but that doesn’t mean anything. We can look like anything we want. Someone appearing to this group—and I don’t think anyone is—could easily make themselves blond or bald or whatever. I think you’re trying to shift the blame off yourself and Jerome.”
“I’m not! Look, I don’t want to get mired in any of this. I just want to finish my job and go home. And if you ask me, I think someone’s trying to work you over and send you looking in the wrong places.” Good Lord. I sounded like everyone else now. Soon I’d be telling him he was “getting played.”
“Isabelle wouldn’t do it,” he maintained. “We’re friends…well, kind of.”
It was funny that demons lied and betrayed each other all the time, yet he somehow stood by the character of someone who was technically his enemy. I understood it, though. Jerome maintained a similarly bizarre friendship with Seattle’s archangel, Carter.
“Can you get me in touch with her?”
Cedric regarded me in amazement. “You’re really going to run with this?”
“I’m not sabotaging you—but I want to find out who is.”
“That’s a lot of work just to take the attention off yourself.”
I simply looked at him, maintaining as determined a look as I could in the hopes that he’d believed me. I also hoped the taboo demons maintained about messing with the employees of other demons would hold. Apparently it did because he said at last, “I’ll show you how to contact her, as pointless as that is.”
I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. “Thank you.”
He shook his head. “But don’t think you’re in the clear. I’m still going to be watching you.”
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