“So?”
“The actual title of the book is Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. It was also written in 1865, not 1862.”
“Oh.”
“It explains why all the booksellers CSI had contacted weren’t able to provide any information about the book. The agency still has agents working on tracking it down, but right now it’s low priority, and they’ve resumed search for any other possible vehicle.”
A part of me had imagined solving this case would be a wham-bam, thank-you-ma’am kind of thing, but obviously not. And I should’ve expected that. Our missing subject wouldn’t have been able to escape Tartarus if he or she wasn’t an expert at hiding evidence.
Hadrian and I had already gone to bed, and I was feeling the urge to yawn for the first time in my ghostly life when I remembered his visit to Mt. Olympus. “You never mentioned how your visit there went. Is it because it’s top secret or…”
“I went there to ask the Moirai about you.”
“Moirai?”
“The Fates.”
I perked up. “I know them from—-”
He shot me a warning look.
“This movie I saw when I was a kid,” I said instead. “What did the, um, Moirai say? Anything good?” I saw Hadrian’s jaw clench and heard myself say, “That’s not good.” And when he only looked at me, I pushed myself up and clutched the covers to my chest. “It’s that bad?”
“It…depends.”
“It isn’t like you to beat around the bush,” I pointed out uneasily, “so it can’t be good.”
“How honest do you want me to be?” he asked finally.
“Don’t-leave-anything-out kind of honest.”
“Alright.” And before I could hold my breath, he had already said it. “I’m your unfinished business.”
Chapter Eight
DEAR DIARY,
Remember my last entry and I told you I’d, um, try to have my own phone? Yeah, well, didn’t work. Apparently, anything that I can’t wear…don’t go invisible with me. Sucks, right?
HADRIAN HAD ME AGAINST the shower’s glass enclosure, and my legs were locked around his waist. Things were happening fast and furious, and so wonderfully good that even though we wanted it to last, it was just impossible. Heat consumed us, and when my body finally reached breaking point, I could only moan against his lips, and Hadrian thrust his tongue deep into my mouth as his manhood drove inside of me one last time.
It was the morning after Hadrian’s fated revelation, and if this seemed like we were celebrating, well…not quite. Hadrian had wanted us to talk some more about it, but I had chickened out because I just wasn’t ready yet. Instead, I had told him we could talk about it after we got his missing subject back into Tartarus. And when that happened, well, I was hoping I’d know by then what I really wanted.
After our interlude at the shower, Hadrian had another gift waiting for me, and this time it was the whole shebang: denim jacket, frilly blouse and a floral skirt to match, and the most gorgeous pair of silk underwear.
“This is beautiful.”
“I sense a but.”
“But should I be worried you have wonderful taste in women’s clothes?”
“I wish I could give you a phone,” Hadrian muttered as he pulled me down to his lap.
“But you can’t, since using it outside this room will cause mass hysteria.”
“I’ll ask Hephaestus about this.”
“Okay.” Did I even want to try spelling that? Or should I just repeat it to Siri and have her Google the name instead?
“If you get in trouble again, there is one way for you to contact me. Go to my study, and you’ll find a landline. Use it to dial 911—-”