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I let my instincts take over for a moment, tuning into the room’s energy. It's a cocktail of trust and respect, an atmosphere unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. All except for Jaden. There’s a guardedness about him, a sense that he’s showing the world only what he wants it to see. And then it hits me—I’m seeing Jaden from a perspective few have, from inside his protective shell, and it's both exhilarating and terrifying. I catch his eye, and there's a flash of something — recognition, maybe?
Jaden’s expression darkens. “Now’s not the time, little dragon.” His voice invades my thoughts, a stark reminder of this bizarre connection we share. He’s right; I need to focus. This is about my future, my shot at something more. But it's tough, splitting my attention when half of my mind is tangled up with thoughts of Jaden and this strange bond between us.
The silence in the room is broken only by the soft hum of computers. Every pair of eyes in the room is fixed on me, sizing me up. It's like being under a microscope, and I'm not a fan. Finally, I nod, my words terse but polite. “Pleased to meet you.” It sounds lame even to my own ears, but formalities aren't exactly my strong suit.
“Jaden has filled us in on your logistics expertise,” Razor continues, his grin disarming in its sincerity. Despite his bravado, there's something about him that's inherently likable. “We believe you'll adapt quickly. Feel free to jump in when you're ready.” He points to a monitor, where a series of illuminated dots marks the Highway 401 corridor. “Our focus is on dismantling a bawdy house network linked to The Game. We need to strategize the best way to shut it down and save the victims.”
I sink into my seat, the discussion swirling around me. They're talking raids and tactics, but my mind keeps drifting to Jaden. It's like there's a magnetic pull, an undercurrent of something unspoken between us. The way he's simultaneously a part of this and yet apart from it all—it's intriguing and infuriating.
As the team hashes out their plan, my attention snaps back to the task at hand. They're missing something crucial. Cutting in, I lean forward, my voice confident. “If you hit the houses one by one, they’ll lock down after the first raid. And the guards? They're living on takeout. The simplest way to neutralize them with minimal collateral damage is to spike their food. They order in bulk post-night shift. We can figure out where they order from, and tamper with the order to sedate them. It’s cleaner, safer, and you'll catch them off guard.”
The room falls silent for a moment, processing my suggestion. I can feel Jaden's gaze on me, a mix of surprise and something else — respect? It's hard to tell with him. But right now, what matters is that I've contributed, shown my worth. This is more than proving myself; it's about making a difference, about being part of something bigger than any of us.
As everyone's eyes turn to me, I feel a flicker of discomfort but quickly shove it aside. Sometimes, you just have to trust your gut, so I dive in. “Did Viper’s goon mention how long this circuit’s been running? They usually switch locations every few months unless they smell a raid coming.”
“Three weeks,” Sasha chimes in, finally looking up from her phone. Her posture shifts, all business now. “That gives us a window for recon. What do you need?”
Truth is, I'm winging it here. But hey, winging it's gotten me this far. My instincts are sharp, and I've always had a knack for figuring out systems, for making sense of chaos. “Let me see what you've got in terms of resources, and I'll lay out my recommendations.”
Connor speaks up, his gaze shifting between Jaden, Razor, and me. “We have everything money can buy,” he declares with a confidence that only the truly wealthy possess. Then, with a side glance at me, he adds, “But she needs to get a grip on our lifestyle to really be useful.” He stands, taking Kat’s hand, signaling the end of the meeting.
Kat throws a parting smile over her shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Rayne. See you soon.” Her voice is warm, a contrast to Connor’s brisk, business-like tone.
Razor's grin is wide as he looks at me, a twinkle in his eye. “Brilliant. You’re hired,” he announces, as though he’s just found a rare gem. “Aleah will sort out your contract. Once that’s settled, we'll regroup and hash out the details.”
A mix of hope and apprehension courses through me. It's the classic 'too good to be true' scenario, yet sometimes, against all odds, things do work out. Clinging to that hopeful thought, I follow Aleah and her trio of Adonis-like companions out of the room. Jaden marches at my side. This could be my big break, or it could be a dive into unknown waters. Either way, I'm about to find out.
17
JADEN
The meeting wraps up better than I'd dared to expect. I make it a rule not to harbor expectations, a self-imposed safeguard against disappointments. Yet, with Rayne, it seems my defenses are already fraying at the edges. I'm finding it increasingly challenging to reinforce the walls I've meticulously built around myself, especially around her.
The flicker of... something, an indefinable pull towards her, is unsettling. I quickly label it as lust, my cock jumping on board with the idea. But deep down, I sense it's a convenient facade for something more complex, something I'm not ready to dissect yet.
Time, that's what I need — a luxury that seems elusive at the moment. As we trail behind Aleah and her celestial entourage into one of Magnum's offices, overlooking Toronto's sprawling cityscape, I brace myself. I anticipate a barrage of probing questions from Rayne, her perceptiveness a challenge I'm not sure I'm prepared to face. I need to strategize, to plan my maneuvering around her incisive inquiries. But, before all that, there’s the immediate task of seeing how she reacts to this job proposal.
A realization hits me like a jolt; I've been subconsciously ticking off boxes in my “ring of fire” checklist with Rayne, a list whose existence I hadn’t acknowledged until now. Never again will I allow myself to be vulnerable to betrayal, to be hurt by someone I trust.
Aleah's presence in the office pulls me back to the present. She settles at the conference table, her celestial partners forming a protective semi-circle behind her. She motions to a chair, her voice smooth and inviting. “Have a seat. Can we get you anything before we start?”
Rayne declines and takes her seat, her nervousness is masked by a facade of calm. It's been ages since I last saw Aleah—not since the celestials pulled me back from death’s brink and reshaped me into something more. My memories from that time are shrouded in shock and despair, bits and pieces I’ve stored away for later reflection.
Aleah, a celestial being born of a human and an angel, exudes a power that outshines most supernatural entities. Her mates, Cassiel, Atroyel, and Tristan, are of an even higher echelon, their blood angel status granting them formidable might.
The air in the room crackles with celestial currents, and Aleah’s blue-white Nephilim grace unfurls like ethereal threads, interweaving with her mates’ angelic essence. This display is unexpected—I'm still grappling with the intricacies of magic, but I'm certain Aleah has dropped the glamor that usually masks their power. Why expose their true nature now? It’s a risk, especially with Rayne in the room, a human whose keen perception might catch more than intended.
Rayne's head tilts subtly, her eyes sharp and observant. She's aware of the shift but chooses to wait, to watch. Her reaction, or lack thereof, piques my curiosity. What does she see? What does she know? Rayne continues to intrigue me, and I find myself reluctantly admiring her restraint, her ability to stand amid the unknown without faltering.
Aleah leans forward, and the magic in the room flows between her and her mates. The tattoo on her arm, a living testament to her power, moves subtly. Rayne, ever the curious one, reaches out hesitantly towards it. "May I?" Her voice is soft, almost in awe. "It’s moving." She's speaking her thoughts aloud, probably without realizing it.
Aleah nods, a hint of amusement in her gesture. "You may touch it, and yes, it’s real. What do you see?" She invites Rayne to explore the mystery.
Rayne’s fingers brush against the tattoo, and then she quickly retracts her hand, as if burned by the magic itself. Aleah remains silent, her mates standing guard, their mute presence formidable. "Wow. It’s pulsing," Rayne murmurs, her fascination clear in her voice. She traces the tattoo's intricate design, focusing entirely on the artwork.
Her next question catches me off guard. "How come there’s pixie dust floating around all of you?" She locks eyes with Aleah, her gaze intense. Despite the absurdity of the question, Rayne's earnestness shines through. She’s diving headfirst into the unknown, unafraid of appearing foolish in her quest for understanding. I feel an undeniable pull towards this bravery of hers, this relentless pursuit of truth. It's as if my angelic power recognizes something in her, a resonance that defies my logical resistance.
Aleah glances triumphantly at her mates. Their tattoos pulse, a silent conversation flowing between them.
