Shadow WIngs (Skeleton Key) (21 page)

That, and food... although the second thing only occurred to her after her stomach growled loudly enough for Raguel to look over, startled.

She had chosen the luxury hotel in part because she knew exactly where the listening devices would be located, including the one on the phone.

She had no doubt her apartment was bugged by now as well, but she would be less likely to find all of those. Showing up at a hotel and paying cash with one of her emergency aliases in her pocket felt much safer. She and Raguel left her car in the parking lot of another enormous apartment complex, this one in walking distance to a train station on a different line as the hotel. They’d changed trains twice, then walked to the hotel itself, carrying two bags of clothes and the files and tapes from the Golunsky case between them.

All in all, the operation took more than two hours.

Now, she just wanted to shower.

And apparently, from the noises her stomach was making––eat.

She flushed at the puzzled look Raguel aimed at her mid-section when her stomach growled loudly again, even as it struck her that neither she nor the angel had eaten that day, and the sky had been dark for over an hour now. That also explained how she felt light-headed, and probably at least part of why she was so exhausted and short-tempered.

Of course, her emotions right then weren’t only from a lack of food.

She checked her watch at the thought, exhaling.

Nearly seven o’clock.

Being in such a nice hotel, they could order room service at least. They’d used Raguel’s new alias to book the room itself, since Ilana knew Karkoff might look for female names. She wanted to save her own emergency alias in case they had to run for real.

Unlocking the door to their room, she gave Raguel a tired smile.

“I call the shower first this time,” she said. “I will order us food before I go in. It should arrive by the time you finish taking your turn.”

She saw something in his eyes soften before he nodded.

“Of course, Ilana.”

Hanging her coat in the closet by the door and pulling off her boots one by one before throwing them in that same closet, she watched Raguel as he dropped their bags of clothes on the floor not far from the television set and bureau. Seeing the unsure expression on his face, she motioned towards the couch and the bed.

“Make yourself at home, comrade angel,” she grunted. “We might as well enjoy our night of luxury,
da?”

She saw him staring at the king-sized bed for a few seconds too long, but pretended not to notice.

It was of course less conspicuous to check in as a couple. She’d had Raguel hide in the back of her car when she went back to her apartment building, so they wouldn’t be looking for her with someone else, or vice versa. She’d brought the clothes and files down herself, not letting him show himself until they left the car for the train station.

Plunking down on the bed with a sigh, she picked up the phone and ordered them food, along with wine for herself. She only noticed the mini-fridge nestled under the bureau after she hung up. Grunting when she saw that it contained water, juice and vodka, along with some chocolate, she contemplated the chocolate briefly then shut the door and headed for the bathroom instead.

Raguel was still standing in the middle of the room. He still wore his winter coat even, but she didn’t offer to help him put it away.

He would have to find his own way to feel comfortable here.

Inside the luxurious bathroom, she cranked up the hot water, marveling at the water pressure. When steam began to fill the small room, she exhaled in relief and began peeling off her clothes. Stepping into the stream of hot water felt so good, she could only sigh again, dunking her head under the shower head––and thinking maybe she did not indulge herself in luxury like this often enough.

She almost felt human again when she finally turned the water off.

Opening the door to the glass shower cubicle, she squeezed out her hair, then leaned out of the stall, grabbing a fluffy white towel off the rack.

When she did, she found Raguel standing in the doorway, watching her.

“Sooka sin!”
she swore, snatching the towel and pulling it to her chest. She stared up at his face and saw him avert his eyes, right before he folded his arms. “You scared the hell out of me, Raguel! Why did not you say something?”

He looked over, discomfort etched in his white marble features.
 

“I am sorry,” he said. “I was considering joining you in there, but I could not decide. You seemed so peaceful, like the water relaxed you... but you also seem upset. You have seemed upset since we left the mental hospital.” He met her gaze when she finished wrapping the towel around her body. “...I could not decide if you truly wanted to be left alone, or if you would have preferred some kind of comfort. I know you must be upset about Karkoff. I know he is a friend to you... almost like a father, since your own father died.”

She stared at him, unable to come up with words to respond.

“...As an angel, I would have known which it was.” He sounded almost apologetic. “I would have known whether you truly wanted to be alone or if you desired another’s presence. But I know humans often do not express things they are feeling. Humans sometimes lie... for reasons I don’t always understand. So...”

He trailed once more, waving a hand, as if at a loss.

“...I could not decide,” he finished lamely.

For some reason, Ilana found herself fighting a smile.

Then, as she thought about his words, her smile faded. She made up her mind before she’d fully let herself think about what it meant. Walking up to him, she wrapped her arms around his waist as soon as she was close enough.

Raguel didn’t flinch back, or even seem startled.

If anything, he seemed relieved.

Whatever he was feeling, he enveloped her, not moving from where he stood in the bathroom doorway by the marble-topped sink. When he curled his strong arms around her back and waist, she felt her body melt into his. He only gripped her tighter then, holding her with both hands as he pulled her tightly up against him.

Leaning her head against his chest, she closed her eyes.

She let herself just be there with him for those few seconds, her mind blank.

They stood there for a few minutes before she felt that tension start to drain out of her for real. As it did, reality took over once more.

“This will not end well for me, Raguel,” she said, looking up at him. “And it will not end well for you, if you stay here with me. You really should go.”

He shook his head, but didn’t scowl that time. “We will not talk about that now.”

Loosening his hold on her, he looked towards the shower stall.

“I am going to shower now.” He paused, meeting her gaze with those smoky crystal eyes. “You are welcome to come in with me, Ilana. I would like that very much.”

Blushing at the added meaning in his words, she thought about his offer.

Then, slowly, she shook her head.

“No.” She looked up, giving him a wry smile. “It is a tempting offer, comrade Archangel. But we have food coming... and whatever might happen if I joined you in that shower, I suspect it would take longer than the hotel kitchen...”

Raguel laughed.

The sound startled her but also made her smile.

Still smiling, she added somewhat more seriously, “And I still very much want to listen to that recording of the interview with Golunsky... possibly while I drink generous amounts of vodka and think about my own mortality.” She looked up, studying his storm-cloud gray eyes. “We can talk about anything else after we manage those two things,
da?
But you are human now, Raguel... as am I. Humans must eat.”

“And drink vodka?” he said, quirking an eyebrow.

She laughed herself that time, pulling the rest of the way out of his embrace. Rubbing him affectionately on the chest through the thermal shirt, she shook her head.

“I think we will wait a bit longer before introducing you to that particular Russian pastime, my angelic friend. I have enough to answer to with God already.”

Raguel laughed at that, too.

Something about that laugh, which sounded so genuine, so open, forced Ilana to smile again.

OUT OF THE WAY

ILANA DISMANTLED ALL of the listening devices in the room after she got dressed, then did a second sweep just to be sure. She heard the shower turn off in the other room right as she found her copy of the taped interview in her shoulder bag.

Room service knocked on their door then.

They wheeled in a cart loaded with covered plates, along with roses in a vase and two thin-stemmed wine glasses and a bottle of French red wine.

She instructed them to set everything up on the coffee table by the couch, then dug out her tape player after they left, thankful she’d remembered to grab that from her apartment prior to leaving. She’d just finished setting up the recorder on the carpet next to the coffee table, when Raguel emerged from the bathroom, trailed by a cloud of steam.

He wore a different set of clothes than the ones she’d given him that morning––a pair of black pants and a royal blue long-sleeved shirt. Since she’d packed more of Uri’s clothes from the box in her apartment and left them inside the bathroom door for Raguel to use, she wasn’t surprised to see him wearing them.

She couldn’t help staring, however, at how good he looked.

Looking away abruptly when he noticed her stare, she walked back to the couch and sat.

She’d done her best to make the hotel room comfortable, turning on the heater and switching on a few of the more inviting lamps before turning off the overhead. She found some extra blankets and a few pillows for the couch before setting out the covered plates of food.

Now she poured herself a half-glass of wine, relaxing into the couch with a sigh. She would leave the mini-fridge vodka and chocolate for later, perhaps.

For now, she preferred to leave her mind reasonably sharp.

She was taking the covers off their plates of beef goulash with gravy and potatoes and bread, when the sound of Obnizov’s voice rose from the other side of the couch, near where Raguel now sat beside her.

She turned to see Raguel bent over the tape recorder.

He’d turned it on.

Biting her lip, she considered telling him to wait until they had eaten first. Then, realizing he was probably right not to wait, she turned back to her food after placing the plate covers back on the rolling cart. She started to eat her goulash while the tape recorder continued to spin.

The first twenty or so minutes was mostly silence.

That silence was peppered with periodic questions from the homicide detective, Obnizov, but no one else on the tape made a sound. Golunsky himself gave no answer, despite the detective’s threats. Ilana didn’t speak during any of that initial questioning, either.

She remembered that part of the interview, however.

Then, out of nowhere, Golunsky began speaking to someone else.

“Worried about your pet, Raguel...?”

Golunsky’s words came out loud on the tape, louder than the detective’s had.

Just like she had in the room that morning, Ilana flinched, right as she was lifting another forkful of the beef goulash to her mouth. Finishing the motion and chewing the piece of meat, she swallowed it, taking another sip of the red wine as she listened to the demon speak.