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“I’ll be there.”
28
Gabriel
Mila had done the one thing guaranteed to win my father over. Or maybe Mom had twisted his arm; I didn’t know.
But he’d come around. When we returned from Maryland, he’d even unbent enough to ask Mila how the visit had gone. For Karoly Kral, that was as friendly as it got. Apparently she was worthy of me now.
Tomas hadn’t been seen since the night he’d left for Montauk. His bank accounts were untouched and his credit cards hadn’t been used. At least, the ones we were aware of.
My father hadn’t completely accepted that his oldest friend was a traitor. He still hoped to find something exonerating Tomas. Proof that the lieutenant had been set up, or that he’d somehow been blackmailed into collaborating with the slayers.
Frankly, I believed it was more likely we’d find a smoking gun aimed straight at Mraz.
“Think about it,” I told Father. “How the fuck did Redbone set up a nest of blood slaves in the middle of your own city? Tomas is your lieutenant. It’s his job to know about these things.”
Father nodded, his face drawn, his eyes shadowed. “You are correct, of course.”
An unfamiliar pity twisted through me. It couldn’t be easy suspecting your best friend of conspiring against you.
For now, we were keeping things quiet. If word got out that Father’s own lieutenant had been working against him, it would shake the Syndicate to its foundation.
Then there was Zaq. If he’d actually escaped from the slayers, why hadn’t he come home? Either he couldn’t…or he was afraid to.
At least Lougenia was in the clear. I’d hired a forensic hacker to look into my own security system, but first, I’d had him investigate the evidence against Lougenia. It had taken a couple of days, but he was convinced the evidence had been planted.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t prove it. According to him, whoever had planted the evidence was very, very good. They’d set up a false identity just for this job, and routed the commands through so many servers it was impossible to tell where they’d originated.
I told him to keep looking, but if Slayers, Inc. was behind this as well, I didn’t hold out much hope he’d identify the perpetrator. If the Tremblays or another powerful coven was working with the slayers to target me and my family, they’d have made sure to cover their tracks.
Meanwhile, Mila had spent the week with her parents. I had the Fortiers for dinner at Black Oak a couple of times—minus Joey—and Mila stayed each night at the mansion with me, but mostly, I left them alone. They had three years of catching up to do.
Thursday morning, Mila and I returned to New York and spent the day together—shopping; doing touristy things like taking the elevator to the top of the Empire State Building, which I’d arranged to have all to ourselves; having a late lunch at the most exclusive restaurant in Manhattan. Of course, the paparazzi found us—#DarkAngelMate was already trending on Instagram—but I’d had my P.A. prepare our way ahead of time so that we were able to shop and eat in peace.
If this was Mila’s last day, I wanted to make it the best ever. After, I took her back to the penthouse and we made love for hours. Slow, sweet love that turned me inside out until it took all my self-control not to beg her to change her mind.
But she’d convinced me this was what she wanted. Now, difficult as it was, I tried to respect her decision.
Thursday evening, we flew out to Long Island along with my parents. I’d called ahead. My people had already dug a grave for Mila on a cliff overlooking the ocean.
As we exited the helicopter, I placed a hand on her lower back. “I bought this house for you, you know.”
“I knew it.” Her eyes shone up at me.
“There’s even a couple of acres for you to start your organic flower farm. You can sell them right here on the island. People in the Hamptons will snap them up.”
“Oh.” She drew a ragged breath, and then elbowed me in the side. “Don’t make me cry, damn it.”
I just gathered her closer and ignored the sting in my own eyes.
Tradition calls for a transition candidate to wear a shade of red. We’d bought Mila a pretty summer dress at an exclusive Manhattan designer. While I got dressed in my suite, my mom helped Mila change in the rooms next door.
A little before sunset, I knocked on the door. “Ready?”
It was Mila who opened it. My lungs compressed. I barely noticed my mom standing behind her, smiling mistily at us both.
“You look…beautiful.”
