Gravity (5 page)

practical haircut for a woman who didn’t like fussing over her appearance. Page had feminine

features with delicate hands, and an elfin smile that reminded me of Finn.

“I might enjoy that, Silver. Sounds like fun.”

Chapter 3

It was refreshing to have another woman around the house. Besides Sunny, I didn’t really talk

to many women as most of them latched on to my Ghuardian like Velcro.

Page spent the morning having consultations with her clients. Justus set up the webcam in the

study so she could have virtual meetings. He disappeared for hours in a private room to work, and

there must have been progress since he came out at one point with victory splashed on his face.

By afternoon, I’d heated up some soup and delivered Page her third cup of coffee. Once in a

while, I passed by the room and saw her nose in a book. For reading, she wore a fashionable pair

of black-framed, rectangular glasses. Strange to think I’d never have to worry about failing vision,

suspicious moles, or the million other things average people dealt with over the course of their

lives.

I lazily collapsed on the sofa, watching the snow on surveillance before flipping it to the

aquarium screensaver. Large monitors covered the wall on the left, and while each ran

independently, they could also produce a single image. When I realized that we could watch

movies on them, I had paid a visit to the store and grabbed a bunch of random titles. Watching

period pieces with Justus was painful because he’d always remark, “That’s not how it really was.”

He hated modern comedies and tolerated some of the action films. But I caught him standing in a

quiet corner by the hall whenever I put on Sense and Sensibility, Braveheart, or something with

amazing cinematography.

Justus shoveled snow for hours before coming back inside. He showered and changed into a

cotton shirt with skintight long sleeves that hugged his muscular build. Not his usual color either,

but white as snow. His beige trousers were a little loose but showed off his athletic legs.

His arms looked like they wanted to rip free from the confines of the cotton that was stretched

to the max. Justus settled his weight against his right shoulder and leaned on the doorframe,

staring at our faux fireplace.

“What’s wrong, Ghuardian?”

“Why do you continue running coffee down to the Relic? You should feed our guest.”

“She said she was too busy and didn’t want me to go through the trouble. I guess she’s not

much of a cook and mostly grabs takeout or fast food; maybe a homemade meal isn’t what Page is

craving.”

Justus turned on his heel and walked out of the room. I followed close behind as we went into

the kitchen. Justus stood before the open fridge, staring at a bag of potatoes, deli meat, and a

dozen soda cans.

I’d learned to whip up a few basic meals, but we often lacked the necessary ingredients. I

wasn’t a patient person in the kitchen, but I did make a good enchilada that Justus enjoyed.

Logan made cooking seem effortless and often fixed me a meal when we were together. I loved

the way he always needed to reach for something in the very place I was standing. He’d ease up

behind me and kiss my neck as he pulled a spatula from a drawer.

Needless to say, I blocked the utensil drawer on a regular basis whenever he was over.

“I’ll make omelets or something,” I volunteered, pulling his arm so I could grab the eggs.

Justus bullied me toward the door. “Tell her to wrap up the work she’s been doing and get off

my computer. Bring her upstairs,” he said gruffly.

I shrugged and went to the secret lift in the bathroom shower that lowered into the training

room downstairs. Page scribbled in a small notebook, sitting behind the grandiose desk in the

study. Justus had recovered a few things from the old house that weren’t damaged by the

intruders, one of which hung on the wall behind her. A sword.

“Do you normally work this much?”

She scrunched her hair but didn’t look up. “It’s my life.”

“It’s almost dark outside.”

Page set her glasses on the desk, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I didn’t realize it was so late

already; without windows or clocks down here I lose track of time.”

“Yeah, it’s like a casino around here.” I chuckled and leaned against the doorframe. “A Mage

doesn’t need a clock,” I reminded her. “I’d love windows, but Justus has a point. He works for

HALO and has good reason for the elaborate security.”

I scooted up a chair and we chatted for a while. Page revealed that as an only child, her

parents had placed an immense amount of pressure on her to have children. Relics had children

because of genetic obligation and not for the sole reason of loving a child. Her parents had died

many years ago, and the inheritance had allowed her to attend medical school for a short time.

The cost became overwhelming and she’d eventually dropped out. I admired the dedication she

had to her profession and her perseverance through everything. Page didn’t elaborate on the

details of her job because it would break the confidentiality of her clients.

It took a little convincing, but she came upstairs and as soon as we stepped into the hall, a

strong odor made me wrinkle my nose.

“Oh shit,” I muttered, running toward the dining room. It smelled like a fire had broken out.

My jaw hit the floor.

Food filled the table on the china plates we rarely used. Burnt toast, steamed vegetables, wine,

and a large bowl of what looked like rice, but I wasn’t sure.

Justus appeared in the doorway with a plate of chicken slathered in barbecue sauce.

“Leftovers?” I asked, taking a chair.

The plate tapped against the table as he set it down. Justus uncorked a bottle of red wine and

filled the crystal glasses. I was astounded when the realization hit me. “You cooked this yourself?”

“Looks good,” Page complimented, standing by the table.

Boy, she had no idea what a rarity this was. In the past year I had lived with Justus, he never

once cooked a meal that wasn’t reheated leftovers or cold cuts. This was like Halley’s Comet, or

spotting an unconscious leprechaun at the end of a rainbow with a pot of gold.

Page put her knee on the chair and leaned over the table, snatching a piece of toast and

scraping off the black crumbs. She had a wildish look to her without her glasses on, almost like

how I imagined a pixie’s face might look. She had the impish grin and wide eyes, all she lacked

was a set of fluttery wings and fairy dust.

“I usually just eat in the car when I’m between appointments,” she said, almost talking to

herself. After filling her plate, she read the label on the expensive bottle of wine and glared at

Justus. “Aren’t you going to sit down?”

He cleared his throat and shifted his weight on his right leg.

No. He wasn’t.

Not until she did.

I watched with avid curiosity; Page was the only other woman I’d ever met who was not

susceptible to a Charmer. Our gifts had limitations, and a rare few possessed something that

negated our energy.

Justus was a sexual lawnmower who ate up the attention of every woman within proximity.

What do you expect a man who’s treated as a plaything to become? None of them cared what

came out of his mouth, and because of that, he’d developed poor social skills with the opposite

sex.

Page irritated him. Even more interesting was that he irritated her. His frustration with her

comments, opinions, and actions was written all over his face. She didn’t listen to him, or maybe

“obey” was the operative word.

Justus looked like an ancient oak tree as he stood behind his chair with his arms crossed,

waiting for Page to seat herself.

He wasn’t being chivalrous or a hospitable host. He liked her.

Page gave in and slid onto her chair, sitting on one leg.

“What in the name of HALO is this?” I scooped a spoonful of a thick mash onto my plate and it

made an audible smack.

“Rice,” he said proudly, taking his seat at the head of the table.

“It looks like grits. What did you do to it? Or should I say, not do to it?”

“Those instructions are not accurate,” he argued, flipping his napkin open. “Someone should

speak to the company that fabricates them.”

His cheeks flamed and he rubbed his jaw to conceal his blush, so I put a sock in it. Justus

made the effort and that’s all that mattered.

The tall candles flickered in the dining room, illuminating the painting on the wall behind him.

Despite his inadequate cooking skills, Page went for seconds. Justus had thrown a frozen chicken

into the oven, and I’d never tasted anything chewier in my life.

He was a man who enjoyed eating meat with his hands, but when I glanced over, I saw they

were clean. Justus held the silverware like he intended to murder something, and a few jerky arm

movements sent half his chicken onto the floor. He picked it up, dropped it on his plate, and

looked at it contemplatively.

To my relief, he didn’t continue eating it. Instead, he set down his utensils and leaned back as

he often did when he couldn’t eat another bite. The chair creaked in the quiet room.

“I never have time to cook,” Page remarked, killing the silence. “I’m always too busy to figure

out how to boil an egg. What I really need to do is to marry a chef.” She arched a brow.

“Especially if they can prepare a good steak or sushi.”

“You and me both,” I said, trying a sip of overpriced wine. “I’m lucky. The man I’m seeing

enjoys cooking for me. Maybe it’s customary with his kind, but I’m not complaining.”

“I’m jealous.” She buttered the crunchy toast and took a bite, spraying crumbs all over her

plate. “Does he have any single brothers?”

Max slinked around my leg and I gave him a good scratch on the head. The lift in the bathroom

scared him, so he mostly hung out upstairs. He’d officially claimed one of the chairs in the living

room, which became the “hair chair.” Justus balked about the litter, meowing, and even the

revelation that cats shed whiskers.

Didn’t matter. I caught him a time or two cozied up with Max.

“Do you not have a man to take care of you?” Justus asked.

Oh yeah, he was trying to figure out her situation. I smiled at my plate and listened astutely.

“You can’t depend on anyone to take care of you, Mr. De Gradi. I take care of myself.”

Justus replied in a baritone voice. “You don’t take adequate care of yourself, so it would appear

that you need someone to do it for you.”

When she narrowed her eyes, her lashes looked like a Venus flytrap closing. “You don’t need to

take care of yourself because your light does that for you. The rest of us mortals have to make do

with what we have. What use would I be sleeping away the morning when I could be providing

invaluable services to the Breed? A person only requires a certain number of hours of sleep per

night. I eat enough to keep me going, and avoid overindulging in the necessities.”

“You spent all day in that room avoiding the necessities,” he said smoothly. Justus placed his

forearms on the table. “Consider this a vacation and set aside your duties.”

“If I did that then—”

The alarms suddenly blared and Justus arrowed to his feet. Page looked at me wide-eyed as he

hurriedly got up and moved into the hidden control room. I found him leaning over a monitor with

a vertical line creasing his brow.

“What is it?”

“Maybe a deer,” he said with uncertainty.

“Who the hell is that?”

In the upper left-hand corner of the monitor, a man was hiking up our driveway through the

snow. A hood obscured his face so neither of us could identify him.

“That looks like Slater,” Page said. “What’s he doing here?”

By the time I turned around, Page had left the room.

“Who is Slater, and how does he know where I live?” Justus demanded. Arms folded. Looking

pissed.

“Slater is my partner.” She slipped into her coat. “He’s a Relic and because we divide our cases

and rotate shifts, we have to share information on our whereabouts. I called him this morning to

let him know I’d return tomorrow, but nooo, he just wouldn’t listen.” She rambled on, almost to

herself. “He can be such an asshole sometimes.” The extreme manner in which she yanked her

shoelaces told me she didn’t care for him much.

A hard look rolled across his face. “He has no business on my property.”

I grabbed a pair of Justus’s oversized boots and clopped alongside Page as we went up to the

garage. It required walking down a dark hallway and taking a short elevator ride. I tucked my

hands beneath my arms as the garage door lifted.

Justus had cleared a path so that it was passable, but he hadn’t made it all the way to the

main turnoff. The man was a machine.

Slater kicked up snow as he approached the driveway. Fairly tall, sunglasses, and a short,