by Regan Black
And he knew it.
"Well done. You're clearly committed to this girl."
"I'm committed to all of your victims."
"You've grown up. Filled out too much for my tastes."
"Lucky me."
He leaned back into his chair and laced his fingers over his broad girth.
"I'm ready. Go ahead."
She frowned at him. "Ready for what?"
"Come on, you've got a knife in your shoe. A gun on your thigh, right?"
"Neither would've survived the search at the door."
"Oh, something quieter this time? Poison maybe, or a garrote?"
"So you hauled me in here to kill you? How absurd."
"But you're so good at it." He leaned forward and the chair groaned under the burden. He slid a small plastic card across his desk. "Here's the pass card for the back door. Once you're out of the building you can go wherever you please. You'd have purged the world of me and my evil intentions."
He chuckled like a narrator for an old horror flick, but Jaden ignored it, trying to calculate what brought this on.
He wanted something. Something she already had. He'd never before invited her vengeance. But what could it be, what was worth the risk?
"Why?" she asked bluntly.
"Seems you've always had an axe to grind."
She clasped her hands behind her. "The axe didn't work."
He guffawed. "Well in the long run, I suppose not. We've been around this all before. Here's your opportunity, Ms. Michaels. Take your best shot."
It was tempting. Beyond tempting–it was the end all, the ultimate goal right here in her grasp, yet it didn't feel right.
"Why?" she asked again.
"So curious. Just do it and let's call it done. I'm tired, you're tired. Let's finish it."
He had lived longer than any other time they'd met. She felt it then, caught the slight glimmer in his eyes. He had a plan. Somehow he knew her strength was waning. If she gave in to the instant gratification now, it would only be tougher next time.
"What's your verdict on this case?"
"Simple. A juiced man forgot his own strength in the throes of passion and the woman cried abuse. She's alive and well enough, isn't she? She's moved on–why isn't he entitled to the same?"
"Maybe because he broke her jaw, her nose, her arm, not to mention the law."
"Dearheart, do you recall the good ol' days when laws made sense? When a man had the right to keep his lady in line without fear of the establishment?"
She looked heavenward, pretending to think. "Hmm. Yes." Her eyes came back to his. "I think they called it the Dark Ages."
He guffawed once more and his enormous belly jiggled, making the robes ripple like a black lake.
"So if you won't kill me, dare I ask a favor?"
"You've dared more without asking."
"Ah, you're bitter." He waggled a finger at her. "That's never good. In this life form or any other."
She held her tongue, wishing she could cut his out.
"Stop this witch hunt, dearheart. Aside from mistakes I made with you and your sister–"
"You're referring, of course, to the sister who died as a direct result of your depravity." The only sister she'd had in how many families? The sister she'd treasured and lost because of the beast in front of her. Her vision hazed and she itched to strike out.
He inclined his head, in admission or invitation she couldn't say. She struggled for control. He was up to something.
"...a sorrowful time indeed," he was saying. "However, all that's behind me." He shifted to open the top drawer of his desk.
Jaden braced herself to defend or evade depending on the weapon he withdrew. And she nearly fell to her knees in grief at the sight of the sparkling bracelet dangling from his stocky finger.
She remembered each of the nine, modest square cut diamonds. She recalled the delighted look on her sister's face at the birthday party that became her last. She still felt the pulse of rage when her sister's small body had been found–without a scrap of ornamentation.
She hated the idea that they had this in common. This need to connect and collect items from their previous incarnations.
"I'd truly appreciate it if you'd let the past go." He laid the bracelet on the desk between them. "It's the only way to a healthy future."
The urge to seize the bauble and destroy the beast threatened to overpower her sense of purpose. "Convict your buddy out there and I'll think about it," she managed at last.
"Always defending the underdog. Dearheart, I'm only a man."
"You're the foulest of men and the most horrendous of monsters. I will kill you. When the time suits me. You can wait and wonder. And rot."
"Well, then, I guess we're done here. Don't say I haven't tried for peaceful reconciliation, Ms. Michaels."
They both knew his very nature made him incapable of peace. "I look forward to your verdict."
She left, bypassing his security to show him just how easily she could get to him when she was ready. The low chuckle behind her only fueled the revenge burning in her heart. She'd find the right weapon, and next time they met, he wouldn't have time to ask for his death.
Chapter Four
Time Stamp: 1066
Slipping out into the cool spring night I see the soaring star. Everyone speaks of it, though usually in whispers that it portends death and worse. For me, 'tis a beautiful mystery how the sky so reflects my joy! I spread my arms and soar with it, for I am soon to be wed to my beloved.
Clouds scud over the new star. I am not alone. Captured in a violent embrace, I struggle and cry out, to no avail. Overpowered, smothered, I am used and left ruined by a man above reproach–the baron himself. Staring I watch the star emerge to continue its celestial journey and I am painfully aware my own life's course has been changed forever.
Chicago: 2096
Brian stewed in his thoughts until Jaden exited Albertson's chambers. Tension clouded her eyes and stretched her mouth thin. It wasn't unusual for a judge to speak privately with a witness. Especially in a case where false accusation carried such a high penalty.
He shifted to lean against the back wall. The charges she'd tossed around last night still weighed on his mind. And her haunted sea-green eyes and tousled honeyed hair left his nerves ragged.
He'd spent the night in his office reviewing old cases looking for any trend of missing evidence. At first glance, nothing seemed wrong. Burglaries, car theft, fraud, and murders had all been processed without delay or questionable tactics.
He went back further, kept digging until the insidious pattern emerged. Rape, mugging, and the occasional domestic dispute frequently settled out of court when evidence disappeared. Evidence the crews swore they gathered and filed. Yet crime scene photos were lost, DNA compromised, and testimony tossed on the basis of coercion. Except in cases processed by Larry. Most of those ended up in court and resulted in heavy sentences.
But only a few had been Judge Albertson cases and none of them connected to Jaden Michaels. So he'd hopped the el for two full circuits of the city to think it all through. But when the news monitors in the train car announced that the Judge had ordered verification of holograms brought to court by Michaels, Brian changed his plans.
Now, as Jaden's eyes met his, it felt as if she stared straight through to his soul. Deeper, if there was such a place. The woman acted as if she knew what he was about better than he did. Unease swept over him, raising the hair on the back of his neck. Was she mystery or threat? Did he really want to know?
* * *
Jaden took her place next to Brenda on the pew-like bench, thinking of the last time she'd been to a church. Weeks ago. She should go again, for Larry's sake if no better reason occurred. Neither she nor Brenda spoke, unified in their apprehension as they waited for the bailiff to return. Mentally, she worked through various, hopefully unnecessary, escapes.
Then the bailiff appeared from a side door, crossed the courtroom and disappeared into
the Judge's chambers. Jaden's mind blanked and her body tensed for action.
Judge Albertson mounted the dais and raised his gavel. His eyes locked on Jaden before shifting to give Billy a quick nod. She knew before he spoke the words: Brenda would have to run.
"The lab has found nothing fraudulent with the hologram," the Judge began. "I sentence the defendant to five years incarceration with behavior modification in a maximum security facility. Effective immediately."
Brenda clutched Jaden's hand and gave a watery smile of gratitude. Jaden knew relief was premature.
"However." The judge cleared his throat. "The manner of presentation of the evidence in this case compels me to make an example for the future integrity of the law. I'm obligated to place the woman who pressed charges and all advocates and witnesses on her behalf under house arrest for a period not less than thirty days. Also effective immediately." His black eyes landed on Jaden with a sharp, satisfied glint.
She met the gaze even as she plotted her way around it.
The court authority led a confused Brenda, a protesting advocate, an unaffected defendant, and a much-too-calm Jaden out of the courtroom through the back hallways.
Once the procession reached street level, Felon Transport took over, ordering silence as they waited on separate vehicles for the ride to their respective destinations.
Seeing Brenda gulp back a sob, Jaden sought a way to reassure the stunned woman before the transport shuttled her away.
"Officer," Chief Thomas said. "I need a word with Ms. Michaels."
Jaden saw him flash his shield, then nod for her to approach. She ignored him.
"We need to talk." He took her elbow, moving them away from Brenda and the officer.
She disagreed. No point. Doubt and confusion were etched on his whole being.
"What happened in there?" he persisted.
She shrugged. "Justice was served."
"I meant in chambers."
"More of the same, Thomas. You wouldn't believe me anyway."
"Call me Brian," he said softly. "Try me."
She studied him then, assessing the risk of driving him away at what might be a crucial point in their lives. In one deep breath, she spilled it all.
He stared.
"He asked you to kill him?"
"Yes."
"Must be the cancer."
"Cancer?" She huffed. "Most cancers are eradicated." And just what would happen to her if Albertson died of natural causes? Would it mean an easy end for her too? "He wouldn't have told you."
"Contrary to your low opinion of me, we go way back. He's a good friend. And he trusts me."
"Your loss." She started back toward the waiting transport officer.
"Isn't it yours?" he said, catching up. "You challenge my department's integrity and now you don't care about the answers."
She jerked her thumb back to the courthouse behind them. "Clearly I don't need the judge's buddy on my team."
"Don't you? Don't you need to replace Larry?"
"Hardly. I don't want a spy. Or double agent as it'd apply to you. I need an ally." She bit hard on her cheek. Where had that come from? Sure Cleveland suggested it, but as a single opinion she hadn't given the idea real credit. After all, she'd handled her fate on her own every other time. "For all the good it's done," she muttered.
"Say again?"
"Why the interest? Last night you weren't buying my story about the Judge making evidence evaporate."
"I'm still not convinced." He stopped her as she tried to spin away. "But I know you believe it. Looking into some old cases proved something's wrong. I can help you. With my resources and your witnesses, we'll be able to clear the air."
She jerked out of his grip and the odd effect his touch had on her. "I don't want to clear the air, I want to save lives."
"So do I, but for some reason, I want to protect yours in the process."
She knew the reason; she could pinpoint exactly where his instinct to protect took root in his soul. Yet, she couldn't tell him, it was too impossible for him to comprehend. Yet...
"Last night, your touch gave me strength."
He blinked. "I guess that's one way to put it."
"And you feel well now?"
"Yeah. Sure."
Her car pulled up and the transport officer called to them. "There's my ride. Come see me when you've resigned."
"What?"
"You can't help if your loyalties are divided."
"I can't help if I'm out of the loop," he shot back.
She sighed. He'd never trust. Not her, not her guidance and never her mission. He was too close to the Judge. He'd always been too close to the devil, making him blind to his tactics.
"Who says I need anything from you at all?"
"You did last night."
There was that. "An error in judgment. Forget we met. I've got things to do," she said, as the officer dragged her away.
Topping the list was seeing Brenda would be safe.
"I'll put a detail on your girl," he called after her.
She had no way to acknowledge the comment, but that didn't matter. Cleveland was wrong. Fulfilling a destiny was an individual sport.
So was escape. As an art form, it had been easier when handcuffs weren't electronic and vehicles had simple locks rather than the timed devices of this era. Or so the police wanted to believe.
Jaden had learned one lesson above all others through the course of her lives: adapt. Two blocks and she had the combination cuffs unlocked. Another block and she'd worked her briefcase into a better position to access her code key. When the van stopped at the front of her building, she was ready.
The driver pressed buttons on the panel, paused, and then exited the car, coming around to her door.
She heard the whir of the timed locks releasing and when the officer swung the door open, she seized his wrist. With a twist and sharp yank he was in the backseat, sprawled over her. A quick blow to his neck put him out long enough to slip away and jam the time locks.
The standard GPS and a few keystrokes would soon inform the monitoring station at the courthouse of the completion of Judge Albertson's orders.
There had to be some reason why the Judge had baited her. Something he knew that she'd yet to recall. She knew there were gaps in her ageless memory. What didn't he want her to find?
Walking around to the back of her building, she slid her code key through what appeared to be a worn and abandoned lock. Instead of taking the stairs up to her apartment, she bypassed her empty classroom and slipped through a door no one else knew about.
Descending the dark, narrow staircase, Jaden felt as if she were on a controlled drop into a deep well. The only light came from the penlight she'd flipped on as soon as the door closed behind her.
Slowing, in anticipation of the bottom, she relished the quiet, cool damp of her secret basement. She waved her key in front of the panel she couldn't see and the room lit up. She tossed her briefcase, the extra holograph projector and her code key on the desk as she moved toward an antique wardrobe.
Occasionally she found humor in using the same pieces over and over. Value, she supposed, though it didn't make her smile today. The judge was right, she was tired. Stripping out of the skirt and jacket she'd worn for Brenda's case, she donned a stretchy tracksuit of heathered blue. Comfort clothes, for body and spirit, she thought with a small smile now.
Testifying had taken its toll. No. Being in the presence of evil had done it. She spun the lock on the old combination safe door and enjoyed the sight of her journals, the museum diary, her alternate IDs and the few gadgets she considered useful in this era. Yesterday's intruders could've searched for days and never uncovered her emergency system that emptied the safe upstairs into this one.
She read the entries, marveling at how little her handwriting had changed over the course of time. Interesting as that was, she dug into the pages, finding herself moved by the entries of a girl in love, in misery, and then set on a course she'
d been running for far too long.
The yellowed pages revealed a happy childhood, but her innocent faith in love was dashed when her fiancé's superior officer molested her. Ruined her. Unable to convince her betrothed of the truth, she'd been tossed to the outskirts of good society and forced to make her own way.
Jaden stood and walked off the impatience.
She remembered the rest. Hearing her father talk of specific crimes against prostitutes, she'd taken the ultimate risk for a woman of that time and investigated on her own, suspecting the man who'd molested her. Getting to know the women who'd survived, she'd managed to begin an underground escape route to give them a chance against the predator. When her parents died, she used her inheritance to fund a safe haven for those abused women.
It had been unheard of to care for prostitutes to the degree she had. It had been unheard of, as well, to poison a royal officer. Somehow he'd lived long enough to put the authorities onto her.
That life had ended slowly, in prison, making it impossible to help anyone else. Jaden gazed at the diary. It couldn't be useless. She'd studied legends of various weapons. She'd examined in depth the myths of good versus evil. The key was somewhere in the past.
Before she could wonder what would happen if she simply gave in and gave up on exposing the Judge for the devil he was, the screaming started. Terror and confusion coursed through her veins followed by the unthinkable.
Her cozy hideaway vanished, her vision compromised by the current victim. She didn't waste time wondering what was happening; she simply took the new gift and tried to determine where the Judge had taken the helpless girl.
The steel construction of the large room showed when the girl looked around wildly. She tensed, with the girl, when heavy hands squeezed budding breasts. She jumped, as the girl did, when a door flew open. And though tears blurred the view, Jaden could see it was Billy, Brenda's ex, coming toward Albertson.