Thirteen
Gabriel
It was here. The moment was finally here.
It'd been two days since Xin was arrested. They'd been released yesterday, with a stern warning to not leave town but the cops must've been dotting their I's and crossing their T's because they hadn't come for Patrick yesterday, much to my disappointment.
But today, they were here.
Detective Warner and Detective Sethi were both here, and it was a struggle to keep my emotions in check as I watched them through the glass wall of Patrick's office.
Detective Warner was holding up a warrant while two uniformed officers collected his laptop and the hard drive from his desktop while he watched with a pale face.
Once the officers had what they needed, they came for my computer too, and I stepped back, letting them take what they wanted.
Inside, Aisha was putting cuffs on Patrick, and I couldn't take my eyes off the scene. How many nights had I imagined this? The real thing was far, far better, even if I couldn't hear the words Patrick was spitting at her.
Detective Warner snapped at him, and Patrick's mouth clamped shut, his face turning a deep shade of red.
As the detectives marched him out of his office and toward the elevators, he turned to glare at me. "What the fuck are you standing there for? Call my lawyer!"
I had half a mind to take off my lanyard and tell him I quit, but I held myself in check. I couldn't, not until the dust had settled. I wasn't going to make myself a suspect by being too hasty.
Nodding, I grabbed the phone and called his lawyer, though I doubted even she could get him out of it this time.
Once that was done, I sat down in my chair, leaned back, and let out a long sigh.
I felt like I'd been holding my breath for nine years, and it had just gotten a little bit easier to breathe.
I couldn't relax yet, though. Not until Patrick got his day in court and was convicted of his crimes. Not until Kevin's name was cleared.
When I no longer felt the urge to get up and do a little jig, I pulled out my phone and shared the good news with Xin. They replied instantly.
Xin: Was it as satisfying as you'd hoped?
Me: Better than anything I'd imagined.
Xin: Good. Your cop friend will have them digging into those computers soon, and I'm sure they'll follow the tracks I've laid to Patrick's offshore account, which also has the money he stole nine years ago. It's a wonder he hasn't spent it yet.
Me: He's filthy rich. He didn't need to spend it.
How fucked up was that? Patrick hadn't used a penny of the money he stole, the money that led to Kevin's death.
He'd stolen it simply because he could, because he was greedy and wanted it.
Yet, his punishment would be the same as that of someone who stole to feed his family, or to pay hospital bills to keep someone from dying. How was that fair?
Kevin had paid for a crime he didn't commit with his life, and yet Patrick would probably end up in some white-collar prison with other frauds and greedy assholes like him. He deserved a lot worse, but at least it would keep him from ruining someone else's life the way he ruined Kevin's.
With Patrick and my computer gone, there wasn't much for me to do.
I used someone else's iPad to reschedule his meetings, then sat back and read a book on my phone to pass the time.
A few people from the Finance team stopped by to gossip, and I told them what had happened, relishing the way they quickly turned on Patrick.
He had no friends here—he'd made sure of that—and suddenly, his employees were rushing to say how they'd 'always suspected' he was up to no good.
"I knew Kevin was innocent. I bet they'll find proof Patrick was the one who stole that money years ago," said Mason, a man in his forties who'd worked here for over ten years. He'd been the first to tell me about Kevin when I arrived here, warning me to be careful around Patrick.
"If there was proof of that, wouldn't they have found it the first time?" another employee asked, and the conversation devolved into a discussion about corruption in the police force and police incompetence.
Aisha had told me that the cop who investigated Kevin's case had been a good one, but a little old-school. The type who didn't take bribes but didn't investigate deeper if he had enough evidence for an arrest. Was that why he'd arrested Kevin even though he hadn't found the money?
After a while, the people gathered around my desk dispersed, and I went back to my reading, though I was sure the news of Patrick's arrest had already spread through the company like wildfire.
When it hit five, I quickly packed up, but before I could leave, someone came up to my desk. I was about to tell them to buzz off when I glanced up and stopped short.
It was Mr. John Jefferson, the CEO of the company. I had never, in my years of employment, talked to him directly.
"Sir," I greeted as I shot to my feet. Neither Kevin nor I had been sure if Jefferson was involved in any way, but since Patrick had stolen from his company, I doubted it. Xin certainly hadn't found anything implicating him, which might as well make him a unicorn.
"Gabriel, right?" he asked, his thick brows furrowed. He was in his late fifties, his hair more salt than pepper, his face lined with wrinkles. He still made an imposing figure in his three-piece suit and sharp rectangular glasses.
"Yes, sir."
"I heard about Patrick's arrest. What can you tell me about it?"
I wondered why he was asking me and not one of the higher-ups or his lawyer, but I told him everything I knew.
About the stolen art, about the discrepancies I'd seen in the company ledger, about my credentials being used when I wasn't here.
Jefferson listened intently, the furrow between his brows deepening the more I spoke.
When I was done, he stood silent for a long moment, then patted my shoulder. "Thank you, Gabriel. You may go now."
I nodded, then quickly made my exit, wondering what he would do next. Would he defend Patrick, or could he finally see what kind of man his CFO was?
Xin
The day after I was released, Lazlo decided to take me out for lunch as a treat. We ended up at a little Chinese restaurant, and once we squeezed ourselves into a tiny corner booth, Lazlo waved an illusion into place so our conversation couldn't be overheard.
"Did you hear about Rai and Neriel?" Lazlo asked after we placed our order, and I shook my head.
I'd been so focused on Gabriel's mission that I'd fallen out of touch with the demon group chat.
I had over 1000 texts waiting for me, and the growing number just made it more overwhelming to try to catch up. I hadn't dared.
"You should really check your texts, you know. Anyway, they found out they're mated to each other."
"Really?" I asked, surprised. Was it ironic that the only two 100 percent straight demons in the group that came to the human world were mated to each other? I certainly thought so.
"Yeah. They hadn't realized because they were living in different cities and kept missing each other in the meetings, but at the last meeting, they finally saw each other and figured it out."
"Good for them. Is one of them planning to move to be with the other?" Every time one of us found our mate or mates, I sent up a silent thank-you to Fate for making it possible. I had a feeling it was their way of thanking us for our work in Underworld and for what we were doing here now.
"Nah, that will be a logistical nightmare at this point since we've already shuffled around so much. They decided to just teleport between their two areas and make it work."
That could work in the short-term, but at some point, they would have to make a decision.
"Any more exciting news?" I asked as the server brought us our food. I wanted to check on Gabriel, but Lazlo was right in that I'd been distracted recently. I couldn't forget my mission in favor of Gabriel's.
"Not really. Though Mort is even more sure of moving on."
Moving on meant going to Afterworld, which was a one-way journey. Once you went there, you couldn't come back. You could only live there until you were ready for incarnation.
If any of the demons here wanted to move on, I'd have thought it would be Korrigan. He was one of the older three, and he'd been close to Mammon, the demon who'd gone darkside. If anyone had reason to want to leave all this behind, it was him.
"Really? I didn't think he was serious about that." Mort had mentioned moving on when I'd met up with him, Jeska, Arnick, and Ajax a while ago, but I hadn't paid him much mind.
"You know he's never been a big fan of humans, and I guess he finds the human world overwhelming."
I frowned. I couldn't argue that. I'd felt the same. It was why I'd stuck to hacking, why I'd spent all my time in my little apartment. At least I had until Gabriel sent me that challenge.
"I suppose that's understandable. Do you think the Otherworlders will try to stop him?"
"Nah. They said this was a voluntary thing, didn't they? I doubt they'd mind."
We focused on our food for a while, though Lazlo didn't waste the space between bites, catching me up on his classes with Kenji, the fascinating college culture he was obsessed with participating in, and the general shit the two demons got up to.
After lunch—which was more of a brunch, time-wise—we parted ways. Lazlo probably teleported back to the apartment he shared with Kenji, his best friend, while I made my way home, deciding to walk there instead of teleporting.
Gabriel texted me when Patrick was arrested, and I could practically feel the glee he felt. I wished I was there with him so I could give him a hug. Maybe later.
Once I got home, I climbed into bed and took a nap. The noise and smells of the jail cell had made it impossible for me to sleep last night, and while demons didn't need sleep, most of us liked it.
The sun had set when I woke up, and as I sat in bed wondering what to do, I realized I could visit Gabriel. I would keep myself hidden, but there was no reason not to.
While Patrick hadn't been convicted yet, surely that would happen soon. At the very least, he'd be charged, and once that happened, I'd do whatever it took—while following the cardinal rule of not hurting a human—to make sure he was convicted.
On my way there, I grabbed food from a Greek place Gabriel had mentioned during our chat, and some dog treats for Gray. Hella hadn't visited me again, so I was looking forward to the dog cuddles.
Gabriel opened the door the moment I rang the doorbell, as if he'd been waiting for me to arrive, even though I hadn't told him I was coming.
"Hey," he greeted as he stepped aside, and I smiled.
"Hi. I brought dinner."
Gabriel sniffed the air, then grinned. "Greek?"
I nodded, and he took the bags from me and carried them into the kitchen.
"Aisha texted. She told me about Patrick's interrogation."
"Yeah? What did she say?" I asked as I followed after him, admiring the way his sweatpants clung to him.
When Gabriel didn't reply, I glanced up and realized I'd been caught. My cheeks flushed hot without the help of magic, and he grinned.
He didn't mention it, though. Instead, he started plating up the food as he spoke. "Actually, she told me something strange. Patrick said he doesn't remember why he dropped money for you to collect. What does he hope to get from lying? There's CCTV proof that he did it."
"Who knows what's going on inside his head?
" I asked as I helped him carry the food to the living room.
I couldn't exactly tell him that I had messed with his head so he wouldn't remember the blackmail.
Patrick saying he didn't remember would sound like nothing more than a flimsy excuse, while the blackmail could've made the detectives investigate further.
We were just sitting down to eat when the doorbell rang. At the same moment, Gabriel's phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen, and his eyes widened as they turned to me.
"It's Detective Warner!" he hissed in a low voice as Gray started barking at the door. Well, fuck.