Servant: The Kindred Page 20

  Luther’s blood pressure went sky-high. “He who?”

  “Bogg’s brother, I think.” She said to someone else, “You are Bogg’s asshole brother, right?”

  Luther heard more cursing, another crack or two, and Gaby said, “I really do need to go, Luther.”

  He closed his eyes, but nothing brilliant came to him. “Is anyone shooting at you?”

  “No.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Just two.”

  The odds weren’t bad at all—unless he thought of the odds of the two guys surviving. It was a long shot, but he offered, “I’ll send a beat unit your way. They could be there in two minutes.”

  “No, don’t do that.” Her voice lowered. “Seriously, Luther, that’d be a bad move.”

  Frustration crawled over him, sent his temper through the roof, then settled in as resignation. He knew Gaby would be tough to deal with.

  “All right.” What choice did he have? Luther knew that even if he had the time to race to her side, she’d have the conflict resolved one way or another long before then. “But promise me that you won’t dismember, incapacitate, or otherwise paralyze anyone if you can help it. Promise me, Gaby.”

  “Party pooper.”

  Jesus. “And if you get into any real trouble, call me so I can help. Promise me.”

  “All right. I promise.”

  “Thank you.” Marginally relieved, Luther started to disconnect the call, then thought to add, just to devil her in return, “Gaby? I really do care for you, honey. Remember that.”

  She went silent, then let out an exaggerated sigh. “You fight dirty, cop.”

  When the line went dead, Luther realized he was smiling. She’d turned him into a half-wit; nothing else explained the ability for humor during such an awful time.

  He stuck the phone back in his pocket and got out of the car.

  The rancid stench of burned wood, plastic, and fabric, along with something more noxious, still hung in the air. Staked police tape warned off curious spectators. Ann ensured that no one from their station compromised the crime scene—what was left of it.

  She’d backed everyone away from the area, and given strict orders that nothing was to be touched, not even a singed gum wrapper on the ground.

  She didn’t mention Luther’s delay in joining her, but instead launched into business. “The boys said it’s the only place on the street that qualifies, so it’s ours. The houses here are spaced out, only five on the private road, and the others are occupied with normal, family-type folk.” Ann looked up at him. “This one was vacant.”

  “Or not,” Luther said. “I’m guessing our psycho moved in unnoticed.”

  Ann didn’t argue that probability. “He’s got enough privacy here that no one would hear a woman screaming for help.”

  Or in agony. “Probably kept her in the basement.” Luther paced along the perimeter. The concrete walls of the house’s subfloor remained. In the cement blocks of one wall, he could see what might have been the bolts to hold shackles in place. “You call forensics yet?”

  “On their way. But it’s going to be a conflict.”

  “Local fire department?”

  “They said they put the blaze out last night, but not before most of the house was already gone. From what they could tell, the fire started in the basement, got into the walls, and up she went.”

  Just as someone had planned. Luther kept a tenuous hold on his temper. “It’s an old place, so not as protected with modern materials as a newer home might’ve been.”

  Ann put a hand on her hip. “And get this. The bomb guy and the arson investigators are already on it, because naturally the fire was deliberate. Gasoline, they think. And yeah, they saw the bolts in the wall, along with some other suspicious stuff.”

  “Like?”

  “Broken vials. The type that might’ve held drugs.” She shielded her eyes from the sun. “I’m supposed to get a call from the guy in charge. I’ll know more then.”

  “It’s possible they found evidence buried under the ash, and didn’t even know it.”

  “I like a man who thinks positive thoughts.”

  Yeah, they both knew it was a crapshoot. “Let’s talk to the neighbors, see if they saw any activity. Maybe someone can identify a car or give us a description of someone they noticed hanging around.”

  “Arson guys already did that, but, hey, my dance card is free.” She held out an arm for him to lead the way. “I’m in if you are.”

  Chapter 14

  Gaby slid her phone back into her pocket. Why did Luther have to call right then, and why did she feel obligated to honor his request? The cretin in front of her needed a good beating. Or worse. He was a clear threat to the kids, most especially to Dacia and Malinal.

  Next to her target, another guy vibrated with leashed anger. “C’mon, Whit, let me teach her some respect.”

  “Shut up, Mud.”

  Gaby raised a brow. “Whit? Mud? You’re kidding me, right? What kind of lame-ass gangster names are those?”

  Whit raised a hand, halting Mud’s automatic reaction. Whit seemed to have a modicum more control than his buddy. But not much. He was plenty pissed, and it showed.

  Of course, thanks to her, blood dripped from his nose down his chin. He didn’t wipe it away. “Is there a reason you struck me?”

  “Yeah.”

  He waited, and when she said no more, his face tightened. “Care to share it?”

  She shrugged. “You interrupted my phone call. That’s rude.”

  His eyes damn near glowed. Hazel eyes that, when iced with fury, took on a hue of gold. Freaky. She could understand why the kids feared him. Not that she gave a shit what his eyes looked like. In her lifetime, she’d seen a whole lot worse than him.

  She’d slaughtered worse, too.

  All around Whit, his aura churned with menace and mental disease. He looked tough, but weakness showed through the haze of abuse. This guy was one who liked to put up a hard-ass front, but he needed someone else to lead him.

  Through his teeth, Whit said, “You stepped in front of me.”

  “Yeah, I know. I didn’t like where you were headed.” Behind Gaby, the kids stirred. Odd that after her last display in front of them and the bloodbath she’d left behind, none of them seemed to fear her. In fact, she felt surrounded by their support and their confidence.

  Goofy kids. They were young, so they’d learn.

  Spittle flew from Whit’s mouth when he roared, “Where the fuck did you think I was going?”

  “Too close to where the kids play.” Narrowing her eyes, Gaby wiped off her arm. “I’d suggest you not spit on me again. I don’t like it.”

  “It’s a public street, woman. More to the point, this is prime real estate.”

  “For selling drugs?”

  His chest puffed out. “I’ll go wherever I fucking well please.”

  “Not if I say different.” Damn, she wanted to flatten him. Hoping he’d make a move, that he’d dare to test her, Gaby stepped away from the kids—and closer to Whit. “I won’t have you and the other thugs fighting over this block. Your pissing contests almost always end up in gunfire, so from now on I don’t want to see your ugly mug anywhere around here.”

  Mud twitched with angry energy. “Let me dust her, Whit.” He made to reach inside his jacket.

  Gaby gave him her steely-eyed attention. “Pull a gun around all these kids,” she told him, “and I swear to God, I’ll cram it down your throat.”

  Whit held up a hand, stilling Mud’s automatic reaction. “And if I have business here?”

  “Don’t.” Gaby moved in so close she could feel the heat of his tall, trim body. Ensuring that the kids wouldn’t hear, she whispered, “Do your business elsewhere, Whit. I’m giving you fair warning. Because if I see you here again, I’ll break your bones.”

  He studied her head to toes, and came to a silent conclusion. “You’re the bitch who pulled a blade on my brother.”

 
; “Bogg tell you that?” She would love to hear the story. It always sounded more graphic when someone else related it.

  “Bogg isn’t saying shit.”

  That surprised her. “No?”

  “He got an infection and went into a coma. He might fucking well die.”

  Huh. She hadn’t really counted on that, but . . . “Oh well.”

  Whit’s neck went rigid. His eerie eyes gleamed. “You’ll pay for what you did.”

  “Yeah. Someday, no doubt I will.” Gaby looked at his compressed mouth, then back to his eyes. “But we both know it won’t be today, and never by your hand. So be smart, Whit. Stay the hell away from here. Let the kids play in peace.”

  Expectation pulsed in the air between them. One second, two, three. As prepared as she’d ever be, Gaby waited.

  Whit stepped back. “Come on, Mud.”

  Mud balked. “You fucking kidding me?”

  Already on his way back to where he’d come from, Whit snapped, “Move your ass!”

  Mud couldn’t resist shooting Gaby one last look of caution. He pointed at her as he walked backward, warning her of his intent.

  Gaby held out her arms, inviting anything he wanted to bring. But, damn it, it wasn’t enough. Rage cramped her muscles, left her guts hollow and empty with the need to physically attack.

  She turned back to Dacia. “Get your sister. It’s time for us to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “Someplace safe. Someplace you’ll love.” Gaby gave the girl a nudge and then retrieved her phone. “I promise.”

  “All right.” Dacia ran over to where Malinal played on the old discarded sofa, and dragged the younger girl back by the hand.

  Gaby noticed how alike the two sisters looked, just as she noticed how Dacia had set herself up as protector, nurturer, and provider. “Do you need to gather any belongings?”

  Dacia hung her head. “We have little of value, a change of clothes, and Mali’s doll . . . ”

  Damn. “We’ll get everything. Don’t worry.” Keeping the phone to her ear, Gaby put a hand on Dacia’s shoulder, offered Malinal a smile, and finally Bliss answered.

  “Hello?”

  Gaby wasted no time. “I’ve got a great surprise for you, Bliss. Are you at the apartment?”

  “Gaby? Yes, I’m here, but what—”

  “I’ll be over in twenty minutes. If you can, have a nice hot meal ready.” She looked at the girls, and added, “Enough for three more.”

  And she hung up before her friend could ask any questions.

  Through the sparkling glass in the front window of his shop, Fabian took in the dramatic tableau with great merriment. This altered everything in a monumental way. Already he’d adjusted his objective for the special girl, Gaby.

  Heady excitement kept him glued to the spot as he continued to watch her. For such a kick-ass, butch bitch, she feigned great maternal instincts, hustling the little girls away from the area and from any intended harm.

  Whit had to be furious, and with good reason. Gaby had backed him down with nothing more than her reputation, loads of attitude, and one punch.

  An amazing girl. A girl unlike any other.

  Knowing Whit’s seething temper, he’d be happy to assist Fabian in what needed to be done.

  But not yet.

  For now, Fabian just wanted to keep the heady discoveries all to himself.

  He savored the telling realizations.

  Gaby had a weakness, a wonderful, delectable, easily corrupted weakness. The dirty little urchins she sought to guard were already on his radar. He would have that youngest girl. Oh yes, he would. But he’d also have Gaby and that would prove even more luscious.

  Pulling himself away from the window, Fabian left the main room and sequestered himself in his office to wallow more privately in his glee.

  He recognized the little savage now. Yes he did. It hadn’t struck him until Gaby looked at the child with her steely barriers down. Her softness exposed new dimensions to her personality, and Fabian saw what he hadn’t seen before. The resemblance, the similarity in facial traits.

  Gaby looked just like her mother.

  Unable to contain himself, Fabian put his hands over his mouth and squealed like a schoolboy. It was too perfect, too delicious for words.

  Putting his head back, he hugged himself to contain his mirth.

  The only true nemesis he’d ever encountered, the only person who even came close to matching his intelligence, cunning, and courage, was an exact replica of the whore he’d used and left twenty some years ago. The timing coincided with Gaby’s age.

  And given those eyes of hers, light blue and piercing, well, it was plain to him.

  He was her father.

  It made sense. Gaby was like him in so many ways; among inferior society, they had preeminent significance. They each stood out, in every way.

  There would be some conflicts. Two great minds were bound to clash on occasion. But he could work that out with her. He was Gaby’s senior near about thirty years. He had more experience.

  She was wise enough to bow to him, to heed his excellence.

  Fabian couldn’t wait to tell her. Thinking of that auspicious moment, he laughed again, and even he knew it sounded maniacal.

  And why not? He’d just found a way to outdo his own wicked taboo of eating a child: he would share the meal with his daughter.

  And if Gaby proved squeamish, if she disappointed him by being too weak, too narrow-minded to join him, well then, he would do what was necessary.

  He would shatter every social doctrine of morality—by dining on his own flesh and blood.

  Bliss finished mashing potatoes just as Gaby got to the top of the steps. So industrious in preparing her meal, she hadn’t yet heard them. She wore an apron over her jeans and had tied up her brown hair.

  Pork chops sizzled on the stove, and green beans boiled in a pot. Warm steam and the aroma of food filled the kitchen. Gaby sniffed the air, and heard Dacia’s stomach rumble.

  No reason to keep the girls waiting. They had to be hungry. And tired. And still very unnerved by the changes about to take place.

  After Gaby dropped their paltry belongings in the foyer of the apartment building, Mali hung back. All timid and uncertain, she stayed behind Gaby’s legs. At times Gaby felt the little girl’s head on her butt. No matter how she tried to move, Malinal managed to stay tucked back behind her.

  Dacia, on the other hand, came to stand at her side, proud but defensive. She awaited rejection, Gaby knew, and the young girl’s stoicism shredded her heart.

  Putting an arm around Dacia and letting Mali nestle in as much as she wanted, Gaby announced them by saying, “Hey, Martha Stewart. Something sure smells good.”

  Bliss whirled around with a wide smile, saw the two girls, and went blank-faced. But not for long.

  Bliss was no dummy. Whatever misuse had plagued her at home, she kept it to herself and didn’t let it taint her open, giving nature.

  Until meeting Gaby, Bliss had long lived on the streets, and because of that, she had innate recognition of one of her own. Add to that her intuitive nature, and she was the perfect person to relate to the girls.

  God knew that regardless of Bliss’s past—or maybe because of it—she far exceeded Gaby in mothering qualifications.

  Drying her hands on the apron, Bliss came forward with a slight smile. “Good grief, Gaby. When you said three, I thought you meant three big eaters, not small fries.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Gaby told her. “I don’t think these two have had a real meal for a while. They might take even our share.”

  Both girls stood there frozen in place. Gaby couldn’t even detect their breathing. But then, Bliss did look something of an angel, with her soft, golden aura floating around her.

  Bliss reached out a hand to Dacia. “Hi. I’m Bliss. And you are?”

  “Dacia.” She took her hand and quickly released it. “My sister, Malinal, is hiding behind Gaby.”

&nb
sp; “Am not,” Malinal said, and stuck her head out just long enough to get a gander of Bliss. She tucked away again.

  Bliss grinned in very real delight. “I’m a new cook, so I hope I didn’t muck up anything. Grab a seat and I’ll pour us all some milk. We can get acquainted over the meal.”

  “I’m keeping them,” Gaby said.

  “Well, of course you are,” Bliss replied, as if it was expected. “You couldn’t do anything else.”

  Gaby blinked at her, then scowled. She was not a predictable person. Even Ann had said so.

  And she didn’t drag in strays. Except for Bliss, but that was different. Bliss was mostly grown and mostly able to care for herself.

  Kids . . . well, kids would need a lot of care. As Bliss said, she couldn’t leave them behind, but it stymied her, trying to think of all that would have to be done on a day-to-day basis.

  And Luther . . . What would he say? Would he—

  “I’ll help however I can.” Bliss set the food on the table. “And I know Mort will, too. We’ll have to figure out legal stuff. I mean, I know I had to dodge social workers to keep from getting sent back home.”

  “Or stuck in foster care.” Gaby nearly shuddered. She looked at Dacia and felt Mali squeezing in behind her, and she knew she wouldn’t let that happen. Good foster homes existed, she was sure of that, but she wouldn’t take the chance. The little girls deserved more.

  They deserved . . . love.

  Fuck. What did she know about love?

  Dacia looked from Bliss to Gaby. “We have no family searching for us. And I will not be separated from Malinal.”

  “No, you won’t,” Gaby assured her. “Come on, let’s grab a seat.”

  It was difficult for her to walk with Mali on her butt, but she managed to pry the little girl off and into a chair. Dacia scooted her chair closer to her sister’s. Beneath the table, they held hands.

  A lump of emotion, big as a melon, lodged in Gaby’s throat.

  She sought words to put them at ease. “So, ladies, Bliss is a good friend and a really terrific human being. And best of all, she’s been where you’re at, so she gets it, you know?”