by May, W. J.
No more ‘Mr. Mallins.’ She decided it somewhere between the bank and the bunny.
He took a deliberate sip of his own drink before setting it thoughtfully down. “We’re here, Miss Kerrigan, because like I said, I represent my constituents. And for whatever reason, my constituents have elected to offer you and your friends another chance of employment within the Privy Council. We are here because I’m doing everything in my power to try to understand any possible reasoning behind that decision.”
The hair on the back of Rae’s neck stood on end as her eyes narrowed. “First of all let’s just drop the whole ‘and my friends’ gimmick. We both know you’re talking about me and me alone.”
“If it suits you.” Victor shrugged carelessly. “For reasons beyond comprehension you have inspired a deep loyalty in the Privy Council’s newest and finest. You can try to separate yourself in conversation all you wish, but you and I both know that the four of you come as a package deal. To talk about them is to talk about you. And vice versa.”
“And you don’t think I’m a worthy asset?”
“I think you live up to your name, Miss Kerrigan.”
Little blue sparks danced at the tips of Rae’s fingers and she was quick to hide them under the table. She would not let Victor see how much he—and this place—were rattling her.
He noticed anyway, taking it all in with bland interest as the plates of steaming rabbit were set in front of them. “Do you know why Guilder was established in the first place, Miss Kerrigan?” he asked, cutting off a slice of meat with a sudden flash of his knife.
Rae’s eyes followed the movements as she hastened to recall her history. “Henry VIII knew about people with abilities, and established a safe place for them in the hopes that one of them could help him procure a son.”
“That’s right,” Victor agreed, chewing slowly. “In fact, one could say that Guilder was a school set up for sons.” He let the heavy implication hang in the air between them before moving on. “But that’s the public reason for establishing the school. I’m talking about the practical reason.”
The practical reason? Rae blanked.
Victor nodded to himself as he speared a carrot.
“The practical reason was so that when young people around the world turned sixteen and were gifted with unspeakable power they would have a safe place to learn how to use it. A place with instructors. A place with safety nets and boundaries. Somewhere they could test the limits of their gifts without fear of reprisal for themselves or anyone around them. It is a sacred privilege to teach there. An ancient responsibility to guard its gates and secrets.” He took a swig of tea and stared at her carefully. “Tell me, Miss Kerrigan, can you think of anyone you and I both know who stands as a constant threat to all that?”
It took Rae a second to understand. Then she stared at him in shock. “Me?” she asked in astonishment. “You think I’m a threat to Guilder?”
Victor’s face turned grim. “I think you bring dark things with you wherever you go. When you enter the sacred gates of Guilder, I think you bring them with you there.”
Rae pushed back her plate in a rage. “I’ve done nothing, nothing but protect the students and secrets of Guilder since they were made aware to me. Protect them from dark things that you and your ancient, all-powerful association let slip inside undetected.”
“Ah, yes, so you’re talking about—”
“Lanford, Kraigan, Jennifer Jones. All people who not only infiltrated the population of Guilder, but you geniuses opened the gates and literally welcomed them inside.”
“All people who were drawn there, because they were targeting you.”
Rae slapped the table so hard some of her tea spilled. “All people who were drawn there because they were working for Jonathon Cromfield!”
Victor stared back at her calmly. “Who was also drawn to Guilder because he was targeting you.”
Rae was so angry she was beginning to feel light-headed. She sucked in quick, silent gasps of air, but still she felt no relief. Was there no oxygen in this place? Were the air conditioning vents so strong they were literally sucking the life right out of it? “Are you…” She tried to find the words. “Are you blaming me for being a target?”
“Not at all,” Victor said calmly, taking another bite. “I’m simply asking that you acknowledge you are one—and as such—let me ask you: Do you really want to place that same target on the backs of those people around you?”
She shook her head quickly back and forth, eyes darting almost subconsciously to the exits as she craved an end to this meeting. “Considering that your people voted to have me come back, you sure are doing a great job of trying to talk me out of it.”
“I’m merely posing a question, Miss Kerrigan.” He set down his fork and knife and leaned across the table so they were very close. Too close. She felt as though she could get lost forever in those cold, endless eyes. “If danger follows you wherever you go… why would you bring that danger here? To the place you call home? To the people you say you love?”
Before she realized what was happening, two silent tears slipped down her face. Victor calmly extended a handkerchief whilst simultaneously turning to Billy, who had just arrived.
“Splendid, Billy. I’d like to place an order for two plates of tiramisu.”
* * *
Rae walked home slowly from the restaurant, clutching her takeout box of tiramisu. Victor had insisted she take it with her, and she had insisted that she walk. They’d both compromised, and went their separate ways at the door; one climbing back into his town car, the other making her way mournfully down the streets of London on foot, holding a box of fine Italian dessert.
When Victor had shown up at her door late that morning, she could honestly say that she wasn’t worried for a single moment as to whether or not he could get to her. She was right, he was wrong. He was the bad guy, she was something else entirely. She didn’t think his words could sting because she didn’t think there was anything to them besides empty intimidation.
She could not have been more wrong.
The sun beat down on her bare shoulders as she trudged down the busy sidewalks, bumping into people now and then as she did.
When he phrased it like that… Not placing blame but simply recognizing a problem…
Wasn’t he at least a little bit right?
She may not be dangerous but the people constantly coming after her were. Did it not then stand to reason that if she remained too close to any place or person in particular, that those precious things would also be at risk?
The most infuriating part of his argument was that it was the same internal battle she’d been having ever since Lanford locked her in that dungeon all those years ago. It was the same ledge that Devon and even Molly and Julian had to talk her down from time and time again.
But they were being loyal, and brave, and kind.
They weren’t necessarily being smart.
Because of their association with her each one had suffered in turn. Beth had been banished to France and brainwashed. Julian had been mentally and physically assaulted more times than she could count—the most recent being Cromfield literally forcing his way inside Julian’s head. Molly had been thrown into cars, dragged in circles around the globe, and held hostage with a gun to her head. Luke had been knocked into a coma. Gabriel had almost been killed. And Devon?
Devon had been kidnapped, tortured, beaten, bruised—anything and everything you could imagine. He had endured it all, for her. But perhaps the worst thing to happen to Devon was something none of them ever saw coming.
Hope.
A stubborn, damnable hope that he and Rae could have a normal life together. That if he could just pull them through all the darkness fate had thrown their way there was a light waiting for them there at the end.
That was the biggest hurt of all. Because there was no hope. Not when the man who was chasing her was immortal. Not when she was immortal herself.
She walk
ed around the lovely little park that separated her house from Devon’s several times, wondering on every pass if she should ring the front door and go inside. She could actually see Julian through the window—hair up in a ponytail, drinking a beer—as he slowly unloaded a trunk full of boxes. Devon’s car was in the driveway as well. And again she was tempted.
It would be so easy.
She would just walk inside and tell both of them exactly what had happened. They would be appalled. They would be enraged. They would call Molly so that she could come and be appalled and enraged too. They would tear Victor to shreds. Trash his argument. Trash his character. They would never, for a single second, acknowledge that anything he said might be true. And they would never, for a single second, even consider taking his advice and keeping their distance.
She would be cheered. She would be comforted. And the whole thing would be forgotten.
Yes, it would be very easy.
But…it wouldn’t exactly be true.
She walked past one more time before finally giving up and heading home. Her eyes swam with a hundred forbidden tears as she marched dejectedly into her lobby, past the over-enthusiastic attendant—Raphael—who glanced up from his phone with a look of concern. He leapt immediately from his chair but she merely held up a hand and headed straight towards the elevator.
She didn’t have the strength to comfort him right now. Not when she felt like she was falling apart at the seams.
The elevator shot her to the top floor and she climbed out wearily, dragging her feet as she dropped her purse to the ground with a thud.
At least no one is here, she thought miserably. She’d have until Devon showed up at dinner to wallow in her grief.
She was about to kick off her heels and do exactly that when she suddenly realized that the shower was running. It was coming from her bathroom, not Molly’s, and she ghosted lightly down the hall to investigate.
The second she heard the sound, she had to admit a part of her was relieved. Smart as it may be, she didn’t want to think about what Victor said another moment. She wanted to be comforted by her friends, held by her boyfriend. She wanted to close her eyes and have everything be okay.
Even if it really wasn’t…
“What did you do,” she pushed open the door with a grin, preparing to strip down and join her boyfriend for round two, “spill more orange juice?”
Then the man in the shower turned around.
A man who was certainly not Devon.
She dropped her tiramisu on the floor.
“What gives, Kerrigan?” Gabriel said with a grin. “Can’t you knock?”
Chapter 11
“Gabriel! What-the-hell-are-you-doing-here!”
Rae was in such a state that all the words strung themselves together. She didn’t know where to look or where not to look. Her eyes shot down to her dessert—puddling on the floor, to the steam—billowing down from over the open glass doors, and finally to her own petrified expression in the mirror—pale and teary-eyed.
There was a shift of movement in the corner of her eye, and all at once Gabriel was standing right in front of her. Dripping wet. Unapologetically naked.
She snapped her eyes shut with a stifled profanity.
“Since you seem exceptionally unobservant today, I’ll tell you,” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m taking a shower.”
He leaned in even closer as she froze on the spot, her mind reeling as she tried to think of how to make the most graceful escape. However, simply too many things had happened since she got up this morning. Her emotionally whiplashed brain couldn’t seem to settle on a single thing except: freeze.
The heat and moisture from his body soaked through her thin shirt, and in addition to closing her eyes she covered them with a hand. “And is there a reason you had to leave your hotel to come and take a shower here?” she demanded, groping the air behind her for the door.
“I was lonely. Figured I’d come over and say hi.”
“You were lonely,” she repeated through gritted teeth. She eventually gave up on finding the door handle and simply stepped blindly in the general direction. “Well let me tell you—”
But in her haste to escape she had forgotten one critical thing. The tiramisu.
As one foot landed squarely on top of it at the same time the other slid out from under her completely. She fell towards the slippery ground with a stifled shriek. Except she never got there.
Two strong, wet arms caught her instead.
“Gabriel!” she shouted, finally opening her eyes.
By now the steam and splashing of the shower had completely soaked through her clothes and hair—a condition that wasn’t helped much seeing as how he was holding her against his naked body.
He grinned down at her, still holding her down in a dip. Little drops of water flew off the tips of his hair and landed in hers as his green eyes sparkled with mischief. “What? Did you want me to let you fall? Not very gentlemanly…”
“You’re naked!” she cried, trying and failing to pull away.
“You’re clumsy,” he fired back, shaking his head with a sympathetic smile. “We all have our crosses to bear.”
“Oh, I know exactly how you meant that! Please! Get off of me!”
“Fine.” Without any kind of ceremony he dropped her where she stood.
That would have been all well and good had she been standing, but as things were she fell straight down atop the smeared chocolate-coffee monstrosity that had become her nightmare.
“Oh…” Gabriel winced as she lay there not moving, not bothering to get up. “Okay, truth? I honestly forgot about that when I let you go.”
She still didn’t move. She just lay there, covering her face with her hands as the weight of the day came crashing down upon her.
“Rae? Honey?” he tried again. There was the sound of splashing water as he knelt down beside her. “I’m sorry about your dessert. And your clothes. You’re not…you’re not paralyzed or in shock or something, are you?”
A pair of warm fingers pinched her leg, and she flinched.
“Nope, not paralyzed.” More splashing and shifting. “Uh, you want to get up now? Or…at least give me some clue as to what’s going on? I said I was sor—”
He stopped short as she sat bolt upright, tears streaming freely down her face.
“Shit, Rae! Are you hurt or—”
Her hands scrunched up into angry little fists and she literally pounded the tiles beside them in a helpless, kitten sort of rage.
“Why do you…just…have to ruin everything!?”
Then she lost it. Completely lost it. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried so hard. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t do anything except just sit there, bury her face in her hands, and wait for it all to be done.
After a couple of minutes Gabriel seemed to realize that this couldn’t possibly be entirely about him. He turned down the water to the bath setting, wrapped his waist in a towel, and lifted her slowly to sit on the edge of the tub. She kinda missed getting a better glimpse of his bare, muscular bottom.
Then without further ado, he grabbed a washcloth and began gently wiping the bits of chocolate and coffee from her ruined shirt. She didn’t even realize what he was doing until he’d finished with the shirt and moved on to her foot. She was crying that hard.
“What—” she pulled away with another broken sob, “what are you doing?”
He smiled softly and took it back in his hand, gently rubbing it clean. “One day, Rae Kerrigan, I’m going to show you the proper way to eat an Italian dessert.”
She laughed breathlessly, wiping tears from her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just fall apart on—”
“Don’t be,” he interrupted quietly. “I get it. You’re going through a lot right now.” His eyes traced her face with kind sympathy. “You want to talk about it?”
Her breath caught in her chest and she shook head quickly back
and forth, more tears spilling down her neck.
“Okay,” he said quickly, squeezing her foot before he placed it back in the warm water. As the tub reached critical mass, he flicked off the water and perched on the edge beside her, dangling his legs in the water beside hers. “You want to just sit here a while?”
More tears fell as she bit her lip and nodded.
“Okay,” he murmured again, placing a hesitant arm around her back. “We can just sit here then. We can sit here as long as you like…”
They sat a very long while. Long enough for the hot water to turn cold. After about five minutes or so of constant quiet sobbing, Rae had given up all pretenses and had laid her head on his bare chest. He’d complied instantly, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her gently onto his lap so he could hold her more securely. After six minutes she’d even forgotten that all he was wearing was a thin towel.
After a while, though, the tears subsided and the freezing water was enough to start Rae shivering. Without saying a word Gabriel reached down to pull the drain on the tub before twisting behind himself to grab her another towel.
“Thanks,” she murmured, wrapping it around both shoulders. In hindsight, she had no idea why she’d spent the last who-knows-how-long dangling her legs in a bathtub when she was still wearing white skinny jeans.
She looked down in dismay, and Gabriel chuckled softly. “You can take them off,” he turned immediately to face the other way, “I won’t look.” She froze uncertainly, and he chuckled again. “Come on, Rae, you’ve got to be cold.”
She was cold. And still dripping wet.
As quickly as she could, she stripped off the soaking jeans and threw them in a pile in the corner. Her shirt landed on top. Only then, once she was securely in a towel of her own, did she clear her throat awkwardly.
“Okay, I’m…um…I’m dressed. Ish.”
Gabriel turned around with a twinkle in his eyes. “Beautiful.”
She blushed and sighed all at once. “Why do you always do that?”
