Page 42 of Dark Rebel's Mystery

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ROB

Rob smoothed the crisp linen napkin in his lap for the tenth time as he and the others settled into a spacious booth in the upscale restaurant. Across from him, Margo displayed her usual casual confidence, with one hand resting on Negal's forearm and a smile on her face as she listened to Gertrude describe the chaos in the clinic when a bunch of Guardians returned from a mission in need of patching up.

Negal, who was wearing a suit with the ease of someone who had been wearing them for years, looked like a supermodel or an artificial intelligence creation—too handsome to be real and drawing the attention of people sitting at nearby tables.

For a guy who had spent most of his incredibly long life as a trooper in uniform, he certainly filled up that suit to perfection.

Their parents had already met Negal, but it would be the first time they met Gertrude, and Rob was nervous.

She looked beautiful, dressed in a simple yet elegant blue dress that complemented her dark hair and warm smile. She seemed determined to be a calming anchor for tonight, entertainingthem with her stories of warriors who turned into petulant kids when they were patients. If only his mind could stop conjuring worst-case scenarios about his mother's reaction to his mate, he could actually start enjoying the evening.

Over the tinkling of piano keys in the background, Rob heard the clink of glassware as a waiter passed by, and his thoughts flickered to the last time he'd introduced a girlfriend to his parents. Lynda had charmed them almost instantly, but she was a con artist who had fooled everyone except for Margo.

His sister had been the only one who had seen through the act and saved him from making the worst mistake of his life.

The broken engagement and canceled wedding seemed like something that had happened a lifetime ago, but it had been only a little over a month, and his mother was worried that he'd fallen for Gertrude on the rebound.

"Relax," Gertrude murmured, sliding her hand over his, her touch sending warmth through him. "Everything will be okay. They'll love me."

She sounded so sure, but Rob knew better than to underestimate his mother's ability to find fault in all the wrong people. "I hope so." He forced a small smile.

His mother had been all for Lynda nearly until the end.

Across from him, Margo straightened, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "They're here," she announced, her eyes fixed on the doorway.

Rob turned to see his parents walking over. As usual, his father had that uncertain, slightly apologetic smile he always sportedin new social situations, and the suit he'd chosen to wear hung loose on his thin frame.

Was he losing weight? Was he sick? Perhaps he should ask Bridget for a favor and have her examine his dad.

His mother looked as perfectly coifed as ever, with the same critical gleam in her eye. The contrast between them was as familiar as breathing, and Rob felt his stomach knot even further.

As always, she took in every detail at once, as if searching for imperfections.

"Mom, Dad," Rob said, rising from his seat with Gertrude following suit. "I want you to meet the love of my life, Gertrude."

His mother grimaced as if he had said something dirty, but she shook Gertrude's hand and murmured all the right things.

Gertrude inclined her head without a trace of nervousness in her expression, and Rob admired that—it took a special kind of calm to meet his mother's unwavering scrutiny.

His mother's gaze flicked over the other woman's dress, her hair, and then settled on her kind brown eyes, a tight smile stretching her lips. "Rob tells us you're a nurse?"

"Yes, I am," Gertrude said brightly. "I work in a private clinic that caters to a unique clientele."

The muscle in Rob's mother's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "You mean the Perfect Match secret compound employees?" she asked, lowering herself into the plush seat.

"Yes," Gertrude said cheerfully. "It's a large place."

"That no one's allowed to visit." His mother cast a reproachful glance at Margo. "I don't understand why they have such draconian rules. Your father and I would have gladly signed a nondisclosure agreement that covered all the bases. That's what most normal places do. What are they hiding in there?"

"A lot of proprietary tech," Rob said. "Many would love to steal it, and it is crucial to protect it at all costs. If the Chinese get their hands on the technology, they will build the same machines for one-tenth of the price and offer the service for a fraction of what Perfect Match is charging."

His mother tilted her head. "Would that be so bad? The consumers would love it."

"That's not how it works, dear," his father said. "Think of all the years and the enormous amounts of money that went into the development of this technology. The founders need to recoup their investment. That's what patent laws are about, but some foreign actors don't respect them."

Rob didn't like having to lie to his parents, but protecting the location of the village and the identity of its immortal population was nonnegotiable. At least the Perfect Match cover wasn't a complete fabrication. The technology existed; it belonged to the clan, and they were very secretive about it.

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