by Nancy Gideon
"Nice to have friends."
She regarded him curiously. “Jealous?"
He made a disparaging noise then faded back as Gabriel approached. But he didn't go too far.
"Well,” Gabriel prompted. “What do you think?"
Honesty overcame her other prejudices. “Great. They look great. The critics are going to eat them up."
"How about you?"
"Excuse me?"
"Would you like to go out for something to eat?"
He had slipped in the request so smoothly, she almost didn't catch herself in time. A date? He was asking her out?
Just for a meal, nothing sinister, nothing dangerous. And just what Zanlos had ordered.
But when she met his stare, all sorts of dangers simmered there.
"I can't. I'm giving Rita a ride home."
"She can come along."
"No, I mean, not tonight. Thanks.” And she scrambled up and away from the table, leaving Marcus to smirk in the face of Gabriel's defeat.
"She's not your type, slick."
Gabriel lifted a doubting brow. “Why would you say that?
"Because if you bother her, the only type you'll be interested in is the type they replace at the hospital when I get through with you."
Gabriel didn't look impressed. “Very subtle."
"I prefer to lay things right out in the open. You mess with any of these ladies, and I mess with you. Get it?"
"Consider it gotten."
"Good."
* * * *
"Why are you so angry?"
Naomi slid a fast glance at her passenger as she angled her little Neon into traffic. “What?"
"Why are you so mad at me?"
"I'm not mad."
"Yeah, right. You hold onto that steering wheel any tighter, and you're going to bend it."
Naomi consciously relaxed her hands, but the tension remained through her shoulders and jaw.
"Is this about Gabriel?"
"Why would it be about him?"
"Because usually when a sane woman does a Jekyll and Hyde there's a man involved."
"Are you involved with him?"
Silence greeted that blunt request.
Blushing fiercely, Naomi stammered, “I mean, are you and he..."
"I know what you mean. And no. Why would you think so?"
Feeling foolish now that her petty envy was out in the open, Naomi blundered ahead. “The way you showed up tonight. A rather sudden change of jobs."
"Some guy at the Excalibur was getting too pushy, and it was either push back or push on. Gabriel found out I had a background in self-defense training, and he asked if I'd be interested in helping him out. He was doing me the favor, bless him. But if you'd rather I look for work someplace else..."
"No. No, that's fine. It'll be fun."
"You're sure?"
Naomi displayed a genuine smile. “I'm sure. And I'm sorry."
"Girl, you've got to see that that boy only has eyes for you."
Instead of being reassured, Naomi's heart leapt with alarm. And her grip on the wheel tightened.
"I mean, you might have to worry if I were into looking for a man at the moment. But the opposite sex is off my list. Permanently.” Rita paused, then laughed at Naomi's wide-eyed stare. “Nomi, you need to get out more. Life holds way too many surprises for you. Start by taking Gabe up on his next offer. He's a good guy. You might surprise yourself and have fun."
"I don't date."
"Why the hell not? You running from some secret marriage or something?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know?” Rita turned halfway in her seat to give Naomi her full attention. “That's an awfully strange thing to say."
"I'm an awfully strange girl.” She took a chance and blurted out her carefully held secret to her only friend. “I don't remember anything of my life before coming here."
After a long, shocked moment, Rita asked, “Car accident or something?"
"I don't think so. Just no memories. My boss, Mr. Zanlos, brought me with him from out East. He said I'd had some kind of breakdown."
"Pardon me, but you don't seem the type to suddenly go crackers."
Naomi smiled wanly and shrugged. “So now you know why I don't want to get to know some man. I don't even know myself.” She glanced at her passenger. “Maybe now you'd like to think about finding someplace else to live."
"Naw. I like strange. And besides, Mel likes your backyard. He thinks it's better than watching Animal Planet."
Feeling ridiculously grateful, Naomi kept her focus on the road. Marcus was right. It was nice to have friends.
But she hadn't been totally honest with Rita, and she wasn't being totally honest with herself. She did have one memory, if not stored in her mind, then imprinted upon her emotions. Her heart remembered Gabriel McGraw.
And if she remembered him, then why wasn't he admitting to a relationship?
She would never know unless she did Zanlos’ bidding and let the undercover policeman get close to her. Close enough to share secrets and tell tales.
* * * *
"He's up to something; I just don't know what yet."
Marchand LaValois paced his Virginia warehouse office as he processed this scant information given by his best operative. “How can you stay close to him? He knows you."
"I've been careful to keep my face hidden. And besides, I have someone else in place."
"Someone you can trust?"
"Yes."
"This man is dangerous. I needn't tell you that."
"I know well what he is."
"And the woman, she's there?"
"Yes. She's his assistant. She got me a job at the hotel. So far, I've been undetected."
"We must know what he's doing. If it's something as ordinary as criminal activity, we don't care. If it's something unnatural as well as illegal, then we must step in and step hard. He escaped us once. He will not be so lucky again. If Zanlos can't be brought to heel, he must be ground under it."
"I understand."
"And Gabriel, you understand that if the woman if a part of it, she must be dealt with, too."
"I'll see to her."
"Gabriel.” The warning was no more than the soft speaking of his name.
"I will do what needs to be done to protect what we are."
And Gabriel opened his eyes, severing the contact before his mentor could delve any farther into the complexities of that vow. In an instant, he went from chill coastal air to the dry scorch of Nevada, from who he was to what he must do. Bring down Zanlos and protect Naomi.
But if he had to pick one...
Dawn was near. He could smell it on the horizon where it climbed the mountains that ringed the desert playground. Time to seek his shelter and leave the turmoiled thoughts for another night.
Hide in plain sight. That lesson had been learned during centuries of warfare. The obvious was always the least suspected. When he'd come to Las Vegas, Rolland offered to see him safely housed, but Gabriel preferred to arrange his own accommodations. Not that he didn't trust Rolland, or at least the Rolland he remembered, but a secret couldn't be betrayed if no one knew it.
He glanced into the night, where a beam of light from the dark pyramid shot into the heavens. He didn't remember the pyramids. He wasn't that old, not as old as she who made him, but he always took comfort among things of ages past. He was one of those antiquities, born of another time, destined to search the years, the decades, the centuries.
But now that that search was over, time was no longer his friend.
Moving with the flow of late night revelers returning to their hotel, he entered the regal Luxor, but unlike those who walked beside him, never really recognizing his presence, his objective wasn't a nice, air conditioned room beneath the slanted glass walls. It was a slab of marble in the entry hall.
The walls of the Pharaoh's tomb were painted to resemble a world that predated his own. Beneath those murals were stone boxes
guarded by statues of majestic lions and mythical beasts meant to hold the sarcophagi of kings. What one would hold until the next sunset was no king, but rather a vampire.
He waited until the dribbling flow of tourists dwindled. One moment, he stood outside the marble encasement and the next, he thinned to become a vapor that could seep beneath its rim into the protective darkness within. There, he closed his eyes, shutting out the questions and the conflicts of what he must do. And summoning the features he'd held to his heart while kings rose and fell, he let go of his consciousness to remember a dream.
A dream of fated romance.
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Chapter Ten
"What's that all about?"
Gabriel followed Rita's nod toward the back of the auditorium to where Marcus was in brisk conversation with a rather pale woman with startling red hair and too much makeup. Fearing the discussion might have something to do with Naomi's absence, Gabriel tuned his preternatural hearing in to catch the last of the words. Relief made him careless.
"It would seem our choreographer decided to quit without notice.” He noted Rita's surprise and added, “Lip reader."
She quirked a brow at his explanation but didn't question it. “Well, no great loss there. The woman was a witch with a capital B."
"But where's that going to leave the show without anyone at the helm?” But he was thinking about Naomi, wondering if this new crisis had taken her away temporarily or, perhaps, permanently. “I need a way to get upstairs to find out what's going on."
"An extra pair of eyes, you mean.” Rita toweled off her forehead and neck with her sweatshirt, then knotted it loosely about the waist of her lipstick-red leotard. “You're just lucky I have other pairs that are distracting, McGraw. It's time for me to do a little reconnaissance.” With that, she hopped off the stage and swaggered up to the man-made mountain by the exit door.
"Hi, Marcus, is it?"
He regarded her unblinkingly. With a sigh, she forged ahead.
"I'm trying to find Naomi Bright. She's my roommate, you know, and I need to talk to her about Mel's plans for the evening. Do you know where I can find her?"
At first, she thought she might as well be talking to one of the support pillars, then his dark eyes narrowed slightly to assess her. “She's probably upstairs with Mr. Zanlos."
"Oh, then I probably can't talk to her. It was really urgent. Could you take a message to her?"
Marcus glanced from his leggy charges to the beseeching gaze of the woman in front of him. He'd noticed her before. She had the nicest shoulder development he'd ever seen this side of Madonna.
"I can't leave."
"Oh.” Her expression fell.
"But I guess there's no reason you can't go up as long as you don't get in anyone's way and come right back down. Vera, the redhead I was just talking to, is the receptionist for the offices. She can help you find her."
It was Vera for the receptionist and Miss Bright for Naomi. Interesting.
Rita squeezed his forearm. She had a good grip. “Thanks."
He glanced at her hand then grunted a response. With a wink at Gabriel, Rita followed him to the private elevator and watched as he turned his key in the panel. The door sighed open.
"Now don't go poking around where you don't belong. You're my responsibility while you're up there."
She saluted in response to that dire warning. “Yes, sir.” And the door slid shut. Then opened moments later upon chaos.
The seams of the reception area bulged with desperate humanity. Workmen with rolled plans. Electricians with belts weighted down by the tools of the trade. A chef trying to make himself understood through dramatic gestures and broken English to a frazzled and incomprehensive secretary. A pair of suits with sleek briefcases impatiently regarding their Rolexes. No one noticed her standing on the fringe of the harried crowd, but everyone turned immediately to the tiny woman in the ill-fitting suit who slipped in quietly, then with her first soft syllables, took control of the room.
"Thank you for your patience everyone. We've had a bit of a crisis to contend with, but Mr. Zanlos is anxious to meet each and every one of you as quickly as possible.” She turned to the head electrician with a calming smile. “Harry, I've put the inspection off another two days. I'm sure that will give you the time you need a take care of the problem. I can't tell you how much we appreciate your crew's willingness to put in the overtime on this.” Then to the architects. “We'll have those revisions down to you on the floor within the hour. Nothing drastic, and I think you'll approve of the changes.” While the appeased workmen headed to the elevator, she addressed the chef in flawless French, soothing his histrionics while the bubble-headed secretary gaped in mid-gum snap. Then she spoke to the businessmen, this time in Italian, gesturing that they follow her. She paused when she noticed Rita and put up her index finger as she shepherded the gentlemen into the inner office. Rita exchanged a look with the wilting secretary.
"She's good."
The brightly dyed head nodded. “Everyone here thinks she walks on water."
"You, too?"
"I think she could if she wanted to."
Naomi returned, still as crisply efficient as the knife-edged pleats in her skirt. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Rita. It's been crazy up here. We open in less than two weeks, and everyone has last minute jitters."
"You seem to be just what the doctor ordered."
Naomi allowed a self-effacing smile. “I'm great at handling every crisis except my own.” Then she took a breath, and her shoulders slumped. Suddenly she appeared frail and weary. “Thank goodness we've managed all of them except one for the night."
"Kitty Parsons?"
Naomi sighed. “Can you believe that woman? Just up and walked out when we've got so much to do to get the show ready. I don't know where we're going to come up with a choreographer on such short notice who can just step in and carry on. I'm fresh out of miracles on that one."
"You look like you're all out of everything.” And it was the truth. The willowy girl was swaying like a reed in a harsh breeze. “Call it a night and trust a miracle to happen in your absence."
Naomi placed a pale, slender hand on her forearm for a squeeze. “I can't abandon ship, Rita. Someone has to—"
"What? Go down with it? Why does it have to be you?"
"That's my job."
And she turned expectantly as one of the huge office doors opened.
"Miss Bright, I don't wish to be disturbed.” Shrewd obsidian eyes fixed upon Rita and held. “Oh, forgive me. I did not realize you had a guest."
Before Naomi could stammer an excuse, Rita thrust her hand out. “Not a guest, her roommate. Rita Davies. I'm working with the show downstairs."
"I'm surprised we haven't met before. Not much escapes me, especially not someone so noteworthy."
His fingertips were cool and smooth as he lightly curled hers into his palm. His accent, soft and sensually seasoned with the warmth of South Africa, compelled attention just as his direct gaze mesmerized. Hawkishly handsome and slick as sin. Rita distrusted him on sight.
"Since you're going to be in a meeting, do you mind if I steal Naomi away for a while?"
"As long as you return her. Miss Bright is my most valuable asset."
"But I still haven't taken care of the Parsons matter."
Kaz Zanlos brushed away her protest with a flick of his hand. His nails were square cut and as white as if they'd been polished. “There's nothing more you can do tonight. I'm sure you have other business to attend. Or should I say pleasure."
His stare captured Naomi's for a long moment, until she gave a faint nod. Watching, Rita got the uncomfortable feeling that with that silent exchange came an incredible amount of exerted pressure. She'd seen that kind of control leveled in abuse situations. Seeing Naomi's meek acquiescence, she wondered about the relationship between employer and employee. And she didn't like the way his intimidation caved in the confident woman Naomi had been only mo
ments before. That animation drained away until not a trickle of independent will remained. Whatever he was forcing upon her, Naomi accepted his dominance with enough uneasiness to make Rita despise him for his silky bullying.
"Very good, Miss Bright,” he pronounced once he was sure she would follow his unspoken edicts. Then he smiled at Rita, all liquid charm. “It was a distinct pleasure meeting you, Ms. Davies. Remember your promise to return her."
Was there a slight implied warning there?
After he disappeared to resume his meeting, Rita shook her head. “Whatever he's paying you, it's not enough."
"Mr. Zanlos has been very good to me.” The tight, almost defensive tone made Rita blink in surprise. Then the tension eased to genuine gratitude. “After all he's done, I could never take advantage of his kindness."
"People can only take advantage if you allow them to,” Rita observed as they walked toward the elevator. Naomi gave a cursory wave to the fast fading secretary then looked up at her roommate with a sudden shrewd understanding.
"And that's what I do. I let them."
"I didn't say it was a bad thing."
"No, not like world hunger or venereal disease."
Rita laughed at Naomi's tang of sarcasm as they stepped into the elevator. After glancing about, Rita remarked, “Strange. Most elevators have a least one mirrored wall. You'd think with all the vanity running rampant in Las Vegas that they'd be everywhere."
Naomi wasn't thinking about mirrors. She was thinking about what Rita had said. Was everyone taking advantage of her? Did she foster that needy behavior by enabling their dependence? She thought of herself as efficient and capable. Was she instead a willing doormat? Or a passively aggressive control freak?
Like Rita said, she had to get out more.
And she had to start tonight. Kaz Zanlos’ subtle prompt wasn't to be ignored. Tonight with Gabriel McGraw.
When she saw him on the stage leading the dancers through a complicated set of fighting techniques, the swell of sensations came close to drowning her. Need, longing, hurt, distrust. So many things for a man and a relationship she couldn't remember.
From a safe distance—if any distance from which she could observe him could be considered safe—she enjoyed watching him. Strength, power, and lethal beauty—things he exuded, things he was passing on to the women he taught so that when they moved together it was graceful, controlled poetry. Though he seemed relaxed and focusing on the movements, she knew he was instantly aware of her, just as she'd been able to feel his presence on the streets. It had been him. She knew that now. But why? Why was he following her? Why were they so attuned to one another? What had they been to one another for the connection to remain so strong? She had to know. Gabriel was one of the pieces to her past. If she could find where he fit in, perhaps other sections would begin to fall into place.