by Barbara Taub
Leila put her arm around Gaby and drew her down to a nearby bench. “I think we must be here for a particular reason.” She pulled Gaby around to face her. “And I’m so sorry but … shouldn’t we think twice before involving your brother and sister in something that might get them killed?”
The unspoken words, “Like Luic,” hung between them. Gaby wrapped her arms around her stomach and folded forward over them. Her shoulders shook, but when she sat up, her eyes were dry and her lips were pressed together in a firm, straight line. “Then we figure out what we’re here for and next-thing it.”
“Well, as long as we’re here…” Leila’s voice was elaborately casual. “We might as well talk things over in a civilized manner.”
“I know you well enough now.” Gaby smiled weakly. “This involves coffee, doesn’t it?”
“Not just coffee. Paradise.”
Soon they were entering a Starbucks across from Pike Place Market. “This was the first one,” Leila read to Gaby from a plaque by the door. “Actually, Starbucks’ first store was a couple blocks away, but they moved here a few years later. And…”
“In the immortal words of Leila: focus!” Gaby was laughing at last. When they realized they were heading to the 1990s, Gaby and Leila had pooled the few remaining dollars each had carried when they caught the Metro to the past. Now Leila was standing at the counter handing them over and speaking what sounded to Gaby like a prayer in a foreign language. “Grande Caramel Macchiato light. No—make it a venti.”
She carried the cup to an empty table, closed her eyes, sipped, and moaned.
Gaby spent a few moments arranging the objects on the tabletop. Leila’s side: napkin/latte/stir-stick. Gaby’s side: pencil/ notebook/ emergency backup pencil.
“Ready?” Leila reached for the coffee, and Gaby glared at her until she pulled the cup’s thermal wrap off and used it to anchor the napkin and stir-stick. Leila held up her hand and took one more sip. She nodded.
“Okay.” Gaby consulted her notebook. “One thing that we know will occur soon is your parents are going to meet and fall in love, and then they’re going to…”
“Please.” Leila shuddered. “Don’t make me throw up. I’ve been waiting for a long time for this espresso. In Latte’s Inferno, Pete always has too heavy a hand with the vanilla syrup.”
“Didn’t you say nobody knows how your mother got her jewelry?” Gaby looked up from her lists. “I think it’s our next-thing. What kind of identification would we need to get to France?”
“Passports and drivers’ licenses.” Leila took another sip. “Credit cards too.”
Gaby led the way to a small pawn shop off Pioneer Square. “I can’t believe Eric’s store is still here!” Her voice was wistful. “I went here a lot in the first couple of years after my parents died. Eric was my Dad’s friend. He’s pretty honest, and even better, he keeps his mouth shut. If he’s still running the store, I know we can trust him.” Leila, who had never seen the inside of a pawn shop, poked around happily as Gaby approached the graying man at the counter. “Eric?”
He looked up and his eyes widened. “Gabrielle Parker?” Even with the gray in his once-red hair, Eric was still a huge bear of a man whose generous tattoos, long hair, and beard could scare people. But he’d been there for Gaby and the twins, especially after her parents died.
“No, that was my mother. She said to look you up if I was ever in Seattle.” She told him she had friends who needed to get out of town quickly and might need identification. He looked at her carefully and then wrote an address on a piece of paper. As she turned to leave, he put a hand on her shoulder and asked if there was any way he could help. Gaby impulsively hugged him and told him he’d helped her “mother” so many times in past years, but she really didn’t want him involved in what was going on now. He took a breath and looked at her carefully. “I think you are Gabrielle Parker. And I think your trouble is with Haven.”
Gaby sat down. “You knew? You knew all along?”
Leila came over and put her arm around Gaby. She looked at Eric. “Are we okay?”
Gaby explained they needed to get out of Seattle right away because of Haven. Eric went to the door of his shop and turned around the CLOSED sign. “I couldn’t help your parents when they were killed.” His eyes held remembered anger and sadness. “But I owe it to them to do what I can for you.”
He took half their stash of Raymond’s gold coins, raising his eyebrows as he pronounced them antique doubloons worth a fortune. He didn’t keep that much cash on hand, but he gave them what he had and promised to discretely convert the rest to cash and send the proceeds to them as soon as they were settled. Then he insisted on taking them to the address he’d given Gaby. The next day, armed with passports and drivers licenses in the names of Gabrielle and Leila Price, they were on a flight to France.
GABY AND LEILA, Chapter Sixteen
1994, France
“Hey, Gabs!” Leila dropped a large box onto Gaby’s meticulously arranged desk. “Our new running shoes are here. And have you seen the Anderson prospectus?”
“Ow!” she added as the folder smacked across the back of her head.
“I’ve warned you about calling me Gabs.” Tossing the Anderson folder onto Leila’s desk, Gaby opened her package and pulled out the new shoes. “And I’ve finished looking at Anderson. Their numbers sounded good, but something kept nagging at me. My digging shows their properties in California are in trouble and will probably be closed down if they can’t get new investment money right away.”
“I thought so.” With a satisfied pat to the Anderson folder, Leila turned her attention to the spreadsheet open on her computer. “I say we offer sixty percent of their asking price and make the California investment. I promise you, this is going to keep you in Bodies-by-Bill exercise tapes for a long time. Although I’m not so sure about $240 running shoes.”
“That’s $240 including tax and shipping,” Gaby pointed out. “And you’re the one who insisted we get these; for most of my life, that would have paid for my entire wardrobe. For that much of my money, these things should fly.”
“Now I remember.” Leila reached into the box and held up the second pair of shoes. “They match my running clothes.”
“You know, it’s not fair.” Gaby laced up the shoes. “The only exercise you get is going into the village for a coffee, but people look at us and think you’re the one who works out.”
Leila smirked. “Must be my demonic DNA.”
Gaby took a few experimental strides in the new running shoes and frowned out the windows of their small home office. They were living in a tiny, sunny villa outside of Aix, close enough to Fontaine Hantée to get familiar with the location without risk of being identified. There was no view to speak of, but for the past four years the space had effectively been home to the “sisters”, Leila and Gabrielle Price, and to Price’s Right, their little investment business. Eric had come through as promised with the money from the sale of Raymond’s antique doubloons, and he kept in touch with updates on the situation in Seattle. Gaby shook her head at the memory of how hard she’d worked back in Seattle, a new accountant trying to make enough to take care of herself and the twins. Now, although they’d certainly had their failures, the little business she and Leila had started was growing steadily. Leila’s business flair combined with her own careful groundwork and fueled by the technology boom of the nineties—not to mention Raymond’s doubloons—meant they were steadily prospering.
For entertainment, they watched videos and fought about the relative superiority of Star Wars—Gaby—versus Star Trek—Leila. Leila introduced Gaby to the Evil Overlord List, and it became so central to their conversations they simply referred to each item by its EO number. Number thirty four was their favorite—I will not turn into a snake. It never helps.
“I know that glare.” Coming up behind her, Leila put a hand on Gaby’s arm. “You heard from the investigators?”
“It’s the same story. They c
an’t find any sign of Harry or the twins.”
“Our business is doing well enough.” Leila gave Gaby a quick hug and turned back to her desk. “We can afford to hire more investigators if you think it will help.”
Gaby shook her head. “We’ve had people looking for four years, and they haven’t found a trace. With the date of your birth approaching, I think we’re out of time. I’m going to ask Eric to help me contact Null City.”
A few days later a call came into their business office. “Is this Prices’ Right Investments? My name is Emily, and I’m thinking of investing on behalf of my cousin, Gaby Parker.”
Leila handed the phone to Gaby and quietly left the room. When Emily told her she couldn’t talk for more than a minute because the call could be intercepted, Gaby asked quickly if she could arrange tickets on the 1891 Metro.
Emily sounded sad but said it wouldn’t be possible because her connection to Metro had been so erratic lately. “I think the longer it takes you to finish your job, the worse that’s going to get.” Emily went on to say she didn’t have the information Gaby was looking for regarding other relatives, but she wanted to relay disturbing news. There was a new leader of Haven who was said to be gathering forces for an upcoming—and potentially devastating—campaign. “Gaby.” There was sympathy and sadness in Emily’s quiet voice. “Our sources say that leader is Luic.”
When Leila came back, Gaby was sitting in white-faced shock. Leila came over and put an arm around her friend. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Gaby stared blindly at the phone. “Luic. My fault.” She could barely whisper the words. “He must have blamed me. Now he’s one of the leaders of Haven. I told him they killed my parents. He must hate me so much. And he…”
“Okay, the umps have called this one.” Leila held up both hands in a classic T. “I’ve let you have a wonderful time in pity-Gaby-land for the past five years. Now I want you to tell me. Did you kill Luic on purpose?”
“Of course not, but…”
“That was a rhetorical question. Don’t interrupt.” Leila put both hands on Gaby’s shoulders and turned her until their faces were inches apart. “Now, did you want him dead? Feel good that he died? Wish you could go back and kill him all over again?”
Gaby opened her mouth, but Leila held up one hand. “More rhetorical questions. And the answer to all of them is that anyone—including Luic—who thinks that’s true must be even more pathetically delusional than you’ve been for the past five years. So poor Luic just couldn’t take a bit of accidental dying and had to start playing for the other team? Then he isn’t the man you fell in love with.”
Leila shook her briskly. “Look at me.” Obediently Gaby pulled her head back a few inches until tearful brown eyes met determined green ones. “I drove my boyfriend away with my anger issues, and I haven’t heard from him in five friggin’ years.” Her eyes glowed faintly. “But do you hear me sitting around moaning about how unfair the world is?”
“Well, yes, actually…”
“Right.” Leila straightened her shoulders and held out a hand. “Then I say we make a deal. It’s time we both cut our losses, move on, and get back to saving the world.” Gaby looked at her for a long moment before sitting up straight herself. When their hands met, both were steady.
Next morning, Gaby was back at her desk. She shrugged off Leila’s inquiring look, turned to face her computer, and pulled up the Anderson spreadsheets. Her voice, when she spoke, was matter of fact. “My brother Connor told me I didn’t fit with Luic. I knew he didn’t match any of the things I wanted—a normal life with a family and work I love. And I told myself that somehow I could give him the unconditional love and acceptance he only got from Harry. But I never stopped to think … Luic might need more than I could give him. He lives between frozen lows and burning highs, but harmonia like me need balance in the middle.”
Gaby met Leila’s eyes. “Somehow, this is my get-out-of-Hell-free card. Someday I might see the twins again. Somewhere there might be a man who does want the same things I do. You and I still have a job to do, and I just can’t look back anymore.” The following week, they closed the deal in California. The same day, they heard Eric had been killed in what police were calling a robbery attempt.
Over the past four years, Gaby and Leila had endlessly discussed how and when to contact Leila’s birth mother, Suzanne Marsaut, only agreeing it should be as close to Leila’s birth date as possible. While that was still months off, even as they grieved the loss of the big man who had been such a good friend, they realized they might be running out of time. Within the hour, Gaby and Leila were packed and heading to Fontaine Hantée in a small rental car.
Leila looked surprised when the road, which would stop at Fontaine Hantée in the future village, now continued up to the Chateau as a graveled but drivable path. She looked at Gaby, put the car back in gear, and kept driving up the hill. At the top, she parked the little car and looked at the Chateau looming over them. “Looks a lot better with all the lights on.” As they went up the path to the front door, the sounds of laughter and music filled the night. “Raymond,” came a woman’s voice. “Faites attention!”
A voice Gaby recognized replied in a low murmur of French. Leila hesitated. “I think I’m going to be sick.” Gaby laughed, looped an arm around her shoulders, and dragged her to the door. When the young redhead answered and looked inquiringly at them, Raymond smiled from behind her. “Suzanne, I’d like to introduce a relative of mine. This is Leila Rice and her friend, Gabrielle Parker. I haven’t seen them in many years and wasn’t at all sure they would make it in time.”
Leila’s voice was dangerously sweet. “In time for what, Raymond?”
“Our wedding is tomorrow.” He grinned. “How lucky that you’ll be able to attend.”
An hour later, they were back in Raymond’s hotel. He’d booked rooms for each of them, but the three were gathered in his room. “Where did you go?” He looked genuinely upset. “We couldn’t find any trace of you.”
“The Metro brought us to 1990, and we’ve been here ever since.” Leila impatiently waved off his concern. “But you … married? I thought your plan was a quick donation and then back to Hell. Don’t you remember she’s going to die? On my birthday?”
After waving them onto the room’s small sofa, Raymond had taken possession of the only armchair with his usual elegant grace. To Gaby’s surprise, he lurched clumsily to his feet and turned blindly toward the window. His hands settled in a white-knuckled grip on the window ledge.
“I loved being a Prince of Heaven.” Even with his back to them, Gaby knew from his growl that his eyes were glowing. “Did you know I was the Angel of Hope? But first, foremost, and always, I was Samyaza’s second-in-command. When his army wanted to be with human lovers, Sam said we should all go together. So I fell. Others had their human mates, if only for a moment. They knew love and they felt joy. I fell, and for that I was made their jailer for seventy-seven generations. Even after that punishment ended, I was still there in my own prison—the Angel of Hope now Prince of the Fallen.”
The growl faded, and his voice was soft. “And then I met Suzanne. I thought … no, I didn’t think. I knew: she’s my one chance. Every moment with her is perfect. And every moment is torture because it means one less moment she has to live. So yes, I’m going to marry her. I’m going to spend every second of available time with her. We don’t need to have a child right away. She’s Nephilim; she could live forever. If I’m careful, it could take years before she gets pregnant. And even if she does…”
“Ramiel.” Leila went to him and put her arms around him. “Father. My birth date is in seven months. She’s already more than two months pregnant.”
It was a beautiful wedding. Suzanne’s bridesmaid was her younger sister Cécile. Raymond’s best man was Sam, of course.
From their seat near the back, Leila turned to Gaby and groaned. “Shoot me. Please. It’s bad enough I have to watch my Donors get married. But look ov
er there.” She pointed to a family sitting in the front pew on the other side of the aisle. “See that baby? I’m pretty sure he’s Thomas. And right next to him is his stick-up-his-butt grandfather, Sebastian.”
“Cute baby.”
Leila moaned again. But Gaby noticed when Raymond took Suzanne in his arms and kissed her, Leila had tears in her eyes.
The wedding breakfast was held in the Grande Galerie of the Chateau. Leila’s eyes widened as she took in the expanse of windows, mirrors, polished furniture, and vases of flowers everywhere. “You know, this really would make a great hotel.”
They danced with Sam; first Leila in silence and then with Gaby providing both sides of the conversation. Sam was actually smiling as they headed back to their table, where Raymond and Suzanne were talking with a bemused Leila. As Gaby sat down, she heard Leila take a shuddering, gasping breath. Concerned, she touched her friend’s hand and then followed her gaze to the tall, fair-haired young man standing in the doorway. He was shrugging into his dinner jacket with casual, self-assured elegance as he glanced around the room.
“Thomas,” breathed Leila. Then with a shriek, Leila was running to the door and throwing herself into his open arms. “Thomas!” He swung her up as the door closed behind them.
“May I have this dance?” Turning, Gaby saw Sebastian Chapel, the young-old man Leila said was actually Thomas’ grandfather. “I have a few questions about that couple.”
Gaby sighed and stood up.
Next morning, Gaby heard knocking on the door of her hotel room. Pulling on a sweatshirt and jeans, she opened the door to find Thomas and Leila. “Thomas needs to refuel,” Leila informed her. “We’ll be out on the terrace if you want to join us.”
Gaby watched in awe as vast quantities of food disappeared from Thomas’ plate.
“You don’t actually ever get used to it.” Leila slapped his hand as he reached for her croissant. “I know he’s a giant, genetic deformity, but I still can’t figure out where all the food goes.”