Visions

On the front stoop, Gabriel looked around. Checking for that sixth sense that told him a threat was near. “Sixth sense” wasn’t the right term. That implied a preternatural power. This was an i

The older he got, the more crucial the skill had become. By the time he was eight, he could no longer count on meals from Sea

When Sea

So, out here at night, on this empty street, he kept prowling, assessing, trying to pinpoint the source of danger. But there was none. Just a deep sense of unease.

As he walked, he counted gargoyles. Most times, he didn’t even look up to see them, just knew where they hid and mentally ticked them off. It helped settle his anxiety, as it had when he was young. A child’s game, perhaps the only one he’d ever known. When he’d come here, to Cainsville with Rose, he was able to be just another boy. It wasn’t like school, where kids knew where he lived, how he lived, who his mother was, and even if they didn’t, they seemed to sense it on him, their own instincts for threat kicking in as they steered clear. In Cainsville, Gabriel could play in the same park as other children and count the same gargoyles.

He got to six before he sensed he wasn’t alone and noticed Veronica half a block away. Insomnia, he presumed. Instinctively, he turned to head back, staying out of her path so he wouldn’t startle her.

“Gabriel?” she called.

He could pretend not to hear. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation. He rarely was, though he’d make the effort in Cainsville.

“Is something wrong?” she asked as she approached.

He felt the urge to say, “I don’t know. Is there?” but stifled it. He was just feeling out of sorts. No need to inflict it on her.

“I’m staying with Olivia,” he said. “We worked late.”

Veronica smiled, a beaming smile that crinkled her eyes. She reached out and squeezed his arm. “I’m glad to see it, Gabriel. So glad.”

He knew what she presumed, no matter how quick he’d been to add the “working late” part. All the elders presumed it. He’d seen that in their faces at the diner. An unattached young man and woman, spending so much time together. They made the natural presumption. Which did not apply to Gabriel. He was already putting himself out enough with this relationship. Taking enough of a chance.

He murmured a demurral. It didn’t matter. Veronica had made up her mind, and his denials were merely sweet and charming. Old-fashioned chivalry.

He tried to leave after that, but it was clear Veronica wanted to chat. He couldn’t be rude to her. However, if she insisted on instigating a conversation, there was no reason he couldn’t choose the topic.

“You’ve lived here all your life, correct?” Gabriel said.

It was a formality. All the elders had. They were as much a fixture of Cainsville as the gargoyles.

When Veronica nodded, he said, “Do you remember Glenys Carew?”

Her lips pursed, as if deep in thought. It was too deep a purse, too great an effort to pretend she needed to consider the question. When she said, “No, I don’t believe I do,” it was the answer he expected. Also, a lie. The fact of the lie didn’t bother him. Everyone lied. The important question was why, and that was always more difficult to answer.

“How about Daere Bowen?” he said.

“Daere.” She corrected his pronunciation to Day-ree. “Yes, I remember Daere.”

“Did you know she was Pamela Larsen’s mother?”

Veronica said nothing. She watched him, with a look he could feel in the pit of his gut. The look didn’t promise threat. Yet it was a warning nonetheless, and when he met her gaze, he felt a tug, as if she was pulling the question from his mind. His anxiety ebbed. There’s nothing wrong. Go back to bed. Watch over Olivia. This isn’t important.

“Yes, it is.”

When he heard himself say the words aloud, he stiffened, waiting for her to give him a look of confusion, of question. She blinked, then nodded, a smile playing at her lips, almost as if … pleased. She looked pleased.

“Olivia’s going to want answers,” he said.

“Yes, I suppose she will.”

That look vanished, but she continued watching him. Waiting. For him to ask the questions? He knew it would do no good. They needed more information first.

“Is she in danger here?” he asked.

Veronica looked surprised. “Danger?”

“Yes, is Olivia in danger? Here. In Cainsville.”

“No. Never.” Her tone was firm, fierce even. “Neither of you are.”

“It’s Olivia I’m concerned about.”

“I know.”

“I won’t allow anything to happen to her.”

She smiled. Warm. Pleased again. He felt as if he’d given something away, revealed too much. The anxiety buzzed in the pit of his stomach, and he wanted to pull back the words.

“Go inside, Gabriel,” she said. “Get some rest.”

He nodded, more curtly than he’d intended, and escaped.

As he stepped into the apartment, he heard a meow and an “Oh!” and found Olivia in the middle of the room, her hair falling in a halo of soft curls, eyes wide with sleepy confusion. She wore only an oversized shirt, feet bare, long legs bare. He jerked his gaze back to her face.

“Alarm,” she said, and lunged for it.

He made it first, entering the code before it went off.

“I thought you’d changed your mind and gone home,” she said. “I was just going to throw the bolt. Is everything okay?”

“I stepped out for some air. Did I wake you?”

She shook her head. “Something…”

He tensed. “You heard something?”

She waved off his concern. “No, no. You’re okay, then?”

“I am.”

“I’m sure that sofa isn’t very comfortable. That might be why you aren’t sleeping. If you’d like to leave…”

He searched her face for a sign that she wanted him gone. He knew he wouldn’t find one. Even when she was a

“I’m fine on the sofa,” he said.

A smile, sleepy but genuine. Happy that he was staying.

“Go on,” he said, waving toward her room.

Another smile as she retreated. “Good night, Gabriel. Sleep well.”

“I will.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

I served Gabriel breakfast the next day—Larry cooked it; I just served. Once Gabriel left, I stepped outside to call Ricky.

“What time do you start work tomorrow?” he asked.

“Ten. Gabriel has a morning appointment and doesn’t need me there until then.”