by Rebecca York
As he advanced, Luke glanced toward Olivia. “Get in the car,” he shouted.
Instead, she took a step back. Lord, was she going to run? He wanted to grab her, but he was too busy with Eddie’s neighbor.
Zabastian let the guy get within striking distance, then reached out a hand and started to bring it down on the man’s shoulder.
No, Luke shouted inside his head. He knew that Zabastian intended a killing blow.
You can’t kill him. We’re stealing his neighbor’s car. We’re the ones in the wrong.
Somehow he stopped the blow in midair.
Zabastian bellowed. And Eddie’s neighbor seized the opportunity to aim a right hook at Luke’s jaw.
Luke ducked the blow, preparing to strike back. But Zabastian beat him to it. As the attacker charged forward again, Zabastian stiffened one finger and jabbed the man in the ribs. It didn’t feel like a serious blow, but it must have hit a very sensitive spot.
The fellow gave an anguished grunt and went down on his knees on the gravel parking pad.
“Come on.” This time when Luke grabbed Olivia’s arm, she let him help her into the car, then coughed when she took a breath of the smoke-stained air.
Luke ran around the other side and slid behind the wheel, setting the box on the seat between them.
She cleared her throat. “Let Luke do the driving.”
“I am.”
As he pulled out of the parking spot, he knew she was watching him carefully. Then she glanced back at the man on the ground.
“What did you do to him?”
“Not much. A maneuver I learned in my training.”
“Your hands are deadly,” Olivia breathed
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you kill the . . . guys you call the Poisoned Ones?”
“I was . . . getting used to Luke’s body.”
Olivia made a strangled sound, then gave him a direct look. “Where are we going?”
“I’m thinking.” Luke was the one who answered, wracking his brain as he tried to come up with a hiding place.
oOo
Luke drove down the alley, then turned right and onto one of the narrow streets. He took several turns, aware that Olivia was watching him.
“You don’t know where you’re going?” she accused.
“I’m looking for something,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Different license plates for this car.”
“Huh?”
“We’re in a stolen vehicle, in case you don’t remember that scene a little while ago. If that guy turns in a description of the car to the cops, I want different plates.”
“More stealing?”
“Sorry.”
He pulled to a stop beside another junker car and waited for several minutes, watching the houses on either side of the alley, trying to see if anyone was looking out the window or standing on a porch.
Finally, he reached for the handle, then turned back to Olivia.
“Can I trust you to stay in the car this time? And warn me if you see anyone coming?”
“Yes.”
He gave her a long look, then watched her slump down in her seat so that her eyes were at the bottom of the windshield.
Mercifully, Zabastian had been silent for several minutes. But as Luke climbed out of the car, the warrior sent him a thought.
She’s cooperating for the moment. But you must learn to control her better.
Annoyance shot through Luke. I’m not the boss of her.
A woman must listen when a man speaks
Not in this world. In the twenty-first century, women are the equal of men.
You must be making a joke!
Stick around, and you’ll find out.
Luke squatted beside the car, keeping one eye peeled for trouble and hoping he wasn’t going to get shot when he started working on the license plates.
Chapter 5
To Luke’s relief, he was able to remove the license plates in the dark and exchange them without incident. With thanks to God for small favors, he drove away from the scene of the new crime, his mind still scrambling to think of a place to hide out.
“Where are we going?” Olivia asked again.
As if by magic, an address leaped into his mind.
“We can go to the house of some friends. Ginny and Tom Hanover. I got in touch with them when I came back to town.”
Won’t we put them in danger?”
He shook his head. “I had dinner there a week ago, and they told me they were going to spend a month in Mexico.”
In fact, Luke had already used them for this assignment—putting them on a customer list at Marathon Computers so that if anyone checked up on Luke Garner, they’d see that he had other accounts besides Peterbalm.
“And they don’t mind lending you their house?” Olivia pressed.
“I hope not.” The answer came out more sharply than he intended, and he knew this situation was getting to him. His life was out of control, and every time he turned around, he got into a worse fix. He wished he’d never opened that damned box.
Then Olivia would be in bad trouble, Zabastian was kind enough to remind him.
“Yeah.”
“What?” Olivia asked.
He sighed. “Just talking to myself again.”
She tipped her head to the side, staring at him. “You mean, you’re talking to the warrior? And you said it out loud”
She looked like she didn’t expect him to be straight with her. But he answered with a simple, “Yes.”
“And you and I . . .” She swallowed, then started again. “I’m talking to Luke Garner now.”
“Yes.”
“So—what’s it like? Channeling?”
“It’s not exactly channeling. I’m not . . . communing with someone who’s dead. His spirit was in the box.”
“Can you explain that?”
He sighed. “I’m not equipped to explain it.”
She reached out and carefully laid her hand over his. “Can he feel that?”
“Yes. He feels everything I feel.”
“How do you know?”
“I can tell when he’s reacting.”
“And he’s listening to this conversation.”
“Of course.”
“Is he critiquing our discussion—inside your head?”
“He’s been quiet for a while.”
Before Luke could enjoy that state of affairs, he felt the warrior getting ready to assert himself.
And Olivia didn’t help by asking, “What’s he thinking now?”
Luke struggled to keep the warrior’s pointed observation silent. But Zabastian forced the issue by muttering, “That you should learn your place!”
She folded her arms across her chest and turned to face him. “That’s what he’s thinking?”
“I’m afraid so. But he’s operating on assumptions he learned a thousand years ago—when social conditions were quite different. If you remember your ancient history, women weren’t exactly equal partners back then.”
She glared at him. For several moments she kept her lips pressed together. Then she said, “Okay, Zabastian. You’re here now. But you never explained how you ended up in that box.”
“Um.”
“How?” she pressed.
Luke was as interested in the answer as Olivia. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead of him, and the words he spoke came out like someone throwing rocks. “I was being punished.”
“For what?”
“The Master of the Moon is very strict about how his servants behave.”
Luke knew the man hated to say more. But at the same time, he seemed compelled to admit his sins. Since Luke had been carrying this man’s consciousness around inside himself for the past six hours, he felt the warrior’s internal struggle.
The answer rose up from deep inside the man’s psyche. “I killed a woman,” he said.
Olivia gasped, and Luke felt his own jolt of shock. He’d been in th
e ancient warrior’s mind, but only on the surface. From the first, he’d considered the guy a badass. He hadn’t known how bad.
Olivia shifted her body so that she was leaning as far away from him as she could get in the car. “Care to explain that piece of information?” she said.
“She was a woman named Devona, a priestess in the Temple of the Moon. She was new to the sacred sisters, and she was impatient to acquire more power for herself. She saw that Alana was in line to be chief priestess, so she poisoned her.”
Luke felt the warrior’s pain reverberating inside himself. But that was only part of the equation. The sentiments he heard inside his head were from another, more violent time, an ancient age when the rules of life were different from today’s. But whatever the rules had been, the warrior had violated the laws of his society.
Olivia was watching him, watching the play of emotions across his face. “You loved Alana?” she said, her voice not quite steady.
“Yes,” the warrior said, his tone soft. “We were very close. She called me to her, and she died in my arms. She suffered for many days, and she had time to think about who had hurt her and how it happened.” He dragged in a breath and let it out. “She remembered that Devona brought her a drink the night before she got sick.”
“That’s not much evidence.”
“It was unusual. That was why Alana noted it. When she told me what Devona had done, I . . . went crazy.” His voice grew hard. “I am a warrior. I am trained to act. I forced Devona to confess.”
“You think that a confession under torture is valid?”
He made a harsh sound.
“Maybe you were wrong,” Olivia said.
“I was not wrong!”
“Then you killed her?”
“Yes. But I should have let the priests take care of her punishment. They were angry that I had overstepped the bounds of my . . . commission.”
Luke wasn’t sure he could have asked any more of the warrior. But Olivia still had questions.
“And they put your spirit into the box?” she asked. “For all that time?”
“I have been out of that box seven times over the years. Each time I have defended the sacred object.”
“And then you went back into your prison?” Olivia whispered. She reached over and laid a hand on him again. Luke could feel her warm fingers pressing over his forearm.
“Yes. I must go back until I have served out my sentence.”
“How will you know?”
“The priests will decide.”
“When you’re in the box? Are you sleeping or are you aware of time passing?”
“I feel each second dragging by.” He sighed. “It is a heavy burden.”
“That must be horrible.”
“I committed a crime, and I must live with the consequences,” he said, his tone stoic.
Olivia was looking at him with new eyes. “Was Alana your lover?” she asked.
“Making love with her was forbidden. She was a priestess. And I was a warrior.”
Olivia nodded. “I’m sorry that the two of you couldn’t . . . find happiness together.”
“We lived by the Way of the Moon.”
Luke heard the pride in the man’s voice. His own voice, he realized. He hadn’t understood Zabastian very well. He still couldn’t completely figure out the man who had invaded his body, but Olivia’s questions had helped unlock some of his secrets.
“Both men and women serve the Way of the Moon?” Olivia asked.
“Now it is only men.”
“Why?”
“Because the priests took over all the duties when the order went underground.”
“Why?” she pressed.
He gave her a quick look, then focused on the road again. “Because women are more ruled by their emotions than men.”
“That’s not always a bad thing,” she murmured, and Luke could sense her emotions rising now. She was silent for several moments, and Luke waited for her to make some cutting remark.
But perhaps she was more interested in getting information than in challenging the warrior. Or perhaps she was also understanding him better. “Have you told any of this to anyone else—since you went into the box?” Olivia asked.
“No. Nobody else ever wanted to know.”
“I’m sorry,” Olivia murmured.
“Why?”
“It added to your loneliness.”
Luke felt his stomach muscles clench.
After speaking so frankly, Zabastian sank back into himself. Maybe he was sorry he had revealed so much about his past—and his punishment.
Or maybe it was a relief to get it off his chest. He was silent as they drove up Charles Street, to the northern part of Baltimore where the houses were large and situated on wooded lots. He found the street and made sure nobody was following him as he turned into the driveway and steered the junk car around to the back of the property.
oOo
Beth paced from the front of the restored Ellicott City town house where she and her husband, Len, lived to the kitchen, then back again.
Damn, why was he out of town now when she needed him?
She knew Olivia hadn’t just put down the phone. Someone else had clicked off, and when she’d tried to call her back, she got only a busy signal.
What should she do now? Calling the police seemed logical. But Olivia had called her, not the cops, which meant she didn’t want the authorities involved.
She was still trying to figure out what to do when a knock at the door made her jump.
Moving to the front window, she pushed aside the curtains and saw two men standing on the stoop. One looked like he was in his late forties or early fifties. The other was much younger. From their tough appearance, both could have been cops or special agents or something.
When the older guy caught her watching him, he pulled a wallet from his pocket and held it up so she could see an ID card. It said Decorah Security.
“We need to talk to you,” he mouthed.
She set the door on the security chain and opened it a crack.
“Talk about what?” she asked.
“Your friend, Olivia Weston is in danger.”
“How do you know?”
“We put a trace on her phone.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“We’d like to come in and talk.”
She didn’t want to let these guys in, but on the other hand, she was already sure Olivia was in trouble. “Tell me what it’s about,” she demanded.
“A shipment of antiques.”
Beth caught her breath, then slid the chain and let them in.
“Thank you,” the older man said as he stepped into her living room. As she looked at him, she decided he had a face that made you want to trust him. Hopefully, that wasn’t an illusion.
“I’m Frank Decorah, from Decorah Security, and this is Brand Marshall, one of my agents.”
“And you were listening to Olivia’s calls?”
“No. We were only checking the phone numbers she called—after we lost contact with one of our agents, Luke Garner.”
“Luke Garner? Olivia mentioned him to me. She said he’d taken over the computer repair work at her office.”
Frank nodded.
“Wait a minute. Is he a computer repair guy or one of your agents?”
“Both,” Frank answered.
Before she could respond to that, he went on, “We knew he was with Olivia, but he isn’t responding to calls. And we also know a car belonging to Luke Garner crashed into a concrete barrier in the warehouse district of Baltimore near Greektown. Before that, the vehicle almost hit a truck. The driver’s voice was shaking when he called the cops.”
“And Luke and Olivia were gone by the time the police arrived?” Beth asked, although she had already gathered as much.
“Yes.”
As she tried to imagine what had happened, Frank Decorah said, “Perhaps we should sit down.”
She nodded and gestured toward the
sofa. The men sat on it, and she took a wingback chair opposite.
“Luke called us to say he was going over to fix a computer problem at Olivia’s office,” Decorah said. He gave Beth a direct look. “But we also know her office received a shipment of antiques from France.”
“Yes, she told me. She wanted help identifying a strange looking wooden box.”
Frank sat forward. “Did you know what it was?”
“She sent me a picture.”
The man’s eyes lit up. “You have the picture?”
“Yes. But why is this so important?”
“We went to the Peterbalm offices before we came here. They were in a shambles. We think someone came to steal the box. It’s not there, and we’re hoping Luke and your friend escaped with it.”
“Yes. Olivia said armed men came in and tried to take the box. And I do think your guy and Olivia escaped with it.”
“Can I see the picture?” Decorah asked.
Beth got her phone, called up her photos, and handed it over. When the Decorah guy saw it, he caught his breath. The other agent leaned over and looked too.
“That’s it?”
“Yeah.”
“What is it, exactly?” Beth asked.
“An ancient object of power. We’ve known for weeks that it was going to arrive at Peterbalm—and that whoever received it was in grave danger. That’s why we had Luke keeping an eye on the offices.”
“And he didn’t tell Olivia anything about that.”
“On my orders,” Frank said.
“Why?”
“Because the logical thing to do would have been to call the police, but in this case, that would be a mistake. The box must be returned to its rightful owners, and the authorities would have wanted to impound it.”
Beth nodded. Now she had a better idea how much trouble her friend was in.
She cleared her throat. “You withheld information from Olivia. But I think there’s something I’d better tell you. She called me about an hour ago.”
“We know. That’s why we’re here.”
“She told me something that’s going to sound pretty weird.”
The younger agent and Decorah exchanged glances before the older man turned back to her. “We’re used to weird.”
“Okay.” Beth swallowed hard and braced herself for ridicule. “From my research, I think the box is . . . magic.”