“Brilliant. So all you need is a location within the compound, which I have, but it will only be good for sixty minutes.” Ezekiel pulled out a piece of paper with a crude drawing of what appeared to be Osiris’s estate. The assassin clearly did not excel at art. “Here are the gardens at the back of the estate. This is a little pond, and beyond it is a bush maze.”
“I remember seeing it.” And wondering about its purpose. Seemed rather fantastical for a mansion in the middle of nowhere.
“Wandering that maze is Skye’s favorite outdoor activity. Osiris grants her one hour a day outside—unaccompanied—and she always ventures there.”
Interesting. “He doesn’t worry that she’ll use that time to try to escape?” Because Gabriel would use it to his advantage in that situation.
“No. She can’t leave.”
“Can’t or won’t?” There was a distinct difference.
“Can’t.”
“Because Osiris has compelled her to stay,” Gabriel inferred. “There has to be a way to break it.”
Ezekiel’s dark eyes held his. “If you know of one, I would give you anything in return for that knowledge.”
“Noted,” Gabriel murmured. Ezekiel could prove useful to him, especially if he wanted to learn more about the CRF. It would be prudent to exchange information, and helping him thwart Osiris wouldn’t be a hardship. “What if someone forces her to leave?” he asked, curious. “Wouldn’t that make her unwilling and thereby trick the compulsion?” From what Gabriel understood, persuasion was specific, not ambiguous.
Ezekiel didn’t appear fazed by the notion. If anything, his gaze glittered with memories. Bad ones.
“Osiris has compelled Skye to take her own life if she ever steps off the property, whether willingly or not.” The words were uttered without emotion, but his nostrils flared at the end.
“You’ve tried to move her.”
“Of course. Alas, no distance sways his hold over us, and his punishments are… creative.”
Gabriel scratched his jaw and nodded. “Still, there has to be a way. I will look into it.” If anything, because it will help him pay the debt of Ezekiel’s assistance in reaching Skye.
The Ichorian neither acknowledged nor thanked him, but his stance eased ever so slightly. He couldn’t afford to hope. How depressing.
“When you enter the maze, take your first two lefts. I’ll meet you there, then trace you to Skye. We have a spot.” The Ichorian disappeared on the final word.
“I guess that means we go now,” Gabriel said to the now-empty alley. “And you’d better not be luring me into a trap.”
The air crackled with laughter around him.
Gabriel didn’t bother to respond to it but misted to the outskirts of Osiris’s property. Fresh air and trees surrounded him a second later, forcing him to inhale deeply.
He could see the appeal to living out here. Plenty of land to roam free, perhaps even fly. Most Seraphim didn’t indulge in the activity unless using it for strength training. Enjoyment was an emotion most of his kin frowned upon, but sometimes Gabriel soared through the clouds when he wanted to be alone to think. His wings stretched with the memory of his flight just last night, and his lips threatened to curl.
Already he longed to go again.
And not for practical reasons.
“Being around humans is dangerous,” he muttered as he forced himself to focus on the rune two feet before him. Only a Seraphim would spot the cleverly disguised symbol etched into a tree.
Gabriel added his own markings to temporarily deactivate the silent alarm and stepped through the barrier. Osiris might feel a slight inkling of change if he lurked nearby, but not enough to encourage investigation. More of a nuisance, like wind softly rustling the trees outside his window.
He scouted the area for the second ward and altered it in kind before fixing three more and finally stepping into the interior of the grounds.
Silence greeted his entry, confirming his success at bypassing the security measures in place. They were more a deterrent to keep out an army rather than a single individual. Osiris wouldn’t fear one-off assassins, but he would want to be warned if a group of assailants had arrived. Smart magic.
Gabriel considered his surroundings before misting to the interior of the maze. He listened for any potential threats before cautiously following Ezekiel’s directions. The Ichorian stood waiting for him with an impassive expression.
“Congratulations. You wasted fifteen minutes, Stark.”
“Dismantling wards requires patience,” he replied, unperturbed. “And this conversation will not take long.”
