Free Ghosts of War by George Mann Page A

sign of the raptors, but in the end had been disappointed. He'd stopped a petty thief from getting away with a shopkeeper's takings around midnight, but other than that the streets had seemed unusually quiet. He supposed Commissioner Montague's advice to remain indoors must have been taken to heart.
    Still, he was here now, and he wasn't about to miss out on one of Henry's famous breakfasts. He descended the stairs, listening to the banter coming from the breakfast room. It sounded like Ginny was in good spirits, and Henry was clearly taken with her, just as he had been three years ago when she'd been around all the time, the life and soul of the party.
    Gabriel crossed the hall and then, keen not to make too much of an entrance, walked straight into the breakfast room and dropped into a chair at the table, opposite Ginny. “I don't suppose there're any more of those eggs going spare, Henry?” He beamed up at his old friend, who was standing just to the left of Ginny, dressed in his usual immaculate black suit. “And perhaps a side of toast?”
    Henry turned to stare at him, a startled expression on his old, careworn face. This soon gave way to a warm smile, however, and he inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Good morning, sir. I'd be only too pleased to rustle something up.” He offered Ginny a short, polite bow and then turned and strode off in the direction of the kitchen. Clearly, Gabriel thought, Henry hadn't realized that he'd slipped in during the early hours, and hadn't seen the car parked around the back.
    He turned to Ginny, who was leaning back in her chair, a wide grin on her face. She looked perfectly groomed, even for this time in the morning. Her hair was set in a smart bob, and she peered out at him from beneath a severe, but not unattractive, fringe. She was wearing a pink dress that revealed the tops of her arms. It wasn't the same dress she'd been sleeping in the previous night when he'd discovered her on his bed, so, he realized, she must have brought a bag. Sly old Henry, inviting her to spend the night. Gabriel wondered what she'd told him. She was still grinning. “What is it? Why are you grinning like that?”
    Ginny emitted a heartfelt laugh and reached for the bloody mary on the table. It was her second of the day—he could tell by the empty glass that Henry had forgotten to clear away in his haste. “I knew it!” she exclaimed, taking a long swig of the drink. “I just knew you'd come back to the house last night!”
    Gabriel frowned. Was he really that predictable?
    “Why didn't you wake me?” she asked, as if she already knew the answer and was wondering what he would say. She placed her drink back on the table and leaned forward, listening intently.
    “I found you asleep on my bed. So I did the gentlemanly thing and slept in the guest room.”
    Ginny laughed again, and her blue eyes flashed with amusement. “Oh, Gabriel,” her shoulders slumped in mock disappointment, “I didn't want you to be a gentleman.”
    Gabriel felt himself flush red. He didn't know quite what to say. Thankfully, Ginny stepped in and saved him. “So, how about it?”
    “How about what?” For a moment he wondered if she was getting at…
    “A party, of course! Just like the old times. You know, everyone drunk and dancing and raising cahoots. It'll be fun! What d'ya say?” She seemed so excited by the idea that he didn't have the heart to say no. And, besides, he was relieved the subject had moved on from their bedroom arrangements.
    “All right, Ginny. We'll have a party. Tonight, if you like. But first—you still haven't told me why you came back.” His head was spinning with all the questions he wanted to ask her, but this seemed like the most important place to start.
    Ginny snatched up her bloody mary. “Well…I…” She was saved by the reappearance of Henry, who shuffled into the room bearing two silver platters, each containing a plate heaped with eggs, bacon, and slices of