Revealing Silver Page 4

  “I’ll have a Jack. Then we’ll see how the celebrating goes.”

  He looked disappointed but poured her drink without comment. Good. She didn’t have time to chat him up. Nathan could be walking in any minute. If he wasn’t working that night, he would have been off duty an hour ago.

  She dug into her front pocket for the twenty she’d brought for drinks, and two of the three men in the bar glanced in her direction.

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s paid for.”

  The thank-you died on her tongue at the sight of the man seated at the far end. He hadn’t been there a few seconds earlier. She was damn sure he hadn’t been sitting anywhere else in the bar, either. There was no way she’d miss spotting Isaac McGuire in a crowd, let alone in an empty room.

  Up to that point, she’d only seen his younger self from a distance. He’d been with Nathan every time she caught sight of him as she studied their routine. Isaac had been nearly a block away the first time she spotted him, but she recognized his figure instantly. He still wore the sharp suits he favored, but the front of his dark brown hair was longer and spiked. He looked about eighteen. His smile was quicker and, as he lifted his glass to her in a silent toast, more appreciative than anything he’d ever shot her way before.

  She frantically scanned the room. Where was Nathan? Had he slipped by her? Was he in the bathroom? What would she do when she saw him? If there was one thing she’d learned since tagging around after them the past couple days, it was the two were never apart. Isaac was here. Nathan would be too.

  Picking up her glass, she strolled down the bar, putting an extra sway in her hips. Isaac’s gaze flickered to her legs, lingering there until she leaned against the counter next to him. His eyes met hers in frank approval. Coming from Isaac, it weirded her out, but she held her sly smile steady. She wasn’t going to let Isaac fuck this up for her.

  “Thanks for the drink.”

  He shrugged. “My pleasure. ’Tis the season, after all.”

  “’Tis.” She looked around for Nathan again. “You alone?”

  “Only if you go back to your end of the bar.”

  Where the hell was Nathan?

  “I think I like your end better.”

  Isaac smiled, nodding to the empty stool next to him. “Then have a seat. Nobody should be alone on Christmas Eve.” He waited until she was comfortable before holding out his hand in greeting. “I’m Isaac.”

  She hesitated, strangely unnerved by how normal he was. He shouldn’t just be Isaac.

  “Maggie.” The name she always used when she helped Nathan out on one of his bounty hunts.

  His head tilted, his brows coming together into a contemplative frown. “Hmm.”

  “Hmm, what?”

  “You don’t look like a Maggie.”

  “What do I look like? Candy? Maybe Cinnamon?” She didn’t mean to sound sharp, but she’d had this exchange once before. Only Isaac hadn’t been trying to flirt with her then. He was teasing her for looking like a prostitute.

  “Oh, no, I meant that Maggie’s kind of an everyday name. Homey. You know, like it’s always your Aunt Maggie who sends you the sweaters with the fuzzy animals on them at Christmas. Like that.”

  “And what if I like sweaters?”

  He grinned, leaning in again. “On you? There’s nothing I wouldn’t like about that.”

  “A name is like a sweater, though. Just something you wear.”

  “Does that mean I can call you whatever I want?”

  “Let’s stick with Maggie for now.”

  She had to keep reminding herself not to squirm. Isaac never flirted with her. Ever. First she’d been a potential threat to Nathan, and then she’d been his buddy’s girl.

  Sipping at the whiskey helped calm her. “I hadn’t exactly planned on being alone tonight.” She peered at him over the edge of her glass before taking another sip. “What’s your excuse?”

  “I got held up at work.”

  “What was so important it couldn’t wait until after Christmas?”

  “People I deal with don’t take holidays off. Christmas is like their smorgasbord.”

  “You work for Santa Claus?”

  He chuckled. “No, I’m a cop.”

  So far, her strategy was working. She’d meant to use it on Nathan, of course, but she’d take what she could get. Isaac could go after Gabriel’s men just as easily.

  “But you’re not on duty now?”

  “No.” He held up his empty glass. “This would be against the rules.”

  “You never break the rules? Not even on Christmas Eve?”

  “Not my style.”

  Remy almost laughed, though she could see he meant it. Isaac wasn’t exactly a rebel, but he’d break the rules if he had to. Or if he wanted to. Nathan’s scars had always been more or less visible, but she was convinced Isaac had changed too. It was just a little bit harder to see his scars.

  “Shame.” She knocked back the rest of her drink, then slid her tumbler forward to rest next to Isaac’s. “I kinda liked you. Thanks for the drink, Officer.”

  His arm shot out to block her in. “Hey, what’d I say?”

  She looked pointedly down at his hand, waiting to speak until he dropped it. “Maybe nothing. But a girl learns fast in this town not to stick around for a second drink. Not if she knows what’s good for her.”

  “Wait a sec.” She pretended to think it over before lifting her gaze to his. His smile was gone, replaced with a concern she recognized. “What happened?”

  “What makes you think anything happened?”

  “Where did you learn your lesson about sticking around? Did somebody hurt you?”

  “What can you do about it? Talking about it won’t change anything.”

  Isaac ignored her attempt at levity. “I am a cop, you know. You can trust me.”

  “No offense, Officer, but where I’m from, cops are just people. And you can’t trust people.”

  His lips clamped together, and she worried she’d pushed him too far. But after a moment, he pulled a card from his wallet and slid it across the bar to her. “If someone hurt you, all you have to do is tell me the details and I’ll take care of the rest. We don’t have to talk right now, but I don’t want you to lose my card.”

  “It wasn’t like what you’re thinking.”

  “I think it was something bad enough to scare you.”

  She bristled. “You think I look scared?”

  “There’s something going on that’s got you jumpy.” His phone went off before he elaborated on his theory. “Sorry. I have to take this. You need to work on your timing, Nathan.”

  Nathan. Her throat closed up. Blindly, Remy sat back down, her eyes fixed on Isaac, her ears tuned to every word.

  “I thought you wanted me to come over tomorrow. I’m at Smokey’s, but…they did?” An abashed smile suddenly spread across his face, and he turned away, more intent on the conversation than her. “Did you put them up to it?…Because I know you, and I don’t want to be the pity invitation, and if that’s…okay, fine, I believe you. I have to go home and pack.”

  The pieces fell into place. Nathan was in Palm Springs, where he always spent Christmas. He’d planned to take Remy this year, since she was part of the family now. Shit. That was where she should’ve been. Instead she fucked everything up. She probably could’ve found another way to rescue Stacy if she’d only given it two seconds of thought.

  “Hey.”

  Isaac’s voice had gone soft, surprisingly soothing. He rested one hand carefully on her shoulder, prompting her to finally look at him.

  “Listen, that was my partner. My work partner. Not my romantic partner. Not that there’s anything wrong with that or anything, but sometimes when I say that to pretty girls, they get the wrong idea.”

  She smiled. “You’re straight. Got it.”

  “I’m glad you can pick up my subtle signals. Anyway, I have to cut this short. But I’d like the chance to see you again after the holiday. We
can talk about things.”

  “Things?”

  “Whatever you want. I’m a good guy. Just ask Gordy.” He jerked his chin toward the bartender, then grinned.

  Gordy looked up from his rag. “Sure, he’s okay, I guess.”

  “With that ringing endorsement, I might be convinced to try this again.”

  “Good.” Rising from the stool, he tossed a few bills onto the counter. “Day after tomorrow. Same time, same place. You can tell me your whole story then. Unless you want to call me before that. I don’t care that it’s Christmas.”

  “Do I get to hear your story?”

  “Mine’s not nearly as interesting as yours, but I’ll tell you the parts that aren’t boring.” He backed up toward the front door, as if reluctant to take his eyes off her. “Merry Christmas, Maggie.”

  She nodded. It wasn’t until he’d walked out that she whispered, “Merry Christmas, Ike.”

  “Oh. It’s you.” Gabriel crossed one leg over the other as casually as he could with the ankle bracelets. The chains jingled as they knocked against each other, a sound he had no intention of becoming accustomed to. The shackles would be off by the New Year, and he’d return to his city as if he’d never left it. They were fools if they thought anything, even the law, was powerful enough to keep him behind iron and concrete. “I hope you haven’t come to convince me of the error of my ways just in time for Christmas. I have no intention of repenting.”

  Isaac stood inside the closed door, arms folded over his chest. Sometimes his macho posturing was almost comical, except Gabriel didn’t think the detective was even aware he did it. “Yeah, that really would be a Christmas miracle. But you and I both know there’s no such thing, don’t we, Gabriel? There’s an explanation for everything.”

  “What’s the explanation for your late-night visit?”

  He finally relaxed a little, stepping forward to pull out the chair opposite him. “Are you kidding? You’re my favorite prisoner. How could I not stop by to wish you a merry Christmas?”

  “Thank you for the honor. Are we done now? There’s a party going on back in the cell block I’d like to get back to.”

  “We can be done. Just as soon as you tell me how the Silver Maiden works.”

  “Oh, sure.” Gabriel smiled pleasantly. “Would you like me to write it all down or would you rather record it while I explained? Or, I know, you could suck my dick.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You think this is a game? After all the people you’ve hurt, do you really think I’m in the mood for your shit?”

  Gabriel took a deep breath, forcing down the sudden swell of anger. Isaac McGuire had no idea of who was suffering now, of who had been hurt. Gabriel’s fingers curled, briefly indulging in the fantasy of bashing Isaac’s fat head in.

  “This most assuredly is not a game. You can’t even conceive of what you’ve done, and what you’ve destroyed. Go back to bed, McGuire, and leave me alone.”

  “What I’ve destroyed? Are you kidding me? You kidnapped teenage girls. Remy is gone because of you. I’ll probably never know how many people died while you were searching for that fucking thing.”

  “I saved those girls from their pathetic, sorry lives. I gave them something more than their parents ever could. I don’t expect you to understand. In fact, I don’t expect you to understand anything. I suspect Pierce and Wright have to explain the bigger words to you.”

  “Well, they’re not here, which leaves you to do the job for them.”

  Gabriel just stopped from rolling his eyes. “Where’s my lawyer?”

  “Come on, you don’t need him. I’m not interested in your crimes or trying to get you to incriminate yourself. We already have an airtight case. You’re a dead man walking. All I want is a civilized conversation about the Silver Maiden.”

  “Then this is going to be the most disappointing Christmas since you caught Santa drilling your mom.”

  Isaac leaned back in his chair. “What’s the big deal? I already know they can send people through time, not to mention the visions.”

  The anger returned. Gabriel had done short stints in jail before but he never stuck around for long. There was always a loophole, always a palm to slick. He’d never resented incarceration like this. Never been so close to losing control. He imagined grabbing McGuire by the scruff of the neck and slamming his face into the table, bashing his head into the wall, leaving him as nothing more than pulp on the floor. He’d killed men like that before, and fuck, it might be worth it to do it again. Even if he got the chair for it.

  “You’re a veritable expert. What do you need me for?”

  “I only see the final result. You’re the one who understands what makes them tick.”

  “What possible motivation would I have to help you understand? You and I both know you aren’t going to cut me any deals. Even if you wanted to play ball, you’re asking me to hand over the secrets to an ancient power.”

  “Not all of them. I’m interested in the effect it can have on people. Other than making them sick from the visions.”

  Gabriel perked up. “Oh, that’s sweet. You’re worried about your girlfriend, are you?”

  A muscle twitched in Isaac’s jaw. Good. He’d gotten to the son of a bitch. “Considering Nathan’s girlfriend disappeared in a flash of blue light, yeah, you can say I’m a little worried about Detective Wright.”

  “Her disappearance isn’t my problem. And as gallant as you undoubtedly are, trust me, Detective Wright is more than capable of taking care of herself.”

  “Not when she’s holding one of those coins, she can’t.”

  Isaac’s grim announcement prompted a laugh from Gabriel. The first genuine laugh in what felt like months. At least this visit hadn’t been a complete waste of time. “She’s in no danger from the coins.”

  “The last time she had one of those visions, she almost passed out. How do I know next time, she won’t end up dead?”

  “She has a dangerous job. How do you know the next time she goes to work she won’t end up shot?”

  “I don’t. But at least she’s been trained to handle a gun. When it comes to those coins, she’s flying blind.”

  “She was born to handle the coins.”

  Another visible reaction, this one more pronounced as Isaac sat up straight against the back of the chair. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Ask her.”

  “Haven’t you been listening to me? There’s no instruction manual. She knows as little as I do about the Silver Maiden.”

  He picked a bit of lint from his pants wondering, not for the first time, how McGuire and his posse managed to destroy all his plans. Well, it hadn’t been McGuire at all. Olivia Wright and her visions had been primarily responsible for his downfall, and she probably could have accomplished it without McGuire’s assistance. The coins had led Olivia right to him, but that had been his own fault. Despite his best efforts, Stacy had never accepted her role in the grander scheme of things. The coins had helped Olivia because she was born to protect the priestesses. They were dealing with an ancient power and relics from a forgotten age. He couldn’t exactly explain that, for all Stacy’s crying and hysterics, she’d never been in any actual danger. He would never hurt his girls—the Maiden’s girls.

  “Haven’t you been listening to me? I’m not telling you shit, and your girlfriend knows more than she’s let on.”

  “You’re lying. I was there the last time she picked up the coin. I was the one who had to hold on to her because seeing what you did to Stacy made her sick. Nothing you can say will convince me she went into that with full knowledge. Nothing.”

  Gabriel yawned, now thoroughly bored with the conversation. “That’s not what I said. And whether you believe me or not, it makes absolutely no difference to me.”

  Arms across the chest again. McGuire needed a new routine. This one had gotten stale years ago. “Kind of like you missing your cell block party makes no difference to me. I’ve got all night.”

 
Gabriel dropped his head back to study the ceiling. When he got out, he was going to kill McGuire with his own two hands. Just because he was clearly too stupid to live. The good cops usually were, in his experience. The really smart ones always got along better on the other side of the law. Like McGuire’s old partner. What Nathan did as a bounty hunter could almost be called kidnapping, especially when he was pulling thugs on Isaac’s orders. It was a shame to think about what might have been if Susanna had done her job. Working with Parker had been one hell of an expensive mistake.

  “Well, if spending Christmas Eve with me makes you happy, who am I to complain?”

  Gabriel would happily serve as a bit of a distraction for the good detective. As long as McGuire was slamming his head against this particular wall, he wouldn’t be using the coins to get in Marisol’s way. This was exactly why Isaac made an excellent cop and a piss-poor tough guy. In the end, he actually gave a fuck. He had an infinite amount of power sitting in his sock drawer, and he was too stupid to let go of his feelings and seize the opportunity. As long as Isaac kept bellowing about the coins being dangerous, Gabriel would have the upper hand.

  Chapter Four

  Some families enjoyed quiet, low-key Christmases with comforting traditions whose origins had long since been lost in the murky fog of time. Some families made Clark Griswald look like the love child of Ebenezer Scrooge and the Grinch. Olivia’s parents had always been more of the latter. She watched Christmas Vacation with a twinge of longing—why couldn’t her own father take such a measured, reasonable view toward the holiday? She had amazing memories of Christmas mornings, and perhaps unnaturally inflated expectations of how the holiday should play out. It wasn’t Isaac’s fault she’d built the day up in her head, desperately clinging to any normality while everything else spun out of control.

  He showed up a little before eight, as he promised, but it was clear he hadn’t slept a wink. He wore a clean shirt—the one he kept at his desk—but he hadn’t bothered to shave, his eyes were bloodshot, and his mouth set in a thin line. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what the hell had been so important he needed to leave her, without explanation, on Christmas Eve, but she held her tongue. They’d been on edge with each other since Remy’s disappearance, and she didn’t want to spoil breakfast by inadvertently starting another fight.