Kissed by Moonlight

Chapter Seven





The next few weeks were uneventful.

Whenever I was around Gabriel, I did my best to keep my distance both emotionally and physically. Whenever he tried to get me alone, I found some reason to leave or only showed up when I knew for a fact that he had someone else in the room with him. I wasn’t avoiding Gabriel because Marcus had warned me away. I was avoiding him because I wanted more than anything to do the exact opposite.


Everything about him fascinated me. From the way he moved and spoke to the quick, almost deadly, way his mind worked. I actually enjoyed seeing him get one over on another company no matter the project in question and finally, after what felt like ages, I found myself looking forward to coming to work. Gabriel challenged me in a way that Dawson never had, and even more appealing, after the incident with Jensen, he began to depend more and more heavily on my insight.

I didn’t even mind being sent on the occasional errand, since it gave me some much needed space away from Marcus. Though admittedly, the other man, who I’d come to learn was actually the head of Gabriel’s security detail, hadn’t bothered me since our little talk.

Everything was going smoothly, at least from a professional standpoint. I hadn’t heard from Sonya since I’d told her about the attack on my apartment. I was ashamed to say that by the time I saw her name come up on my caller ID three weeks later, I’d actually forgotten what I had been sent there to do.

“There’s nothing here,” I told her, leaning against the door of the handicapped stall at Lumière. It was true. I’d searched whenever I could and had called in my favors. After all of that, I had little more than what I’d started out the month with.

Speculation.

“The only thing I’ve managed to find out is that he’s adopted, Marcus is his foster brother, and that he shares ownership of Lumière with six other people.”

“Were you able to get any names?”

“They’re shadows. I don’t even know if they’re men, women, or aliens. The only reason I know they exist at all is because I overheard Gab—Evans and Marcus talking the other day.”

She groaned, but brightened almost instantly. “Well, your luck sucks, but mine doesn’t.”

I refrained, barely, from calling her something nasty. Any progress was good progress at this point. Especially since it didn’t look like I was getting anywhere on my end unless Gabriel slipped up somehow.

“Tell me.”

“Well—” her voice lowered in sudden nervousness, “—I was actually hoping we could go somewhere and talk. I don’t want to say too much over the phone.” She paused for a beat. “Plus,” she added slyly, “I have a little surprise for you.”

My pulse quickened, and all of a sudden I was all hunting instincts and restless energy

“Does this surprise happen to start with a ‘spy’ and end with a ‘camera’?”

“I wouldn’t know you very well if it didn’t.”

“Hot damn, girl, I like you better and better every day.”

Since it was my lunch break, we agreed to meet up at a little diner about two blocks from my new apartment so I could still grab a bite to eat. Bob’s Burgers (no relation to the television show) was a throwback to the golden points of the 40’s and 50’s. The waitresses were required to dress according to the fashion of the era, which mean a lot of faux bangs, pearl necklaces, and bright red lipstick. He even had an old fashioned jukebox and booths covered with red vinyl.

What made BB’s so great wasn’t the fact that it strived for authenticity, but that it kept things modern and fun. Some of the wait staff may have been dressed like Stepford wives and pin-up girls, but they were boasting such a wide array of tattoos and piercings it was like a photo shoot for BAMF monthly. The jukebox was filled with Kesha and Bruno Mars, and the black and white television in the corner over the smoothie bar was playing HBO originals rather than Leave it to Beaver.

Which means it was a physical effort to pry my eyes from the TV (currently showing a re-run of Game of Thrones) long enough to look around the restaurant in search of Sonya. I found her easily enough. She was sitting in a corner booth and giggling with the host, a young man who was a strange mixture between the Fonz from Happy Days and a sultry-eyed James Dean.

Which meant that I forgave the giggling and hair twirling easily enough, especially when she sent the man on his way without fuss once her eyes met mine. I slid in the booth across from her and groaned in approval when I saw my plate. I’d had her place my order for me, and for an instant, I simply let myself bask in the lovely aroma of freshly made fries and a burger thick enough to bitch slap my arteries into whimpering submission.

God bless America.

“Spill.”

The fact that she wasn’t offended, or surprised, over the lack of pleasantries probably meant that Sonya and I were a lot more alike than I’d thought.

“The Huntsmen are being led by a woman names Jessica Pearson.” Reaching into the messenger bag sitting in the seat beside her, she drew out one of those grade school folders that people buy their kids from Wal-Mart when the school year starts. I eyed the colorful depiction of the Avengers on the front, while I stuffed my face with cooked cow and raised an eyebrow at what I could see of her from over my sesame seed bun.

Shrugging, she slid a picture across the table towards me.

The woman in the frame had long dark hair, and a smooth, olive-toned complexion. Her dark brown eyes were nearly black, and she sported these bold Latino features that would have made her a shoo-in for almost any soap opera.

“Jessica Pearson is a forty-two-year-old human rights activist who used to freelance as a computer programmer. Pearson was arrested about ten years back for causing a public disturbance when she wandered into St. Mary’s Cathedral with a gun screaming about the ‘eradication of demons in human flesh.’”

I rolled my eyes. “Overdramatic much?”

Sonya snorted in agreement. “Exactly. Anyway, she fell off the radar for a while, only to resurface a few months ago when she was charged with aggravated assault of a Lumière employee. Which is strange considering who Mrs. Pearson used to work for.”

Gabriel Evans.

Sonya bobbed her head in excitement and said in a singsong sort of voice, “Cue dramatic music sequence.”

I obliged her with a garbled, “Dum, dum, dum,” as I stuffed more French fries in my mouth, amused when she whipped the first picture away with a flourish only to replace it with another.

Then I actually looked at the picture, and nearly choked to death. If she hadn’t slapped my hands away from the glossy 4X6, I would have smeared my lunch residue all over it.

“Marcus Evans,” she told me gleefully, yet again jerking the picture out of my reach when I would have snatched it away. “If Pearson is the brains, then Marcus is the muscle. He’s been supplying the group with weapons and intel for months. Ever since his predecessor, Aubrey Reed, disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“Can you say Jane Doe?” My voice was bitter.

Sonya nodded sadly. “I sure can.”

I stared at the picture of Marcus for a long time, mind racing. A part of me wanted to march back to the office and rat him out to Gabriel, but that part of me wasn’t looking at the big picture.

The rest of me was.

Why would Gabriel trust the word of a stranger over that of a man he’d literally grown up with? Especially when I told him how I’d come by this tidbit of information.

Grabbing a napkin, I wiped some of the carnage off of my face. “So,” I said slowly, “either Marcus is playing two sides, or he’s doing exactly what Gabriel wants him to.”

Frowning, Sonya swiped a fry before I could deprive her of her hand. “What do you mean?”

“Think about it,” I said, tugging my plate closer and huddling protectively over it. Like an inmate, or maybe a hobo. A waitress passed by our table and eyed me carefully. I ignored her. “Forming a new task force, getting the police chief and the mayor on his side, and pretending to be some benevolent savior? You can’t play at being a hero unless there’s already a villain wandering around.”


“But what would be the point?”

I shrugged. “Most likely it’s all a smokescreen. They found military grade weapons in the car that blew up back in February. We’re talking about an underground terrorist organization. They had to get the weapons from someone willing to deal under the table and who could provide what they needed in bulk.” I shook my head as I continued to turn the puzzle pieces over in my head. “Which means gun smuggling.”

“Gun smuggling, human trafficking, kidnapping, murder.” Sonya’s lip curled, “Gabriel Evans sounds like a real catch. I’m sure his mother would be proud.”

Ketchup and mustard oozed over my fingers as my nails bit into the burger I was holding. I could feel my face starting to tighten in annoyance, but I shook it off. Why was I getting so offended when I’d been the one to put the idea in her head in the first place?

It was crazy, but I just couldn’t reconcile the Gabriel Evans I knew now with the faceless monster he’d been before. It was easy to place sins at the door of a man you’d never seen laugh. Easy to judge someone who’d never picked you up from jail at one o’clock in the morning. Easy to hate the man that everyone thought he was when he wasn’t one of the first people to ever make you feel wanted.

It was as if I were thinking of him as two different men. One was the guy I liked and the other was the one that made the inner journalist in me salivate like one of Pavlov’s dogs.

This line of thought was making my brain hurt. Time for a subject change.

“Were you able to dig up info on any of their other members?”

“Negatory,” she told me. “I do have a date with a certain enforcer next week though.”

My eyes widened. “How did you manage to pull that off?”

She grinned and gave a little half shrug, as if convincing the humorless Marcus Evans to go out with her hadn’t been the least bit difficult.

“I can be very charming when I put my mind to it.”

I laughed, “I’m sure you can.”

“I’m hoping he’ll let me join their little group. Or at least give me a tour or something.” Waggling her eyebrows she reached out and stole another fry. This time I allowed it. “Who knows? By this time next week you may not be the only one working undercover.”

She was so obviously pleased with herself that I couldn’t bring myself to voice the doubts that had begun to rise. Marcus was dangerous, but I had to trust that Sonya knew what she was doing and would be able to take care of herself. If something seemed off, I’m sure she had enough common sense to get out.

Looking at the clock mounted on the wall behind the cash register, I cursed.

“I have to get back,” I told her, reaching into my purse and slapping down a twenty. “Tell the waitress to keep the change.”

“Hold on.”

I stopped in the middle of sliding out from my side of the booth and looked back. Pulling a small paper sack out of her messenger bag, she grinned at me. “You almost forgot your surprise.”

Taking it from her with all the reverence I would have reserved for the Holy Grail, I clutched the sack to my chest and beamed.

“Thanks.”

She nodded and waved me off, pulling my abandoned plate to her side of the table so that she could finish off what I’d left behind. I walked out of BB’s glowing, and once again determined to find a story.

* * * *





Contents of my Goodie Bag

?Several small cameras no bigger than the tip of my pinkie finger

?A voice recorder hidden inside the body of a pen

?A camera that looked like a pendant necklace

?A lock pick

?A stun gun

?A USB that would allow me to save and access all the data from my spy stuff

?A half-eaten Kit Kat bar





This was some real life James Bond shit, and I couldn’t wait to try them all out. I got back to the office long before my lunch was scheduled to be over. I’d scheduled Gabriel to have a late lunch so that he could go over some paperwork with his lawyer, after that I’d set up a meeting with his Board of Directors concerning some policy changes, followed by a mid-afternoon appointment with Miss Lin, the bad-tempered Asian with magic guru fingers of relaxation and happiness.

I didn’t like talking to Lin because she could test the patience of a saint, but the woman’s massages would make a mass murderer poop rainbows. It was the only reason I put up with her shenanigans.

What all of this boiled down to was that I would have plenty of time to hide my new toys. I placed a couple in Gabriel’s main office, one in the elevator, and held on to the rest until I could find a chance to slip them into his inner office. In the meantime, I grabbed the voice recording pen and rolled it beneath the locked door. Hopefully one of the men would pick it up thinking they’d dropped it or something. Either that, or they’d step on it and crush it to bits. In which case I hoped the Oracle kept the warranties for all of their gadgets.

Fifteen minutes later, I pulled on the necklace, finished off the Kit Kat, pocketed the stun gun and USB, and declared myself done. Just in time too, because I had no sooner adjusted the necklace at my throat than Gabriel and Marcus stormed through the door.

Gabriel’s face was flushed with color and Marcus looked more sour than usual. I could only assume that they’d been arguing, but as soon as the two men caught sight of me they made a visible effort to relax.

“Phaedra,” Gabriel began, voice striving for normalcy and failing miserably. Thoughtful now, my eyes narrowed. “You’re back early. I thought you’d still be at BB’s.”

This surprised me. I had mentioned my preference for BB’s about a week and a half ago. At the time he hadn’t reacted to my mention of the restaurant’s supremacy over all others, but he must have been listening after all.

“I…uh…I had some paperwork I needed to work on, so I decided to cut my lunch a little short.”

At my words he and Marcus exchanged looks and a muscle began to work in Gabriel’s jaw.

Curious.

Leaning back in my swivel chair, I propped my feet on the edge of my desk and folded my hands over my abdomen.

“Speaking of, what are you two doing back?”

I had the satisfaction of seeing Gabriel shift nervously where he stood, while Marcus scowled at me. They looked at one another again, before Marcus spoke up and I was reminded that these two had been raised as siblings.

“Something came up. Gabriel and I are going to be out of town for a few days. We were just stopping by to pick up a few things.”

My feet came down with a crash, but neither one of them paid me any mind as they walked past me and into Gabriel’s main office.

“What sort of something?” I called after them, unaccountably annoyed that I hadn’t been told anything about it. Gabriel hesitated and turned back.

“It’s personal,” He paused and a brief smile touched his lips and made his eyes sparkle. “A family emergency. We’ll only be gone for two or three days.”

“But—”

His hand lifted as if he wanted to touch me, but obviously thinking better of it, he let his arm drop.

“Think of it as a vacation.”

“I guess that means you don’t need me to come in?”

“You guessed right.”

I nodded solemnly even as my heart soared. I now had three days to get into that inner office and plant my little goodies. I sighed to cover my rising excitement.

“I guess a break wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”


“I’m sure you’ll survive the tragedy,” he said dryly. “Cancel my plans for the rest of the day. After you’re done with that, you can go ahead and head on home.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said cheerfully. “Did you need me take care of the travel arrangements or—”

“No.” I jerked back at the bite in his voice and he cleared his throat with exaggerated care before trying again. “No, thank you. Marcus and I can handle it.”

“Of course.”

He opened his mouth as if to add something more, but only sighed instead. Shoulders slumping, he turned without another word and went into his office after Marcus. The closed door seemed to mock me and the dull sense of loneliness that had begun to fill me at the thought of not seeing him for three days. Ever since I’d started I hadn’t gone longer than a few hours without at least talking to him. There always seemed to be some chore that needed my attention, even on the weekends, which I was supposed to have off.

If I didn’t know any better I would have said that I would miss him, but that couldn’t be right. It was probably just excitement. After all, I planned on getting into his inner office even if I had to scale the side of the building and come in through a window like a ghettofied SWAT team reject.

Picking up the phone on my desk, I dialed a number and sat back with a smile.

“Lin,” I cooed when she picked up, “you old Japanese harpy. Turns out Evans won’t be able to make it to his session this afternoon, so I’m going to need our deposit back.”

“I’m not Japanese, pale-faced slut.”

I tsked. “Sorry. Is this because I didn’t say ‘hello’ first?” I struggled to recall what I knew of the language. “It’s ‘ohayō,’ isn’t it? Isn’t that how your people say hello?”

“I’m not Japanese!” she screeched, and I had to slap a hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter. “Every time you call I have to put up with your shit. One of these days I kill you and stuff your body in my blender. Feed it to my kids. Teach them what American trash taste like.”

“Whoa there, tiger. What’s the matter, Mae Lin?” I asked, as if honestly concerned. “Find another cobweb in your vagina this morning?”

“At least I don’t have to send entire rescue party up there to bring back the men I sleep with.”

“Call me a ho one more time,” I snapped, growing real tired of her sass. “Do it. I dare you. I hear one more ho insult come out of your mouth and I’m going to crawl through this phone and go Jackie Chan all over your wrinkled Asian ass.”

That’s when shit got real.

“Jackie Chan!? I bring Jet Li! You want Jet Li!? He make your Jackie Chan cry like a little bitch.”

“Eat a dick, old woman.”

“How can I when you already take them all?” She made a sound like a Hoover vacuum cleaner, and for the next two minutes I continued to exchange vicious insults with a seventy-five-year-old grandmother, who I was pretty sure used to be a member of the Chinese Mafia (See that? I could learn).

Life was good.

Especially when she called me a fat, pasty-skinned she-demon and agreed to return our thousand dollar deposit. I called and rescheduled the rest of Gabriel’s appointments for the next three days in high spirits. While none of the rest of my calls were as entertaining as Lin’s, by the time I was ready to go home I was practically humming.

The lock pick in my purse was calling my name and I soothed it with promises of breaking and entering and illegal trespassing. If there’s one thing I understand, it was the need to cause mischief, and I’d been on my best behavior for far too long.





Mischief is what makes the world go round. Without it, nothing would ever get done.

—Deidre Hollow