Generation 18 (Spook Squad 2)
She ignored it and rose. She brushed past him, trying to ignore the tingling warmth that resulted from such a brief contact, and walked over to the coffee table to collect her bag. “There’s a cab rank down the street. I’ll catch a ride there.”
“It’s two thirty in the morning.”
“And I’m a cop with a gun. I think I can manage to survive a three-minute walk in the dark.”
“I have no problem driving you home.”
“But I have.” She snorted softly, then added, “You can’t play it both ways, Gabriel.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I am merely offering you a ride home. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Fine,” he muttered, and made an oddly violent motion with his hand. “Go, then.”
She walked out. And, for the second time in twenty-four hours, slammed a door shut with wall-shaking force.
—
Gabriel grabbed his coat, then set his apartment’s alarm sensors as he walked out the door. Once he reached the street, he changed shape and soared into the night skies.
He had no doubt Sam could survive the three-minute walk to the cab rank. Under normal conditions, he’d expect her to survive just about anything the streets could throw at her. But in the last twenty-four hours she’d been given an overdose of Jadrone and had had very little sleep. Her reflexes, strength, even alertness would be compromised. If someone did actually want to take her out, it would be the perfect time.
He spotted her within minutes—an angry-looking shadow striding toward the cab rank. He circled slowly while she climbed into the vehicle, then followed it through the quiet city streets.
She got home without incident. He waited until the lights went on in her apartment, then wheeled away and headed for his brother’s place in Toorak.
A bleary-eyed Stephan opened the door as Gabriel walked up the steps.
“Do you know what time it is?” Stephan asked.
“Yeah. It’s time for a drink.” Gabriel stopped on the top step and regarded his twin steadily. The shadows under Stephan’s eyes were darker than ever, but at least he no longer looked like death. “Why are you up?”
“Lyssa’s been throwing up half the night.”
Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “She’s close to term. Shouldn’t the morning sickness be over by now?”
“It should be. And the term ‘morning sickness’ is definitely a misnomer.” He stepped aside. “Let’s go into the study.”
Gabriel followed Stephan through the marbled entrance hall. It was hard to believe that only three months ago, this house had been little more than a crater in the ground. Everything was the same, right down to the knickknacks that lined the bookcase shelves.
Stephan closed the study door and walked to the bar. “Whiskey?”
“Double. No ice.”
Stephan raised an eyebrow. “Trouble with the case?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Gabriel accepted his drink and swallowed half of it in one gulp. The liquid burned its way down his throat, hitting his stomach with the force of a hot brick. Not wanting to answer that particular question just yet, he said, “How are things going with Lyssa?”
Stephan shrugged. “As well as can be expected, given I was fucking another woman for six months.”
“She could hardly blame you when that woman was her exact replica.”
“Not exact.” Stephan grimaced and took a long drink. “There were differences in behavioral patterns when I think about it. I should have picked them up.”