Red (4 page)

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Authors: Kate Serine

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy

BOOK: Red
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Chapter 6
 
I took another sip of my coffee—which was perfect, damn it all—then cast an angry glance at Nate. “I still don’t see why we couldn’t take my Range Rover.”
“Are you still mad about that?” he asked. “No offense, Red, but I know what they pay you at the FMA. You could afford a better car.”
“I don’t
want
a better car,” I insisted. “That Rover has gotten me out of a jam more than once. I know it’s not great to look at, but I’ve never had to worry about getting stuck in a bog.”
“Because we have so many bogs in Chicago . . .” Nate grinned.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. How about snow? There’s no shortage of snow.”
Nate sighed, his patience with my petulance apparently wearing thin. “Like I said, when we’re on official business for the FMA, I’m supposed to be in my unmarked. Besides, call me old-fashioned, but I think the guy should drive.”
“I’ll call you a pig for that one,” I told him.
Nate grunted.
“Anyway,” I went on, “can’t you just do that swoosh thing? Why do you even need to drive a car?”
“I don’t do that unless it’s necessary,” he said. “It tends to make people uneasy.”
“Tell me about it,” I mumbled. When I glanced over at him, he was staring straight ahead, his expression dark even for him.
He shrugged a little and rolled his head, then reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and withdrew a pack of chewing gum. He pulled out a foil-wrapped stick and offered it to me. “Want any? It’s spearmint.”
“No thanks.” I shook my head, wishing I could get up in his head. The guy was a total mystery to me—and not just because he had the whole Death thing going for him. I had the distinct impression that Nate Grimm was a many-layered persona that covered for someone no one really knew.
After a few minutes of dedicated mastication, Nate said, “So, you want to tell me where we’re headed?”
I shifted in my seat and took another sip of my coffee before answering. “He’s probably still asleep, so we can try his apartment.”
Nate took out his phone and started dialing a number. “I’ll have headquarters text me his address.”
“Don’t need to.”
Nate’s brows lifted. “You already looked it up?”
I squirmed again, squinting against the early March sunlight even through my shades. “I find people for a living,” I reminded him. “I’ve known Seth’s whereabouts since we came over.”
“Ah.”
My head snapped around. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Nate shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Listen,” I said, turning in my seat to face him, “there’s nothing wrong with looking after someone I cared about once upon a time.”
“I didn’t say there was.” He gave me a bemused look like he didn’t know why I was being so defensive. Or maybe I was just projecting.
“I just want to make sure he’s doing okay,” I explained, “that he’s not in any trouble.”
Nate nodded. “Sure.”
I studied his profile for a few seconds, trying to figure out if he was being serious or just being an ass. When I realized he was on the level, I said in a much calmer tone, “By the way, turn right up here at the light.”
Nate dutifully followed my directions, then drove in silence for several minutes before asking, “So, how long’s it been since you’ve actually talked to the guy?”
I shrugged. “Not since our story.”
“Not a word?”
I shook my head.
Nate cleared his throat a couple of times, then said, “You realize he’s probably not the same guy anymore, right? I mean, deep down, you know it’s possible he’s changed, yeah?”
I stared straight ahead, leaving Nate’s question hanging in the air.
Of course I knew it. That’s why I’d stayed away. I needed to believe Seth was the same person I’d fallen in love with, the same person who’d abandoned me, the same person who I was still angry with after all these years. Because if he wasn’t, everything I was, everything I’d become, meant nothing. But I wasn’t about to admit that aloud.
A few minutes later, we squeezed into a parking spot in front of a dilapidated apartment building that looked like it’d missed the memo on urban renewal. The stone steps dipped in the middle where decades of footsteps had worn a permanent groove, and the paint on the doors and window casements probably hadn’t seen a brush since the Nixon era. Several of the windows boasted air-conditioning units even though they wouldn’t be necessary for a few months. And, pacing back and forth in front of the building, a strung-out junkie twitched and muttered to himself about the End Times and eternal damnation.
“Nice place,” Nate mumbled as we made our way up the steps.
“Seth tends to live in places with a lot of . . . character,” I explained, searching the intercom buttons for one that wasn’t broken. “It makes his condition easier to hide when there’s plenty of other weirdness to divert attention away from him.”
Nate glanced around, taking in the rest of the grime and disrepair in the surrounding neighborhood. “Something tells me there’s no shortage of drama around here.”
As if on cue, a deafening crash and a woman’s loud, angry voice sounded from somewhere down the street, making us both turn in time to see a half-dressed man beating a hasty retreat, ducking and covering as a heavy frying pan came flying after him.
“And there goes one of those characters now,” Nate drawled with an amused smirk.
I gave him an irritated look, then pressed the button at the bottom of the row. A moment later, a woman’s groggy voice said, “Hello?”
“Hey!” I called back like she should recognize my voice. “Sorry to bug you—I lost my keys! Crazy night, ya know? Can you buzz me in?”
“That’ll never work,” Nate mouthed to me.
The woman giggled over the intercom. “I can
totally
relate! Hope you find your keys!”
When the door’s lock sprung open at the sound of the buzzer, I lifted my brows at Nate and ushered him in ahead of me. “After you, Detective Know It All.”
The corner of Nate’s mouth hooked up in the merest hint of a grin. “I stand corrected.”
“How about walking corrected?” I said, casting a glance toward the junkie. “Our pal the prophet is starting to take an interest in us. I think he might recognize you.”
The shadows around Nate’s face deepened immediately in response. Without even so much as a glance at the junkie, he flipped up the collar on his overcoat and pulled his fedora a little farther down over his eyes. “Let’s go.”
“So does that happen often?” I asked as the door clicked shut behind us.
Nate’s expression was hard to read beneath the shadows. “Often enough.”
“Then maybe I should go first.”
I stepped over a still-drunk twenty-something passed out at the bottom of the stairs and made my way to the third floor, feeling Nate’s presence at my back even though his footsteps were silent on the well-worn wooden stairs. It was oddly comforting to know I had a colleague, a partner, behind me, backing me up. Until that moment, I’d never realized how vulnerable and exposed I’d been in these kinds of situations before when I’d been on my own. Considering what I was about to face—both literally and figuratively—I was glad to have Nate with me.
When we reached the third-floor landing, I motioned down the hall toward apartment 324. Nate gave me a nod and followed me to take up positions on either side of the door. I knocked loudly and waited for a response. When none came, I knocked again, louder. This time, I heard a rustle of movement and the light tread of bare feet upon the floor as they approached the door.
I frowned, double-checking the apartment number on the door. It was the right place, but the wrong footsteps. Just then, the door swung open to reveal a lithe young woman with long, sleep-tousled dark hair wearing a hastily buttoned man’s dress shirt.
“Can I help you?” she asked, peering at us with bleary eyes.
My stomach dropped so swiftly to my feet, I couldn’t open my mouth for fear the amazing breakfast Nate had prepared would come launching back up.
“We’re looking for Seth Wolf,” Nate stepped in, coming to my rescue.
The woman glanced back and forth between the two of us, then said slowly, “He already left for work.”
“And where’s work?” Nate probed.
The woman narrowed her eyes at Nate, obviously growing more suspicious by the second. “What’s this about?”
“Who are you?” I breathed, finally finding my voice.
She turned her large dark eyes toward me and blinked away the sleepy haze as she focused on my face. “Who are
you
?”
“I asked you first,” I snapped, inexplicable anger making my voice loud in the close hallway.
Nate smoothly edged in front of me. “Miss, we need to talk to Mr. Wolf regarding a matter of utmost importance. Could you please tell us where we can find him?”
She narrowed her eyes at Nate, studying him intently. “How about you tell me where
he
can find
you
?”
“Tell him Tess Little was here,” I said. “He’ll know how to find me.”
With that, I turned on my heel and practically fled the stifling confines of the apartment building, bursting through the doors and out into the open where I could breathe again. I took in great gulps of cool air, trying to calm my racing heart. When that didn’t work, I bent forward, bracing my hands against my knees for a moment, trying to pull myself together before Nate came out.
“Red?”
Damn. Too late.
“Leave me alone,” I mumbled, straightening quickly and rushing to the car. I jerked open the door and dropped into the seat. I ran my hands through my hair, then down over my face to regain my composure.
Nate got in a moment later and sat in silence for a few seconds before asking, “You okay?”
“Just go,” I ordered. “I just want to get out of here.”
Nate obediently started the car but didn’t put it into gear. “I’ve been there, you know.”
“Good for you. Now, let’s go.”
“You don’t have a monopoly on broken hearts,” he went on in spite of my obvious lack of enthusiasm for the topic.
When it became apparent he wasn’t going to start driving unless I started talking, I sighed and said, “Okay. I’ll bite. What was her name?”
“Pandora.”
This made me blink in surprise. “
The
Pandora?”
Nate put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. “One and the same.”
The wicked little devil on my shoulder snickered and prodded me to make some innuendo-laden crack about Pandora’s box, but I resisted. Instead I said, “Are you kidding me?”
He cast an offended glance my way. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
I shrugged. “Well, you’re
Death.
”
Nate’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “There’s more to me than this job, Red.”
I turned my gaze upon him, studying his profile for a long moment. The shadows had dissipated, but the intensity of his expression hadn’t. I immediately felt bad for pigeonholing him so unfairly. I’d been struggling to break away from my storybook persona for so long now, I’d forgotten I probably wasn’t the only one.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “Of course there’s more to you. I’m learning that more and more with every minute we spend together.” When I saw the slight flush on his cheeks and felt my own growing warm, I quickly added, “So, what happened?”
“Nothing.”
I frowned at him. “If you didn’t want to talk about it, why’d you bring it up?”
Nate glanced over at me and chuckled. “No, I mean, nothing happened. Ever. I was just infatuated with her from afar. She didn’t even know I existed—well, you know, not in this form.”
“Okay. . . . So what’s your point?”
“I guess my point is you can’t expect the other person to sit around and wait for you if he doesn’t even know how you feel.”
“So, we’re back to the fact that I haven’t talked to Seth since we came over?” I demanded angrily. “I didn’t say I expected him to pine for me all these years and not move on. I was just blindsided, okay?”
“That was pretty obvious.”
“Besides, it’s not like I haven’t moved on,” I continued. “I’ve been with plenty of people.”
“I’m aware of that.”
I jerked back a little at his remark. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Nate sighed. “Listen, I don’t mean to offend you or anything. I’ve just known you for a while now and have never seen you really stick it out with anyone for very long.”
“So what?” I demanded.

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