I sprang to my feet. “You need to undo it.”
“You sure about that?” Hawk asked. “Do you want to risk them being able to take you? If that’s what you want, say the word.”
I was stuck, hanging out in owned limbo. But what bothered me more than anything was that I didn’t think he’d really do it anyway, even if I truly did want him to.
I moved closer until my toes were nearly brushing his. “You know what? I’ll take my chances. Undo it.”
This might’ve been the stupidest thing I’d ever asked for. What if he did undo it?
He stood. “You’d cut off your nose to spite your face?”
“No, she wouldn’t. She doesn’t want you to really do it. Right, Tippi?” Oscar got to his feet as well, trying to angle into the small space between us. “Tell him you don’t want that, Tippi, because it would be incredibly stupid.” Oscar was looking at me like I’d lost my mind and he was sure hoping I’d find it fast.
He was right. I might’ve lost my mind. No, I’d definitely lost it, and I wasn’t finding it anytime soon. I was going down with this ship.
“Oscar, I know what I’m doing. Step out of the way.”
Oscar closed his eyes for a second, groaned softly, and then stepped back.
No buffer left. It was just me and Hawk now. “Undo it.”
His eyes didn’t flinch from my gaze. “Do you realize what you’re asking for?”
“Yes. I’m saying the words. And I’m asking you to undo it.” Probably too clearly. That didn’t bode well for my sanity, but no one was controlling my life. Not anymore.
He looked down at me. “No.”
“You won’t undo it?”
“No, I won’t. Even if you care so little about your wellbeing that you’d risk everything, as demonstrated by the actions you’ve taken in the last few days, I’m not going to compound your mistakes.” The lines of his face were hard, but there was something calling to me in his eyes, a warmth that might undo me if I let it.
I wouldn’t. I wasn’t falling for the little glimmers and hints of what Hawk could be when the man before me was being an ass, again.
“That’s the thing. They’re my mistakes to make.”
Oscar had dropped onto the couch, groaning after my last comment.
“And if you die?” Hawk said. “Where does that leave everyone else? Or do you not care what that would mean to other people?” The rage was building in him, wiping out all traces of softness.
“And you do? This is about everyone else now? I think this is about you and keeping your situation afloat.” That was all he ever cared about. Him, his place, what he needed. “This is getting undone whether you want it to or not.”
He crossed his arms, making a point of looking down at me. “We’ve faced off before. Doesn’t tend to work out well for you.”
“Really? If I remember correctly, you didn’t want me in Xest, and I’m here.” I pointed to the floor I was standing on.
“Because I helped you by doing the exact thing you’re telling me to undo now. Thankfully, I’m not following your game plan.”
I took a few steps away from him, afraid I’d start swinging if I didn’t. “I knew I was better off hating you.”
“Another reason why you don’t really want me to undo it. You have another reason to add to your list of why you’re angry at me. This is good news for you.”
“Don’t try to turn this. Everything has to be your way.”
“When the other options are pure stupidity? Yes. I guess they do.”
I gave him my back, leaving the room before I tried to kill him.
“Well, I guess the meeting is over. At least that takes care of that. No one will be taking her anywhere, it seems,” Oscar said as I left.
10
I was sipping tea, organizing some requests, and tossing ones that were already too old to fulfill, giving myself busywork and pretending Hawk wasn’t on the other side of the room, doing his own busywork. We hadn’t said one word in greeting, not that he was chatty anyway. But typically, there’d be a nod, a glance, some acknowledgment of another life form. Today? Nothing, and it was mutual.
I was doing my damnedest to pretend he wasn’t in the office, and that I didn’t hear everything he said, and that I didn’t know when he told Musso he was leaving, or that he nodded toward Bibbi and Zab as he left.
I was glad he’d left. It was much easier to concentrate on my busywork without him constantly moving about the place.
Hawk had been gone for twenty minutes when the door opened. A man in a white polo shirt and equally bright pants, a crisp pleat down the center of each leg, walked into the office. Nothing about him looked local. He might’ve been strolling in from a barbecue, instead of a snowfield that would give Antarctica a good run for its money.
Musso and Zab didn’t appear to recognize him either.
He took off his sunglasses, tucking them into his shirt pocket. His hat came off next as he looked around the place.
“Can I help you?” Musso asked, standing.
The man in white looked at Musso, as if he were startled he’d been addressed, even though he’d walked into our office.
“Yes, sir, you may. I was wondering if a friend of mine might’ve stopped by?” He raised his hand about level with his own height. “About this tall, dark hair, loves to wear all black. Horns just so.” He held his index fingers up near his head.
Friend? I doubted that. Oh yes, the man he was looking for had been here.
I leaned back in my chair so hard that I almost rocked myself right onto the floor. This had to be some sort of sick joke. We barely got one strange man out the door and now we had another?
Bibbi was at her table, leaning forward, her lips parted. Her eyes continued to take in this new guest from head to toe. Zab and Musso were speechless.
Musso cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything. I got it. You didn’t shoot the shit with angels every day. Or demons, for that matter. Must have been my lucky week.
“What was this friend’s name?” I asked, stalling as we tried to figure out what to do.
“Xazier.” He turned his full attention on me. “My name is Lou. Have you seen him?”
“I think someone fitting that description passed through here, but I haven’t seen him in a bit.”
Lou walked closer to my desk. “And you are?” His stare’s intensity reminded me of how his “friend” had also looked at me.
There was a two-second glitch where old habits warred in my head, screaming that I should retreat. Then my new self’s chest puffed out a bit, and I smiled like a person who had nothing in the world to fear.
I stood with more confidence than I’d thought I could muster and said, “I’m Tippi,” in a way that dared him to do his worst, because he better not screw with me.
His perusal only intensified, as if I’d flipped the lights on and he could see all the better.
His eyes flickered over me again, taking in every detail but not hovering anywhere untoward, giving me the impression that his interest was anything but sexual. What he saw, I couldn’t imagine, but it didn’t seem to be my fashion he was admiring.