She was already pulling her loose-fitting camouflage pants on over her leggings. Nessa had gone into another room and now carried a cache of face paints. Nessa looked forlorn and a little bit guilty, but Tori had no intention of involving her with this scheme. Besides, Nessa would say 'no' to her. At least she prayed Nessa had the good sense to refuse an invitation at this time. In a matter of seconds, Tori had dressed, the paint on her face hiding her identity from any man or woman who might come upon her.
"Be careful," Nessa prompted.
"I don't plan on getting caught," Tori said recklessly, referring to Sheridan. "He's too busy snooping."
"He could have guards posted," Nessa murmured cautiously.
Tori nodded her head. "He might, but I know the forest."
"You were almost caught once," Nessa reminded her adamantly. "You told me yourself."
Tori hesitated, startled as she felt a distant fear surge into her blood.
Cameron Savage. Yes, he'd nearly had her. She'd love to give Savage one hard punch to his well-chiseled jaw. Just one. To pay him back for the terrible humiliation in the forest. No, he deserved worse, much worse. Nothing, not even the codicil to her father's will, could make her marry him. Marry a thieftaker. Never!
Jonathan, who had rescued her from the man, claimed that Savage hadn't recognized her; had, in truth, taken her for one of the sisters at the convent. Savage infuriated her and embarrassed her. She remembered the curious way he had made her shiver then burn when he touched her.
She told herself Cameron Savage was ensconced in his lab deep in the Rockies. She had nothing to worry about.
"I have to hurry," she said quickly to Nessa. She hugged her impulsively. "I'll be back before they have time to turn around."
"Will you take a weapon?"
Tori shook her head, still remembering that long-ago tussle with Savage. Jonathan had lectured her for hours. She had never liked weapons. They scared her to death. Since her encounter with Savage, she knew Jonathan would truly disavow any further relationship with her if he caught her with a gun.
"No, I'll leave the box then return quickly."
Nessa walked with her across the office where they came to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Tori reached high and pulled out an old leather bound manuscript and the panel itself shifted back, creating a door.
Tori stroked her dogs head. "Hope, stay." The dog whined. "No, as much as I would like to have your help, I cannot take you."
Tori entered into the dark cobweb-filled tunnel, but she knew her way. The steps curled slowly down and westward then a large door suddenly appeared.
The door opened into a tiny cave, and as she moved steadily forward, she reached an opening. A waterfall covered the mouth of the cave and she gingerly found her way between different out-croppings of huge granite boulders until she stepped into a flower-covered glade.
She smiled mischievously. Sheridan and Morray and the rest of the crew would still be at the lab searching. But they wouldn't find what they looked for.
Her musing, however, was short-lived. With the possibility of guards in the forest, she had to proceed cautiously and she knew anything could happen. She turned and moved swiftly across the open glade, wishing desperately to reach the edge of the forest without being spotted. Tori headed toward a tiny hollow situated halfway down a moss-covered cliff that she'd first discovered years ago.
She had not traveled far before she thought she saw two wraith-like figures fall in behind her. She paused as if she heard or sensed some movement then continued. Changing her course slightly, she started to run.
The two men were not far behind. Reaching the forest, she set an erratic course through the dense foliage. Satisfied she'd lost Sheridan's men, she set off once again for the hiding spot.
She muttered to herself, panting as she raced along. But what would happen if she failed to hide this? Sheridan would have her head in a noose for concealing valuable information--pertinent research material. Material that had been banned by the council several years ago. Illegal material. Research that was desperately needed if a vaccine was to be found. If that happened, Morray would be established permanently in her laboratory. He could then imprison her, and perhaps convince a number of the council representatives that he was entirely in the right.
She nearly slid down the ledge but slowed herself, clinging to the bushes on the wall.
Down one more level was the tiny opening, well concealed, a perfect resting spot for her precious bundle.
She felt a prickle at the nape of her neck and looked up.
Two of Morray's guards had found her. She couldn't have been in a more vulnerable position if she'd tried. The cliff fell away in a sheer drop to the lake below. A rock slipped from beneath one foot, plummeting to the water. Her head began to spin crazily, and she felt her fragile hold on the cliff weakening.
The men laughed. Then when she would have screamed, her foot slipped again.
Tori grappled, clinging desperately to whatever she could find. She had to get down the cliff wall. She had to. So much was dependent on her.
But she knew of no safe way down. What would the men do if they realized that? Would they just wait her out, or would they come after her? They dare not come for her.
Even as she searched desperately, trying to secure new foot and handholds, the air above her was suddenly rent with a bloodcurdling cry. She wasn't sure of the sound at first, only that it sounded like a battle cry.
Then the men stopped laughing and turned to meet the unseen opponent.
She could see nothing, but she heard the sounds of battle and cries of pain emanating above. For a transient moment, she remained immobile. Then, as if kicked in the stomach, she scrambled then slid the rest of way, swiftly hiding the box of flash pins, adeptly concealing the opening.
Now a stunned silence reigned above her.
Tori could hear nothing from her resting spot on the cliff wall save the soft voice of the wind.
Tori sat back, breathing hard, determined to wait here.
Yet she had to go back, had to play a role.
She scrambled from her spot. Reaching the top, she moved cautiously, slowly peering over the edge. The guards who had followed her were gone, and there was no sign of her rescuer.
Why and who had so swiftly and miraculously rescued her? It had not been Jonathan, Tori was certain. He would have stayed.
The Phantom...
She felt suddenly breathless. He had come to life soon after that day in the forest when she had recklessly left the Tower City and heedlessly stumbled on the gathering of thieves and thieftakers, when he had stunned all the thieftakers saving her father.
Had he come here today then? The Phantom? A super hero come to save a damsel in distress? No, there was no such thing as phantoms or super heroes. They were found only in the old legends passed down from another world and another time.
A terrible shudder wracked her body.
But what of the box? Had he seen where she stashed it? Would he respect its resting spot?
A lump caught in her throat. She had no choice, had to trust in the integrity of this unknown man.
She wanted to hide, felt a horrible urge to return to the safety of the convent. She would give up the research, and give up her life with her sister. Lord, but she wanted to run until she could go no farther.
It was tempting, so very tempting.
No. She had to beat Morray and Sheridan, had to finish what had already begun. Too many lives were at stake here, hinging on her success and her honor. She was Advisor DeMontville's daughter.
She inhaled and exhaled deeply. Then closing her eyes tightly, Tori prayed for guidance.
Even now, she felt the need to find Jonathan and tell him all that had occurred, and that Sheridan, Morray, Hammond, and the high priestess Janellen would be searching her files.
She stiffened regally. She was Victoria DeMontville.
I am strong! she vowed to herself. She would not let Sheridan or Morray
intimidate her.
Yet her hand still trembled. Rubbish, she assured herself. Morray couldn't touch her, not tonight--not for days or weeks, even months! Not ever. She wouldn't let him. If Sheridan was planning a union between Morray and herself, he'd wait a long, long time.
She would have more than enough time to hide away if anything was uncovered. She was safe, surely.
But Morray meant to have her, her research center, and her body whether she was willing or not. She was certain of it.
He must know how she felt about him. That she abhorred him. Yet he acted so very sure of himself.
Oh, Lord...
He had something planned, and that thought filled her with dread
The Phantom
"Little rebel."
The Phantom was sitting in his glider staring at a small box of flash pins. It had taken infinite patience and practiced skill to rescue one Victoria DeMontville from complete ruin. He had not wanted to show his hand so soon, but he could see no other way.
"What the hell did she think she was doing?" Cameron muttered. Yet he knew, in truth, he had to admit that Tori had woven deceit and intrigue around herself, and she'd had no other choice. He didn't have to see what the pins contained to know they held a wealth of damning information on them.
But too much time had passed. After Drake had given him the letter from Jonathan, he'd done some investigating on his own. That had taken valuable time. Then he'd seen to some personal matters.
Sheridan and Morray must have heard the same rumors as Drake, and they had beaten him to Tower City. He shouldn't have tarried at Reding, shouldn't have wasted precious time on a few simple details he could have seen to later.
The Phantom sighed deeply. "Now what?"
He set the box on the seat next to him, staring into the distance for several long seconds, his mind racing, plotting. Slowly the glider lifted from the ground, air borne, hovering a few feet off the earth then it shot skyward.
He landed on a grassy knoll near his cabin then walked the short distance to his second home. Sliding a flash pin into his computer, he turned on the monitor intent on seeing just what he'd discovered.
Research on genetic surgery--pros and cons--what went wrong years ago when the process was first discovered.
The chemical make up of the signe virus vaccine Tori was working on, incomplete but almost finished. And the little white flower she had pleaded so hard to keep on that day two years ago when he had encountered her in the forest. Jonathan had given it to her when his gut told him no.
Key words to unblock the computers in their lab and so much more.
Pouring himself a glass of water, he drank deeply. He really didn't no how to proceed with this. Quickly, he told himself and carefully, but so far nothing had gone as he planned.
He would need to call on Jonathan. Perhaps between the two of them they could come up with a viable plan. Marriage to Tori would have to be accomplished as soon as possible.
And how would that go? He had not planned on marriage any time soon. He had never been in love. What would that emotion feel like? Could he learn to love Victoria DeMontville?
She was beautiful, cunning, intriguing, courageous and she was very willful. She had always had her own way. She had managed to come and go as she pleased while she was living at the nunnery. He laughed. Banishment, hardly. When Tori made up the rules as she went.
He had promised. But he had never thought the boon would mean marriage. Perhaps the advisor was even more cunning than Tori. Had DeMontville known at the time what he meant to ask?
He could not have known he would be assassinated at the hands of the crime syndicates he fought so hard to abolish. By Quentin Morray's little band of cutthroats. Thieftakers, just another name for criminals.
He understood why Tori hated them so. And that was another strike against him in Tori's eyes. She believed wholeheartedly that he was a thieftaker.
Victoria
Tori rubbed the itchy spot on her cheek, in the process smearing some of the paint she and Nessa had put there. She was sitting on the corner of Jonathan's desk, swinging one leg. "It was the strangest thing. Just when I thought it was over for me, when I thought I would be hauled unwillingly to Sheridan--silence reigned. I'm not sure what happened. When I reached the top of the cliff, every one had vanished." She hesitated. "And don't try to convince me it was my imagination. It wasn't."
Tori's tone was matter-of-fact and strangely calm as she told Jonathan what had happened. She had managed to quiet her own skepticism by reminding herself that Jonathan was in a tenuous position. He would have to refuse her help if she showed any doubt.
If they hadn't been children together--if they hadn't shared so much in the last ten years--she knew Jonathan would have balked at her participation in this long ago.
But they had an unspoken agreement. Together they had seen what the thieves and the greedy thieftakers could do to corrupt a frightened global village. At first they had thought a vaccine would end the problem, but it passed far beyond a simple vaccine. Now several mutant strains of the signe virus existed, threatened, and one by one, took control, nearly defeating the people, taking their courage from them.
Then Jonathan had stood up to the assembly that had thought isolation and purification would prove the solution to all the cities problems. Jonathan had assumed a power above and beyond that of his station and become a peaceful rebel. Now he tread a precarious path, balancing himself on a high-wire in a dangerous and often volatile political arena. Only a vaccine for each individual strain could absolve Jonathan. And if it wasn't forth coming...
Now as she explained all that happened, her cousin was watching her with a worried look. She had been careful not to tell him about Sheridan's words to Morray, the little speech that not so subtly implied he would install Morray as a department head at her lab or about the computer blocks he'd stumbled across. She had simply told him about Sheridan's arrival with the others then about the way he'd taken over, assuming immediate control.
And about the man who had mysteriously appeared and left without showing himself.
She was watching Jonathan as he paced, his fingers laced behind his back, his brow knitted. Though a number of Jonathan's men were in the building, the small den where she spoke with him was astonishingly quiet except for the natural sounds of the City floating in through the open window, the people going to-and-fro downtown, the constant whistle of the mass transit as it sped by.
The weather was beautiful, sunny, and just warm enough to create thoughts of summer. The air smelled richly of Daphne, lavender, and sunshine, mixed with freshness of furniture polish and musty books. The City provided so many conveniences. Yet the freedom lay outside the gates, in the cool forest and the bubbling springs.
Jonathan had the best of both worlds.
Well, that wasn't exactly true. Although he did come and go, he was still beset by the laws and the ever-increasing restrictions, covenants that made it difficult even for the representatives to travel between the cities. It was like pulling teeth to get the necessary papers.
Jonathan had been so quiet as he paced, but suddenly he stopped and turned around, frowning at her.
"Tell me about him again," he demanded.
She frowned back, shaking her head. "Who? Sheridan? Morray? Hammond--"
"The Phantom, Tori! The Phantom!" Jonathan said and groaned with frustration.
Tori, clenching the glass of juice she held in a death grip, said, "Jonathan, if you would just clarify what you want to know."
"Him. The Phantom."
"I didn't see...him. The Phantom. The entire affair took place in a matter of minutes. As for this cloaked hero, he left. Didn't say a word or wait for a thank you."
"You didn't see the man who rescued you?"
"I did not."
"Was he dressed in black?"
"Jonathan! Haven't you listened to a word I've said? He had the most terrifying yell just before he attacked Morray's men. It was so fast. Th
en I waited for everyone to leave."
"You're sure he left."
"What? Of course I'm sure." But she wasn't. Why on earth would he protect her that way then leave?
Jonathan smiled suddenly, looking out the window. Then he turned back to Tori and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her close.
"He received my message!"
"And you're crazy," she accused him, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead and trying to understand his sudden merriment. "Jonathan..."
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