Kate Daniels 06 - Gunmetal Magic

trouble backing out.
    I pretended to be absorbed in my likely worthless evidence. I had spent the entire drive to the office trying to figure out what to say, how to say it. I wanted to explain why I had donethings. I wanted to tell him I loved him. I had tried to prepare myself for the possibility that he would tell me off, but most of me hoped with a desperate naive hope that he would forgive me and we would go home together.
    A knock sounded through our absurdly reinforced door.
    “Periculo tuo ingredere!”
Ascanio proclaimed.
    What the hell did he just say?
Ingredere
…Enter…Enter at your own risk. “If it’s a client, I’ll shoot you,” I told him.
    The door swung open. A new scent swirled around me, a heavy fragrance—rose, patchouli, and coriander—an expensive perfume. A tall woman stepped inside. She was close to six feet and her shimmering golden heels added another four inches to her height. Her hair, the color of luminous white gold, fell down over her shoulders past her butt. She wore a really short black dress or a long T-shirt, I couldn’t quite decide which. Whatever it was, it was cinched to her improbably narrow waist by a white belt with golden studs. Her face, pretty and painted with makeup to near perfection, had that slightly vapid expression sometimes seen on models: she was either sleepy, horny, or just badly needed to sneeze.
    A dark figure stepped into the office behind her. Six foot three, lean, wearing a black leather jacket and faded jeans…He stepped into the light. Dark blue eyes looked at me and the world fell apart around us. His face, framed by soft black hair, wasn’t perfect in the way Ascanio’s was, but it was masculine and handsome, and his eyes communicated a kind of sexual intensity, a promise and a challenge, that made women lose all of their self-respect and try to proposition him in plain view of their dates. The familiar scent washed over me like a pain-filled perfume.
    Raphael.
    As if in a dream I saw him put his hand on the woman’s butt, gently pushing her toward the two chairs by my desk.
    Oh sweet Jesus.
    He replaced me.
    He replaced me with a better version of me.
    And he brought her to the office. To rub it in.
    The planet snapped back into place with an agonizing crunch. I stood up, saw myself extend a hand, and heard myself say, “Good morning.”
    “Rebecca.” The woman shook my hand.
    I concentrated so I wouldn’t crush her finger bones into cartilage pancakes.
    “I got your message,” Raphael said.
    And I’ve got yours, loud and clear.
Inside me, the other me, the one that grew claws and fangs, howled in helpless fury. She didn’t understand nuances. She understood only that the person who loved her and cared for her had betrayed her and now she hurt.
He was mine. Mine!
The other me screamed inside me, tearing at the walls to be let out.
    I struggled to keep her in check, imposing logic over emotion. Moving on was one thing. Moving on I could understand. It would break my heart, but I would understand it. This was a giant “fuck you” spelled out in glowing letters.
    I forced my mouth open. My voice sounded flat. “Please sit down.”
    They sat. Behind them Ascanio stared at us, his jaw hanging down.
    “Ascanio, would you mind getting our guests some coffee.”
    “Black, please,” Raphael said, his voice pounding a sharp spike into me. “Cream and sugar separate.”
    “I don’t drink coffee,” Rebecca informed us. “It stains your teeth.”
    “Did you have any trouble with the cops?” I asked, my control so tight that if I let myself go a hair, I would snap.
    He looked directly at me. “Just minor formalities. Did you have any trouble at the dig site?”
    “None at all. Stefan helped me.”
    “He’s a good man, Stefan.”
    “Yes, he is. Who is your lovely associate?” I unleashed my best smile in Rebecca’s direction. Raphael leaned forward, sliding his left arm along the back of Rebecca’s chair, his body half turned to shield her. He recognized the smile—it was the kind that meant someone was about to get shot.
    “I’m his fiancée,” Rebecca said.
    Fiancée?
Fiancée.
    Raphael’s eyes widened a fraction. He hadn’t wanted me to know, but it was too late. She had let the cat out of the bag.
    “How lovely,” I said, sweetness dripping from my voice. “I hadn’t heard the announcement.”
    “We’re engaged to be engaged,” Rebecca said. “We’re waiting until the end of the physical year to officially