Haze by Paula Weston Read Free Book Online Page A

unless she’s at work, and even then we take turns checking on her. I’ve told him Taya’s in town and even that hasn’t swayed him.
    ‘At the very least, he can be here to keep an eye on Mags,’ I say.
    ‘We’ll be gone a few minutes. Maggie will be safe at work and—’
    ‘Jason, do you trust Rafa?’
    ‘This isn’t about trusting him.’
    ‘But do you?’
    The sea breeze carries through the open window, making Jason’s curls sway across his forehead. ‘To a point. But what we need to do, where we need to go…it’s big. I don’t know how he’ll take it, and I don’t trust what he’ll do with the information.’
    All Jason wants is to keep Maggie safe. But as much as Rafa is unpredictable—and has secrets of his own—I can’t keep this from him. He’s annoyed at me enough right now: I don’t want to push him any further. Or push him away.
    And we’re not leaving Maggie alone.
    ‘Gaby, the sooner we do this, the sooner you can look for Jude.’ Jason’s eyes have softened as though he understands the fear I wrestle with every night. I don’t care if he does—there’s no way I’m talking about it.
    ‘I’m not going anywhere until I talk to Rafa.’
    Jason rubs the back of his neck, sighs. ‘I’m not kidding. He’s not going to take this well.’
    ‘He doesn’t take anything well. But he needs to know and he’ll get over it.’
    Rafa’s number rings four times before he answers. ‘What’s up?’ He sounds out of breath.
    ‘Taya’s here.’
    Silence.
    ‘And Jason’s back.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘He needs me to go somewhere with him and—’
    ‘Where are you now?’
    ‘The bungalow.’
    ‘Where does he want to take you?’
    Jason watches me, silhouetted against the sunlit window.
    ‘He won’t say. But I thought—’
    Rafa materialises in the room, wearing grey trackpants and a black singlet, his phone still to his ear. He’s covered in a light sheen of sweat and his hair is messy. He tosses the phone on the table. ‘What now, Goldilocks?’
    ‘You could have finished what you were doing,’ I say. ‘I wasn’t going anywhere.’
    ‘I can throw punches here just as well as in Mexico.’
    Jason gives me a pointed look. ‘Yes, this was a terrific idea.’
    I step between them. ‘Hey.’ I get Rafa’s attention. ‘I’m trying to keep you in the loop here. Don’t make me regret it.’
    He eyes me for a moment, stretches one arm across his chest, then the other. The nick on his shoulder is completely gone. ‘What’s the story?’
    ‘I don’t know yet,’ I say.
    Jason’s fingers are splayed on his hips. He stares down at the faded black and white lino. We wait. Finally, he lets out a deep, defeated sigh.
    ‘There’s a way to keep Mags safe…’ I prompt him.
    He glances at Rafa. ‘There are others who know about the Rephaim. A group of women in America.’
    ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Rafa says.
    Shit. I pull out a chair and sit down. Every time I think I’ve got a handle on Jason…
    ‘I met them in New York, in the summer of 1940—’
    ‘They’ve known about us for seven fucking decades?’
    ‘I was in Central Park,’ Jason says, ignoring Rafa. ‘I’d seen these two women before, watching me. I didn’t think much of it, even when they approached me. But then they said they knew what I was, that they’d received a revelation from God about the Fallen and their offspring. They knew things about me. They knew Nathaniel was in Italy—I quote—“building his army of bastards”.’
    ‘Did they know where the Fallen went?’ Rafa asks. ‘No? Then what did they want?’
    ‘For me to stay away from Nathaniel. They said the Rephaim were an abomination, but if I kept myself from Nathaniel and the others I might be spared when the final judgment came.’
    I look from him to Rafa. Abomination is not the first word that springs to mind. ‘You weren’t kidding about getting mixed messages about religion.’
    A sad smile. ‘They knew about Zarael and the