“I won’t have you play me for a fool, Mia.”
“I’m not, I swear.” She sniffed and wiped away a tear. “I promise you, Nikolai treats me like a daughter, nothing more. I never had a father. But I won’t see him anymore if it bothers you.”
She took his hand and kissed it. He was mad at himself for letting her, but he didn’t pull it away. She was saying exactly what he needed to hear.
“I have you, Reid, and that’s all that matters. You’re all I need. You’re everything. I love you.” She looked at him, her big eyes dewy with tears. “Please? Forgive me?”
A little voice in the back of his mind told him that her words were too perfect, her timing too convenient, but he chose not to listen.
He pulled her close and he kissed her. “I love you, too.”
One Hundred Ten
San Francisco Bay
Nikolai usually loved to sail across the bay, but he caught himself clenching his fists, reopening his sores. He was more anxious about seeing Marseille and Creighton than he wanted to admit, Creighton more so than his sister. He’d work things out with Marseille, as they always did. But with Simon . . . Nikolai was still furious and wouldn’t be quick to get over it.
He tried to enjoy himself as Will and Tatiana took turns pointing things out.
“We’ve almost got Horseshoe Bay cleared,” Will said. “It’ll be our main point of export.”
“The orchards are producing, businesses are thriving, people are renovating houses to live in. It’s become a real community.” Tatiana glowed like when she was eight years old and completed her first solo sail. “Wait till you see where you’re staying, Dad.”
“You haven’t had enough time to restore Cavello Point . . . have you? Exactly how long have you been coming here?”
Tatiana laughed. “Not that long. Besides, it’s better than that.”
“Hmm . . . The Inn Above Tide?” Nikolai craned his neck trying to see it.
“No, it was too far gone, but that’s part of the surprise—we tore it down.”
Tatiana grinned, and Nikolai knew immediately what the surprise was. “The Hotel Sausalito.”
“Yes! It’s a guesthouse for new arrivals. Where we tore down The Inn, that’s Aunt Marseille’s new party spot. She calls it ‘The Landing.’”
“I bet she started planning a party for tonight the minute the Belle was spotted. Look.” Will pointed. “She’s waving to us.”
Nikolai saw the brilliant shock of red hair, so like their mother’s. If that were the only way they were alike, the two women might have gotten along better. But there had always been friction, particularly over the business. He understood why Marseille left Washington, and he’d acknowledge that, right after he chewed her out for not handling her exit more gracefully.
The crewmen eased the Belle up to the freshly rebuilt dock.
Marseille held out her arms. “Niko, I’ve missed you!”
Nikolai stepped onto the dock and hugged her tightly, lifting her off her feet. “I’ve missed you more.”
She laughed, and just like that, everything between them was healed. With some, it was that easy. With others? Creighton hadn’t even bothered to meet them. That didn’t bode well.
There was a touch at his elbow.
“Hello, I’m Mia.” Mia extended her hand past him to Marseille.
Marseille shook Mia’s hand and appraised her with exaggerated affect. “They don’t make them prettier than this one, do they Nikolai?”
Mia giggled, snaking her arm into the crook of his elbow.
“Mia, this is my sister, Marseille.”
“I’m so happy to be here,” Mia said. “All the trees—it’s gorgeous.” Her smile seemed to radiate from the inside, and Nikolai had to admit she was an exceptional beauty.
“I have your bag, Mia.” Reid approached, his expression strained.
Nikolai realized Mia was still holding his elbow, so he reached for the bag. “Here, let me help with that. Do you have your balance, my dear?” he asked Mia.
“Yes, I’m fine now, thank you.” She transferred her grasp to Reid’s arm.
“She had a recent head injury,” Nikolai explained to Marseille.
Reid looked relieved, but Mia’s smile may have been less genuine. Nikolai hoped it was his imagination.
“Marseille, this is Reid,” Nikolai said. “He’s a medic and has taken excellent care of Mia. He’s here all the way from Colorado.”
“Colorado?” Marseille said. “I’ve met people from a lot of places, but none as far as Colorado. I’d love to hear about it.”
“Yes ma’am,” Reid replied.
“Call me Marseille. ‘Ma’am’ sounds much older than I feel.”
“Follow me, everyone,” Tatiana called out.
Nikolai waited for the crowd to trail after Tatiana before he headed toward the hotel. Creighton wasn’t the only one missing. He still hadn’t caught sight of the person he most hoped to see, and Kennedy didn’t seem to be around either.
As everyone filed into the hotel, Nikolai stopped to admire the crumbling city of San Francisco across the water. The skyline was still identifiable, if a little malformed, and even in its advanced state of decay, Nikolai found it a view to behold.
Before going inside, he took a last look at the dock to make sure no one had been left behind. From there, he had a full view of “The Landing” and appreciated the improvements on Marseille’s design from back home. A huge bonfire was ready for lighting, precisely the right distance from the bar. There was a cooking area, tables and benches, torches, a dance floor with a stage for the band, and a gazebo off at a distance. The shed behind the stage brought a smile to his face—he was sure he knew what was inside.
He’d gone too long without music or dancing. A party would do his heart good.
Nikolai entered the lobby to find the crowd had already dispersed. He climbed the stairs and caught up with Tatiana who was showing Reid and Mia to their room.
“There you are, Dad. I was just saying, this is the communal washroom, and that’s your room there.” She pointed to a door.
“Excellent,” he said. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to rest up before the festivities tonight. Oh, this is Mia’s bag.” He handed it to Reid. “I wonder what I did with mine?”
“I believe someone already put it in your room,” Tatiana said with a conspiratorial grin.
Nikolai understood and braced himself. He opened the door and Josh barreled into his arms. “My golden boy. Now this day is perfect.”
One Hundred Eleven
Lost Angeles
Pascal found his quarters tidied—bed made, bathroom cleaned, toiletries and clothing stowed. The brandy was on the nightstand with two clean glasses. He splashed water on his face, then poured a small glass. Not too much. He needed to keep his thoughts clear. He sat and stared out the window. Everything he saw was his, but it didn’t feel the same without Linus. He wondered if it ever would. Maybe once he found Brandt.
It would feel damn satisfying to inflict pain on Brandt and that stranger, Reid.
Each moment that passed brought Justine closer to revealing where they’d gone. Pascal was certain he already knew the truth as surely as if she’d said it: she’d sent Brandt to her home, the home of the missionaries, where he could have a life of ease and plenty.
Ellianna had been right—Justine wasn’t like the other missionary girls he’d tortured over the years. They had no idea how to get home, other than to find a church and pray for salvation. Justine was different. Special. She knew, and she’d told Brandt. Soon, she would tell him, too.
There was a rap at the door. Minou stepped in and stood ramrod straight at the door.
“Come sit. I have another mission for you. Brandy?”
“No thank you.” She sat in the chair opposite him.
“I’m about to tell you my most guarded secret. You won’t speak of it to another soul.”
“Sir, you have my word.”
“How d
o I know your word is good?”
“I have no family or friends. My work is my life, and that only continues at your pleasure. Without your trust, I have nothing. So my word is everything.”
Pascal already knew Minou was right for the job, but her commitment was gratifying to hear. “I’ve trained an elite platoon for long-range missions. They ride bicycles.”
Minou’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.
“My scientists are using a newly discovered supply of tires that, for reasons unknown, don’t disintegrate. I’ll use them on motorcycles and cars eventually, but until then, bikes can travel faster and longer than the best Blades. It was to be a surprise for Linus’s birthday.”
He paused. Minou wisely did not say anything while he gathered himself.
“I’m placing the Travelers in your command,” he continued. “Your first mission is imminent. You have a day, two at most, to learn to ride a bike and organize your troops.”
“I’ll master the bike by sun-up, sir. The men will be ready to leave at your command.”
Pascal didn’t doubt she’d be true to her word. “We’re going after Brandt and the stranger. I’ll drive the vehicle, and your platoon will follow in secret. You’ll face long hours and rough terrain in unknown territory, but at the end is the home of the missionaries.”
“You know where it is?” Minou’s tone was incredulous, and Pascal enjoyed seeing the flare of emotion.
“Not yet, but Justine does. The trip will be no easy task, especially with green soldiers, but I know you’re good for it. And you will be rewarded appropriately. If we succeed.”
“We’ll succeed. I guarantee it.”
Pascal sent Minou to Gomez for further instructions, and he went to see Justine. As he stood outside her door, he almost felt sorry for her. He’d faced his demons and emerged stronger. It was hardly a fair fight.
He opened the door to find her dressed and sitting by the window.
“Hello, Justine. It’s good to see you up.”
She glared at him. “Why do you want to find Brandt?”
“Apparently we’re dispensing with the pleasantries,” he said. “Okay, I want to find Brandt to reunite you two, of course. What other reason would there be?”
“What’s in it for you?”
He sat on the foot of the bed across from her. “I don’t like him thinking I killed you. I want to show him you’re alive and well.”
“That’s not all.”
“I don’t like unpaid debts. He saved my child’s life. I want him to know I saved his. Then we’ll be even.” He could see she wasn’t completely satisfied. “It’s not enough that I want to help you find him?”
“There’s a lot more at stake than that.”
“You’re a perceptive woman.”
“How about you dispense with the bullshit and tell me the deal.”
Pascal found this refreshing after the sappy, sentimental conversations they’d been having. “All right, stop me if I get something wrong. The strangers were looking for seeds. You’re a missionary—your people grow food; they have seeds. You know how to get home, and you sent Brandt and Reid there, to get seeds. Does that sound about right?”
“You’re right about one thing: I came here as a missionary. But so have lots of girls. What on earth makes you think I know how to get home any more than the rest of them?”
“You’re different. I haven’t figured out how or why yet, but for whatever reason, they don’t know how to get home, while you do. No use denying—I can see on your face I’m right. So let’s stop wasting our time with this dance of lies and half-truths, shall we? You want to go home. You want your baby to grow up where there’s food, where she has a daddy. I can help you get there. I’m the only one who can.”
Her brow furrowed. Pascal schooled his own face, though he was smiling inside. She would come around. She was coming around now.
“For argument’s sake, let’s say you’re right,” she said. “Let’s say I want to go home, that I know how to get there, and Brandt is there waiting for me. If I took you there, there’s nothing to stop you from taking everything and leaving my people with nothing. Even if you were my only chance of getting home, I couldn’t risk it because it’s not just about me and what I want. There are hundreds of lives at stake.”
“We’re talking about more than hundreds of lives. Not just your people, but the rest of mankind. It’s time you saw past the brainwashing, Justine. Your people believe that to protect what’s theirs, they need to keep it for themselves. They’re wrong. Seeds are not a finite resource. The more you give away, the more there will be.”
He could see the gears turning.
“You’re a bright woman,” he continued. “So I’m sure you’ve considered the possibility of a blight or fire wiping out your people’s food stores. By holding all the resources in one location, you’re placing the existence of mankind at risk. Don’t you see that sharing with others would protect your people, not harm them?” He paused while she processed this. “Blindfold me or sedate me or whatever it is your people do to keep their location secret, but don’t keep the seeds from me. Let me feed my child. In the long run, it will ensure you can feed yours.”
It was nearly impossible for Pascal not to react as her thoughts played across her face.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
“See that you do. I’ll return tomorrow morning for your answer.”
After the door closed behind him, he allowed himself a smile.
“Has there been a breakthrough?” Advani asked.
“You could say that,” he said. “Gomez, watch Justine’s door. I need to speak to the doctor in private.”
He strode to his quarters, hearing the uneven clip-clop of Advani’s heels behind him.
Pascal held the door for her. “Sit down.” He indicated the pair of chairs at the window.
Advani sat, crossing her ankles and folding her hands in her lap.
He turned the lock on the door, then crossed to the other chair. He sat and looked the doctor over for any signs of apprehension. Her expression was of mild curiosity, expectation. But no fear. That was good.
“Parvati, we’re embarking on an important mission, you and I. One with far-reaching implications, not only for our community, but for the future of humanity.” He paused to let that sink in. “We’re going to the home of the missionaries. Do you know what that means?”
“The girls who come from there are healthy beyond anything I’ve seen. Their body mass, fingernails, teeth, skin—everything indicates they have far better nutrition than we do.”
“For that reason, I’ve been gathering intelligence on the missionaries for years,” Pascal said. “But I’ve been unable to learn where they come from . . . until now. Justine is going to take us there, but it requires deft handling, and I need your cooperation.”
“Of course.” The doctor’s eyebrows were raised, her lips curled in a grin.
“First and foremost, she must believe she is still pregnant, whether she is or not. And that it’s safe to travel, regardless of the truth. Is that a problem?”
“No, not considering what’s at stake.”
“I want you to alleviate any concerns she expresses about traveling by car. She’ll have other questions. Answer the best you can with our ultimate goal in mind.”
Parvati nodded. “If I’m uncertain, I’ll say I’ll check into it and come to you.”
“Good. If she makes any demands, bring those to me too. Don’t ask questions or make suggestions. Let her initiate. It’s critical that she feels in control.”
“I understand.”
“You’re not to speak of any of this. To anyone. Am I clear?”
“Perfectly.”
Pascal went to the door. Before he opened it he turned to her. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what this could mean for our future. For your daughter’s future.”
One Hundred Twelve
Hotel Sausalito
“I don�
��t want you to overdo it.” Reid hated being the bad guy, hated disappointing Mia.
“Please?” she pleaded. “It’s just dinner. I want to meet everyone and listen to the music.”
“If it means that much to you . . .”
Mia clapped her hands. “And a few dances.” She rushed to the closet where she’d hung the clothing Tatiana gave her. “What am I going to wear?”
“You don’t take anything slow, do you.” Reid laughed to conceal his discomfort. He was worried about her over-exerting herself, plus he didn’t know how to dance and didn’t like the idea of her dancing with anyone else. Especially Nikolai. She’d sworn that his interest was fatherly, but Reid still seethed when he pictured Nikolai holding her hand.
“What do you think of this?” Mia asked, holding up a black and white blouse.
“You look great already.” He’d never seen anything prettier than her in that pink dress.
“This is rumpled.” She ran her hands down the sides of the dress. “But it does twirl nicely.” She spun and the skirt flared.
There was a knock at the door. Mia ran on her tiptoes and opened it.
“Your dinner?” A pimple-faced boy held a tray.
Mia turned away without saying anything.
“Thank you.” Reid quickly went over, took the tray, and closed the door. “Mia, I’m sorry. I arranged for this earlier, but we don’t have to eat it. We can still go down to dinner.”
“No, it would be wrong to waste it.” She sank into the couch across from the window.
“We could go down after we eat.” Reid placed the tray on the coffee table and sat beside her. “Hey, think of it like this—now you don’t need to expend any energy visiting over dinner. You can save it for sitting at the bonfire and listening to the music.”
“And dancing.” Mia grinned. “Let’s hurry.”
Reid removed the silver domes that covered the food, releasing an enticing aroma.
“Curry!” Mia grabbed a fork. “I love curry.”
“I’ve never had it.” He’d missed lunch and was glad for the huge portion of fish and whatever else was soaking in the thick red sauce.
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