Rafael
See you then.
The bar was exactly where I remembered it, tucked between warehouses that had been converted into lofts and offices. Inside was warm and dimly lit, all dark wood and exposed brick. Notcrowded yet, just a handful of people scattered at tables and the bar.
Rafael was already there, sitting in a corner booth with a whiskey in front of him. He looked up when I walked in, smiled, and gestured to the seat across from him. Perfectly dry, perfectly put together, like the mess outside hadn't touched him at all.
Rafael looked like he'd been waiting for me.
“Troy Donnelly,” he said as I slid into the booth. “Heard rumors you'd gone respectable. Didn't believe them.”
“You heard wrong. I'm still a disaster.”
“Good, because respectable is boring.” He flagged down the bartender, pointed at his glass, then at me. Two more whiskeys appeared within a minute. “How long's it been?”
“I've lost count already.”
“You look good. Harder. Like you've been busy.”
I took a drink and let the burn settle. “Could say the same about you.”
He leaned back and studied me with those dark, unreadable eyes. “Heard you were working with Calloway's people. The Sentinels.”
“Word travels.”
“Always does.” He smiled, easy and warm. “That must be interesting work.”
“It pays.”
“And keeps you out of trouble?”
“Keeps me in a different kind of trouble.”
He laughed, genuine and low. “Fair enough. You always did have a talent for finding the most complicated version of anything.” He took a drink. “So what, you're an international man of mystery now? Jetsetting around causing problems?”
“More like getting my ass kicked in various time zones.”
“Living the dream.” He signaled for another round. “You miss it here? The city, I mean.”
“Sometimes. London's got its own appeal, but Chicago's still home in ways that matter.”
“Even with all the baggage?”
“Especially with the baggage. At least here I know where all the bodies are buried.”
Rafael grinned at that. “Literally or metaphorically?”
“Yes.”
The bartender brought fresh drinks. I drained what was left of my first glass and started on the second, feeling the warmth spread through my chest and push back against the cold that had settled into my bones.
“So what brings you back to Chicago?” Rafael asked. “Figured you'd be too busy with Sentinel work to visit home.”
“Needed a break.”
“From?”
“Everything.”
