He bit his lip, appearing abashed. “Yeah, I guess. Sorry. Another time maybe.” He grinned, his blue eyes lighting up.
I sighed. “What now?”
He dropped to the sand next to me, his clammy wetsuit brushing against my jacket. I moved it out of his way. “I just love the fact that you equate Alex being a computer geek with a werewolf, a fallen angel, and a demon.”
I grinned back. “Well, he hasn’t told me what he is, and something tells me he isn’t human, so computer geek was all I had.”
Sam snuggled closer to me, snaking his arm around my waist. I started to push him away, then realised how warm he was. “Alex isn’t very comfortable with what he is. He’s a very private guy anyway, and I think he really likes you. You’re the only other person he’s ever shown an interest in aside from Amadi, and he’s been around a long time.”
“Really?” I laid my head on Sam’s shoulder. “Then why doesn’t he trust me?”
He brought his hand up to twirl a lock of my hair around his finger. “I think he’s afraid of how you’ll react. Of what you’ll think of him. He’s got a past, Faith. We all do.”
I looked at him. “That’s what Amadi said.”
Sam smiled a little sadly. “Well, it’s true. We’ve all done things in the past that we worry will colour how you think of us. You’re starting to fit in really well here, and I guess none of us want to ruin that.”
My eyes fell on Cas and Amadi as they walked towards us, pulling their shirts back on. “Yeah, well, I know all about Cas, so I guess he doesn’t have to worry. He knows what I think about him.”
Sam frowned. “He’s never told me what went on between you two, only that you used to date, but from what you’ve told me, I think you really need to talk to him about it.”
“Oh, really?” I sat up and glared at him. “And why is that?”
“Because I can’t imagine Cas ever wanting to intentionally hurt you, baby girl. And now that you know what he is, he might be able to explain things better.”
“Forget it, Sam.” I pulled out from under his arm and stood up, brushing the sand off my jeans.
“Faith—”
“I said, forget it.” He nodded and jumped up, picking up his surfboard and carrying it over to the van. My eyes met Cas’s as he and Amadi headed towards us. Neither of us smiled, and I looked away, climbing into the back seat.
No, Sam, he would never hurt me. He would just get other people to do it for him.
Chapter Seventeen
FAITH
We’d stopped on the way back for pizza and beer—a regular occurrence on a Friday night—so it wasn’t a surprise to find Alex waiting for us in the living room when we got home. What was a surprise, however, was that Euriel was sitting with him.
He never joined us for meals, preferring to make his own from supplies the “demon spawn” hadn’t contaminated with his touch. I had thought Amadi would be insulted until he quietly shared that he found it hilarious to watch Euriel glower at him over our roast beef with all the trimmings while he played with a bowl of kale salad. Euriel couldn’t cook to save his life. I watched the next time and realised Amadi was right, so I took great pleasure in visibly enjoying every bite and constantly complimenting Amadi on how good it was. It made me happy to observe Euriel getting more annoyed with every meal. He’d gone on much as he’d started. Avoiding everyone as much as he could and barely being civil when he was forced to speak to us. It was very clear he saw himself as far above our stations, and he was furious he was being forced to slum it. I got the feeling he really didn’t like me, because I kept catching him staring at me with a strong expression of loathing on his face. I wondered what I’d done in a past life to make him hate me so much.
At least he was dressing better. Today he’d downgraded his three-piece suit to a light blue shirt and chinos to try to fit in a bit, and he perched on the edge of the sofa as he spoke with Alex. Geez, didn’t this guy ever just sit back and relax?
Alex looked up as we all traipsed through the door, and I swear he mouthed the words, “Thank God!” as we did. “Hey, guys. Can you sit for a bit? I’ve got some news.”
All thoughts of showers and hot coffee were forgotten as I plonked down on the sofa next to him. Remembering what Sam had said about Alex worrying about what I thought of him, I scooted closer and laid my head on his shoulder. Opposite us, Euriel scowled at me. Alex lowered his head, resting it gently on top of mine for a moment before straightening up. The other guys perched on the arms of the sofas, with Sam collapsing fully into the squashy armchair.
Looking uncomfortable at being the centre of attention, even though he had instigated the conversation, Alex cleared his throat. “So, um... I’ve not heard anything back from Hargreaves, but I’ve been doing a little digging on my own, and thanks to Faith, I may have found something. It’s not huge, but it may be a tentative lead.” I sat up straight. He leaned forward and pulled a card out of his laptop case and handed it to me. “The letter from Rose. I found the painting.”
I took it from him, running my eyes over the depiction of the crucifixion. “You did? Did it mean something?”
“Well, not exactly. The painting itself is pretty standard. It’s a print of a fresco, one of many found in a religious complex in Italy. The thing is, when I went through your mother’s handbag, among the items were her passport and these.” He handed me a pair of plane tickets.
“Rose Matthews. Return ticket to Florence, Italy.” I looked at him. “These are from two weeks before she disappeared. So she went to Florence and then left me a letter written on a card from a refectory there?” He nodded.
“Does the painting have any special significance for us or Rose?” Cas queried.
Alex shook his head. “Not that I can see so far. I haven’t been able to hack into that portable hard drive yet, so there may be something on there that links it—or it could be a complete coincidence. She went to Florence, stopped off at a refectory, not unheard of for a theologian, and bought this card. When she wrote her letter to you, that was what she had at hand. It’s just…”
“What?” I prompted, running my fingers over the image.
“The plane tickets,” he answered.
I glanced down at them, then realised what he was saying. “There are two sets,” I said slowly. “She didn’t go to Florence alone.”
“Then who did she go with?” Sam asked, leaning forward.
I turned the other set of tickets over and read the name on them out loud. “Phillip Hargreaves.” I looked up at the other guys. “But he said he didn’t know her that well. Isn’t it strange he didn’t mention he went on a trip with her just before she disappeared? Why would my mother go to Florence with Hargreaves anyway?”
Cas stood up. “I don’t know, but I think we should find out. Let me have a quick shower, and we’ll head into Concordia and ask him ourselves.”
*
An hour later, we were pulling up in front of the stone townhouse on Cas’s bike. I unzipped my leather jacket, revealing the black crop top I wore underneath, and pulled my helmet off, leaving it on the seat for when we came back. Cas did the same. For some reason, it felt strangely like the first time I had come here with him. I glanced over at him. He was watching me, his dark eyes fixed on my waist. I scowled when I realised what he was looking at. He stepped closer to me and brushed his fingertips over the scar that was still visible.
I pushed his hand away. “Admiring your handiwork?” I snapped.
His eyes jerked up to mine. “That’s not fair, Faith. I didn’t do this.”
“No, you just got your lackeys to do it instead. I thought you didn’t mind getting your hands dirty. Do the other guys know you get thugs to do your real dirty work for you, or don’t you like to talk about beating women over pizza and beer?”
His eyes glittered, and he took hold of my arm, his fingers biting into the flesh, even through the thick leather. Cas leaned down into my face. “You don’t know what you are talking about,
Faith.”
I wrenched my arm away from him. “Yeah, actually, six weeks in a hospital gives me a pretty good idea of what I’m talking about.”
“Six weeks?” He looked shocked, and I wondered why.
“A broken arm, four fractured ribs, a concussion, and internal bleeding, not to mention three stab wounds and two blood transfusions. So six weeks, yeah.” I spun and walked towards the front door. I reached it and turned to see Cas still standing where I’d left him, staring off into space. His normally generous lips were squeezed tight, and I could see his fists were clenched at his sides. Boohoo. “Look, I want answers from Hargreaves, I’m not wasting time rehashing the past. We have to work together on this, and when it’s done and we’ve found Rose, I’ll leave, and we’ll never have to see each other again.”
His eyes met mine for a brief moment, though I couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling. He’d always been one for keeping his feelings locked away. Did he regret what he’d done? Maybe. To be honest, I couldn’t give less of a fuck. I turned and waited for him to head up the steps and tap in the passcode for the door. He held the door open for me, and I marched in, ignoring him. I wasn’t as nervous as I had been two weeks ago, and with Cas at my heels, I stalked up the stairs and along the hallway to Hargreaves’ office door. Without knocking, I turned the door handle and walked straight in, ignoring Cas’s protests behind me.
*
Hargreaves sat behind his desk, leaning back as though relaxing. Another silver-haired man sat in front of him. He didn’t seem that old, but his face was so gaunt and drawn, part of me wondered whether he was seriously ill. He stood up and turned as I walked in. Hargreaves did the same.
“Miss Matthews, I know you are new here, but it is common courtesy to knock on a closed door.”
I cocked my head to one side. “Is that so? Well, where I come from, it’s common courtesy not to lie to someone’s face about something important.”
He stared at me for a moment, then turned to his visitor and reached out to shake his hand. “Check in with me in three days. Sooner if you manage to glean any new information.” The visitor nodded, and picking his coat up from the arm of the chair, he made his way towards the door. I stepped aside to let him by, but he paused and looked down at me. His eyes were dark, a bit like Cas’s, except there was something strange about them. I wanted to say that they were soulless, like a shark’s lifeless orbs, but it wasn’t that. There was a malevolence behind them that I could feel boring into me. I took a step back, and he smiled. I really wished he hadn’t. A cold shiver ran over me, and I felt bile rising in my throat. Who was this guy? He looked back towards Hargreaves.
“Have a good evening, sir.” His gaze swung slowly back to mine, and I swallowed as he picked up my hand and brushed his mouth over the back. His lips were warm, but my skin crawled at his touch. He released my hand without averting his gaze and smiled again. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Matthews.” He left through the door, and I leaned against the doorframe for a moment, concentrating on not throwing up.
“You okay?” Cas put his hand on my arm, concern all over his features. Fucking hypocrite. I shoved his hand away.
“Fine.” I turned to Hargreaves and moved to stand in front of him. He didn’t offer me a seat, and I wouldn’t have taken it if he had. “You lied to me.” He leaned back in his chair again, pressing his fingertips together, and watched me shrewdly.
“About what, Miss Matthews?” I put both of my hands on the edge of the desk and leaned over it.
“You told me you barely knew my mother. But I know that two weeks before she disappeared, she went to Florence with you.” He opened his mouth, but I cut him off. “Oh, nobody else knows. Apparently she told her co-workers she was going alone, and your secretary was under the impression you were at a conference in New York that week.”
“How did you... Oh. Alexei.”
“Right. Did you really think you wouldn’t be caught? You teamed me up with some of your best agents and didn’t expect us to find out you lied?”
He sighed. “Well, to be honest, Miss Matthews, from what I’d heard from Rose, I figured if I put you in a house with four rather attractive young men, you’d be too busy to do any snooping of your own. But I see you’re more intelligent than your mother gave you credit for, and you’ve used your... skills... to convince my agents, as you put it, to put their jobs second to your own desires.”
The large desk between us was the only reason I didn’t reach out and slap him across the face. Or punch him. “My mother said nothing of the kind about me.”
“Oh, I assure you, she did.”
“She was professional. She wouldn’t have spoken about me like that at work. You’re lying to me again.” I hit the desk with the flat of my palm and felt a small spark of vindictive from joy seeing Hargreaves jump.
“But she wasn’t at work, was she, sir?” Cas came to stand next to me. He put his hand over mine, and I wanted to pull it away, but curiosity kept me still.
Hargreaves glared at him. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, Cassiel. I see this young woman has managed to convince even the most committed of soldiers.”
“Well, as you said, she has her temptations, and, as I am starting to realise, so did her mother.”
I twisted around to look at him. “What are you talking about?” I hissed.
“Yes, Cassiel, do spit it out. I am most intrigued.” Hargreaves sounded almost bored, and the inclination to break his nose returned.
Cas watched him calmly. “Her mother wasn’t being professional, because the two of you weren’t on a professional trip together. It was personal.”
“What?” I turned back to stare at Hargreaves. “You were... together?”
He glared at me for a moment, and then it was like the fight left his eyes and he slumped down in his chair. “We were,” he murmured quietly. “I didn’t tell you because she wasn’t ready to tell you yet. In fact, we hadn’t told anyone.”
Cas sat in the chair the creepy visitor had just vacated. “You hadn’t applied yet.”
Hargreaves shook his head. Standing, he went over to a small, ornate side table and poured the three of us a finger of brandy.
“What do you mean, applied?” I glanced back and forth between them, still reeling from the surprise.
Cas shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Well, Concordia exists to keep the peace on Earth between Heaven and Hell and the residents thereof. Certain rules apply to certain places and species. Angels, for example, are completely forbidden from forming any kind of romantic relationship, and having sex is punished by condemnation to Hell. Well, Hargreaves told you about the watchers and the nephilim.” I nodded and took a drink of the brandy—definitely top-notch stuff. Cas did the same, then he continued, “Rules apply to other species as well. The Concordia is in charge of enforcing those rules. Supernatural creatures are not allowed to have relationships with humans. Sex is permissible, but the overarching rule of humans never finding out about the truth exists above all. Between supernatural races, other than angels, it starts to get really complicated. With witches, well, it’s more of a snobbery thing. Sorry, sir, but it is.”
Hargreaves sat down and propped his elbows on the desk. “What Cassiel is getting at is that witches are of different lineages, usually traced back to a particular family, and thereby a particular angel. However, there was often a lot of interbreeding between families to try to strengthen the angelic power in their descendants. This resulted in a so-called Court of Witches, which is similar to a mediaeval royal court, I suppose, but the families squabble over whose descendants are more powerful. Descendants of a more formidable family are expected to make matches with other powerful families. Your mother’s lineage, though not low, is not as high as my own, and it would have caused... trouble for us both.”
“So you kept it a secret,” I said slowly. “And your trip to Florence was…”
He smiled sadly. “A romantic getaway. Rose had been working so hard, I
wanted to treat her.” Cas leaned back in his chair with a rather annoying self-satisfied smile.
“Florence is an odd choice though,” I remarked, turning back to Hargreaves. Cas sat up and looked at me. “I mean, if you work for a major religious organisation, it’s a pretty religious city. Surely there might have been people there who would have recognised you, if not her?”
Hargreaves took a drink, watching me over the rim of his glass. “It was her idea. She’d mentioned she wanted a few days off to visit Florence, so I thought it would be a nice trip for both of us.”
“No, of course. I mean, for a theologian like her, I bet wandering through those dusty churches and refectories was the perfect date for her.”
Hargreaves smiled. “Actually, we didn’t visit anything like that. We took a trip to a lovely village on the wine route and did a wine tasting, then the next day we strolled around the city, spending most of our time at the Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore. I bought her ice cream at a nearby gelato.”
I smiled warmly at him. “That sounds lovely, and it does sound like my mother was very happy. But weren’t you worried someone would see you?”
He shrugged. “I arranged a meeting in Rome for our last day. Business as usual, chatting to a few of my contacts and strengthening some relationships. Rose spent the day on the beach. It was unseasonably warm, I remember, though I don’t believe she went swimming.” He smiled for a moment, then it faded and he looked at me. “Will you believe me now when I tell you I am doing everything I can to find your mother?”
I nodded and stood up. “I believe you, and I’m sorry I doubted you. Please forgive me for barging in like that. I’m just so on edge with her disappearance.”
Nephilim the Awakening (Wrath of the Fallen Book 1) Page 17