Adelaide Confused (35 page)

“
I bet you sleep
naked.”

He nodded.
“Usually.”

Lucas brushed past,
rotating his shoulders to get by. I watched him walk down the
stairs, wondering if he’d changed his mind about sleeping on the
couch. Probably not, I figured he was just giving me a bit of
privacy. So I rushed to undress, shimmying into the borrowed
garments before he came back. My clothes I set neatly on a rocking
chair that faced the window. But then, knowing I would never wear
the filthy things again I shoved them into the wastebasket. That
was when Lucas returned. He watched, but did not
comment.

I turned to face him,
straightening upright. His expression gave nothing away, and he was
emotionless as ever. Impatient to fill the silence, my mouth
leaked, “You didn’t kiss me yesterday.”

I wanted to hear what he
would say, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, Lucas padded across
the loft and pulled me forward by the arms, kissing me without
hesitation.

I kissed back, relieved to
find him interested. But I was unsure of what else to do, wondering
if I ought to touch him back. Tentatively I rested my fingertips
against his chest. He must have taken this for a sign or something
because he pulled me closer, sliding his arms around my waist. But
when they moved lower, skimming the small of my back, I pulled
away.

“Skittish,” he murmured, his voice rough and
low.

“
Does it bother you?” I
asked, unable to look him in the eye.

“No.”

“We’re just going to sleep,” I said, sounding
unsure to my own ears.

“
Get in then, I’ll turn off
the light.”

It was a queen size bed,
big enough for the both of us. Lucas flicked the switch and
followed me in, making no move to touch me. I was both relieved and
disappointed. Snuggling would have been nice, but I didn’t want to
push things.

I was somewhat vulnerable
at the moment, tired and compliant. He might have persuaded me into
anything during my current need for comfort. But he hadn’t. I
didn’t think Lucas was one for seduction, his manner inherently
straightforward. It was impossible to picture him coaxing anything,
let alone a woman.

Holy crap, I couldn’t
believe it. I was in bed with a man. My mind was whirling and I
thought I’d never sleep. My body didn’t agree. I was unconscious in
no time.

Although I knew she was
still feeling wrathy, I had to call Francesca. I thought my news
might relieve some of the tension between us, plus, I just really
wanted to tell her about Lucas. So that was what I did first thing
after getting to work, well, first thing after Ben left.

I didn’t bother calling her
cell phone, knowing she wouldn’t take my call. Instead I tried her
at the Crowne, certain she was working the front desk about now.
Having worked there myself, I knew that she could still see who was
calling. But this way she could answer and save face, pretending I
had tricked her into picking up.

I got her on the second
ring. “Good afternoon, you’ve reached the Crowne. How may I assist
you?”

I hurried to say “I slept
with a man last night” before she could hang up.

There was a pregnant pause.

“
But not in the sex sort of
way,” I amended.

“
What other way is
there?”

She sounded confused,
confused but curious, so I didn’t have to worry about her hanging
up. I got to take my time explaining. “Yesterday I had the worst,
most awful day, and I didn’t want to go home and be by myself, so I
went to Lucas’ and he let me spend the night. In his
bed.”

“
Wait, so why didn’t you
have sex with him?”

“
I didn’t want him to
think, you know, that I’m easy or something.”

“
That’s a woman’s
perspective, men don’t think like that. A woman hears a girl is
easy and calls her a slut, but a guy hears she’s easy and says,
‘Hey, I think I’ll ask her out.’ He’s a guy. He’s hoping you put
out.”

“
Why do I even call you?
You give the worst advice.”

“
Because,” she said
lightly, “I— Shit! Someone’s coming, gotta go, bye.”

There was a click and she
was gone. I wasn’t surprised. Our phone calls often ended abruptly,
guests taking precedence. But our conversation had gone well,
reminding me of our happier times. Things between us weren’t all
better, but they were alright.

I intended to call Nancy
next, but was interrupted by a family of five. The door was thrust
open with such force that it sent the blinds swinging back and
forth with a hiss, setting a tone of discord and chaos, much like
the family itself. They shuffled in, the children leaving pillows
and backpacks to trail behind. The father explained, as he dug
around his wallet for a credit card, that they’d just endured a
nine hour drive. Tired and cranky, they did nothing to lighten my
mood. And when they finally filed out to find their own rooms I
locked the door behind them, unwilling to be interrupted
again.

Settling back behind the
counter I took a moment to clear my head, but a moment wasn’t long
enough, so I gave up and dialed.

“
You’ve reached the Parlor,
where—”

“Nancy,” I cut in.

“
Oh, hello, Adelaide,” she
said, recognizing my voice.

I didn’t bother with
pleasantries. “What do you know about demons?”

She paused. “Well, I grew
up in the Catholic faith, so what I know is in a religious sense.
Would that help?”

“
I don’t know... I was
thinking more along the lines of modern summoning, not the
eternally damned.”

“
You should talk to
Eclipsys then, she follows the occult more closely than I. Hold
on.”

I heard a muffled exchange
in the background before Eclipsys answered. “Ms. Graves,” she said,
a real accent replacing her mystical one.

“
Hello, Eclipsys.” I
replied warily, trying to think of her as anything other than a
fake.

“You’re interested in demons,” she
prompted.

“
Yes, I’m curious about the
summoning process.”

“
I’ve met a few
practitioners, though I’d call them all amateur, none having
actually managed to call up a demon. They do a lot of research,
learning rituals and such. Sometimes they feel confident enough to
create their own.”

“Rituals?”

“
They vary,” she explained.
“Some involve animal sacrifice while others include nothing more
than a harmless pentagram.”

“
Why do they do it?” I
asked, wondering if all summoners were as intellectually motivated
as Anastas.

“
Different reasons. It’s
commonly believed among practitioners that a demon can give you
things, like wealth or fame. The church would say you were selling
your soul to the devil. And they aren’t all wrong,” she added.
“Dealing with demons is dangerous.

“
But there are other
reasons people do it. A less popular belief is that demons can be
bound, and there you’ll find practitioners seeking their own
otherworldly slave. Or maybe some just want the recognition and
knowledge that comes with successfully calling a demon. Who
knows?”

“
Okay, so say someone
actually does manage to summon up a demon. How does that someone
get it to go away?”

“The summoner would simply dismiss it.”

“What if the summoner can’t talk?”

“
That would be a problem.
Traditionally the summoner must speak the demon’s name during both
summoning and dismissal.”

“
Shit,” I said, struggling
to remember, “it might start with an R.”

“
What do you mean?”
Eclipsys asked, sounding suspicious. “I thought these were all
hypothetical questions?”

I heard Nancy squawk in the
background, followed by a scuffle. It was easy to imagine the
heavyset card reader prying the phone from a petit Eclipsys.
“What’s this?” Nancy huffed. “You can’t be mucking around with
demons, it’s dangerous!”

“
I’m not,” I lied. She
started to fuss in protest, but I didn’t let her finish. “I heard a
thing and I was just curious. But I’ll promise never to summon a
demon if it makes you feel better.”

“
Stick to ghosts,” she said
in exasperation, and hung up.

How I wished I
could.

I was going to go home, get
pretty, and see Lucas. I had it all planned out, well, not with
Lucas, but planned nonetheless. And Reed ruined it.

The phone rang just as I
was walking out the office door. Missy answered sounding chipper,
contradictory to the eyeliner, which streamed down her face like
black tears. Her mood abruptly turned sour and I rushed to shut the
door behind me, but she called me back. “Adelaide, it’s for
you.”

I sighed, walking toward
the counter with my hand extended. But she didn’t pass me the
phone. Instead she covered the mouthpiece with her palm and stage
whispered, “You know you shouldn’t take personal calls at work.” It
was sympathetically said, as if she didn’t want to correct me,
though I knew she was enjoying it more than Christmas. “But if this
is the last time then I don’t see any point in telling Ben,” she
generously offered. It was the highlight of her day, lording the
phone call over me.

“Hand me the phone,” I said, staring at her
like she was an idiot.

Missy pursed her lips, but
did as I said, slumping into the chair to eavesdrop.

“Hello?”

“
Good evening, Adelaide.” I
ground my teeth at hearing Reed’s voice. “I’m sorry to have gotten
you in trouble,” he continued, not sounding sorry at all. “Wouldn’t
want to get you fired from your little motel, now would
I?”

“I’m going to hang up.”

“How ungrateful,” he accused lightly.

“Ungrateful?”

“Unforgivably so I’m afraid. You see, I’ve
just done you a favor.”

“
It’s only a favor if I
asked for it, otherwise it’s a presumption.”

“Come meet me,” he said as if I hadn’t
spoken.

“No, I’m going home.”

“
You’ll regret it later,”
he warned.

“
Fine,” I said throwing up
a hand in defeat. “When? Where?”

“Now,” he answered, naming a length of public
beach to rendezvous.

“
Alright,” I agreed. “On
one condition.”

“
That’s a bit backwards. If
you’ll remember, I’m the one who’s doing you a favor.”

“
You’ve got to bring
Agata.”

“
Whatever for?”

“Just do it,” I said, and hung up.

I parked on the street,
noticing what must have been Reed’s slightly stretched limo with
its tinted glass. He was already waiting. Maybe he’d been waiting
here the whole time, confident I would come. The thought made me
want to get in my car and go home, but I didn’t.

I walked down the wooden
planks slowly, scanning the moonlit beach. Lamps were posted, a
dotted line that stretched across the sand. In addition, the hotels
and houses cast their own glow. But the crashing waves seemed to
mute everything, creating a pall of isolation.

There he was, standing in
the moist and hard-packed sand. Waves washed forward, slinking back
only when they reached the tips of his shoes as if they too bowed
down to his charm.

“I’m here,” I announced, though he’d already
turned at the sound of my patting approach. “Where’s Agata?”

“
I left her in the car—I
assume for a reason?”

“
I didn’t specify that you
leave her waiting like a lapdog,” I reproached. “You could have
brought her.”

He turned back to the
water, unspeaking.

“
Well?” I demanded. “What
is it, this favor?”

“
Be patient,” he replied,
the wind catching his words and whipping them back at me. “Don’t
you trust me to act in your best interest?”

Disdainfully I told him
what he already knew. “I trust you to act in
your
best interest.”

“
So young to be a cynic,”
he observed, giving me a brief glance. “And when did this low
opinion of me come about?”

He was leading the
conversation, already knowing my answers. But since I wanted to
list my grievances, I obliged his herding. “When you blackmailed me
into this dangerous game you’re playing with Lars, where I’m the
one at risk while you lie, manipulate, and keep
secrets.”

“
I had no idea you were so
put off by exclusion. But I’ve already made you my girlfriend, how
could I involve you more? Is it a proposal you’re after? Shall I
get down on one knee?”

I refused to be baited.
Calmly, and with complete honesty, I said, “I want you off St.
Simons. But until that’s possible I’d appreciate it if you kept me
in the loop.”

Reed was angled away and I
couldn’t see his face, but I could tell there was something he
wanted to say. It was the same feeling I recognized in Francesca
when she wanted to apologize, but was too proud, and in Stephen
when he felt the need to confide. It was the constraint of silence
at odds with a desire for communication. I waited patiently while
he warred within himself.