Page 31 of Angel

I exhale a breath and Gabriel hisses.

“An imposter, from the looks of it.”

“What makes you so sure?”

He reaches for his phone and flicks to a screen, offering it to me.

I note the image, a little grainy from the camera, but from first looks it appears to be a member of The Wild Angels. I zoom in on the jacket, noting the crude copy of the insignia. Nothing like ours, enough though to make it look like it is. The mask is also not quite right. The bandana is a little different.

I hand it back. “It appears to be a copy made from memory.”

“I agree.”

Gabriel leans back, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It was always inevitable somebody would use our disguise to their advantage. To the authorities, this is the gold they needed to bring us down. The legend solved if you like.”

“Do they have the same image on file?”

I already know my answer but feel the need to check.

“No. Wiped and for our eyes only.”

“Any idea who he - or she - is?”

He shakes his head. “No. There is nothing on the streets on him, yet, anyway. He is a ghost. One we need to lay to rest, and I want you to put the word out to the Angels to be on their guard and keep their ears open and ask discreet questions.”

“Consider it done.”

“What about our other problem?”

The words catch in my throat, and Gabriel considers me for a brief moment before tapping his fingers on the table.

“She won’t find anything. Let her keep looking. It is not our concern.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Johnathan Powell is dead. Give her the body and the problem goes away.”

He says nothing, the hard lines on his face deepening. Anger intensified in his gaze as his fist clenches.

“We are done.”

I kind of expected that, and with a sigh, I stand, nodding with respect as I walk away from him.

Breakfast is never eaten with Gabriel. I prefer to eat at home, anyway. My appetite dwindles the longer I spend with him, and as I leave him to his day, I approach mine with the usual cool resolve where I let nothing in. Emotion in check and a cold, ruthless fury that I direct at the world I live in.

I can’t judge Gabriel when I am exactly the same.

CHAPTER 11

SOPHIE

Remaining at Bethan’s was never an option because my days are full. I love being busy; it doesn’t give me time to dwell on how empty my life is.

Rehearsals are all-encompassing and the early start was welcome because, despite the alcohol in my system last night, I didn’t sleep particularly well.

So many things were occupying my mind, one in particular, a pleasant memory to replace the nightmares.