by S.B. Rodgers
Britney’s eyes narrowed. “Did you just say no to me?” Her hand snatched out, ripping the bag away from Abby. Britney had just straightened up when she felt a hand clamp onto her shoulder. She turned, only to be greeted by a stony-faced Gabe. Britney put on her fakest, brightest smile, oozing greasy charm. “Gabe! I was just bringing you your water!”
Gabe stared down at her, his eyes dark with rage. He grabbed the bag from her limp grip, shouldering it wordlessly. He looked away, after her smile had wilted into a worried expression. “Abby. We’re leaving.” He bit out, his voice raw. Reaching up and taking her hand, he waited for a moment. She stood, somewhat shakily, and hurried down the few steps as he began walking away, still firmly pulling her by the hand.
* * *
Gabe breathed in and out slowly, trying to control himself, to control the rage that coursed through his veins. He focused on it as he walked, just barely managing to keep the tattoos from rising and twining down his arms. They strained against the hem of his jersey sleeves, threatened to rise around his neck. He looked down at Abby and felt his temper rising. The girl was red-faced and upset, clearly shaken. He nearly growled in frustration.
He had felt Abby’s anguish while he was on the field, had tried to wait for an opportune moment to intervene, at least. He had had no such luck; in a surge of pure protective anger, he had pushed the two boys scrimmaging for the ball in front of him out of his way, knocking them to either side of his broad shoulders. He had strode across the field, ignoring the yelling and cursing of Coach Cooper and the referee, and, pushing through the crowd of cheerleaders, confronted Britney and rescued Abby.
It wasn’t enough to sate his thirst for justice, he thought, muscles trembling with constrained, agitated energy. He turned abruptly, muttering loudly and angrily to himself, fully intent on storming back and, at the very least, giving Britney a piece of his mind.
He was stopped in his tracks by the feeling of her tiny hand tugging at the back of his jersey. “Just…let it go. Please.” She said in a small voice.
He heaved a deep sigh before turning to her. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, staring at the ground. “Let’s just go.” He nodded carefully, leading her forward with her hand in his.
Chapter 21
Lucifer rapped his knuckles against the polished, stony black door that lead to Draven’s quarters. He waited for a moment before the door swung inwards, opened by the woman who now stood before him.
She was tall, nearly as tall as him, with a perfect hourglass figure and curves in all of the right places. She raised a hand, sweeping her long blond hair out of her stunning hazel eyes. A smile curved on her plush lips. “My Lord! To what do we owe this…” she looked him up and down appreciatively. “pleasure?”
Lucifer flashed her a sexy smirk, grabbing her hand and kissing it softly “I’ve come to speak to your husband, Aria. Is he in?” Aria shivered in ecstasy, her ivory skin flushing pink as Lucifer continued, kissing his way slowly up her arm.
A commanding voice called from somewhere behind her “Send him in, darling.”
Lucifer straightened up and entered the lavishly furnished apartment. “Later,” he whispered in her ear as he passed by. Walking in the direction he had heard Draven’s voice coming from. The stone walls were decorated with monochromatic red tapestries, the fire and lamplight lending them a fiery glow.
Draven sat in his office on one of the two large black armchairs next to the fireplace. He stood as Lucifer entered. “My Lord,” he said, inclining his head.
Lucifer waved his hand “No need for that, old friend.” He plopped into the opposite armchair, gesturing for Draven to sit. “I need your advice, it seems.”
Draven nodded, a serious look on his face. It was rare for the king to request help from anyone, his right-hand man included. Looking at his wife, who stood behind his chair dutifully, he spoke. “Aria, go on. There are things we must discuss.” She inclined her head and backed out of the room, the demure action not quite fitting with her luscious form and sensual walk.
Lucifer followed her with his eyes, enjoying her femininity. “You’re a lucky man, Draven. She’s as stunning as the day she Fell.”
“You flatter me, my Lord.” Draven murmured.
Lucifer arched an eyebrow “So modest. However,” he said, pressing his hands together. “I didn’t come here to talk about Aria…I came here to talk about Sataniel. She’s planning…something, I don’t know what. But I can feel it. I know she’s up to something.”
Draven looked at him sharply “Do you think she knows?” he asked.
“That’s why I came here. Do you think she knows about the girl? Her actions have been suspicious of late…have you noticed anything?”
Draven shook his head slowly “Nothing that I can recall…but, if she knows about the girl, then I assume that she’d act on it.”
Lucifer gave him a knowing look “She would. And if she knows, Sataniel is acting on it. Which means we are running out of time.” He sighed, gazing into the flames of the fireplace as he mused. “I don’t know what she’s up to, but I can’t let her plans bear fruit. The girl is too important. She’s the key to my plans, and we need her on our side in the days to come.”
“A thought, my lord. As I’m sure you remember, Aria was once quite politically motivated.” He fixed Lucifer with a knowing grin. “Long story short, motherhood quickly put a stop to her scheming and meddlesome nature.”
Lucifer scoffed at this advice, turning back to the subject at hand, but inwardly filing the notion away in the back of his mind.
“So, the girl; is she really that special my Lord?” Draven asked quietly.
Lucifer turned his gaze on him, eyes burning with fervour and reflecting the dancing firelight. “Draven; she is the only one of her kind. And I need to use her more…unique qualities…for my plans, not those of my lovely, cunning Queen. I trust that you can keep tabs on Sataniel?”
Draven brought his fist to his heart. “Of course, my Lord. Name it, and it is done.”
“I’ll leave it up to you then. Best of luck, General.” He was halfway out the door when he turned on his heel “By the way, how is your son’s search going?”
Draven blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question “He has narrowed it down to one country, my Lord. He expects to find her any day now.”
Lucifer nodded thoughtfully. “Excellent. Send him my regards. I must be going now; I have some…unfinished business to take care of.” He said, leaving Draven’s office, but not his quarters.
Chapter 22
Abby jogged a little, trying to keep up with Gabe’s hurried pace as he pulled her along. She could feel the anger radiating from him, rolling off of him in waves. She still couldn’t quite believe it; Gabe had stood up for her, had left the game for her—he was this angry for her sake. “Umm, Gabe?” she said quietly, trying to get his attention.
“Yes?” he answered brusquely, voice creeping out from between clenched teeth.
“Can—we--slow down—a--little?” she asked, her breathing choppy as she hurried behind him, his long legs striding far faster than she could. She saw his back stiffen and then his strides shorten, and cease.
He dropped her hand, not turning to face her. “…Sorry.” He said after a long minute, back still to her. “I just—I can’t believe that—UGH!!” he growled a wordless sound of rage, violently slamming his hand with his fist. He took another deep breath.
Abby stared at him in astonishment. This was a new side to the usually mild-mannered Gabe. “Gabe…It’s not too late; you can go back to them, go and apologize?” Forcing a smile onto her face, she continued. “You don’t have to be like me—you don’t know what they’re capable of. It’d be better if you just—“
She stopped when Gabe turned around, giving her a burning, indescribable look. His stormy eyes burned into her, lit from within and nearly glowing with emotion. “I told you before, didn’t I? I chose you, Abby. Not Britney. Not Tyl
er or Jason or any of those other jerks. You. So please,” He took a step forward, pulling her into his strong arms and whispering fiercely. “don’t try to drive me away with words you don’t even mean.”
Abby froze, wrapped in his warm embrace, completely stunned. She didn’t know what to do, her emotions at war. She felt so tired, tired of it all, and Gabe’s arms were so comforting. Sighing deeply, she relaxed, resting the top of her head against his broad chest. “They’re all going to hate you, you know?” she muttered, staring down at their feet.
His arm snaked between them, and she felt a finger tipping her chin back. His eyes met hers, filled with that burning light. “Who cares?”
Abby felt heat fill her face, knew that she was turning bright red under his caring gaze. She looked away and Gabe stepped back slightly, gently untangling her from his embrace.
He stared over at the field, now far away, and shook his head, a wry smile on his face. “So, what do you want to do now?” He chuckled softly, glancing at Abby “I don’t think Coach would let me back on the team after that, even if I wanted to. So, where do you want to go?”
Abby thought for a moment “Well, I don’t want to go home yet, and I definitely don’t want to go back to school, so…”
Gabe grinned at her mischievously. “Want to come to my house?”
Abby blinked at him, taken aback. “Excuse me?”
“To study—we have that English midterm coming up soon. So what do you say?”
Abby thought about it for a moment. Would it really be alright? She weighed the pros and cons in her mind, then shrugged it off. She’d come this far in trusting him already; she decided to trust him a little further. She nodded. “Okay, let’s go to your house; if we leave now, maybe we can beat the rush-hour gridlock.”
Gabe smirked, taking her hand in his. “Ah, the legendary DC rush-hour—so far, I’ve been able to somehow avoid it. Let’s see if I can keep up my streak.”
Abby laughed, walking with him to the shiny vehicle. “I’d like to see that!”
He walked in front of her, opening the passenger side door and holding it open for her. “Your chariot awaits, madam.” He said, all fake seriousness.
“And they say chivalry is dead.” Abby grinned.
* * *
The car slowed as it approached the gate, the wrought-iron structure towering above them. Abby craned her neck forward to look at them. “Whoa…you live here?” She asked, pointing at the massive house on the hill.
“Um, yeah?” Gabe answered, amused.
“Ah, sorry. That was rude. I just…I mean it’s…Well just look at the size of that thing!” She gestured at the house.
Gabe laughed. “That was my reaction the first time I saw it, too.” The gates slowly swung inwards and Gabe drove up the cherry-tree lined lane, parking the car in front of the house. He got out first, rushing to the other side of the car and opening Abby’s door for her. He held out his hand debonairly “My lady?”
She unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, gingerly accepting his assistance. Abby looked up, marvelling at the mansion in front of her. It was as enormous as it was beautiful, a white, three-storied affair with huge glass windows. “It’s gorgeous,” Abby breathed, awestruck. Gabe stared at it with her for a moment before asking,
“Want to see what the inside looks like?” Abby nodded, still staring at the impressive piece of architecture. Gabe took the lead, stepping towards the house with Abby trailing slowly behind him.
“Hey?” she stated, stopping for a moment.
He turned to look at her “Yeah?”
“Can I draw this sometime? The house, I mean?”
“Sure, anytime! Just let me know beforehand, I don’t want the security service thinking we have a burglar or a stalker or something.”
“Security service?” Abby asked.
Gabe pointed up, indicating the cluster of cameras that were trained on them “People don’t usually notice them; it’s a lot to take in at first.” He explained as they walked towards the door, pulling it open and stepping inside “Come on. The exam isn’t going to study for itself.” He grinned.
Abby raised her hands in the air in a gesture of mock surrender “Fine, if you insist. Let’s study.” She walked into the house, letting Gabe hold the door open for her and shut it once she was safely inside. She looked around at the large foyer they now stood in. It was open-spaced and airy, with large windows and a sweeping double grand staircase leading to the second floor. “You could fit at least six of my room in here…” she said, bending back to look at the arched ceiling. “What kind of acoustics does this place have?”
Gabe cupped his hand over his mouth “ANYBODY HOME?!” he shouted, the words echoing loudly back at them. Abby laughed. “As you can see,” Gabe explained calmly, trying unsuccessfully to keep from laughing as well “it’s perfect for having a conversation with oneself.”
The two teenagers were so focused on each other that they didn’t notice the man step into the room, flicking flour dust from his longish dark-blond hair and singed frilly apron. He cleared his throat “Gabe, how many times have I asked you to please use your indoor voice?”
Abby jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. “Ah!” she gasped, whipping around to face him. Aiden smiled friendlily at her, wiping his hands on his apron. “Hmm, you must be Abby?” He stuck out his now somewhat cleaner right hand. “Nice to finally meet you. Gabe talks about you almost non-stop.”
Abby shyly took his hand, shaking it gently. “Nice to meet you too...you must be Gabe’s…” She looked at Gabe for help; she had assumed he was living alone in the house; he had never mentioned another person living there.
“My butler,” Gabe interjected.
“His uncle,” Aiden said at the same time.
“My uncle?”
“Your BUTLER!?” Aiden shook his head, a wry grimace on his face. “I’m his uncle, Aiden Moore. You can call me Aiden. I am not a butler. ”
Abby smiled cautiously. “Got it. Thank you for letting me come over, Aiden.”
“Of course; any friend of Gabe’s is a friend of mine. Would you like anything to eat, dear?”
Abby opened her mouth to answer when Gabe interrupted. “NO, she wouldn’t! If we’re hungry we’ll order a pizza or something.”
“Are you sure? It would be no trouble at all…” Aiden offered again, only to receive a hard stare from Gabe. “Fine, fine. But Abby dear if you change your mind then just ask and I’ll whip something up for you.” With that he turned on his heel and headed back towards the kitchen.
“Maybe I should have said yes … I don’t want him to think I’m rude.” Abby worried.
“Abby… It’s only fair to warn you now; unless you really do believe in miracles, don’t eat Aiden’s food. It could very well be the last thing you ever do.”
She watched Gabe for a moment, waiting for the punch line of what must be an old family joke, but when he simply stared back at her she realised with some horror that he was completely serious.
“Still, interesting guy, isn’t he?” she prompted timidly.
Gabe sighed grudgingly. “You don’t know the half of it.”
Chapter 23
The bell above the door chimed merrily as Aiden entered the deserted Chinese restaurant. “Foooong,” he called out, eyes panning the store for the venerable angel “Are you in?”
“Over here, Aiden.” Fong grumbled, his voice echoing down from somewhere above him.
Aiden looked up, squinting into the darkness of the restaurant. He finally saw Fong, perched dangerously on top of a high ladder. “What are you doing up there?” he asked, genuinely curious.
Fong muttered something under his breath in Chinese, causing Aiden to bristle. “Well, that wasn’t very nice. Not realizing that you were replacing a lightbulb does not make me a—what would the rough translation of that insult be?”
Fong answered as he began descending the ladder “Moron. We’ll go with moron.”
> “Hmm. I guess I’ll just chalk it up to you being a grumpy old man.” Fong ignored him, walking over to the light switch and flicking it on. Light flooded the restaurant, illuminating the empty seats and polished glasses.
He mumbled an apology “Sorry—I’ve been trying to get that light fixed all morning! At first I thought it was the breaker, but then it was the bulb, and I didn’t have a replacement…well, anyway, how can I help you today, my friend?” He squinted up at Aiden sourly, his wrinkles more pronounced in the bright new light.
“I came to pick up an order of manna,” Aiden said lightly “Gabe can’t stand my cooking, it seems, so he sent me out for more suitable groceries.”
“Can’t say I blame the boy. You’re a terrible cook.” Fong stated as he wandered into the kitchen.
“You too? Why does everyone always say that?” Aiden frowned.
“Aiden,” Fong grunted, dragging a heavy box out of the kitchen “there are things you are good at, and things you are not. Cooking falls into the second category. If you would just accept that, I wouldn’t have needed to get my stomach pumped in this lifetime.”
“Hmph. Let me help you with that.” He walked over to where Fong was struggling with the box and picked it up, lifting it to his chest and setting it on the counter.
“Thanks. Take what you like from there, there’s plenty more in the back.” Walking behind the bar counter, Fong stepped onto the little stepstool and picked up a glass. “Can I get you something to drink? You walked here, right?”
“Part of the way, I took the bus as well.”
Fong chuckled “I didn’t think he’d let you drive.” He handed Aiden the glass, now filled to the brim with icy cold water.
“We all know that I’m not…suited to vehicles. You remember the warhorse incident.” He took a sip of the water.
“I’d forgotten, actually. You’re right. You’d better stick to your feet, or wings.”
Aiden changed the subject. “What’s new in the world?”
Fong’s face darkened “Now that you mention it, there is something you need to know.” He leaned in closer, eyes serious “There have been killings. The work of a Hunter.”
