"Um," I said, trying not to wonder about who he might have fed on that night. "Is that why you write, too?"
He nodded.
"I assumed you were using the books to find your Beloved."
He laughed again. "The books brought you here to me, did they not?"
"Yes, but I'm not your Beloved."
His smile lost a bit of its wattage. "I write because it gives me pleasure to tell the tale of my people, and because I can imagine a life that has thus far eluded me."
Talk about laying a guilt trip! Uncomfortable, I changed the subject. "About you helping me—"
"I am at your service, naturally. I can do no less for you."
I stopped and turned to face him, oblivious to the fact that we were blocking traffic. "I might as well tell you right now that I'm only doing this to help Raphael. I want you to understand my ulterior motive. I don't want you to feel like you were being used," I said with particular emphasis on the last two words. "Or exploited. Or manipulated. Or—"
He held up his hand. "I take your point. What is it exactly you wish me to do to help St. John?"
I took a deep breath and counted to five. "I want you to get proof that Milos murdered Tanya."
His eyes drifted lazily over my face. "I find myself surprised that St. John is allowing you to assist him in tracking down the murderer. Despite the obvious differences between us, I find myself in lamentable accord with him in regard to issues of your safety. I am having difficulty believing he has solicited your help in finding proof of the murderer's identity."
"That's because I haven't."
I didn't turn around. I knew full well what the expression on Raphael's face was going to be. I did, however, look at his shadow, as I nervously shifted from foot to foot.
"Traitor," I told Henri.
"He's not the one who has gone against orders."
I turned around at that, my hands on my hips, my lips thinned with annoyance. "Who died and made you God?" I de-hipped one hand long enough to poke him in the chest. "I do not take orders from you. You do not have the right to give me orders. You do not have the right to dictate my actions. Got that?"
Raphael sighed and grabbed my still poking finger. "You're going to make me do this the hard way, aren't you? You're going to be stubborn and foolhardy, and make me take extreme measures to keep you safe, isn't that so?"
My blood was up now. I don't mind feeling cherished and wanted and protected, but Raphael—and Christian—were going overboard.
"What we have here is a rampant case of alpha male-itis," I announced, glaring at Raphael. He raised one sleek brow in a "Who? Me?" question. "Well, guess what? I've suddenly become an alpha female, and that means I don't have to take any crap from either of you. So you can just stand here and beat your chests at each other all night, because I'm going to go read some damn runes and then find Milos and get the truth out of him one way or another. Gentlemen, Elvis has left the building."
I tried to stalk off on that beautiful exit line, but Raphael ruined it all, blast him. He grabbed the scarf tied around my waist, twisting his hand into it so I couldn't escape. I slapped at his arm a few times, but when that did nothing, I started to pick at the knot holding the scarf closed.
"I assume that, personal history aside, I can count on your assistance in this matter?" Raphael asked Christian. I snarled at both him and the knot and bent over to try to pry the material apart with my teeth.
"Joy's safety is tantamount in my mind," Christian answered. "Given the circumstances, you have my full cooperation. There are one or two members of my staff I can put at your disposal if they are needed, and I myself will be available as soon as my duties as host are completed."
"I'm never, ever wearing this damned scarf again!"
"Thank you. I will appreciate your help," Raphael said with a polite little bow to Christian.
Roxy raced up, breathless and pink-cheeked. "There you are! Renee has been waiting for you! She has to use the little girl's room. Come on, come on, you can eat your scarf later." She grabbed my wrist and started tugging me in the direction of the tables.
"I am happy to be of service," Christian said, making Raphael an equally polite bow.
"I don't like either of you anymore," I told them.
Raphael just smiled and released his death grip on my scarf, taking me by one arm as Christian took the other. With Roxy clearing a path ahead of us like some deranged flower girl, I was frog-marched back to the rune table.
Renee happily hoisted herself to her feet when she saw me approaching, waving an expressive hand as she waddled off for the nearest portable toilet Raphael put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me into the chair. I bit his thumb.