His smile widened, lending warmth to his angular features. "Hawks don't scare as easily as budgies."
Didn't scare at all, from what she'd seen. In the brief time they'd known each other, they'd been shot at, bombed, even gassed. The only time she'd seen the slightest hint of fear in Gabriel's eyes was when his brother Stephan had gone missing in the SIU explosion. Family mattered more than personal safety, it seemed.
His viaphone buzzed into the brief silence. He gave her an apologetic look, though why she wasn't entirely sure, then quickly answered it. The warmth lingering on his face quickly disappeared.
"What?" she said, the minute he hung up.
His expression was grim as he glanced at her. "It would seem our serial killer has just thrown out her schedule."
Chapter Four
Gabriel leaned sideways and banged on the communications hatch. The small door opened, and light flooded in. Sam hissed.
"Change of direction. Head for Two-Eighty Elizabeth Street."
The ambulance driver nodded, and the hatch closed, encasing them in darkness again.
"Who are you dumping me on?"
Though her voice was even, her underlying anger was something he could almost taste. She was so pale she looked like death, and the thought chilled him. He didn't want to lose another partner, but he almost had, yet again. "What makes you think I'm dumping you?"
"Well, gee, maybe because you've used any and all excuses to keep me away from everything except paperwork."
"I've done it for your own safety."
"Yeah, right. Tell that to someone who hasn't spent ten years with the State Police."
"And the mess you made interviewing Max proved just how capable you are, didn't it?"
It wasn't a fair statement — had their positions been reversed, he doubted if he'd have coped any better. And the Jadrone would definitely have killed him.
Her hands clenched briefly by her sides. It was the only sign of the fury he could almost touch. "One of these days you're going to have to trust me."
"I do." With both his and his brother's lives. He just didn't trust fate.
Not that he had much choice in the matter at this particular moment. As much as he did want to loose her, he actually couldn't. There were only two people he'd trust with her safety — Karl was still on vacation with the family, and Stephan had a series of high-level meetings to attend.
"Then start acting like you do. Stop giving me inane tasks, and start giving me some real work." She raised a hand, as if to stop his answer, then closed her eyes and leaned back against the ambulance wall. "You know, it doesn't matter. Forget about it."
He watched a trickle of sweat roll down her pale cheek. "Sam, Two-Eighty Elizabeth Street is where the murder happened."
She opened her eyes, and her smoky-blue gaze swept him from head to foot. Then a slightly bitter smile touched her lips. "You can't dump me. You haven't got anyone you trust to watch over me."
She was altogether too perceptive. "Are you sure you're up to this?"
"I think the question should be are you sure I'm up to this."
"Well, it wouldn't be a good idea to puke all over the evidence," he said, half in jest.
Her gaze narrowed. "I won't puke. I won't even comment, if that's what you prefer."
He grimaced. It was times like these, when all the laughter, all the warmth, had died from her face that he really regretted what he had to do. Stephan was right — they did work well together. But two people had died simply because they'd had the ill fortune to be his partner. She would not be the third.
The ambulance jolted to a stop. She winced.
"Watch your eyes," he said, then opened the door.
The light flooded in, and though she made no sound, her eyes were little more than slits through which he could see the glimmer of tears. He climbed out and then held out a hand. After a slight hesitation, she accepted it and got out.