Redemption: The Evolution of Grace: A Nephilim Urban Fantasy (Grace Gamble Trilogy Book 1)

by Sabra Kay

  I frowned. “Chuck, I'm not in the mood for a lecture. My life is going to shit real quick, I don't know if you noticed.”

  “Noticed? How could I not notice? I'm pretty sure everyone has noticed.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” My chest tightened, and I could feel my blood boiling.

  “Why didn't you come to me, Grace? About Sera? You should have gone straight to Miles, but at the very least, come to Darah or me.”

  “Ethan made me promise not to tell.” My voice rose. How dare he give me shit for keeping a promise to a friend?

  “Made you promise not to tell? Are you five years old, woman? We're talking about a kidnapping attempt. And now she's gone… possibly for good.”

  “Don't say that!”

  “I have to say that. It's true. We don't know what they’re planning, but I feel pretty confident it's not great.”

  I shook my head as my vision blurred with tears. “That's why we should all be out looking for her. Fuck Miles, he can't stop me from going after her.”

  “Yes, he can. You don't have any business going after her.”

  I snapped my head toward him, filled with sudden rage, prepared to blast him for his last remark. When I saw his expression, I stopped short.

  “Why did you really leave Ethan's house?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  I shook my head. My mouth opened and closed, but I couldn’t formulate the words.

  “Grace?”

  “Rachael and I... We don't... We don't mesh. We never have.”

  “So, she threw you out of his home because you don't ‘mesh,’ seriously?”

  I narrowed my eyes, full of stubbornness. How did he know? How did they all seem to know? It was starting to feel like I had a giant sign on my head that everyone could read. Alcoholic. Loser. Rejected by my own father. Motherless, neurotic, selfish ass. What else did the sign say?

  I didn't respond.

  “Were you drunk?”

  “No!” I exploded. “I hardly ever get drunk, Chuck. Look, maybe you were a slobbering lush back when you had your little problem, but that's not me. I have a home. I have a job. Well, at least I did. My drinking isn't the problem. Everyone being in my goddamn business is the problem. You judging me is the problem. I'm tired of it. I see how you all look at me. I see it.”

  He continued calmly, unmoved by my outburst. “Did you drink at Ethan's house? Even just a little? Is that why she asked you to leave?”

  His calm demeanor felt more like a personal attack than a show of anger.

  I turned my chin up. “No, I didn't. Not even one drop.” It was true, right? If Rachael hadn't been touching my shit, she wouldn't have known about the flask, and I wasn't even planning on drinking. She was probably going to ask me to leave, anyway.

  The thought of Rachael sent a wave of nausea through my body. My bullshit fell flat, too. I had no business bringing booze into Ethan's house. Why had I thought I needed it?

  “I don't have to listen to this shit.” My chest was heaving at this point.

  My nerves were shot, and my head was pounding. My belly felt like it was on fire, and for a split second, I felt something like hatred, seething, throbbing, and boiling. Chuck’s shoulders sagged, and he shook his head. I thought to myself that he looked sad and old. It pissed me off even more.

  A loud crash startled us, and we both ducked. Chuck put his arms around me and shielded my head with his body. Seconds later, we both lifted our heads to look around. The sliding glass door had been shattered. Tiny bits of broken glass littered the balcony.

  “What the hell happened? Did someone launch something at the slider?” I frowned.

  We were on the top floor of the hotel.

  Chuck looked at me, then at the now open space. He shook his head. “No. The glass is outside, not inside. So the force would have to have come from in the apartment.”

  He looked at me again.

  Fuck.

  My head was swimming. I was still angry, but it was dull anger. Mostly, I was just done. I didn't want to be at the hotel. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be safe in my apartment, I wanted a drink, and I wanted, more than anything, to be alone.

  I couldn't look at Chuck. I muttered an apology for the door, grabbed my bag, and left him standing before the shattered glass, scratching his chin.

  Let him wonder. I don't need to explain myself to him or anyone else.

  ***

  I stepped out of the elevator and found myself face to face with Luz and Harry. I'm wasn’t sure what my face looked like at that point, but they both recoiled slightly. I shrugged and started to push past them. I wasn't in the mood for any of Luz's magical love and light bullshit, or Harry and his dimpled fucking charm. I wanted a cigarette. I wanted to pass out, numb out, check out.

  I also wanted answers. Chuck, Luz, and Harry didn't have the answers. They had questions and opinions. I wasn't interested in either.

  “Where are you headed?” Harry called after me.

  “Home.”

  Luz grabbed my arm, but what froze me in my tracks was the ice in her gaze.

  “Your home is not safe, Grace.”

  “So what? I'm supposed to stay here?”

  “Chuck thinks it's a good idea.” Harry offered.

  His brows were up to his hairline. I felt for him. He could see I was volatile. He didn't know the half of it. None of them did.

  Well, maybe Chuck had an inkling after the balcony door incident.

  I rolled my eyes. “Chuck doesn't know everything.”

  I cut between them and walked fast, not daring to look back. I walked through the lobby and out the front doors. I lit up and took a deep drag.

  I felt warmth at my side and looked to see that Luz had materialized next to me. She was so goddamn quiet.

  “Chuck doesn't know everything. You're right. But I know some things, and one of those things is that you shouldn't be home alone right now. It's not safe for your body or your mind.”

  “What's that supposed to mean, Luz?”

  “You should stay here. And before you leave to rescue the girl, you come to see me, okay?

  “Wait, what?” I took another drag and waited for her answer, but she turned and left through the doors before I could say anything else.

  Harry came through the doors just as she disappeared. He walked slowly toward me, hand outstretched, approaching me as though I was a stray dog or cat he was trying not to scare off. I exhaled through my nose, snorting and shaking my head.

  “Harry, I'm not in the mood. I just need to sleep.”

  He nodded. “I know. We don't have to talk.” He lit a cigarette, and we stood in silence. When I was finished, he followed me into the lobby. Claire was manning the reception desk and gave me a warm smile as I approached.

  “I have your room ready, Ms. Gamble.” Her voice was light.

  No doubt Miles or Chuck or some other man who felt they were in charge of me had already reserved my accommodations. I hoped they didn't think I was staying more than one night.

  She handed me my key, and I accepted. I closed my eyes for a moment and felt the light surrounding me for the first time in what seemed like days. Harry's hand closed around mine, and I exhaled. My room was on the fourth floor. It wasn't a suite like Chuck’s, but it was roomy, luxurious, and one hundred percent better than my cave, although I was loath to admit it.

  Harry crawled into the bed with me and held my hand against his chest.

  I didn't want him to talk, but I didn't want him to leave, either. Finally, I pulled the fluffy down comforter up over my head and curled my body up close to his. No dark shadows could reach me here, only those in my own head.

  Only what I brought with me.

  Chapter Eleven

  I woke up groggy and sore but had to admit that Luz's magical salve had helped the pain, swelling, and bruising. Her charm was helping, too. I felt positive I'd busted a rib or two, but after a few merciful hours of ha
rd sleep, I could breathe without seeing stars. I slipped the pouch she'd given me into my bra again. Somehow, it eased the tightness in my chest when I wore it.

  I texted Darah first thing, praying they'd found her, knowing it wasn't true. She responded right away that no, there was nothing. The text was free from niceties. She asked no questions of me.

  I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes and took in a deep, quivering breath. They're looking for her. They're looking for her. They're going to find her. They will.

  I was starving. I wondered if I was some kind of low-key sociopath. How could I be hungry at a time like this? A vision of Ethan sitting at his table, alone, in front of a cup of coffee gone cold, staring at his phone, pushed itself into the forefront of my mind, unwanted. I quickly shoved it away and determined I would have no more of these thoughts.

  My ability to dissociate was a gift and a curse. I could numb myself, and contrary to what others may have thought, I didn't need booze to do it. I splashed cold water on my face and left Harry asleep on the bed.

  The Grove Grill breakfast wasn't as good as Pat's, but I was starving and in no position to be picky. Breakfast was served round the clock, and the view from my table was of a city just waking up. I wolfed down scrambled eggs, toast, sausage, and a tall glass of orange juice. Harry and Chuck made their way downstairs and joined me, uninvited. They watched me, wide-eyed, while I shoveled food into my mouth.

  “So… what are your plans for the day? Chuck asked, but there was no way I was going to stop eating long enough to answer questions.

  I put my hand up then waved it across my throat to indicate my need for them to shut up and let me eat.

  “I gotta make a call, be right back.” Chuck grabbed his coffee and stepped out of the restaurant, leaving Harry and me alone.

  He sighed and looked at me while I shoved the rest of my English muffin in my mouth, dripping butter down my chin and onto my lap. We were going to have a talk. I knew it, and I didn't like it. Now just wasn't the time, and as close to the edge as I was, I hoped I wouldn't say anything that would drive us even further apart.

  “Hey, the other night I—”

  I shook my head. “Shhh. No. I was shitty, I'm sorry.”

  I gulped down the food in my mouth and wiped butter off my chin, wondering if I always talked with my mouth full.

  His expression relaxed. “Look, now isn't the time, I know. I just wanted to tell you I'm here for you. I won't abandon you.”

  I stopped at looked at him, then away while I tried to swallow down the lump in my throat. My eyes started to well, and I had to blink rapidly to keep them from leaking.

  There are things people say to you sometimes, things you didn't know you longed to hear. It was meant to be reassuring, and it was. But somehow, it only intensified the fear I had about letting him in, leaning on him… falling in love with him.

  He cleared his throat and looked out the window, watching the traffic and the pedestrians go by while I finished my coffee.

  “I'm thinking about knocking off the booze for a while. You know, just taking a break from it.”

  “A bartender that doesn't drink?” I narrowed my eyes and glared at Chuck through the window.

  I bet this is his doing. When will he learn that my relationship is none of his business?

  “Yeah. Well, I might not want to be a bartender forever. I might want to do something else.”

  “Really? Like what?”

  He shrugged. “I don't know. I was talking to Luz. She seems to think I could develop my abilities more, maybe work with her, or on my own.”

  “You're gonna turn into a hippie?”

  “What? No. Why would you say that?”

  “Luz is a total hippie.”

  “She's not a hippie.”

  “Dude. She's a vegan, and she smells like incense. She's wearing tie-dye right now, I guarantee it. She's a hippie.”

  “Wow, Grace, what did hippies ever do to you?”

  “Nothing, I'm just saying.”

  Chuck returned and took his seat. His face wore remnants of deep concern, and he seemed a little shaky.

  “What happened? Is it Sera? What's going on?”

  He shook his head and said nothing. Of course, he's not going to tell me. I'm not part of the team anymore. Resentment stung my belly, and I felt the urge to lash out. At him, Harry, anyone. Didn't matter.

  Luz appeared out of nowhere, and I noticed Harry staring at her tie-dyed tank top. If everything wasn't so screwed, it would have gotten a good chuckle out of me.

  She took a seat at the table and glanced around. “Remember to see me before you leave,” she said softly. “You've got to find her before the dark moon. You don't have much time.”

  She patted my hand and excused herself. I sat with my mouth hanging open while Chuck and Harry seemed unaware there had just been a conversation at all.

  My phone rang. It was Miles. I began stuffing the damn thing back in my purse, but a hard look from Chuck stopped me. He was right. There was no sense putting it off. I stepped away from the table and picked up.

  “Miles.”

  “Grace. Where are you?”

  I sighed. “Across the street.”

  “Good. I'll need to see you. Later this afternoon works for me.”

  “Fine.”

  “You're not to leave the area. I want you to stay at the Grove, use the staff entrance.”

  I frowned. What was up? Something was up. “What's going on, Miles?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do I mean? I mean, why can't I just go home? I'm going to need to go home, you know. Why the staff entrance? What difference does it make?”

  “If you want to keep your job, you'll stop questioning your superior and start taking orders, for once. Now stay put until I have a chance to meet with you.”

  “Fine.”

  “Oh, and Gamble?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Stay sober, if possible.”

  I hit end call, shoved my phone back in my purse, and lit a cigarette.

  It was time to pay a visit to Ayana.

  ***

  Finding a parking spot anywhere in San Francisco was a triumph. I'd circled the block half a dozen times and was just on the edge of losing my shit when I finally scored one.

  I parked and took a few deep breathes. Ayana would tolerate no stammering or wishy-washy-ness. I had to approach her with purpose and confidence, or I'd be standing in front of a closed door inside of five minutes with no answers. I took a deep breath and knocked firmly.

  Ayana's eyes widened when she saw me standing at her door, but she motioned me in, muttering under her breath. “Have a seat. I have a busy day ahead of me, so please make it quick.”

  Her office was sunny with colorful window coverings, and the walls were filled with artwork and framed photographs of her travels. I guess I'd been expecting something more utilitarian, but this was a warm, cozy, welcoming space. She motioned me to sit in a mustard-yellow leather chair and took a seat behind her desk.

  My words caught in my throat, and for a moment, I thought I was going to blow it.

  “You didn't call. I'm assuming this is of some importance and not just a social visit.”

  “Yes, it is important.” I said, regaining my composure. “I want to talk to you about the Cervantes case.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, I couldn't quite read her expression. It wasn't friendly. That much I knew.

  “I figured you would at some point.” She sighed. “What do you want me to tell you, Grace?”

  “The truth.”

  “The truth? The truth is you showed up to a job drunk and unprepared. That's the truth.”

  I watched her as she spoke. She was clearly uncomfortable in my presence. I saw her eyes glance toward the door more than once, and she was sitting stiffly in her chair.

  “You've been leaning into that since the beginning. I wasn't drunk, but yes, I'd been drinking. We know
this. Was it wrong? Yes. But that’s not the whole story. You know it, and I know it. It's time to get it out in the open. I'm done being the bad guy in this.”

  She leaned in, challenging me. “No, no, you’re not. You haven't even gotten started. The best thing you can do, Grace, is find something else to do. Anything else. Preferably something low stress. This job isn't for you.”

  “Excuse me? What gives you the right to judge my ability to do this job?”

  She shook her head. “You misunderstand me, Grace. I'm not saying you're incapable of doing the job. I'm saying you shouldn't do the job.”

  “Why?”

  “Tell me why you want to do it? What's your motivation?”

  “That's easy. Get rid of as many demon bastards as possible. The world is a better place without them. I want to make a difference.”

  “Aha! That's your motivation? You hate demons? You want to get rid of them?” Her eyes twinkled, but there was no humor in them.

  No, this was a secret satisfaction. A smugness. It was ugly and out of place for her, someone I knew to be a genuinely good person. What had I done to her?

  I blinked. “Yeah, don't you?”

  “Sure, sure. But more than that, I want to help people. I care about the folks we help. We are providing a service. We are being of service. But not you. You don't come to a job wanting to help. You want a fight. You want to feel like you've helped kick another demon back to the otherworld, but there's more to it than that. There's a human life at stake. Those cambion you want so badly to assassinate? They're half human. They have human families, human feelings. I know some of them are downright evil, but not all of them, and it's still a life. Taking them down is a necessity, not a fun game, or some way to fulfill your personal vendetta.”

  Of course, she went there. No shit, there are human lives at stake. I knew that as well as anyone.

  “So I hate demons. So I want to get rid of them. That's my motivation, so? What's the problem? And it's not fair to say I don't care about human life. Demons take human lives, every day. Not just the ones they're possessing, either. A demon killed my Mother, Ayana. Does it make me a bad person that I want to prevent more deaths? Am I an asshole for that?”

  Her eyes softened ever so slightly. “No, not at all. I knew your mother, Grace. Did you know that?”