Chapter Sixteen
“I know the names of those you worked with, and I know a little bit about their specialties. But not much more.” Gabe shrugged casually. “I’m just curious. What was it like working with the leader of Sirius?”
“You mean Genevieve?”
“Genevieve Rayne.” Gabe nodded. “That’s right. I’ve heard good things. Tell me about her.”
Angel thought about the fair-haired warrior. Holy hell, that woman was tough. She could take a punch, turn around, and double its intensity when she returned it. She had a fitness model’s body, tall and lean. She was a stunner with those shining green-gray eyes and that impossible mass of gold hair. And she was seriously smart. In all honesty, if Jacob Crow hadn’t been possessing nearly every waking moment of Angel’s attention, she would have taken the opportunity to emulate Rayne a lot more than she had. It was Genevieve who came up with most of their ideas, and it was Genevieve who’d made the main discovery toward the end that led them to Victor Maze’s whereabouts. In fact, it was Gen who figured out Vicium was Maze in the first place.
But she was covered in her fair share of scars from battles and she always wore jeans and long-sleeved shirts because of it. She even had a small scar on her left temple from where a bullet had supposedly grazed her.
Angel shook her head. “Gen’s amazing,” she said honestly. “She’s more than earned her position as head of Sirius. She’s brilliant, talented.” She laughed, chugging from her beer before she went on. “And not that it matters, but she’s drop dead gorgeous.”
Gabriel was quiet a moment; Angel could feel his eyes on her. Then he asked, “And the others? I know one was from the Draco clan. What was he like?”
Angel nodded. “Eli.” She took another drink, barely noticing that she was drinking a lot faster now. “Elijah Crestfall, assassin for Draco. Yeah….” She thought about the man for a moment. “He was quiet, really. But he supplied invaluable tactical advice when we would move in on an area. And boy can that man take off a head.” She would never forget the images of his sword slicing cleanly through the necks of his enemies. “He gives me the impression of being someone who will do whatever it takes to get a job done, and in as short a time as possible.”
The waiter reappeared, and Angel found herself looking down at a third beer as it was placed before her. She blinked, frowning a little. She never drank this much. When was the last time she’d had more than a beer, or beer and a half? She couldn’t even remember, it had been so long. Some kind of alarm was going off in the back of her mind, but it was oddly muted, and she was able to ignore it.
“Go on,” instructed Gabriel. “Who else?”
Angel obeyed, not even realizing she was doing so. “There was Gray,” she said. “Graham Campbell from Rigel. He’s second-in-command. Vet, war hero, decorated. Became a warden when he returned home and a week later, a warlock killed his son. They were fighting over a girl, apparently.” Angel grabbed her fresh beer and took a drink. “He’s not overly fond of mages, as you can imagine.” She remembered being grateful that her own abilities were masked by the wards she automatically wore every day when going in to work.
All wardens with anything to hide wore these wards. The clans employed every manner of beast, human and otherwise. Yet it was understood that prejudices sometimes formed amongst their ranks. If a werewolf killed your family, you probably wouldn’t want to work with werewolves that much. Hence, because it was imperative wardens worked together without judgment hindering their decisions or actions, wards were worn as commonly as clothing to all warden meetings.
Angel had her own. No one but Gabe and the sovereigns knew she was a healer. It was very important. She wondered if any of the members of the team she’d worked with on Victor’s case had secrets like hers. Were they all human? They bled like humans, and they ate and drank like humans. But then again, the wards allowed for that too. Even vampires could eat and drink with them. It was why they were so powerful. They really did make it impossible for others to tell what your “secret” was. For all she knew, a dragon could have been among the team of five who tracked down Victor Maze. She wouldn’t have known it.
“He doesn’t know you’re a mage, right?” Gabriel asked, as if following her train of thought. She shook her head, and after swallowing her next sip of beer, she said, “No. Not likely. I kept my walls up just like always and just like everyone.”
She was feeling a little light headed. And a lot good. Nothing hurt now, and her brain was feeding her mouth words without running them through any kind of filter first. It was surprisingly refreshing to not worry. Or at least, to not realize that she should worry. It was nice to relinquish control.
“Who else?” Gabe asked.
“The only one left is Jake,” Angel said. As she spoke his name, she saw his face in her mind’s eye, and she felt her body grow warm. Her lips parted in that new flush of heat. She couldn’t stop it.
“Jacob Crow?” Gabe asked.
“Yeah,” she volunteered with far too little reluctance. “From Monsters.” She moved a little in her chair as she remembered the way his eyes felt on her. And the sound of his voice. And then she had the urge to check her phone, and just as she was straightening so she could slip her hand into her jacket pocket to retrieve it – it hit her what she’d just done.
When she looked up at Gabriel across the table, her sudden realization was confirmed. And just like that, it all became clear to her: The empty table just waiting for them in the corner of the bar, the non-stop service and ice-cold beers that went down so easy, the deceptively casual questions.
Angel was a light-weight when it came to alcohol of any kind, and a heady buzz happened after only one beer. Finishing two bottles was a contract with danger. And the leader of the Vega clan knew that. He was adept at strategy, he was always one step ahead of her in everything they did, and he was very, very good at deciphering small clues.
There had been no coincidence in them coming to the Gasoline. He’d probably called the bar from the parking lot while she was showering and changing. Nor was it a coincidence that the bartender knew what to bring them and that the server continued a steady supply. Least coincidental of all was Gabriel’s interrogation.
He’d planned this all along, and she’d just given herself away then and there. She had it bad for Jacob Crow, a fellow warden. And now Gabriel – her boss – knew all about it.
By the flash of victory and disappointment that passed through Gabriel’s eyes, it was clear he snatched up the evidence of her guilt with keen perception. Angel cursed herself for daring to drink anything at all in his ultra-sharp presence, especially when she was already tired, and extra especially three whole beers.
He didn’t say anything. But his eyes sparked like amber fireworks in a shaded gaze that darkened further as he sat back in the booth across from her. Angel swallowed hard, suddenly feeling all too sober. She couldn’t help but wonder what his look meant. It made her uncomfortable, like she was playing with fire, and Gabriel was walking, talking lighter fluid.
But the pregnant silence between them was interrupted when Gabe’s phone emitted a unique ring tone from his jacket pocket. Angel’s eyes widened a little. That ringtone was reserved for calls coming from up top.
Gabe gave her a meaningful look that was completely different from the one he’d been wearing a few seconds ago. He pulled his phone out quickly and answered it. “Mr. D’Angelo,” he said calmly.
Angel could hear the Vampire King on the other end of the line. He had a distinctive, deep, and decidedly sexy voice. She might not be overly fond of vampires, but she’d been a warden for a long time and she wasn’t uneducated. She recognized and admitted that vampires were virtually composed of sex appeal.
“Santiago,” D’Angelo replied. “I have a priority job for you. The file will hit your desk tomorrow morning. I’m requesting certain members for your team. I’m also sending an addendum that you’ll need to discuss with a specific subordinate.”
“Understood.” Gabe said when D’Angelo had finished. He hung up, re-pocketing his phone.
Angel stood up and pulled a twenty from one of her jacket pockets. But Gabriel shook his head. “It’s on me.”
No, she thought, because then I have to admit you were in charge here the whole time and you just played me. “I’m covering the tip,” she insisted, turning away from the table before he could argue. She heard his boots right behind her on the wood flooring, so she wasn’t surprised when he reached a strong arm around her to open the bar’s front door for her.
“Thanks,” she said, stepping out into the cool night air.
The ride home was relatively quiet and tense. Angel felt weird. She’d had enough alcohol to still be under its influence, but not in the way she would have liked. She felt slow and a touch sick, but still worried. Still stressed. Even more than before maybe, since Gabe had caught her out. She really, really didn’t want to lose her job.
When they pulled up in front of her apartment, Angel reached for the door handle, but he stopped her with a hand around her wrist. It was firm but gentle. “Hey,” he said, pulling her back on the seat and drawing her gaze to his. “Please get some sleep. You need it.”
“Gee, thanks,” she said with a wry smile.
“I mean it. I might be good at what I do, but I trained you. You normally catch onto things a lot quicker than you did tonight.”
Angel blinked, frowning. “Were you testing me?”
Gabe shook his head; the dashboard light reflected in his amber eyes. “No. I was grilling you,” he admitted, his voice deep and calm. “I wanted information that you hadn’t been willing to share.”
She swallowed hard, glancing at his hand around her wrist. He kept it there a little longer, and that sent a strange warmth through Angel.
“And you gave it to me,” he rubbed in. “The thing is, under normal circumstances you wouldn’t have. Whatever is happening with you….” His tone lowered, becoming quieter but harder. “Whether it’s Crow’s doing or not, it has to stop. You need rest. Don’t make me pull rank on you.”
She stared up at him, and after a few seconds, his expression softened. He smiled a small smile, easing the tension in Angel’s gut. “Okay?” he asked, as if he was joking about the last part. But she knew he wasn’t. And she also knew he was right.
She didn’t say anything, but she nodded.
Gabriel finally released her wrist, and Angel turned away from him. She opened her door, dropped out of the Rover to her booted feet, and shut it firmly behind her. Then she made her way to the downstairs entry to the building and fished for her keys. Normally she had them already out and ready in her hand, but she was off her game tonight.
She could feel Gabriel watching her from parking lot, making sure she made it safely inside like he always did. She was torn about that. As usual.
But once she had the door open, she turned and waved. He waved once back and pulled out of the lot, and Angel trudged upstairs as if weights had been tied to her ankles. By the time her head hit the pillow a few minutes later, she was easily ten times heavier than usual… and sleep claimed her with a greedy embrace.