Sins of the Warrior (18 page)

Green eyes opened again, and then Michael strode to the bed, stuffed the sweater in with her other clothes, and zipped the bag shut. He held it out to her, his black wings unfurling with a thousand
snicks
of battle-ready feathers. “We need to go.”

They landed in the Downtown Eastside alley where they’d met Henderson once before, back on the night Seth had gone missing and they’d found him in the company of Lucifer. Alex had wanted to go straight to the apartment, but Henderson had been so evasive about the idea that Michael had suggested the alley instead. Arriving after dark, in a neighborhood where most inhabitants were under the influence of one mind-altering substance or another, would be the best way to ensure no one noticed them, he’d said. And Henderson would know exactly where to find them.

Alex would have preferred just about anywhere else, given the memories attached to the location, but she’d known Michael was right, and so she’d swallowed her arguments. And Henderson, bless his heart, didn’t give the memories much room when they did arrive. Alex hadn’t even cleared the cocoon of Michael’s wings in the dank alley when strong arms enveloped her in a bear hug and lifted her from her feet, duffle bag and all.

“Damn, but it’s good to see you,” a voice rumbled beneath her cheek.

“I might say the same,” Alex mumbled into his coat, “if I could see you.”

Henderson chuckled and set her back on her feet. But he didn’t release her, instead holding her at arms’ length, hands clamped over her shoulders, studying her by the faint light coming into the alley from the lamp-lit street.

“Better?” he asked. Then he promptly pulled her in for a second hug. “You have no idea how many gray hairs you’ve given me these last few weeks, Jarvis. I swear to God, you’re the worst person on the planet for returning phone calls.”

“I’ve been a little busy.”

“I know.” Hugh gave her a final squeeze and then released her. She braced for the barrage of questions, but the Vancouver detective looked past her at the waiting Michael and shook his head. “Later. I’m in a no parking zone. We should go.”

“To…?”

“My apartment, of course.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want us there.”

“I didn’t want you appearing out of thin air. I don’t think Liz’s nerves are quite up to that just yet.” Henderson took the duffle bag from her and started toward the street. Alex fell into step beside him.

“Liz?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Henderson took a set of keys from his pocket and pressed a fob. A nearby sedan gave two chirps and flashed its headlights. “Elizabeth Riley and I are living together.”

“You and Riley,” Alex muttered for the tenth time, watching the ascension of numbers on the elevator panel. “How did I not see that one coming?”

Hugh gave her a sideways look of exasperation. “Maybe because you’ve been, I don’t know…otherwise occupied? Christ, Jarvis, it’s not like we were dating or anything. How could you see it coming?
We
didn’t see it coming.”

She grunted. “Still. I should have noticed something. There had to have been signs.”

And it would have been so much better if she’d had advance warning. Time to wrap her head around the idea. Henderson and Riley. Laid-back but highly effective cop, and uptight, highly irritating shrink. Talk about oil and water. She shook her head. Henderson was right: She couldn’t have seen it coming if she’d tried.

The elevator door slid open and Henderson put a hand out to hold it aside. “After you. Apartment—”

“I remember,” she interrupted, stepping into the hallway she and Seth had so often traversed when Henderson had taken them in just short weeks ago. She stuffed her fists into her pockets. Seth had been caught in a tug of war between Heaven and Hell, with the fate of humanity resting on his choice, so it had hardly been a good time, but it had been…enough. Threaded through with a fragile hope, peppered with moments that drew them together and connected them. She’d seen his potential then. Believed in it.

Believed in herself.

A gentle hand in the small of her back nudged her forward. Michael, who hadn’t said a word since their arrival, his green eyes slanting a question at her.
Are you all right?

She tried not to be bitter about his sudden concern for her well-being.

She failed.

“I said I’d help you,” she growled, “and I will. You can stop pretending I matter beyond that.”

He scowled. “I didn’t—”

The door to apartment 2016 opened, cutting him off. Elizabeth Riley stood in the doorway, wire-framed glasses framing a gaze even more knowing than Michael’s. Alex’s shoulders hunched. Hell. She should have known better than to come back here. Should have insisted on a hotel. She sucked in a hiss of air. Understanding flickered in Riley’s sharp blue eyes and she stepped back.

“Come in,” she said. “I’ve made coffee.”

Alex lasted less than a minute inside the door before she snapped.

“Stop it!” she snarled at Henderson, who was taking her coat from her shoulders while Riley moved serenely from kitchen to dining room, carrying a tray.

Riley and Henderson both froze. Michael’s gaze narrowed.

“Just stop it,” Alex said again. She pulled the coat back over her shoulders and ran a shaking hand over her hair. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” Elizabeth asked.

Did her voice always have to sound so goddamn reasonable?

“This.” Alex waved at the room. At Henderson, at the coffee tray, at the apartment transformed into a home by Riley’s presence. “Any of it. I can’t sit and make small talk. I can’t drink coffee. I can’t be here.”

“Because of the memories?” Hugh’s voice was gruff. “I wondered about that. We can go out instead, if you’d—”

“It’s not the memories.” Alex’s gaze strayed to the door of the room she’d stayed in when she was here. The room where Lucifer had come to her as Seth. Where he’d—

“It’s not
just
the memories,” she amended. “It’s the normal. I can’t do normal, Hugh. I’m sorry, but I can’t. Not anymore. It’s best if you just tell me where I can find Emmanuelle so I can get this over with.”

“I wish it was that easy, Alex, but it’s not. We’re going to have to wait until she turns up.”

“What the hell do you mean, turns up? You said you’d found her.”

“We have a confirmed sighting, but—” Hugh broke off with a frown directed at Michael. “Didn’t he tell you any of this?”

Alex met Michael’s flat gaze. Tempting as it might be to let him take the blame, it wouldn’t be fair. She sighed. “I didn’t give him the chance. I had…stuff to deal with.”

At least this explained Michael’s insistence that she bring extra clothing with her.

“How long?” she asked Hugh.

“A day. Two. Maybe a week. Her movements aren’t predictable.”

“Her movements? You mean you’ve been tracking her?”

It was Hugh’s turn to sigh. “Come in,” he said. “Take your coat off. Sit. I know nothing is normal, Alex, and I’m not pretending that it is. But if we have to talk anyway, it may as well be over a drink. Agreed?”

Across the apartment, Riley did an about-face and carried the tray back into the kitchen. Glass clinked against glass. She emerged again with four tumblers and a bottle of Scotch. Alex met the calm in her gaze, the understanding in Henderson’s, the wary stubbornness in Michael’s. She scowled, knowing she’d lost.

“Fine,” she growled. “But just one.”

ALEX TOOK THE DRINK
from Riley but declined an invitation to sit. Keeping her distance from Michael, who had taken up a post near the doors that led to the balcony, she paced the living room floor, waiting for Riley and Henderson to settle onto one of the sofas. Henderson draped an arm around Riley’s shoulders; she rested a hand on his knee. Alex shook her head.

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around the two of you together,” she muttered. “When did you decide?”

“When Liz came back from seeing you in Toronto.”

“Any particular catalyst?”

“Apart from knowing the world could end at any given minute?” Hugh shrugged. “I’ve wasted too many years schlepping around my personal baggage. The threat of Armageddon kind of changed my outlook.”

Alex watched the tender look her colleague slanted toward the woman tucked against his side.
The threat of Armageddon
. At some point, Henderson would figure out for himself that it wasn’t just a threat anymore. She didn’t need to tell him. Not yet. She took a swallow of Scotch.

“So. Emmanuelle,” she said.

Hugh shook his head. “I know, right? What are the chances she’d turn up here in Vancouver?”

“It’s not as much of a coincidence as you think,” Michael said, and all heads turned to him. His gaze met Alex’s. “In retrospect, I should have realized she was here.”

“How could you have known?”

“Seth. His transition here instead of Toronto, where he wanted to be. Where you were.” Michael slid his hands into his pockets. “There had to have been something to draw him here. A connection even stronger than the one he felt for you at the time. I just didn’t put the events together.”

Silence followed his words, thick with speculation that none of them wanted to voice. How much of the last two weeks wouldn’t have happened if Heaven had found Emmanuelle sooner? How many would still be alive?

On the other hand, how many more might be dead?

Alex closed her eyes and knocked back the rest of her drink. She helped herself to more.

“None of that matters,” she said. “I’m just interested in where we find her now. Hugh?”

“We’re watching the bar she frequents,” Henderson said. “As soon as she shows up, Criminal Intelligence will let me know.”

“Criminal Intelligence?” Alex echoed.

“Didn’t Michael tell you? That’s who recognized her from the intelligence alert. She’s been a CI for the last three years.”

Alex choked on a mouthful of Scotch. Coughed. Caught her breath. Then blinked through watery eyes at Hugh. A confidential informant. “Seriously? For what, drugs?”

“And money laundering. And human trafficking. And just about any other organized crime activity you can think of.”

Alex’s gaze sought Michael’s grim one. He’d known this, and he still wanted to find her?

“She runs with a gang of bikers,” Henderson continued. “Former Hells Angels, most of them. A few Outlaws. A rumored Mongol or two.”

“Rival gang members? They’d kill each other before they’d run together.”

“I know.” Henderson gave a shrug. “But they’re running together anyway.”

Another glance at Michael. The level of grimness hadn’t changed. She scowled at him. “And you’re okay with this?” she demanded. “Even though we’ve confirmed she’s involved in criminal activity, you still think it’s okay to put her in charge of Heaven?”

“But she’s not really involved in criminal activity, is she?” Riley put in. “If she’s an informant…”

Alex ignored her. She stayed focused on Michael, trying—and failing—to read the impassive face.

“You’re really that desperate?” she asked.

“
We
are that desperate,” he said quietly.

She turned back to Hugh. “How long to find her?”

“Like I said, we have eyes on a bar out near Delta. She hasn’t been there for a few days, so she’s due to turn up soon. We’ll know as soon as she’s spotted.”

“That could take forever.”

“It’s the best I’ve got.”

“And in the meantime?”

Riley spoke up again. “In the meantime, you can stay at my old condo. We haven’t gotten around to fully combining households yet, so you’ll be comfortable. Maybe you can try catching up on some sleep.”

Alex shot her a look of annoyance. “Is that supposed to be some kind of comment?”

Riley arched a brow. “Should it be?”

Damn, but Alex hated that too-knowing blue gaze. Ignoring the question, she switched her attention to Michael. “I want to go back to Toronto. We can wait there as well as we can here, and you can bring us back when—
if
—Emmanuelle is found.”

One shoulder resting against the glass door, Michael regarded her calmly. “Bethiel is already looking for your niece. There’s nothing more you can do.”

And she hated the too-knowing
green
gaze, too.

She lifted her chin. “Maybe not, but I can sure as hell do more there than I can here. And at least I’ll be doing
some
thing.”

Unlike other beings she knew.

Michael ignored the unspoken accusation. “You’ll also be opening yourself up to attack. Seth will begin his search for you there.”

“I have you to protect me.”

“Part of protecting you is keeping you out of danger in the first place.” Michael straightened up from the doorframe. Black wings unfurled ever so slightly behind his back, just enough to remind her of who he was and how useless it would be to argue with him. “We’re staying here.”

“This will be for you,” Michael said.

Alex looked up from her exploration of Riley’s condo kitchen. As unplanned as their arrival in Vancouver had been, Riley had still managed to stock a few essentials: eggs, bread, oranges, milk. Unfortunately, however, Alex had found none of the coffee she so desperately needed right now. She scowled at Michael’s cryptic words.

“What will be for—”

A knock sounded at the door.

Michael returned to his study of the postage-stamp sized garden outside the French doors off the living room. She stared at his back, then went to the door. Riley greeted her with determined cheerfulness.

“I thought you might like this.” The psychiatrist held up a small brown bag, its wire top folded down. “Freshly ground.”

With a scant three hours of sleep under her belt, Alex wouldn’t have cared if the coffee had been sitting on a shelf for a decade, as long as its caffeine content was still there. She reached for the bag, but Riley sidestepped her.

“Why don’t I make us both a cup, and then we can get caught up?”

Do I have a choice?
Alex held back the inhospitable words with an effort. She couldn’t very well throw Riley out of her own home—even if the psychiatrist wasn’t technically living here any longer. She followed her into the kitchen, glancing at the screen of the cell phone she’d left on the island counter. Still nothing from Henderson.