Even as his demon lashed out at him for it, Keenan spun on his heel and walked into the hallway. He’d just pulled open the front door when she spoke from behind him.
“Is it right?” she asked. “Will you lose the fight?”
Shit. He glanced at her over his shoulder. And he found that he couldn’t lie to her. “Sometimes I think I already have.” Then he walked out.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Khloé had just placed the studio’s phone in its receiver when the front door opened, letting in a stream of outdoor noise. She brightened when she spotted the familiar, too-hot-for-his-own-good figure who breezed inside. “Teague!” she exclaimed with a little squeal.
He grinned. “Hey, gorgeous.” He crossed to the desk just as she rounded it and then he pulled her into a tight hug. “I leave for a few weeks, and everything goes to shit.”
Khloé looked up at him. “Not everything. I won fifty dollars on a scratchcard yesterday.”
“A scratchcard you bought or stole?”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
He snickered. “Your lunch hour starts in ten minutes, right?”
“Yep.”
“Good, I’m taking you to lunch. You only gave me the bare bones of what’s been happening with Enoch. I’m pretty sure there’s a lot you haven’t told me.”
“Are we all invited?” asked Devon.
“No,” he replied.
Raini sighed. “You don’t think it’s childish that you don’t like to share her attention?”
“Can’t say I give a shit either way,” he said.
Devon snorted. “To be honest, Adam’s the same,” she said, referring to her own anchor.
“Yeah,” began Harper, “so is Knox. I guess it’s a guy thing.”
“No, it’s an alpha male thing,” stated Raini. “They’re all awkward motherfuckers a lot of the time.”
Devon gave a slow nod. “That can’t be denied.”
Once her lunch break started, Khloé and Teague headed to the English-themed pub that wasn’t far from the Xpress bar. They’d been there together many times before. It was louder than usual due to the group of sports fanatics that were shouting at the TV as if the football players could actually hear them.
Patrons could either settle at the long wooden bar, one of the sturdy tables, or at one of the booths. Waitresses walked around taking orders, cleaning tables, or serving drinks and food. The smells of yeasty beer, grilled meat, and onions made Khloé’s stomach rumble.
She and Teague settled in a booth and each ordered a drink plus a burger with fries. Only when the waitress walked off, leaving them alone, did Khloé relay all the finer details of the Enoch situation to Teague—pausing only when someone brought over their drinks.
Done, she leaned back in the cushioned booth and picked up her soda. “And that’s it.”
Opposite her, Teague shook his head. “Damn, gorgeous, you really are a magnet for trouble.”
“I knew I’d somehow get the blame for this shit,” she mumbled into her glass before taking a long swig of her drink.
“What can I do to help find Enoch?”
“Unless you secretly have the gift to psychically locate someone, nothing,” she replied. “We used to have someone with that ability in our lair, but they were lured to another.”
“People with rare gifts usually are lured to larger more powerful lairs,” he pointed out. “Raini has a rare one, doesn’t she?” It was a stab in the dark.
“Does she?” Khloé asked airily.
“I believe so, yeah.” He drank some beer from his pint glass. “I can sense she’s powerful, but she keeps a low-profile and never lets off steam in the combat circle. Like she’s hiding what she can do.”
“Or she’s a pacifist,” Khloé suggested.
“Or she doesn’t want to draw attention to herself.” He lifted a hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not expecting you to tell me anything. I know you’d never betray her trust—she’s important to you.”
Pausing, he took another swig of beer and then leaned back. “Enoch won’t be easy to locate. I’ll talk to Jolene and ask her if she has any leads. She won’t tell me to butt out; not when it’s you.” He drummed his fingers on the scarred table. “Want me to stay with you at your house until all this has blown over?”
“I’ll be fine on my own.” She set her glass on the coaster that displayed the pub’s logo. “Ciaran can be by my side at the drop of a hat.”
“It would still be good if you had someone close to you. I’m surprised Keenan’s not insisting on playing bodyguard, claiming you need his backup—he usually shoves his way into your business. Of course, he’s more interested in getting you on your back. Preferably on a bed, but I doubt he’d be too fussy on the ‘where’ so long as he got what he wanted. And you know what would happen afterward? Nothing. He’d carry on as if it never happened.”
Her chest tightened, because that was exactly how it had all gone down.
His departing comment from last night after she’d asked if he’d lose “the fight” drifted through her mind …