by Cynthia Dane
There was no one in this world she trusted more than him. Surely, there were others she could eventually trust, but why would she seek them out? Even when their role-play came to an end because Vincent told her he needed to embrace reality, Nala continued to stare at the ceiling and feel so, so fucking relieved that she no longer held onto the negativity plaguing her form for untold time.
“I love you.” No matter how often she heard it, Nala remained unfazed. She managed a nod when Vincent asked if he could make love to her once more, his body all around her as he filled her with his strength, youth, and virility.
Who knew how much time had passed when she felt his fingers grazing her forehead, detangling her hair and touching her as lightly as his kisses did? Nala didn’t care. She was so gone that she felt like she was drunk on the power it eventually gave her. The power that could change her fucking life.
Eventually, she closed her eyes and dozed off, feeling Vincent’s hands still all over her. She went to sleep feeling like more than his supernatural bride. She was his very real partner. She was his Nightingale, a shadowy agent of change – and, most of all, rebirth.
***
Nala awoke sore, but refreshed. She rolled over in the big hotel bed, opening her eyes to find Vincent sitting half naked on the floor in front of the French doors leading out to a balcony that was too cold to visit tonight.
She gazed at him for a long time, mesmerized by the lines and ripples of his body. He looked like he was meditating, although he did nothing more than sit cross-legged with his hands on his knees. Or maybe he was enjoying the clear night sky. It was hard to tell from Nala’s vantage point.
“How are you doing?” Wow, my voice is hoarse.
Vincent slightly turned his head at the sound of her voice. “I’m better than ever. You? I thought I lost you for a while there.”
Nala inhaled deeply, filling her body with the air it desperately needed, apparently. “Not doing too bad at all. I got what I wanted.”
“Good.” Vincent stood, his softened countenance turning toward Nala. “So did I.”
She pushed herself up, tangled hair falling across her face and twisting on the pillow. “Do we have a new plan? Or am I still going to Indianapolis in a couple of days?”
Vincent came to her, his hand instantly reaching for her cheek. “More than ever I want you to be safe. Tonight was fantastic, but once we leave this hotel tomorrow, we’re back to being on the run. There are people who want us dead. I won’t let them lay a hand on you, so help me.”
“Hm.” Nala didn’t say anything beyond that. She invited Vincent into bed with her, where they made love once more, her body calling to his in ways it honestly did not need to bear any more. Nala ignored the aching muscles and soreness elsewhere. She knew that, come two days, it may be a long time before she made love to her soul mate again. If ever.
Nala didn’t want to start the next phase of their renewed relationship with a lie. Yet she lied when he asked her if she would go to Indianapolis. “Of course I will,” she said. Of course she wouldn’t. Nala and Nightingale were truly one now. Nala wanted to run away to safety and think of only her boyfriend, but Nightingale knew that her battle was not yet over. The mourning bird did not stop singing when justice was so within reach.
Entry #25
Even if I never see Nightingale again, I can safely say that I regret not a single thing.
I love her. I will do everything in my power to protect her. The most damning thing, however, is that I have so much more money now than when Desirée… and yet it doesn’t seem like enough. I feel like I’ll never have enough money or power to protect the ones I love.
But I can do this for her. I can send her where she will be safe. Where I can keep an eye on her, even if she can’t see me.
It won’t be much of a way to live… but it is better than the alternative. I will do it because I love her more than I have any right to love anyone these days.
If that man lays one hand on her…
No, I can’t think about that. I can only think about her. And how much I love her.
This will probably be my final entry. I want to end it here, because whatever happens next? Doesn’t matter. All that matters is right now. This moment.
I’ve never felt so free.
Chapter 17
Nala had never been to King Street Station before, and she never intended to come back again.
“You’re gonna smother me,” she mumbled, while Vincent held onto her as if she really were a bird about to fly away. “I’m serious!”
Finally, he pulled away, his hands resting on her shoulders. Don’t look so glum, bud. Vincent looked like he was about to lose yet another lover. Don’t put that thought in my head. From Vincent’s point of view, his girlfriend was about to go into hiding half a country away. Who knew when he would have the chance to come see her? The fact he was returning to Portland that same day to rendezvous with Lucian and figure out their next plan was probably bad enough for him.
“You got everything you need? You got enough money?”
Nala had to smile. “No way. Five thousand in cash ain’t enough. You better make it ten.”
“Well… that’s a lot to carry in cash…”
“I’m joking.” She kissed his cheek and gave him one last hug. “We should probably pull off this Band-Aid right now. My train leaves in forty-five minutes. You know how security is…”
Nala wasn’t in a hurry to leave Vincent’s side. Quite the contrary. She was a big fan of staying curled up in his arms and never thinking about anything ever again. Too bad she didn’t live in that kind of reality right now. She would be lucky to see Vincent again in…
“Nala.” Vincent’s hands squeezed her shoulders, nearly shaking her where she stood. “I’m gonna put a stop to this madness. I swear. You won’t be gone for long. We’ll find a way to bring this guy down. I swear it.”
She wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed her face against his chest, inhaling his familiar scent. “I know you will. I love you, Vincent.”
“I love you too, Nala. Don’t ever forget that.”
She stepped back, giving him a coy look. “How could I? I doubt you say that often.”
“Hmph.” He smiled. “Still cheeky.”
“It’s how I want you to remember me.”
Vincent kissed her, his strength powering into her as he rocked them both back and forth. Nala almost forgot what she was doing. Why can’t I stay here and be with him? She had no job to go back to. No family. No friends, really. She had come to the Pacific Northwest with one objective only. Falling in love had not been on the docket, and yet here she was.
“I’ve gotta go.” Nala pulled out of his embrace and turned toward the waiting area. “I’ll see you later!”
It was the hardest thing she ever had to do, and when she spared Vincent a glance… that look on his face nearly killed her. It was the look of a man who wanted to believe her, but had enough life experience to tell him that she was probably full of shit. After what happened to Desirée, he probably doesn’t trust a single “see you later.”
Nala would prove him wrong.
She was lucky that her boyfriend couldn’t see her in the waiting area. To be on the safe side, she pulled on a brand new sweatshirt that he wouldn’t readily recognize, tucking her long hair into the hood and hunching down so he would never guess it was her. Why would she do something like this? Because Nala had no intention of getting on the Empire Builder and heading toward Chicago, where she was due, in about two days, to switch to a train to Indianapolis. Instead, she was taking a much shorter train. To Portland.
***
The sun was already threatening to go down by the time she arrived in Portland and switched to the MAX light rail. She was heading out to the burbs, with nothing but some texts from Lucian she had forwarded from Vincent’s phone to guide her.
She had no idea what she would find out in Hillsboro. She had never been out this far west in the metro area
before, and seeing the suburban sprawl almost sent chills down her spine. God, I could never live out here. As she swapped to a bus and then started a long walk down a longer street… she was glad she did not live out in the middle of this nowhere.
The house was small. Smaller than any multi-millionaire couple had the right to live in. Do they really live here? Nala caught sight of a black van rounding the block. She almost ignored it, until it slowed down next to her, the driver hurrying to step on the gas when she noticed him.
Well, this place was weird.
Nala straightened out her hair and clothes before knocking on the door. Then she rang the doorbell. Then she knocked again. When a minute went by, she saw a curtain slightly open and a familiar face peer through. Within the next ten seconds, Maggie answered the door.
“What do you want?”
She was the most no-funny-business Nala had ever seen. Under the weight of that heavy glare, she almost felt like she was about to be crushed.
“I need to talk to you.”
“About what?”
Nala did not miss the black van circling the block again. Nor did she miss Maggie glancing at it.
“About what happened that night at the hotel.”
Maggie finally lowered her guard. “Is Vincent with you?”
“He doesn’t even know I’m here. He thinks I’m on a train to Chicago.”
Maggie opened the door. “Okay. You get ten minutes. You’ll be lucky if I tell you anything.”
Nala had long suspected something about Jay and Maggie. Until she walked in and saw the sparse furniture, a complete lack of photos, and a pair of paranoia-inducing binoculars on the windowsill... yeah, her suspicions were not that crazy.
Nala told Maggie her plan. Every so often the other woman asked her a pertinent question, poking holes in her plan and then buffing them up with her own ideas. There were times when Maggie insisted that Nala was completely crazy, but did not discourage her from her plan.
“You might die.”
“I don’t care, honestly.”
“Wouldn’t Vincent care?”
Nala sighed. “Of course he would, but I can’t think about that. What’s going on here is more important than my own life.”
“If you can pull this off…” Maggie shook her head. “Well, you’ve got serious balls, kid.”
“Bigger balls than Jay?”
Maggie’s eyebrows crawled up her face. “I honestly wouldn’t know.”
“I figured as much.”
“You’re not going dressed like that, though, are you?” Maggie quickly changed subjects by bringing up the jeans and sweatshirt on Nala’s person. “Even I want to laugh.”
“Nope.” Nala swung her backpack around and opened the top zipper, revealing the black dress she wore the night she role-played with Vincent. It’s clean… enough. “Can I change in your bathroom?”
Maggie gestured to the room in question. “Make it quick.”
Oh, Nala did. She had places she needed to be at after sundown.
“Well, don’t you look like the pretty birdie?” Maggie grinned at her when she emerged from the bathroom. Hair down. Dress tight. Boots clanking against the floorboards. All Nala was missing was her fake pair of wings. “Good for you. That’s exactly what he’ll want to see.”
Nala handed the other woman the manila envelope full of printed emails. “Just in case.”
Contrary to what Nala ever expected from someone of Maggie’s disposition, the tall, unbothered woman pulled Nala into an embrace and held her tight. Whoa. Maggie patted her back a few times before finally releasing her, the sweet scent of a floral perfume lingering between them.
“Good luck,” Maggie said. “It’s gonna be a long night for you.”
Nala pulled on her jacket to fend off the Portland chill. “Thanks. And…” she braved saying what was on her mind all this time. “I’m sorry about your son.”
Maggie didn’t say anything, not that Nala gave her anytime to do so. She was out the door and down the street long before the other woman had the chance to react.
Nala shuffled down the sidewalk in her boots, boosting herself up in the hopes that she could feel more empowered before she got on the bus. The one thing not helping, however, was that damned van making another lap around the neighborhood. This time the driver did not dawdle and give Nala the chance to see who it was.
Considering the time, Nala decided to forego the bus and instead hailed the first taxi she saw. I’ll have to get one eventually anyway. When she showed the driver the address she wanted to go to, he looked at her as if she were crazy. “Don’t worry,” she sweetly told the man. “I’ve got an invitation to an event there.”
“You better, ‘cause I don’t feel like getting booted off the property for your mistake. I get in trouble for that, you know.”
“Don’t worry! I’m expected.”
The taxi pulled away from the Portland suburbs. The next stop: the West Hills.
***
There was a small kerfuffle outside the gate to Xavier Crow’s property. The security guard was ready to raise hell to the taxi driver before Nala brought up her “invitation” on her cell phone and showed it to the man. He looked her over, taking in her outfit and the smile on her face. “All right, but he’s not expecting anybody. Don’t be surprised if you have to wait.”
“Oh, of course.”
The taxi was waved through. Nala was not surprised when a security patrol car followed them down the driveway, but the driver sure was.
“What kind of mischief are you into?” The driver waved his hand. “No, wait, I don’t wanna know. I don’t wanna be an accomplice.”
Nala started counting out some of the bills Vincent gave her. “I’ll make sure you’re tipped well for your trouble.”
“Honestly, I better be!”
The taxi pulled up to the main entrance. The driver was not wont to get out, but he didn’t have to – the surly old butler was there to meet Nala, offering to open her door for her.
“He’s expecting you, Miss.”
Nala batted her eyelashes at him. Come on, tell me your blood flows through your veins. Were this a thousand years ago, she would think this guy was a eunuch. Now she thought he was out of touch and too blinded by the shit Xavier Crow made him look at on a constant basis.
“Miss Nightingale!” the butler bellowed in the foyer. Nala stepped in behind him, hearing the doors close and the chill instantly leave her skin. Although still a little cold, she did not resist when a maid offered to take her coat. She wanted to make sure that Xavier saw exactly what he expected when he turned the corner of the stairs.
She only had to wait a few seconds.
Years later, Nala would wonder where she found the courage she had in that moment. Here Crow was, leering at her, the piece of prey who marched willingly into his cage. Nala knew that the moment those doors latched shut, she had signed herself up for God knew what. I know what he’s done to Desirée. He could do the same thing to me. Nevertheless, she had to keep her smile on her face and look as demure as a falling snowflake. I cannot be as fragile, though. That was the worst possible idea.
“Ah, Nightingale…” Xavier Crow began his descent down the stairs, removing his hat in mock formality. “So nice of you to finally swing by. You’ve been expected for a long time. Come, come… there are drinks upstairs.”
Nala wasn’t going to drink a damn thing he wasn’t already. Unfortunately, she still had to follow him upstairs and hope she wasn’t surprise attacked by an assassin under house arrest.
“I’m glad that Vincent finally came around.” Nala wanted to tune him out as she went up the stairs, but the only thing worth focusing on was Crow’s smooth voice. It’s a lie. It’s all a lie. There was no such thing as a Xavier Crow who was genuinely kind and philanthropic. Every action of his had a reason. An ulterior motive. Something dark and sinister. Something that was likely to get Nala killed at any moment, especially if she lost her cool.
Never
before had she been so pressured to be the Nightingale that Xavier expected. As she followed him down a hall and entered a different salon from the last time, Nala remained mindful of her posture and the look on her face. She did not want Xavier to think that she was here for any reason other than to make amends and have the multiple hits called out on her and Vincent to cease.
“It’s an honor to be in your company like this, Master Crow.” Nala sat on a plush couch and accepted a glass of wine. She didn’t take a sip until she saw Xavier sip it first. “When I was invited to see you, I had to admit… what made me so special as to receive such an honor?”
“Ahh…” Xavier sat on the other end of the couch. Nala was relieved that he wasn’t sitting any closer. “As it turns out, you’re a very special lady, Miss Nightingale. Or should I call you Miss Nazarova?”
The corner of Nala’s mouth twitched. “I hate to be so rude, Master Crow, but it’s Nazarov. Nazarova is my mother.”
“Of course, of course.” He crossed his legs and finished half his glass of wine. Yes, yes, get drunk. This will make everything easier. “Did you know that I knew your sister? I knew her very well.”
Nala had to check the anger burning in her body. Don’t you even mention my sister, you piece of shit. The irony? This was the perfect segue into what Nala wanted to bring up first. “She mentioned you a time or two, for sure… before she…” Nala looked away.
“Ah, I’m sorry. Yes, it was a terrible tragedy what happened. So young! So gifted…”
“I hear she was awfully close to a cure for cancer…”
“Hmm, is that so? Well, Tasha was very confident in her research skills, but I’m afraid she was mistaken. She came close to a couple of very promising leads, but the trials didn’t pan out. She was no closer than anyone else on my research team.”
Nala was not expecting this. “I’ve never known my sister to inflate her own ego like that.”