by J. A. Saare
The bitch is fucking crazy.
When he didn't respond, I tried to change the conversation.
To combat his worry, I finished with my boots and stood. If we kept this conversation going, I'd become a sobbing mess in front of him. He wouldn't know how to deal with that.
"After I sever the debt, I don't want to be anywhere around her," I said quietly. "I'm not falling into anymore debts or making anymore bargains. My ears were closed before but they are completely open now." I exhaled and met his eyes, somehow finding the will to hold his gaze. When he didn't look away, I swallowed back my dismay and asked, "So you have things that might help? What did you find?"
"Not here," he said. "There's something I want to show you."
"Let me guess, you want to play show and tell?" I wanted to rise above the dismal feelings consuming me. "You know how I feel about show-me-yours-and-I'll-show-you-mine."
The worry in his face faded as he smiled, bestowing rows of perfect white teeth. The grin was like the sun parting the clouds to give me what I needed. I'd forgotten how hocking cute he could be. With that reaction, I realized he wasn't completely repulsed by me.
I wondered if he'd be a rarity.
After Gabriel pricked the wedge of his maker's skull from my head and cleaned my face in the enormous fountain Marius had purchased, I'd come back to myself. It had been all kinds of fucked-up to see my blood swirling in the basin, changing the water from brilliant blue to tangy orange. The legend said lovers who drank from The Lovers' Fountain would never forget each other.
The irony hadn't been lost on me.
He'd gotten me decent and informed the witnesses the show was over.
I'd watched them leave, knowing they'd just seen me torture a master vampire, remove his head, send the appendage to Hell, and take a kiddie bath when all was said and done. I'd wondered if they had gotten more than they bargained for while enjoying the show. In allowing me to kill Marius, Gabriel revealed I could get away with murder.
No doubt the family and witnesses feared me.
I'd fear me too.
"Show me what?" I combed my fingers through my hair, trying not to think about the night before, and went to retrieve the elastic band I'd placed on the dresser. "Something snazzy?"
"Since we don't use the same vernacular, you'll have to tell me."
My heart filled with joy.
This was the Ethan McDaniel I wanted beside me.
Paranormal investigator. The purest of them all.
My teacher and guide.
Past or present, he would always be Goose to me.
"It's a surprise," he added. "I'd like to show you in person."
"Sounds fantastic." What I said was true, but I had to do something first. I finished tucking my hair into a loose bun and pivoted on my heel. "One sec. Be right back."
I darted into the closet, pulled out one of Disco's dress shoes, and tugged the amulet off my neck. The family wouldn't know that he'd asked me not to wear the necklace while at home. I agreed we should keep it that way. He didn't mind giving the talisman back since I wouldn't accept the change, but he wanted to make sure I only used the amulet when I had to. He'd told me the magic tried to interrupt him when he wanted to be tranquil. The power of the stone created barriers to peace when none should exist. He didn't like the amulet, nor did he want me wearing it, but he accepted the charm gave me a measure of protection I needed. As soon as the necklace was tucked away, I realized my camisole wouldn't work.
Everyone would see the amulet wasn't with me.
Damn.
I had to buy new clothes.
I rose and looked at the garments across from me. We weren't on The Minnow anymore, so Gabriel had plenty to go around. He wouldn't mind me taking one of his shirts.
A thought stirred.
He'd like me wearing his garments.
Doing so would announce to everyone that I belonged to him.
I yanked a white dress shirt off the hanger, pulled off the plastic covering, and slid my arms into it. It was too big for me, forcing me to roll up the sleeves and secure buttons up to the last one at my throat. I tied the bottom into a knot at my waist, shifted my body to make sure no one would notice anything, and I was ready to go.
"Show me you must, so lead me you will." I tried to give Goose my best Yoda impersonation as I exited the closet, attempting to become the person he once knew me to be. "Off to our destination we will go. Show the way, young Padawan."
"What in the world is a Padawan?" His perplexed response was a blast from the past. He was as intrigued as he was disapproving. The voice had thrown him since he didn't recognize it or understand why I'd used it.
He probably thought I'd lost my last marble.
"It's a stage of Jedi training."
He looked even more confused when he opened the door and glanced at me. He didn't do films. I mean, he did, but not like normal people. He'd only found The Rocky Horror Picture Show when someone told him about it. He thought being a fan of that flick made him a connoisseur of a cult status cinema. He preferred to read books, not watch movies.
To give him terms I hoped he understood, I clarified, "Star Wars?"
His inner light bulb clicked on. "Oh."
Thank God.
"Follow me," he said, back in his proper fighting form.
I'd never understood why he wasn't like the other nerds I'd known in my life. Most studied while also paying attention to cinema, television, and Dungeons and Dragons.
I didn't delve far into the line of thought.
The poor bastard saw dead people, just like me.
Anyone with that capacity was bound to have screws loose.
I was the poster child of how necromancy could fuck you up.
I hesitated at the threshold, staring at the inches that created a room and hallway at my feet. I assumed this is what some girls endured after their first one-night stand. I experienced shame, recalling my bloodthirsty behavior the night before. Marius had seriously fucked-up, but skinning him in front of a group wasn't something I was proud of in the light of day. I'd imagined what I'd do if Revenald was delivered to me on the boat right after Paine and Jenny's passing. When stuck in my grief, I invented all kinds of ways I'd make him suffer.
Gabriel had apparently seen and absorbed those ideas.
Goose noticed my quandary. "Everything good?"
"Yeah." I took that first step, the biggest one, and made it to landing. I closed the door behind me and looked at him. "Sally forth."
He got me loud and clear, meaning he was sliding back in time.
We'd been like this before—awkward, puzzled, yet utterly fascinated by each other—and I'd worried our interactions would never be the same. The last time he'd seen me, Marigold had been in my body. She'd hit him so hard he flew across the room. If it had been me, I'd have remembered and stayed away.
But he wasn't me and never would be.
We passed the rooms along the hall in silence, but when we made it to the staircase, I had to ask, "How did you know what Disco wanted before we got here?" They'd been in contact. That was obvious. "How did Marius know he was coming?"
Why was he waiting for us in front of that atrocious fountain?
He kept his back to me. "Ask Gabriel."
The more things changed, the more things stayed the same.
Or did they?
I'd have argued with him before, riding him hard, demanding answers. He'd have skirted the issue, and I'd have kept pushing. It was a dance we knew well. But now, walking through the home I'd taken for granted once, I didn't feel the need to press him for more than he was ready to give me.
Weird.
I shrugged it off, following my odd friend.
We hooked a hard right, heading toward the kitchen and dining area.
We didn't bump into any family members, which was strange. I'd taken on Gabriel's schedule on the boat, meaning I stayed up at night and slept during the day. It was early in the evening, and they didn't have to
sleep. At least one or two of them should have been around.
Goose stopped in front of the kitchen. "You're going to love it, I think."
"Love what? The suspense is killing me."
He walked through the pivot door with a huge grin. "This."
I followed him and found myself at the far end of the room.
Vampires didn't eat actual food, so it had become a personal space of mine after I'd started visiting Disco. He kept my favorites in the pantry and fridge, although I primarily ate toast and peanut butter. I let my eyes wander over the counters, searching for what Goose meant, when my eyes drifted to the dining area.
Oh my God.
I had to unclog my throat to inhale, taking in the glorious sight.
A gorgeous billiard table replaced the table and chairs that had been there before. The item wasn't mere game room furniture but had been created for someone who loved the sport. It wasn't meant for a bar, nor was it standard size. This puppy was a tournament table created for those who really wanted to practice and ace their shots. A rack of eight had been placed on the diamond—my personal favorite.
I groaned, shoulders sagging, and bypassed the kitchen altogether.
"Do you like it?" Goose asked.
"It's part of God's plan." Praise be His name. "I don't like. I love."
I approached the radiant beast, taking it in.
Silky red felt. Tight pockets. Beautiful and polished wood. I placed my hand on a rail. Giving it a test, I leaned against it. The table didn't shift, and I wanted to pump my fist. Not only was it pretty, this baby was balanced.
You blessed thing. You fabulous fucking creature.
"There are cues if you want to play." Goose motioned to the wall I hadn't paid attention to. His voice changed somewhat when he told me, "I wanted to get yours from your apartment before your lease ran out, but I didn't have a key."
That drew me short, making me focus on him and not the table.
He said I had to talk to Gabriel about their private conversations and discussions, but it wasn't only him. The entire house had been waiting for our return. None seemed phased when their true master entered the doors to his home. For that reason, all of them had to have known what was about to transpire.
Aware of that, thinking carefully, I asked, "When did you put this here?"
"Last week." Goose didn't hesitate when he answered, meaning it was true.
I wasn't going to get answers, but I asked, "Why?"
He turned, gazing at me. I already had his answer. "You'll have to ask Gabriel."
Of course I do.
I considered getting snippy, feeling my temperature rise, but I let it go.
"If you say so," I said, striding for the cues placed neatly on the wall.
They were also things of glory, a mixture of McDermott and Meucci. I let my eyes do the shopping, choosing a stick with a jade inlay with ivory. As I pulled it free, I recalled the first time I'd met my Disco. He'd been different back then, sarcastic but curious. He'd confronted me, not backing down, facing me at my worst. The minute I got jive to what he was, I wanted him gone on sight and tried to tell him to fuck off.
That seemed so long ago.
I leaned the stick against the wall and went for one of three breaking cues placed on their own shelf. It didn't matter what the weight was. I'd played a long time with my stick and my stick alone. My Sneaky Pete had been cheap but remained reliable. I could scatter the balls with ease and play a game without extra weight at the end.
Then it clicked, a realization that would have gone by unnoticed if I hadn't been ready to partake in my favorite game.
Disco played Chess; I played pool.
Both required strategy.
"Do you want to know what I found?" Goose asked as he took a seat on a rotating stool. He swiped his hand over the top of the table next to him, inspecting the surface, and looked at his fingers. He seemed pleased by what he discovered, meaning there was no dust. Mr. Clean liked to be tidy. "I can give you the basics, but most of the information is complicated and tricky."
"Things usually are." I picked up the cue ball and placed it where I wanted it. Goose couldn't tell me squat about what was taking place in the house. His connection to Disco prevented any spillage of tea. I could listen to what he had to say, however, and nothing got me hot and bothered like pool. "Go ahead."
He started talking, going into what appeared to be a rehearsed speech about fallen angels, their deaths, and resurrections. I lined up my break and let memory guide my movements. The balls made contact, and a deafening crack vibrated through the area, ricocheted off the walls, and rang in my ears. Everyone would hear it. The felt ran fast and several balls found pockets, making noises of their own as they sank.
I closed my eyes, drifting back.
This is what I used to do.
This is what I enjoyed and missed.
I gazed around the table and found, like my lover, I could also see patterns. They weren't anything like what Disco would see, but they created pathways. I'd never put it together because the games seemed so different.
I always looked several balls ahead. A hustler had to.
It was the same as he did with chess pieces.
An image of Disco smoking a cigarette popped in my head.
He'd given them up for me, knowing I disliked them.
There was one thing I'd seen chess and pool players do.
Smoke.
Most had different brands. Some preferred reds while others wanted menthol. Many of the players even held their smokes differently. Some let the filter lay loose while others grasped the solid foundation between their index finger and thumb. But there was one thing that always remained the same. Each one inhaled the nicotine goodness. Afterward, they exhaled smoke from their bodies.
Both types of players were intelligent and tactical.
I'd get answers from Disco because I also knew how to play.
It was a different game, to be sure, but a game nonetheless.
Chapter Nine
"Knock, knock." I tapped my fingers against the wall and leaned into Disco's office. The door had been open when I approached, meaning he was taking visitors. "May I come in?"
His head lifted, and his shimmering aquamarine eyes shifted to me. When he noticed I'd put on one of his shirts, he absorbed the visual for several seconds. He tossed the folder on the desk and leaned back. My belly fluttered at the approval in his gaze. I had a hunch wearing something of his would be something he liked and instantly responded to.
"You may indeed," he answered, his gaze raking up and down my body. I inched from the wall, smiling at him. He rotated his chair so there was plenty of space and patted his leg to show me where he wanted me. "What have you been up to?"
He knew the answer to his query, and it wasn't because he could read my mind. Anyone with decent ears would detect pool balls knocking around and sinking into pockets. That's why bars had to apply for a noise permit if they had tables.
"Taking advantage of Goose's present."
"Not his," he said softly, a quiet admonishment. He yanked me into his lap when I was close. I settled against him immediately, assuming the role I'd fallen into while living on the boat. I rested my head against his chest, relaxing against him, and he said, "That is my present. He only picked it out."
I could play strategy and act like an idiot.
I'd always been adept at that.
Gabriel promised a long time ago he wouldn't read my mind without my permission, but things had changed since he'd made that vow. The minute I opened my eyes a few hours prior, a warm sensation cocooned me, telling me he'd kept our mental access cracked, making it clear he'd view or listen to anything I did if something out of the ordinary transpired. Since he'd posed a question, asking what I'd been doing, I didn't know if it was a trick question.
Fortune favors the bold.
"How did they know we were coming home?"
"I told you, all the answers—"
I bro
ught my hand up and rested my fingers over his mouth, silencing him. "Are there if I look for them. I know. I'm asking you to tell me."
His full lips pursed, kissing the fingers against them. He slid my hand into his, pulling my fingertips away from his mouth. I waited for him to respond. He didn't for several seconds.
"My plans went into motion a few months ago."
Wow, that long. "Including what happened last night?"
"Marius could have fled long ago. He chose to stay."
I felt stupid for not doing what he had told me to so damned long ago. He wouldn't have to tell me shit if I'd taken the time and did the research. He'd asked me to link with him fully, but I hadn't. There would be a bundle of shit I'd missed. Blame it on my suspicious nature, the part of me that thought things take care of themselves eventually, or my stupid fucking logic. With everything we had going on, like killing vampires and half-demons, diving into his head seemed overwhelming.
"I see."
"Eyes on me," he said, moving so his free hand notched under my chin. He pushed up with his knuckles and forced me to look at him. I wanted to avoid his gaze, angry and ashamed of myself, but had no choice. "I will always tell you anything important," he reiterated when our gazes met. He'd told me the same before. "I didn't talk to you about my plans because you were busy taking care of business with Bane. You had other things to concern yourself with." He drew me up, brushed his lips over mine, and pulled away. "Ethan told you what he found. What do you think?"
He'd changed the direction of the conversation.
He'd always been good at that.
"Angel business is rough stuff," I finally said. Despite his research, Goose had based his findings on his gut and not actual facts. Marigold Vesta had been hard to find in records when I'd indebted myself to her in the first place. "He has a lot of locations spread far and wide. I don't know where to start. We're going to be on a hell of a scavenger hunt."
