Generation 18 (Spook Squad 2)

Gabriel disconnected and met Sam’s gaze. “Miranda’s one of my adopted sisters, in case you were wondering.”

She smiled slightly. “One of? How many do you have?”

“Four adopted and two full sisters.” And one dead brother, he thought grimly. Lord, he did not want to lose anyone else. He guzzled the rest of his beer and stood up. “I have to go. Be careful with the general. Remember, he probably has his own reasons for being here.”

She nodded. “I’ll give you a call and let you know what happened.”

“Do that.” He dug the car keys out of his pocket and dropped them into her hand. “Take my car. You can pick me up in the morning.”

She nodded, and Gabriel walked from the room. Han was in the process of heading into the kitchen and stopped in surprise.

“You’re leaving your pretty lady so soon?”

“She’s not my pretty lady—or my anything else, for that matter.”

Han’s smile was disbelieving. “I saw you together, my friend. Lie to yourself, if you wish, but I have seen the truth.”

“What you’ve seen is the natural attraction of a man for a beautiful woman in a formfitting outfit. Half the men in this restaurant looked at her that way.”

Han’s smile was gentle, almost mocking. “As you wish, my friend. What can I do for you?”

“Keep an eye on her for me. As I said, I don’t trust the general, but I have to leave.”

“She will come to no harm in my restaurant. I shall monitor them, if you like.”

“I like. Thanks, Han.” He clapped the big man on the shoulder and quickly left. In the shadows of the bridge, he shapechanged and headed for Greenvale.

—

So much for dressing to kill, Sam thought, watching Gabriel’s retreat. Even if he had admitted his attraction, he’d actually taken about as much notice of her as he would have a gnat doing the cancan.

She leaned back in her chair and toyed with her drink. As a seductress, she’d been a miserable failure. Beyond his initial surprise, he’d given no reaction, and made no comment about how she looked. Nor had he had any obvious physical reaction to her caressing him suggestively with her toes.

Maybe he really did prefer tall, leggy blondes to short, slender redheads.

She sipped her water and stared at the dancing dragons. After a while, a waitress came in and placed a platter of hors d’oeuvres on the table. She nodded her thanks and glanced at her watch. Ten past eleven. The general was late. She hoped he wasn’t reneging. The evening would be a total waste if he did.

As if on cue, the door opened. Han came into the room, followed by two men. Heat tingled a warning across her skin.

The general wasn’t human, nor was the man who accompanied him.

“Would you gentlemen like a drink?” Han asked.

“Two coffees,” the general replied, his tone almost offhand.

“Two coffees it is.” Han’s gaze touched hers. “I’m only a call away if you need anything else.”

She nodded. It was good to know Han was close. There was something about these two men she didn’t trust, and it was more than just the warning itching her skin.

Somewhere, sometime, she’d met the general before. There was something horribly familiar in the way he walked.

The two men sat opposite her. The general’s companion was in his mid-twenties, with red-gold hair and green-gray eyes. He could have been Harry Maxwell’s brother. Could have been her brother.

Maybe he was.

If Hopeworth was playing with genetics, and if she was somehow connected to Hopeworth, then anything was possible.

“Samantha Ryan, I presume?” the general said.