Gabriel's Promise (Gabriel's Inferno 4)

Julianne was his sun and his moon. Someone had treated her unfairly, driving her to tears.

He mopped his face with a towel and rested his arms on his knees. He did not want to go to Edinburgh alone.

Changing Cecilia’s mind was going to be difficult, if not impossible, especially since she seemed to have taken his own recent success as an indictment of her career. Gabriel wanted Julianne to stand up to her—to call her bluff. But Julia wanted to wait and to regroup.

Gabriel was not a man given to waiting. He’d never been so, even after his experience in St. Francis’s crypt. Gabriel was a fighter. He’d be damned if he’d spend one week away from his wife and child, let alone an entire year. And especially not because of some academic’s hurt pride.

Michel appeared in front of him and kicked his foot. “Let’s go. And this time, you need to focus. My grandmother could best you today. And she died thirty years ago.”

Gabriel lifted his head and cast his coach a look that would have frozen water.

Michel appeared amused. “Good afternoon, Gabriel. I was waiting for you to show up.”

With a laugh, Michel retrieved the referee.

Gabriel followed, exhaling fire.

Chapter Thirty

Halloween

October 31, 2012

Cambridge, Massachusetts

Julianne’s cell phone vibrated with a text.

She and Gabriel were trick-or-treating with Clare, while Rebecca remained at the house to hand out candy. Clare, who was not yet two months old, was dressed as a pumpkin. She wore a footed sleeper underneath an orange vest that featured a jack-o’-lantern’s eyes, nose, and mouth. And she wore an orange cap that had a stem attached to it.

Gabriel snapped an infinity of photographs of said pumpkin before they’d even left the house.

He’d balked at the notion of taking Clare trick-or-treating, given her tender age, but once Julia had dressed her in the costume, he changed his mind. The proud papa strutted with Clare in his arms, introducing her to the neighbors, some of whom remarked on the flamboyance of flamingos that had appeared on the Emersons’ lawn back in September. And the single sunglasses-wearing flamingo that still sat in the front yard, much to Gabriel’s embarrassment and Julia’s glee.

The text on Julia’s phone read,

Jules, where the hell are you?

I called the landline and got the machine.

Did you dress Clare for Halloween? I want to see!

Luv, R.

“Who’s that?” Gabriel peered nosily at Julia’s screen.

“Your sister.” Julia texted a response as they walked to the next house.

Hey, Rach.

Sorry about that.

We’re trick-or-treating.

Call me.

Luv, J.

“I haven’t heard from her since before we went to Scotland.” Gabriel adjusted Clare’s cap, for her stem had gone awry. She looked for her mother over his shoulder.