“On the tray I think.” Rose wiped at her cheeks and laughed at the mild panic on Gabriel’s face as he handed her a tissue. “It’s okay. Happy tears.”
He cleared his throat. “All our phone numbers are in there.”
"That’s good." She settled against him again and thrilled at the sound of his heartbeat, slow and steady beneath her ear. If they were truly bonded as Mephisto had said, that meant she had a future. What did being bonded mean, anyway? Was it a demon thing, or a Fae thing?
If they were bonded, could the two of them, wounded as they were, have a good life?
"Stop thinking. Start resting," he ordered.
"See if you can get me out of here, and I'll rest," she promised.
He sighed then, folded her against him and rocked her. "Just give me a moment, here. Just a moment."
Maybe she should take Mephisto's advice after all and just allow herself to fall in love with him. He cared, she knew that much. She could feel the care and concern pouring out of him, wrapping her as closely as his arms held her.
Gabriel's heart thudded against her cheek, a comforting sound. After a few minutes of silence, he sighed and shifted to look into her eyes. "When we leave here, I’ll be taking you to the old homestead like we planned."
"The place you grew up?" Rose brightened at the thought. "I am glad."
"My mother used to plant these wonderful gardens, or so I'm told. Gideon tried to keep them alive but only managed in the orchard, and what he called the secret garden. I'll show it to you," he added. "If you'll agree to rest while you’re there.”
"I’ll rest if you’re nearby." She stirred, brushing the hair out of his face. She placed her hand on his scarred cheek. "Thank you. For everything. I'm glad you're here."
She saw the pain in his eyes as he moved her hand from his face and kissed her palm. "I know," he said, and drew her close again. "I'm glad to be here. But Rose," and he hesitated.
She shook her head, not wanting to hear it. "Gabriel. Let's just enjoy, okay? We need the physical connection right now, and there’s a lot to do before we get to the future. So let's don't worry about it. I'm a big girl. Now, tell me what I looked like, when I was all demony."
He kissed the top of her head and cleared his throat. "You have wings."
"I do not." Delighted, she pushed away to look him in the eyes. "I can fly?"
"Nah. They're just little girly wings. And a couple of cute horns, too. And you've got sexy spots all over. Kind of like a leopard, only orangey and brownish."
Her eyes alight, she grinned. "Really? Do tell."
Gabriel spun a tale of her demon self that kept her laughing until her sides ached. She watched him with a smile in her heart. According to Mephisto, she and Gabriel made a good match. It remained to be seen if their match was strong enough to defeat Satine.
Chapter Fifteen
Rose watched with wide eyes as the gate opened silently. Hedges on both sides turned the long driveway into an escape from the neighborhood around them.
The car followed the curve until the hedges dropped away and revealed a two-story yellow and white ranch house. To Rose’s family-starved eyes, it looked like a home, with a wide front porch, windows open to the summer breeze, white curtains billowing. Two buildings winged out from the center of the house, giving it a sprawling, welcoming look. Elm trees planted nearby provided shade. Gabriel pulled up and parked next to a perfectly kept Mustang in a bright blue. Gabriel grunted.
“A ’68 Mustang. Must be Kellan’s.”
Gabriel had pulled away from her, gotten distant the minute they'd left the hospital. The drive out had been quiet and Rose hadn't known how to make things easy again between them. Now though, the house consumed her thoughts.
"Oh, Gabriel." Rose put her hand on his arm, squeezed. "It's beautiful."
Gabriel looked at the unraked leaves, the peeling paint. "It has been. Kellan is waiting for us. Come on." They got out and Rose was hit with the scent of orange blossom. She felt the grin take over her face.
"Orange trees?"
"There's a citrus grove out back, a part of the original parcel of land. The whole San Fernando Valley used to be citrus groves and farms, way back when. My mother redesigned parts of the land long before I was born." Gabriel shrugged. "I think we have photos of the place before she got her hands on it, but I'm not sure."
Rose approached the front door with curiosity. This, then, is where the Caine matriarch reigned over her tribe. This is where she gave birth to Gabriel, and where she died. What of Maria Therese still lingered in this house?
As she crossed the threshold, she felt a warmth, a welcome, as though a loving spirit inhabited the house. Not that she believed Maria Therese herself was here. Rather, it was a house that had seen much love and harbored the expectation of more love and laughter, to come.
She turned to Gabriel, slipped her hand in his. "Gorgeous. Hardwood floors, hand painted borders—how long has this house been in your family?"
"The original burned down. This house was built in the nineteen twenties on the bones of the first one, and expanded through the years." He squeezed her hand, let her go and shoved both his hands into his pockets. "Justin would know more details. Caines have owned the land for a couple hundred years, if not longer. It's the largest parcel still left in the west Valley."
"Hey guys. Come on out and give me a hand," called Kellan.
"It sounds like Kel’s in the back. After you," he said.
Rose found her way to the back door through the cheerful kitchen, fascinated with the painted vines and flowers that bordered the top of the wall. "Who did all the paint work? It's beautiful."
"I'm not sure. I'd forgotten about it," he added. “You know how you live with something and then just stop seeing it?” He shrugged. “It’s like that for me, all the hand paint work.” He opened the back door. “Come on.”
A brick patio spread out in front of them with a patch of straggly grass beyond it. Further back sat the citrus grove, easily fifty trees filling the space between the patio and what looked like guesthouses or barns at the back of the property. "This is gorgeous." Rose turned in a circle, caught her balance. "Absolutely gorgeous."
"It needs work. That part never seems to change." Kellan came toward them. Rose stifled a giggle. Straw hat, plaid shirt, battered jeans and work boots all turned him into a farm hand.
"You gonna plant the crops, Farmer Brown?" she said, letting loose her giggle.
Kellan grinned back. "Nope. And there aren't any cows to milk, either, but I do have livestock. Come see."
They followed him to one of the outbuildings. What had looked like a barn turned out to be a large, two-story storage shed crammed with boxes and furniture. Kellan led them to a corner where, burrowed into a covered couch, was a mama cat and her three scrawny babies.
"Oh! Oh, the poor thing," cooed Rose. She knelt beside the mama and let the cat sniff her hand. It gave her a weak lick and put her head down again.
"It needs food. And water. We should move them, too." Rose turned to the men with a hopeful smile. "Don't you think?"
“Ah, maybe not,” Gabriel said. Rose wilted in disappointment.
"I've already made an appointment with a local vet."
"They're probably hopping with fleas." Gabriel kept well back from the cat and her kits. "I hate flea bites."
"One year, we had four dogs and Gideon didn't keep up on the flea stuff. Gabriel's dog had them worst and he was covered in the things. Had to have allergy shots because of it," Kellan confided to Rose.
"Kel," warned Gabriel.
"Which is why they can't come into the house until they've been de-fleaed," he continued.
Rose touched the kittens, played with their paws. "Look. Look! They have six toes! Can you imagine? These are magic cats!"
"Come on, Rose. Kellan has the cats handled, and you promised me you'd rest."
Reluctantly, Rose let Gabriel draw her away from the cats and back through the yard to the house.
Kellan walked on her other side, putting a hand out as she swayed with tiredness. "I've got the perfect room for you," he said. He grinned at Gabriel. "Our room. It's perfect for her. Don't ask—you'll see."
They walked into the kitchen and Gabriel automatically took the back stairway to the second floor. Their room sat right at the top of the stairs.
Kellan ushered Rose into the room and gestured to the ceiling. "Look familiar?"
Rose stared. "It's a spiral. Oh! Beautiful." The words were written in English, the lettering a gothic style, the colors in soothing shades of blue and gray. "What does it say?"
"Lie on the bed and see if you can figure it out," he said.
Rose lay down and looked up. "So beautiful," she murmured, and yawned. "This is such a peaceful house." She relaxed into the mattress as sleep swept over her.
* * *
Gabriel closed the door to the bedroom and turned to Kellan. "Do you realize what that is?"
"Yeah. A sleep spell, or something. I told you I had the best night of sleep ever last night. Aunt Maria must have painted it. It still works. Neat, huh?"
He looked at his cousin thoughtfully. "This was the room you and I shared, until you left."
"Yeah." Kellan met Gabriel's eyes. "She painted it for you. For us, really, because I'd shown up on the scene before you were born, but she'd always planned for us to share."
"Do all the bedrooms have spirals on them?"
"Not just the bedrooms. They're everywhere."
Gabriel frowned. "I don't remember any spirals growing up."
"Neither do I, but that doesn't mean they weren't just there," said Kellan. "What we need is a witch. And before you say anything, I've already called Justin and Maggie. They should be here soon. But I will say, I don't think it's a coincidence that Rose has a spiral on her belly."
"So what do we do until the witch gets here?" Gabriel stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels.
“There's lots of work to be done outdoors. I've got garden gloves and trash bags ready on the back porch. Or, there's wood to chop. Should burn well after all the drying time it's had. If you're not above doing manual labor."
"After you, buddy. After you."
* * *
"You're gonna have to put your anger on hold, Magdalena. Tell me everything you know about Kendall Sorbis, and tell me right now." Justin downshifted as traffic slowed. He scowled at the witch in the seat next to him. She'd worn a jumpsuit of army green with a zipper down the middle, the rip-stop fabric outlining every part of her body. Justin did his best not to look.
"I don't have to tell you anything." Maggie's voice was like ice.
"Let me put it this way. The Weres said Kendall has opened a portal to the Chaos Plane. Maybe more than one portal, and is enticing demons this way. Do you really want to work for someone like that?"
He waited while she thought, trying not to breathe in her spicy scent. He sent his window down for a blast of hot air.
"I don't work for him. We used to be lovers, but that was years ago. I got thoroughly burned." Her words were quiet and edged with pain. "I picked up the phone in his office because I was there as a favor to his wife. Looking for any sign of his whereabouts. He's run off," she added. "He left his bride of two years high and dry."
Justin narrowed his eyes. "Why did you tell me he was on his anniversary trip?"
“Because that’s what I was told to tell anyone who inquired.”
"Any ideas about why he ran off?" Justin glanced at her. She'd bitten her bottom lip and her eyes were squeezed shut.
"He was wanted for questioning about a murder, but when the cops came to his door a couple of days ago, he'd already split. His young wife found a note protesting his innocence. He's apparently searching for the real murderer."
"What do you think?"
"He's capable of it." The words were cool and without malice. "He's got a curiosity gene a mile wide. He likes to…experiment. Death—causing it, or seeing it—never bothered him."
"Some lover.”
"Like you said. We all make mistakes. Such as the multitude of mistakes you've made recently."
"I still don't understand why you're pissed off." He bit the words off without looking at her.
"Rose disappeared from my house. I’m frantic with worry about her, but you don’t respond to my phone calls. I call the office and you don’t even have an assistant to tell me what’s going on. Damn it all to hell, Justin. You left me in charge of Rose’s safety, and then you don’t tell me what happened to her. That, plus everything else that happened in the past twenty four hours that you just now told me about, gives me every reason to be angry. You ass." The look she flashed at him made Justin grateful she didn't turn him into one.
"I called you eventually," he pointed out, and winced when she let out a short scream of frustration. He heard her quick breathing, her struggle for control. When she finally spoke, her voice was tight.
"Justin, I know I'm not a Caine. I understand we have a hate/hate relationship. But I'm getting close to Rose and consider her a friend. I've been a part of this case almost since the beginning, and you're shutting me out. How would you feel if the shoe were on the other foot?" she demanded.
"Okay. I see your point. But it's not like we had time to give you a jingle. 'Hey Maggie, yeah, come on over, we're having a bar fight.' Be reasonable," he added.
"When you got home last night, you could have called. When you were at the hospital, you could have called. I would have called you," she said, and turned to face the side window. "In fact, I did call you. And boy was that a mistake.”
"Look." Justin shifted gears, exiting the freeway at Victory Boulevard going west, and continued. "I'm sorry, okay? It's not that I thought you couldn't handle what was happening. It's just that everything happened so fast."
"Yeah, pull my other leg," she scoffed.
Justin grimly kept his thoughts off her legs and her other luscious body parts. "I was trying to keep you safe," he bit out.
"And that made you happy," she shot back. "Obviously, since you're just bubbling over with joy."
"What does my being happy have to do with anything?" he said, bewildered.
She tossed her hands up in the air, barely missing his face, and looked away. "Apparently nothing, since you were so unhappy about having to see me again."
"Oh, I get it. You're angry that I kissed you." Justin grinned. "Now it makes sense."
"What? That's not why I'm angry," she grumbled, and crossed her arms.
"Oh, that's right. You're not angry that I kissed you. You're angry that you kissed me back. Don't pout. It's not attractive," he advised and turned the car into the drive. The gates stood open, so he eased the Jag down the long drive.
"I'm not pouting. I'm thinking up ways to torture you slowly before I kill you."
Justin laughed. "Good luck with that." He pulled the car to a stop in front of the house. "We're here." He got out of the car and leaned against the hood, just looking at the place and remembering.
He heard Maggie get out and slam the door behind her. Justin turned to look at her and caught his breath again at her profile. She was too damned sexy for his peace of mind.
She wavered a little, put a hand out to steady herself against the car. Her eyes were glassy. Concerned, Justin moved to stand in front of her, breaking her view of the house. "Maggie? You okay?"
Maggie blinked, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "Justin."
"Hey." He wiped the tear away. "It's okay. The house hits some people like that." He leaned against the car next to her, studying the house that had been his home, giving her time to pull herself together.
"I used to come here on the anniversary of her death. After, I mean. After Dad left and we closed up the house." He sighed. "It always caught at me. The house looked like it was waiting. And I wasn't what it was waiting for."
She turned to face him, their bodies mere inches apart. "That must have hurt."
"Yeah.
" He shot her a crooked grin. ""Yeah, it did. But the inside—you've got to see the inside." He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the front door. "It's the best."
The door stood open. As they stepped inside, a hint of incense seemed to welcome them.
Maggie looked around, her eyes wide. "Spells are everywhere. Did you ever notice? Everywhere I look, I see a spell of one sort or another. It's absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful."
"This way. This was my favorite room." Justin tugged her over to the hearth room, a huge room anchored by a fireplace at one end and three large windows to the front of the house.
The fireplace was big, in keeping with the rest of the room, clad in river rock with a black slate hearth and a thick, wide mantel of black oak polished to a shine.
Over it was painted a tree, rich in detail, thick with leaves. It looked alive, and for a moment Justin could swear he heard the rustle of the leaves in the summer breeze.
Maggie stepped closer to Justin. "This is amazing, absolutely amazing. Did those leaves just move?" She left his side to step up on the hearth and look at the painting.
Justin shook his shoulders and took a breath. "Maggie." She turned to look at him, and their eyes locked. Energy rose between them, hung in the air.
"Hi guys. Maggie, we need a witch. Come upstairs—there are a couple spirals I want you to look at."
Justin didn't know if he should hit Kellan or hug him. He turned from Maggie in relief.
"Kellan. The whole house has spells painted in it. Maybe we shouldn't be here. I'm not getting an overly friendly vibe from it."
"I know. It's waiting. Since Gabriel's back for a while at least, and I'll be in and out for a few months, we decided it was time to open the place up. But it's not like we're going to paint over anything. We need your opinion, your expertise. And your decoding abilities," he added. "Come on."
Maggie sent Justin a hot look before following Kellan upstairs. "The spells I've seen so far have been simple ones. Spells of love, faith in family, and protection, mostly."
"Why are they here?" The three of them stopped on the landing, with the two men looking to Maggie.
Demon Soul Page 17
