But she’d heard that name, coming from that strange woman’s lips. No question about it.

The real question was how in the hell could Rafe’s new girlfriend know Gabriel St. John?

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Gabriel picked his way down the narrow alley next to the house on Dauphine Street, tromping through brush and over a random pile of bricks. Ending up behind the house, he assessed the windows and the door. Unlike some of the neighboring houses, this one still had the original wooden pane windows and no evidence of a deadbolt on the door. While not dilapidated, it was easily one of the shabbier houses on the block, paint peeling and various rusted-out pieces of furniture and car parts strewn across the small back courtyard.

Deciding the easiest approach was the door, Gabriel went up the brick step, turned the knob, and shoved, using his immortal strength. The lock gave and the door swung open with a slight squeak. Stepping in, Gabriel paused to get his bearings. This room was a kitchen now. Gabriel couldn’t remember how it had been used in the House of Rest, but it looked like it had been modernized in the eighties. The cabinets were dark, the walls a ruddy yellow, a red fruit-themed wallpaper border hung above the cabinets.

The overall effect was tired and gloomy, the original charm of the transom over the door, the thick moldings, and the wood floor lost under the influence of the drop ceiling and the muted yellow countertops. But someone was obviously in residence, since there was a dirty coffee mug in the sink and a sticky spoon on the countertop.

Moving forward through the kitchen door into the next room, Gabriel saw that a half bathroom had been added in the corner, and the remaining room was being used as an office, a desk and bookcase prominent in it. The house was shotgun style, with the rooms leading off of each other, and no central hallways. When he moved into the front room, he recognized it as the original parlor, where he had entered from the street so many nights all those years ago. At some point it had been painted a mauve color, which offended his artistic sensibilities in the extreme, and the floor was carpeted in a periwinkle blue, but beyond that, the room was unchanged. The fireplace and moldings were intact, and the front windows still had traditional shutters.