Painted Blind

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Painted Blind Page 23

by Michelle Hansen


  He backed me into the bedroom, where he gathered me into his arms and kissed me.

  I was so tired of being without him. I wanted to let him lay me down and marry me right there, except it probably wouldn’t count since we were in the mortal world and we didn’t have the pendant.

  Eros, too, seemed complacent about keeping the boundaries between us. His kiss was long and hungry and deep. Standing there, completely lost in him, I didn’t hear Titus approach until he switched on the light.

  “Isn’t that a violation of the contract?” He leaned against the doorpost rubbing his eyes with the ball of his hand. If we had wakened him, he was one light sleeper.

  I spun around. To a mortal, I would have appeared alone in the room, but Titus could see the veiled Eros with his arms around me. “Technically, no.” I forced myself to look in his face. I was supposed to be the master here, not him. “I can’t see Eros, and he never speaks.”

  “Then, how do you know it’s him?”

  “I know.”

  “What if I said it wasn’t him?”

  Eros ran his hand over my hair. He leaned closer and drew his face across my cheek. I smelled his skin and knew the contours of his arms.

  “You’d be lying,” I replied.

  Titus looked past me. “If you need a bed, take mine, but you’re not sharing hers. Let her sleep. Her days are only going to get harder.”

  The arms around me tightened.

  “You, of all people, should want what’s best for her. Let us finish this.”

  My invisible love sighed, and he let me go.

  “NO!” I reached for him, but my fingers found nothing but air.

  Titus was jarred by a passing body and accepted the blow without flinching.

  “Don’t go!” I tried to follow, but Titus caught my arm and held on until the door out of the suite opened and closed. I jerked myself free and pounded a fist into his chest. “Don’t ever send him away from me! He is all I want!”

  Titus shook my shoulders. “Then win your bargain.” He pushed me away. “So you can have him for real, not just these games.”

  Suddenly calm and so angry it turned me cold, I stepped forward. My nose grazed his chin. Though I was no physical threat to him, I felt his body tightening as I overstepped the bounds of his personal space. “Get out,” I said slowly. “I do not take orders from you.”

  Titus backed away, bowing slightly. “Yes, Lady.” He returned to his room and closed the door.

  When he was gone, I found the satellite phone. Eros was programmed into the contact list, so I punched out an angry text.

  I don’t know why you sent him. I don’t like him. I don’t trust him. He’s worse than having my dad around.

  I waited almost an hour, but he didn’t reply. Finally I relented and went to bed. By morning my head was clear. Get the map, finish the task and live with Eros, or die trying. There was no other option.

  In bags near our backpacks, I found clothes intended for me—tough cargo pants, long sleeved undershirts and pretty T-shirts to go over the top. They were nice clothes and I liked them, but I was irritated that they were women’s and fit the contours of my body, especially since I was stuck lugging Titus around everywhere I went. I carefully packed Aphrodite’s box and the rest of my clothes into the metal-framed backpack, so I could leave the duffle bag in the car when we reached the climbing area.

  We ordered breakfast the night before, and it arrived outside the suite promptly at seven o’clock. I had already eaten and was studying the map to the next town when Titus stumbled out of his room. “You’re late,” I said.

  “We aren’t supposed to leave until nine.”

  “I’m leaving now.” I gathered my things and phoned the front desk to have our car brought around. A few minutes later when the bell boys arrived to take our luggage, Titus was eating with one hand and pulling on his shoes with the other.

  Before the elevator closed to take me down, Titus dashed out of the suite with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He caught the elevator door with his hand, and pushed his way inside. “You can’t ditch me that easily.”

  “Oh, that I would be so lucky,” I muttered.

  When we reached the foyer, he stayed a step behind until we passed the doorman. Then Titus sped up and tried to steer me around to the passenger side.

  Instead I went to the valet. “The keys, please?” I held out my hand.

  The valet handed over the keys and wished me good day.

  I climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Titus was gritting his teeth when he climbed in next to me. Ignoring him, I programmed the location of our next lodging into the GPS. There was no way I could navigate the streets of Kathmandu without it.

  “Would you please let me drive?” Titus said as I ground the gears pulling out of the parking lot. Shifting left-handed was harder than I thought it would be.

  “When I get tired, I’ll let you drive.” I put on the blinker and turned left as I was instructed by the navigation system. A car in another lane honked, but let me in. “Why don’t you just crawl into the back seat and disappear?”

  Titus let out an angry breath. “If I thought for one moment that the two of you wouldn’t have completely violated the contract, I would have left you alone.”

  “We’ve been alone dozens of times, Titus, without you babysitting, so just step down from that high, self-righteous horse you’re riding.”

  He turned his face toward the window. It was going to be a very long day stuck in the car together.

  Chapter 23

  There was a single highway from Kathmandu to India, upon which nearly all goods travelled. The term “highway” was generous. It was a narrow, unmarked road that accommodated traffic in both directions without laws of right of way, passing zones or crosswalks. Traffic consisted of everything from busses to hand carts, yaks and burros.

  It took over an hour just to get out of Kathmandu. Unconsciously, I had anticipated a grand exit from the city and the speedometer suddenly climbing the way it does when you pull onto the freeway back home. This did not happen. We were stuck behind one slow-moving truck after another, inching our way west. We might have been faster on foot. When we finally reached a more rural area, I learned that if I honked as I came up behind slower traffic, they would let me through.

  I thought I was driving fast when the speedometer said I was going a hundred, but Titus informed me with a grin that it was only about sixty miles an hour. The road was full of potholes and the pavement was warped. My dad would have harassed me about beating the shocks to death if we had been in my car, but I didn’t care if the old SUV was worse for wear after this trip.

  Titus did finally climb into the back seat and prop his feet up on the window. He fell asleep using our bags as a pillow. Somewhere in his dreams he disappeared, but I could still hear him breathing.

  The GPS signaled me to turn right, but when I arrived at the road, it was little more than a dirt trail. I hit the brakes and felt the unseen body slam into the back of my seat. Awake now, Titus reappeared. “What’s the matter?”

  “I think we’re supposed to turn here, but it doesn’t look like a road.”

  He looked at the navigation system, then pulled out the map. Roads were not clearly marked, and neither were towns for that matter. One looked very much like the next. “I would trust the satellite. It’s only supposed to be thirty miles to the village where we’re staying the night.”

  “You can drive,” I answered. I wasn’t tired; I was starving. After he took the wheel, I found a bag of food and put it in between us on the front seat. The SUV was stuffy. With the windows down we gathered a lot of dust. I pulled my hair back as tightly as possible, but strands still whipped at my face. After peeling an orange, I offered half to my bodyguard.

  He accepted it tentatively. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t good at holding grudges. There was no one else to talk to for the next five days, so it was hard to kee
p ignoring him. “I don’t think we should stop at the next village.”

  The orange gone, he opened a granola bar with his teeth. “Why not?”

  “This schedule says it’s another hundred miles to the village where we’re getting the yak. From there we’re on foot.” I squinted into the sun, which was still high overhead. “There’s no sense wasting an afternoon. We should go as far as we can tonight. It gives us more time to climb.”

  “You’re the boss. I can’t guarantee suitable lodging if you skip the village. You may end up in a barn with livestock.”

  “We’ve got camping gear. If worse comes to worse, we just pitch our tents.” I was more concerned about finding suitable food. Would the villagers feed a couple of strangers a hot meal? I doubted there was going to be a restaurant, and I was getting tired of fruit and packaged snacks.

  The road worsened with every mile, until I was clutching the window frame to keep from having my brain jarred loose. Titus navigated the rocky terrain well, and since he had spent more time in Europe, he was better with the left-handed gear shift. In all honesty, we probably would have made better time if I’d let him drive the whole way, but I would not admit it to him.

  We were way beyond the popular tourist areas, and we were climbing fast. Steep, jagged peaks rose all around us. The road meandered between them. Outside the temperature dropped rapidly. Whereas in the city and on the lower roads, it had been warm, now the air carried a chill. Soon we would be in the lands of eternal winter.

  The village, where we were supposed to stay, was made up of nearly a hundred buildings, mostly built of stone and mortar. The road cut right through a valley, and the town rose up in terraced steps on either side. We stopped for gas, which I wasn’t sure we’d find. However, the village needed supplies, and the delivery trucks needed gas, so we did manage to find a working fuel pump. While I paid for gas, I sent Titus for food. If we could at least find some fresh vegetables and meat, we could build a cooking fire at the next stop.

  He returned looking triumphant. “Fresh meat from the butcher,” he announced. “And vegetables from the market.”

  “What kind of meat?” I eyed the package suspiciously. It was wrapped in newspaper.

  “I didn’t ask. It’s red, though, so I figured you’d like it.” He eyed one of the taller buildings longingly. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”

  “It’s only two o’clock in the afternoon. We should keep moving.”

  He packed the food with our other supplies then climbed into the driver’s seat.

  I was probably making a mistake. Eros’s men scouted the area and decided we should stay here, but Eros would also break up the journey as much as possible. I wanted to make sure we had plenty of time once we reached the mountain.

  The road narrowed terribly. In places I wasn’t sure we could pass between the jagged mountain walls, but Titus kept going while I held my breath. Eventually we passed into a wider valley, where the shrubbery had lost its leaves, and the grass was spotted with snow. Trees became scarce.

  “Can we get there before dark?” I asked.

  “I’ll do my best,” Titus replied. The road was pocked and rough, but he kept us climbing. Fortunately, it had been awhile since the last snow, so the roadway was partially clear.

  We rounded a sharp corner with the SUV hugging the mountain wall. On my side the rocks fell away into oblivion. I gasped without meaning to and buried my face in the seatback.

  Titus threw me a momentary glance. “Are you…? You’re afraid of heights?”

  That one glance over the cliff made me nauseous. I turned my eyes toward him and the nice, solid mountain on his side. “Yeah.”

  “Great,” he replied flatly.

  “I can climb. I just can’t look down.”

  The road bounced us a few inches closer to the cliff, and I grabbed Titus’s arm. He told me to put my head down and close my eyes. “I’ll tell you when we get there.”

  I did as I was told because I was too terrified to pretend I could sit there like a normal person. I climbed into the back seat, ducked below the windows and closed my eyes.

  “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, you’re going to miss the ball.” Titus shook my shoulder.

  I sat up. We were stopped. There were streaks of daylight in the distant sky, but mountains on all sides blocked the rays. “We made it?” Here, at least, it felt like December. Ice was caked into the hubs of the SUV, and my breath showed in white puffs as I climbed out of the SUV and pulled on my parka.

  “Only one person in town speaks English. He told me there is a small inn at the edge of town. We’re lucky. It has indoor plumbing.”

  “And the yaks?”

  Titus chuckled. “They’re everywhere.” Opening the back, he offered me a backpack, which I pulled onto my shoulders. He shouldered the other one, and we each carried a bag of food. “Ah, there is one thing.”

  “What?”

  “We have to share a room.”

  “They don’t have two rooms?” I doubted the inn was hosting many guests this time of year.

  “They have rooms, but only one comes with beds. It has two cots. There is a toilet and sink in a partitioned corner. It’s primitive, but at least there is a fireplace and plenty of firewood.”

  “Fine.” I threw him a glance. “If you behave. You are a man, after all.”

  At this he laughed. “I’m not the reason I made you lock the door.” We reached the inn, and Titus opened the door to our room.

  Primitive was putting it mildly. The room had stone walls and a dirt floor. The window had a single thin pane and would have drafted terribly if it hadn’t been shuttered from the outside. One thing in the room made up for its other deficiencies. There was a black kettle on a swing arm over the fireplace. As soon as we had a fire blazing, we dumped our meat into the kettle and let it brown before adding vegetables and two bottles of water.

  Titus dug through the rest of our supplies trying to see if there was something else to flavor our stew. He made a stack of plastic bags which held foil pouches.

  “Hey,” I said, recognizing the MRE packets we were carrying for our climb, “those packages should have salt and utensils. Each meal has one.”

  “You’ve eaten these before?”

  “My dad used to take me camping.” One night when a storm hit before we could get a solid fire going, we were stuck in the tent with no way to heat the packets. Dad told me to put it in my armpit. When I refused, he offered to put it in his. I couldn’t help cracking a smile at the memory. Even at nine, I preferred a cold dinner to one that had been in an armpit. “You’ll hate the spaghetti,” I told Titus. “You’d better stick with the beef stroganoff or chicken and vegetables.” I took one of the packages and opened the plastic wrapper. It contained a foil pouch, fork and salt packet. “They don’t need salt. There’s enough sodium in these things to give you high-blood pressure.” I opened three more packages and poured the salt into our soup, then repacked the MREs into the backpack.

  Titus looked at me curiously. “So, you’re used to roughing it, but you’re afraid of heights?” When I nodded, he chuckled and shook his head, “And I can climb just about anything…”

  “…but you’re used to a palace,” I finished for him. “Well, if the cot gives you fleas, I’ll take you to a vet.”

  Now there was serious alarm in his eyes. “Maybe the floor is better.”

  “Oh, I seriously doubt that. Who knows what crawls around here at night?”

  He shivered visibly. “Fleas,” he muttered to himself.

  “Just put your sleeping bag down. You’ll be fine.”

  We lit a kerosene lamp and spread our travel papers on a cot. The itinerary said we were supposed to set up a base camp in a valley at roughly 10,000 feet. It was our destination tomorrow. We could take the yak that far. A villager would walk with us to the location and bring the yak back down.

  “It’s not going to take us all day to set up camp. Why is that the only thing on the itinerary fo
r tomorrow?”

  “We have to acclimate,” Titus replied. “The instructions are very specific on this point. We need to spend an entire day and night at the base camp before moving on.”

  I found a climbing pamphlet among the papers. It was government issued and in English. “It looks like we can still have a campfire at base camp if we haul in our own wood.” That was good news. The best thing about camping was getting warm by the fire.

  We were carrying three tents. The largest was for base camp. It was large enough to sleep six and had two zip-down partitions. That way Titus and I could share a single tent and have separate rooms. The two lighter tents were for higher elevations. They were small, but tough. If a storm hit while we were on the face of the mountain, winds could gust over seventy miles an hour, and the temperature could easily drop to thirty below zero. Up there we would not have a fire. There was no dry ground upon which to build one, and it was too dangerous to build a fire on a glacier. We might have carried a kerosene stove, but we were traveling light from the base camp up. We had a small, battery-operated pot to boil water. This we would use to heat our food. Above base camp was a leave no trace area. That meant that everything we carried in, we had to carry out.

  We counted our food packets and rationed them out, so we knew we would have enough without digging into our packs later to check. Eros had equipped us well. Most of our meals had a full MRE entrée, side dish and dessert, each packaged separately. Titus and I decided to stash the side dishes and desserts into the outer pockets of the packs in case we wanted them for snacks or light meals during the day. We also had dried fruit, nuts, jerky, water bottles and lots of energy drink powder.

  By the time we packed it all away, even Titus was satisfied that we both had the maps memorized. Our GPS system would help us to stay on the trail, but if it failed, we knew the way.

  The last item I repacked was the wooden box. Titus noticed it, and ran his finger over the carved rose. “This is what you’re taking to the messenger?”

  “Yes. At the final destination, a woman will have the key.” I turned the box around so he could see the gold lock.

 

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