Page 10

Gabriel growled and a couple passing him in the lobby gave him a wide berth, a look of alarm on their faces. “Stef told you, didn’t she?” Bloody Stef . She probably found his situation amusing. “Look, just…just give me the information, Pierre.”

Of the two of them, Pierre was the more serious, sensible one. He kept Louis in line, for the most part.

Louis huffed down the phone line, but it was Pierre who answered him. “I’ve matched our family genetics through medical records to—”

“Isobella?”

“ Oui. Though you had to have guessed by looking at her. She’s the one, Gabriel. The one who mated Edmond and Aubert.”

Gabriel’s relief at Pierre’s confirmation was palpable.

“She’s where we get our stunning good looks from,” added Louis.

“But…” Even over the phone, Gabriel sensed Pierre’s disquiet. “We have a problem.”

Ice slivered down his spine. “What sort of problem?”

“A big one . ”

Merde. He paced about the lobby. As if things weren’t complicated enough.

“Isobella’s sick, Gabriel. That’s why she has medical records in the system.”

Gabriel glanced over at the table. Annabelle and Dutton were arguing. Isobella sat quietly, her hands resting in her lap. The wrongness of her scent. She was ill. Of course.

“How sick?”

“It’s not good.”

He raked his hand through his hair. “How long?”

Pierre sighed down the phone line. “It’s hard to say. The diagnosis is only recent, and the cancer is at stage four.”

“Cancer? Stage four? She doesn’t look that sick?”

“Sadly, ovarian cancer is often asymptomatic.”

Ovarian cancer. Putain. It was a miracle he and his brothers existed at all.

“Take a guess, Pierre. How long?”

“With no intervention on our part?”

“ Oui. Without a turning.”

“She could have five years, she could have one. She could have less. There’s no way of knowing how fast the cancer is spreading yet.

But it’s already leeching into other parts of her body.

That means she’s going to get sicker, and it’s possible her doctor will have recommended surgery and chemotherapy.

Neither of which will put her in a good place physically, or mentally to travel back in time. ”

L’enfer. He paced the lobby. She had to go. There was no way around it. “Maybe I could turn her now?”

Louis snorted. “And they say I’m impulsive.”

“That could take months, and doing so will change what will happen in the tenth century.” Pierre sighed.

“It’s your decision, Gabriel. You’re there.

You can evaluate where she’s at physically.

But if it was me… I wouldn’t be messing with anything on this end.

Personally, I like existing. We both do.

And we’d thank you to take that into consideration when making that decision. ”

Gabriel eyed Isobella. She said something that made Annabelle laugh, and Dutton scowl. He grimaced. Who knew if Isobella’s illness was pivotal to his ancestors finding her? In taking up her cause? In their decision to mate her?

“You’re right, I can’t turn her.” Pierre’s and Louis’ relief filtered across the airwaves.

“We’ll just have to work with what we’ve got.

” He glanced over at the table again. Isobella was watching him.

He turned his back to her. “Can you check into something else for me? Annabelle says she took a photo of the spell they’re using to go back in time.

She deleted it from her phone, or so she said. ”

“Even if she deleted it, I should be able to find it,” said Pierre. “Do you have her number?”

“No.” If he did, he would have contacted her long before now.

The number he had for her in Paris had stopped working about the same time she’d left the country.

Probably a SIM card from a local service provider she’d used while she was in France.

Not for the first time, he mentally kicked himself for not answering her numerous calls and texts while she was still in Paris. Before they’d stopped altogether.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll find it. I’ll call you when we have something.”

“ Merci. ” Gabriel ended the call. He brought up Stef’s number and sent her a text.

Any luck?

Stef’s reply was swift. Some. Marjory Jackson is out at a function, and she’s given the staff the night off. I have a few hours to search through her office. With all these books, it could take that long.

Find anything interesting so far?

Quite a bit. I’ve sent a bunch of images off to Alain. The arcane knowledge in this room is phenomenal.

That may be, but Annabelle had given him another idea.

I’ve got a better lead for you. Annabelle works at a bookshop called Rarity.

It specializes in rare and antique books.

Annabelle says she found a spell in the back of a book.

She took a photo before they sold it. I’ve got Pierre and Louis working on that.

Some anonymous financier upstate bought it. So she says.

A store like that should have a record of sales.

Precisely.

I’m on it.

He paused and then punched out another text to Stef before he could change his mind.

I’ve found the right Bella Rodriguez. Annabelle’s mine.

A few moments passed, then a reply.

I’m very happy for you, Gabe. Be careful. Until they give us all the answers, we don’t know who we can trust.

Noted.

His phone dinged with an email from Pierre.

He gave the files a quick scan, paying the most attention to the one on Cordelia King, Dutton’s great aunt.

There wasn’t much to go on, but what there was didn’t make for a children’s bedtime story.

Pierre was right. Cordelia was a concern.

His Annabelle needed him now more than ever. Whether she realized it or not.

He slipped his phone into his pocket. His thoughts grim, he returned to the table and slid into his seat.

He eyed Isobella. Beneath the light touch of makeup, he noted the dark smudges under her eyes.

Gabriel breathed in, taking in her scent and focusing his enhanced senses on her.

Undeniably present, the taint of her illness filled his nose.

His gut tightened. They had to prepare her for the tenth century, for Faucher.

And make sure the spell was as accurate as possible.

But first, they had to convince Annabelle not to go, and to send her step-sister instead. Her sick step-sister. Putain.