LITMIR.BIZ

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evident when he snapped the folder closed a few moments later. “She’s a Hunter?”

      “The daughter of one.”

      “We’ve had a freaking Hunter on property for damn near a year and this is the first you’ve told me?”

      He rarely second-guessed himself, but one look at Gabe’s face had Rafe reconsidering. “I’ve been watching her.”

      “We could all have been watching her. Or better yet—” Gabe threw the folder on the desk. “We could have let her go on her merry freaking way and avoided hiring her in the first place.”

      “She’s good. Her installations alone have increased foot traffic by thirty percent.”

      Gabe stiffened up at that, straightening to his full height. “First the whales and now this? This place is our sanctuary. Have you forgotten that?”

      “I’ve forgotten nothing.”

      “Then how can you ignore the fact the woman’s dangerous? To us. Our way of life. Our people.”

      An image of that long, lithe form curled up inspecting the grass outside filled his head. Was she seeking proof? Attempting to set a trap? Or was it something else?

      Rafe hadn’t sensed malice in her. More, she had an aching vulnerability about her that called to some strange, empty place deep inside of him.

      Orphan.

      Emancipated minor.

      Workhorse.

      None of those images matched with the sullen, disillusioned cadre normally drafted into the Hunters’ midst. Chaos thrived on the weak-minded and the easily swayed.

      Evangeline Kennedy was neither.

      “We got the intel on the two men she fired yesterday.”

      Rafe knew his brother and there was no way he was dropping the subject of Evangeline anytime soon. But there was something underneath the comment that slashed through Rafe’s thoughts. “And?”

      “They’re Hunters. My team’s tracked them back to a flophouse on the outskirts of Henderson. I’m headed there tonight.”

      “I’ll join you.”

      “Save it. You need to keep your focus here.”

      “You won’t keep me out of this.”

      “Then get your damn head in the game. She comes from the line of people determined to expose us and slaughter us all.”

      “The Hunters are minions of Chaos. We’ve yet to narrow in on a leader. We’ve dealt with them before and we’ll deal with them again.”

      “He’s here. I can feel it. Know it. There’s been too much static lately. Too many close calls.” Gabe dropped onto the edge of Rafe’s desk. “Don’t tell me you can’t feel it?”

      Rafe shook his head, suddenly unwilling to put voice to the feeling. He understood Gabe’s point—had felt the same raw energy swirling around the casino and their people—but kept pushing against it, unwilling to act rashly.

      He was the methodical Stavros, while Gabe had their father’s brash, devil-may-care attitude in spades. They complemented each other—they always had—so why were they so far apart on this? Rash action threatened their secrets, but so did ignorance. And it was time he remembered that.

      Especially now that Evangeline had seen him take his true form.

      And, by all accounts, was determined to understand what it all meant.

      While she was still irritated at Rafe’s heavy-handed behavior, dragging her from the lawn and pushing her into a series of spa appointments, Evangeline had to admit the man had a point.

      A great point.

      If she could put together a coherent thought to remember just how great his point really was.

      Relaxation! That was it. He’d been on her, stressing the importance of taking some time for herself and not working too hard.

      Firm hands slid up and down her spine, kneading muscles and loosening knots she didn’t even know she had. The massage was the coup de grâce in an afternoon full of rest, relaxation and a significant amount of pampering. A facial. A manicure and pedicure. And some amazing thing with hot rocks that should have burned like crazy but instead, managed to loosen her muscles even more than they already were.

      Why didn’t she do this for herself?

      The question began as an abstract cloud, floating through her mind, but something about it stilled, expanding in her thoughts.

      Why didn’t she do this more often? She wasn’t poor any longer. Far from it, in fact. The Archangel paid her a generous salary for the work she did across the property. She didn’t live extravagantly, her one-bedroom apartment more than enough room for the amount of time she spent there. And working on-property gave her a discount on the spa services.

      So why not do this for herself?

      Instead, she hoarded her hard-earned income as if she were still shivering and cold, hoping her parents would stop fighting or—worse—praying for the noise when their apartment got so quiet she could hear her own breath. She’d huddle in those moments, her parents’ normally volatile state hushed by whatever drug her father had managed to score that day.

      “Miss Kennedy?”

      The soft voice pulled her from the dismal memories, the hand on her spine gentle. “Hmm?”

      “The treatment is complete. Feel free to stay and relax a bit longer. I’ve left some water on the counter.”

      “Thank you.”

      Hesitant to let the dreamy state end, Evangeline lay there a few more moments after the door clicked on a quiet close. Try as she might, she couldn’t fully bring back that delicious dream state. Instead, those memories of her parents peeked in, pressing against the edges of her memory with all the finesse of an attack dog.

      Her father’s addiction. Her mother’s equally helpless outlook on life. And the loss of both of them by the time she was seven.

      “Miss Kennedy.” The knock was soft, yet insistent and Evangeline sat up, pulling the sheet tight around herself.

      “Come in.”

      Madelina bustled in, her elegant form somehow softened in the muted light and calming music. Where she’d initially seen a militant effectiveness shining in the woman’s eyes before, Evangeline had to admit three hours of pampering had softened the edges of her vision. Madelina had gone from dragon to fairy godmother and she gave her a big smile. “Hello.”

      “It looks like my team did their job.”

      “They were wonderful.” Evangeline glanced down at her toes where her legs swung against the table. “I even have red toes.”

      “Enough to drive a man wild.”

      “I’m not… I mean.”

      Madelina patted her arm. “It’s always good to be prepared.”

      The woman seemed to understand she had nothing to say and bustled on. “Have you had your water?” When she eyed the glass still on the counter, she picked it up and marched it over. “It’s essential to hydrate. Drink up. Then you’ll come with me.”

      The cool water, tinged with the refreshing taste of cucumber, was fresh on her tongue as she drank.

      “You enjoyed the treatments?”

      “I did.” Evangeline set her glass of water down, abstractly wondering if she’d ever tasted anything so good.

      “Excellent. Because I’ve made a standing appointment for you monthly.”

      “I don’t—” Evangeline broke off, not sure why she was arguing. She’d had a similar thought

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