Read Online Eve of Destruction by S. J. Day - Free Book Online

them separate?”
    “Feel free to help,” Eve retorted.
    Gadara entered the dining room from the adjacent kitchen. He carried a fresh-from-the-oven pan of lasagna—without the safety of gloves.
    Glaring at Eve, Laurel tossed her strawberry-blond hair over her shoulder with a practiced flick of her wrist. She was in her early twenties, her skin freckled in a becoming way, her eyes a pretty cornflower blue. She was a couple of inches taller than Eve, slightly more slender and less athletic, and gifted with the ability to complain about nearly everything. Eve had no idea how that proclivity had gone over in her homeland of New Zealand. Here in America, Laurel’s charming accent softened the annoyance factor some. She was one of the classmates Eve wondered about. What could Laurel have done to end up marked? Her self-preoccupation was annoying, but otherwise she struck Eve as innocuous enough. And she seemed like the type who needed a lot of friends, not a loner.
    Gadara looked at Eve with a questioning glance and she shook her head, silently telling him not to worry about it. She was having a hard time adjusting to the new image of the archangel she was forming. Before she’d been marked, she had held Gadara in high esteem for his secular talents. Donald Trump aspired to be Raguel Gadara when he grew up. As an interior designer, Eve had applied to Gadara Enterprises for a job, hoping to be a part of the redesign of his Mondego Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. Now, she was working with him—just not in a way she could ever have imagined.
    Of course, their association wasn’t happenstance. Alec swore nothing was a coincidence and everything followed a divine plan. If that was true, the lossof her virginity to Cain and her subsequent marking had both simply been a matter of time. Therefore, working for Gadara had also been inevitable.
    To her, the whole thing was wack.
    Richens appeared from the kitchen. He skirted Gadara and set a plate of store-bought garlic bread on the table. “I’m starved. Let’s eat.”
    “Who will say grace?” Gadara looked at Eve.
    Her brow arched.
    “I will.” Claire stood, towering over the table.
    The Frenchwoman’s brown hair was super short and looked as if she had cut it herself. Her skin was porcelain perfect, her lashes thick and dark behind cute black-framed glasses that were worn for aesthetic reasons only—the mark cured myopia and every other imperfection. She was so beautiful it was hard not to stare, yet she didn’t pay much mind to her looks. She wore no makeup or hair products. However, she did have a weakness for clothes. For this short trip, she had brought a duffel almost as big as she was.
    The moment the short prayer was finished, the group settled elbow-to-elbow at the makeshift table and began passing the food around. It wasn’t gourmet cuisine, but it was still pretty good. For a while, everyone was too busy shoveling food to talk—sating the need to refuel often and in large quantities—then excited discussion about the week’s upcoming events kicked into high gear.
    Eve ate mechanically, feeling disconnected from the boisterous atmosphere by a fuzzy sensation shecalled a “brain cloud.” She felt as if she was coming down with a nasty cold. She was exhausted and suspected she was running a mild fever. Since the mark prevented illness, she was more than a little concerned. As soon as she had a moment alone, she planned to call Alec about it. She didn’t feel like discussing any weakness in front of the others.
    “So what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?” Ken asked, always ready to leap in headfirst.
    “My training plans are a closely guarded secret, Mr. Callaghan,” Gadara said, smiling. “Besides, in actual field conditions you will have to think on your feet.”
    “What should we do to prepare?” Eve asked.
    “Dress in layers. It is chilly in the morning here and depending on how well you progress tomorrow, we may be out until evening.”
    “That is