The kid looked like she was going to puke.
No, not kid, Gabriel corrected mentally. Moonshine was a lot of things, but she was not a kid anymore.
The scrawny girl who used to follow him around Section 8 like an overeager pet was a far cry from the woman he’d picked up at the airport this afternoon. And the difference was seriously fucking with his concentration as he tried to listen to her recount her vision.
Not that he wasn’t taking what she’d seen seriously. He was. He knew better than to ever doubt a psychic—especially one in her family.
But she was here now, and there was no way anyone—himself included—was going to let anything happen to her. So, the danger of her vision of fiery death coming true was slim to nil, in his opinion.
His real problem, he decided, was that she was too damn pretty. Even when she was thirteen, it’d been obvious that Adrianne Riddick was going to one day be a great beauty. The promise of it had always been there, but back then, her mouth was a touch too wide, her chin a bit too pointy, and her eyes a little too wide set to be considered conventionally attractive. Today, though?
She’d grown into her beauty in a big, distracting, confusing way.
Confusing for Gabriel, of course, not for anyone else. Because he could no longer look at her and see the young woman who’d once kissed him and professed her love. It’d been easy to remind that young woman that she had way too much living to do before she should ever consider giving her heart—and her innocence—away.
And she never should’ve considered giving either to an asshole like him.
But if the Adrianne he was looking at now kissed him? He was fairly certain it would end differently—for both of them.
Then her father would eviscerate him and choke him to death with his own intestines and that would be the end of that nonsense.
Gabriel couldn’t say he’d blame him, either. He probably deserved to be strangled with his own intestines for the thoughts he was having about the woman sitting in front of him right now.
She did everything she could to hide her shine. Always had. Adrianne still dyed her blonde hair black and let the thick mass of waves fall forward to cover her face when she was nervous or embarrassed. Her wardrobe was still black-on-black, just like her fingernails. He’d bet her toenails matched. They always used to.
And still, to him, she was the brightest light in the room. It wasn’t just her beauty, either. It was her spirit. She’d always been kind. Tenderhearted. So smart and talented he just knew, even when she was a moody teenager, that she’d do great things with her life.
The visions she was saddled with were a curse for someone who felt things as intensely as Adrianne did. He’d been so happy for her when she’d figured out how to block them.
And now, here she was, neck-deep right back in the life he’d never wanted for her. The life she never wanted for herself, either. She deserved so much better.
Adrianne didn’t belong here amongst demons and demon hunters. She should be playing piano in some elegant concert hall in front of a huge audience, with a handsome husband waiting for her in the wings.
It didn’t escape his attention that he suddenly wanted to pummel this fictional husband for daring to lay a hand on Adrianne.
Gabriel rolled his head around on his neck, hoping to ease the tension that had settled there. He needed to feed. That was the problem. He’d gone too long without taking in the energy of another living being. Once he’d fed, these ridiculous, over-protective, possessive feelings he was having for Adrianne would go away.
That was his story, and he was sticking to it.
From her place at the head of the conference room table, Harper rubbed her temples, frowning severely. “What you’re describing doesn’t make sense to me. The only way a rift can open is if a magical misfit is born. There aren’t any magical misfits brewing at the moment. I’d know if there were.”
Misfits of magic were what Section called children born to dhampyres and humans with magical abilities somewhere in their bloodlines. In areas of the world where the veil between the hell dimension and the human dimension was already thin, tears could occur at the moment a misfit of magic is born. Demons could cross through such a rift if they were lucky enough to stumble across it. That’s how Gabriel got here.
Adrianne bit down on her plump lower lip, forcing Gabriel to swallow a groan. For an irrational second, he’d wanted to bite down on that lower lip of hers.
That settled it. He was feeding tonight.
“I’m sure I saw a rift open,” Adrianne said. “But I have no idea when.”
Benny frowned. “That’s helpful. And by helpful I mean not in any way at all.”
Gabriel was nearly overcome with the urge to throw a fireball at the halfer’s head. His stupid snark wasn’t going to make Adrianne feel any better. It wasn’t going to help them figure this all out, either.
“Did you see the demon who came through the rift?” Riddick asked.
The one who burned you alive in your vision went unsaid. Gabriel was sure Riddick wasn’t even allowing himself to think of that, let alone say it out loud.
She nodded. “Only for a split second. Dark hair, about six-two, maybe one-eighty, kinda muscle-y.”
Benny blinked at her. “So, like, every demon we’ve seen so far for the past eleven-ish years?”
Gabriel growled and made a move towards Benny, but Harper shot him a sharp look and shook her head. He backed down, because Harper was technically his boss. But he wasn’t happy about it.
Adrianne didn’t seem offended by Benny’s question, though, as she shot him a sheepish smile. “Not very helpful, I realize. But…there’s more. I also got the feeling that the rift wasn’t opened from this side.”
Well, that got Gabriel’s full attention. “Are you saying the demon opened the rift himself from the hell dimension?”
Her gaze flew to his. “Yes. You believe me? I was sure you were going to say I was wrong. That it wasn’t possible.”
Riddick leaned forward in his chair and gave Gabriel a pointed look. “Yeah, me, too, because you said the rifts were one-way. That they had to open from this side, not that one.”
Gabriel raised a brow at him. “No, I said I couldn’t open a rift. And neither could any of the other demons that have stepped through a rift in the past decade. The rifts that have occurred since you took over Section have all originated on this side of the veil. Caused by the misfits. But…there are some—very few—demons on the other side of the veil who can open a rift into this dimension.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Benny said, eyes going comically wide. “Why the fuck is this the first we’re hearing of this? And why wouldn’t all the demons who had that power just cross over here to begin with?”
Gabriel sighed. “Like I said, there are very few demons who have that power. And you forget—your dimension isn’t the only one. Other demons who can open rifts might’ve chosen to travel into other dimensions. I didn’t think the logistics of all that were ever worth explaining before. It’s not like we can police other dimensions or stop anyone from opening a rift into this dimension.”
Harper frowned at him. “I’m a big fan of the ‘tell Harper everything’ policy I put in place eleven years ago. This all seems to fly in the face of that policy. Gotta tell you, not a fan, sparky.”
“Me neither,” Riddick grumbled. “Especially not when it’s my kid that gets stuck with the horrifying visions of it.”
Gabriel felt that criticism like a punch to the gut. He never thought keeping information to himself would jeopardize Adrianne—or anyone else in Section—in any way. He glanced over at her. “I’m sorry, Moonshine,” he said quietly.
Her eyes fell to his lips, then shot back up to his face. It’d only been a split second, but Gabriel felt it. “It’s OK,” she whispered back.
It wasn’t, though. None of this was OK.
Because the type of demons he knew who could open rifts weren’t the type he’d ever want to go against.
Not again, anyway.