"I don't remember glimpsing a palace when I went through Bennington." Then again, I'd been focused on showing Jasmine's picture to hotel and motel employees, not on paying attention to what I thought were hallucinations.
Adrian grunted. "It's there."
Every realm I'd entered had had a grand structure, and Adrian hadn't been wrong about his realm blueprints yet, but something about his tone made his surety sound more...personal.
"You lived there before, didn't you?" I guessed.
His eyes briefly met mine before he returned his militant attention to the road. "For a long time, I ruled it."
Anger shot through me. Of course, he'd failed to mention that before.
"You're only a few years older than me, so it couldn't have been that long, Adrian. Unless you were a toddler king."
"If I'm guessing right about where this conversation's going, it's time she knew anyway," Costa muttered, giving Adrian a sympathetic look.
"Knew what?" I asked curtly.
Adrian's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I told you time moves differently in the realms. Once I was old enough to fight, Demetrius made sure I lived in realms where time almost froze to a stop so he'd have plenty of it to perfect my training. I might only look a few years older than you, Ivy, but I was born in 1873."
My mind froze while doing the math. Adrian couldn't-just could not!-be over a hundred and forty.
"No," I croaked.
Costa reached around to pat my head. "I know it's hard to take in. When Adrian got me out and I realized fifty years had passed over here, I had trouble adjusting-"
"How old are you?" I burst out before remembering he couldn't understand me.
"Costa's seventy-three, or seventy-four, I guess." Adrian gave his friend a humorless smile. "Forgot your birthday."
Denial still had me in a fierce grip. "But Tomas's family is still alive! We sent Hoyt to them so he could recover!"
"Those were his grandkids, Ivy," Adrian said, sparing another glance my way. "Didn't you notice the old clothing his parents wore in the photographs in Tomas's room?"
I had, but I'd thought his family had just liked to wear more, um, quaint apparel.
"You're really a hundred and forty?" Call me slow, but I needed to hear him confirm it one more time.
"Yes."
I angled my head so I could see him more fully, as if he'd look different now that I knew his true age. He didn't, of course. Same piercing sapphire eyes, curving brows, high cheekbones, sensually full mouth and strong jaw, all making up a face that left gorgeous behind in the dust. Considering that face was on top of a body so built that it could make a superhero jealous, Adrian's looks were unforgettable.
So was this revelation. He hadn't just spent his childhood and teen years living with demons. He'd spent nearly a century and a half with them. No wonder Demetrius had referred to Adrian's working for Zach as a "little rebellion." It barely registered next to the staggering length of time he'd lived in the realms as the demons' prophesied savior.
I understood then, more than I ever had before, the absolute assurance that Demetrius, Zach and even Adrian had that he couldn't avoid his destiny. How could a few weeks of being attracted to me compare with thirteen decades of being groomed to betray the last Davidian? It's not like Adrian was trying to kick a recent bad habit-he'd literally spent a couple of lifetimes training so he could bring about my doom!
And I'd pretty much done everything I could to help him, I realized with a scald of self-recrimination. Even now, I was insisting that Adrian take me to a realm where his demonic foster father and a few hundred of his closest evil friends waited. A realm Adrian had admitted he'd once ruled over, and where he could now return as the conquering betrayer.
All I needed to do was slap a bow on my ass to make myself the perfect, too-stupid-to-live sacrifice.
"Having second thoughts, Ivy?"
Adrian's voice broke through my crushing musings. His accent was as darkly alluring as ever, but it was a demon accent. When I met his gaze, those gemstone-colored eyes held their usual mixture of brooding danger, but who was his veiled violence aimed at? The girl he was destined to destroy, or the demons he'd told me he intended to take down?
After all, they wanted the weapon, too. I'd bet Demetrius and the rest of them would consider the minions Adrian had killed as acceptable losses if he delivered the slingshot-and me-to them in the end. What if all the times Adrian had saved me were just so I'd willingly lead him to the powerful weapon that his demonic brethren needed? What if all his claims to care about me were only so I'd run headlong into my own betrayal? In short-what if the only time Adrian had been telling me the truth was when he told me not to trust him?