There was a cold lunch set out on the table and, incongruously, a large bottle of Evian. Monique took a seat, popped a slice of meat in her mouth, and chewed intently as she watched Clare sit. "Edward does have a point. How did you and Pablo pass through the portal?"
Clare shifted warily in her seat. "It was all a bit rushed. I didn't have long to read up on the method."
"You were there for five days," Edward observed. "Surely you had time to read a few books."
Damn Edward for trying to score points at her expense. She shrugged and took her time filling her goblet with water from the bottle. "Luka only mentioned it the day before we came through. I spent about four hours in the library before I was supposed to send him."
Her grandmother nodded, her gaze distant. Something flashed in her eyes. Sadness? Regret? Unlikely. She seemed to shake off her mood and turned to Clare. "Sending someone through a window should be easy for us. It's in our blood. You simply wish them through to the other side. I suspect you failed because you weren't clear in your purpose."
Anxiety twisted in Clare's chest. If her grandmother knew how close she was to the truth, there would be trouble. Clare concentrated on maintaining a neutral expression. It would be safer to change the subject, but this was a chance to learn more about using the portals. "How do I summon someone to me as you did with Edward?"
"Have your subject standing on the other side, then simply draw the symbol you've previously given them in the air with your fingertip or a blade. They can then pass through."
"So the portal opens where the person is and the place doesn't matter?"
"Exactly."
"Does one need to draw a circle of protection so nothing bad comes through?"
Monique chortled with genuine amusement. "Only cast a circle if you're summoning spirits, darling. You don't need it for the portal."
Summoning spirits! Clare was unlikely to try that in a hurry, and why would she even want to.
Now her grandmother was relaxed, Clare could slip in a question that had been on her mind. "Changing the subject slightly, why does Luka suffer from low psychic energy?"
The mirth dropped from Monique's face and she pushed the question away with a jerk of her hand. "Time to get down to business. Edward, how are the production plans for Bodyglo progressing?
Clare half listened as Edward quoted schedules and distribution plans he had memorized. Nobody she'd met in Taldom was afflicted like Luka and it couldn't be a side effect of travelling through the portal to another world, otherwise she and Pablo would be affected. That meant Luka's psychic energy problem had another cause. If she could find out what it was, maybe she could help him.
"Are you happy with the plans?" Monique asked.
Clare nodded, a flash of unease passing through her. She had no idea what she was agreeing to, but she wouldn't endear herself to Monique if she admitted she hadn't listened.
"Good." Monique stood. Clare and Edward followed. "You return to Amsterdam with Edward, darling. I suggest you take the train back to Château Montgatine. Send Luka here as soon as possible and get back to New York. Edward will supervise things at Sloterdijk."
Just the thought of Luka falling into her grandmother's hands sent a chill though her. Rubbing her arms, she followed her grandmother and Edward up the steps towards the bedrooms.
Clare had wracked her brain to come up with a clever way to broach the subject of taking Pablo back and drawn a blank. For want of any better ideas, the marketing VP in her went for the assumptive angle. "I'll just go and fetch Pablo."
"Pablo?" Monique halted, eyebrows raised. "Why?"
"We're going home, aren't we?" Clare attempted nonchalance, but her heart raced.
Her grandmother narrowed her eyes to sharp blue slits. Clare held herself steady under the scrutiny.
Monique twirled away with a swirl of skirts. "No."
"What do you mean, no?" Clare hurried to catch up as the older woman marched down the corridor beside Edward.
"Pablo was once a favorite of mine. I'd forgotten how pretty he is."
Pretty? Was that all Pablo was to Monique? A mixture of anger and determination surged through her. "I'm taking him back, Grandma."
Anger flared in Monique's eyes. The woman had always hated being called grandma, even when she looked more the part.
"Give me one good reason why I should let you have him?" Monique demanded.
"I want him for the same reason you do."
Edward and Monique exchanged a glance. "I doubt that," Monique said.
If Clare were going to get her way, she needed more leverage. It came to her in a flash. "Give me Pablo and I'll send Luka to Taldom. Otherwise you can forget it."
The air between them vibrated as Monique glared at her. Edward stepped back and flattened himself against the wall. A prickling sensation raced across Clare's skin, raising the tiny hairs on her body.
"Moray's new product depends on Luka returning here," Monique said. "Would you bargain away your company?"
"My company?" Once Clare had been gullible enough to believe that, but not now.
"All right. Take Pablo back, but he stays with Edward until you send Luka here to me."
Clare had no intention of leaving Pablo with Edward. As soon as she was gone, Monique would probably summon Pablo back to Taldom.
Monique held up a finger. "I'll give you one minute to get him, or he stays here."
Clare hitched up her skirt and bolted down the corridor, counting the doors. "Pablo," she shouted, as she burst through the door to the room where they'd slept. There was no sign of him. Why the hell didn't he stay where he was told? When she ran out into the corridor again, Monique and Edward had disappeared, presumably into the room with the portal. Counting off the seconds in her head, she yelled Pablo's name. If he wasn't in hearing distance, they were out of time.
He ran up the stairs at the end of the corridor. "What is it?"
"Time to leave." She grabbed his hand and hauled him into Monique's room.
Monique managed to peer down her nose at Pablo, although he had four inches on her. "You made it. What a shame." She pointed at the mirror, which was once again a window on the office in Amsterdam. Edward had already stepped through and was visible waiting on the other side. "Go," Monique said.
Holding hands, Clare and Pablo stepped through. The gray, airless void of nothingness between worlds held them for a moment. Pablo's hand tightened around hers, then they were standing in an old office. Although she wasn't familiar with the Sloterdijk site, the peeling wallpaper and dirty brown linoleum told her this was a derelict building. It had probably been left standing because it housed the portal.
Edward stepped forward and pulled Clare away from Pablo. Two uniformed security guards from the production facility grabbed Pablo's arms and cuffed them behind his back.
"Just in case you have other ideas," Edward said beside her ear.
Clare struggled out of Edward's grasp and fought down the bile rising in her throat. He'd never touched her before. The effect was like his smell, only magnified a hundred times. It physically turned her stomach.
"Once Monique has Vlad, I'll release the Spaniard."
"No!" The security guards had pulled Pablo to the door, but he'd obviously heard what Edward said. "Don't send him, Clare. She'll kill him this time."
Clare ached to reassure Pablo. She sucked in a breath and willed the rush of her pulse to slow. She needed to focus, take it one step at a time. The first thing was to find out where they were taking Pablo. She must gain Edward's trust.
His gaze slid down her body. She suppressed a shudder and pasted on a smile.
"We're both on the same side, you know. I'm hardly going to cross my own grandmother."
Edward sat on the edge of his desk. "Maybe. Maybe not."
"Pablo didn't get any lunch. Let me take him something."
With a disinterested shrug, Edward picked up a paperclip and bent it out of shape. "Can't you bear to be parted from the Spaniard?"
"What?" It took Clare a moment to catch his meaning and she rolled her eyes. "Why do men think everything is about sex?" She gave up trying to be nice. It was time to pull rank. She would locate security herself. She headed for the door.
"Where do you think you're going?"
She glanced over her shoulder. "Anywhere I damn well like."
He took a threatening step forward and Clare tripped, her long skirt snagging around her legs. She caught herself with a hand against the wall. She had almost forgotten she was still wearing the old-fashioned clothes.
Edward stared at her without blinking for so long, he reminded her of a snake. "I can't stop thinking about you."
He took another step forward. She retreated, fear cold in her gut. Something was very wrong with Edward. Clare lunged for the door. With a burst of impossible speed, he grabbed her arm and yanked at her dress. The fabric bit into her flesh before ripping away to reveal her bra. For a moment, the blank white disbelief of shock wiped her mind, then instinct cut in. She slammed her knee up into his groin, expecting to connect with the vulnerable softness of his testicles.
Instead, her knee hit bone. Pain lanced beneath her kneecap and she gasped in a ragged breath.
The madness of panic gripped her. She clutched uselessly at his arms as he flung her back against the wall. Her head slammed hard and pain momentarily blacked out her sight. Stars danced before her eyes. He stared at her, no hint of discomfort from her knee thrust evident, his expression eerily blank.
His sour smell nearly overwhelmed her. Bile welled in her throat. Edward wasn't human. She was sure of that now.
"What are you?" she gasped.
One of his hands closed around her throat, pinning her to the wall. She froze, struggling for breath as he unfastened his pants. He grabbed her wrist and she didn't have the strength or the will to fight him as he forced her hand through his open zipper. Her fingers brushed over a perfectly smooth surface. There was nothing there. He was like a plastic store dummy.
He leaned in, his face so close she couldn't focus on him. The pressure on her windpipe increased. She gagged for breath. Her head throbbed as though it would burst. Lights flashed behind her eyelids. Fear pressed in on her like a dark, consuming cloud. She was going to die.
"I hope that satisfies your curiosity," Edward whispered. "Now, I'm going to satisfy mine."
Chapter Ten
Clare came to slowly. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth and her throat ached. When she tried to turn her head against the hard mattress, pain lanced through her neck and shoulders.
Then she remembered. Edward had gone berserk.
She curled up and hugged her knees. Every beat of her pulse drummed painfully in the back of her head.
Gentle fingers stroked her cheek. "Clare. Wake up, mi amor."
The fluorescent strip light glaring off the white walls and ceiling blinded her for a moment. She was in what looked like a prison cell with bars over the window. Pablo sat beside her on the bed, his forehead lined with worry.
"You were unconscious for so long, I thought that creep had done you permanent damage."
Cold sweat clung to her body as memories tumbled back. Edward's hand on her throat. The hard, smooth place where he'd pressed her fingers. What was he? What had he done to her after she passed out?
Clare touched her neck gingerly. "I think…" She winced at the clawing, dry pain in her throat. Everything that had happened almost overwhelmed her.
Pablo lay beside her on the narrow bed and wrapped her in his arms. "Shh, now, shh. Take your time."
He stroked her hair as she clung to him. Now they were away from Monique, Pablo seemed like a different man, more sure of himself.
After a while, her strength returned enough for her to sit up. Pablo supported her as she turned her sore neck and flexed her shoulders. Gradually, the stiffness eased and the pain became bearable.
She glanced around the small cell, noting the gray light of a cloudy day beyond the window bars. "How long have we been here?"
"You were unconscious for nearly three hours." Pablo tucked her hair behind her ears. "Did the lowlife in the office do this to you?"
Clare looked down to see the front of a large Moray promotional T-shirt. What had happened to her dress? Memories filtered back until the image of her gaping bodice and exposed bra filled her head. Sickness swam into her belly.
"That was Edward Gregore, the guy who works with me. Or should I say, used to work with me. I'll make damn sure he's kicked out of Moray. Damn perverted jerk."
The thought that Edward had touched her body made her stomach heave. "Let's get out of this rat hole and back to Luka."
The first step in her plan had been to find out where they were holding Pablo. She'd succeeded. Not quite in the way she'd hoped, but she was here.
Leaning on Pablo's arm, Clare struggled to her feet. She felt as though she'd been run over by a truck. Every muscle in her body ached. The oversized white T-shirt hung to mid-thigh level like a sack. Ironically, it was decorated with a picture of her own face and the words, "Faceglo, it must be magic." The only part of her original outfit she had left was the silk pumps.
"Do you know where we are?"
"They brought me here in a van. The building's on the same industrial estate as the Moray plant. It must belong to the security company."
Clare raised her hand to knock on the metal cell door, but the pain in her shoulder made her gasp and hug her arm.
Pablo rubbed her back. "Careful. Let me do the physical stuff." He thumped on the door with his fist.
The small hatch in the door clicked open. Dark eyes topped with bushy eyebrows appeared. Clare straightened her back and banished the pain from her face. "I need to talk to you."
Bolts snapped back, then a guard appeared in the doorway. Another guard stood close behind him, a Taser in his hand.
The man in front parted his lips, revealing stained teeth. "What you want?" Despite his question, the man's expression was disinterested. He was just doing a job. He wasn't paid to care.
She pointed at the picture of her face on her T-shirt. "My name is Clare Moray. I'm president of the Moray Corporation. I want to speak to your boss."
The man glanced at his colleague. They exchanged a few words in what she assumed was Dutch. "You wait," he said in a thick accent and walked off, leaving the Taser guy guarding the door.
After a few minutes, the guard returned accompanied by an older man with graying hair, and a paunch stretching the fabric of his jacket. One hard breath and he'd burst his buttons. He halted in front of Clare and gave her a head-to-toe scan. "What is this you say?"
She repeated who she was and pointed to her neck, assuming from the pain there must be visible bruises. "I need medical attention. Edward Gregore attacked me."
"You talk to Mr. Gregore," he said. "We take you to him."
"No." That was the last thing she wanted. "I work for Moray as well. If you take instructions from him, you take instructions from me."
The man shook his head. "You talk to Mr. Gregore."
She knew this type of man, king in his own little world. He wasn't about to take orders from an interloper, especially not a woman he'd just undressed with his eyes.
She checked out the logo on his uniform, a hand cradling a small house. The security company must be European as she didn't recognize it. "Pablo, do you know this company?"
"It's German. They're called Sicherhand. Luka has used them."
"Will Luka know the boss?"
"Maybe."
She faced the little jobsworth blocking her way, who puffed out his chest with irritation. How the jacket buttons hung on, she didn't know. "I want to speak to someone in charge."
The man slapped his chest. "I am the one."
"Not you. The big boss."
"No," he said and crossed his arms.
They weren't getting anywhere. "Have you heard of Mr. Vlad?"
The man's face remained blank. She didn't really
expect him to read the financial pages of the newspaper, but it was worth a try. She pointed at Pablo. "This is Mr. Vlad's personal assistant."
The man glanced at Pablo's old-fashioned outfit, disbelief plain on his face.
"He tells me the company you work for handles the security at some of Mr. Vlad's businesses. Take me to a telephone right now, or when I get out of here, Sicherhand will lose the Moray contract and any contracts with Mr. Vlad's companies. I'll make sure the management at Sicherhand knows that you're to blame."
The man's English might not be perfect, but he got the message that his job might be at risk. With an angry gesture, he waved away the guard with the Taser and led Clare and Pablo to a small, smoke-filled office at the end of the corridor.
Pablo dialed the number for Château Montgatine on the dirty black phone and handed it to Clare. She looked at it with distaste, then held it to her ear. Her heart raced as the ringing continued. Then a young female voice answered in French.
"Give me Mr. Vlad, please," Clare said.
A few seconds later, Luka came on the phone. "Clare, where are you? Are you well? Is Pablo with you?" She savored the tingle of excitement that passed through her at hearing the deep smooth tone of his voice.
"We're fine." He started to speak again, but she cut him off. "Sorry, I need you to listen. We're in Amsterdam near the Moray production plant at Sloterdijk. We're being held by a German security firm called Sicherhand. Pablo thought you knew them."
"I do. It's owned by a British company now."
"Do you know someone in senior management?"
"Will the chairman do?"
"Can you get hold of him and arrange for someone to phone this office?" She read out the number to him. "Get them to release us."
"Of course. Do you need anything else?"
Clare laughed without humor and rolled her eyes at Pablo. "Clothes, money, and food."
"No problem. I'll arrange everything."
"Thank you."
"May I speak with Pablo?"
Clare passed the phone over and watched the emotions sweep across Pablo's face as he spoke in rapid Spanish to Luka. The intensity of his feelings vibrated around him. It was almost painful to watch, painful for her anyway, and too complicated to think about. She rubbed her eyes and lowered herself gingerly into a plastic chair.
Cursed Kiss (Paranormal Romance) Page 9