He took a menacing step in my direction. “Shut. Up.”

“I would if I didn’t need your help and all, but you’re not much good to me — or to Lugh — if you’re wigging out. So I’m asking you to ask yourself who you’re hurting more by not healing yourself. My money’s on Dominic. So I suggest you cancel the pity party and heal.”

Both Adam’s fists were clenched at his sides, and the glow in his eyes was almost too bright to look at. “Damn you!”

I shrugged, trying to look casual and unworried while my insides quivered. Adam in a rage is one of the scariest things I’ve ever seen. “Some would argue that I already am.”

I watched him struggle with himself for a long time. If the struggle went the wrong way, I had a sneaking suspicion he was going to forget his scruples about needing consent to hurt someone. I felt almost as bad about this whole mess as he did, but not enough to martyr myself for it. Which begs the question, why did I set myself up for it? But some questions I don’t want to ponder.

Finally, the glow in his eyes died. His shoulders sagged, and he shook his head with what looked like disgust.

“You’re right. I’m being a self-absorbed idiot.”

“So you’ll heal yourself?”

He nodded.

We both jumped at the sound of clapping hands. I guess we’d both been so focused on our staring contest, neither one of us had noticed Dominic opening the door. His eyes were brighter, more alive than I’d ever seen them.

“Brava!” he said, still clapping as he looked at me. “I never thought I’d see anyone best Adam in a battle of wills.”

“Fuck you,” Adam said, but there was no heat in his words.

Dominic grinned wider. “Any time, handsome.”

Apparently, he’d forgotten to be bashful around me. I’d have been embarrassed, but it was actually kind of cute — especially Adam’s chagrin. Offhand, I’d say Dominic had forgiven him, which made me feel a hell of a lot better. I might not understand or approve of their relationship, but I didn’t want to be the one to break it up. At least, not like that.

Dominic peeked over at the tray Adam had set down forever and a day ago. He frowned theatrically. “I see I slaved over a hot stove for nothing.” He looked at Adam. “Why don’t we invite our guest to join us downstairs for breakfast? We can discuss strategy.”

Adam hesitated only a moment before agreeing. “If you want to shower and change before you come down, we’ll wait,” he said. “We’ll be in the kitchen, down the stairs and to your right. Just follow the smell of food.”

“I’ll see you in a few,” I said.

I can’t tell you how much better I felt when they left and didn’t lock the door behind them.

The door to the black room was closed when I made my way downstairs about twenty minutes later with my hair damp and no makeup. I thanked God for small blessings.

At the foot of the stairs, I had a brief, almost overpowering urge to make a run for it. I managed to overcome it. I didn’t want to stay here a minute more than was necessary, but if nothing else, Adam could give me a lot of information. That’s assuming he was even willing to give me the time of day.

I found the kitchen easily enough. Adam was seated at the head of a rectangular butcher-block table, watching Dominic cook. There was no question of the fondness in Adam’s expression, and once again I wondered at it. One week ago, Dominic had been to all intents and purposes a different person. Why was Adam still carrying on a relationship with his lover’s host? I might have thought it was out of pity, but that wasn’t at all what it looked like.

When Adam caught a glimpse of me, the expression on his face cooled considerably. He sat up straighter in his chair, losing that relaxed, comfortable look. It made me feel oh-so welcome.

Dominic held no such grudge. He smiled over his shoulder at me. “Have a seat. Food is almost ready, and there’s coffee over there.” He pointed with his elbow, his hands busy at the stove.

I gratefully poured myself a mug of coffee, but couldn’t decide where to sit. I wanted to be as far away from Adam and his thundercloud as possible, but that would mean sitting at the foot of the table facing him. I settled for leaning a hip against the kitchen counter and cupping both hands around my mug. The coffee was heaven. Expensive stuff, by the taste of it, and freshly ground.

Dominic finished up at the stove, then set three plates on the table. He took the seat at Adam’s right, and I no longer had to decide where to sit.

An awkward, tense silence draped the room as I took my seat. Four wedges of French toast dusted with powdered sugar steamed at me invitingly. I caught the scents of vanilla and cinnamon, and my mouth watered obligingly. Too bad my stomach was clenched into a fist.

Adam drowned his French toast in maple syrup and started wolfing it down as if unaware of the tension. But the guarded look in his eye told me he was as aware of it as I.

“So,” Dominic said, his voice just a little too cheerful as he tried to force everyone to be at ease, “where do we go from here, eh?”

He passed the maple syrup to me. I obediently poured it, but I still didn’t think the knot in my stomach would loosen enough to let me eat.

“What do you mean?” Adam grunted. Most of his concentration was still on his plate.

“I mean, what’s the plan? Hiding and protecting Morgan is all well and good, but it’s not a long-term solution.”

Adam let his fork clatter onto his plate, though there was still a significant portion of his food left. He fixed me with a distinctly unfriendly look.

“Just so everyone’s clear,” he said in a pleasant voice while the expression on his face remained unpleasant, “we’re hiding and protecting Lugh, not Morgan.”

I couldn’t help but wince a little at that, even though I’d made the same point myself yesterday. It made me want to apologize some more, but I didn’t. For one thing, I was too stubborn. For another, I didn’t think it would do any good. I’m not sure if Adam actually hated me, but he certainly disliked me a lot.

“Don’t be an ass,” Dominic said, startling the hell out of me. I’d gotten the impression he was too deferential, too submissive to challenge Adam directly like that.

Even more surprising — Adam took it. “Sorry,” he mumbled, picking up his fork once more and digging into his French toast.

Dominic smiled at me. “Eat before it gets cold. Italians take it very hard when people don’t appreciate our cooking.”

The knot in my stomach loosened a bit, and I took a bite. That first taste was all it took. Tension be damned; this was too good to pass up. Maybe that’s why Adam was so fond of Dominic.

“Wow,” I said, savoring the delicate flavors. “This is delicious.” Adam was still shoveling it in like a pig at a trough. I took my life in my hands and said, “You might want to slow down and actually taste it. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

He froze with his fork an inch from his mouth, his eyes locking on mine in what I suspect was shock. Yeah, I had a lot of nerve poking fun at him at a time like this, but I couldn’t help myself.

Finally, he rolled his eyes, and a hint of a reluctant smile pulled the corners of his mouth upward. He put his fork down and cut the massive bite he’d been about to shove in his mouth in half.

“Is that better?” he asked.

I nodded, and Dominic gave me another one of those fabulous smiles. He seemed to like me a hell of a lot more than Adam did.

“So,” Dominic said, “let’s try this again. What’s our next step?”

I’d have rather just eaten breakfast in peace, savoring the delicious food, but I supposed making plans was more important. Now, if only I had some idea what to do…

Adam looked at me. “I didn’t have much time to talk to Lugh yesterday. Can you give me an off-the-record recap of everything that’s happened?”