L.L. Foster - The Kindred

If she’d expected real resistance, Luther surprised her.

“How?”

“I know people. I have friends who run social services. We can do a lot off the radar, maybe even find the perfect adoptive parents for them.” She wanted to protest, but he didn’t give her the chance. “The names sounded Hispanic.”

“They are, I think. Dacia has an accent. I haven’t heard Malinal say much yet.” A fond smile showed in her eyes, if not on her mouth. “She’s pretty shy.”

Always amazed with Gaby’s capacity for caring, Luther hugged her close. “So the kids would probably like a surrounding of their own culture, don’t you think? It’s something to consider.”

Skeptical, she nonetheless shrugged. “I guess.”

“Either way, I can ensure that they stay close, so you can still watch over them. What do you say?”

The idea had merit with her, given her lack of complaint. “You promise you won’t let them go unless we know for sure—”

“That they’ll be safe, cared for, and loved? What do you think?”

She glanced at Ann, let out a huff. “Yeah, you wouldn’t. You’re too nice for that.”

“Thank you.”

Ann stepped into the discussion. “You know, Gaby, the girls will need school. It’s important for them to be around other kids their own age. But if you’re doing things outside the law, you can’t enroll them.”

Gaby put a hand to her head. “Shit.” She paced away, turned back. “I’ve got a lot to think about.”

“At least for now, they’re someplace warm and safe, right?” Ann squeezed her shoulder. “You did a very good thing, Gaby.”

Her eyes softened, a direct contrast to the words that left her mouth. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t going to let those drug dealers get to them.”

Luther did a double take. “More drug dealers?”

“A brother, and an even bigger asshole than the one I cut up.”

Luther groaned; Ann cleared her throat.

Gaby paid no attention.

“His name is Whit, and I’m sure I’ll have to deal with him again, but don’t worry. I didn’t tear out his spine yet—even though I wanted to.” She kissed Luther quick and hard. “And thanks to you, I no longer have the urge to go back and find him and do it even though you asked me not to. So thanks.”

Left floundering in his own mixed emotions, Luther watched her go.

Folding the list, Ann whistled. “She’s something else.”

“I know.”

“I think I’ll take off early while you finish studying those arson reports.”

“Shopping?”

She shrugged. “I have my own soft spot for kids.” She paused. “Does Gaby really have money to pay me back?”

“Yeah, she does.” Luther thought of her graphic novels and wondered if she’d be writing again soon. Feeling his own amazement, he said, “She’s a lot more resourceful than you’d ever imagine.”

“I doubt that, Luther. With that one, my imagination is always on overdrive.” Ann grinned while tapping the list on her thigh. “I’ll take care of the shopping, and then be ready by tonight.”

Luther wished for some way to have backup handy when he and Gaby went to see Fabian. His gut told him the night would not end well, might in fact be even worse than Gaby foretold.

But he didn’t have legal grounds to call out the SWAT team, and with Gaby around it was always dangerous to involve other law enforcement anyway. Few would back her on her slash-and-dash-them philosophy of fighting crime.

The plan was for Ann to stay nearby outside the tattoo parlor, her radio in hand, and at the first indication of mayhem, she’d call it in.

Luther hoped it’d be enough. Gaby, naturally, would consider Ann’s presence overkill. “I have a real bad feeling about this, Ann. You have to be extra careful. If Gaby is right, Fabian is beyond unbalanced. And we still don’t know if he’s working alone, or with someone.”

“Don’t worry about me. If it does go down, you better have an explanation ready because the lieutenant won’t be happy that you kept him in the dark.”

Having no reason to delay leaving the conference room, Luther held the door for Ann. “Yeah, well, it’s not like he’ll get a chuckle if another body shows up, either. This is the only way I know to stop him, to nail him, so let’s just hope it works.”

Gaby had to admit, the cell phone was handy as she touched base with the girls time and again. She felt like a fool, pretending to have mothering qualities when she didn’t, but the girls played on her mind, and talking to them alleviated the clamoring in her brain.

She also talked to Bliss. She wanted to ensure that, if something should happen to her, Bliss would see to the kids’ safety. Bliss thought her nuts, but then, her friend didn’t know about her planned meeting in less than an hour.

Dread was yet another new sensation for Gaby, and she didn’t like it worth a damn. Especially since the dread was diluted with anticipation. She wanted to meet with Fabian, to expose his noxious lunacy and then dispatch him with appropriate, grinding finality.

But not knowing how or why Fabian felt familiar hung like a harbinger of sinister proportions over her head, clouding her perspective and her judgment.

“You okay?” Luther asked as he parked far enough away from the tattoo shop that Fabian wouldn’t be able to read his plates.

“Just ducky.” Keenly aware of their surroundings, Gaby stared out the window and studied every shadow, every shift in the wind. “Why?”

“I feel your tension.” He cupped a warm hand to the back of her neck, underneath the fall of her hair. “Remember, Gaby, I care, and in caring I can’t control my concern for you.”

“Yeah, I got it.” She studied two women sitting on steps, smoking cigarettes and bemoaning circumstances. “I care for you, too, so if I could do this without you, I would.”

He went very still, as if unsure what to say.

Gaby glanced his way. “I’m trying to work with you here, Luther.”

“I know.”

“Then what has you all shell-shocked?”

A slow smile tilted his sexy mouth. “You admitted that you care.”

“Haven’t I before?”

“I don’t think so, but if you did, it wasn’t this sincere.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on. Get the lead out. I’ve got a tattoo waiting.”

He opened the car door. “I still think it’s a stupid idea to mark your body just to hide a scar that’s damn near gone already.”

“Noted.”

“The way you heal is . . . ”

“Incredible, I know. Just another of my many talents.” Gaby stepped out to the sidewalk. She breathed in the air, held out her arms, and let her senses pick up each small clue.

Hands on his hips beneath a light jacket, Luther cocked a brow. “We’re a block away.”

“And that means what?” Sensing nothing amiss, just the usual misery and despair, Gaby started down the sidewalk. “You think he’s too stupid to be as cautious as us? Not likely. Don’t underestimate him, Luther. It could cost you.”

“I would never risk you that way. Believe me, I’m on guard for anything that might happen.”

He fell into step beside her, and it felt . . . right.

Comfortable.

To be doing this with Luther, to have him with her, changed everything. His impressive size and strength, his unwavering integrity edged by badass determination to see good prevail, lent Gaby a fresh perception on everything she saw, all that she touched and felt, wanted and needed.

She could do what had to be done. Always, without fail.

But she could also retrench, she could stay in herself instead of drowning in the zone. Because of Luther’s nearness.

The ways he effected constructive change in her used to alarm her. But not anymore. Not now.