Mosaic

by Sarah Fine

  “It’s not that simple,” he said gently.

  “But we’re good together. You’ve said it yourself.”

  He gave me a rueful smile. “We’re the best, baby. But I can’t stand it. I need some distance.”

  “I’m sorry for what I said last night, okay?” I blurted out, loud enough that a passing couple gave us a look. “I was such a jerk about what happened, and you were free to do whatever you wanted! You always have been!”

  “I know.” He closed the distance between us. “But that’s the thing. You’ve changed what I want. You’ve changed everything.”

  I blinked up at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I told you that you could take as long as you wanted to figure this out. I thought it would get easier. I’ve never been more wrong about anything.”

  “You mean, you and me?” I whispered.

  “I know you feel something for me.” His gaze was steady on mine. “But I also know I’m not exactly the man of your dreams.”

  He was right. But my dreams were far less interesting than he was. “What do you want from me, Asa? I don’t think I’m being deliberately stupid when I say I have no idea.”

  He gave me a wary look. “You trust me with your body. Your safety. Your sanity. Your life.”

  “You know I do.”

  “But you won’t trust me with your heart.”

  I took a step back. “You want me to?”

  He chuckled. “The things I want from you . . .” He shook his head. “But I won’t play, Mattie. Not with you. I blew past that exit months ago.”

  “My heart is a responsibility, Asa. After Ben . . . you can’t blame me for being careful.”

  “No, I can’t. But you can’t blame me for being honest. You asked what I wanted. And I just told you.”

  “I don’t know if I can offer that,” I said. “I know you have some needs—”

  “I didn’t fuck that couple in Prague.” He rolled his eyes. “I was going to, okay? I was dead set on it.” He let out a frustrated noise and ran his hands through his hair. “I was so on fire that I could barely think. I picked her because she reminded me the tiniest bit of you, and her boyfriend . . . well.” He glanced at me as if trying to gauge my reaction. “Once we got into the room, though, suddenly all the ways she wasn’t you were right there in my face, and the guy was hot, but it was all wrong. I needed something, though, so they fucked while I watched. While I told them what to do. I got off and so did they, and then they left.” His jaw was rigid as he lifted his gaze to my face. “I’m not apologizing for it.”

  “I didn’t ask you to,” I said quietly. It was far kinkier than anything I’d ever experienced, but it felt strangely better to know he hadn’t let them touch his body, that he hadn’t been inside either of them. I let out a shaky breath. “But you scare me, Asa. You always have.”

  “I get it.” He looked away from me, his eyes wide but unfocused. “I didn’t honestly expect you to feel anything different when shit got real.”

  Giving this thing between us a chance might break my heart. But letting him leave, knowing I hadn’t taken a chance at all, was definitely going to break my heart. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “But you did once say I was brave as hell.”

  His head swung around fast, surprise etched on his face. I reached out, my fingers closing around the sleeve of his coat. “If you want to leave—if that’s what’s best for you—I won’t try to stop you. So I’ll only say this once.” I looked up at his angles and planes, the face I had come to adore.

  The man I had come to love.

  “I’ve tried to keep my distance, Asa, but not because I’ve been burying my head in the sand about how I felt. I’m just keenly aware of how much you could hurt me. More every day. What if I can’t . . . I don’t know what you want. I don’t know if I’m enough. We’ve been all over the world, but like you always said, I’m just this girl from a small town. And I still don’t know how to make you happy.”

  “Why don’t you ask me, Mattie?” He looked down at my fingers clutched over his sleeve. “It’s not something you have to figure out by yourself. That kind of defeats the point.”

  “The point?”

  He stroked his thumb across my cheek. “Of being together.”

  My other hand rose to his chest as he slid his arm around my waist. “It feels complicated.”

  “Because it is. So I guess you have to decide whether it’s worth it. Whether I’m worth it.”

  “You’ve already decided?”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You have no idea what you are to me, do you?”

  “You could tell me.”

  His phone chimed. “Maybe I will. After our meeting with Myron.” He pulled me close. “Then you’re gonna do the same. And after that we’re going to decide what to do, together. Deal?”

  I touched his cheek. He had shaved, and his skin was smooth and chilled beneath my fingertips. “Deal.”

  He bowed his head as I stood on my tiptoes, and our kiss was careful, like we held something incredibly fragile between us. We both pulled away at the same time. “Ready to rock?” he asked.

  “Ready to roll.” I bit my lip to hold in my grin as he took my hand. I hoped Myron Forester was a timely fellow, and that this meeting was short. Because all I wanted to do was go back to the hotel and start figuring things out. Together.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Harrods on Christmas Eve doesn’t feel all that festive when you’re planning to meet up with a criminal,” I mused as we approached the massive building glistening with lights.

  Asa snorted. “You know you’re technically a criminal, too, right?”

  “But I’m a nice criminal.”

  “I could think of a few people who might disagree with you.” His smile was sly. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Probably because you’re the one who corrupted me in the first place.”

  He laughed. “Uh-uh. Own it. You’re the one who chased me and begged to come along.”

  I squeezed his hand. “Only because you tempted me.”

  His grin was as bright as any of the displays as we crossed the street and approached the department store. It was five to nine, almost closing time, and more people were coming out than going in. Asa always chose crowded places for his meets because if there were naturals, he could sense them easily. He also preferred places where we could melt into the crowd or raise a ruckus and cause enough distraction to slow down pursuers. We walked into the store and past the perfume counter, right up to a man who was examining a display of cashmere scarves.

  “Myron,” Asa said.

  The man looked up, still sliding camel-colored fabric between his long fingers. He looked about Asa’s age, with thick brown hair, a short, neatly trimmed beard, and deep-green eyes. “Mr. Ward, I presume?” His accent was pure Brit. “And . . .” He arched an eyebrow as he looked me over.

  “This is Mattie. My reliquary.”

  “Your reliquary.”

  That was when I realized I was still holding Asa’s hand. I let go and offered my hand to Myron. “Nice to meet you.”

  He gave me a little smile and took my hand, just as I remembered the dude was a Knedas. I curled my toes hard against the bristles in my shoe. “Charmed,” he said quietly.

  Then he turned to offer his hand to Asa, but Asa simply stood there. “No, thanks.”

  Instead of looking offended, Myron chuckled. “Understood. We’re on the same side, though. Madam wants this magic safely off-loaded and packaged. She wants you to be comfortable with the terms.”

  Asa looked around. “Where’s the conduit?”

  “I wanted to meet you first. She is waiting in luxury home goods upstairs.”

  I eyed the lady behind the perfume counter, who was putting away samples. “Aren’t they closing soon?”

  “Ah, yes. But we’ll be out before they lock up, and while we’re here, they won’t take notice of us.”

  I ground my toes even ha
rder against the bristles, relishing the pain. He’d basically just told us he was manipulating the employees with his magic. I glanced up at Asa, who was starting to sweat. “Let’s roll, then,” he said in a tight voice. “We have plans tonight.”

  Myron gestured toward the escalator just as the lights in one of the sections of the store went dim. I glanced at the clock on the wall—it was nine. “I must tell you, Asa, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. My employer is also very interested in your skills. She has authorized me to offer you an arrangement.”

  “I’m freelance only,” Asa said. “So don’t bother.”

  Myron shrugged. “I will convey the message. She will be . . . disappointed.”

  “Let her take a hit off the magic Mattie’s carrying, and I promise she’ll feel better.”

  The Knedas laughed, his smile all straight white teeth. “Well, she has other plans for it, but now I’m intrigued.”

  We reached the top of the escalator and turned toward the home goods department, but we hadn’t made it two steps when Asa grabbed my hand and pulled me back. “What the fuck.”

  Myron turned, his brow furrowed. “What is it?”

  “Naturals,” Asa said, his teeth gritting, his voice low, his gaze darting first to the linens section, then to the luggage displays, and finally to the appliance area. “What the fuck are you playing at?”

  Myron’s eyes went wide. “What?” he whispered. “Nothing!” He looked around, his hand straying beneath his coat, probably reaching for a weapon.

  “They aren’t yours?” I asked.

  Myron backtracked toward the escalators. “Absolutely not. Let’s go.”

  Asa cursed and bundled me toward the down escalator, but then dragged me back. “More down there. You don’t have backup tonight?” he snapped at Myron.

  “No, we wanted to keep the meet from triggering the interest of rival agents,” Myron replied as he jumped on the escalator to the third level.

  “Looks like you failed.”

  “Is it Volodya’s people?” I asked, my voice squeaky with fear.

  “Probably.”

  “I know this place well, though,” said Myron, breathing hard. “There’s a way out. You just keep telling me what you sense.”

  We ran up the escalator. Asa muttered a constant stream of curses as we followed Myron past darkened restaurants and cheerful holiday displays. The Knedas pointed toward an employees-only hallway. “Feel anything this way?”

  “No. All clear,” Asa said, glancing behind him. “We’re getting some distance.”

  “Maybe they didn’t spot us,” I asked. Asa didn’t respond, but he gave me a worried look. I squeezed his hand.

  “We can get out this way—there’s a special staircase,” Myron said as he reached a door marked “Helipad.”

  Asa paused as Myron opened the door and went through. “You’re sure?”

  “Feel free to head down the way you came,” said Myron as he jogged up the steps. “But I know when I’m outnumbered, and I plan to celebrate Christmas with cold champagne and a hot woman who I will not keep waiting.”

  We followed Myron up the steps and burst into the cold night air. “It’s this way,” Myron called as he sprinted across the concrete toward another door marked “VIP.”

  Asa wrenched me to a stop just as five men and women stepped through the VIP door. We spun around to see another five come through the door we’d just exited. I let out a scared whimper as the two groups surrounded us, a few of them wearing Harrods name tags on their lapels.

  Asa drew his baton and extended it, then reached in his pocket and pulled out a squirt gun, which he handed to me. “Sensilo,” he whispered.

  I clutched it in my shaking hand. Myron drew a Taser. “None of you wants to hurt us,” he said loudly and slowly. “You’ll let us go.”

  “Nice try,” said a man with a deep, raspy voice. “But we know who you are. We’re only here for these two, though.” He gestured at me and Asa.

  Myron and Asa exchanged looks, and the two men squared their shoulders. “Bring it on, then,” Asa said. Though sweat was pouring off him, he didn’t sound the slightest bit nervous, and it reminded me of how he’d calmly taken down that gun-toting mercenary in Atlanta, and then felled Jack, the conduit who wanted to arrest him, a few minutes later. The memory calmed my fear as the agents came closer. None of them had pulled a gun or Taser, which seemed like a good sign.

  As one fished two pairs of handcuffs from his jacket pocket, Asa struck. He pushed a button at the end of his baton and swung it, even though he was still ten feet away from the oncoming agents. Oily liquid arced from the length of the weapon and splattered our assailants. Several of them screamed and fell backward, clawing at their eyes. Asa whirled and did it again to the agents who were blocking the door we’d just come through, downing all but two.

  “Run,” Asa shouted to me as he slammed the baton into one agent’s legs. “Myron, get her away from here!”

  Myron aimed his Taser and hit the remaining agent, and the woman went stiff and fell forward. Then he yanked the barbs from her chest and murmured something in her ear before sprinting toward me. Asa was locked in battle with an agent who had also drawn a baton, a guy who wouldn’t go down even though his face was ashen with pain from the Strikon juice Asa had splashed on everyone. Myron’s hand closed around my arm just as I watched one of the fallen agents rise to her feet and draw what looked like a small rifle from inside her long coat.

  “Asa, she’s got a gun!” I screamed. I ran forward, raising my own little squirt pistol, only to be yanked backward by Myron. The tiny weapon clattered to the concrete as he hauled me away while Asa struggled with the guy with the baton.

  I watched, helpless, as the female agent pulled the trigger. Asa flinched and staggered. I shrieked with fear as Myron threw his arm around my middle and dragged me backward, my heels skimming the ground, tearing the shoes from my feet. Instead of falling, Asa merely braced his palms on his knees while the man he’d been fighting with stepped back. And as Asa hung his head, I could see the small dart that had embedded itself in his shoulder.

  “Mattie,” he said in a ragged voice, taking a few faltering steps toward me.

  “Let me go,” I screamed at Myron as the female agent took aim at Asa once more.

  “I can get you out,” the Knedas said.

  “No! We’re not leaving him.”

  Asa straightened just as the dart gun sounded off with three more sharp clicks. He flinched again, and the baton dropped from his limp hand. As Myron kicked a half-blinded agent away from us and wrenched the door to the stairwell open, Asa raised his head and his eyes found mine. He gave me this dopey, sweet smile as he sank to his knees, and the two agents closed in. I fought against Myron with everything I had, clawing at him as my ears filled with an insistent thumping. A bright light and swirling wind drew my gaze to a helicopter that was dropping steadily from the sky as the two agents dragged Asa, unresisting, out of the way.

  “We have to go, Mattie! He wanted you to get out!” Myron pulled me through the doorway and let it slam behind us. “There’s nothing you can do right now. There is nothing you can do! Stop fighting me!”

  He was right. There was nothing I could do. Mutely, tears running down my face, I let Myron pull me down the stairs and back into the store, then down the two escalators and out the front. My bare feet slapped against the smooth floors, and my heart skittered and tapped with a new, broken rhythm. We burst back into the cold and stopped on the sidewalk as the helicopter roared over our heads and soared into the night. “Asa!” I screamed.

  “I’m so sorry, Mattie. I’m so sorry,” Myron said between breaths, his arm still around me even though his grip had loosened. “I’m so very sorry.”

  “Who were they?” I demanded, pulling away from his touch as I realized he had used his magic on me to get me down the stairs.

  “I don’t know.” He leaned against a store window, his lean silhouette framed by flashing Christ
mas lights. “But we’ll find out.”

  “How could you let this happen?” My voice cracked over my rage and fear, even as my body buzzed with numb disbelief. A few minutes ago, we’d been fine. We’d been together. And now, in the space of a few moments, Asa had been taken. He was gone.

  “How could you let this happen?” I roared, stumbling forward and slamming my palms into Myron’s chest before staggering back. My legs gave out, and I plopped to the sidewalk in an awkward sprawl, drawing concerned looks from a few pedestrians, who crossed the street to avoid us. Sobs rolled out of me as I braced my palms on the cold ground.

  “We should really get off the street,” Myron said quietly. “This isn’t safe. Just because they have him doesn’t mean they won’t come for you. Especially because you’re carrying—”

  “I know.” I had no idea what to do. I was so used to Asa being my backup, my safety net. And he. Was. Gone. “I know,” I whispered.

  “Mattie, let me get you to safety. It’s clearly what Asa wanted. He sacrificed himself so you could—”

  “Shut up,” I said, tears streaking down my cheeks. “You stopped me from helping him.”

  “He told me to get you out!”

  “Of course he did,” I shouted hoarsely. “That didn’t mean you had to listen! He’s not a stupid Knedas like you are. He’s just . . . he’s just . . .” I bowed my head as my chest heaved with sorrow.

  “Can you walk?” Myron asked gently. When I didn’t answer, he slid his arms beneath mine and lifted me from the ground.

  I wrenched myself away from him and bounced off another festively lit window. “Keep your hands off me,” I snarled. “And while you’re at it, keep your stupid magic vibes off me, too.”

  He let out an impatient sigh. “This way. We’ll take the tube. You can’t go back to your hotel. I’m sure it’s being watched.”

  I glared at him, even as indecision bled through me. “And where exactly do you want to take me?”

  “My employer has several guesthouses for visiting dealers, conduits, and reliquaries. Security is good. I’m taking you to one in Kensington.”

  “What if I want to leave?”