Part 8 (1/2)
Hannah shook her head. ”I don't think I ever will.”
”Ever can be a really long time.”
”Maybe to you.”
Trixie took another swallow from her gla.s.s, then uncurled one finger from the rim and pointed at Hannah. ”Have you ever considered becoming a hybrid?”
”No!”
Trixie grinned. That answer was almost too fast. ”You might like it.”
”I guess the power wouldn't be bad.”
”It's not just about power.”
”Yes, it is.” A bitter expression clouded the woman's large green eyes.
”Sounds like you haven't been treated very well here.” When Hannah didn't reply, Trixie continued, ”Is Seraphim hard to handle? I know his kind can be tough on a girl.”
”No.” Hannah held Trixie's eyes. ”He's the nicest one I've met since...since I began working for Sir Edward.”
”What's he talk about?”
”You're interested in him?” Was that jealousy in the mortal's eyes?
”Just curious.”
”I think I should go.”
”No, stay.” Trixie touched Hannah's arm. ”I didn't mean to be nosy. So what else is there to do for excitement around here?”
”Do you want a blond, brunette, or redhead? Hybrid or mortal?”
Trixie laughed. ”I don't mean that kind of excitement. I've got plenty of that from Vikenti.”
”There's a gambling room, a spa, a heated pool -”
”Heated pool? That sounds nice.”
”Let's change into our suits. I'll meet you at the stairs in ten minutes?”
”See you then.” Trixie winked. ”I think I'll stay here for another couple of minutes and look at the flowers.”
Hannah nodded, and Trixie watched the mortal walk from the room, her steps graceful. The woman possessed underlying strength in spite of her mortal frailty, and there was something about her Trixie liked. Unwittingly, Hannah had nabbed Trixie's interest for more than just her relations.h.i.+p with Seraphim. The woman was hiding something, and Trixie was curious to find out what it was.
Chapter Five.
The metal pillar dented beneath the forceful repet.i.tion of Seraphim's kicks. The pillars were created for Immaculate strength, since a normal heavy bag, or even the wooden ones shaped for hybrids, bordered on useless. He spun, the bottom of his gloved fist belting the pillar's scratched surface. The image of Vincent's face hovered over the target, and he struck harder.
As dawn approached, most of the other guests and servants retired, leaving the gym empty. Seraphim was glad. After seeing his old enemy's face, he felt ready to explode from rage-partly at Dilorenzo, and partly at the First Father for sending him. d.a.m.n Adam Lindsay! He knew how Vincent and Seraphim felt about one another! Of all the Network agents who could have been sent, why had he chosen Vincent? Spite, of course, because Seraphim refused to abandon his a.s.signment. Curse the young son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h for sending Dilorenzo!
”Hey.”
Seraphim's flesh crawled at the sound of Vincent's voice. He s.h.i.+fted his hip and snapped another kick at the pillar, snarling as his fangs slipped from flesh sheaths.
”h.e.l.lo!” Vincent bellowed.
”I heard you,” Seraphim stated, not so much as turning toward the other man.
Vincent approached and stood behind the pillar, taping his hands. He wore black shorts and sneakers, exposing his thickly muscled legs, arms, and chest. His build had always reminded Seraphim of a gorilla, far more like the image of a cave man than the real thing.
”You haven't let anything slide, have you?” Vincent observed Seraphim's practice. ”You always were prepared.”
”Not always.” Seraphim flashed him a scathing look.
I hope you're not going to let hard feelings interfere with our a.s.signment. Vincent's thoughts touched Seraphim's mind. The invasion made Seraphim want to recoil with disgust.
I didn't need you on this a.s.signment! The Network evidently thought otherwise.
”I'm going for a run.” Seraphim ripped off his gloves and began unwrapping his hands. ”Coming?”
”Sounds like a plan.”
Seraphim growled deep in his chest as they headed for the door at the back of the gym. They climbed the stairway leading outside the mansion where the early morning desert stretched on all sides. Normally, he wouldn't have ventured outside at that time of day, but he and Vincent needed to discuss the a.s.signment in private.
Together they raced miles from the mansion, matching each other in speed. Simply running alongside another Immaculate rekindled the ancient rivalry between them. He glanced at Vincent, caught his scent, and knew in spite of his veneer of nonchalance, he was as affected by their meeting as Seraphim. Even thousands of years couldn't erase their violent past, their intolerable hatred.
They slowed their pace until they stopped beside an enormous cactus.
”So what's up?” Vincent said. ”Have you found any evidence of the Flower?”
”You tasted the wine at dinner.”
”Odd but good. Was that it-the Flower?”
”I believe so.”
”Where did he get it from?”
”I don't know.”
”I thought you told Adam you had a handle on this?”
”I do. Sending other agents was a stupid move on his part. The more of us crawling around this place, the more chance of exposure.”