Authors: Catherine Vale
Angela hesitated for a moment,
then stepped back with a nod to let him do it. She watched as he laid his hand
on the doorknob, then closed his eyes and muttered some kind of short
incantation under his breath. The lock glowed briefly, then popped open with a
quiet
click.
Cole opened the door, then
stood back and gestured for her to go inside. “After you.”
Angela stepped inside a lobby
that had seen better days, with mirrored walls that were chipped around the
edges and black and white tiling that was yellowed with age and in bad need of
replacement, or at the very least a cleaning and a wax. She eyed the mud-brown
elevator shaft standing off to the left with distrust, then opted for the
carpeted stairs that zigzagged up the ten flights.
She couldn’t even hear Cole
behind her as she trotted up to the fifth floor – he was that quiet
– but she could feel his hot stare on her ass, and she blushed, thankful
he couldn’t see her face. A wicked part of her wanted to turn around and wink
at him, or do something to throw him off, and that was a testament to just how
much havoc he was wreaking on her hormones because that was so
wildly
inappropriate
considering the situation they were in.
Get a grip, girl. Your
partner’s in mortal danger right now. Kill the libido switch, stat.
Getting off the staircase
provided some relief, since Cole’s eyes now had the chance to stare at
something other than her ass. She let his eyes wander along the yellowed walls
and the ratty, navy blue carpeting beneath their feet as she led him over to
apartment 503, and tried not to wrinkle her nose at the faint stench of weed,
urine and sweat that had soaked into the very fabric of the building –
nothing a human would smell, but unfortunately her sensitive nose picked up on
it right away.
“Hang on,” he said as she
lifted her hand to press the buzzer. He muttered an incantation, and suddenly
his eyes, normally a beautiful violet color, blazed a bright, unearthly blue,
startling the scowl straight off her face and making her forget the protest
she’d been about to snap at him for being stopped a second time. His eyes
scanned the walls back and forth for a few seconds, and then he blinked them,
and the color faded away, back to his normal violet hue. “There’s no one in
there.”
“What?” She struggled to sound
annoyed, but couldn’t quite manage to scrub the tinge of awe from her tone.
“How do you know?”
“Spirit signature spell.”
Brushing past her, he laid a hand on the doorknob and muttered the same
incantation from earlier to gain entrance. “It allows me to spot any living
beings inside a building, and is much more reliable than simply tracking heat
signatures.”
“No kidding,” Angela mumbled
as she followed Cole inside. “So it works on animals too?”
He nodded. “Even plants,” he
said as his eyes scanned the empty apartment. “All living organisms are powered
by spiritual energy, even if they don’t all have souls.”
Angela let that tidbit of
information sink into her mind as she took in the sorry state of Marcus’s
apartment. The smell of stale pizza and Chinese food assailed her nostrils
immediately, layered over the smell of unwashed laundry, and the environment
around her confirmed it, she noted as her eyes rapidly adjusted to the
darkness. Boxes of takeout littered the kitchen counters, the living room sofa
and table, and even the bedside table and dresser next to the bed shoved into
the corner. The blinds of the sole double-paned window in the apartment,
located above the bed on the far wall, were open, allowing the rays of the half
moon full access in helping to illuminate the apartment, so neither Angela or
Cole bothered turning on a light. No point in attracting extra attention,
right?
As she and Cole shuffled
through the debris littering the surfaces of the studio and checked drawers and
shelves for any useful clues, Angela’s mind kept churning back to the way Cole
used his magic. Though she’d definitely seen Raina unlock doors with
incantations before, she’d never seen her use a ‘spirit signature spell’
before. It made her wonder what else Cole had up his sleeve.
“Just how old are you,
exactly?” she asked as she flipped through a pile of magazines, mostly
consisting of
Sports Illustrated
and
Playboy
.
Men.
Species
to species, some things never changed.
“Running somewhere on
two-thousand years old,” Cole answered nonchalantly.
“Two thousand?”
she choked, the stack of
magazines in her hands landing on the dirty coffee table with a loud, dusty
thunk.
She opened her mouth to say more, but Cole snatched up something off a
table and held it up to the moonlight.
“Tickets to a horse race down
at Golden Gate Fields in Berkeley,” he crowed, his violet eyes glowing
triumphantly. “These are the third ones I’ve found, and all different dates.
I’ll bet you if we look around you’d find more, but my guesses are that he’s a
regular at the races. Maybe even a bookie, taking bets on the side.”
Angela’s eyes narrowed. “That
reads right.” She pursed her lips. “But I doubt we’ll find him there right
now.”
Cole shook his head. “Not
unless there are supernaturals running races down there after dark?”
Angela shook her head as well.
“No, not anymore. We have patrols that run regularly by that area now. They’re
extra vigilant ever since that scandal a couple years back where vampires were
running and betting on races between Fae creatures, and a human stumbled in on
the scene.”
A headache began throbbing at her temples at the reminder of
that nightmare – they’d been cleaning up for months after that fuck up,
and she doubted the Order’s PR department had slept at all during that time.
“Why
don’t you check in with patrol and see if there’s any suspicious activity down
there,” Cole suggested. “If not, we’ll check out the track in the morning.”
A
quick phone call confirmed that there was no activity down by the track.
Angela’s heart sank a little as she hung up the phone. “I don’t want to give
up,” she said quietly, feeling like she was a huge failure already though she
knew how stupid that was. No one expected her to find Raina this fast, and yet…
Cole’s
eyes softened, and he reached out to squeeze her shoulder. Heat flooded through
her at the contact, but he didn’t pull away though he was sure to sense the
change in her breathing. “We’re not giving up,” he said softly. “We’re just
regrouping a little. You need your strength if you’re going to give it your all
tomorrow in finding Raina.”
Angela
hesitated, guilt swamping her at the thought of turning in while Raina was
still out there, alone and at the mercy of her brother, for God’s sake. “We
could go after the vampire, she began.”
Cole jerked his head sharply
to the left, a loud and clear
negative.
“There’s no way we’re visiting a
vampire’s coterie in the dead of night to shake him down for information. Not
as you are now. We’d be better off going after him during daylight hours, if we
still need him after we’re done with the shifter.”
Angela bit her lip, wanting to
argue, but having nothing good to say. The truth was that exhaustion was
creeping in, slowing her thought process and making her far too edgy to proceed
rationally, especially since this whole kidnapping thing had already taken an
emotional toll on her anyway.
“You’re
right,” she finally said with a sigh, taking far too much comfort in the warmth
seeping from his hand on her shoulder, and into her weary body. She moved
toward the doorway, letting his hand slip from her shoulder before she gave
into the desire to lean into his big, hard-looking body. “Let’s go home.”
Racetrack
tickets in hand, they returned to the Camaro, and she gave him directions to
her apartment in the Mission District. “Sorry I’m so weak,” she muttered,
leaning her head back against the seat as she gazed out the window. “I wish we
could just keep going.”
Cole
laughed softly. “You’re not weak,” he said, reaching out and patting her hand.
“You just don’t have thousands of years of endurance training that I do. Give
yourself a couple centuries before you start beating yourself up. Then you
might have a reason for it.”
Silence
descended upon them, more comfortable than the last one, and Angela looked down
at her hands, noting that Cole had elected to keep his there. Her heart began
to beat a little faster, wondering if he intended to move things further along
between them, and whether or not that was something she even wanted. She knew
for
sure
that it was wrong for her to even be thinking about sex when
her friend was in danger, but she couldn’t help it; it had been so long since
she’d last run into a male she was attracted to that she almost didn’t remember
what it had been like.
Yeah,
and the one time in forever that you do run into someone, he happens to be
someone you can’t have. Go Angela.
She sighed. Truthfully, there
was no way she could have a lasting relationship with Cole; their lifestyles
were just too different, with him being a nomad, and her having a highly
committed career. But there was no denying the sexual attraction; she felt his
pulse jump as well, and knew that even this small amount of skin contact was
affecting him, too.
Would
it really be so wrong to pass up the chance to make love again? To feel the
heat of a lover’s caress, the sensation of skin gliding against skin, the sound
of a male voice moaning her name…
Cole
cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “You know, you’ve really got to stop
doing that.”
Angela
blinked up at him. He was sitting stiffly behind the wheel, his brows drawn
together in consternation. “Doing what?”
“Thinking…
whatever it is that you’re thinking that’s making you so horny.” He turned to
look at her, his violet gaze so full of heat that it scorched her even more
with desire. “It’s hard to concentrate on traffic when all I can think about is
getting you naked.”
Angela
swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. “That’s gotta be the weirdest reprimand
anyone’s ever given me.”
Cole
laughed as he pulled up to her building, but it was strained. “Maybe, but it’s
true. I… it’s been too long since I… never mind.” He unlocked the passenger’s
side door with the flick of a button. “I’ll call you in the morning.”
Angela
reached for the door handle, then looked back at Cole with a frown. “You’re not
coming up?”
Cole
gave her a bewildered look. “I assumed I was renting a hotel.”
Angela
bit her lip. They were definitely less likely to sleep together if he did that,
which was a plus point, and yet… “I think due to the nature of this assignment
that it’s best if we stick as close together as possible,” she said. “I have a
spare mattress I can inflate for you.”
Cole
stared at her for a long moment. “You really want me sleeping in your living
room?”
“Why
wouldn’t I?” Angela frowned. “We’re working together, and I doubt you’ll get
your payment if you murder me in my sleep, so I think I’m reasonably safe with
you.” She winked.
Cole
snorted. “If you say so.” He killed the engine, then popped the trunk and went
around the back to grab his luggage. Angela waited for him to sling the single
duffle bag over his shoulder – clearly he packed light – before
leading him up the stairs and into the apartment complex.
Her
one bedroom was located on the third floor, and while it was considerably
cleaner than Marcus’s studio, it wasn’t really much bigger. The open floor plan
definitely help make it seem more spacious, though, with the kitchen off to her
left and the dining area to her right, leaving a path straight through to the
living room where she kept a small flat screen, a love seat, and a bean bag
chair.
Cole
winced when he saw the couch. “I’m definitely going to be needing that spare
mattress.”
Angela
laughed a little, trying to imagine Cole scrunching up his huge frame on her
cozy little love seat. “I’ll go get it set up for you. Why don’t you make yourself
comfortable on the couch? You can help yourself to whatever in the fridge,” she
said with a shrug, knowing there wasn’t too much in there. If he ate her out of
house and home it served her right – she needed to go shopping anyway.
“Sure,
thanks.”
She
retrieved the blow up mattress and the electric pump that went with it, then
dragged them out into the living room. Cole had already moved the coffee table
aside to make room for the mattress, and was sitting in the beanbag chair,
staring out the window at the Golden Gate Bridge, its lights making it glow
like a beacon in the darkness. That view of the Bridge was the main reason
she’d picked this apartment even though there were slightly nicer ones in the
area for the same price – when she was up late at night, with too many
thoughts crowding the space inside her skull, she could look out the window and
just allow all her worries to float away, as she gazed out at the Bridge.