Gravity (52 page)

establishment, all bets were off. Sometimes juicers hung out there, looking for new Learners who

still hadn’t left their old life behind. Juicing was such a problem because Mage light was addictive,

like a drug. I had to periodically flare and release my energy in small bursts in case another Mage

was in the area. Christian stayed close behind as I made my way inside.

Novis hadn’t told me the name of the man I was meeting up with, nor had he told me what he

looked like. He’d handed me an envelope, suggesting that I pay close attention to what the man

said and did and trust my instincts. Well, it was all very James Bond, but I was so in.

As instructed, I sat at the bar wearing a red button-up blouse. I sized up the humans getting

their happy hour on and decided to order a bottle of weak beer. I tore pieces off the label, making

occasional checks on my surroundings.

“You should order a drink that has taste,” a deep and magnificent voice said. I turned to the

left and nearly tipped my bottle over.

Towering over me was the Chitah Overlord. He slipped his arm around my back and guided me

to a vacant booth, which was amusing to watch him fit in. He had to angle his body to stretch out

his legs beneath the table. Women stared at him like he was royalty; they couldn’t help it. His coal-

black hair and bright eyes were as magnetic as his height, and he had years of wisdom carved in

the small lines on his face and brow. His guards spaced apart, taking positions at key points in the

room.

“I wasn’t expecting it to be you,” I said. “Novis didn’t mention who I was meeting.”

He gave a hint of a smile and pulled a heavy black scarf away from his neck. His short hair had

a slight wave to it that reminded me of a classic style I’d seen in old movies. It wasn’t uncommon

for a Chitah to go out in public wearing contacts or sunglasses so they wouldn’t stand out. Logan

often kept his gaze low to the ground. The Overlord did none of the above, and these days with

special FX contacts, I didn’t think most people would think twice about it. How remarkably easy it

was for Chitahs to blend into the modern world compared to centuries past.

“If you did not expect me, then Novis kept his word. It is important that we keep our distance

and not show public signs of association. It creates too much… speculation. When we do speak on

matters of the utmost secrecy, we cannot afford to draw attention.”

“Is that why we’re in a human bar?”

He nodded very slowly.

“So how do you know there aren’t any Vampires here listening? You can’t smell a Vampire.”

“What a clever Mage, thinking outside the box. I always liked that expression. Colorful, isn’t it?”

“Guess I never thought much about it. I always liked ‘coloring outside the lines’ myself.”

He studied our busy surroundings and smiled enigmatically. The Overlord didn’t strike me as a

man who got out much, and if he did, he sure didn’t spend time lingering with the lower class. It

made him wildly fascinating.

“You are uninjured from the attack? I hope my guards were of some protection,” he ground

out, seemingly annoyed.

“Yes, no injuries to speak of. It could have been a whole lot worse if they hadn’t been there to

buffer the attack. Thank you, your Lordship, um, Overlor—Sir.”

He tucked his chin against his chest and laughed the way a man does to hide his amusement.

“Sire is what I’m usually addressed as. But between you and me,” he whispered, “I hate the

formalities. Please, call me Quaid.”

“Do you want a drink, Quaid?” That felt wrong. He was royalty and I was speaking to him like a

regular person.

“I believe it is the male who orders the drink for the female,” he pointed out.

“Did the female lose her voice?”

“No, but perhaps she lost her manners.”

I tapped my fingers on the table. “What’s so rude about being polite?”

Quaid stirred with laughter. “Now I know what the Chitah sees in the Mage.”

I glanced at the bartender near our table and pointed at my bottle, holding two fingers in the

air.

“He definitely bit off more than he can chew,” I remarked as the waitress sauntered over with

our refills.

“Mee-yow,” she said, looking Quaid over. “Let me know if I can bring you a big boy drink. I’m

Tina. Just yell out if you need anything, Stretch.” She winked and Quaid looked offended by the

casualness with which she openly hit on him. After setting our beers and a bowl of pretzels on the

table, Tina shook a tail feather and disappeared.

“That was rude,” I grumbled.

“How so?”

“She didn’t even presume that I might be your girlfriend.”

“Perhaps she did,” he said as he lifted the bottle, staring at it.

“Go on, Quaid, live a little. It won’t kill you, but it might put some hair on your chest.”

He wiped the lip of the bottle and risked a careful sip, cringing at the bitter flavor. “Fascinating.

You enjoy this?”

“Nope, but it passes the time.”

Quaid studied the bowl of pretzels before he lifted one and tasted it with his tongue.

“Tell me you’ve seen a pretzel before? You’re the Overlord. If I was in your position, I’d make

sure my pantry was stocked full of ice cream, chocolate bars, and those horrible cheese and

crackers with the little red stick.” I snorted into my bottle of beer as if I were having a conversation

with an old friend.

“I have staff to do the cooking, so there is no need for me to go out on such excursions. My

food is carefully prepared by a personal chef.”

“My chef’s name is Boyardee.” I snickered. Then I realized he didn’t get the joke so it made it

less funny. “In my humble opinion, I think you should go shopping one day and just throw a bunch

of food in your cart and taste the world. I’m telling you, if all they serve you is lamb chops and

roasted potatoes, you’re really missing out on the little things.”

“So I gather,” he said, crunching on his pretzel and grabbing another. “Interesting. Stale bread

seasoned with salt. So tell me, young Mage, what is it that you have for me?”

I reached inside my satchel and pulled out a manila envelope, sliding it to his side of the table.

He rubbed his fingers together, knocking off a few salt granules before reviewing the contents.

Several quiet moments passed as he read the paper, pulling pretzels to his mouth almost

involuntarily. Finally, he leaned back and tapped his finger on the bottle, eyeing me.

A Chitah’s gaze is terrifying; it’s more than a gaze, it’s a threat. If you dare to look deep

enough, you can almost see the savage animal within, prowling patiently and waiting for you to

rattle its cage. I lowered my eyes and felt my stomach do a somersault with a back handspring. My

hands trembled as I peeled the label from my beer and when the bottle tipped over, I quickly

grabbed it, only spilling a few drops. Maybe I had a record for spilling beer on laps, but this was

one person I didn’t want to end up on that long list of names.

“I thought a lot about what you said that night. You don’t resemble a Chitah; how is it that you

are half?”

I shrugged. “Kind of a long story on that,” I stated, deciding not to go into the details. “I’ve

never carried any physical characteristics of a Chitah, even in my human form.”

“Ah, but you weren’t so human, now were you?” His voice was thick and deep, leaving goose

bumps across my arm.

“Guess not.”

“Your employer does not bring me good news,” he said, tucking the paper in the envelope.

“The files were stolen?”

I sank into my chair.

“Extremists are difficult to control. This information tells me that there are Chitahs aiding in the

experimentation, either willingly or not.”

Aside from the Chitah DNA, someone had been supplying them with Chitah venom. Were they

holding one prisoner and using him for their experiments? I couldn’t imagine, as he would be

difficult to contain and control. Especially since some Chitahs had the ability to dreamwalk. Quaid

appeared to have more information in his hands than I knew about.

“I hope this doesn’t bring too much trouble for you,” I said. “I’m sure Novis has good reason for

telling you whatever is in the note.”

“You are correct. I do hate to cut our time short, but I must say that I have had a pleasant

evening with you, Silver. It is not very often that I sit and converse with a Mage.”

Taking that as my cue, I slid out of my seat. As I slung my purse over my shoulder, I caught a

glimpse of the Overlord dumping the bowl of pretzels into his coat pocket. I turned my smile away

to the crowd of drinkers, pretending to fumble for my keys.

“Do you have a driver?”

“No, I drove. Is there a message you want me to deliver to Novis?”

We moved toward the door and Quaid slipped his arm around my shoulder, guiding me through

the crowd. Heads turned, watching a man who was at least a foot taller than me part the crowd

like a superstar. His guards fell into place by the time we were outside, and he tipped his hand,

signaling for them to stay back.

“Please tell Novis that his gesture in sharing information is one I will not forget. We have never

been allies, but we have made progress with small steps to build trust between us. Regardless of

what I have learned, it is not information that I can share publicly, therefore my hands remain tied

when it comes to legal matters. Do drive safe, and my gratitude for the beer.” He smiled warmly as

his fingers fished in his pocket.

There was an awkward moment when I thought I was supposed to do something, so I bowed

a little and said, “Sire.”

Quaid spun around without a word and an army of men escorted him to his car.

***

Page nervously wrung her cold hands together as she sat in her car, staring down a paved

walkway that led into the city park. She thought about how leaving Justus might have been the

hardest thing she’d done, but it was the right thing to do. It would be unfair to drag him into her

messy life. It wouldn’t take long for a man like him to move on. It’s not as if they were in a

relationship, and he had every woman at his disposal.

The day after she had gone home, a delivery arrived at her doorstep. Justus had sent her a

gold bracelet, and Page had to send it back without explanation. He shouldn’t have spent so much

on her. The most romantic thing he’d done was wipe her forehead when she was sick.

People just didn’t click with her on a personal level because outside of work, she was a very

private person. But at the end of the day, Page was just a girl who loved to curl up in her chair

and enjoy watching the rain, working crossword puzzles, and dabbling a little at knitting. It was

something her grandmother had done very well and Page tried to keep her spirit alive, even

though she wasn’t any good at it. She worked in a servitude position, and that was a humbling job

to have. Her own needs were often put aside to help others. But what a great feeling it was at the

end of the day to know she made a difference.

Justus seemed to get who she was, but they barely knew each other and this was for the best.

It brought a small measure of comfort to have the memory of their time together. Maybe having a

small piece of something wonderful is better than having it all, only to watch it crumble into a

regretful ending.

The more time that he’d spent with her, the more she noticed him letting his guard down and

revealing the compassionate man he truly was. In the end, they would have been incompatible.

Better to not get attached to a man who would get bored with her and move on to the next

woman.

Page had contacted Novis to request permission to have Slater’s memory temporarily restored.

It was regretful they had completed their questioning so soon without allowing her to provide any

input.

“You realize the danger of this?” Christian asked from the passenger seat of her car.

“It shouldn’t have been done so soon, Christian. Not without knowing the right things to ask.

Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here? Away from Silver, I mean.”

“Novis has relieved me of my duties for one evening while she’s in Logan’s care.” He arched his

back around the seat to face her but she caught his black eyes drifting behind the car. “Consider

me a loaner. Are you ready?”

Page nodded and they got out of the car, scaring a rabbit who hopped across the pathway and

disappeared under a bush. The humidity created orange halos around the street lamps and they

walked down a trail until they caught sight of a wooden bench with a man sitting on it. Her heart

raced and Christian gripped her arm.

“The Mage assigned to keep an eye on Slater dropped him off, so we’re alone.

“Mage?” she asked.

“The ones given a clean slate have to be watched. They tend to wander,” he said, tapping a

finger against his head. “Years ago, many committed suicide because of the gaps in their memory.

Over the years, we’ve improved our techniques by implanting false memories so that they can go

about living a regular routine. Slater thinks his name is Joseph and that he’s been working in a