Darkangel, Christine Pope [ebook reader screen .txt] 📗

Adam, of course, hadn’t taken it very well. “Like it’s going to make a difference at this point!” he fumed.

I didn’t bother to point out that he had a vested interest in my not seeing any candidates during this final week before my birthday. “She thinks it might,” I said gently. “I don’t think it will, either, but since she and I are still walking on eggshells around each other, I figure it might make things a little better.” Adam and I were sitting in the nook off the kitchen and drinking coffee; it was a cold, blustery morning, and although the skies threatened, no rain had fallen yet.

“I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I, but it’s just one more thing to get through. Okay?” I’d reached out and laid my hand on his where it rested on the tabletop, and after a second or two he’d knotted his fingers around mine and given them a squeeze. So, not perfect, but at least he wasn’t angry at me. I thought it best not to dwell on his attitude toward Rachel at the moment.

He’d gone back to his apartment, since I thought having him around would only make matters worse. There wasn’t much I could do about the bodyguards, but they’d wisely remained in the sitting room, TV tuned to yet another interminable football game. Allegra was one of the bodyguards today, and she’d seemed less than thrilled about that choice of viewing material, but Boyd and Henry had outvoted her.

The doorbell rang. I drew in a deep breath and went to open the door.

Alex Trujillo stared down at me. I blinked.

No, wait, it wasn’t Alex, but someone who looked so much like him that they had to be closely related. After a quick second glance, I realized this man was older, maybe even as old as thirty. “Another Trujillo?”

“You got me.” He extended a hand, and I took it, hoping I didn’t look as surprised as I felt. Very rarely did two candidates come from the same immediate family. “Diego Trujillo.”

“I’m Angela McAllister.”

“Yeah, I kind of got that,” he said with a grin.

“Come in,” I said quickly, to cover my confusion and embarrassment. “This way.” I shut the door behind him and then led him to the living room. This time I already had a fire going in the hearth, since it was hovering in the mid-40s outside. “Coffee?”

He shook his head. “Just some water would be fine.”

I nodded and hurried off to the kitchen, where I poured a couple of glasses of water and added a slice of lemon to each. The lemon slices had been left behind in the refrigerator by Kirby at some point; he liked to add them to his Coke, apparently. As I put together the drinks, I tried to figure out what Diego Trujillo’s presence meant. He was older than any of the other candidates; everyone else had been under twenty-five. But Aunt Rachel knew I’d found Alex attractive, so maybe she thought she’d try again from the same gene pool. I doubted it would make any difference, although I had to applaud her ingenuity in coming up with this possibility.

Diego was still standing up when I came back to the living room, although he’d moved to one wall where a painting of billowing monsoon clouds over a desert mountain hung. I’d admired the artist’s work when I saw some of his smaller pieces hanging in one of the local wine tasting rooms, and it had been kind of wonderful to be able to purchase the sort of large painting I’d never thought I could afford.

“This is amazing,” Diego said as I handed him a glass of water.

“I really love it, too.” Then I realized maybe saying “love” hadn’t been the wisest thing in this particular situation, so I drank some of my own water to cover up my awkwardness.

If he noticed, Diego didn’t give any indication. He drank as well, seeming to study me. Although I didn’t have any hope of this encounter turning out any differently from the others, I’d made a little more of an effort today, wearing some new jeans and a dark green cardigan with a lace-trimmed camisole under it, along with my ballet flats instead of boots.

Since he didn’t seem inclined to say anything, I asked, “So how did my aunt manage to rope you into this?”

Another of those eye-catching grins. Like his brother, he had a very good smile. “Oh, she didn’t. I volunteered, and my abuela called your aunt.”

“You…volunteered?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Well…I guess I am. I mean, after Alex didn’t work out….”

“We’re not the same person. Just because he wasn’t your consort doesn’t mean I can’t be. And he had very good things to say about you, so I thought I should give it a try.”

Well, how was I supposed to reply to that? I gave an embarrassed little nod, not meeting his eyes, and he went to the coffee table and set down his glass…properly using a coaster, I noted.

“Does it bother you that I’m a little older?”

“No,” I said, finding my voice. “Not really.” You’re still younger than Damon Wilcox, I thought then, although I knew better than to say such a thing out loud.

“Good.” He came over to me and laced his fingers through mine. His hands were strong, as his brother’s had been. “Let’s try this, then, okay?”

I couldn’t do anything except nod.

His mouth came closer to me, then touched, and….

I didn’t know what I wanted to happen. Part of me felt as if I were betraying Adam, and the other part argued that I needed to be doing this, that I needed to try. Too much pushing and pulling inside my mind.

It turned out that none of it mattered, because again I felt nothing. Oh, his technique was very good — I could tell he’d had a lot of practice — but there were no more sparks or fireworks than when I kissed Adam.

Diego pulled away. His expression seemed neutral enough, although by the way his jaw tensed slightly I could tell he wasn’t thrilled by my lack of reaction. Probably he wasn’t used to having girls just stand there like department store mannequins when he kissed them.

“Oh, well, it was worth a try,” he said.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I knew the chances weren’t good.”

I nodded, feeling an odd sense of relief. At least now I knew what would happen. There wouldn’t be any more attempts. Maybe I wasn’t meant to have a consort in the true sense of the word.

He went and retrieved his glass of water, then drank about half of what remained. “I’ll be on my way.”

No protests came from my lips. What would be the point? He wasn’t the one, either.

I saw him to the door, then went up to my room and retrieved my phone from where it sat charging on the nightstand. After I went to the Contacts screen, I sat there for a long moment, staring down at Adam’s number. Although I knew my Aunt Rachel had said there would be no more candidates after Diego, some part of my mind didn’t quite believe it. There were still three days left. But no, she’d said there was no one else. No one unattached and in the right age group, of the right family. I’d run through them all.

After taking a deep breath, I pushed the phone icon next to Adam’s entry. It rang twice, and he picked up. Without waiting for him to speak, I said, “We’re on for Friday.” Then I hung up before he could reply. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I just wanted to get the whole thing over with.

We’d tried to act normal, but of course there wasn’t anything normal about the situation. Everyone in the clan knew what was going on, too, which didn’t make things any easier. Usually I would have been leading the clan’s solstice celebrations this night, but there was an unspoken agreement that my being with Adam for the evening took precedence.

After some ruminating on the upcoming evening, I’d decided we should go out — dinner at Grapes, and wine, then off to the Spirit Room to hear that night’s band play, and more wine. I figured if I were seriously tipsy, if not outright drunk, then the whole thing might be easier to handle.

Adam hadn’t bothered to argue with me about all that. I guessed he was probably just relieved that no more obstacles had presented themselves. If I wanted to delay things as long as possible on the night itself, he could handle that. Technically, I wouldn’t be twenty-two until almost midnight the following day — my time of birth was eleven-thirty. The solstice itself wouldn’t happen until almost three in the morning. So partying late tonight shouldn’t create any problems.

Once again Sydney had suggested that she and Anthony should come to meet us and hang out for the evening, but I thought that would just be too weird. “I appreciate it, but…no,” I told her.

“Suit yourself,” she replied. “And I won’t even ask for the gory details tomorrow.” She’d let out a mock-sigh and added, “My little girl is finally going to be a woman!”

“You are so weird,” I replied, even though I couldn’t help smiling a little. Then I’d hung up.

Dinner was all right. We talked about commonplace things, about how he was helping with the conversion of a triplex into a single-family home, and how I couldn’t decide whether to go with black appliances or stainless steel ones for the upcoming kitchen remodel. Just your ordinary date-night conversation, I supposed.

Lara’s band was playing at the Spirit Room, which meant the place was packed. We ended