Page 30 of Far From Center
Chapter 12
Nyalla leanedher head back against the seat of the party bus feeling the wind against her face and Gabe’s arm and thigh against hers. It had been a perfect day. The ship’s captain had not shown anything more than professional interest in her, which meant that the man and Gabe quickly became friends. She’d sunbathed on the back of the boat while the pair of them discussed how to operate the sails, as well as other nautical stuff. Normally she would have been just as enthusiastic to learn to sail, but somehow it seemed right for Gabe to know how to do one human thing that she didn’t know. He was a natural and by the time they were ready to head in, the captain sat back with Nyalla and relaxed while Gabe brought the boat in toward shore as if he’d been doing this his whole life.
Afterwards they’d had lunch on the pier and Gabe discovered that he enjoyed broiled scallops far more than he’d ever thought possible. Then they both read on the deck of their hotel room, Gabe abandoning the angel romance for the hockey one.
Nyalla read the angel romance, and actually thought the fictional Raphael to be totally sexy. But since she was already well on her way to falling for an archangel, she could sympathize with the heroine’s feelings.
But duty called, and they’d left their perfect day behind to join Terrelle and Snip on the party bus once more, this time heading into San Nicolas to meet with the Gormand. It was a longer ride than to the MooMba, but all too soon they pulled up to their stop, the four of them the only ones getting off the bus.
Charlie’s was in a section of the city with old concrete buildings, and quick marts, the oil refineries off in the distance. Nyalla had seen the resort section of the island, and the wild side of the island, but this was the industrial side, the side filled with sailors and huge commercial ships. The side filled with desalinization plants, and refineries. The sun chasers and gamblers might provide significant income to the island’s economy, but this less postcard-worthy side was just as important. And as rough and gray as it was in contrast to the glitzy, blue-sea tourist section, Nyalla loved it. Jekyll. Hyde. And Practical Salt-of-the-Earth. Entering the tiny building, she admired the eclectic and cluttered décor, and chose a table near the back with good visibility.
“All clear,” Terrelle announced.
Nyalla knew, not sensing any demons nearby beyond the two she was with. “We’re early. I wasn’t sure if they would be, too.”
They were way early. Nyalla and Gabe sat on one side of the table with Terrelle and Snip on the other. With time to spare, they ordered drinks and dinner, the angel deciding on a kale and beet salad and water.
“You’re joking,” Terrelle said after the waitress had left with their order. “Kale and beets? Nobody eats that shit, especially in a place known for its seafood. Andwater?”
“I’m told kale and beets are extremely healthy, and that I most likely won’t enjoy them at all. And as for the water,” he looked accusingly at the two demons with their alcoholic beverages, “I believe it’s important to remain unimpaired while we’re meeting a greed demon and are responsible for Nyalla’s safety.”
Terrelle turned red. “I’m a demon. I can sober up in a flash if I need to. Besides, I’m not likely to be sloshed out of my mind from one drink. You’re a real asshole, you know. I hope you choke on your beets.”
Gabe did not choke on his beets, and as Nyalla predicted, he disliked both them and the kale intensely. Which meant he ate every single bite of the salad, as well as dutifully drinking his water. The rest of them were on their second beer and nearly finished their food, and still the Gormand hadn’t arrived.
“Think he stood us up?” Terrelle muttered.
“Maybe. We’ll wait for a few hours just in case, then head back if we don’t see him.”
“Well, I’m going to scout around,” the information demon narrowed her eyes. “Maybe he’s spooked because there are four of us here, although why he’d be spooked at a Noodle, a Low and two humans, I don’t know.” Terrelle got up and strolled off, Snip heading in the opposite direction. Which left Nyalla with Gabriel.
“I doubt a Gormand will be shy about approaching you now.” Gabriel commented dryly. “Just in case, I’ll go elsewhere. If Tura is with him or nearby, I might be recognized.”
“Even without your angelic aura?”
Gabriel winced. “It’s improbable, but I do tend to use this human form, and Tura has seen me in it before. I’ll head toward the back or to the other side of the bar.
She bit her lip, oddly reluctant to have him leave her. It’s not like he could do much to protect her from a demon, but even so she felt better with him around. But he was right — if Gabriel were recognized right now it would be disastrous not only for her mission, but for the angel’s as well. She wasn’t exactly sure of the effect of the broken wand, but there was a strong possibility that he was mortal in addition to being human right now. And if he were, Tura would most likely not hesitate to kill him.
“Okay. Stay close though, okay?”
The angel looked over to Snip and Terrelle, his face grim. “Oh I intend on it.” Then he got up and walked to the bar, vanishing into the crowd of people.
Nyalla glanced over at the two demons. Snip was following the waitress around, probably the only patron eagerly hitting on the elderly woman in decades. Terrelle was busy reading the business cards, license plates, and notes that covered every square inch of the walls at Charlie’s. Information demons were obsessive, and Terrelle wasn’t an exception. Nyalla could be torn to ribbons inches from her, and the demon might not notice until she’d finished reading every scrap of paper in the place.
So much for her guards. She’d wanted to take this job alone, but Sam had insisted the demons accompany her.
She took another bite of her tuna steak, marveling that this somewhat rough bar in a declining part of town was such the tourist draw. Yes, the food was amazing, but the wealthy regularly left the resorts and casinos at the other end of the small island to come here. Nyalla shook her head as she watched a bejeweled woman and overly tanned man in golf pants gawk, much like Terrelle was doing.
Slumming it. The thought curled like a fist in her stomach. She was well aware that she too looked like one of the tourists, taking a break from luxury to rub elbows with the fishermen and dock workers. Years ago, she’d been in a similar position, obeying wealthy masters and trying to go about her day avoiding their notice.
Worse, actually. Bling woman and golf man were hardly likely to beat the local patrons or deny them food and water for some perceived misdeed. The worst they’d do is scream at the waitress and leave without tipping. A lesser degree of slavery, but still too alike for Nyalla’s comfort. No wonder there was such violence among the humans when people treated their own kind as if they were slaves.
“Do you see this?” Terrelle came back to Nyalla’s table and pointed at the wall excitedly. “Someone came all the way from Alaska and posted that picture.”
Before Nyalla could reply, the demon was off again, announcing that she was going to check out the walls in the bathroom. Snip raced after her, using the proximity of the restrooms as an excuse to follow his favorite waitress into the kitchen.
The heavy door swung open. Nyalla saw the movement out of the corner of her eye, but what hit her senses froze the fork halfway to her mouth. A demon. Humans were easier to read. She only had to open herself and their emotions and motives, images from their mind flitted through her own. With few exceptions, they were clear and although fast-paced, their thoughts were manageable if she didn’t try too hard to concentrate on specific thoughts but just let the overall impressions and tone sink into her.
