Perhaps, Someday

Chapter 1-2

“Excellent,” Zander said, running his hand through his longish, blond hair as he examined the etching. “Our client will be happy to have it back in his possession.” He looked up at Caiden. “The thief has been taken care of?”

Caiden nodded, almost too exhausted to speak. Shifting from himself to the man who, supposedly, was buying the stolen etching, then into the now dead seller, and finally back to himself, had taken a lot out of him. Usually, when that many shifts occurred in a short period of time, he had a chance to rest and rejuvenate. But he knew Zander was anxious to get the etching back to its owner, so he had come straight over from the apartment.

Zander obviously realized that, because he now ordered Caiden to go home.

“When will you need me again?” Caiden asked his elven boss as he stood.

“Not for at least a week. So, get some real R&R. Find someone nice to keep you company, as long as you trust them.” He shot Caiden a grave look.

As if I know anyone like that. Caiden resisted saying so aloud. His personal life was just that—personal. Personal and isolated. It came with the territory, given what he was and what he did.

With his hand on the doorknob, he turned back to say, “Just give me a heads-up. I might decide to take a short vacation.”

“You should. You’ve been working almost nonstop for too long, both in discovering who had the etching and then getting it back—and on the previous job.”

“I’m well aware of that,” Caiden replied sardonically before leaving Zander’s office. As he walked down the long, carpeted hallway to the front door of Zander’s palatial home, he wondered if he really should do as he said, and take a vacation.

Why bother? I’d just spend it watching other people enjoying themselves with their wives, husbands, or lovers. Something I can’t have. He chuckled softly. Maybe I should get a pet. Not a dog. They’re too needy. But a cat? Something to consider, now that I’m finally settled in one location for the foreseeable future.

The rain was over by the time Caiden left the house. The sun had broken through the clouds, making the drops of water on tree leaves and stalks of grass glitter like jewels. He eyed the beauty of the scene with appreciation. It was rare to see something like that in the city these days. In the past—yes. Nowadays…I suppose I should be happy when it does happen.

He considered stopping for something to eat before going home, but decided against it. Half an hour later he walked into his house on the edge of Bayou Sauvage, twenty-five miles east of the heart of New Orleans.

He dropped his jacket on the sofa, then grabbed a beer from the fridge before going out onto the balcony facing the canal. “Home, sweet, home,” he murmured, saluting the vista of the canal and the bayou with his bottle before taking a drink. Storm clouds were gathering again, and the remaining sunlight framed the trees with an eerie starkness. And then the mist rolled in, blotting out the scene. Caiden shivered. It reminded him too much of his home in the highlands that he had left too, too many years ago.

Get a grip. And more to the point, get to bed before I fall on my face.