ON THE MOVE
Angel's Pov
Ian is still talking, but his voice is progressively gets distant in my ears, the words blurring together.
Because whatever he's saying is unimportant. He said the only thing I needed to hear.
“Miss Angel is missing, Sir.”
One job. Ten people, ten salaries, and ten promises to do everything they can to keep her safe. That's all I asked, all I paid handsomely for.
And they’ve failed.
I blink once, like I can slow down time by sheer force of will. I lower the phone and end the call, my hands beginning to tremble a little.
Angel is missing.
How is it that everything I have done to that woman has turned out to be detrimental to her? How have I managed to keep hurting her over and fucking over again?
I place my palms flat against the desk to steady them.
I can spiral later. For now, I need to remain in control, need to keep my head. My emotions won't help me think straight. If I let myself feel, I just might fall apart. I can't afford to let that happen.
My hands gently grasp the document I’d been working on; a contract revision after a tax analysis that had me stumped for almost half an hour. I stack them neatly, centering every page, making sure none of the edges are folded down.
My hands get a little more steady as I check the paper, one at a time.
By the time I open the drawer to my right and place them in, I've almost shut down. I only have one objective.
I stand. I shrug off my jacket as I drag in a breath that I hold until it hurts. I exhale slowly, strapping my gun against my thigh as I leave the room.
Mid descent down the stairs, I call Daphne. I need to hear her, need to know that at least one of them is still where she's supposed to be; happy.
She picks up quickly. “Hi baby!”
I can hear the cacophony of noise around her and I vaguely wonder what she's doing. “Hi Daphne. I just wanted to check in,” I say, my voice calm.
For a moment I'm worried she'll notice the lack of inflection but it's probably drowned out by the laughter around her. My heart pinches, thinking about what's around Angel.
“I’m doing good, baby,” she squeals. It sounds like she's having fun. “Is that the only reason you called?”
“Yeah,” I rasp. “I just needed to hear your beautiful voice."
“You're just so cute,” she coos.
I force out a chuckle, my mind detaching now that I know she's fine. “Okay, beautiful, let me call you back later.”
She squeals again before she says, “Bye baby.”
I hang up and immediately dial Kiernan, speaking as soon as I hear the line connect.
“That phone I asked you to buy, I need the tracker enabled. And do we have a wielder that can work with scent?”
“Um. . .” He pauses, getting his bearings. I give him a second knowing it's all he needs to get with the program, “I’ll check—”
“I need both. Ten minutes.”
“Sir—” he starts but I cut in. I don't want to hear any excuses, not right now, especially as I know he can do it.
“Ten,” I growl and hang up.
In the kitchen, I sit in the chair she usually prefers, the one that has her back to the fridge, across from me.
My hands fidget, first against each other, then against the dark metal of the bracelet on my wrist. At least it's not beeping, I think, at least he's not having a seizure on top of everything else.
Except they took it off her. . . I hope they didn't. My mind begins to wander, twisting itself in knots about other things they could take off her.
I glance at the clock. Eight minutes.
It's quiet. Anna's not here, out with Jameson I think. That's okay. She need not worry. By the time she gets home, I'll have gotten Angel back. It will be okay. Everything will be okay.
Seven.
I stare at the clock, watching the time tick away. She's okay. She has to be. It hasn't been long. Nothing will happen to her just yet. I'll find her before that.
Five.
And I can't use magic to find her. I can't look into Angel's past because it's not mine. Where she was today is in no way linked to me so there's no thread for me to follow.
The last thing I'll see is Angel leaving my house because that's where our paths last crossed.
Useless!
Four.
I’m still in the chair, still motionless on the outside, while inside my thoughts are tumbling over each other. My breath is becoming too shallow so I force myself to inhale deeper so I don't pass out.
Three.
My phone rings. I snatch it up as soon as the sound registers. “Yes?”
Kiernan’s voice is strained but triumphant. “The wielder is en route to your house, sir. But he’ll be a bit longer than ten minutes, I—”
“And the location?”
I can hear him hitting his keyboard as he replies, “I’m sending the last known GPS ping from the phone to you, sir.”
I pull up the message as it comes. A pinpointed address pops up. It's a little ways away and it's unfortunately familiar. My heart beat speeds up as I look at the words on my screen. It's not anywhere she should be.
This isn't where Ian's chew last saw her, I can bet on it but I type out a quick message just to confirm. ‘Where exactly was Angel when she went missing? Send address now.’
His response comes fast. It's another location from the one Kiernan sent, as I expected. What I don't expect is it being a completely different sector entirely. They moved her fast.
I barely have time to process before my phone lights up again. Kiernan’s calling and I answer before the first ring completes.
“Sir, the address keeps changing. The phone is on the move.”