with all of them as far as Eve was concerned. And the fate of the world rested, in part, in their hands. How scary was that? “Why are you telling me this?”
“I thought you would wish to know.”
“You haven’t told me much of anything yet.”
The blonde sighed. “Also, I thought perhaps we should join forces, too.”
“We? As in you and me?”
“Yes.” The word was said with exasperation, as if Eve was slow to catch on. “Richens has a purpose for why he wants his own group. If we could understand, it would be of use to us.”
“ ‘We’ as in me, right,” Eve murmured wryly, “since you turned him down?”
Izzie smiled, but it didn’t reach her blue eyes. “Right.”
“If you want to know what he’s up to, why didn’t you play along and find out?”
“Patience is difficult for me.” Izzie glanced aside with a slight smile, her short pigtails swaying in the damp evening air.
Eve wished she’d been a fan of the reality show Survivor. She might have picked up some tips about how to backstab, a skill she suspected her classmates had long ago mastered. “How old are you, Izzie?”
“Thirty. Why does that matter?”
Eve would have guessed that she was younger. She shrugged. “Just curious.”
“You don’t wish to know why I was marked?”
“Sure. Are you going to tell me?”
“No.” Izzie climbed the short steps to the front door and opened it. Her loosely laced Dr. Martens thudded onto the hardwood of the living room. Sydney brought up the rear, locking them inside the house while another guard kept watch outside. Four guards, two for each duplex.
The moon had drifted farther along in the sky, shining less light into the space and creating more shadows. Eve was suddenly exhausted and a giant yawn escaped her.
“Tell me why you are here,” Izzie said, kicking off her boots.
Eve headed down the hall to her room. “Not tonight, I have a headache.”
“We can help one another.”
Eve paused at her door. “How exactly are you going to help me?”
The blonde shrugged. “I will think of a way.”
“Don’t hurt yourself.” Stepping into her room, Eve shut the door and crawled into bed. She was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Festive tropical music poured from hidden speakers while a warm ocean draft gusted through the open French doors of Greater Adventures Yachts, the manufacturer of the multimillion-dollar boats that funded the Australian firm.
Reed feigned the appearance of examining the photos of various ships on the wall, but in truth, he didn’t see any of them. Instead, he saw the horror of the night before—the blood splattered over acacias and broken melaleuca trees, the wide circular depression in the wild grasses, the skin of Les’s Mark torn from the missing body. Caught on various twigs, the flesh flapped in the evening breeze as a macabre banner, taunting them with their helplessness.
What the hell were they dealing with?
“Are you all right?” Mariel asked from her position beside him.
“Not really, no.”
“If it’s any consolation, you’re good at what you do because you let the shit get to you.”
He managed a slight smile. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me.”
“Abel!”
Reed turned at the sound of the familiar, jovial voice. Uriel approached with his ever-ready wide grin and bright blue eyes. Sans shirt, the archangel sported only tropical shorts and flip-flops. His skin was tanned mahogany and the ends of his longish hair were bleached by the sun.
Bowing, Reed showed his respect and appreciation for the courtesy Uriel paid him by allowing him to investigate on Australian turf. As he straightened, the archangel clapped him on the shoulder.
“It is good to see you again,” Uriel said.
“And you as well.”
Uriel accepted Mariel’s extended hand and kissed her knuckles. “Let us go up to my office.”
They left the large waiting area and ascended a short flight of steps up to an expansive loft. A glass-topped, white wicker desk faced another set of open French doors. The stunning view of the beach beyond was a bit like the vista Eve’s condo enjoyed. However, the water in Huntington Beach was a dark bluish-gray. The water here was bluer. Beautiful. Reed found himself wishing Eve were here to see it.
Dropping into the chair behind the desk, Uriel said, “It is unfortunate that you are not here under more pleasant circumstances.”
Mariel took a seat.
Reed remained standing. He noted a small rack on a nearby console that held several bottles of wine. He crossed over to it and carefully lifted one, reading the brilliantly