The Mephisto Kiss (The Redemption Of Kyros)

by Trinity Faegen

  Jordan looked down and realized she’d run another half mile but was barely breathing hard. “What about Phoenix?”

  “Yeah. Phoenix.” Sasha huffed out a breath. “He’s his own kind of tormented and screwed up. He’ll go off for a week at a time and won’t say where he goes. Jax thinks he wanders around where they used to live in Yorkshire, where Jane is buried, but I went there once when he was away and didn’t find him.”

  “Where do you think he goes?”

  “Oh, I know where he goes.” Sasha glanced over her shoulder toward the door, then said in a low voice, “It’s kind of an unspoken agreement that, unless it’s necessary, none of us mentally search for the others. Otherwise, nobody has any privacy at all.”

  “So you have to think about it to know where someone is?”

  “Right, and it’s not as easy as it sounds. You have to really concentrate and blank your mind of everything but who you’re searching for.” She glanced over her shoulder again. “I’ve never told Jax, because he’d give me a lecture about respecting Phoenix’s privacy, and he’d be right. But, Jordan, I had to know.”

  She didn’t judge or blame Sasha. She was just as curious. “So where does he go?”

  “Right here, on the mountain. Way on the other side, away from all the Lumina cottages and the mansion and everything else, there’s a tiny little one-room cabin, probably built by a rancher back in the olden days.” Sasha slowed the elliptical until it stopped, then grabbed her towel, dabbed it across her face, and stepped down, moving closer to the treadmill. “It’s got modern stuff inside, like a nice bed and a refrigerator and stove. And books. A crap ton of books. That’s where he goes when he’s away. He stays in that cabin, all by himself, for a whole week.”

  Jordan had to admit, she was a little disappointed. She’d expected something really off the wall. Instead, Phoenix just escaped the never-ending noisiness of the house, and his brothers. She could see why he’d do it, to be alone for a while.

  “I can tell you’re unimpressed,” Sasha said, “but I haven’t told you the sad part.”

  Jordan had run a mile, and she slowed the treadmill until it stopped, then stepped off and accepted the fresh towel Sasha handed to her. “Okay, hit me.”

  Sasha looked one more time toward the door, then said almost in a whisper, “He has Jane’s things in that cabin. It’s amazing all the stuff he has, like a fan, and a velvet cloak, and little paintings she did, and most of the books there are hers. She was an invalid until Phoenix healed her, and she read all the time. He has boxes of papers, and I didn’t look that close, but I think they’re manuscript pages. She must have been writing a book. He has her gloves, and opera glasses, and a hat.”

  Jordan felt her heart break a little. “What does he do with all of it, do you think? Just sit around and stare at it?”

  “I don’t know. I figured out where he was and popped over there to make sure I was right, but I didn’t stay. I felt like a creeper.” She smiled. “Let’s be honest. I kind of am a creeper. Anyway, later, when I knew he wasn’t there, I went back and went inside and looked around. It made me so sad.”

  “I wonder if he’ll ever find another Anabo? And if he did, what would he do? If he has what amounts to a shrine for Jane, how’s he ever going to let go of her and be with someone else?”

  “Maybe he won’t find one for a long time, and by then, he’ll not be as obsessed with Jane’s memory.”

  “I don’t know, Sasha. She’s been dead over a hundred years, and it sounds like he’s still pretty extreme.”

  Sasha tossed her towel into a wicker basket against the wall then met Jordan’s gaze. “I have to say, if another Anabo turns up, and she’s meant for him, I feel supersorry for her. Can you imagine? It’s hard enough to love a son of Hell, but having to replace a girl he still grieves for would be next to impossible.”

  “She’d have to be really strong, with the patience of a saint.”

  “True that.” She cleared her throat and fiddled with the drawstring of her running shorts. “That’s pretty much what Jax and I thought about Key, that whoever came along who was meant for him would have to be unique.”

  Jordan blinked. “Bummer she didn’t show up, and he got me instead.”

  Shaking her head, Sasha said, “You’re exactly what he needs. When you told him off yesterday at breakfast …” She grinned. “That was epic. He needs somebody who’ll stand up to him. Somebody who can crack the wall he’s built around himself. He’s always so quiet, such a loner, and I’m not sure if it’s because he’s always been in charge, or if it’s just his personality.”

  “You said the others twist off every so often. What about Key? Does he ever lose it?”

  Sasha shook her head. “I’ve seen him get mad, and he can yell and give a lecture like nobody’s business, but he never loses control.”

  “I wonder why. He’s a son of Hell, same as the others.”

  “I think it’s because everybody looks up to him and counts on his being steady. If he went off, it’d be freaky. So he keeps to himself, and if he ever has the urge to lose it, he manages to get past it. But I don’t think he’s anywhere near as cold as he seems, Jordan. I mean, look at his greenhouse. How many guys do you know who’d take care of a greenhouse like that, with so much time and attention to every little detail?”

  “None. All the guys I know wouldn’t have the patience, or the interest.”

  Sasha continued fiddling with the drawstring, wrapping it around her index finger, letting it go, then starting again. Like she was nervous. “I realize how awkward this must be, and you just got here, and you’re still thinking about your boyfriend, but I hope when the time’s right, you’ll give Key a chance. He’s so … he’s always all about everybody else, and as strange as that sounds, because of what he is, it’s the absolute truth. I’d bet money he’s wondering why he was the one to find an Anabo, why it wasn’t Phoenix, who’s so miserable. Key is arrogant and proud, and if we’d let him, he’d be a total dictator, but there’s so much more to him.”

  She should probably tell Sasha she knew that already. She had known it the instant she heard him calling her back from the dead. But that wasn’t something she wanted to share, so she said only, “I wonder what he’d think about your pleading his case?”

  Sasha laughed. “I can just imagine the look he’d give me and the lecture to go with it. Swear you won’t tell him?”

  Jordan found herself laughing, too. “Swear.”

  Without warning, Sasha was hugging her, whispering, “I’m always here for you, Jordan. I’m so happy you came to stay, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make this easier for you.”

  Returning the hug, Jordan felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. “Thank you, Sasha.”

  Pink was starting a new song when Sasha pulled away and went toward the gym door. “I’m off to shower and get dressed. I’ll see you in a while. Jax has some fun stuff planned for you today.”

  Then she was gone, and Jordan saw through the window when Jax dropped the basketball he’d been dribbling and rushed at her. Sasha laughed and ran. When he caught her and kissed her, Jordan turned away and went to the bench press.

  An hour later, after she’d gone through the rest of the weight room equipment, she got a bottle of water from the mini-fridge next to the towels and went out to the gym. Leaning against the stone wall, she drank the water and cooled off while she watched Jax shoot hoops. She was impressed. He moved almost like a dancer, and he never missed a shot.

  “Do you play basketball?” he asked.

  “Too short, and my hands are too small. I played volleyball.”

  “Any good?” He shot another one.

  “Decent.” She flexed an arm. “I bet now I’d be killer.”

  He laughed and came toward her, the basketball between his arm and his side. “Maybe we’ll get a game together. I know a few Luminas who play volleyball.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Are you ready for today’s tra
ining session?”

  She pushed away from the wall and stood straight. “More knives?”

  He shook his head. “Not today.” He walked to the cabinets and stored the basketball, then slid a T-shirt over his head and stepped into a pair of sweats he pulled up over his shorts. Turning, he came back to her and handed her a Telluride High cap and a pair of really nice Jackie-O shades, überdark and ginormous. “These are Sasha’s, but we’ll get you your own later.”

  “Why do I need sunglasses?”

  “Put them on, and the hat, then take my hand.”

  She did, and moments later, they stood on the sidewalk of a busy street in London. She knew from the cabs and the double-decker bus that passed. It was almost dark, but the street was well lit from streetlamps and store windows.

  “We’re here to capture a lost soul—a little training and education before tomorrow morning’s takedown. Look across the street and tell me what you see.”

  “A bank.”

  “And?”

  “Pedestrians. A dog. A No Standing sign. A trash bin. A guy texting. Another guy wearing earbuds. A girl looking at a city map.” She squinted. “She looks a whole lot like Sasha. And the guy with earbuds looks like Zee with shades and a hat.”

  “That’s because that is Sasha, and it is Zee with shades and a hat. Rule number one in any takedown is that we all go, or no one goes. That’s so we can cover any surprises, like more lost souls than we counted on, or one who’s on top of his game, or one who might bring civilians into it. Ordinarily, we’d meet up on the M in the front hall and all take off together, but today’s a little different. We’re taking the lost soul during London rush hour, so we need to be less conspicuous.”

  “How did we appear out of thin air with no one seeming to have noticed?”

  “It doesn’t work as well when there are only a few people around, but on a busy street like this, especially at dusk, people tend not to see things that are right in front of them. We use that to our advantage. If anyone does notice, they convince themselves they imagined it. Okay, so here we are, waiting on our target to exit the bank. We know his schedule because Zee did reconnaissance. He leaves every day at five sharp, walks down there to the Rose and Crown for a pint, then hails a cab to take him to his flat in Kensington. Today, he’s going to be robbed and stabbed by a guy who will jump in the cab after him.”

  “Who’s the robber?”

  “Phoenix. Key will be driving the cab, and the rest of us will cause a distraction so people won’t be looking right at the cab when Phoenix disappears with the real guy and leaves behind a doppelganger.” He looked at her. “Actually, the others are going to do that. You and I will only observe. Pay close attention. There’ll be a test later.”

  “Seriously?”

  “No. But pay attention. Look, here comes our guy.”

  She watched a middle-aged man step out of the bank and turn to the left. Right away, she noticed his face was weird, like he had a smudge across his eyes. “Oh, my God, I can see it! He really does have a shadow over his eyes.”

  “Wait until you see a Skia. It’s hard to tell they have eyes until you get closer to them.”

  A lady with two big shopping bags slowed down and looked at her curiously. “Excuse me,” the woman said in German, “but can you tell me where you bought those sunshades? They’re just what I’ve been looking for.”

  “They were a gift,” Jordan replied in German.

  The woman smiled, nodded, and walked on.

  “Jax, do you speak German?”

  “I’m Mephisto. I speak all languages.”

  “That explains it then.”

  “Explains what?”

  “I’ve never spoken a word of German before in my life, unless you count ‘sauerkraut.’ ”

  “I hate sauerkraut, and Hans cooks it a lot, because he’s German.” He grabbed her hand. “Let’s head toward the pub and wait for Mr. Mathers to have his pint.”

  They wandered down the street looking in windows until they came to a bookstore that was directly across from the pub. While they waited, they stood at the front window, pretending to discuss a display of travel guides, and watched the reflection of what went on behind them.

  She was so focused on studying the door of the pub, it took her a moment too long to notice the girl inside the bookstore who walked right up to the window and waved. Jax moved so that he stood between her and the window and said under his breath, “That girl knows you. You’ve got to fake like you’re someone else.”

  Turning quickly, Jordan took a deep breath. “It’s Kristen Ahrens. She goes to my school. Her dad works for a congressman, and her mom’s British. They must be here for the holidays.

  What do we do?”

  “Pretend you’re German,” he said, just before Kristen came to stand right beside her. “We have only an hour before dinner,” he said in German. “We should go back to the hotel now.”

  Kristen said, “Jordan? Oh, my God, Jordan, it is you, isn’t it?” She looked at Jax, who was babbling on about their dinner reservations, and her eyes grew wide with fright. She grabbed Jordan’s arm and began tugging her away from Jax. “Hey!” She turned her head and shouted, “Somebody call the cops! This is Jordan Ellis!”

  Kristen continued pulling her arm, but Jordan stood fast and jerked away from her. “Leave me alone, or I’ll alert the authorities,” she said in German.

  Jax shouldered between them and began yelling at Kristen, who backed off but kept screaming, “Help! Somebody help! This is Jordan Ellis! The American president’s daughter! She’s not dead! God, won’t somebody help?”

  Jax was reaching for Jordan when she was suddenly yanked backward. Within seconds, she was surrounded by people, and he was swallowed up by the crowd.

  From the driver’s seat of the cab, while Phoenix deposited Mr. Mathers’s doppelganger in the back and subdued the real man, Key watched Jax lose Jordan. If he hadn’t seen it happen, he wouldn’t have believed it. One second that girl was shouting, and the next Jordan had disappeared inside a flash mob. His heart began to race, and he broke out in a cold sweat. “Phoenix, did you see that?”

  “See what?”

  “Jax just lost Jordan. Take Mathers, and I’m going under a cloak to find her and follow.” He concentrated until he was cloaked, then got out of the cab and ran toward the crowd, shouldering his way through until he found her. A policeman had just swung her up to sit in front of him on his horse. The crowd cheered. Jordan looked panicked. Key pushed his way toward the horse and yelled up at her, “Go with it, and I’ll stay with you, cloaked. Just be calm and we’ll figure out a solution.”

  She looked down at him and nodded, just before the cop turned the horse around and started through the crowd, which followed all the way to the police station on Buckingham Palace Road. Once there, the policeman dismounted, then plucked Jordan from the saddle and carried her into the station, the crowd cheering.

  Forcing himself to be calm, not to follow his instinct to grab her and pop out immediately, Key followed. As soon as she was on her feet, he went to stand next to her. “Don’t look at or talk to me, or they’ll think you’re crazy. Tell them you’ve been locked in a room since landing in London, but you don’t know where or why. This afternoon, you were taken by car to Hyde Park and left there. You never saw anyone’s face, have no idea who took you, and you weren’t mistreated in any way. Jax came along and offered to help, and you were on your way to the police when that girl saw you and started shouting. Can you do this, Jordan?”

  She gave a tiny nod, even as she answered the policeman’s questions, repeating what he’d just told her. There was a lot of commotion in the station as others became aware of who’d just arrived. A row of policemen lined up across the entrance, not allowing anyone to come inside.

  Jordan smiled and nodded and answered questions without looking shell-shocked—just mildly frightened, and very relieved to be safe now. She played it well.

  Jax popped in, cloaked, and comple
tely freaked out. “Kyros, I’m so sorry this happened. I tried to take her away from there, but some guy grabbed her, and before I knew it—”

  “It’s going to be okay, Jax. We’ll deal.”

  “You’re not mad?”

  “No, I’m afraid.”

  Jax gave him an odd look. “You’re never afraid.”

  “Untrue. I just hide it well.”

  A burly man in a suit came to the front of the station and patted Jordan’s arm while he went on about his happiness that she was alive. “I’ve rung the U.S. ambassador and the prime minister, who’s on his way here now. As soon as we can ensure you are Miss Ellis, the PM will call your father. Such a brave girl!” He patted her arm again, and she smiled, but Key could see the panic in her eyes.

  He felt the same way. Completely panicked. He shoved his hands into his trench coat pockets and told himself there was a way to fix this. He just had to be calm, and the answer would come to him.

  A tall woman stepped forward and waved Jordan toward a chair. “Let the poor girl have a sit, Mr. Lamb. Would you care for tea, miss?”

  “No, thank you.” She sat and cast a long look at Key.

  “No matter where they take you, I’ll be there, so no worries,” he said to her.

  “What are we going to do?” Jax asked. “How can we get her back?”

  “We can’t just take her. We’re going to have to let her go back to her father.”

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll have to think up a new plan, because the memorial obviously isn’t going to happen.”

  Mr. Lamb had begun a series of questions for Jordan, and he wrote down her answers on a legal pad. “When’s your birthday?”

  “February second. Groundhog Day in the States.” She looked toward Key. “It will be my eighteenth, and my father planned a large party. I hope he’ll still do it. I have a lot to celebrate.”

  “Indeed you do,” said Mr. Lamb. He asked more questions, designed to verify she was Jordan Ellis, although he didn’t appear overly concerned that he had an imposter. Without the sunglasses, she was distinctive, her eyes an unusual shade of blue and her face exceptionally pretty. She held herself and spoke with the poise of a young woman who was comfortable in any situation. Like a First Daughter who’d taken on the duties of a First Lady.