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"This makes me an accomplice," she said. "I've never done anything illegal in my life. I don't know if I can pull it off."

Sinclair came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. "I won't let you take the blame for any of this if something were to go wrong." His touch sent a chill down her spine, settling in her core.

"It still doesn't make it right."

"No, it doesn't," Gabriel said grievously. "And if it weren't for Imogen, Alex and I wouldn't have you be a part of this at all, except Sin can't go in alone and it requires someone with a knowledge of art."

"It doesn't matter." She sat up straight. "It's actually rather freeing. I've spent my entire life doing what was right and what people expected me to do." A knock at the door stopped her.

"That will be our food," Sin said, going to answer it. Her eyes followed him.

Gabriel put his hand over hers. "I can't grant you absolution, but you don't need to go through the moral dilemma by yourself. We can talk about it."

"Darling, you didn't call to tell me you were back," a beautiful blonde woman said, stepping inside the flat. She kissed Sin on the mouth, her hand settling on his bum, squeezing it. "I saw your car and thought I would stop by." She looked over, catching Charlotte's eye. "Who's she?"

"Now's not a good time, Maurna." Sin stepped out in the hallway along with the woman.

Gabriel and Carmichael had disappeared. She wasn't sure why her heart sank. Of course, Sinclair would have a woman in his life. Men like him weren't single. Their marriage wasn't even real. This would explain why he was so upset at Alex and why he offered to pay for her to live somewhere else. He came back in, shutting the door behind himself. He looked stricken, the color gone from his face. "I'm sorry," he said, trying to pull himself together. He adjusted his tie. Gabriel and Carmichael came from behind the screened wall. Gabriel tilted his head, giving Sin a questioning look.

Someone knocked on the door again. "Sorry." Sin went to answer it. This time it was the food. He paid the delivery boy and set the food on the table.

"I think I'll go shower," Charlie said. The undercurrent in the room had grown tense. It was obvious Gabriel was mad at Sin and had something he wanted to say.

"You need to eat." He went to the kitchen to get plates.

"I will later." She went into the bathroom and turned the water on, though she could hear yelling coming from the other room. "We just need to rescue Imogen," she repeated over and over to herself. She peeled the dressing off her stomach and stepped under the hot stream of water, running the evening's plan over in her mind until she felt comfortable with it. When she was done, she dried off and put her robe back on. Then she went into the bedroom and took the make-up she had purchased out of one of the shopping bags. She dried her hair and applied the mascara and lipstick. Thank goodness the yelling had stopped. She was coming out of the bathroom when Gabriel poked his head in.

"Sinclair said you would need help with your stomach." He held up the ointment.

"I can manage." She refused to look at it today. She couldn't bring herself to feel Sokolov's presence.

"Are you sure?" He took a step in. "I promise I'm no threat."

Her eyes narrowed, looking at him quizzically. "I didn't think you were."

"I mean I took a vow of celibacy," he explained. "Please let me help you."

"Fine." The roll of medical cling form was still on the nightstand. She lay down on the bed as Gabriel came and sat on the edge. He lifted the hem of her robe.

He didn't try to hide the horror on his face and a part of her was glad of his honesty. "I don't want to hurt you."

"It will be fine." She grabbed the duvet cover, anticipating the sting. "Where's Sin?"

"He had some stuff to deal with," he said, unscrewing the lid and squeezing out a large dollop. "He'll meet us at the gallery." His touch was gentle and after the initial burn subsided, she let out the breath she had been holding.

"Why are you still under a vow of celibacy if you're an ex-priest?" she asked.

He gave her a smile. "Like most things, it's complicated." He traced the pattern of the crest, making sure he didn't miss a spot. "It felt right to keep it."

"Punishment?" she asked.

"Very astute," he said. "Nothing quite like Catholic guilt."

"For being an assassin."

He took her hand. "No, I don't kill people. Alex won't let me. I just organize and plan it."

"Ah, the moral dilemma." She could see the sadness in his eyes. "You do understand."

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