Page 9 of Touched By Destiny
“We have to assume they know you’ll bring some security with you,” Gabriel remarked. “I think we keep the rest of the Marwoods at home while we’re at this gathering, and have plenty of guards there just in case this is an attempt to lure you and your security away from the mansion.”
“Exactly,” Clark replied. “The vault perhaps?”
Gabriel sighed. The house had a special room built in the center with Eric’s safety in mind. It was more impenetrable than a bank vault, hence the name they’d given it, but could grant Eric access to fresh air, food, and every other essential for roughly a month if necessary. Eric thought it was claustrophobic and balked at any suggestion that he hunker in there until a threat passed.
“I’d like to know that we have something to be concerned about before we suggest Eric spend the day in there,” Gabriel said.
“Because you don’t think it’s necessary or you don’t want to listen to Eric bitch about it for the next few weeks?” Rhonda asked with a chuckle.
“If we decide Eric’s safer in there, we’re telling him two minutes before we leave,” Gabriel retorted.
Clark laughed. “Oh, indeed. While Eric’s quieter than Richard when faced with discomfort, both my boys are champion bitchers.”
“Rosalind claims they inherited that trait directly from you,” Gabriel said.
“And if I argue with that statement, I only get myself in trouble, so I’m going to shoo you both out of my office so I can get to my next meeting,” Clark replied.
“Smart man,” Rhonda commented as she stood. Like Gabriel, she was tall and wore a dark suit with a white shirt. It wasn’t a uniform. Clark didn’t require them to wear anything in particular. In Rhonda’s case, she showed up in a crisp suit one day and a flowing dress showing off her muscular legs the next. As for Gabriel, he lacked imagination, and the only thing he required of his wardrobe was that it was comfortable and kept his gun concealed.
“I’ll check in with you both later,” Clark said as Gabriel rose and headed to the door on Rhonda’s heels. “And Gabriel?”
“Yeah?”
“Richard mentioned planning another night at his club soon,” Clark remarked, then grinned. “And he’s convinced Eric to go so he can meet more young men like the pretty Beaumont.”
Since Gabriel refused to growl again, he frowned and, without a word, marched out of Clark’s office. If Gabriel were lucky, Eric would stick to nursing a drink at the bar again as the revelers danced around him. The thought of Eric in another tight pair of pants showcasing his long limbs perfectly and moving expertly to the beat while beautiful young men writhed against him put Gabriel in a foul mood. Amending his evening plans, Gabriel set aside the idea of squeezing in some work so he could indulge in a long workout.
In the military, he’d had his first taste of rigorous exercise, and he’d learned it added mass to his frame—something he hadn’t expected as a resurrected person—and allowed him to vent his frustrations. It was unfortunate that the object of his constant irritation was also the person he was supposed to keep safe, otherwise Gabriel would put some distance between himself and Eric. If for no other reason than to spare his sanity and somehow rid himself of his prurient thoughts about an unobtainable man who’d haunted him for years.
Chapter 5
When his alarm went off, Gabriel didn’t bound out of bed as was his habit. He lay there staring up at the ceiling he could barely see in the dark and frowned. Ahead of him was a long day of work, then he had to escort the three youngest Marwoods to the club Clark had built for Richard and Maribeth. Richard had cheekily requested Gabriel add it to his schedule four weeks ago and had sweetly inquired if that was adequate notice.
Gabriel had ignored Richard’s weird gleefulness and had privately admitted that no amount of warning was enough to prepare him for a night of Eric in tight clothes surrounded by undeserving men who’d have a shot at enticing the gorgeous necromancer into bed. After nearly forty-eight years of surviving following his resurrection, Gabriel was embarrassed that he had some kind of silly crush on a man completely out of his league—and one he was paid to keep safe.
Not that Gabriel spent more than necessary on himself. His money was funneled back to Clark to aid inspirits and their constant-but-dissatisfying hunt for other destiny-touched. Usually, by the time they were made aware of the birth of another, it was already too late.
Since lying there chastising himself for not getting over his unwanted feelings for Eric wasn’t helping matters, Gabriel reached over and snapped on the light. He tossed the covers off and sat up. And that was when his day plummeted fully into nightmare territory. His feet hit the floor, and Gabriel stared stupidly at them. There, at the tips of his big toes, was the one thing every resurrected person feared.
Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut but forced them open again a second later. Nothing about the view had changed. His toes were transforming. Bone had replaced everything above the knuckle. He was dying. He wanted to scream, rage, and cry, but it wouldn’t help. Death had no cure, and although it would take years, Gabriel’s days were numbered. His first thought was of Eric. Who could be trusted to care for him when Gabriel was gone?
Yes, there were plenty of inspirits, including the incomparable Rhonda who’d shown promise from the start. But no one would put Eric first the way Gabriel did. As odd as it sounded, Gabriel loved their jaunts to find ghosts and listening to Eric mutter as he came up with another magical theory he wanted to test. They were mundane moments, but special to him because it was Eric. Would Eric remember him? As his life stretched on for endless centuries, would he recall the guard of his youth?
Standing up, Gabriel forced himself to stave off his maudlin thoughts and fears so he could prepare for his day. He had no time for grief or lamenting his choices. His death was inevitable, but it wouldn’t happen quickly. There was no way to know exactly how long he had left. It was terrifying.
Plans could be made, and he’d ensure the Marwoods were prepared for life without him. Clark would have to be informed immediately, but Gabriel wanted it kept secret from everyone else as long as possible. He didn’t want to feel their pity or besurrounded by people counting down the hours until he had to seclude himself and await his last breaths.
Since Gabriel already knew Clark’s calendar was packed for the day, and it was the end of the week, his unfortunate and devastating announcement would have to wait until after the weekend. But Gabriel would get a meeting scheduled so he wouldn’t put off that conversation for any longer than necessary. Gabriel wished he’d set his alarm clock for an hour earlier so he could get in a run.
If he shuffled a few things, Gabriel could squeeze in a jog before he left with the youngest Marwoods for Richard’s big club night. Hopefully the exercise would help him clear his head of the dread and fear rapidly building in his mind so he could focus on his duties. Satisfied with that thought, he quickly went through the motions of getting clean and dressed. Gabriel did it with as little attention to his changing feet as possible—as if avoiding his toes could somehow rid his mind of his imminent demise. Once those tasks were complete, he slid the gun he’d cleaned the previous night into the holster on his hip and stalked out to have breakfast.
With a remote, Gabriel disengaged the alarm on the mansion and walked into the great room through a set of nine-foot-tall glass doors.
“Good morning, Gabriel, do you have your party dress all pressed for tonight?” Richard called out when he spotted him.
“The fucking cleaners lost it. I guess I’m wearing a boring suit,” Gabriel replied as he headed straight for the coffeemaker. His plan was to do everything he could to keep his day as normal as possible and try not to think about the abrupt way his life had changed that morning.
“Personally, I love a man in a sharp suit,” David remarked, handing Gabriel a clean mug. Taking the cup fromDavid, Gabriel thanked him and filled it with the dark brew as the scent of coffee pleasantly teased his rattled senses.