Orion Blake
“Gabriel?” I blinked twice to be sure it wasn’t a hologram. “What are you doing here?”
He gave me one of his most disarming smiles. “Would you believe I was in the neighborhood and decided to pay you a visit?”
My old friend was many things, but he didn’t just drop in for shits and giggles. “Why are you here?”
“Can I come in or should we go sit in my car?” He gave me his best, “don’t be a dickhead” eyebrow raise.
His Maserati was nicer than my two-bedroom bungalow, but I probably had better beer. I stepped back. “Come in.”
I watched him take in my modest home. I’d had a dozen bigger homes in my lifetime, but right now this suited me. Small, unassuming, and off the beaten path. It was clean, well kept, and the furniture was high-end.
“This is nice,” he said. “You never did like ostentatious displays, did you?”
I ignored the reference to my first visit to Gabriel’s chalet in Switzerland. “I also don’t like mindless small talk. Why are you here?”
“No need to be rude,” Gabriel said as he sat on my couch and leaned back. “Manners are still in fashion.”
It had been borderline insubordinate. Gabriel and his brothers were the leaders of our kind. Good thing we didn’t have laws punishing such a thing. “Fine. Want a beer?”
“I would love one.”
The way he answered reminded me of a time eight hundred years prior when we’d been fighting to keep the Mongols out of Western Europe. When the battle was over, I found a barrel of beer and asked him if he wanted a mug. He gave me the same answer that day.
Trying not to reminisce too much, I went to the kitchen. I grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and handed Gabriel one when I returned. “Better?”
He took a long pull from his bottle, closed his eyes, and smiled. “Much.”
I laughed despite myself. Behind his fancy clothes and expensive cars, Gabriel was still a warrior at heart. “Have I shown enough manners for you to tell me why you’re sitting on my couch, drinking beer?”
“I need your help.”
I knew that before I let him into my house. The fact he came himself meant he knew I probably wouldn’t be inclined to help. “With?”
“Michael’s sending a kid to investigate Drevlin energy readings. I want you to protect him.”
Called that right. This was a clear and easy decline. I set my bottle down and stood. “Well, you’ve had your drink, and you knew I’d say no before you arrived. Time to go.”
“It’s Ares Masterson’s youngest.”
That explained the personal visit. “You bastard. Both of you.”
“Ori. I swear I tried to talk him out of it, but you know Michael.”
I wish I hadn’t met Gabe’s older brother. The angel was laser-focused on protecting our kind and didn’t care who got hurt in the process. “Yeah, I know him. He’s a cold-hearted bastard.”
“He’s doing what he thinks is best.”
I didn’t believe Michael picked Ares’s boy because he was the most qualified. He had other reasons. “Even you don’t believe this is the right move.”
“Zeke’s a good detective, but that was only part of why he was chosen. Michael picked Zeke so I’d come to you begging for help.”
Hearing him say out loud what we both knew was true stifled my planned response. I should’ve known Gabe would give it to me straight. “Why? I can’t believe he’d risk Ares’s son to get me out of retirement.”
“The Drevlin are coming, and we need you for the fight. Michael wants to show you that you can still be useful.”
If they’d come to me fifty or sixty years ago, I’d have jumped at the idea. A soldier’s life depended on others having your back. I found isolation difficult. It took me decades to find things to replace my sword.
