Roman tried not to think of what he might do. He tried not to think about the fact that he could have done it many times so far and still hadn’t. It was confusing. What was Maze playing at?
He knew Victor was out for revenge. Bantariax had held him prisoner for so long, and now that Victor was free, he no doubt wanted retribution. The best way to exact punishment on someone you hated was to destroy something that person loved. For Bantariax, there was nothing more precious than Katrielle and their daughter, Evangeline. But Evangeline was the Dragon Queen, ripe with draconic power and the protection of an entire hideously powerful dragon kingdom. She was never alone, and Victor had not yet shown any interest in Evangeline.
In Katrielle on the other hand, he’d shown plenty. To date, he’d managed to reach her one way or another more than a dozen times without any of Katrielle’s protectors being able to stop him. He’d first approached her on the sidewalk in front of a jewelry store. She’d stopped to rest, and he had come upon her as if he’d simply been out for a stroll. She hadn’t known who he was, thinking him a stranger. Victor did not tell her, either. He complimented her, flirted with her, gave her just enough of a hint to figure out who he was, and then he left by limousine and driver just as she was realizing his identity. Later, as she shared this experience with her friends, she described him as tall, poised, handsome, and imposing.
His following meetings with her were always similar and entirely frustrating for those who wished to protect her. Always, he was cool and unruffled. Always, he was in complete control. Not once did he outwardly threaten or even touch her. But he came to her. He spoke with her. He made innuendos, softly and expertly. He left her notes or gifts. He seemed to slip right past all her defenses, magical and otherwise. Her powerful wards, her powerful guardians’ wards, and those guardians themselves – he bypassed every one, doing so with such dignified composure it was clear he was toying with her.
Now Roman noticed a slight darkness beneath Kat’s eyes. His gaze slid to her hands. They were indeed trembling. It was perhaps the first time he’d ever seen any sign of human-like weariness on the ancient Nomad. And it occurred to him, perhaps this was Victor’s revenge. Perhaps he meant to tear Katrielle apart where it would hurt the most, in the sanctity of her mind.
Roman looked back up, catching her eyes. “Kat… how are you feeling?”
Kat watched him for a while, her expression unchanging. But she said, “I’m trying not to feel, Roman. It’s too painful to feel.”
Ah, he thought. Victor Maze was indeed winning this round.
Kat continued, changing the subject with a wave of her hand. “Which is why I need you to cooperate with me right now. Take what is in that file immediately and see that it falls into the right hands.” She turned to leave his office by its door rather than the way she usually left his company, which was by transport spell. Normally accompanied by some kind of flashy blast and the scent of lavender.
Once at the door, she stopped, the handle in her grip. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “Right now, it’s all about Angela Clemens, Roman. This is devastatingly important. Love is a powerful weapon. It’s a strong bond, holding things together in the face of forces that would otherwise rip them to shreds.”
Roman digested that, recognizing that she was not only speaking of whatever was in this folder, but of Victor Maze.
“If I can’t fight with that particular weapon,” she continued softly, “hopefully someone else can. And help us even the odds just a little.”
She left his office, and Roman was alone with his thoughts.
Chapter Fifteen
The Gasoline was relatively quiet at the moment, which meant no one was fighting. Angel almost regretted that. The truth was, she felt obsessed. And nothing took her mind off her obsession like a good fight.
“This way.” Gabe took her by the arm and led her to an empty table in the corner of the bar. It was strange, but that table always seemed to be empty when Angel came here with Gabe and their warden friends.
Gabriel nodded at the bartender as they passed by, and the bartender nodded back, turning to the rack of liquor and glasses behind him to prepare their drinks. Angel tried not to be impressed. Bartenders had really good memories. So did baristas. She would always be impressed with how they managed to remember what people ordered. Or maybe she just drank way too much coffee.
“Sit,” ordered Gabriel amicably. She obeyed, smiling softly.
Gabriel sat across from her. Neither of them removed their jackets; wardens often didn’t. A warden’s jacket normally contained crucial things like cards, money, medicine and even small weapons, but more importantly it concealed the guns they wore in holsters at their backs.
No sooner had they taken their seats than the server was beside the table placing different beers on coasters in front of them. Angel smiled. The bartender had gotten it right. Gabriel’s drink was a DuckRabbit stout from the tap, and hers was an Irish red ale. Hers was still in the bottle, the way she liked it. Better yet, the bottle was very, very cold; miniscule ice crystals hugged the glass. Perfect.
“Thank you,” she told the waiter. Then she leaned forward to wave at the bartender. He grinned and winked at her before returning to his job.
When the waiter left, she and Gabe peered around the room, looking for clues. This was something they always did before accepting opened drinks in a public venue. It was unconscious at this juncture, they’d been doing it for so long. When they didn’t notice anyone behaving in a give-away manner, they turned back to each other and lifted their respective drinks for a toast.
“To the wardens going out of business.”
That, too, was something they always did. And that was their usual toast. A world without the need for police, whether in the mortal realm or otherwise, was something every peace keeper should strive for. And if that wasn’t their goal, then they were in the wrong business.
Angel placed the bottle to her lips, took a big swig, and almost groaned with pleasure. It went down so easy, she continued to drink, emptying half the container before she replaced the bottle in front of her.
When she looked up, Gabe was watching her, an amused glint in his eyes. “Either you dread my company, or you already needed that even more than I thought.”
She laughed. She definitely didn’t hate his company… though sometimes she was admittedly uncomfortable with it. For two reasons.
One, he was Gabriel – a tall, built, strong, fast, fresh from the fight good guy. He was the whole shebang. The entire package. She didn’t hate his company; she was just not indifferent to it, and sometimes that was the problem.
She pulled her eyes away from his and tried to think of something to talk about. Anything to keep him from seeing through her. She found herself looking at his beer. DuckRabbit. Ducks and rabbits combined. She laughed a little. “You drink like a wolf,” she told him, nodding to the beer. “It’s like you got your hunting and your boozing in with one go.”
She turned her smile on him, and his vibrant eyes lit up. He joined her in laughter. “Good thing you like wolves.”
That was true. She’d always been fond of wolves. The natural ones. The ones that were endangered because people were stupid.
That thought sobered her again, and she forced a few more swigs down her throat. Now was not the time to dwell on depressing matters. It would only make her more vulnerable – and that wasn’t good. Because the second thing that made her uncomfortable about Gabe’s presence was that he was a little too perceptive for her liking.
Right now, she was falling for someone she wasn’t allowed to fall for, a warden from a different clan. And if she wasn’t really diligent, then before the night was out Gabe was going to see right through her. The shit would hit the fan.
It had only been a few days since the Vicium case closed, and clearly this was only the beginning with Victor Maze. Everyone was on eggshells where he was concerned. No one knew what his game plan was. In the meantime, warden jobs were po
pping up left and right like going rogue was the latest fad for supernaturals. Angel also hadn’t been sleeping well. She’d had dreams. They were troubling. And then there was Jacob Crow.
It had been one lousy day, and she already felt starved for Jake’s company. The few short minutes he’d mysteriously spent at the coffee shop with her and her friends had only whet her appetite all the more, making her feel like he was some kind of dealer supplying her with just the right amount of drugs to keep her addicted.
The entire two weeks they’d worked together, his presence had all but shoved her to the deep end of the pool. Every time he came near her, which was quite often, she felt hot. Not unpleasantly hot, just too warm, a little too unsteady. When he accidentally touched her or brushed up against her, which was also quite often, she would inevitably flush, and there was always a kind of electricity.
Whenever she chanced a glance up at him to see if he noticed it or was feeling the same thing, she found he was already watching her. Every time. And she would get caught in the jade sea of his gaze and feel hopelessly lost.
When she took time to consider her reaction to Jake, she realized it made little sense. She didn’t really know anything about him. She hadn’t even had a chance to ask anything about him, much less do research on him. Which would have been rude, anyway. The case the five wardens were tasked with was brutally difficult, requiring help from other wardens as well. In the end, they were professionals on a kind of deadline, and nothing personal got in the way of their work.
But damn. Everything about the man was captivating. There was a chance she was actually smitten. She even thought about calling him. She hated calling people. She hated talking on the phone! But she wanted to hear his voice…. What’s more, she seriously wished he would call her. Or even text her. Just one small text. Just to say “hi.”
“Checking for anything in particular?”
Angel’s head snapped up. She realized she’d been looking down at her phone where it rested in her lap beneath the table. She’d been unconsciously going through her messages. Her cheeks flushed. “What?” she asked stupidly.
Gabe smirked, his light amber eyes flashing. “That’s the third time you’ve looked at your phone since we came in.” His beer was gone, and so was hers. The server appeared just then with two brand new ones.
“Can I get you two anything else? Something from the menu?” he asked.
Angel wasn’t particularly hungry. She knew she should eat, but she was just too preoccupied for food.
“We’re good,” said Gabe. The server nodded, smiled, and left.
Angel looked at her second beer. It was as beautifully cold as the first had been. She started to wonder whether the bartender had a special reserve of the stuff in some case somewhere set for 32.01 degrees fahrenheit.
Angel re-pocketed her phone and picked up her beer. There had been no messages from Jake. She didn’t know what she was expecting. Maybe what she’d seen in his eyes as he’d watched her during those meetings had been an illusion. Maybe it was wishful thinking on her part.
Angel knew better than to let romance jeopardize her job. It was why she’d never pursued anything with Gabriel. Not that he’d ever pursued anything with her either. He was professional, one of the best clan leaders in existence.
I need to get out more, Angel thought. The only guys she knew were wardens. She took a long pull from her second beer just as the first one started to kick in. It felt good. She noticed it when she shifted in her seat, and her bruises didn’t hurt as much. She ran a hand through her hair, and her back and shoulder didn’t scream at her with soreness.
“So tell me about the people you worked with on the Victor Maze case,” said Gabe.
Angel met his citrine gaze. He was fixed, his expression unreadable. It occurred to her that Gabe was very good at “interrogations,” and some tiny part of her wondered whether this was the beginning of one. But the alcohol was loosening her up, and that tiny part of her was getting even smaller, so she didn’t care as much as she probably should have.
“Okay,” she said easily. “What do you want to know?”
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 wa
rds 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.
Monsters, Book One: The Good, The Bad, The Cursed Page 10
