me if I would have dinner with him. I agreed easily, glad for an opportunity to spend a little time alone with the man who had changed my life so greatly. I walked into the main area of the Council’s offices chatting with Aidan about the full moon arriving the next evening.
“Will you be going out?” I asked.
“Oh, yes,” he said, his delight obvious. “I shall go for a long run in the park.”
Suddenly I had an image of myself galloping across the forest the night Elsa had given me peyote. “I highly recommend it,” I said giggling. “A good run in the middle of the night can be very satisfying.”
After saying goodnight to Aidan, I waited while Gabriel walked away to fetch his coat. As is my habit, I started to scan the area, watching what other people were up to. One corner of the room caught my attention. It was at the far end of the main hall, where Nikola Pajović kept his office. The door to his private quarters was closed, but outside, seated next to the door, was an olive complexioned man vibrating with anxiety. Broadly built, he had the body of a soldier or a bouncer at a nightclub. His hair had been shaved, so only dark black stubble remained. It matched his beard, which was also closely shorn.
A prominent red outline hovered around him. His energy was all wrong: dark and full of anger. He wasn’t human, either. Knowing the company Nikola kept, I suspected he was a werewolf. It would certainly explain the dark hair and skin. Whatever he was, whatever his intentions, he didn’t like being left outside in the hallway. The minute Nikola opened the door the man jumped up and disappeared inside.
Nikola’s door slammed shut at the same moment Gabriel arrived and escorted me out of the building.
“An odd man just walked into Nikola’s office,” I said. “His aura was dark, very damaged.”
“Nikola often keeps grim company,” Gabriel said. “It’s a function of his time in the Balkan Wars. A lot of his associates are veterans. Serbs, I think. As a rule, they’re very reticent people.”
A black BMW sedan was waiting for us at the curb outside in front of the museum. Gabriel greeted his driver warmly as the man stepped out of the car and came around to open the door for the two of us.
“I am old-fashioned and prefer to let someone else do the driving. I hope you don’t find it too ostentatious.”
I laughed. “I don’t mind at all,” I said. “My mother also likes to use a car service, but with her I think it’s safer for everyone if she doesn’t operate a vehicle. She gets too distracted to watch the road.”
“Too distracted?” Gabriel repeated.
“Oh, yes,” I said. “She can never look at the scenery as a driver, she has to look as an artist, which is not very safe for anyone. By the way,” I asked, changing the discussion abruptly. “Where are we going for dinner?”
“You must know that to a Frenchman this is a question of paramount importance and must be considered carefully,” he said, a faux graveness in his voice.
“Oui, monsieur,” I said, my hand over heart. “Mais j’ai très faim!”
I could tell our banter delighted him, a thought I said very clearly to myself.
“I am delighted,” he said, “It’s a pleasure to meet someone who enjoys the French language and culture.”
Our exchange reminded me that for some reason both he and William seemed to read my thoughts very clearly. I made a note to ask him about it later.
“I was thinking we would have dinner at an old favorite of mine called Bix,” Gabriel said. “Do you know it?”
Anyone involved in San Francisco politics knows Bix, a former speakeasy located on the lower lip of North Beach. It is a quintessential San Francisco watering hole that attracts the high-flying set. Once, while dining there, I had been asked to move from my table to make room for the actor Sean Penn.
I nodded back, replying in mock seriousness, “C’est très cher!”
“Olivia,” Gabriel said, his dramatic voice returning, “How can you put a price on a good meal?”
After a few minutes, we arrived at the restaurant and I allowed him to lead the way as we walked inside. I assumed two things as we entered the ornate dining room: first, that Gabriel knew the owners, and second, that he must have called ahead, because he managed to walk in at 8:30 and secure a