Dante's Angel (7 page)

Holding her
hands up in surrender, Zoe laughed. “I wouldn’t even think of it.”

Nikita grunted,
then studied Zoe for a moment. “You seem…off. What’s up with you?”

Zoe’s smile
wobbled a bit before it faded completely. “Actually, there is something I want
to talk to you about.” She quickly glanced toward the door to the shop before
adding, “But not here.”

To Zoe’s
surprise, Nikita didn’t start up the stairs to her apartment. Instead, she
walked over to the closet next to the kitchen and opened the door. She walked
in and went all the way to the back, avoiding the shelves that were full of
inventory for the tattoo parlor. Once at the back wall, Nikita pushed at the
third darkest brick from the top on the right-hand side. A hidden door pushed
open to reveal a stairwell that led downstairs.

Nikita
gestured to her. “Come on. Let’s go before someone heads back here.”

Intrigued, Zoe
stepped into the closet and moved forward to start down the hidden staircase. Lights
had automatically turned on as soon as the door had opened, allowing her to see
the thick metal stairs that went far below average basement level. Halfway down,
she paused to watch Nikita close the door at the top of the steps, then she moved
to the side to allow her friend to pass by her to lead the rest of the way down.

When they
reached the bottom of the stairwell, Zoe’s eyes widened as she watched Nikita
place her palm on a rectangular panel on the side of a metal door. The panel
lit up, flashing green and a loud clicking sound echoed in the stairwell as the
thick, metal door slid open.

What lay behind
the door was nothing like Zoe expected. Beyond the metal door was a spectacular
loft-like apartment with walls made of dark, wooden panels. There was a slate
gray stone floor that was covered by thick Persian rugs under heavy, leather
furniture in the living room area and partway under a huge bed covered with a
silk, maroon duvet cover at the far end of the room.

Wooden shelves
lined half of the right wall, filled with an amazing array of items that Zoe
could tell came from various places around the world. There was no doubt that
several of the items were priceless. Each piece was magnificent, highlighted by
can lighting pointing down from the ceiling so that every item seemed to glow
in the dim room.

In the center
was another door that had a control panel off to the side, and on the other
half of the wall was a shocking display of knives, swords and even a
double-edged battle ax that looked like it had been made centuries past. That
side was like a tribute of mass destruction, but it somehow seemed fitting in
Nikita’s living room.

“Holy shit,”
Zoe breathed out as she stood their gawking at the weapons.

Nikita smirked,
then simply shrugged. “I’m a collector.”

“I see,” Zoe
replied carefully. “And I bet you know how to use every single one.”

A simple “hmm”
was Nikita’s only response before she walked over to an open kitchen with a
black marble island and frosted glass cabinets. She took a bottle out of the
wine fridge, holding it up. “Sauvignon Blanc okay?”

“Sure.” Still
too dazed to say anything more, Zoe shifted to stare at the left side of the
room. Three large screens were mounted on the wall. All of the screens were set
to display an image of a beach bathed in moonlight. The soft sound of gentle
waves filled the room, making it seem as if Zoe were looking out of windows
instead of TV monitors, and it alleviated any feeling of claustrophobia that
would have come from being so far underground.

The moment Zoe
had walked into this subterranean refuge, she’d understood. This was where
Nikita really lived, not the cold, austere space upstairs. That was simply
camouflage. Secrets, she thought again. Whatever she was hiding was nothing
compared to the secrets that Nikita concealed about her own life.

Turning, Zoe eyed
her friend as she carried two large glasses of wine into the living room area. She
accepted a glass and took a seat. “This place is absolutely amazing.”

Nikita sat and
stretched out her long legs in front of her as she sipped her wine. “It’s home.”

Zoe nodded
slowly. “I can see that. So, upstairs is what, just for show?”

“Yep.”

“It’s obviously
something that you don’t show just anyone. Why allow me down here?”

Nikita set her
glass down on a side table next to the overstuffed chair she was sitting on.
Leaning forward, she braced her elbows on her knees and stared intently at Zoe.
“I can count the number of people that know about this place on one hand, but I
brought you here for two reasons. The first is because you mentioned you wanted
privacy. The second reason is a little more…complex. Despite being a bitch most
of the time, I do have a sense of fair play.” She paused for a moment before
saying, “I know who you really are…Zoe.”

Glad she was
sitting down, Zoe’s breath let in a rush as she swayed slightly. “H-how?”

Heaving out a
long sigh, Nikita leaned back in her chair and picked up her wine glass. “This
town is my home now. It’s a good place filled with decent people, some of whom
can be annoyingly cheerful and friendly. Despite that, I have certain habits
that are difficult to break.”

“I still don’t
understand,” Zoe said weakly.

“When we first
met, I did a background check on you. Hell, most of us are dealing with shit in
our pasts, but I could tell you were hiding something. Due to my background, I basically
don’t trust anyone, but added to that, when you became friends with Becca, I
needed to make sure you weren’t a threat to her,” Nikita said, mentioning her
twin sister. “I check out anyone who gets close to my sister. It’s my job to
keep her safe.”

“That’s a
little over the top, even for you.”

“Following
certain security protocols has kept me alive.” The tone of Nikita’s voice was
the equivalent of a casual shrug. “You might consider it an invasion of
privacy, but I make no apologies about doing whatever it takes to protect me
and mine.”

Zoe felt
utterly exposed, but the casual explanation that Nikita had given her helped
ease some of the panic racing through her. It didn’t matter if what Nikita did
was right or wrong. In her mind, she’d done what she thought she had to in
order to protect herself and her sister. Zoe could respect that, even if she
still felt slightly offended by Nikita digging into her past.

“Well…fuck.”

Nikita’s lips
twitched. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that.”

“So, you know everything?”

“You have a
right to your secrets, so I only dug until I got the gist of your situation.”

Gulping down
some of her wine, Zoe took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I don’t really
know what to say to all this. I mean, I came here because I wanted to talk to
you about…well, about all of this, but finding out that you already know is
sort of—”

“A mindfuck?”
Nikita chuckled, then she sobered and her expression turned serious. “You have
a decision now. You can either be pissed off about this, or let it go. It
changes nothing. For me, I don’t care how this all began. You’re my friend now—no
matter what name you choose to call yourself—and I don’t have too many people I
consider close enough to care about.”

“Oh, you have
more friends than you think, Niki.”

That had a
scowl settling on Nikita’s face. “I’m making an effort to be nice here. Are you
trying to piss me off?”

Zoe laughed,
and it felt good to do so. “I wouldn’t think of it. Even though you try to keep
yourself separate from everyone, people care about you and value your
friendship.”

Nikita
squirmed in her seat. “People need to learn to leave me the fuck alone.”

“Yeah, that’s
not going to happen. I think you just have to learn to deal with it.”

Sighing
heavily, Nikita sipped at her wine. “I’ll never be like everyone else, and I’m
good with that. Someone once diagnosed me with borderline sociopathic
tendencies.” She waved off Zoe’s protest before continuing. “I don’t feel bad
about making people angry, or lose sleep over the things I’ve done. I guess you
could say that I don’t have the same moral compass other people do. I have a certain
skill set that separates me from most people, but I can be a damn good friend
to have if you’re in trouble.”

“I’m not—” Zoe
cut herself off with a shake of her head. “That was stupid. Of course I’m in
trouble. But I can’t talk about that. Not yet.”

She’d come to
Nikita prepared to talk to her about everything, but now that she was here, she
found that she couldn’t. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her friend, because
she did. It was more the issue of needing to tell Dante the story of her past
before speaking about it with anyone else.

She owed him
that much.

“Door is open
when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,”
Zoe said, meaning it to the depth of her soul.

Any lingering
annoyance she felt from Nikita digging into her past faded away. Having someone
like Nikita watching out for her was comforting. No, that wasn’t right. Comforting
was too tame a word for it. With Nikita’s protection, it was essentially the
mental equivalent to being wrapped in Kevlar while surrounded with an
invisibility shield.

She wasn’t
sure how it had happened, but Nikita had become a close friend. It meant more
to her knowing that Nikita didn’t allow many people to see the real her, but
sitting in her super-secret Batcave, Zoe was touched to know that her feelings
for her friend were mutual.

“Strangely, I
feel better knowing that you know. Isn’t that odd?”

“Not really.
If you want to talk about shit, you can. If you don’t, that’s fine, too.
Personally, I think by hiding from everyone, you’re putting yourself under a
lot of unnecessary strain. The past is the past. Never look over your shoulder
for trouble. Just kill it and carry on.”

Amused despite
herself, Zoe laughed. “That should be on a t-shirt. It’s also why you are totally
my first pick if the zombie apocalypse ever happens.”

“Wise choice,”
Nikita said with a chuckle. “But I think your first pick would be Dante, who is
what you really want to discuss tonight.”

Zoe eyed her.
“I don’t know if I like how perceptive you are.”

“It's more
self-preservation at this point. If I had to drag it out of you, we'd end up
drinking a lot more wine while I waited for you to bring him up. Not that I
mind drinking, but I don't like wasting time, and it would irritate me. Besides,
the faster you and Dante work out whatever the hell is wrong, the quicker I can
get back my private time at Fight Hard. Dante has been cutting into my workouts
with all these late night bang-the-bag-instead-of-banging-Zoe sessions.”

Zoe winced. “I
can't believe you just said that. Wait...you work out at three in the morning,
too? You are all so strange.”

“I go after
the shop closes some nights. Anyways, strange is relative. You and the others
are actually looking forward to dress shopping tomorrow. In my book, that's
just fucking weird.”

“You should
come. What if you don't like the dress Kali picks out? Don't you want a say?”

“No. I have
faith that Kali fears me enough not to put me in something I'll hate.”

“True,” Zoe
agreed with a laugh, but she knew that even if Nikita hated the dress their
friend Kali picked out for them as bridesmaids for her wedding, she would still
wear it.

“So, let me
guess. You now feel you have to tell Dante about who you really are, and you’re
worried about how he’ll react and if you’ll have to leave if things go south.”

“I…shit.
Pretty much.”

Nikita got up
to fetch the wine bottle from the counter in the kitchen, then refilled each of
their glasses before sitting back down. “I figured. You’re a runner. It’s what
you know. But now that you’ve found a place you can call home, it makes sense
that you’d worry about what would happen if people know all the shit you’d
rather forget about.”

“I guess that
sums it up. It’s…complicated.”

“What it is,
is stupid. Although I try to avoid other people’s relationship bullshit, even I
can tell that he’s crazy about you. Dante Fox is the type of man who would help
a friend out, but you’re more than just a friend to him.” Nikita sent Zoe a
wicked grin. “I think that’s obvious by that bet you made with him.”

Zoe gaped at
her. “I don’t think I even want to know how you found out about that.”

“Trust me, I’d
be fine with not knowing. Stop looking over your shoulder and deal with what
is. Either you trust Dante with the truth or you don’t. And if he doesn’t
understand, you don’t need to let that affect whether or not you make a life
here. Be the master of your own fate.”

“Master of my
own fate,” Zoe repeated, looking thoughtful, then she slowly smiled.

Nikita winced
slightly. “It sounded better in my head. Less…pretentious.”

“I think I
like it.”

“Whatever. I’m
hungry. If we’re going to finish this wine, I need food. How does pasta sound?
I have containers of stuff Becca made me in the freezer.”