Gabriel (28 page)

This time I would not let him have the last word. I carefully descended the stairs and peered back over my shoulder before his resentful, perfect face could disappear out of view. “It's my decision, my choice. You will respect it.”

 

TWENTY-FOUR

T
HE BENTLEY PULLED UP
outside a four-story whitewashed villa on Egerton Crescent, the most expensive and exclusive road in all of Chelsea, or so the chauffeur told us. The driver opened up the passenger door, and Brooke and I, as elegantly as possible, stepped out.

“Wow,” Brooke gushed.

I wasn't as surprised as Brooke. Every property Gabriel owned, every piece of clothing he wore reeked of wealth, and he was here this evening to meet with some sort of business partner. I expected that business partner would reside somewhere that was nothing short of lavish.

The gentleman at the door smiled at us, and I was pleased he had seen us arrive in a Bentley; it made us look like one of them. Aware that Gabriel was not too far away, I threw up the wall in my mind to ensure that he would have no sense of me. Courtesy of the car service, I tipped the last drops of champagne to the back of my throat and gestured for Brooke to go on ahead. If there was a guest list, she would need to influence the doorman. The sight of us might not be sufficient enough.

Ruadhan hadn't argued too hard with my choice to come here, agreeing that I was capable of making my own decisions. But I wasn't completely trusting that he hadn't tipped Gabriel off. But I suspected that, even if Jonah had accepted what I'd said, he might follow anyway to keep tabs on Brooke, which to my mind might not be a bad thing.

I walked with Brooke up the diamond-shaped slabs that covered the steps leading to the wide black-and-gold door.

Brooke had worked her magic, and the doorman held out his arms for our coats. I took a nervous breath as the gentleman did a double take at the sight of me in my see-through red-and-white-rose-covered dress.

Ordinarily, Brooke would be beaming at me being so daring, but instead she looked sorrowful.

Her sadness made me feel closer to her, and I took her arm as we entered the grand, granite-floored hallway before us. A crystal chandelier hung high above at the center, catching the light and causing me to squint. At the very far end, an archway presented beautiful gardens that continued out the back. The hallway had two staircases—one at each side of the room—with cast iron railings. If fairy tales were set in the twenty-first century, this would have been the king and queen's castle, and I would be the witch infiltrating the stately home.

Waiters and waitresses wearing smart shirts and black trousers sashayed around the huge space, their brass trays holding champagne flutes that were being lifted by the many guests engrossed in conversation. The plinking of piano keys drifted into the hall, bouncing and echoing off the exposed brickwork. The notes were low and despondent, as though they were bored.

I automatically did a sweep of the floor, making sure Gabriel, Iona, and Fergal were not in the room.

“I'm going to find Fergal,” Brooke said.

“Okay, but Brooke—”

She glared at me. “It's Lailah, remember.”

In a hushed voice, I said, “Fine, but you remember, I'm not here, if Gabriel or anyone else asks, okay? And
Lailah
—don't be stupid enough to give out
your
name,” I reminded her sternly.

She rushed away from me, weaving and bobbing through the aristocrats in search of her new Irish beau. Cricking my neck from side to side, I tried to find some strength in my legs, but I knew from how heavy they felt that Jonah was right: My body was giving up.

I roamed through the huge entranceway, swiping a glass of champagne off a tray as a waiter went by. Though I kept to the edges of the room, every person I passed seemed to stop and stare at me. Perhaps wearing such a revealing dress wasn't the best idea when I needed to blend in. Still, for the first time, I didn't feel shy or embarrassed; I wore it as though it were part of my own skin. Let them stare.

Hovering outside one of the reception rooms, I caught sight of Brooke standing by an antique Victorian fireplace. Beside her, Fergal was gripping her hand. Iona stood near, already looking like the third wheel. Gabriel wasn't with her. I tried to zone out the chatter, listening intently for his voice, but my abilities were failing and it hurt to try to use them.

Another waiter marched past me, and I grabbed his shirt. “Excuse me, is the gentleman of the house here?” If Gabriel wasn't with Iona, he was doing business.

“Yes, I believe Sir Montmorency is in his study. He will be down soon enough; you may speak with him then.” He followed the trail of roses down my dress and, with a chivalrous smile, he left, but not before I replaced my empty flute with a full one.

My chest was sore and my throat was scratching, but at least the alcohol provided some form of light relief. So Gabriel was likely to be in the study, wherever that was, but the waiter had said that the owner would be down soon, which meant it was upstairs somewhere. Lifting my dress so it wouldn't catch under my heels, I ascended the stairs as inconspicuously as possible. I peered cautiously over my shoulder to check that no one was following me and continued to climb the steps.

The landing was, like the rest of the house, steeped in history and extravagance, with a double-vaulted ceiling and numerous pieces of artwork hanging across the main wall.

I listened for Gabriel's voice again, and this time, ever so faintly, I heard it. I slid my feet from the stilettos, knowing that even the slightest sound might give me away. I tiptoed down the varnished hardwood, right to the far end of the corridor.

I snuck over to a door that was slightly ajar, and I peered in through the small gap. Gabriel was seated in front of a huge desk facing an older gentleman who held a pipe in his hand; the smoke wafted, filling the room with a strong and sweet aroma. The man was leaning back in his chair. His gray checked jacket was buttoned smartly, and a chain draped below his top pocket. My gaze was drawn to the shine of an ornate silver pocket watch peeping out over the top, which warned me away.

Behind the man was a lit roof terrace with dark-green, London-style lamps and plants, accessed through double doors that were surrounded by thick, chocolate-brown velvet drapes. The many bookcases filled with leather-bound tomes lining the walls made me think of Ruadhan. He probably could spend a year in here and never get through them all.

Gabriel placed his hand inside his pocket and then stretched his arm out across the table, placing down some shiny wrappings. The gentleman removed his pipe from the corner of his lips and fingered the silk before glancing once more at Gabriel. When he opened them, he didn't hide his pleased expression. He laughed and glided his fingertips over what appeared to be a handful of crystal spheres.

“Well, I have to say, you haven't disappointed.”

I found myself spreading my palm across my own gem, which hung low on my chain. Like mine, the ones Gabriel had given the man were no ordinary crystals.

Gabriel tilted his head as though he were somehow bidding farewell to the gems.

“The money will be in your account by tomorrow morning,” the man said matter-of-factly.

So this was where Gabriel's wealth came from. Selling off crystals from Styclar-Plena to men like Sir Montmorency.

“You have buyers for all of them so soon?” Gabriel returned quickly.

Flipping the wrappings and re-covering the gems, Sir Montmorency drew his pipe back to his mouth and made puffing sounds as he inhaled the tobacco. “Yes, one buyer actually.”

I couldn't see Gabriel's face, but his body tensing told me that answer caused him concern.

“One?” Gabriel said.

“Yes, one. He's been doing business with the Montmorency men longer than you have, in fact. First time he's buying, not selling, though. When I told him I was expecting a bounty this evening, he insisted on coming in person. I believe he has a silent partner.”

Gabriel rubbed his fingers inside his palms, perplexed. I thought then he might take the crystals back—tell his business partner that the deal was off. Gabriel surely wouldn't take risks, just to make money? But he didn't say anything.

“In fact, I have several otherworldly acquaintances—yourself included—here this evening. I believe you know Malachi? I expect you have much to discuss, now you have chosen to fall.”

Malachi—a fallen Angel. The same one that Gabriel had sought out in search of answers and the being I had watched in a vision.

Sir Montmorency collected the silk wrappings and strode to a safe in the wall. “This is the last of them, yes?”

He tapped in a security code. The locking mechanism turned over twice before releasing.

Gabriel didn't reply. Clearing his throat, he said instead, “I have been doing business with your family for the best part of a century, Sir Montmorency. I trust that when I tell you I have nothing left to part with, you will not seek me out.”

The gentleman did not hesitate as he tucked his prizes into the vault. “Yes. I am glad for you, Angel, that you have found your purpose. Your existence here with her will certainly be an extravagant one. She is a very beautiful girl; I trust you will now begin your own family?”

I took a quick breath, but Gabriel's reply came instantly. “Yes, she is, and I hope we shall.”

Gabriel had said he would tell this man what he expected to hear, not the truth, but I wondered if he was thinking of me. I drained the champagne glass still clutched in my hand, only this time to steady my nerves.

“Good man. Have many sons, and you shall remain immortal through them,” he said with a sense of pride.

“Your wife tells me your youngest is missing?”

I leaned back, concerned that as Sir Montmorency turned he might catch sight of me.

“Yes. We haven't been able to find him for several weeks now, but it's not the first time he has disappeared only to return with a heavy head. My daughter-in-law is troubled, though.
Women
,” he mocked.

My attention switched from the conversation in the study to the sound of footsteps coming up the staircase. Fearing I had outstayed my welcome, as quietly as I could, I backed away from the room.

Just as I turned around, I collided with a figure, and he grabbed my arms quickly, keeping me from falling. The champagne flute in my hand dropped to the floor, and the guy bent down to retrieve it. “Are you lost?” he asked, and as he returned to a standing position, one hand still clutching my arm, his gaze traveled up the length of my dress until his eyes finally rested on mine.

I was taken aback. I knew him, and automatically a huge grin spread over my face, accompanied by a nervous laugh. “Yes, a little. I'm sorry,” I whispered, unsure whether he would recognize me.

“Darwin, what's going on out there?” Sir Montmorency's voice traveled from the doorway, and I was relieved that it wasn't Gabriel who had come to investigate the commotion.

Darwin's smooth lips stretched as he smiled at me. “I was just giving my friend here a tour of the upstairs.”

I didn't dare look over my shoulder in case Gabriel had been drawn out, and I was thankful to hear the heavy steel handle push down as Sir Montmorency clanked the door firmly shut.

“Well, you've certainly blossomed in a short time.… Still dropping glasses, though, I see.” Darwin's jade-green eyes slanted from behind his retro tortoiseshell glasses, which highlighted the small bump just below the arch of his nose, giving him a welcome human imperfection.

“You remember me?” I asked quietly.

“Well, you look
different
, but I never forget a face, especially one with a smile as lovely as yours. You might want to rethink your contacts, though—bit too X-Men even for my liking.”

“Well, look who's talking. This, I believe, is a very upmarket occasion, and yet you're wearing a T-shirt with the number forty-two and a little planet on it.”

It was true, Darwin was every inch the gentleman—his smart suit and brogues certainly gave that impression—but his dark-blond hair, gelled back at the top into a hair tie, with his short back and sides combed neatly underneath, and that T-shirt … Well, a debonair gentleman he might be, but that shirt branded him as nothing short of a geek. But then he knew as much; he'd told me so when we'd met.

“It's my father's party, but given I live here, I can walk around wearing what I like. And forty-two, just so you know, is the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything. Well, according to
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
, of course.”

“Of course…” I said. I was excited to see Darwin again—he had been kind to me when we'd met—but he was the son of Sir Montmorency. And Sir Montmorency did business with Angels. That was enough to make me wary.

Releasing them from my left hand, I let my stilettos clatter to the floor, and I slipped the soles of my feet back into the stiff patent material. Darwin pursed his lips, taking both my hands in his, and stepped back from me, giving my outfit the full once-over with an arched eyebrow. “I'd ask you what you're doing here.… I'd even demand to know why, when I came back to the pub to see you, you had disappeared. But all I want to do right this moment is tell you that you look stunning.”

I blushed. “Thank you, that's very generous of you to say.”

“Nothing generous about it. I am a fella with very discerning taste. Come, let's catch up.” He released my hands, gesturing for me to follow him down the landing.

I hesitated. “It's lovely to see you, but I should really get back to the party.”

Darwin opened his mouth, but didn't say anything. Instead, his attention found its way to my crystal gem.

I had a feeling Darwin wanted a closer inspection of my crystal. He'd been interested in it the night we met in the pub where I was working in Creigiau, a few nights before I came across Jonah. His car, carrying himself and his friends, had broken down outside, en route to Holyhead, and he had made an effort to befriend me that evening. He'd even tried to persuade me to travel to Chelsea with him, on his way back from his business trip, but I met Jonah the night before he returned.