“Tell him what? Don’t worry, I was held captive by a werewolf but I’m okay now…except for the deranged Cabal sorcerer on my tail?”
I glared up at him. “I’m serious. He’ll be worried—”
“Let him worry. From what I saw, it’s only…what, a first, maybe second date, and you didn’t seem very enamored—”
“He’s a nice guy. Kind of. He’s not evil.”
Marsten’s brow shot up. “That’s your dating criterion?”
“You know what I mean. He was worried, and I can’t just walk out on him. Plus, if my mother finds out I abandoned the guy she set me up with—”
“Your mother sets you up blind dates? With guys like that?” The corners of his mouth twitched. “She doesn’t like you very much, does she?”
“My mother—” I bit back at the rest, and started again. “My mother is just fine, which is why I won’t embarrass her like this. I do that enough as it is.”
His face softened. “All right. But, while I do understand, you’re forgetting—”
“The whole ‘fleeing for our lives’ part?” I took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’ll have to—I’ll work something out later. Apologize to my mother. Make it up to Douglas…”
“I don’t think you owe Douglas anything.” He paused. “If we need to go past the party, you can tell him. Make an excuse to leave, and call it even.”
I nodded and we finished getting ready.
I was picking cobwebs out of Marsten’s hair when I remembered something else.
“The gun,” I said. “I should’ve grabbed the gun.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. In my experience, guns are only good for threatening. In combat? I’m as likely to shoot my own foot. Best to avoid them altogether.”
“Easy to say when you have super strength, super senses, fangs, claws…”
He glanced up at me as I plucked out another cobweb. “You are a…What’s the word they use? A supernatural, aren’t you?”
“Sure, but not all of us come with built-in defense mechanisms. Why do you think I carry a gun?”
“So what is your—?”
“Speaking of my gun, it’s also still back there, in my purse…with my bracelet. Damn it.”
“The bracelet—an heirloom, I presume.”
“So you didn’t mistake it for a ‘cheap bauble’ after all. And you still didn’t try to nick it. I’m shocked.”
He glowered as he got to his feet.
“What?” I said. “I’ve offended you? I should be ashamed of myself. Those pieces in your pocket just fell in there, didn’t they? Damn museum displays. Stuff just drops off them—”
“Point taken,” he said as he stood and smoothed his hair. “But, no, your bracelet isn’t at risk. Valuable or not, it’s worth more to you than to me. These—” He reached into his jacket and transferred the jewels to his pants pocket. “Worth something only to an insurance company. Which I realize is no excuse but—” He shrugged. “As for your bracelet, considering it’s with your gun, and you’d probably feel safer carrying that, I suggest we make that office our first stop, presuming Tristan has moved on.”
I shook my head. “Yes, I want it back, but I have to trust my purse will still be there when all this is done.”
“I’ll make sure I get it for you later.”
Later? I hoped that didn’t mean he planned to come back and steal something else. No, he’d been leaving when I’d first stopped him.
He took my elbow and propelled me toward the door. “Let’s go before they find us.”
It took a few minutes to get my bearings. The laboratories weren’t part of your typical museum visit and thus were woefully lacking in directional signs. I knew we were on the first floor, which helped…except that most of the sprawling first floor was offices and labs, which didn’t help. Nor did the lack of windows. I’d never noticed it before, but, the building was window-free. Great for security and artifact preservation; not so great for those needing to end their visit in a hurry.
“There,” I whispered to Marsten. “That’s the media room. I was there last month for a story.”
“You’re a journalist?”
I nodded, not mentioning I’d been covering the story of an “ancient curse” that a former worker swore was responsible for his herpes outbreak. That thought pinged another. Did all this mean I’d never cover another silly curse story?