Devil's Advocate (The X-Files: Origins #2)(44)

A few cars went up and down the street, and Dana only glanced at them. She did not see the black sedan parked on the shadowy side of the street. She did not see the two men who watched her.





CHAPTER 41

Beyond Beyond

5:53 P.M.

Corinda was there but busy at the checkout with people buying the latest astrology book by a New York Times–bestselling author.

Dana got to the store too late to catch Melissa, who had gone into the advanced yoga class already. It made her anxious, because she needed to tell everything to her sister. Every single detail.

She was too nervous to sit and drink tea, so she wandered around the shop, killing time and fidgeting.

“?Qué pasa, mai?” said a voice, and she spun so fast that she knocked a statue of the Hindu god Ganesha off a table. Angelo ducked and caught the statue before it hit the floor. It was an incredible feat, and Dana gaped.

“Wow!” she said.

Angelo straightened, hefting the small stone statue in his hand, then placed it neatly and carefully in its spot. He adjusted two other statues that had been knocked askew.

“They’re expensive,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to see you have to buy it, ’cause they have that whole ‘you break it, you bought it’ thing going on.”

He had an accent, but his voice was soft and there was an almost musical lilt to it. He wasn’t wearing his blue uniform, but instead had on jeans and an FSK High T-shirt that looked to be several years old. His arms were sinewy without being bulky, and he looked like he was on springs, ready to move at a moment’s notice. Dana realized that it was his natural state, even though his posture seemed to be casual, even slouchy. It was the kind of feline grace she’d seen in the big cats at the San Diego Zoo.

His smile was slow, too. It was knowing, personal, amused, unconcerned, and yet there was interest there.

“I—I’ve seen you at school,” she said when absolutely nothing else occurred to her.

“I work there,” he said. “Part-time.”

“But you don’t still go there? You look like you’re a junior.”

“I’m nineteen,” he said. “I graduated last year.”

“Oh.”

Angelo turned toward a hand truck laden with cardboard boxes. He took a folding knife from his pocket, flicked the heavy blade into place, and then cut open the top box. He did it with incredible speed and grace, the silver edge slicing neatly and precisely through the packing tape without touching the contents inside. As Angelo folded the knife and put it away, Dana took another quick look at the scars on his arms and hands. Had he gotten them from learning how to use the knife? Or in knife fights? Some of them looked old and some looked like they had been bad.

“I’m working a couple of jobs now,” explained Angelo. “The school, here. Doing some maintenance stuff at the baseball field over the county line at Oak Valley, and picking up a few hours here and there hammering out dented fenders at Porter’s Auto Body.”

“That’s a lot of working.”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind work. Like the auto-body stuff best. I dig cars, but that’s only a few hours a week, because Porter mostly uses full-time guys. He calls me in when he has overflow. Money’s money,” he said, “and I’m trying to pay for college.”

“College?”

His smile suddenly dimmed. “Yeah, poor Latino kids want to go to college, too. Big surprise, huh?”

“No,” she cried. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” he asked, his dark eyes suddenly intense. “You see me hauling bags of trash in school and you think that’s all I’m good for? You ever even know any Latino kids like me?”

“I never said that,” protested Dana. “I know a lot of people like you.”

And the like you hung in the air, as clumsy and awkward as it could possibly be.

“I—I m-mean,” she stammered, “we used to live in San Diego. There were a lot of Mexican kids in school.”

“I’m Puerto Rican,” he said. “Or can’t you tell the difference?”

She tried to organize an answer, but unfortunately every thought that came in her head sounded just as bad as what she’d already blurted.

“Leave her alone, Angelo,” said a voice behind Dana. She turned and saw a man standing there. Sunlight.

“I was just messing with her,” said Angelo quickly.

“She doesn’t know that,” said Sunlight. “Look at her. She’s about to faint. Or run away.”

Shutters seemed to slam down behind Angelo’s eyes. “I didn’t mean nothing.”

Sunlight came and placed a hand on Angelo’s shoulder and then put his other on Dana’s. His touch was surprisingly warm, and there was a tingle as if some kind of electric charge passed from his hand and into her skin. She shivered. From the amused smile on the corners of Sunlight’s mouth, she realized that he understood the effect and owned it.

“Tell the young lady you’re sorry,” suggested Sunlight.

“No,” Dana said quickly. “It was all me. I said something stupid and I’m really sorry.”

“Angelo…?” murmured Sunlight. “Are you going to let the lady take responsibility for all the negativity in the air?”