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Authors: Amber Hughey

Death Takes Wing (32 page)

BOOK: Death Takes Wing
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He stood and gestured toward the group behind him.  “Upstairs for us, I suppose.  You two better find something.”

“If they don’t, we will.”

“Of course,” Matt said to Sam, who graced him with a bright smile.

Amalia shook her head and carefully walked inside.  The house was just as it was the day before.  No hurried packing.  She wandered through the kitchen, which looked just as pristine as the rest of the house she’d seen.  She wrinkled her nose, smelling burnt coffee as if it were right next to her.  The smell of cats was strong, almost overwhelming.

“She hasn’t been here today,” she said to Gabriel.

“No, she hasn’t,” he replied curiously as he walked around the kitchen.  The burnt coffee smell permeated the air, making it bitter and unpalatable.  “She won’t be back.”

“So, she’s dead?” Amalia asked conversationally, picking up a picture of Jessamyn and a friend and glancing at it before setting it back down.

He gave her a surprised look.  “I thought you knew.”

She gave him a hard look before shaking her head, sending the red hair flying, catching in her feathers.

“On the way out.  It was Sam who did it.”

“So we’re not going to run into her again,” Amalia said, feeling like a previous chapter in her life was finally done.

He shook his head and walked into the adjoining room.  Filled with paperwork, just like Amalia had said.  No computer.  She must have taken that with her to work.  But lots of paperwork.  Mounds of paperwork.  Most of  probably not worth the time it would take to read it.  “Now, Aleks…that’s a possibility.”

She followed him into the room.  Standing perfectly straight was starting to make her back ache.  Watching Gabriel lean over the table, she wondered how long it would take her to find her center and be
able to move as easily as he did.  Maybe never, she thought bitterly, with her luck, at least.

“So when do I get registered?” she asked as she carefully walked to him and started fingering the papers that were sprawled on the table.  A few looked familiar.  Ones that she’d taken pictures of yesterday.  Others…others were definitely not familiar.  Invoices, mostly.  New drugs, new mice.  An invoice for a new set of labcoats.

“When this investigation is done.  I’ll register both you and Sam,” he said, distracted.  “Not together, of course.”

“Of course?” she echoed, wondering what he meant.

He glanced up at her before returning to the paper he’d been studying.  “If a group of solan come in to get registered, they’re registered together.  You can’t be registered with Sam.”

“Why not?” she asked forcefully, eyes wide with the realization of what he was trying to tell her.

He looked up at her again, this time a smile starting to spread across his face.  “Because you’re not solan.”

“Yes, I am,” she responded, starting to feel her stomach drop.  “Matt said so.”

He shook his head, red tips mingling with the black, making his hair look like it was smoldering embers.  “No, you’re not.  You can’t tell yet, Matt can’t tell.  I can.”

“You didn’t think to say something sooner?” she asked, starting to get angry.

He gave her a curious look and set the paper down.  Bracing his hands on the table, he studied her.  “I wasn’t sure.”

“How could you not be sure?” she asked, not sure about the answer but needing one anyways.

“Because the smell is so faint with you,” he replied.  He looked back down at the mass of papers before grabbing a stack and leafing through them.

“What smell?” she asked as she furrowed her brow.  She knew this wasn’t the right time, but dammit, she needed answers if she was going to spend the rest of her life as an angelus.

He gave a small sigh and set the papers down.  He faced her, staring at her.  “Solan have a different smell than umbren.  There’s a base difference that each race has that most older angelus can smell.  I can smell the difference.  You have the scent of the umbren.”

“What scent?” she asked, nearly repeating herself.  She leaned against the table, pushing papers away from her.  The pale yellow walls reflected the setting sun, turning them into a blaze of gold.

“Like the night,” he said with a casual shrug.  “Like the night after a thunderstorm.  Wet, like rich, moist soil.  A bit of lightning, almost.”

She nodded slowly.  She sure as hell couldn’t smell it, but he had just said that the older angelus could.  “What do solan smell like?”

“A breezy summer day.  Full of sunshine and grass,” he replied.

“So I’m an umbren,” she said slowly, closing her eyes.  “I’m going to need to drink – “

He gave a low chuckle that made her open her eyes.

“Why are you laughing?” she demanded, pushing him away from her.

He laughed again and caught himself.  “You’re going to outlive your family, having to quit your job, and you’re worried about drinking blood?”

“You’re an ass,” she snarled in defense, but knowing he was right.

She reached out to push him again, but he easily caught her wrists.  He pulled her close and dipped his head to hers.  He brushed his lips against hers, releasing her wrists at the same time.  He placed his hands on her waist and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.

She tasted like she smelled.  Like no one else ever had to him before.  He ran his hands up her back, gently caressing the base of her wings.  Running a hand down her wings, he kissed the side of her neck.  He felt her swallow, felt her heartbeat speed up.

Her pulse was racing just under the skin.  She felt her breath hitch as he licked the hollow of her throat.  Sparks raced down her spine, overloading her nerves.  She swallowed hard as he nipped her throat.  She pressed herself closer to him, feeling an urge that hadn’t been there before to get as close to him as possible.

A throat cleared and a foot rhythmically tapped the floor.

Gabriel stopped and raised his head.  When he saw Matt standing in the doorway, he growled.

“You two find anything?  I hope you did, because upstairs was a – Oh,” Sam said, stopping next to Matt.  “So, you two didn’t think finding Aleks was very important, did you?”

“Uh,” Amalia said, trying to step away from Gabriel, but finding it nigh impossible.

“Well, I know what’s going to happen now,” Matt said in mock disgust.

“What?” Sam said curiously, walking around him to stand next to the table.

“I don’t have a chance to Amalia, that’s what,” he said dramatically, holding his hands over his heart, as he followed Sam to the table.

“You didn’t have a chance with her anyways,” Sam said brightly as she picked up the stack that Gabriel had discarded.

“I might have,” Matt protested, a smile flickering on his face.

“Yeah, if you were tall, dark and handsome.  As you are?  Not a chance in hell,” Sam said, eyes lighting in interest at the paper she held.  She set it aside before turning to the next paper.

“As I am?” he said.  “What’s wrong with the way I am?”

She glanced up with a smirk on her lips before responding.  “You look too much like Eric.”  When she saw confusion on his face, she added, “the ex.”

“You two done yet?” Matt said as he started to skim the paper he held.

“Since you two aren’t going to leave, yeah,” Gabriel replied, voice hoarse with the heat that still filled him.

“Good, start actually working then,” Matt said with a smile before dodging Amalia’s fist.

After a few moments of silence, Amalia’s eyes widened and she shoved a letter into Gabriel’s hand.

He scanned it, lips tightening into a white line.

“You find out who it was, I hope?” Matt said as he watched Amalia and Gabriel.

“Read this,” Gabriel said, holding the paper out to Sam.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Matt complained.

“No, but you don’t know who the letter is from,” Gabriel shot back forcing Sam to take the letter.

Sam’s eyes widened, and she shook her head.  She ran a hand over her shorn hair before holding the
hand over her mouth in disbelief.  “That’s not right.  That can’t be right.”

“Oh yeah, it can.  He’s always been an ass,” Amalia snarled.  She pressed a hand into the small of her back, trying to work out a kink that had formed from her leaning over the table.

“An ass, yeah.  But a killer?”

“He hasn’t killed anyone himself,” Amalia said, rebutting Sam’s comment with a flip of her hair.

“No, not himself, but he had to know what was happening.  Right?”

Gabriel shook his head, “Not necessarily.  But this is something I can’t ignore.”

“What are you going to do?” Amalia asked, turning towards him.

He took the letter back from Sam and reread it.  Owen, thanking Jessamyn for her research into the vaccine and commending her for the progress she and Aleks had made so quickly.  Promising a bonus if they completed the project before the deadline.  Owen.

“Why?” Amalia asked softly as she read the letter over Gabriel’s arm.

Gabriel shook his head.  “Too much money and not enough brains?”

Matt snarled softly, receiving a surprised look from Sam.  “Ass.  Dumbass, actually.  What the hell is more important than saving lives?  At the cost of lives?”

Gabriel shook his head again, pushing off the table.  He turned to stare out the picture window that let the faint light in.  Snowflakes fell harder, melting on the Aston’s warm hood.  “Whatever it is, I plan on finding out.”

“Not alone,” Amalia said following Gabriel to the door.  “I’m going with you.”

“Of course you are,” he replied, flashing her a grin before walking out the door.  “I planned on it.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him before following him to the Aston.  “I’m sure you did,” she said dryly.

He walked to the passenger door and opened it for her with a flourish.  When she narrowed her eyes at him, he shrugged and smiled.

She stopped at the open space and stared at him.  “You know,” she said lightly, “I was under the impression that you didn’t like angelus women.”

He smirked and helped her slid in the car, arranging her feathers again.  After sliding in himself, he turned to her, “I don’t.  You aren’t an angelus woman.”

She looked down at herself, then at him.  “Funny, I seem to recall being told I was an angelus.”

He laughed and ran a hand through his hair.  “Genetically, and physically, you are.  Mentally, you’re human.”

“So, I’m the best of both worlds?” she asked as he started the car.

He smiled at her, showing her the lengthened canine’s she’d soon sport.  “You could say that.”

A knock on his window, then a low voice, “open up, Winterbourne.  We’ve got you surrounded.”

He snorted and rolled his window down.  Matt stood next to the car, smiling.  “What’d you want?”

“You two are off to greet the Coursaire’s?” Matt asked, leaning into the window.  His frame blocked the light, and snowflakes slowly covered his oak wings.  “Anything you want us to do?”

Gabriel nodded.  “I want you to find out where else Aleks was staying.  Maybe you can find out where he bolted to.”

Matt nodded then straightened.  He walked back to his SUV before saluting Gabriel and Amalia as they pulled away.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

 

“So we’re off to talk to Owen,” she said as he sped down the driveway.

“And Vicki,” he added, turning onto the blacktop.  Snow fell around them, sparking in the dim sunset.

“You think they know anything the kidnappings?”

“Yeah, I do.  I really, really do.  Owen’s that type,” Gabriel said, speeding up.

“And here I just thought he was a chauvinistic ass,” Amalia commented as she watched the trees speed by.

“Too bad you weren’t right.  This would be a lot easier for both of us,” Gabriel muttered as they sped along the road.

“When will I get my canines?” she asked after a few minutes had passed.

He gave her a surprised look before answering, “Whenever they grow?  Probably within a few days you’ll notice your human canine’s loosening.”

“The wings grew in such a short time.  You’d think I’d have the rest of the goods.  Unless I’m not umbren?”

He laughed at the latter.  “No,” he said, shaking his head, “You’re umbren all right.  I can smell it clearly now.  It’s the enclosed space.”

“All I smell is cinnamon and nutmeg,” she groused.

“That’s the oil from my wings.  Family scent versus racial scent.”

“I don’t have a family.  So what do I get to smell like?” she asked, throwing a pout in there for good measure.

He pursed his lips and thought about it.  “Well, you’ll get to help decide,” he finally answered.

“I don’t get to pick?” she asked with interest.

Gabriel shook his head and shifted in his seat.  “Not entirely.  First, the officials will go through the already registered scents.  They’ll let you know which ones you can use and which combinations you can use them in.  Then you pick.”

“And that would be my scent?  Forever?”

BOOK: Death Takes Wing
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