Page 47 of Blood Bonds
“Brilliant.” He nodded with his head in the direction for them to walk by the CRF. As they neared the gates, Ezekiel asked, “Are you still fucking that witch from London?”
Gabriel fought a grimace and played along. “The one with the fiery red hair?”
“Yeah. Can’t remember her name. Tabby?”
“Abby.” Gabriel couldn’t force a warm reply but tried for a grin that felt foreign on his lips. The expression Ezekiel gave him told him to stop trying. “We’re not seeing each other anymore.”
He raised his brows. “I can tell by that look.” Ezekiel smirked as they turned the corner. “Never know who might be listening.”
“And now?”
“We’re good. Something tells me you won’t raise any red flags.”
A thought nagged at Gabriel. “How did you recognize me?” He should have asked earlier, but he’d been preoccupied with finally completing his first step of the mission.
Ezekiel smiled fondly. “Skye told me where to trace but didn’t tell me why. Then your light hair reminded me of the last Seraphim I briefly met, so I assumed you were who Skye sent me to meet.”
That implied the Ichorian met with the seer alone, perhaps often. Sethios had stated Ezekiel was only granted one day a year with her in return for obedience. It seemed that might not be completely accurate.
Gabriel pocketed the detail for later investigation.
Ezekiel paused outside the entrance of a bar, hand on the door. “Meet me here in five days. I’ll provide an update.”
Gabriel studied the name and location. “Done.”
“Cheers.” He wandered inside and went straight for a man sitting on a stool. “Dear Owen. You and I need to—”
The door closed on whatever Ezekiel had been saying. Gabriel considered entering—if anything, to see why the dark-skinned man by the counter had turned an unfavorable shade of green—but decided it wasn’t his business.
Curiosity served no purpose. Especially where Ichorian politics were involved.
Because the immortal inside was a Hydraian, sitting on notorious Ichorian turf.
An unintelligent choice considering the laws governing their kinds.
Gabriel didn’t understand any of it. If Osiris would just take ownership of his minions, none of the bickering would be needed. Though, it seemed that was precisely what Osiris wanted—chaos.
One day Gabriel would seek to understand it.
Until then, he had a sibling to learn more about.
He misted home, to the lands on Earth shrouded in protection runes. Humans didn’t know these areas existed, and the Seraphim preferred to keep it that way.
Time for another discussion with the seers. He doubted they would be any more forthcoming, but it was worth a shot.
If anything, he could compare their talents to those of the one named Skye.
Perhaps she would be more powerful than he expected.
Or lack any real means at all.
Only experience would tell.
13
Colorful Words
Caro woke to a headache.
