Part 5 (1/2)
”Where are you going?” Laurel asked, frowning.
Gadara's brows rose at her tone, but he replied calmly, ”To the commissary.”
”You need to be military to shop in the commissary,” Edwards advised.
”I have clearance, Mr. Edwards.”
”He's an archangel,” Izzie muttered, ”not an idiot.”
”Sod off.”
Eve smiled at the exchange, but her merriment faded when she caught Gadara's gaze.
”Ms. Hollis. Please ensure that things flow smoothly in the women's quarters. There are air mattresses over there.” Gadara pointed at the pile of equipment in front of the garage.
Laurel scowled. ”Why is she in charge?”
”She is the only one of you to have actual field experience.”
”Yeah, and she got the s.h.i.+t kicked out of her.”
The cla.s.s didn't know that she had died, Eve realized with some surprise, which made her wonder if her resurrection was a big secret.
Gadara's dark eyes took on a warning gleam. ”Humor me, please, Ms. Hogan.”
Laurel shot an arch glance at Eve. Romeo set his arm around her waist and murmured in her ear. Eve's chin lifted. Of course Gadara would stoke the animosity. From the beginning, he'd made her marking as difficult as possible. It was his way of keeping Alec under his thumb.
”Mr. Edwards.” The archangel turned away. ”Please oversee the arranging of the men's quarters, especially the kitchen. We will begin dinner preparations when I return.”
”Are we hunting tonight?” Ken asked.
Gadara shook his head. ”No. Tonight is about settling in and preparing for tomorrow.”
”Then we better get started,” Eve said before heading toward the ladies' side. The other women fell into step behind her.
The sun was dipping low on the horizon, streaking the sky with jeweled hues. The view was breathtaking, and Eve paused on the small cement porch step to take it in.
”Maybe it won't be so dodgy here after all,” Laurel said.
”Maybe,” Eve agreed, hoping that was true.
The comfortable stillness was shattered by the howl of a wolf in the distance. A chill coursed down Eve's spine.
”There are wolves at the beach?” Claire asked in a whisper.
”Were wolves,” Izzie corrected grimly.
As the color of the sky took on the hue of blood, Eve's enjoyment in its beauty fled. The evening air took on an ominous, oppressive weight.
They were out there. Infernals. Waiting, as the Marks were, for orders to kill. They pa.s.sed their time toying with mortals, leading them to the edge of h.e.l.l, then shoving them over.
Eve pushed open the unlocked door and gestured for the others to enter to safety before her. ”Let's get inside.”
”G'day, mates.”
Reed smiled at the Aussie greeting. ”It's past midnight.”
”Sorry to keep you waiting,” Les Goodman said, gesturing them into his small but well-kept house in Victoria Park. As the Australian handler who'd witnessed the most recent attack by their mystery Infernal, he was the reason Reed and Mariel were Down Under. He'd been tied up with the formalities that followed a Mark killing and had finally called Reed to come over about thirty minutes ago.
”I wanted to record my report while everything was still fresh in my mind,” Les explained as they moved into a comfortable living room furnished with brown leather furniture and st.u.r.dy wooden pieces. ”Not that I will ever forget, mind. I'll have nightmares about what happened to my Mark forever.”
”Thank you for agreeing to see us, Mr. Goodman,” Mariel said. ”We wish we were here under happier circ.u.mstances. We're very sorry for your loss.”
”Thank you. Call me Les, please.”
Mariel wore a loose floral dress and coordinating blue sweater, which gave her a casual and approachable air. Her wild flame-red hair, however, was pure seduction, but Les didn't appear to be affected as most single men were.
”You know Abel, of course,” she said.
Les extended his hand to Reed. ”Yes, of course. Welcome, Abel. It's an honor to have you here.”
Reed accepted Les's handshake, noting the strength and confidence conveyed by the mal'akh's grip. Les was blond, his skin darkened and weathered by the sun, his appearance arrested to look as if he was somewhere in his midforties. Grief weighed heavily upon his broad shoulders and bracketed his mouth and eyes with deep grooves of strain. Such physical manifestations of emotion were rare in mal'akhs and were only caused by the loss of a beloved. Les's Mark had meant a great deal to him. Affairs sometimes formed between Marks and their handlers, since they shared a connection that transcended the physical. A Mark could share fear and triumph and a handler could rea.s.sure and offer comfort across many miles. Also conducive to work-related romance were the isolated lives led by Marks and the lure of their Novium, which was brought on by the thrill of their first hunts. Even mal'akhs weren't immune to a Mark awakening to full power.
”We appreciate you taking the time to answer our questions,” Reed murmured, thinking of Eve and his own growing connection to her. G.o.d help him when her Novium hit, which would happen soon after she finished training and began hunting in earnest.
He glanced at his Rolex. It was early evening in California. She would be in Monterey now. By the end of the week, she would be three weeks away from graduation.
Les's jaw tightened. ”I'll do anything necessary to catch that demon. I've never seen anything like what happened to Kimberly. I pray I never see anything like it again.”
”Did you see the Infernal?” Mariel asked in a soothing voice.
”Yes.” A haunted look came to the handler's blue eyes. ”It was built like a brick s.h.i.+thouse. Nearly six meters in height and two meters wide at the shoulders.”
Reed looked at Mariel with both brows raised. She had described the demon far differently. The high-pitched whistle of a teakettle came from the back of the house. Les motioned them to follow him.
”Come along.” His booted steps thudded heavily across the hardwood floor. ”We'll talk in the kitchen.”
They settled around a scuffed linoleum-topped table. Les turned off the gas stove and poured boiling water into a waiting teapot. His domesticity contrasted starkly with his rugged appearance-worn flannel s.h.i.+rt, faded jeans, and large belt buckle.
”The Infernal I saw,” Mariel began, ”was a little over seven feet tall, nowhere near as large as the one you describe.”
Les set the pot on the table, then returned to the counter to retrieve a paper bag. He shook the contents- scones-onto a plate.
”Well, here's the thing.” He glanced over his shoulder at them. ”It wasn't that big before it killed my Mark.”
Reed's cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He withdrew it quickly. He normally kept the d.a.m.n thing off, but with Eve in training he wanted to be accessible. Glancing at the caller ID, he cursed silently. Sara. He hit the b.u.t.ton that sent the call to voicemail.