“We followed. We were too late,” Rufus responded.
“Where. Did. He. Go?” I ground out through my clenched jaw.
“There’s only one place of which I can think. It is a place unknown to even the highest-ranking Angels.”
“How do you know of it, dominus?”
“Because I worked for many years to gain his trust.” He grinned down at me. “You have no idea the things I’ve done to protect Ian over the years, so you will never question me again.”
I stared into his eyes; eyes that reminded me of Ian. He was right. I had no idea what he’d been through to win Gabriel’s confidence.
“Okay, you’re right. You know where this place is?”
“I do. It’s not far from here.”
“Let’s go.”
When we got to the car, the sun was just peeking over the horizon. Ian slid into the driver’s seat, even recovering from an injury he insisted on driving. I pushed the passenger seat forward for Rufus, but he motioned for me to get in the back seat.
“So not gonna happen, buddy. You can get in the back or you can walk. Your choice.”
Rufus chuckled. “All right, sugar, whatever you say.”
Ian followed Rufus’ directions, driving for twenty minutes before arriving at a simple one-story ranch-style home with Gabriel’s Hummer SUV in the driveway.
“This is it?” Why the hell would someone who hates mortals want to live like one?
“Yes. He wanted a peaceful place where he could raise his family. You kind of screwed that up by rescuing Juliana,” Rufus explained.
“Ah, shucks.”
He chuckled. “I can see why Ian loves you.”
“Well, gee, I’m so glad you approve.” I turned back to the front and cast a glance in Ian’s direction, but his expression gave nothing away… as usual.
“I never said I approve, just that I understand.”
I rolled my eyes and opened the door to step out into the brisk morning air. Looking up at the sunrise-hued sky, I sang, “It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood… to kill a psychopath.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Ga-a-abrie-e-el, come out, come out wherever you are,” I called from the way too average looking living room.
As we searched the house I was confused by its traditional design, with lots of whites, creams, and muted colors. The house and its décor were a stark contrast to the banshee who had called it home.
“You checked for an attic? Basement?” I asked… again.
Leo relayed, for a second time, that the attic had been empty. There was no basement, not surprising in south Florida, but you never know. As far as they could tell there were no secret rooms hidden anywhere in the house. Some of our guys were checking the perimeter for signs of Gabriel’s whereabouts.
I spotted a doghouse through the sliders that led to the backyard. I smirked at the mental image of Gabriel holding the leash of a poodle. Because with as weird as all this was, he could have just been out walking his dog.
“Wait a second,” I muttered as I walked out back.
I heard Ian call my name as I crawled into the doghouse. “Well, well, well,” I said to myself as I lifted the hatch in the floor and climbed down into a tunnel.
“Goldie?”
“In here. There’s a tunnel.”
Ian lowered himself into the tunnel and we stood looking into the dark. The warmth in my center grew so quickly, it took all I had to tamp down the fire. Ian felt it and wrapped his arms around me, trying to soothe me.
“Relax, Goldie. You can control it, you know how.”
“Talking helps.”
“So, talk.”
“How does this weasel keep getting away from us?”
“He can run, but he cannot hide for too long.”
“That is the corniest thing you’ve ever said.”
“What do you want me to say? You know Gabriel is a rat. Rats can be cunning. I know he has escaped again, but I assure you, we will get him.”
We heard someone on the ladder and turned to see Rufus.
“I know you’re upset, but we need to go,” Rufus said.
“Fine,” I agreed.
We drove in silence. Ian’s eyes never leaving the road. I gazed at the morning sky. And Rufus hummed an annoyingly upbeat tune in the backseat. When we got home, I went straight to the bedroom, ran a bath, and sank in up to my neck.
I needed a good pout, get it over with so I could move on and help plan our next move to find Gabriel. Closing my eyes, I sank even deeper into the bath letting the warm water cradle me.
Within minutes I was drifting into a half-sleep while thinking of Ian. Specifically, his hands moving over my body.
When his touch became real, I let out a moan. He slid in behind me rousing me from my daydream. His hands explored my body, eliciting more moans.
Resting my head on his chest, I felt his excitement pressing on my back. I began to move against it and soon Ian was grabbing me by the waist to turn me so I was straddling him. Our lips met as I lowered myself onto him and we began to move until we both cried out.
We held each other as the water cooled. He was rubbing my back, and I snuggled in even more.
“Mm, if you keep wiggling around, we are never getting out of this tub,” Ian murmured against my neck.
“I’d say that’s fine with me, but it’s getting chilly in here,” I said.
In response, he stood with me wrapped around his waist.
He lowered his lips to mine as I unwrapped my legs from him. When my feet touched the floor, a shiver coursed through me that had nothing to do with the frigid ceramic at my feet.
“Are you feeling better?” Ian stepped out of my embrace to grab two oversized towels from the linen closet.
He wrapped me in one before using the other for himself. Once we were dry, we slipped into our robes and stepped into the bedroom. With just a thought, flames burst to life in the fireplace.
“You have been practicing.”
The shadows from the fire elicited a vision of fairies dancing around a bonfire in a forest. It was so strong I thought I could hear them singing. I shook my head to clear it and the vision was gone.
“Now and then, when I have a moment to myself.”
We sat on the sofa in front of the fire.
“It shows.”
“I’m losing my fairy blood, aren’t I?”
He stiffened and shifted a little. My question must have surprised him.
“When is the last time you ate?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I have a point, just answer me.”
“I can’t remember. I can’t even remember the last time I was hungry. You saw what happened with the chili.”
“Goldie, you are becoming banshee. Your aura is changing.”
“How?”
“I do not know, but I believe it has to do with you taking my essence. It somehow mutated your–”
“Mutated?”
“Perhaps that was a poor choice of words.” He pulled me onto his lap. “You need to know that this does not make you weird or any other term you choose to label yourself. You are one of a kind, and that makes you special and precious.”
The feel of his body and the sound of his deep, husky voice had me melting against him.