Gabriel's Mate
Page 70
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There was a glint of hope in Gabriel’s gaze now, and something inside Yvette shriveled. She wasn’t a bad person, just a misguided one. All these years she’d hoped for Gabriel to turn to her for more than just friendship, yet he was right: he’d never given her any reason to believe he was interested in her. She’d been the one imagining it. Because she’d been lonely. How pathetic was that?
She was better than that, stronger. “I’ll help you find her.”
“You will?” Gabriel took a step toward her and opened his arms in an awkward attempt to embrace her, emotion clearly overwhelming him.
Yvette pulled back. “No hugs.”
He dropped his arms and lowered his lids, looking embarrassed by his exuberance and her rejection, but at the same time relieved. “Thank you.”
“She’s headed south.”
Gabriel blinked. “Her apartment in Noe Valley. Let’s go.” He looked to the door than back at her. “Is that your dog?”
Yvette turned. On the threshold, the dog who’d been following her for the last few blocks sat waiting patiently. Before him, it had been a different dog. And before that, a cat. “I have no idea why every damn cat and dog in this town keeps following me. It’s like I’ve turned into some goddamn dog whisperer or something.” She motioned to the dog. “Shoo!” She didn’t even like animals.
“I think he likes you.”
She sniffed and was about to retort when a whiff of something entirely disagreeable caught in her nostrils. Within a blink of an eye, she swiveled and looked up at the stairs, where a woman she’d never seen before stood. “What the hell is a witch doing in Samson’s house?”
***
Maya put the Audi in park and switched off the ignition. As she stepped out of the car and into the night, she took in her surroundings. Never before had she been so aware of her senses. At the end of the residential street, a neighbor walked his little white Westie. When she concentrated, she could hear the clutter of dishes in a kitchen nearby. The news blared from a TV in a house across the street.
She’d never noticed these noises before and had always thought of Paulette’s neighborhood as eerily quiet. It wasn’t—not anymore anyway. With her enhanced senses, she could hear that life was happening inside the little houses dotted along the hill. From her vantage point, she could see the ocean or could have seen it if it weren’t for the fog hanging out at the beach.
Midtown Terrace was a middle-class neighborhood, the houses all built in the late 50s, their floor plans all essentially the same with a few variations. Paulette’s house was no different: three bedrooms and one bathroom over a two-car garage. A small yard out the back. Maya had spent many an evening here with Paulette and their friend Barbara, drinking, eating, joking, and ultimately bitching about the horrible dates they’d had. Just like all girlfriends did.
Maya hesitated as she approached the front door, stopping at the foot of the terrazzo steps. Would she look any different to Paulette? When Maya hugged her, would she crush her with her superior strength just like she’d smashed the little night table in Samson’s house? Maybe it was best not to hug her. Safer for Paulette.
She lifted her foot and set it on the first step. There was a chill in the night air, but Maya didn’t feel cold. Her vampire body seemed to protect itself from the cold despite the fact she’d forgotten to don a jacket. And in June in San Francisco you needed a jacket—a thick one. Clearly, there were some advantages to being a vampire. Maybe one day she’d truly accept that and make the best of it.
Would Paulette freak if she found out what she was now? Would she even believe it? They had always played pranks on each other. It was their way of showing friendship, and so Paulette would think that she was joking. She’d then have to prove what she was. And she’d have to do it without frightening her best friend.
She didn’t want to frighten anybody.
Maya took a deep breath to give herself the courage to walk up the steps and face her friend. Something stung her nostrils. Her stomach flipped. She’d only ever had that same feeling of disgust when she’d tried to drink the bottled human blood. A thought raced through her mind, one she didn’t want to acknowledge.
Her heart pounded as she ran up the stairs and reached for the doorbell. But she didn’t ring it. She didn’t have to—the front door was ajar.
Even though the neighborhood was a safe and quiet one, nobody ever left their door open. Nobody. Certainly not Paulette.
She pushed the door fully open. A bout of nausea overwhelmed her as she inhaled.
She was better than that, stronger. “I’ll help you find her.”
“You will?” Gabriel took a step toward her and opened his arms in an awkward attempt to embrace her, emotion clearly overwhelming him.
Yvette pulled back. “No hugs.”
He dropped his arms and lowered his lids, looking embarrassed by his exuberance and her rejection, but at the same time relieved. “Thank you.”
“She’s headed south.”
Gabriel blinked. “Her apartment in Noe Valley. Let’s go.” He looked to the door than back at her. “Is that your dog?”
Yvette turned. On the threshold, the dog who’d been following her for the last few blocks sat waiting patiently. Before him, it had been a different dog. And before that, a cat. “I have no idea why every damn cat and dog in this town keeps following me. It’s like I’ve turned into some goddamn dog whisperer or something.” She motioned to the dog. “Shoo!” She didn’t even like animals.
“I think he likes you.”
She sniffed and was about to retort when a whiff of something entirely disagreeable caught in her nostrils. Within a blink of an eye, she swiveled and looked up at the stairs, where a woman she’d never seen before stood. “What the hell is a witch doing in Samson’s house?”
***
Maya put the Audi in park and switched off the ignition. As she stepped out of the car and into the night, she took in her surroundings. Never before had she been so aware of her senses. At the end of the residential street, a neighbor walked his little white Westie. When she concentrated, she could hear the clutter of dishes in a kitchen nearby. The news blared from a TV in a house across the street.
She’d never noticed these noises before and had always thought of Paulette’s neighborhood as eerily quiet. It wasn’t—not anymore anyway. With her enhanced senses, she could hear that life was happening inside the little houses dotted along the hill. From her vantage point, she could see the ocean or could have seen it if it weren’t for the fog hanging out at the beach.
Midtown Terrace was a middle-class neighborhood, the houses all built in the late 50s, their floor plans all essentially the same with a few variations. Paulette’s house was no different: three bedrooms and one bathroom over a two-car garage. A small yard out the back. Maya had spent many an evening here with Paulette and their friend Barbara, drinking, eating, joking, and ultimately bitching about the horrible dates they’d had. Just like all girlfriends did.
Maya hesitated as she approached the front door, stopping at the foot of the terrazzo steps. Would she look any different to Paulette? When Maya hugged her, would she crush her with her superior strength just like she’d smashed the little night table in Samson’s house? Maybe it was best not to hug her. Safer for Paulette.
She lifted her foot and set it on the first step. There was a chill in the night air, but Maya didn’t feel cold. Her vampire body seemed to protect itself from the cold despite the fact she’d forgotten to don a jacket. And in June in San Francisco you needed a jacket—a thick one. Clearly, there were some advantages to being a vampire. Maybe one day she’d truly accept that and make the best of it.
Would Paulette freak if she found out what she was now? Would she even believe it? They had always played pranks on each other. It was their way of showing friendship, and so Paulette would think that she was joking. She’d then have to prove what she was. And she’d have to do it without frightening her best friend.
She didn’t want to frighten anybody.
Maya took a deep breath to give herself the courage to walk up the steps and face her friend. Something stung her nostrils. Her stomach flipped. She’d only ever had that same feeling of disgust when she’d tried to drink the bottled human blood. A thought raced through her mind, one she didn’t want to acknowledge.
Her heart pounded as she ran up the stairs and reached for the doorbell. But she didn’t ring it. She didn’t have to—the front door was ajar.
Even though the neighborhood was a safe and quiet one, nobody ever left their door open. Nobody. Certainly not Paulette.
She pushed the door fully open. A bout of nausea overwhelmed her as she inhaled.
