Speak Thy Name (The Nephilim Book 3)

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Speak Thy Name (The Nephilim Book 3) Page 7

by Dana Marie Bell


  He eyed her sideways. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a pit bull before.”

  She smiled sweetly. She was too tired to get into the whole pit bulls are mean debate. She’d let her dog’s behavior speak for itself. “Now you have.”

  They drove in silence after that, Sam watching out the window to see where he might be taking her. Whatever was going through Damien’s head was kept off his face. He seemed utterly unaffected by her presence in his car, whereas her palms were sweaty, her foot couldn’t seem to hold still, and she was seeing spots in front of her eyes because she kept forgetting to breathe.

  He looked good, despite the dark circles under his eyes. She wanted to take him home and have him curl up in her bed, under her blankets, her dogs warming him while he slept. She just wanted to take care of him, to find out what had put that tiny frown between his eyes as he drove.

  “Here we are.” He pulled up in front of the Golden Lotus, Sam’s favorite Chinese restaurant. His lips curled in a wry smile. “A little birdie told me you like it here.”

  She was willing to bet that little birdie was named Beth. “I do, thanks. It was thoughtful of you to find a place I like, even through a little birdie.” Smiling, she got out of the car on her own. She couldn’t wait to eat. Suddenly, she was starving, and the fact that she had barely eaten at all was large in her mind. Not even Damien’s hand on her elbow registered as brightly as her growling stomach.

  “Damien?” An unfamiliar female voice caused Damien to freeze in his tracks. His hand tightened on her elbow, holding her in place. Whoever this was made Damien look extremely uncomfortable. “On a business lunch?”

  She had bright red hair, dark brown eyes, and looked to be wearing a business suit under her winter trench coat. Her sensible brown purse matched her boots. The only color other than her hair was the sapphire-colored scarf at her throat.

  “Marcy,” Damien answered reluctantly. “Meet Samantha Brody. Sam, this is Marcy Ford.”

  “Hello.” Sam held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You, too.” Marcy shook her hand with a professional smile. “Which company do you work for?”

  Sam frowned. “Romanov Industries.” She didn’t ask who Marcy worked for, but she had the urge to clarify things. “But this isn’t a business lunch.”

  Marcy’s professional smile waned. She glanced at Damien, a small wrinkle appearing between her brows. “Damien?”

  “Sam and I are…” He blinked and stared at Sam, as if he couldn’t quite remember why he was there with her. “Sam and I are dating.” He stepped slightly in front of her as if to protect her from Marcy’s wrath.

  “Oh?” Marcy’s brows rose, and Sam detected a decent amount of jealousy. Was Marcy Ford one of Damien’s girlfriends? It didn’t make sense, but for all Sam knew he was seeing multiple women. Sam nearly whimpered at the spike of pain that thought drove through her. “I wasn’t aware you were seeing anyone.”

  Damien scowled. “I told you before, we’re friends, Marcy. It’s been over between you and I for a long time now.”

  Well. That was a relief. Sam relaxed and studied Marcy. The woman was beautiful, Sam would give her that, but her timing totally sucked.

  “What kind of friends, Damien?” Marcy began tapping her foot on the salted sidewalk.

  “Not now, Marcy. Please. This isn’t the time or place for this.” Damien took hold of Sam’s hand. “I’m here to have lunch my girlfriend, not get into our old relationship, okay? If you can’t respect the fact that it’s been over for two years, then there’s no chance of friendship between us at all.”

  Damn. Was Marcy stalking Damien?

  Marcy flinched. “I’m sorry, I—” She glanced at Sam, her expression haunting. “I still love you, Damien.”

  Damien turned and gently pushed Sam toward the door of the restaurant. “Why don’t you go get us a table?” His tone with her was markedly different from the way he spoke to Marcy. Damien was gentle with her, whereas his tone had been cold and harsh with Marcy.

  “Are you sure?” She glanced over her shoulder toward Marcy, who looked devastated. “We can do this some other time.”

  Marcy closed her eyes. “Go get your table, Sam.” She opened her eyes, and the look in them tore Sam apart. “I want…” She glanced at Damien.

  “Go on, Sam.” Damien didn’t take his gaze off of Sam. He smiled gently. “I’ll deal with this and join you in a minute.”

  Sam entered the restaurant, ignoring the barely hidden sympathy on the face of the hostess. “One, ma’am?”

  Sam shook her head. “Two.” She kept her expression sunny with some difficulty.

  If Damien ever spoke to her the way he spoke to Marcy…

  The harsh, cold tone had been worse than anything he’d ever used on Sam. But why had he said that Sam was his girlfriend? Was he using her to throw Marcy off of him?

  Hell, she’d take even that if it brought them closer together.

  The hostess silently took two menus and led her to a table. Sam sat, her gaze still firmly staying away from the huge front window where Damien and Marcy were talking quietly.

  Damn. She’d looked. She sat at the table and took one of the menus despite knowing everything on it.

  “The usual, Sam?” The waitress held her pen over her pad. Sam and her friends ate here often enough that most of the waitresses could recite each of their favorite dishes by heart.

  “Yes, thanks. Oh, and can you add pot stickers to that order?” Sam occasionally loved those meat-filled pockets of yum and hoped Damien did as well.

  “Sure thing. I’ll bring out your soda first, okay?”

  Sam nodded. “I’m not sure what Damien will want, so can you bring him some water?”

  “Sure thing.” The waitress walked away, her pad tucked into her apron.

  She glanced out the window to see Damien and Marcy in a heated argument. “Oh boy.” This wasn’t the way she’d envisioned her lunch date with Damien going. She’d hoped to connect with him, to find some common ground. She wanted to be with him, even if it was just as friends. Friends was a great place to start a relationship, or so she’d always believed.

  That Damien had tried to be friends with his ex spoke well of him, but it must have given Marcy the hope that some day he’d return to her. Sam wished Marcy would find someone worth all that passion.

  A soda was placed in front of her. “Here you go.” The waitress placed the pot stickers in front of Sam. “On the house.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled gratefully at the waitress. “I love you guys.”

  The waitress laughed. “We know! Tell your friends we miss them, okay? When’s the next best friends lunch?”

  Sam’s discomfort eased as she thought of her friends. “I think next week, but I’ll have to check.”

  “Good. We look forward to seeing you.” The waitress left Sam to her thoughts and some delicious-looking pot stickers.

  One more glance out the window, and her appetite was gone. Damien was hugging Marcy, rocking her slowly. Marcy was clenching her hands in Damien’s coat collar, her head on his shoulder. Sam turned away, the moment too intimate for her to be watching. Marcy deserved a little privacy for her meltdown. As long as Damien wasn’t hurt, Sam could give that to her.

  She could understand Marcy’s jealousy. Damien was handsome, strong, and protective of those he cared about. Who wouldn’t want all that, wrapped up in sharp intelligence and superhuman abilities? Sam certainly wouldn’t kick him to the curb, that was for sure. Perhaps she should have lied about the business lunch, but she didn’t want Marcy to think Damien was lying to her. Sam had told Andi about her not-a-date, so she’d assumed Damien must have told others as well. That would come out, and Marcy would be more hurt by the lie than by the truth.

  “Sam?”

  Sam glanced up, then out the window. Damien stood in front of her, but Marcy was nowhere to be found.

  Damien’s gaze was troubled, his tone filled with regret. “I’m so sorry about
that.”

  Sam shrugged. “I doubted you called her and told her we would be here, so there’s nothing for you to be sorry about.” Before he could say anything to that, she showed him the menu. “My favorite is the pork and mushrooms.”

  His gaze hardened. “Sam.”

  “My friend Grace swears by the moo goo gai pan.” Sam didn’t want to discuss it. She just wanted to enjoy her time with Damien, not think about any other women who might have been in his life long before she showed up.

  He tilted the menu down. She was surprised to see a small smile on his face. “I’m not planning on seeing her ever again.”

  “Is that fair to her?” Sam tilted her head. Much as she didn’t want to be on Marcy’s side, she didn’t want Damien to be a douche, either. “I mean, did she think more was going on than was really there?”

  He closed his eyes, the smile fading away. “All I ever wanted was to stay friendly with her. I try and do that with all of my exes, but it doesn’t always work out the way I hope it will.” He put his hand over hers. “Seriously, Sam. I wouldn’t lie to you about something this important. Not you. Not ever. I owe you more than that.”

  Okay. Maybe not a douche, just clueless. “Sometimes friendship can be seen as something more.”

  “Not all women are like that,” he muttered. Then he shook himself and grabbed one of the pot stickers, using the chopsticks like an expert.

  “I do,” she replied without thinking. She stared at him, horrified at what she’d just admitted.

  If he broke up with her there’d be no chance of friendship, not ever. She’d never get over him that way. He also was now aware that she saw their relationship as more than friendship. How he reacted would determine her next steps.

  He stared at her for a moment, his expression inscrutable, before nodding. A slow smile graced his lips, one that made her shiver with want. “I’ll remember that.” He sat back, glancing at the waitress when she arrived with a glass of water for him. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

  The waitress took note without a word and left them alone once more.

  Sam cleared her throat. This had to be the most awkward date she’d ever been on. “How’s business? Busy?”

  He grunted, ignoring the waitress when she put a soda in front of him. “It’ll be better now that Larry Palmer is gone.” He leaned forward again, dipping another pot sticker in the soy sauce before eating it. “This place is good.”

  “It’s my favorite Chinese restaurant.” Her hands were shaking again. He seemed focused on her, his gaze direct as he watched her eat. The man made her crazy with both desire and apprehension. He could break her without even trying. “My friends and I come here at least once a month just to chat and gossip.” Her cheeks heated. “Don’t worry, I won’t mention Marcy to anyone.”

  He grimaced. “That was so fucking embarrassing,” he muttered. “Can we forget that ever happened?”

  “Sure.” She nodded. She’d done the business and the ex-girlfriend. What else was there to talk about? She pondered, but came up blank.

  Damien didn’t seem to have the same problem. “What did you want to be when you grew up?”

  Sam was startled into a quiet laugh. “That’s a random question.”

  He shrugged. “I figured I’d ask something to break the ice. This is our first date, after all.”

  She blinked. “Not a date. An apology lunch.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Nope.” He took hold of her shaking hand. “This is most certainly our first date. Despite its awkward beginning, I intend for it to end beautifully.” His slow grin was wicked. “Even when I didn’t trust you I wanted you. Finding out you were innocent was like Christmas all over again. So indulge me, okay?”

  She stared at him for a moment, her mind blank one moment and whirling the next. Her cheeks were so hot she bet she could cook an egg on them. “Astronaut.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to answer for a moment.” He tilted his head. “Why astronaut?”

  “Have you seen the pictures of nebulas and galaxies put out by NASA?” Sam shivered. “They’re so ethereally pretty that I just wanted to go out there and explore them.” She smiled, feeling a little more at ease. “What about you?”

  He chuckled. “I wanted to be Spiderman.” His fingers absently toyed with hers.

  “You got the superhero part right, at least.”

  “There are other things I’m super at.” He wagged his eyebrows, making her laugh.

  “That was bad, Mr. Wyatt.”

  “Bad bad or good bad?”

  “Bad bad.” She shook her head, already feeling more at ease. “Okay.” She thought for a moment. “Um, favorite movie.”

  “Any Jason Bourne movie.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Typical guy.”

  He stuck his tongue out like a little boy, eyes crossed and everything. “Let me guess: you love either The Notebook or Dirty Dancing.”

  Sam sniffed in disdain. “Princess Bride, thank you very much.”

  He chuckled. “I do not think that means what you think that means.”

  She smiled, delighted that he quoted her favorite movie, so she admitted to her dirty little secret. “I love Clueless, too.”

  He frowned. “Is that the one with Tim Curry as a butler and had three endings?”

  “No, that’s the one with Alicia Silverstone as a high school student.” She quoted one of the more memorable lines from the movie, going totally Valley girl on him. “As if!”

  He blinked, unable to hide his obvious confusion. “Oh yeah. That one.”

  Sam sputtered out a laugh. “I’ll make you watch it some time.”

  He looked like a cat licking cream from its whiskers. “I look forward to it.”

  Oh boy. Time to change the subject. “Caught any bad guys lately?” Oh God. She couldn’t believe she’d blurted that out. “Ah, I mean—”

  He held up his hand, silencing her. “It’s okay.” He didn’t look pleased. He confirmed her suspicion with his next words. “I’m not happy, you know. We don’t usually let the people in our lives in on our secret unless they’re like Dante and Beth. I should have been the one to tell you, and only when I felt the time was right.” Sam went to defend her friend, but once again he held up his hand, silencing her. “You shouldn’t be anywhere near this, but…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck it. You know, so I’m going to take you up on what you offered before. Help me.” His expression turned serious, but at least the displeasure was gone. “What do you know about Armitage Computing?”

  Armitage? She tilted her head, running the data through her mind. “Armitage Computing was established in 1986 by Paul Armitage Sr. They were originally a design company, but Paul Jr.’s strengths wound up being on the security side. They’re a well-established company with an A-plus rating with the Better Business Bureau. The few complaints they have against them have been closed to the satisfaction of all parties in private arbitration.” She blinked, bringing her attention once more to Damien. “Why?”

  He looked utterly gobsmacked. “That’s way more than I expected.”

  “I’m good with that kind of thing.” She shrugged. “I tried to get a job there but they never called me in for an interview.”

  He winced. “Ah. Yes. Sorry. That might have been my fault. There are ways to make sure someone doesn’t get hired without actually speaking directly with HR. A quietly whispered bad reputation will do more than anything I could say to keep you from a job.”

  “Jesus, Damien.” She put her fork down, her appetite gone. “Why?”

  “I was protecting other companies from a thief, or so I thought.” He looked back at her, the apologetic expression at odds with his words. “Now I’m glad I did, because otherwise you’d be working for Armitage, no doubt about it.”

  She let that thought simmer. It wasn’t an apology, but she’d let it go for now. After all, she’d told him that no apologies were necessary. She just hadn’t realized she was harboring some bit
terness over what had happened. She’d have to address that with him, but later. “So. Why the interest in Armitage?”

  He waited until after the waitress delivered their pork and mushrooms before answering. “We got some information tying Armitage to a missing friend.”

  Well. That was a surprise. “Are you sure they said Armitage Computing? Their reputation is nearly spotless.”

  “The person said Armitage, but that was it.” He glanced around warily, as if afraid his enemy might be nearby, eavesdropping. “Dante is looking into some other possibilities. I’m looking into this one.”

  “What do you need from me?” Sam would help without question.

  “Nothing, yet. But…” He shook his head. “Damn it, I don’t want you involved, but I might need you to break through their security.” He stared at her, the determination in his gaze unwavering. “If this leads to finding my friend, I’ll use you. I’ll have no choice.”

  She understood. “I’d do just about anything to save my friends, too.” In fact, she planned on doing just that. If this person meant so much to Damien, she’d check out Armitage Computing on her own, without his knowledge. Hopefully, next time they spoke she’d have what he needed. “What’s your friend’s name again?”

  “Rafael.” The pain Damien voiced at his friend’s absence cemented her determination to help. “Rafael Vega.”

  Rafael Vega. An easy name to remember. She filed it away. She had the rest of the day off. She should be able to find at least a trail to follow. She’d start with the name and work from there.

  “Can I ask you something?” Damien picked at the pork and mushrooms, finally taking a bite. “Mm. It’s good.”

  “Sure. Ask away.” Sam began to eat, some of the tension leaving the conversation as Damien relaxed.

  “Do you think you’d like to go on another date?”

  She damn near choked on her pork. “What will your friends say about you dating a hacker?”

  Damien smiled, seeming more at ease than he had at any moment since arriving at the restaurant. “They’ll call me a lucky son of a bitch because it means you forgave me for the biggest fuck-up of my life.” The look on his face was so sincere she was inclined to believe him.

 

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