Page 75 of Speak of the Devil
The plan was simple enough. Since Robert Hendricks was already expecting her, no one would think anything strange about her going up to his office on the tenth floor of the hotel. And because Caleb could travel anywhere in the blink of an eye, they decided he would be gambling a few blocks away at the Palace Station, a casino he rarely visited and one that never seemed to have any kind of demonic activity. At the same time, he’d have his Airpods in and would be listening to her conversation with Hendricks, ready to jump in the second something went wrong.
On the surface, that all seemed fine. At the same time, Delia couldn’t help being uneasy at the idea of having Caleb in a different hotel entirely. Sure, he could travel in an instant…or at least, he said he could…but she still didn’t like knowing her only backup wasn’t there in the building with her.
But because they couldn’t risk having any demons in the vicinity pick up on his presence, they didn’t have a whole lot of options.
Going to her house also allowed her to change out of her jeans and sweater and into a skirt and blouse and jacket and heels. Robert Hendricks had always seen her in work clothes during the times they’d met, so she didn’t see the point in arousing any suspicions by appearing casually attired at his office.
When she emerged from her bedroom, she thought she noticed a flicker of admiration in Caleb’s dark eyes, although he sounded businesslike enough when he spoke.
“I don’t think we should drive over there,” he said. “Casinos have security cameras everywhere, and I don’t want them toget any footage of us arriving in the same car. It’s better if we teleport and appear in a spot without any surveillance.”
She crossed her arms. Just in case things got messy, she’d worn one of her less favorite shirts, the stiff black one that always made her feel like an FBI agent or something. “You just said they have security cameras everywhere.”
“All right, almost everywhere,” he amended, then got up from the couch where he’d been waiting for her. “But there’s a service hallway just off the kitchen that doesn’t have any. It’ll be the best place for us to appear.”
A frown creased her brows, telling Caleb she wasn’t too thrilled by that suggestion. “And have someone carrying a tray of wings and jalapeno poppers out to the casino floor stumble over us?”
“It’s better than arriving in one of the restrooms and having the security cameras see us the second we walk out the door…and risking someone really looking at the footage and picking up on any discrepancies. The last thing we want is for someone to notice that we never went in.”
Maybe he had a point there. And while Delia could see why he didn’t want the cameras in the parking structure to get any images of them arriving in the same car, she knew he was relying on luck to make sure no one walked out of the casino kitchen at exactly the wrong time.
Then again, he must have a whole hell of a lot of luck in his back pocket. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to free himself from Hell in the first place.
However he’d managed it. He hadn’t provided much detail on that point, and she hadn’t pressed the issue, not when it was still somewhat unbelievable to her that he’d been trapped there at all.
Well, she’d worry about that later. She had much bigger claims on her brain space at the moment.
“All right,” she said, and looked over at the clock that hung on the wall opposite the fireplace. “Five minutes until six. We should probably get going.”
He nodded, then came over to where she stood a few feet away from the sofa. “You’ll need to hold on tight,” he said as he extended his hands.
This was the part she really wasn’t looking forward to. Not touching him,per se— his fingers were warm and friendly as they closed on hers — but just the idea of somehow folding space to get them from here to there.
No other words. Just an odd little blink of darkness, and then they were standing in a corridor that looked very plain and industrial compared to the flashy, neon-lit casino floor just a few yards down the hall.
It was deserted, just as Caleb had predicted, and Delia began to let out a sigh of relief —
— only to have him press her against the wall in a faux embrace when a server wearing one of the Dunes’ brightly colored uniforms emerged from the kitchen, a tray of appetizers in one hand.
“Just play along,” he murmured in her ear.
As much as she wanted to push him away, she knew doing so would only alert the waitress that they were loitering in the hallway for some other purpose than grabbing a kiss in a location that had few observers.
So she allowed him to continue pressing his body to hers, although she noticed he didn’t try to steal a kiss. This close, it was impossible to ignore the strong muscles in his chest, or the faint warm scent that must have been his alone, since he’d showered at her house that morning, and she knew she sure as hell didn’t have any cologne or aftershave in her guest bathroom.
“All clear,” he said a moment later, stepping away so she could regain her balance.
She ran her hands down her skirt and straightened her jacket, telling herself that the slight shakiness she detected in her fingers had everything to do with their close call and nothing at all to do with the way they’d practically been kissing just a moment earlier.
Before Delia could comment — not that she even knew exactly what she planned to say — he pulled his phone and a single Airpod out of his pocket. “You ready?” he asked as he inserted the earbud in his left ear.
A few moments earlier, she would have said yes. Now she knew she felt way too off-balance and wanted to scold herself for being so susceptible to his physical proximity.
Never in a million years would she confess such weakness to him, though. Instead, she gave him what she hoped was a brisk nod. “I’m ready.”
“I’m going to call you now,” he told her, then touched his phone’s screen.
A second later, her phone started ringing from inside her purse. “Okay, we’re good,” she told him as she accepted the call, and he nodded.
