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Authors: Jamie Craig

BOOK: Revealing Silver
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“What I’ve destroyed? Are you kidding me? You kidnapped teenage girls. Remy is gone because of you. I’ll probably never know how many people died while you were searching for that fucking thing.”

“I saved those girls from their pathetic, sorry lives. I gave them something more than their parents ever could. I don’t expect you to understand. In fact, I don’t expect you to understand anything. I suspect Pierce and Wright have to explain the bigger words to you.”

“Well, they’re not here, which leaves you to do the job for them.”

Gabriel just stopped from rolling his eyes. “Where’s my lawyer?”

“Come on, you don’t need him. I’m not interested in your crimes or trying to get you to incriminate yourself. We already have an airtight case. You’re a dead man walking. All I want is a civilized conversation about the Silver Maiden.”

“Then this is going to be the most disappointing Christmas since you caught Santa drilling your mom.”

Isaac leaned back in his chair. “What’s the big deal? I already know they can send people through time, not to mention the visions.”

The anger returned. Gabriel had done short stints in jail before but he never stuck around for long. There was always a loophole, always a palm to slick. He’d never resented incarceration like this. Never been so close to losing control. He imagined grabbing McGuire by the scruff of the neck and slamming his face into the table, bashing his head into the wall, leaving him as nothing more than pulp on the floor. He’d killed men like that before, and fuck, it might be worth it to do it again. Even if he got the chair for it.

“You’re a veritable expert. What do you need me for?”

“I only see the final result. You’re the one who understands what makes them tick.”

“What possible motivation would I have to help you understand? You and I both know you aren’t going to cut me any deals. Even if you wanted to play ball, you’re asking me to hand over the secrets to an ancient power.”

“Not all of them. I’m interested in the effect it can have on people. Other than making them sick from the visions.”

Gabriel perked up. “Oh, that’s sweet. You’re worried about your girlfriend, are you?”

A muscle twitched in Isaac’s jaw. Good. He’d gotten to the son of a bitch. “Considering Nathan’s girlfriend disappeared in a flash of blue light, yeah, you can say I’m a little worried about Detective Wright.”

“Her disappearance isn’t my problem. And as gallant as you undoubtedly are, trust me, Detective Wright is more than capable of taking care of herself.”

“Not when she’s holding one of those coins, she can’t.”

Isaac’s grim announcement prompted a laugh from Gabriel. The first genuine laugh in what felt like months. At least this visit hadn’t been a complete waste of time. “She’s in no danger from the coins.”

“The last time she had one of those visions, she almost passed out. How do I know next time, she won’t end up dead?”

“She has a dangerous job. How do you know the next time she goes to work she won’t end up shot?”

“I don’t. But at least she’s been trained to handle a gun. When it comes to those coins, she’s flying blind.”

“She was born to handle the coins.”

Another visible reaction, this one more pronounced as Isaac sat up straight against the back of the chair. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ask her.”

“Haven’t you been listening to me? There’s no instruction manual. She knows as little as I do about the Silver Maiden.”

He picked a bit of lint from his pants wondering, not for the first time, how McGuire and his posse managed to destroy all his plans. Well, it hadn’t been McGuire at all. Olivia Wright and her visions had been primarily responsible for his downfall, and she probably could have accomplished it without McGuire’s assistance. The coins had led Olivia right to him, but that had been his own fault. Despite his best efforts, Stacy had never accepted her role in the grander scheme of things. The coins had helped Olivia because she was born to protect the priestesses. They were dealing with an ancient power and relics from a forgotten age. He couldn’t exactly explain that, for all Stacy’s crying and hysterics, she’d never been in any actual
danger
. He would never hurt his girls—the Maiden’s girls.

“Haven’t you been listening to me? I’m not telling you shit, and your girlfriend knows more than she’s let on.”

“You’re lying. I was there the last time she picked up the coin. I was the one who had to hold on to her because seeing what you did to Stacy made her sick. Nothing you can say will convince me she went into that with full knowledge. Nothing.”

Gabriel yawned, now thoroughly bored with the conversation. “That’s not what I said. And whether you believe me or not, it makes absolutely no difference to me.”

Arms across the chest again. McGuire needed a new routine. This one had gotten stale years ago. “Kind of like you missing your cell block party makes no difference to me. I’ve got all night.”

Gabriel dropped his head back to study the ceiling. When he got out, he was going to kill McGuire with his own two hands. Just because he was clearly too stupid to live. The good cops usually were, in his experience. The really smart ones always got along better on the other side of the law. Like McGuire’s old partner. What Nathan did as a bounty hunter could almost be called kidnapping, especially when he was pulling thugs on Isaac’s orders. It was a shame to think about what might have been if Susanna had done her job. Working with Parker had been one hell of an expensive mistake.

“Well, if spending Christmas Eve with me makes you happy, who am I to complain?”

Gabriel would happily serve as a bit of a distraction for the good detective. As long as McGuire was slamming his head against this particular wall, he wouldn’t be using the coins to get in Marisol’s way. This was exactly why Isaac made an excellent cop and a piss-poor tough guy. In the end, he actually gave a fuck. He had an infinite amount of power sitting in his sock drawer, and he was too stupid to let go of his feelings and seize the opportunity. As long as Isaac kept bellowing about the coins being dangerous, Gabriel would have the upper hand.

Chapter Four

Some families enjoyed quiet, low-key Christmases with comforting traditions whose origins had long since been lost in the murky fog of time. Some families made Clark Griswald look like the love child of Ebenezer Scrooge and the Grinch. Olivia’s parents had always been more of the latter. She watched
Christmas Vacation
with a twinge of longing—why couldn’t her own father take such a measured, reasonable view toward the holiday? She had amazing memories of Christmas mornings, and perhaps unnaturally inflated expectations of how the holiday should play out. It wasn’t Isaac’s fault she’d built the day up in her head, desperately clinging to any normality while everything else spun out of control.

He showed up a little before eight, as he promised, but it was clear he hadn’t slept a wink. He wore a clean shirt—the one he kept at his desk—but he hadn’t bothered to shave, his eyes were bloodshot, and his mouth set in a thin line. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what the hell had been so important he needed to leave her, without explanation, on Christmas Eve, but she held her tongue. They’d been on edge with each other since Remy’s disappearance, and she didn’t want to spoil breakfast by inadvertently starting another fight.

She hoped the massive, traditional Christmas-breakfast-feast would be enough to put a smile on his face, but since Nathan refused to speak to him, food lost its luster for Isaac. He picked at the plate she served him, dutifully eating bite after bite without comment. Isaac always commented on food. He
always
had an opinion about eggs and bacon, a speech prepared for inadequate gravy, a lecture about the dangers of burnt bacon. Now he ate mechanically, taking no pleasure in it at all.

It broke her heart to see him like this, barely a shadow of the vital man she’d fallen head over heels for. There was more than a prick of guilt over her own contribution to his foul mood. He loved her and he didn’t want to see her hurt—she understood and respected that. But he refused to meet her halfway on the issue. She wasn’t looking forward to holding the coin. She didn’t want a vision. She wanted nothing to do with the Silver Maiden, with magical rites, ancient occult beliefs, and whatever the hell else was going on. But she wanted to bring those missing girls home. She wanted to find Remy. She wanted to save Nathan before his tenuous hold on reality slipped and he nosedived into the dark pit he’d dug for himself.

Mainly, though, she wanted Isaac to be himself again. Smiling, flirting, wry, full of opinions on clothes and food and music even though he mostly had terrible taste in all three.

Olivia insisted she’d clean up, sending him into the living room to spend time with Tiberius. He sat on the edge of the couch, playing tug-of-war with the new rope braid—a Christmas present he’d dutifully given to the dog. Every time Tiberius jerked it free of his hands a ghost of a smile skated across Isaac’s face, but it faded when she emerged from the kitchen.

“How long before we head over to Nathan’s?”

“A few hours. Do you want to catch a few winks?” It was more of a suggestion than a question, but Isaac failed to notice.

“Want to? Yeah. Do I think I actually could? Not on your life.” He tossed the toy to the floor, abandoning the game with Tiberius, and sank deeper into the cushions. “It was a long night. And not a productive one.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not if it’s going to start another fight.”

Olivia winced at the echo of her earlier thoughts. If any of her other relationships had devolved into tension so quickly, she would have been long gone. “Why would it start another fight? Where did you go?”

He brushed something off his pants leg, though she was pretty sure nothing was there. “I pulled Gabriel out of his cell and put him in an interrogation room for six hours, during which time we mostly stared at each other because I had this ridiculous idea I could get him to tell me something about the Silver Maiden to help you today.”

“Oh.” Olivia slid her arm around Isaac’s back, resting her cheek on his shoulder. He leaned into the embrace. He mostly smelled of stale coffee, but she caught a comforting hint of his cologne. “Did he say anything helpful at all? He’s the king of stonewalling.”

At her query, a muscle tensed beneath her. Isaac’s pause only confirmed her suspicion something had been said in their silent contest of wills, something that still clearly bugged him.

“He told me you weren’t in any danger from the coins. That…you were born to handle them, whatever the hell that means.”

Olivia studied the tense line of his jaw from beneath her lashes. Did she want to have this conversation now? No. Was there a better time for it? Not really. There was no time but now to talk about it. “Did he say anything else about that?”

“He wouldn’t. He kept implying you were holding out on me. I know he said it to piss me off, and I know I shouldn’t let it bother me like this, but…” His voice trailed off, whatever reasons he had undefined for now.

“Do you think he was telling you the truth about me? I mean, being born to handle them.”

This answer was longer coming. “I didn’t. Not at first. I mean, even if it wasn’t so bizarre to believe, that’s too coincidental. Think of all the things that had to line up for you to even find out about the coins. And if one of them hadn’t been there?” He shook his head. “I’d rather throw my money away on the lottery. But then…well, there’s the visions. Nobody else gets those. So why you?”

Why her, indeed. There was nothing left to do but confess and hope he understood. “He called me a Keeper, when I rescued Stacy. He seemed pretty excited about the fact that I felt her pain. I seemed to have a sympathetic response whenever he hurt her. He said something about destiny, and it probably saved my life, since he stopped Marisol from shooting me in the back.”

She had to straighten when Isaac pulled away, shifting on the couch to face her. “So he wasn’t stringing me along?” His dark eyes flashed with hurt. “You’ve known this since the night Remy disappeared.”

“Well, yes, I knew what he said, but I didn’t automatically take his word as gospel. It’s not like he gave me any sort of explanation. And I don’t expect to get one from him now.”

“But you never even mentioned it.”

“I know. I should have. But I didn’t want to worry you any more than you already are.”

“Did you tell Nathan?”

“I mentioned it last night when I told him I’d try to use the coin if he agreed not to break open that bottle.”

She expected the walls to slam down. If she thought he’d take the conversation well, she wouldn’t have put it off for days. But lying wasn’t a long-term option.

At least he didn’t walk out. “Is this your way of getting back at me because of what happened the night of your parents’ party?”

“Getting back at you?” The argument at her parents’ Christmas party over whether or not she could take care of herself hadn’t entered her mind. As far as she was concerned, that fight was over and done with. “No, Isaac, of course not. I didn’t tell anybody. I don’t even know what it means. I didn’t want to give you more things to worry about.”

“But you could tell Nathan, who watched the woman he apparently loves more than life itself disappear in front of his eyes. I guess he can handle it better than I can?”

Olivia pulled away from him, searching his face, torn between irritation and sympathy. She hadn’t known him for long—though it felt like years—but she’d never seen him look so haggard. She wanted to pull him against her and hold him until he slept. Another part of her wanted to tell him to get the hell out because she didn’t need to put up with this bullshit on Christmas. What was she supposed to do? Apologize because this destiny, this pile of turds she now had to deal with, wasn’t all about him?

“I don’t know how he handled it. He’s completely disengaged. But thank you for asking how
I
handled it.”

He grimaced at her last statement, tearing his gaze away to rest his head in his hands. “Shit.” He released a long, heavy breath, his fingers digging into his scalp. “I hate those damn coins. The world made so much more sense before they fell into our laps.”

“No shit. But we can’t ignore them now. Or the fact that they’re our best bet for finding Remy again.”

He looked up again, his eyes fixed forward on Tiberius as he gnawed at the toy rope. The urge to reach out and knead away the tension between his shoulder blades returned.

“Do I have to wear the antlers over to Nathan’s? He already thinks I’m an idiot. I’m not sure they’ll add much to my credibility.”

“If I thought they’d make him smile, I’d say yes.” Olivia leaned forward, pressing her lips to his cheek. “We don’t have to go for a while, though. We could go lie down.”

“You’re willing to risk me falling asleep and not waking up until New Year’s?”

“I’ll make sure you get up. Please, Isaac. I’d feel better if you didn’t look like you were dead on your feet.”

He cast a crooked smile in her direction. “That good, huh? Well, when you put it like that, how can I resist?”

Olivia cupped the side of his face and pulled him to her until their mouths touched. Isaac relaxed into the kiss immediately, following her lead. She didn’t have ulterior motives in nudging him to bed, but she couldn’t deny she’d missed him all night. He should have mentioned his plan to visit Gabriel, but then he might have predicted she’d discourage him. There was no doubt in her mind they’d have to force more information from Gabriel, but given the extralegal status of magical coins, they’d have to find something big to hold over his head. Something he wanted, or something he wanted to keep hidden.

“Is that a bit harder to resist?”

His response was to reach for her hand and pull her with him when he stood. “Will wearing the antlers in bed make
you
smile?”

“It’ll make me laugh. Do you think your ego could withstand my chuckles?”

“Keep your eyes up and we won’t have any problems.”

“Let’s see.” Olivia took the antlers from the end table and slid them over Isaac’s head. “Oh my. I think I’ve discovered a new kink.”

His corresponding scowl only added to the effect. “Don’t even think about the bright red nose.”

“But it would be so cute.”

“Do you want me to take them off?”

Olivia pouted. “Okay, okay, no red nose. For now.”

He started to pull her toward the bedroom. “You could always wear the red nose.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck and kicked the door shut behind them. “It only looks right if you’ve got the antlers on.”

That might have actually been a glimmer in his eye. “Sales start tomorrow. We can get a matching one for half off.”

“Oh, aren’t you clever.” He might have sighed his agreement before their mouths fused together, discussion of antlers and red noses completely forgotten.

 

Despite Olivia’s newly assigned role of mediator between Isaac and Nathan, she barely understood their relationship at all. She grasped aspects of it. The bond that developed between work partners who had witnessed the very depth of human depravity and rescued innocent people from real-life monsters daily. The link between best friends, when speaking became redundant and there were enough memories to sustain even the most strained connection. She was close to her siblings, and was raised in a very tight-knit family, so familial love was familiar to her. But Isaac and Nathan took elements of each relationship, merged them together, then went a step beyond. Sometimes she wondered if they’d ever slept together, but she’d probably never know either way. It helped that she knew despite their odd relationship and Isaac’s love for the divas, her boyfriend was very, very straight.

She did understand one thing, though. Nathan needed Isaac. Why he was cutting himself off from the one person who would do anything for him, Olivia didn’t know. Yes, he blamed Isaac for stopping him from following Remy, but blindly leaping into a magical portal didn’t seem like a recipe for success. She tried to be patient with Nathan, bring him food, coax him away from alcohol, encourage him to call Isaac, but she privately thought Isaac was one hundred percent in the right. Isaac had said that if he could do it all over again, he wouldn’t change a thing, and she supported him. One day, Nathan would realize the same thing. She hoped that day would be soon, because the enforced separation was wearing both of them down.

Nathan never answered the door when she knocked, so she had acquired Isaac’s key and stopped knocking. The apartment was dark and cool, empty of any signs of the holiday. Did Nathan have decorations? Probably not. He didn’t strike her as the sort who got involved with the Christmas spirit.

But the bottle of vodka was exactly where she last saw it, unopened. Assuming that was the same bottle.

“Nathan?”

“In the kitchen.”

Olivia stepped inside, gesturing for Isaac to follow her. “I have the coin. And Isaac.”

Resting a little had helped dispel the worst of the shadows beneath Isaac’s eyes, but the lines bracketing his mouth would take a lot more than a catnap. He held two gift bags, items he’d removed from his loaner car without explanation when they’d left her house. Though she wasn’t convinced they were such a good idea, maybe he knew something she didn’t. She hoped so.

He was silent as they walked through the living room toward the small kitchen, but his eyes moved constantly, drinking in every detail. She wished she had his knowledge of what normal was around here. It might have helped the past couple of days. The way he lingered on the vodka and the discarded blanket on the couch told her things weren’t normal.

At the kitchen entrance, he hesitated, glancing down at the bags he held. Olivia waited as he turned around and put them on the floor in front of a tall bookshelf, then led the way when he came back to her side.

Nathan had showered and changed his clothes in preparation for their visit, and he was tossing one of the myriad takeout containers she’d brought in the past five days. He didn’t look normal, no more than Isaac did, but he looked
better
. That counted as a victory.

“Merry Christmas,” Olivia greeted.

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