by Sylvia Day
Without hesitation, Gray Man climbed in and they set off. Alec shouted something after them and Eve winced inwardly. She knew he was pissed at her, but she thought it best to dance to Gadara’s tune for a bit and see what “shook out,” as Alec said. She’d been marked in Gadara’s building, after he stood her up. Since Alec insisted that there were no coincidences, Eve thought it was necessary to go back to the beginning. If the only way to do that was to go alone, so be it. She wasn’t helpless; not with her new super skills. Clueless about being marked, maybe, but not helpless. And Alec would be only a step or two behind her.
Fear didn’t enter into the equation. Or maybe she was scared to death and her brain was too scrambled by shock to notice. Without the accompanying physical reactions it was impossible to tell. She was grateful for that, since the lack of emotion kept her mind clear.
Reaching up, Eve removed the elastic restraining her hair and ran her fingers through the mass. Luckily, she had inherited her mother’s thick locks, which seldom tangled too greatly.
“How did you know I wasn’t at work?” she asked, taking a lame stab a conversation.
Gray Man’s face split with his grimace-smile that made him look more constipated than pleasant. He said nothing.
“Is Mr. Gadara going on vacation?” she prodded. “Or is he leaving for a business trip?”
Again, nothing.
Eve refastened her hair and looked out the window at the passing scenery. Despite the uncomfortable silence, the trip to Gadara Tower passed swiftly. That was no doubt due to the traffic lights on Beach Boulevard, which stayed green for them 100 percent of the time. She had barely gathered her thoughts when the limousine drew to a halt outside the revolving front doors. Foot traffic was steady as usual.
As Eve followed Gray Man out of the car, she lamented her lack of heels and suit. She would have felt armored then. In jeans and a T-shirt—and reeking like a demon—she felt worse than naked.
They crossed the packed foyer on their way to the glass tube elevators. Unlike the last time she was here, she found the sickly sweet fragrance of the atrium flowers almost nauseating. She concentrated hard on turning off her Spider-Man sense of smell but it didn’t work. And then something else drew her attention.
The door to the stairwell where she had been marked.
Memories hit her in a rapid-fire series of heated images. She could smell Reed’s scent in her nostrils and feel his rough touch on her skin. The recollections were both disturbing and a turn-on.
She growled low in her throat. Her libido was now officially a royal pain in the ass.
“This way, Ms. Hollis,” Gray Man said, gesturing to an elevator that was separated from the others.
Looking away from the past and ahead to the future, Eve began to notice the number of stares directed her way. They were prolific. She tugged surreptitiously at the hem of her shirt and lifted her chin. When the elevator doors closed behind her, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Gray Man inserted a key into a lock in the panel and the car shot to the top without pause. She looked down at the atrium below, watching normal-size people shrink into teeny ants. So industrious. So inconsequential. Is that what she looked like to God? Is that why he didn’t care that he had set her life spinning like a top?
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Eve turned and found herself looking directly into a massive, well-appointed office. An intricately carved mahogany desk was angled in the far corner, facing the bank of windows on the opposite side. Two brown leather chairs faced the desk, a fire crackled in the fireplace, and a portrait of the Last Supper decorated the space above the mantel.
“Ms. Hollis. So glad you could come on such short notice.”
Her head turned to find Gadara. He faced away from her, his attention on a file he read directly from a filing cabinet built into the wall. He returned the file to its place, then closed it. The drawer front settled into a clever wooden facade that looked like a wooden chest of drawers.
“Mr. Gadara.”
“Please, call me Raguel.” He faced her and smiled.
She had seen photos of him, but they didn’t do him justice. Dressed casually in a guayabera and linen slacks, Gadara was no less imposing than he would have been in a suit and tie. He was African American, his skin espresso dark, his salt-and-pepper hair cropped short, his cheekbones dotted with sunspots. His eyes were dark and ancient.
He assessed her from head to toe, then gave a nod that seemed approving. “I apologize for missing our last appointment.”
Her mouth curved slightly. He couldn’t sound less apologetic if he tried.
Gadara’s eyes narrowed when she did not reply. “Do you still want the job?”
“The position as described would be a dream come true. I’m sure you know that.”
He gestured toward one of the chairs set before his desk. When she was seated, he rounded the corner and settled opposite her. His pose was deceptively relaxed, as if this was a social visit. He had one ankle crossed over the opposite knee and his forearms rested lightly on the armrests. But his gaze was as sharp as a hawk’s and when he picked up a remote control from his desktop, she grew wary.
“I am not certain breaking into my construction site today was advisable then,” he drawled, pushing a button that lowered a screen over the windows, blocking out the light and providing the canvas for a projection.
As images of her accessing the computer at the tengu site flashed in guilty testimony, Eve froze.
Gadara smiled. “I could have you arrested.”
She pulled herself together. “If you wanted to do that, you would have done so already.”
“True.”
“So what do you want?”
His voice came with a sharp edge. “I want you to do your job the way you are supposed to.”
Eve’s erratic emotions kicked in with gusto. Her mouth spit out words before her brain fully caught on. “I don’t work for you—yet—Mr. Gadara.”
“You have been working for me for eight days now, a circumstance I am beginning to regret.”
“Eight days?” She stood, unable to contain her sudden restlessness. She wasn’t anxious so much as antagonized, and she was quickly learning that her new disposition didn’t take well to antagonism.
“You are a loose cannon, Ms. Hollis, and that is the last thing I need in my firm.”
“Your firm?”
Eve remembered her conversation with Reed at the beach. Think of it as a bail bond agency. An archangel becomes responsible for bringing them in—like a bail bondsman.
Was Gadara the archangel? She suddenly felt dizzy.
The phone on Gadara’s desk beeped a subdued tone. He picked up the receiver. “Yes?” Satisfaction lit his dark eyes. “Send him in.”
Glancing at the door, Eve fully expected Alec to enter, yet she was still oddly surprised when he did. Over six feet of aggravated, windblown male.
“Raguel,” he barked, tossing a dark glare at Eve. “I don’t appreciate you sending for my Mark without me.”
“I wanted to see if she would defy you, Cain, and if you would be able to stop her if she did. Regrettably, you both failed to follow orders.”
The screen retracted into the ceiling and the dimmed lights brightened. But not before Alec caught a glimpse of the matinee.
“You better find a tactic beyond intimidation,” Alec warned. “That might work on other novices, but not this one.”
She glanced back and forth between the two, feeling like she was myopic and unable to see the picture everyone else was looking at. However, one thing was painfully clear—Alec and Gadara knew each other quite well. Which couldn’t be good.
“What’s going on?” she queried.
“You violated one of the most basic tenets of initiation,” Gadara said to Alec. “Taking a Mark out in the field prior to training—”
“We weren’t in the field.”
Gadara stood, thrusting both hands down on the table. The sudden break in his
nonchalance was frightening. “Bullshit. She stinks like demon. Whether the assignment was sanctioned or not is moot.”
“I can’t leave her alone; Infernals are all over her. She’s too vulnerable.”
“You should have asked her handler for help.”
“I would have, if I’d known who it is.”
“I thought that was obvious. Abel will manage her.”
“Are you shitting me? After the way he marked her?”
“Perhaps you would like to watch the tape?” Gadara asked silkily. “The marking was not as one-sided as you might choose to believe.”
“There’s a tape?” Eve croaked, knowing she’d be blushing to the roots of her hair if her physical reactions worked the way they used to.
Alec growled, his fists clenching. “I’ll take you down, Raguel. I’m not one of your pawns.”
“No.” Gadara smiled. “But she is.”
Alec tensed.
Eve stepped up. “I want that tape.”
“He’s got your life in his hands,” Alec bit out, “and you want a sex tape?”
“Yeah.” She scowled at Gadara. “If you don’t want me around, let me go. I won’t complain.”
“He’s not going to do that.” Alec’s tone was too subdued.
“How do you know?”
“Because you and I are a package deal, and having God’s personal enforcer on his team is a coup he wouldn’t give up for anything.”
“Damn it!” she groused. “You are more trouble than you’re worth, you know that?”
“I come with benefits, if you get around to using them. Besides, the best he can do is transfer you to another firm. Only God can free you completely.”
Eve pinned Gadara with a sharp glare. “I hate being in the dark. Explain the firm to me.”
Gadara gestured toward her vacated seat. “Sit down, Ms. Hollis, and I will explain—” he looked at Alec “—since your mentor has yet to.”
“Save your breath,” Alec said dryly. “You can’t put a wedge between us.” He tugged the second chair closer to hers and sank into it. He caught her hand and held it.
Gadara stared at the display of affection and settled back in his seat as if they had all the time in the world. “Just as Hell has various kings—”
“—Heaven has kingpins,” Alec finished.
“I resent that term,” Gadara complained.
“If the shoe fits . . .”
“It does not.”
“Uh-huh . . .”
Eve squeezed Alec’s hand in warning. “Keep going.”
Gadara’s brow arched at her tone. “The mark system is vast. It needs to be organized and self-sufficient. In order to accomplish that, capitalist ventures were launched that generated the income required to support a large number of Marks and their various activities within existing mortal society. Some ventures were more successful than others. In the end, seven of us rose to prominence. We are loosely divided by the seven continents, but we coordinate often, and those with larger areas share their burdens with those with smaller areas. For example, the African and Antarctica firms work in tandem.” He smiled, his teeth brilliantly white against the darkness of his skin. “I am responsible for the North American Marks. All twenty thousand of them.”
“Oh my God—Ouch!” She winced as her mark burned.
“Watch it,” the two men said in unison.
“So every one of those people in the atrium are Marks?” she muttered, setting her hand over her arm. “That’s why it reeks like the floor was washed in perfume?”
“Some of the people out there are mortals we do business with.”
“What about you?”
“I am an archangel, Ms. Hollis.”
She considered that a moment, then thought it best to question Alec about Gadara and not Gadara himself. “So I was assigned to your firm because I’m from North America?”
“No.” Gadara’s voice had a soothing, hypnotic quality. The more he spoke, the dreamier she felt. “Usually Marks are transplanted to make the transition easier. It is less traumatic to start a new life when you are not hampered by the old.”
“Why wasn’t that done with me?”
“Because of him.” The archangel motioned toward Alec with an elegant flick of his wrist. “He tried to get you released. When his request was denied, he asked that you be kept close to your family. I suspect he extorted someone somewhere to get what he wanted.”
Eve’s gaze turned to Alec, who looked straight ahead with his jaw visibly clenched. Her eyes stung.
“Quite a sacrifice,” Gadara purred. “Banished all these years and forced to roam. He could have uprooted you to his homeland. I am certain he misses it.”
“Shut up,” Alec rumbled. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her grip tightened on his hand in silent gratitude. “What happens now?”
“You work for me. Your resignation at The Weisenberg Group was effective yesterday after a week’s notice. Occasionally, your secular talents will be put to good use, but for the most part, your job is to train to the best of your ability and listen to your mentor, your handler, and me.”
“I listen to my gut,” she said. She wasn’t a believer and thought she should put that out there right away.
“I will not tolerate insubordination,” he retorted.
“Fine.” Eve shrugged. “Just so we’re clear.”
Gadara’s mouth curved in blatant challenge. The predatory expression didn’t suit him. He was far too refined, his voice too cultured, and his words too precise. “What were you looking for this afternoon?”
“A tengu.”
Gadara’s eyes widened. Alec explained. By the time he finished, Gadara was visibly upset.
“I thought you cared more about your novice,” the archangel chastised. “It was not your place to risk her so foolishly.”
“What risk?” Alec snorted. “She’s already been pissed on and threatened twice. There was more risk in doing nothing at all. And I told you, I can’t leave her alone. The Nix knows where she lives.”
“You are her mentor. If you wish to allow your feud with your brother to jeopardize your novice, far be it from me to intercede.” Gadara’s eyes took on an icy glint. “Proceed with your investigation, then. See it to its conclusion, including eradicating the threat.”
Eve frowned.
Alec exhaled harshly. “You want to assign her before she’s trained? No way.”
“It is your choice, Cain. Allow your brother to do his job or you will have to do it for him.”
“This isn’t your call. Abel is the only one who can assign her to a mission.”
Gadara laughed, a deep rolling sound. It was oddly pleasant, considering it wasn’t meant to be. “He is a company man, something you would do well to emulate.”
“You’re both violating protocol.” Alec’s tone was almost a snarl. “I expect that of you, but Abel? He’s never broken a rule in his life. You accuse me of putting her in danger, while Abel is ready to hang her out to dry?”
“It is perfectly acceptable to continue a deviation once it has been set in motion, if proceeding is the only reasonable course.”
“Eve and I didn’t deviate.”
“That is debatable, is it not? I doubt either of us wants to take this upstairs, where we could both face penalties. Better to deal with this on our own, agreed?”
Pushing to his feet, Alec towered over the desk. Although Gadara seemed unaffected, Eve noted the deepening grooves around his mouth and eyes.
Gadara feared Alec. She tucked that information away for future use.
“How is sending an untrained Mark on a hunt the ‘reasonable course’?” Alec asked with intemperate frustration.
“If the Infernals think she is hiding or that we are protecting her, they will go after her with a vengeance. With you as her mentor, she needs to be tougher than the average Mark. We cannot afford for her to look weak or frightened. We need to start as we mean to go on.”
>
“No.”
Eve stood. “I can handle it.”
Alec’s dark head swiveled toward her. “Angel—”
“I’ve got this.” She looked at Gadara. It wasn’t just the Infernals that needed to know she was tough.
“Good girl,” Gadara murmured approvingly.
“Don’t talk down to me,” she warned. “Anything else I should know? Or can I go? It’s been a long week.”
Gadara reached into a drawer and withdrew a set of keys. He tossed them to her. “Those will give you access to this building and to your office. All of your belongings from your old employer were moved here. You will be paid by direct deposit and an expense account has been created for you.”
“What are my hours?”
“They are 24/7. The office is a front; you will need it as part of your cover, but the field is where you will do the majority of your work. Your household expenses—mortgage, automobile, utilities, and so on—will be managed by the firm. You have also been tasked with the renovation of one of my casinos in Las Vegas. But we have several months before we get to that.”
Eve was so stunned it took her a moment to reply. “And here I thought only the devil traded dreams for souls.”
“Who do you think taught him everything he knows?” He lifted the lid of a wooden box on his desktop and withdrew a cigar. “All that you will need has been placed in your condominium.”
“You had someone in my house?” Her foot tapped rapidly on the carpet. “I don’t suppose your affiliation with my homeowners’ association is a coincidence?”
“There is no such thing as coincidence, Ms. Hollis.”
Alec caught her elbow. “We’re done here, then.”
“Not so fast,” she muttered. “I want that tape.”
“And I want world peace,” Gadara replied. “I would also like to smoke this cigar, but my body is a temple. We do not always get what we want.”
“We’ll see about that.” Eve smiled grimly and headed toward the elevator.
“Cain.”
A shiver moved through her at the sound of Alec’s name spoken in that cultured voice. The infamous Cain. Everyone knew his story. But having met both brothers, she knew there was far more to the tale than the few brief paragraphs mentioned in the canonized bible.