Blackstone's eyes narrowed. "This isn't about me and Nora. Any reason you tacked on that last sentence?"

Darius made himself take a deep breath. He couldn't afford to get any angrier than he was. "I don't want to deal with Ariel Summers."

"Why not?"

"She's obsessed with Darius."

"So?"

"It won't be good for her. I won't have anything to do with it."

"So don't tell her about him." Blackstone stood, went to the downstairs refrigerator, which stood in an alcove near the microwave and shelves full of popcorn, and took out a pale ale from the Rogue Brewery.

As he opened the bottle, he paused. Darius slid down among the sections, not wanting to see Blackstone's face, but the man was so tall his expression was unavoidable.

"You're in love with her," Blackstone said, with something like awe in his voice. "That's why you don't want to tell her about Darius. You're in love with her."

"I don't know her," Darius mumbled.

"That explains why you run from her, why you won't talk to her." Blackstone came around the sectional and sat down near Dar. "The man saved her life. She's going to be obsessed with him until someone or something else gets her interest."

"And you think that'll be me?" Darius swept his hands down his tiny body.

"Not in those clothes," Blackstone said.

Darius snorted. "She falls for a guy who looks like paintings of the angel Gabriel and you think she'll go for me?"

"Why not?"

"Have you ever seen me with a woman?"

Blackstone clutched the bottle, as if he didn't know how to drink from it. His epiphany had apparently interrupted his ritual. "I've never seen you interested in anyone before. You are usually so rude, you push them away."

"I was rude," Darius said.

"And she didn't leave."

Darius sighed. "She wants to find out more about Darius. It's not about me at all."

"Why couldn't it be?" Blackstone asked.

Darius pushed himself upright. "You handsome guys have no clue, do you?"

Blackstone blinked at him, clearly astonished at Dar's tone.

"It's never about guys like me. We're the villains of the piece. Or we're the comic relief. You see it everywhere. The evil trolls or the cute dwarves--the little men who take care of Snow White and sing 'Hi-ho!' And then, when Prince Charming shows up, we're supposed to step aside because a beautiful woman wouldn't want one of us when she can have you."

Darius stood and stomped across the cushions, careful to avoid the cracks between the sections. Blackstone watched from his seat at the edge of the sectional.

"And why wouldn't she want you?" Darius asked. "Look at you. Exactly what the fairy tale ordered: tall--"

"I can't help that," Blackstone said.

"Dark." Darius flicked at a lock of Blackstone's black hair.

Blackstone touched his scalp as if Dar's flick had burned him.

"And handsome. The whole package." Darius jumped off the couch and landed on the floor. He was shorter standing full height than Blackstone was sitting down. "You don't have to be smart or brave or funny. Those are just bonuses. All you need to be is pretty and you get the girl, every time."

"I only got the girl once," Blackstone said, clutching his unopened beer bottle as if it were his lifeline.

"Really?" Darius crossed his arms. "Just once?"

"Yeah," Blackstone said. "Nora. And, as you so kindly pointed out, that took ten years."

"Nora," Darius said with emphasis, "is your soul mate. I'm talking about all the other women around you."

"What women?" Blackstone asked. "I didn't see your Ariel make any pa.s.ses at me."

"Emma thought you were good enough to kiss."

"A thousand years ago," Blackstone said. "Ten years ago she was throwing dishes at me and begging you to take her out of my life."

"The next time you go into a crowded room with me," Darius said, "watch the women. See how they look at you, then see if they even notice me."

"They notice you."

"Sometimes," Darius said. "They think we're Mutt and Jeff."

"You have to update your references. No one remembers that comic strip." Blackstone retreated into sarcasm and superiority when he was nervous.

"Usually though," Darius said, ignoring the sarcasm, "they don't notice me unless I say something rude. Then they look at me as if I'm a bug they want to squash."

"Most people don't appreciate rudeness," Blackstone said in that same superior tone.

"Don't you think I know that?" Darius asked. "When I speak normally, rationally, calmly, they don't hear me at all. I could be talking to myself, although sometimes I even wonder why myself would listen."

"That's not true," Blackstone said. "I've never noticed anyone ignoring you."

Darius let out an annoyed puff of air. "Of course not. I'm always rude."

"Even before you were always rude."

"You didn't know me then," Darius said.

"I've been around you when you're not rude. People notice you then."

"I'm only polite to friends," Darius said. "And only when I'm having a bad day."

"Well, you're not having a bad day today then," Blackstone said.

Darius clenched his fists. For the first time in their relationship, Darius felt like punching Blackstone. "I'm having a terrible day. I found out that my best friend holds me in contempt."

Blackstone raised his eyebrows. "You?"

That was a slip. Darius hadn't meant that to come out the way it had. Blackstone had only obviously held Darius in contempt, without realizing Darius was before him.

"Yes, me," Darius said. "You seem to think I've been happy all these years, that I've chosen to live like this."

"I think every lifestyle is a choice," Blackstone said, pulling his beer closer to his chest.

"Really?" Darius leaned in and swiped the beer bottle. It was warm from Blackstone's hand. "You think I like looking like someone's lawn ornament? You think I planned to be the sarcastic sidekick?"

"You're not my sidekick."

"Oh?" Darius stalked to the small counter, found the bottle opener, and opened the ale. Then he walked back to the couch. "What do you call our relationship?"

"We're friends."

Darius shoved the bottle at him. "If we're friends, how come you're surprised I have a home in Idaho?"

Blackstone looked at the bottle as if it were a bomb. "Because you've elected to keep parts of your life secret."

"Have I?" Darius asked. "Or have you just failed to ask me about myself?"

Blackstone's dark gaze met his for a moment. There was something in Blackstone's expression that Darius hadn't seen before. A fear, a vulnerability, maybe even a sheepishness.

"I don't think friends have to quiz each other," Blackstone said.

"I'm not talking about quizzing." Darius pushed the bottle into Blackstone's hand, until Blackstone had to grab it in self-defense. "I'm talking about simple, ordinary, polite questions."

"I ask you questions," Blackstone said.

"Do you?" Darius asked. "Then when I go away for ten days every year, where do I go?"

Blackstone shrugged. "You take vacations."

"Yes," Darius said, letting sarcasm creep into his voice. "What kinds of vacations?"

Blackstone was beginning to look trapped. "You went to Cannes once."

"Once?" Dar's voice rose. "Once?"

"I think," Blackstone said. "You told me about the starlets, I'm pretty sure."

"Pretty sure? Does that sound like a man who is paying attention?"

"Well, you don't talk about yourself much."

"You don't ask much," Darius said. "Sometimes I think I could disappear and no one would care."

"That's not fair." Blackstone swung his legs around so that his feet rested on the floor. He braced the beer on his knee. "When it became obvious that you weren't coming back to the restaurant, I came right over here."

"On your own recognizance, or did Nora have something to do with it?"

Blackstone looked down.

"Nora said something, didn't she?"

"She's quicker about these things than I am. I would have come as soon as I realized there was a problem."

"There was a problem when you didn't respect my wishes, when you insisted that I see Ariel."

"What's with Ariel? Why is she so important?"

Darius grabbed Blackstone's beer and took a swig from the bottle. He wasn't a big pale ale fan--he kept those bottles for Blackstone--but right now the ale tasted good.

"She has a soul mate," Darius said, "and it's not me."

"Did Darius tell you that?"

"Knowing those kinds of things is Darius's specialty," Darius said with just a hint of irony.

"Is he attracted to her?"

"Who isn't?" Darius asked.

"Me," Blackstone said.

Darius glared at him.

Blackstone held up his hands like a man about to be robbed. "She's not my type. No one has been my type since I met Nora. You know that."

"I thought guys just said that."

"Not this guy." Blackstone grabbed his beer back from Dar. "If he's attracted to her, maybe he's lying to you."

Darius gritted his teeth. Nothing seemed to change Blackstone's opinion. "He's not lying."

Blackstone must have caught the edge in Dar's voice because he inclined his head forward the way people sometimes did with the violent or the mentally ill. "All right. Has he ever been wrong?"

"Not since Napoleon and Josephine, and even that could be argued in his favor. After all, Napoleon wasn't entirely sane--"

"So he has been wrong," Blackstone said.

Darius went to the fridge and got his own beer, a Black b.u.t.te Porter. He struggled to open it, debated whether or not he should smash the mouth against the counter, and finally used his magic to get the cap off.

"Right?" Blackstone said. "He's been wrong."