Things That Go Hump In The Night (8 page)

"You can be the Executive Vice President of Product Development," Gabriel countered. "But in that case, I insist you wear a suit and tie to work, and you know Michael will back me up on that one."

Rafe made an ancient gesture against the Evil Eye and laughed.

"I'll call Michael tonight and let him know what we're planning," Gabriel continued. "What's the time zone for Bora-Bora?"

Now that he had Rafe's blessing, Gabriel was determined to tie Nicole to Archangel Security Networks as quickly—and tightly—as possible.

"Gabriel, wait," Rafe said, all business now. His tone brought Gabriel up short. "Before we do anything...there's another reason I came to talk to you. I've discovered something. And you're not going to like it."

"Oh?" Gabriel asked warily.

"I did an in-depth background search on Nicole, and the results were...odd. She's moved around an awful lot."

"She's still fairly young. Maybe she's been looking for the perfect place to settle down?" Gabriel ventured, playing devil's advocate.

"She left her job-before-last with no warning. Just disappeared during a lunch hour with a short email advising them that something urgent and personal had come up and she had to leave town. They gave her a good reference because she finished 99% of what she'd been hired to do, but the guy I talked to said the whole situation was really weird. The morning before she left, she was apparently really freaked out about something," Rafe said. "She's never stayed in any place longer than a year...and I couldn't dig up any information regarding her supposed graduation from Cal Poly."

Wait—"supposed graduation?" What did that mean?
thought Gabriel.

Rafe was still speaking. "—no bank records, no credit reporting information, and the HR departments of her three earliest jobs tell me that she never worked there. Going back a little further, I couldn't find any records of a Nicole Jaeger attending Cal Poly at all during the time she claims to have been a student there."

Shit
. Gabriel put his elbows on his desk and leaned forward. "And yet she's got the skills and the education she claims to have?"

Rafe nodded.

"Sounds like someone set her up with a new identity," Gabriel mused, more bothered by Rafe's revelations than he wanted to admit. He didn't want to believe that Nicole might not be what she seemed. "You think someone sent her here as a spy? Did you find any evidence of industrial espionage? Any connections to firms owned by the PRC?"

It wouldn't be the first time that Archangel Security Networks had been targeted by agents of foreign governments.

Rafe shrugged. "I've been monitoring her system log files, but that's SOP for any contractor. So far, she hasn't tried to do anything outside the scope of her assigned work. But the fact is, she lied on her resume, and she's almost certainly using a fake identity. We're a security company—you know how that looks."

Falsifying a resume was grounds for instant dismissal. And yet Gabriel was reluctant to fire Nicole, and he sensed that his brother felt the same way.

"There might be other reasons for hiding her true identity," Gabriel said, still playing devil's advocate. "She's an untrained shape-shifter, and, as far as we know, neither bonded to a Child of Lilith as a
philtata
nor sworn to an alpha." Gabriel's heart sank as he considered the possibilities. "So maybe she's trying to outrun something she did...Do you think that maybe she killed someone by mistake, before she figured out how to cage her wolf?"

Rafe sighed gustily. It was obvious that he wasn't enjoying this conversation any more than Gabriel was.

"It's plausible," he agreed. "Except that I've already been in contact with Mark Aquila, and he's never heard of Nicole Jaeger or any shape-shifter fitting her description."

And if anyone would know, it would be Mark, who was a shape-shifter himself, and very old.

His birth name had been Marcus Aquila Julianus, and before being turned, he'd been a centurion in an ancient Roman legion. As a Hunter, he kept tabs on every shape-shifter in North America and most of the European ones as well.

"On the bright side," Rafe continued, "I wasn't able to find reports of any murders in any of Nicole's previous cities of residence that would point to a rogue shape-shifter."

"But you're suspicious that a previously unknown shape-shifter just happens to come to work at a successful company run by Children of Lilith, and we're supposed to believe it's a coincidence?"

"Bingo," replied Rafe. He dug his fingers into his long hair. "And it's a bummer. She's pretty much the perfect candidate for the system architect position. It would be nice not to have to design version 3.0 all by myself."

"What do your instincts say?" asked Gabriel.

Rafe thought for a long moment, and shrugged. "They tell me that our Nicole has some big secrets but that she's not out to harm us or the company."

Gabriel nodded. He felt the same way.

"Good enough. I want to talk to her before we make any final decisions about terminating her contract—or offering her the system architect position," he said. "We'll keep on monitoring her, but my gut tells me that she's trustworthy and that whatever else is going on with her, it's personal."

Chapter 4 – Tasting Menu

"What are you doing on Saturday night?" Gabriel demanded.

Nicole blinked, taken by surprise.

When she had been summoned to his office, she had felt like a kid called to the principal's office. But her momentary stab of anxiety had faded as soon as she closed the door behind her and saw his welcoming expression.

They hadn't spoken since the project team meeting, but Gabriel hadn't seemed annoyed with her, only busy.

As was she, working with Rafe on the next phase of the project.

She liked programming, but doing design work was...fun. A
lot
of fun.

And she really enjoyed working with Rafe. He was as smart as any of her professors, he had a sarcastic sense of humor, and best of all, he had a mini-fridge in his messy office. Stocked with beer. He brought out bottles of craft brew whenever they got together for a brainstorming session to figure out a knotty problem with the proposed features for Version 3.0.

As executive offices went, Gabriel's was pretty impressive, tastefully furnished with a large mahogany desk that looked like an antique, a plush wine-colored carpet, and comfortable leather chairs in an old-fashioned style that complemented the desk. A wall of windows behind his desk provided a spectacular view over downtown.

It would be stunning at night when all the buildings were lit up, she thought.

And if Rafe had a mini-fridge in his office, she saw Gabriel had an honest-to-goodness wet bar, the polished granite top crowded with bottles of expensive booze and a chrome rack holding rows of heavy-looking cut-crystal glasses.

And he had a professional-grade Italian espresso maker, huge and sleek and covered in chrome, she saw with instant envy.

He probably offered drinks to visiting venture capitalists and bigwig sales prospects, just before he talked them into signing generous deals with Archangel Security Networks.

Gabriel was wearing another one of his Italian suits. As the faint scent of his spicy cologne reached her, she thought he looked good enough to eat.

His predatory expression just added to the attraction, though she didn't usually go for overbearing types.

But Gabriel wasn't overbearing. He just
was
. That was what made him so hard to resist.

She folded her arms, not wanting to seem too eager, though his question had sent a frisson of excitement shooting through her.

"I have plans," she said, just to see what he'd do.

Besides, it wasn't really a lie. Staying home to binge-watch the entire first season of a classic TV series on DVD counted as
plans
, didn't it?

"But I might reconsider if a better offer came my way," she added hastily as she saw his eyes narrow in disappointment.

"I've made dinner reservations at Shiroyama for 8:00 p.m. It's a Japanese-fusion place on 8
th
Street. I'd like it very much if you joined me," Gabriel said, in a clipped voice.

Okay, his words sounded an awful lot like "go on a date with me," but his tone sure didn't.

"Business or pleasure?" she asked, warily.

He gave her a slow smile that did inappropriate things to her insides. "Both, actually."

"How on earth did you get reservations to Shiroyama?" she blurted.

After a stellar review in the Foodie Sunday section of the paper last summer and a subsequent blizzard of five-star Yelp reviews, tables at the restaurant were now booked six months in advance.

The restaurant's owner and chef, Alexander Sato, had become a local celebrity and a regular fixture on the cooking segments featured on the
Cuppa Joe
morning show.

Gabriel's smile widened. "I'm an investor. And I've known Alex Sato since he worked as
sous
-chef at Edo Kitchen. I'll introduce you if you come to dinner with me."

If she said yes—and she
really
wanted to say yes, and not just because it was Shiroyama, but because it would be Shiroyama with
Gabriel
—she'd have to dip into her savings and brave the stores on Saturday morning to buy a decent dress and some fancy shoes. And get her hair and nails done.

No
way
was she going to show up at Shiroyama looking like a slob.

"Should I pick you up around 7:30, or do you want to meet me there?" Gabriel asked.

Nicole laughed. As
if
there had ever been any real chance she was going to turn him down, and he obviously knew it!

"I'll meet you there," she said. "Are you a
7:30-sharp
kind of guy, or a
7:30-ish
kind of guy?"

"Sharp," he replied, looking pleased with himself. "But you already knew that, right? That'll give us time to have a cocktail before we're seated for dinner.”

Arrogant bastard
, she thought, but without any heat. On him, it looked good. Not that she'd ever let him know.

"Gabriel, how often do people say
no
to you?" Nicole asked, teasing.

"Not as often as you'd think, but more often than
I
like."

That drew another laugh from her.

"Thank you for the invitation," she said sincerely. "I've been dying to eat there since I read the reviews."

She realized she was going to miss him, and Rafe, and the rest of the Archangel team when she moved to her next job.

How had she let that happen? She was usually more careful to keep her distance...

Gabriel gave her one of his sexy smiles, and she felt a burst of heat in the pit of her stomach. "I'm really looking forward to Saturday, Nicole. And do me a favor?"

She tilted her head in an
I'm listening
gesture.

His tone turned serious. "Don't accept any other job offers before then. Please?"

* * *

"You look beautiful," Gabriel said as Nicole approached the restaurant.

It was 7:25 p.m. on Saturday night—she had given herself plenty of time to find parking, always a challenge downtown—but he was already there, waiting by the front door.

She grinned at him, pleased by the compliment.

She'd spent several hours trying on dresses before finding a vintage cocktail dress that was both flattering and affordable. Her new heels looked great and were reasonably comfortable, so her shopping expedition had been a win, overall. A wide cuff bracelet on her left wrist concealed the red string bracelet.

She never let anyone see it, if she could help it.

Erik had ordered her never to tell anyone about the bracelet, or about him, and he had laid some kind of whammy on her to make her obey his orders.

Despite escaping from him, she had not yet been able to break that particular compulsion.

She offered Gabriel her hand. "You look pretty sharp yourself," she said, and it was true.

He was wearing another one of his tailored Italian suits, though he'd probably look sexy in boxer shorts and Birkenstocks, she thought wryly.

Oh girl, you've got it bad.

To her surprise—and pleasure—he took her hand, then bent and brushed a quick kiss across her knuckles. His lips were cool, and her skin tingled pleasantly from the contact.

Her wolf, still relatively calm five days after Cage Night, sighed happily at his touch and settled down completely.

Not for the first time, Nicole wondered what it was about Gabriel that made her inner werewolf do the monster equivalent of rolling over and begging for a tummy rub every time he got close.

Her wolf was indifferent to most people she met and actively disliked a few.

Nicole's wolf had wanted to tear Erik's throat out each time he touched her...an opinion that Nicole had shared.

But her wolf had
never
reacted to anyone the way that she reacted to Gabriel. It was unsettling, to say the least.

Gabriel offered her his arm, and she took it, letting him lead her inside.

Nicole had never liked crowds much, and since becoming a werewolf, her heightened senses of hearing and smell made any crowded venue an ordeal.

She was afraid that Shiroyama's popularity would mean an evening spent sitting in a crammed dining room, elbow-to-elbow with people who were shouting to be heard over loud music.

But Shiroyama was a perfect oasis of quiet serenity.

The downstairs dining room, paneled with age-darkened cypress wood salvaged from old Japanese houses, was fairly small, and the tables were spaced to give maximum privacy to diners. Each table was covered with white linen and hosted a deceptively simple flower arrangement on a hollowed-out slate tile. The music was classical and played at low volume, making it easy to converse.

The hostess, a young Japanese-American woman wearing a shimmering dark red silk pantsuit, greeted Gabriel as "Mr. Amestra," introduced herself as Ami, and gave Nicole a courteous nod that nevertheless sized her up.

"We'd like to start with cocktails," Gabriel told Ami.

Ami led them to the back of the restaurant, down a narrow hallway, past the bustling, spotless kitchen.

The hallway opened onto a courtyard that had been glassed over and turned into a Zen garden with beds of sand and pebbles raked into pleasing patterns around a large water-worn granite boulder.

The space felt airy and very serene, the peaceful atmosphere heightened by flickering candles set inside paper lanterns.

Small tables stood scattered around the brick-paved perimeter of the courtyard, most of them already full, and the conversation was lively but muted.

The bar stood against the back wall of the courtyard, made from a massive cypress plank polished to a high patina and set atop a weathered bronze base.

"Wow," murmured Nicole, impressed.

Ami led them to a free table.

"Mr. Amestra, do you want your usual?" she asked.

He nodded. "But bring a menu for my friend. It's her first time here."

"Sure thing!" Ami departed.

"There's that Mr. Amestra thing again." He shook his head ruefully. "I've asked Alex's kids to call me Gabriel now that they're all grown up, but I guess it's hard for them to make the transition."

"Sounds like you've known them a long time," commented Nicole, interested in this little glimpse into Gabriel's life outside work.

"I remember seeing Ami with braces on her teeth, doing her homework in the corner of the dining room at Edo Kitchen, waiting for Alex to finish his shift," Gabriel said quietly, sounding oddly melancholy. "Time goes by so quickly."

He sounded positively ancient, and Nicole wondered if maybe he was older than he looked. She had originally pegged him as being in his early-to-mid thirties, but he occasionally said things that made her wonder if he wasn't older and just had great skin.

Ami returned and handed her a drink card, embossed on stiff, heavy paper. Nicole read through it and gave Gabriel a wry look.

"I don’t recognize a single thing on this menu," she confessed. "I'm not even sure what
shochu
is, other than it's an ingredient in every single drink here, and it comes in barley, rice, buckwheat, and sweet potato flavors. Can I ask you for a recommendation?"

Gabriel, bless him, did not laugh at her, though his dark eyes danced with mirth.

"
Shochu
is a type of Japanese liquor, made from pretty much anything that can be distilled into booze," he explained. "The mixed drinks are all very good, but I can order something for you if you like. Do you prefer sweet and fruity, mildly sweet and refreshing, sweet and creamy, sweet and spicy, herbal, or...adventurous?"

"Define adventurous," she challenged him.

He tapped one of the items near the bottom of the list. "This one is traditional, made with sardine broth," he told her and chuckled at the expression on her face.

"I think I'll pass. And now I'm rethinking my request to ask you for a recommendation."

His smile turned wicked. "Think of it as a trust exercise," he challenged. "Do you trust me, Nicole?"

She did. She wasn't sure why—she barely knew him, and she was surprised she would consider trusting
anyone
after Erik...

Oh hell no, I am
not
going to ruin a wonderful evening out at the best restaurant in the city by thinking about
him
.

"Trust has to be earned," she told him, with mock solemnity. "Choose wisely."

He laughed out loud, showing even white teeth, and when Ami returned, he said something to her in rapid Japanese.

"I wouldn't have pegged you for a sardine-lover," she murmured, giving Nicole a tiny, mischievous smile as she swiped the drink card off the table and swished away.

"You
didn't
," said Nicole.