Devil's Gate (Elder Races #4.6)(4)

“I’m butting in where I haven’t been invited, Seremela,” he said bluntly. “And I hope you forgive me for it. I happened to be in a meeting with Carling when she received your email. I know you have a family emergency, and I wanted to stop by to make sure you were okay.”

Her lips parted and her eyes widened. She had left her medical examiner position in Illinois and moved to Miami to focus on private medical research for Carling and Rune. Ever since then she had enjoyed getting to know Duncan.

Duncan was Carling’s youngest progeny, and as Carling and Rune’s lawyer, he was working closely with them on setting up their new agency. Seremela was one of the agency’s first employees.

Duncan wasn’t Seremela’s boss, by any means, but he would be aware of any administrative decisions Carling and Rune made, and they certainly wouldn’t hesitate to mention confidential matters to him.

As their group was small and most were new to the area, they tended to socialize together as well as work together. Seremela and Duncan had shared good conversations at group events, and she had hoped they might have begun to develop a friendship, but coming in person to check on her wellbeing went beyond anything she could have expected.

He cocked his head. “Are you okay?” he asked gently. “You haven’t had a death in the family, have you?”

“No!” she blurted out. “No, I haven’t. Duncan, I—this was so thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

“Oh, good,” he said. The set of his shoulders eased, and he gave her that crooked smile of his that was so damn charming. “Nobody has died, and you aren’t angry with me for intruding. I count both those things as wins. Do you mind me asking what has happened? We’re all transplants to Miami, and it’s all too possible to feel cut-off and alone. Carling and I were both concerned you might need help but not feel comfortable enough to ask for it.”

She groaned and gestured. “I just found out my niece ran away from home a few months ago. My sister has kept it under wraps all this time. She hired a detective to find Vetta—that’s my niece—and now that he has tracked her down, we need to bring her home.”

Duncan’s gaze had grown intent as she talked. “I take it your niece is all right?”

“Yes, as far as I understand, she is,” Seremela said. “That girl’s got a talent for finding trouble though, and if she can’t find trouble, often she’ll create it. I’m afraid I can’t talk with you long. I’m on standby, and I’m getting ready to leave for the airport so I can take the first available flight out.”

“Your sister must be grateful you’re going with her to get Vetta.”

Seremela shook her head. “Oh, my sister’s not going to get Vetta.”

Duncan’s sleek dark brows lowered. “Excuse me?”

Seremela gave him a dry look. “Camilla can’t face conflict,” she explained. “I’m going to get Vetta by myself.”

His frown deepened. “Forgive me again,” he said. “I’m well aware of how intrusive this might seem, but I do not like the sound of that.”

“Well, it is what it is.” She twitched a shoulder. “Although I know how irritating that statement is to a lot of people too. Right now the most important thing is to get Vetta home safely, and that means moving as quickly as possible now that we know where she is. Everything else can be dealt with later.”

As she talked, Duncan turned to look out the open balcony door. She didn’t mind in the slightest. It gave her the opportunity to study his profile.

Slight lines carved the corners of his eyes and his expressive, well formed mouth. He must have been around thirty when Carling turned him at the height of the California Gold Rush in the mid nineteenth century.

While he would forever wear a young man’s face, there were subtle telltale signs that spoke otherwise. He carried a certain gravitas in his presence that simply didn’t exist in younger men. Somehow it held the weight of years and experience without seeming too heavy.

Oh, she did like him, so much. She twisted her fingers together and offered, “I also thought about asking the detective if he would go with me when I went to get her.”

Duncan pursed his mouth. The small, thoughtful expression hollowed already lean cheeks and accentuated the strong line of his cheekbones. “Most detectives won’t get physically involved, especially if it involves a family matter,” he said. “The majority of detectives work on divorce documentation, do background checks and that sort of thing.”

“I know,” she said quietly. She had also thought about hiring someone who specialized in extracting people from cults, drugs and other subversive cultures. She just wasn’t sure any professional interventionist would agree to handle something as trivial as Vetta’s sheer bloody mindedness.

Vetta wasn’t addicted or brain washed. She was just contrary to the bone. She was also twenty, which was especially unfortunate since that was well past the age of consent in most jurisdictions. Medusae aged so much more slowly than humans, and Vetta’s emotional maturity was more like a young human teenager’s than a grown adult.

“Where is your niece now?” he asked, glancing at her.

She closed her eyes and sighed. “She’s at Devil’s Gate.”

“Devil’s Gate?” He pivoted sharply to face her.