Death Takes Wing (14 page)

He flicked a glance at her before tossing the empty envelope back on the table.  “Doesn’t apply to us.  I don’t think.  Anyway, if they catch anyone, it’s going to be you.”

“I’m sure that the neighbors would remember a person with giant
wings
going in the apartment,” she argued, pointing at the dark appendages.

He gazed at her and rewarded her with a smile, “unfortunately for you, you look nothing like Patricia.  Fortunately for me, I have wings.”  As if to illustrate his point, he snapped them open and spread the feathers.  “And to most humans, all angelus look alike.”

She shook her head with a muttered “show off,” and tried to grab the results from him.  He effectively kept them away by raising his arm, which also, expectedly, raised her ire.  He grinned and turned his eyes to the sheet of paper.

As he guessed, lab results were contained in the white envelope.  He read them through, and handed it to a miffed Amalia for her to read.  She glanced at it, not understanding the significance of it.  “So what’s this mean?”  She started to walk towards the door leading them out of the apartment.

“It means that she took the blood test to find out if she was immune,” he replied, picking his way behind her, through the mismatched furniture and pieces of horse equipment strewn about the room.

“So, I thought we already knew that?  I mean, we know that she has at least a brother or sister who’s immune, right?”

He nodded and continued, “
we
knew, but she probably didn’t.  Anyway, the test is saying that she’s
immune.  But my information from before was that she wasn’t.  So how did she develop immunity?”

Amalia hesitated at a saddle sitting close to the door, touching it almost reverently.  Gabriel noticed the adoration on her face, and looked at the saddle himself.  “CWD?” he asked, confused.

She nodded.  “This is like, the Rolls Royce of saddles.  Comfortable, gorgeous leather, and really well built.  This is so odd.”

Gabriel frowned.  “Why?”

She picked up the saddle and turned it over.  No wear or tear was evident anywhere on the saddle.  She spoke slowly, “this saddle is, oh, $5000 brand new.  And this
is
brand new.  No doubt about it.  I would be surprised if it’s been used more than a dozen times.”

“So?” he asked, even more confused.

“So this is like a person like me being able to afford a first edition Carrie signed by Stephen King.  Not gonna happen,” she continued, “so I want to know how working student who can’t afford a decent apartment could afford a brand new CWD saddle?”

It was a good question, he thought as he considered the few possibilities.  “The boyfriend?”

Amalia shrugged and ran a hand over the seat of the saddle, the soft leather sliding under her fingers.  “I guess it could be.  But I thought he was a new boyfriend.  Why would someone spend $5000 on a person they just started dating?”

“Maybe to go with the expensive horse?”  Gabriel guessed.

Amalia shook her head.  “No, she’s had him for a few years, based on the show pictures posted in the office.  Probably a gift from her parents or something.  The saddle…the saddle is different.  It’s new.  Like,
new
new.”

Gabriel had to admit it was very strange.  She sighed gave the leather one last lingering touch before exiting the apartment.

Amalia stopped at the top of the stairs, and Gabriel bumped into her lightly.  His breath was warm on her neck, and the warmth quickly spread through her insides.  He hesitantly placed a hand on her hip.  She leaned into him, and slowly turned her head to gaze at him through her lashes.  He brushed his lips against the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine when she felt a hint of fangs.  She could feel his heat through her jacket and felt her heart start to race.

A door opened from a floor above them, breaking them out of the moment.  Moving out of the way so the rushing brunette could make her way around the couple, Amalia pulled away from Gabriel.  Starting back down the stairs, she looked back at Patricia’s door one last time.

“So she wasn’t immune, but now she is.  Maybe an acquired immunity?  Possibly from a
vaccine,” she considered thoughtfully.  “She’s definitely part of your missing people?”

Gabriel nodded, “the details of how she went missing fit.”

“So, someone is keeping her contained, probably because her sister’s immune, making her a carrier,” Amalia mused over the details, slowly putting them in order.  “Using her to find a cure for the renati, or at the least, to create a vaccine.  Probably without her consent.”

“It probably started out with her consent, remember the argument with her boyfriend?”  Gabriel said, making his way down the stairs, “but, if they’re doing the former, Aleks thinks that they’d have to change her, then work backwards.”

“So at this point, they’re definitely keeping her against her will,” she finished.

He followed her down the stairs, trying to calm his twitching nerves.  “All the more reason to find her and Sam, then.  As quickly as possible.”

“So, I have a question,” she said trying to ignore the grime on the handrail and the pang in her heart when he mentioned Sam.

“What’s that?” he asked, carefully stepping over a suspicious stain decorating the stair.

“This is going to sound really….cold,” she said, hesitating.

“Okay, so?”

“I am going to be paid for this, right?  I mean, unless I get back to my job on Monday, I’m jobless.”

“Ah,” he replied, “Yeah, you can be compensated.  That won’t be a problem.  I’ll put in the request when we get back.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“And even better,” he said brightly, causing her to turn around and look at him.  “If you want, you can keep working with me.  Let me tell you, sometimes, like at the stable, with Miranda, it’s hard to work with humans.  Being an angelus, and an umbren to boot.  So working with you would really benefit me.”

She huffed out a laugh.  “As long as I get paid,” she agreed, then started back down the steps.

“Off to see the wizard, now,” he said airily as they climbed in the car, glad to leave the scents behind.

She gave a low chuckle, glad for the distraction.  “The wonderful wizard of Altrua Lab Corp?”

“Exactly that one.”

She twisted in her seat, facing him, “will they let us have any information?  I mean, what about confidentiality and all that?  That’s not a little thing to shrug away, you know.”

He arched a black eyebrow at her before answering, “my dear, I have plan.”

She rolled her eyes at that proclamation, “Sure you do.  Hopefully one that doesn’t involve me running for my life while people shoot at me ala Stephanie Plum.”

He gazed at her, a blank look on his striking face.  “Stephanie Plum?”

“Lingerie saleswoman turned bounty hunter.  Everyone’s planting bombs in her car or shooting at her.  Anyway, that’s irrelevant.  What’s relevant is that it I really don’t want to get shot at again,” she replied, “although I’d hope that the lab people aren’t the bad guys…although if this were any decent action movie, they’d be in on it.  Or, they’d be the ones kidnapping the people for their own experiments.  Maybe that’s what’s happening!”

“Wait, back up,” he said, holding his hand up.  “Shot at
again
?”

She giggled at the memory.  “Yeah, I’ve been shot at.  Sam and I were riding on state land in the middle of summer.  I was wearing bright yellow.  On a white horse, Ghost.  Sam was wearing red, riding her bay mare, Velvet.  All of a sudden, my leg started killing me, and when I looked down, it was orange.  Some little shit shot me with a paintball.  Not to mention, cop, remember?  For four years.  I was shot at, twice.”

“Twice?”

“Twice,” she confirmed, enjoying the way he shifted in the seat at the uncomfortable subject.  “First
time it was a supposed-routine traffic stop.  Second time it was a burglary gone wrong.”

He closed his eyes, “so, one more question on the ‘you getting shot at’ topic.”

“Shoot,” she started giggling at the unintentional pun, making his stomach twitch in anticipation.

“What’d you do to the kid?” his lips quirked in a smile at the look of humor on her face.

She clapped her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the giggles, “Caught up with him.  Took his gun.  Emptied the gun of paintballs.  On him.  He looked like a rainbow Dalmatian by the time we were done with him.”

H threw his head back and howled with laughter.  It took him a few minutes to get his mirth under control, but by then, his eyes had teared up and his abs were sore.  He hadn’t laughed like that since before he could remember.  “That’s the greatest thing I’ve heard, ever,” he chortled, and wiped the tears from his eyes, an idiotic grin still plastered on his face.

She giggled at his outburst and poked him in the arm.  “Yeah, now you know better than to mess with me!”

He shot her a sly grin, “Yeah, because no one knows what you might use as a weapon.”

“Ninja secret,” she quipped and pretended to zip her lips.

He put a hand to his heart, still trying to catch his breath from his laughing fit.  “So if you’re a ninja, does that make me a pirate?”

She grinned widely, “Only if you wear a tri-corner hat and have a parrot.”

He laughed that the response, and made a mental note to send Owen a thank you note for the dreaded invitation to that pretentious wedding.  He sure as hell wasn’t regretting attending the wedding, especially at this point.

“So,” Amalia said amiably after he got his laughter under control, “what’s Altrua got to do with the vaccines?”

He coughed and gathered his scattered thoughts.  “According to Aleks, Altrua’s not the one actually coming up with the vaccines.  They’re just the testing ground, it seems.  There are two other companies, one private, one public, that are doing the creating and splicing and whatever else it takes to create a vaccine,” waving his hands vaguely.

“Wait, you’re how old and you don’t know how to make a vaccine?” she exclaimed, putting her hands on her cheeks, feigning a look of amazement.

He gave her a withering glare.  “Amalia, I’ve lived a hell of a lot longer than you, and let me tell you, the last place I want to be is stuck in a lab, working with a microscope.  And I mean,
the
last place.  Maybe others find that kind of work rewarding, but I would go completely out of my head if I had to do that on a daily basis.  Some people, like Aleks, may relish staring at a microscope for hours.  I, however, do not.  Not one bit,” he added for emphasis.

“So have you picked up any other useful life skills?” she asked sarcastically, as if creating a vaccine was a life skill every human or angelus should have.

“Oh, I’ve picked up my share of skills,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her. 

She blushed and bowed her head to hide her smile.  “Useful ones, I mean.”

“Oh, they’re useful,” he replied, winking at her before continuing.  “A bit of doctoring, shooting, tracking, hiding, sewing…those are just a few.”

“Sewing?” she asked with a raised eyebrow, “isn’t that a bit…girly?”

“Yes, sewing,” he said defensively.  “Have you ever had a pair of pants rip at an inopportune moment?”

She just looked at him, a smirk starting to cross her face as she pictured just where the pants ripped.

“Whatever,” he said, brushing off the laughter that he heard as he looked away.  “I read, too.”

“You read?” she asked, curiosity filling her eyes.  “I mean, fiction, not just to find out what type of cereal it is your buying?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” he replied, distracted as he carefully backed into a parking spot in the corner of the small parking lot.  “Love to read, it’s one of the few things about me that hasn’t changed throughout the centuries.  Always new ideas, new authors, new books to read.”

“Any favorites?” she asked as she started to climb out of the car, wondering why they hadn’t had this conversation at the wedding when he’d brought up her love of reading.

“Voltaire, Dickens, Montgomery, Byron, Frost, King,” he replied, randomly listing some of his favorite authors as he followed her up the drive.

She glanced at him, surprised that he mentioned Montgomery.  “Montgomery?  As in Anne of Green Gables?”

“I prefer Emily of New Moon, but yes, that Montgomery.  Don’t look at me like that,” he said with a wide grin, the tips of his upper fangs showing.  “I’m related to several young girls and when I watch them, I put them to bed with Emily and Anne.”

“Sure, that’s a likely excuse,” she quipped cheekily as she followed him the door.  “You probably just have a thing for Anne.”

“Oh, you know how I love my red-heads,” he replied, glad when her face flushed.

He paused outside the door, a considering look on his face.  “You know what we’re here for, right?”

She gave a small huff that might have been a laugh.  “For Patricia’s lab records.  That much was obvious.”

He pointedly ignored her laugh.  “How are we going to get it…”  He trailed off as a thoughtful look entered his eyes.