by Sonya Clark
The boulevard opened up into a wide plaza with a large fountain in the center. People flocked around it as if watching something but Eve couldn’t tell what. The Alte Oper was a stunning classical edifice with a statue of Pegasus on the apex of the roof. She wanted to examine it closer but didn’t want to lose Knox in the crowd. He pulled her closer to the fountain until they’d worked their way through the throng to the front.
Eve’s jaw dropped at her first look at what was in the fountain. A large brown bear played in the water, leashed and tended by three costumed handlers. Cameras clicked, the crowd talking excitedly and applauding as the bear splashed. Eve and Knox watched for several minutes before moving on to make room for a family with children.
Pointing at a sign that hung at the front of the Alte Oper Knox said, “There’s a circus performing tonight. Guess they decided to take the bear out for a stroll.”
“Maybe he got hot in his fur coat.” She smiled, wishing she’d brought a camera. The distraction didn’t last though. She stepped closer so he could hear her over the noise in the plaza. “Knox, you can’t possibly need the money. Why do you want to sell the Key? You know how dangerous it is.”
“I don’t have a dime of the Delafield money and I don’t need it. This isn’t about money, at least not for me.” He scanned the crowd, the angles of his face suddenly severe. “I know what Gran’s will said. She wanted me to deliver the Key to Bradbury.” He looked at Eve, raising a hand to her cheek but not quite touching. “She trusted me. Can you?”
Eve had trusted Rebecca, and because of that she trusted the people at Bradbury. Could she extend the same trust to Knox even though she didn’t understand what he was doing? For the first time she doubted her decision to be a part of this, no matter what she got out of it. Would learning more about her ability really be worth all this? Being around people she didn’t need to hide from, who didn’t think she was a freak – was it worth it?
“I don’t know,” she said, not sure if she was answering his question or her own. “Chet’s here. I wish you would talk to him.”
“Somebody’s following me. I thought I lost them but they picked up my trail again. I’ll see you at the party tonight.”
She looked around, slightly panicked. Every warning about all the dangerous people that might pursue the Key of Darkness flooded her memory. “What, you’re leaving?”
“Save me a dance,” he called over his shoulder with a grin as he sped away, melting into the crowd.
A deflated Eve made her way back up the Zeil. She felt reasonably confident she could find her way back to the apartment. She retrieved the map from her bag just in case. Someone bumped into her from behind, the paper slipping from her hand. Eve bent to pick it up. A man stepped in front of her, legs draped in the finely tailored pants of an expensive suit. Instinct sounded a warning, but there was nowhere to go and no one to call for help. Gritting her teeth, she clasped the map tightly in one hand. As she rose sunlight glinted off the black stone of a ring on the middle finger of his right hand, catching her eye.
“Well, look at you,” he said. Thick, wavy black hair framed an olive-skinned face too arrogant to be handsome. His full lips twisted into an approximation of a smile, dark heavy-lidded eyes regarding her with an almost obscene level of appraisal, as if his gaze could burn right through her clothing. “Looks like the younger Delafield not only has bigger balls than his old man but better taste too.”
Eve laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep inside where panic and hysteria slumbered. She glanced around, hoping to see polizei or someone that looked likely to help. There was no one. She might as well have been invisible in this crowd. So she did the only thing she could think of – she ran.
Chapter 16
Eve didn’t get far before a crowd halted her progress. The man caught up with her quickly, his thick fingers biting into the flesh of her arm as he grabbed her from behind.
“Now, now, what’s with this running away?” He spoke with an accent she didn’t recognize. Not quite English, perhaps close to something Slavic. “I just want to chat.”
“Then let go of me!” Eve tried to pull her arm away but couldn’t. He dragged her through the crowded boulevard as if leading a recalcitrant child. The only thing that kept her from panicking was the number of people present – surely this man wouldn’t hurt her in front of so many possible witnesses. She struggled to keep up so she wouldn’t lose her footing, trying to figure out what to say or do to scare him off. He didn’t seem like the type to scare easily. Reasoning with him didn’t look likely either.
She was definitely going to have to talk to Chet about a cell phone. Or a panic button.
They swerved into an alley, the man pulling her toward the back of a building. As the crowd noise ebbed Eve felt the first stirrings of fear. He swung her around and pushed her against a brick wall, his right hand bracketing her throat.
“Now I’m going to ask you some questions and you’re going to answer them. Let’s start with your name.”
Eve coughed, pulling against his hand to no avail. “No.”
He relaxed his grip but somehow her throat felt tighter, as if squeezed just a bit harder. “What did you and Knox Delafield talk about?”
“None of your business.” It was a struggle but she got the words out. She beat her fist against the hand that held her, one knuckle sliding across the cold surface of his black diamond ring.
It barely counted as a touch, but it was enough to fill her mind with a barrage of images and impressions. Dark red light danced with the golden glow of candle flames. Heavy incense and low chanting snaked through the air. Fragments of a face filled her vision, the whole obscured by shadows. Blond hair framing pale skin, knife-edge cheekbones, blue chips of ice for eyes, full lips with a reddish tint. A sense of the man’s presence filled her, glittering and cold like glacial ice. Eve shivered, grasping at the shielding techniques Jean-Pierre had taught her. The ring was too strong, its energy too overpowering for what little training she had. Darkness beckoned at the edge of her consciousness.
Stay awake, stay awake, stay awake. If she passed out she would be completely vulnerable. But the blackness encroached and Eve reached for the ice instead. It burned, searing through her like a brand.
Barely aware of what she was doing, she reached for the hand that held her throat. Hot and cold poured from her palm. The dark man cried out, yanking his hand back. Shaking his right hand, he raised his left and slapped her across the face, sending her head snapping against the wall.
The blackness took her.
****
Pete forced his way through the crowd, frantically searching for Eve and the man who dragged her off. He cursed himself for following her too far away, cursed himself for following Chet’s orders and not dragging Delafield back to the apartment the moment he saw the punk. Just for good measure he cursed Chet for letting Eve wander off on her own. Sure, Pete had been following her the whole time, but she didn’t know that and now he’d lost her.
An awareness skittered across his senses. Instead of trying to push that sort of thing away like he normally did, Pete opened himself to it, trying to pinpoint the source. Within moments he stood at the mouth of an alley. The man who’d dragged Eve away stood at the far end, hand raised to strike a person obscured by a stack of boxes. It had to be Eve.
Pete had no time, no weapon. Damn Hilda for not getting him a gun like he’d demanded. The sound of a slap echoed through the alley, punching through years of restraint and layers of self-control. Pure instinct and muscle memory activated, his arm raising of its own accord. Energy coalesced inside him, almost instantly funneling out through his palm. It blasted the man into the opposite wall where he collapsed in a heap, unmoving.
Pete swore as he shook his hand. The burn remained, as did loose energy bouncing in and around him. Quickly, he called on another old skill, grounding himself as he focused on sending the leftover energy into the ground beneath him. It worked, mostly. Right now he didn’t
have time to think too much about how twitchy he still felt. He would certainly not consider why he’d done this in the first place.
Eve lay on the ground and for a moment Pete thought he might have hit her too. But she was already waking, picking herself up slowly. If she could move that much she was probably okay. He checked the assailant’s pulse. It was erratic but strong. Pete wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or disappointed the man survived. Another thing to push from his mind.
“What happened?” Eve leaned against the wall, wiping her face with her hands.
Pete dodged the question. “Let’s get out of here while he’s still unconscious.” He gestured toward the Zeil.
Eve pushed away from the wall unsteadily. She looked down at the man and stumbled. Pete caught her from behind, his hands on her forearms. For just a moment she slumped against him and it felt very nearly like he held her in an embrace. A soft hint of lavender from her hair teased him. One index finger brushed the skin on the outside of her wrist, sending a warm tendril of sensation straight to places deep inside he’d locked up long ago.
This would not do. This would not do at all.
He pushed her away gently, keeping a hand on her arm. Over her clothes, not her skin. “That was a great job you did, letting Knox get away. Who’s this other guy anyway?”
That did the trick. Eve gave him a withering look. “I didn’t let Knox get away, he left. He said he was being followed and he would see me at the auction party. Then this guy showed up.”
They left the alley and joined the flow of pedestrians on the boulevard. “You’re telling me Knox knew he was being followed and he left you?”
“I guess he wanted to avoid any trouble,” Eve said, her voice colorless.
Fury bubbled through his blood, hot and wild. “So he ran off to let you deal with trouble. Punk ass bitch, I am gonna break him in half.” Some part of him knew he needed to get a grip on his temper but the rest of him wouldn’t listen. He stopped short, stepping into her personal space and glaring down at her. “What about your self-defense lessons with Sanngrid? Why’d you let that guy drag you off into an alley? You should have been able to put him on the ground and get away from him.”
She trembled under the onslaught. If that didn’t make him feel bad enough, the sight of her forcibly bringing the reaction under control and squaring her shoulders made him want to kick himself in the head. “He held my arm so tight, I couldn’t do anything. I’m not used to this, Pete.”
God help him, if she cried he was going to pick her up and carry her back to the apartment. But she didn’t, and he needed to quit being so weak when it came to her. “You need to get used to it, Kane. You won’t always have me around to keep you out of trouble.”
For a moment he thought she was going to argue. He almost wished for it. If she argued he might not feel like such a jerk. But she snapped her mouth closed and looked away. The shadow of a bruise was beginning to form on her face, faint purple marring her pale skin. A cut in her lip had left blood in the corner of her mouth. Barely touching her jaw line with his fingers, he used his thumb to wipe away the blood.
Startled, she brought her gaze to meet his. Green eyes with a hint of gold, like the Gateway Forest on a summer dawn, stared at him. Stared through him. He crumpled beneath that gaze, wanting to beg forgiveness for being so rough with her. Pete shook his head and slammed the door on the thought.
Eve took a step backward, leaving his hand hanging in the air. “Don’t touch me, Cadkin.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve had about enough of men touching me without my permission today.”
The use of his last name instead of his first hurt more than it should have, but then, he’d done the same thing to her. Worse than that was the shame that flooded him. He was making it worse for her. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’re right. I apologize.”
She wouldn’t look at him. Not so much as a glare. “Let’s just go.”
Chapter 17
“What the hell did you do? I heard her crying when I walked past her room just now.” Chet took the plate of pommes frites away from Pete, holding it away from the table.
“Why do you think I did something? I’m not the one who hit her. Or the one who left her unprotected.” He reached for the plate of French fries and mayo but Chet moved it further out of reach. “Give me my damn food back!”
“You haven’t stopped eating since you brought her back.”
“I’m hungry! Damn it, Chet!”
With a sigh Chet relented, returning the plate and sitting in the opposite seat. “You’re both lying to me. When you told me what happened, I can tell, you’re both lying.”
Pete knew what he was lying about but he had no idea why Eve would have felt the need to lie about anything. Around a mouthful of fries he said, “There’s a difference between lying and leaving something out.”
Chet curled his lip in disgust. “Think you could at least finish chewing before you speak?”
Pete elected to answer with a gesture rather than a remark.
Chet rolled his eyes. “So are you leaving something out or are you suggesting she is?”
Pete wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, balling it up and tossing it onto the now-empty plate. He downed half a beer in one swallow. “Maybe she is, I don’t know.” Chet gave him a dubious look. Pete toyed with the beer bottle, avoiding eye contact. “She really crying?”
“She’s hurting too. Her face, the back of her head where it hit the wall. Bruises on her arm.”
Pete narrowed his eyes, the question on his lips.
Chet said, “From where the guy grabbed on to her. Why didn’t you go through his pockets for his ID, anyway? How’d you knock him out? Eve didn’t know.”
That was not a good line of questioning. “The usual way.” He could bluff that part of it, but it had been a real failure on his part to not search the assailant for ID. He’d just been so relieved he hadn’t killed the guy, it never occurred to him. “I thought it prudent to get Eve to safety before he woke up.”
“If you’re going to lie to me you shouldn’t give yourself away by using words like prudent.”
Pete told Chet what to go do with himself, advice Chet ignored. “I need to call Judith and tell her what happened. You have any idea who the guy was?”
“No.” Pete finished his beer, wanting an end to this conversation. “Somebody following Knox is all I can guess.”
Chet rose and left the room briefly. He returned carrying two small rectangles of wrapped white linen. Pete recognized them because he’d used similar packages so many times himself – Maura’s healing poultices of enchanted herbs. Pete said, “How did you get those herbs through airport security without someone thinking it was pot? And why can’t we get me a gun through security the same way?”
“The herbs are for healing, a positive force. Makes it easier for cloaking magic to work. Hiding something like a gun, that would take a different kind of spell and it’s not worth it.” Chet handed him the linen packages. “Go take these to Eve, explain to her how to use them.”
“Uh huh.” Pete tried to hand them back. “She’s mad at me. You deal with her.” He dropped the linen onto the table.
Chet would not be swayed. “Hilda will be back in a few hours. I don’t want her to see any hint of a problem, you get me? And I also want Eve to calm down and feel better before we go to Mueller’s party tonight. I need her focused.”
“So go make her feel better. You’re the people person, not me.” Chet was good with women too, though Pete didn’t want to say it. For some reason it was far less awkward for Pete to think of Eve as a person than as a woman. Either way, cheering her up was not a job for which he was remotely suited.
“We’re friends, Pete.”
Uh oh.
“Good friends.”
Crap.
“Things are loose at Bradbury, we’re not much for protocol and hierarchy.”
Here it comes.
“But how about,
just this once, since I let you get away with lying to me, you remember I’m the de facto assistant director, which means I’m your boss, and you do what the hell I tell you to do.”
Pete wondered if this was what it was like for people with a normal childhood when they were called to the principal’s office. He stood and picked up the linen packets, feeling like an idiot but nonetheless working his body language to make a point of his height and size advantage. Chet stood his ground, making Pete feel like an even bigger idiot. “Fine, but only if she’s through crying. I can’t be around crying women.”
“Heaven forfend you be exposed to anything that might encourage you to act like a gentleman.”
“Up yours, Kedrova.”
“I’ll interpret that as a request to tell Judith you said hello.”
Pete replied by waving his middle finger in the air as he sauntered from the room.
****
Eve slammed the heel of her palm against the bathroom sink. She hated crying, hated feeling weak and useless. Being chastised by Mr. Pete Bad Attitude-Jerkface-Asshat Cadkin was just about the most humiliating experience since, well, forever. Junior high, maybe. It burned, almost as much as the memory of the cold that came through that black diamond ring. Eve knew she should have told Chet about that, including the face she’d not quite but almost seen, but recalling how that cold seemed to travel through her and out at the attacker stopped her.
In her brief time at Bradbury studying with Jean-Pierre, she’d begun to learn some of the vocabulary and concepts of psychic powers. Receiving was what she’d been doing for years, although sporadically and without direction. What she’d done today was projection, and that was a whole new ballgame. It scared her, so much that she preferred to think of Pete’s criticism.
The bad thing about it was, he was right. She’d worked with Sanngrid enough that she should have been able to get away from Black Diamond Guy. A few quick moves, mostly based on using his own size against him because that was the best approach for a petite woman like her. Sanngrid had taught her well, but when Eve needed to draw on that training, she hadn’t even considered using it. It wasn’t ingrained in her instincts. A little training with another woman, even one taller and stronger like Sanngrid, didn’t help Eve get over feeling intimidated about fighting with a man.