Magic Undying (Dragon's Gift: The Seeker #1)(33)

He turned to look at me. “Nice pants.”

I glanced down at the dancing penguins. “I’m not all black leather.” In fact, I had a serious fondness for cartoon pajamas. “What are you doing?”

He turned. “Making dinner.”

“I just figured you’d pop a frozen pizza in the oven or something.”

He shrugged. “You looked pretty beat. I thought you could use a decent meal.”

He was making me dinner? While wounded?

Huh.

That was really nice of him. But the guy was gonna give me whiplash. One second, it was all I’m going to drag you back to hell, and the next it was like Here’s a nice, home-cooked meal.

He was strong, deadly, mostly silent, and… domestic? He’d make sure I followed the rules of the Underworld, but he’d take care of me while doing it.

“Thanks,” I said. “What is it?”

“Stir-fry.”

“Like, with vegetables? Where’d you find those?” I was a beige vegetarian, sticking primarily to the easier, less healthy veggie options like cheese pizza and pasta.

“Back of the freezer. A mixed bag.”

Huh. Who knew? Not my usual thing, but I’d been on a few failed health kicks over the last few years.

I sniffed, getting a hint of soy sauce and garlic. I hadn’t expected that whatever he scavenged from my kitchen could smell so good.

“So, you’re kind of a good cook?” I asked.

“Not bad. I needed a hobby. Life can’t be all managing the Underworld.” He picked up a sweating brown beer bottle that had been sitting near the stove and took a sip.

Just the sight made me thirsty, so I grabbed a chipped coffee mug and headed to the fridge. I kept the beer on hand for when I visited Cass at her place, but I always had boxed red wine on hand. Cheap and tasty.

As I was filling my coffee mug from the box in the fridge, Roarke spoke. “I just want you to know, however this works out, I’m not sending you back to hell.”

I stood and glanced at him, surprised. “You’re not?”

“Not to hell.” His gaze met mine, unwavering. “But you do have to go back to the Underworld. You shouldn’t be in hell, though. You’re obviously not a bad person. There will be a decent place in one of the heavens for you.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, looking weary. “But I didn’t want you to worry about ending up in a shitty place like hell.”

So he was worried about me? But not enough to spare me. “Uh, that’s not exactly what I’m looking for. I belong on Earth. With my friends.”

His gaze turned dark, almost tormented. “There are rules, Del. Good rules for good reasons. Following them keeps the Underworlds in line. I can’t make exceptions.”

There was something on his face, both sad and terrible. “Did you once? Make an exception for someone you shouldn’t have?”

His face closed off, but I had him. I totally did. Roarke, the consummate rule follower, had once broken the rules for someone.

And been hurt because of it. Or hurt someone. Had it been the brother that Aidan had mentioned?

Whoever it had been, it seemed that now he wasn’t going to break the rules for anyone else. From the pain on his face, I’d guess he was bound by the rules as strictly as I was bound by my secrecy.

My stomach growled, but I ignored it and studied him as he did something chef-like with the veggies in the skillet. Roarke was stiff as a board, and not from his injury. He clearly didn’t like where this conversation had gone.

So I’d save my questions for later. I could be patient if it suited my end-goal. Though it made me twitchy.

But something had really been bothering me about where I’d ended up in the Underworld.

“Why did I end up in hell, if I’m not a bad person?” I asked.

“It wasn’t really hell. It was an abandoned part of the Underworld that’s been used to temporarily hold souls who don’t go straight to a specific Underworld. Some souls automatically go to an Underworld, particularly if they adhered to a religion on Earth.”

“So, ancient Romans go to Elysium, and the Vikings went to Valhalla? Modern Christians go to heaven or hell? That kind of thing.”

“Exactly. But if you didn’t practice a certain religion, you might end up in a holding Underworld before you’re sent to a permanent Underworld. That’s where you’d end up. There’s good parts to it as well.”

I remembered flashes of the beautiful meadow that had appeared through the haze. And his garden at his Underworld fortress. Ugh. I didn’t like this subject.

“How’s the food coming?” I asked. “I’m famished.”

Roarke turned back to the stove and poked the contents of the skillet with the spatula. “Looks about done.”

“It smells great.”

He smiled, and my stupid heart beat faster. When he turned back and started dishing up the food, I pinched myself.

Get it together. This guy was dangerous. No liking his food. No getting swoony over his smile or his muscles. Definitely no falling for him.

When he turned to me and handed me a bowl, I tried to smile like a normal person. I think it came out pretty weird, but my voice sounded mostly normal at least. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Hope it’s decent.”