“Don’t just stand there. Take my list and find these books for me.”
I was so startled by his absurd caricature of a face that I didn’t see his fat fingers shoving a piece of paper at me. He wiggled the slip of paper through the space and dropped it like he didn’t want to risk the indignity of touching my hand. The paper floated to the floor, landing next to my feet.
“Uh…” I stammered, looking at the armful of books I was holding. “One minute, sir.”
His snout puckered as his ridiculous mustache crinkle into an upside down U. “No, not in one minute. Now.”
He muttered a few more tactless comments as he waited for me to drop my books and serve him. I liked my job, but I reminded myself that I wasn’t financially dependent on it. Taking shit from a troll like Rolph Milford was optional.
“Every time I come into this shop they’ve hired another…” he scanned my face through the shelf, “slow one.”
I was about to get myself fired when the front door chimed, distracting me long enough to calm down. “Are you talking to me?” I asked as I leaned into the opening.
“Who else would I be talking to? Are you stupid?”
“Do you always insult people you don’t know?”
His eyes narrowed, obviously furious at being challenged by a woman—a salesgirl. “You have no idea whom you’re dealing with, young lady.”
The man was a perfect candidate for the Darwin Award, and I was about to take great pleasure in what was coming next, even if it did get me fired. It would be worth the price to avenge every salesperson in New York City who’d had the displeasure of dealing with him.
“Au contraire, sir. You don’t know whom you’re dealing with.”
His eyes bulged, and I thought he might explode from the skin tightening around his swelling face. I stuck my index finger through the hole and narrowed my own eyes. “I know people,” I sneered, “and I can arrange for you to disappear.”
“Well.” He grinned and revealed a set of teeth too big for his mouth. “You just lost your job. I know the owner of this store quite well, and I assure you he will not like what I have to say about his staff.”
“I’m terrified,” I mocked. “I bet it just kills you that a girl is standing up to you.”
I was about to inform him that I didn’t give a rat’s ass if he got me fired, when he turned to his right and his mouth dropped open. Whatever it was shut him up and drained the color from his face.
A tall figure came into the small frame, stopping chest to face with Milford. I could see the curve of a jawbone and a wisp of hair trailing the outer edge. Whoever it was smelled a lot better than Rolph Milford, but it was the voice that gave away his identity.
“You, man. Are you insulting my friend?”
Milford opened his mouth wider, but all that came out was gibberish. The sounds coming from his mouth grew noisier as his pathetic attempt to speak turned to panic. Rolph Milford was tongue-tied—literally. His mouth gaped open, and the stretched slab of flesh was tied into a single knot.
“Awesome,” I said without thinking, cupping my hand to my mouth as I comprehended what was happening to the human being on the next aisle.
I felt sorry for him for about five seconds, but then I thought about how much pleasure he got from bullying people who couldn’t afford to defend themselves, and how this little incident might actually serve as a teaching moment. “You deserve it, asshole,” I muttered.
Constantine lowered his eyes to meet mine through the small space. “Well, am I going to have to squeeze through this hole, or are you going to come around this damn shelf?”
I came around just as Milford was scurrying down the aisle toward the front door. Katie watched him run out of the shop, mouthing some unintelligible garble. She nodded in approval. Ding dong the dick is dead. Bye-bye Rolph Milford. A win-win for the shop. He could spout off all he wanted to the owner, but he’d have a hard time explaining why he left without filing a complaint. Katie could honestly testify that he left without saying a word.
“Let’s get out of here, woman. I haven’t seen you in ages, and I’m in the mood for company.”
“I can’t just leave, Constantine. I have a job.”
“So what,” he huffed. “Seems like you just earned your pay having to deal with that insufferable imbecile.” He inhaled sharply. “Very well. What time does this job end?”
“I get off at five o’clock, but what makes you think I’d go anywhere with you? From what I’ve heard, I should have you arrested.”
Constantine lifted his chin as a thin smile spread across his smart face. “You’ve been talking to someone,” he smirked. “You’ve inquired about me, haven’t you?”
“Don’t be so conceited. Your name came up in conversation. Good thing, or I wouldn’t have known what you really are.”
“And what am I, Alex?”
I ignored the bait because the discussion would lead nowhere. He’d end up getting under my skin, knowing more about me than I liked.
“You really think Greer’s going to just let us go off on a field trip? I can’t believe you even got in here.”
“I’m no fool, Alex. I know exactly how to outplay Greer Sinclair.” He glanced at his Cartier. “Five o’clock. Don’t be late.”
I ignored him as he headed for the door. He turned to Katie on his way out and gave her that look—the one with the fingers that stroked your insides. Something slipped from his mouth before he disappeared into the crowd.
“What did he just say to you?” I asked.
She didn’t answer and kept staring at the spot where he’d been standing.
“He’s not there anymore.”
“He might be back,” she said. “I need to start hanging out with your friends.”
If she only knew the price for that. I wouldn’t put it past him to pay Katie a visit very soon. In a way, Constantine’s intrusion into Katie’s brain was a good thing. She spent the rest of the afternoon preoccupied by the distractions he’d put in her head, so the subject of Rolph Milford never came up.
I cleaned up the return pile earlier than usual, knowing Constantine would be waiting outside that door at five o’clock sharp. If I wasn’t out by then, he’d come inside looking for me, and the last thing I needed was Katie getting ideas of me fixing her up with a satyr.
I left the shop five minutes early. Greer’s escorts were for my late nights, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had them watching me on my early days, too. If they were out there, the whole neighborhood would know it as soon as Constantine showed up.
The restaurant next door had a bench outside the entrance. I sat there for twenty minutes before giving up on him. I was fine with being stood up. This wasn’t my idea anyway, and I only agreed to meet him because I knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer. But twenty minutes was more time than he deserved, and all I wanted right now was a hot bath, a meal, and a good book.
I headed north on Columbus. New York sidewalks are rarely deserted, and at quarter after five on a weekday, I had plenty of company. But it was dusk, and a little common sense couldn’t hurt.
I approached a narrow space between two brownstones. I’d passed it every day without a thought. But it felt different today, like I was noticing it for the first time. I decided to apply some of that common sense. The gap was no wider than three feet, but it was big enough for a grown man plus his victim. I picked up the pace, widening the distance between me and the building as I caught the edge of the black space in my peripheral vision. I took another step but stopped in mid stride. Something grabbed me around my waist and pulled me into the dark recess. It took a second to realize what was happening, but once I did, I fought like a good Irish girl. A hand went over my mouth as I tried to scream, and then my feet lifted off the ground as I was carried deeper into the narrow alley.
“Shut. Up.”
He carried me behind a dumpster and set my feet back down on the ground. “I’m going to remove my hand now. Are you going to be a go
od girl and be quiet?”
I gasped for air as his hand slipped from my mouth. Constantine’s black eyes stared back at mine. “Why are you attacking me?”
“I’m not attacking you.” His grip tightened around my waist as he brought his lips closer to my ear. “I’m abducting you. Wouldn’t want Greer’s militia descending on us like flies, would we? Did you think his dogs would let us just walk away?”
“I told you.”
“And I heard you. Now, let’s get out of here.”
Constantine spun me around and pulled me to his chest. “Put your arms around me.”
“Nice try, but I’m not getting intimate with you in an alley.”
“Does that mean you’ll get intimate with me somewhere else?”
“Let go of me.”
“We have approximately ten seconds before Greer’s goons come crashing into this alley,” he advised as his body began to vibrate.
His hand was back on my mouth before I could scream. A shifting sensation started at the base of my spine, reminding me of the night I ended up in a dungeon with Arthur Richmond. My limbs began to tingle. As the sensation intensified, it felt like a million micro particles of glass were exfoliating my skin.
“You won’t forget this, Alex.” He smiled as I stared back at him, terrified that I wouldn’t survive whatever transformation was taking place. “You’ll be fine,” he whispered. “We’re just going for a ride.”
TWENTY-FIVE
I could feel the ground under my feet again as we fused back together. The wind was cold, and muted sounds rushed through my ears like the plunging of water through a tube. I stood still, wrapped around Constantine’s torso as the sounds amplified and formed into something I recognized.
The sight of cars rushing back and forth below my feet made me gasp into the high winds threatening to push me over whatever was holding me up. Just as shocking were the black waves of water crashing under those cars.
“I wouldn’t advise looking down just yet,” he warned. “Center yourself first.”
“What the hell is this?” I squealed. My face shot up to the massive structure stretched in both directions. Strings suspended above us like a giant harp, vanishing in the distance as far as my eyes could see. A shifting sound played through the air and reminded me of what the weathered planks of an old ship might sound like as they adjusted to the open sea.
“That and this,” his eyes pointed to the steel beams radiating out from somewhere below our feet, “is the Brooklyn Bridge.”
“No.”
“Yes,” he replied.
I fell against him as we teetered along the top of the bridge arch. “How the hell did we get here?” I knew how we got there, but I still had a hard time believing it. He was Captain Kirk and I was Spock, and we’d just transported to the top of the Brooklyn Bridge.
“Spectacular, isn’t it? You should see it on the Fourth of July. In fact, I shall bring you back then.”
“You’re not bringing me anywhere. Now get me off of this thing.”
“As you wish.”
I wrapped my arms around him again and prayed the wind wouldn’t pick up and scatter our molecules so far apart, we’d never pull ourselves back together again.
My eyes opened, but Constantine was nowhere in sight. I took a fortifying breath and glanced at my feet, thrilled to see them on the correct legs, and even more thrilled to see a beautiful Aubusson rug under them. In fact, the entire room was filled with beautiful things: gilt-trimmed paneling along every wall, ormolu dripping from the corners and edges of the furniture, a massive crystal chandelier suspended above my head. I was in a room filled with Louis XVI furniture.
“Oh, God.” My eyes sealed shut as I considered the possibility that I might never see the twenty-first century again. Not only had I been transported through space, but also through time. I slowly reopened my eyes and looked around the room for clues that Constantine hadn’t abandoned me. There were none, but I nearly cried when I spotted a mid-century lamp next to a coffee table book by Richard Avedon. The room was a time machine, mixing old and new in a cohesive way only an eclectic genius could do.
“Hello,” I called out, but there was no answer.
What I feared most was that our molecules had gotten separated, and I’d been randomly dumped in some stranger’s apartment. That led to a worse fear: if our molecules were separated, who’s to say they were put back together correctly or if they were all mine? Just because I had two legs and two feet didn’t mean the rest was okay.
My hands reached for my face as I spotted a mirror in the foyer. “Breathe, Alex,” I told myself. “Whatever you see in that mirror can be fixed. Greer can fix anything.”
“In here, Alex.” Constantine’s voice came from another room.
“Thank you.”
I found him in the next room with two armchairs facing each other in front of a set of French doors. A bottle of red wine was opened on a small table between the chairs. We must have been traveling for a while, because it was darker outside, and the sky was lit up like a Christmas tree from the city lights.
“Where are we?” The top balconies of the surrounding buildings were visible through the panes of the door.
“This is one of my favorite retreats.” His eyes glanced around the room and stopped when they reached mine. “Excellent. Not a freckle out of place.”
I had no freckles, but the meaning of his comment was not lost. “So I don’t need a mirror?”
I shouldn’t have been surprised by the grandeur of the apartment. Constantine obviously had good taste—and a lot of money. I wondered if he decorated the place himself or if he paid for that taste.
“Let’s have a nice chat.”
“I have a better idea—I’ll just leave.” Greer was probably going ballistic. I could imagine the hell he was putting his men through, all because Constantine was bored and wanted to have a chat with me. “I’d prefer we not start World War III, although I have a feeling we’re way past that point.”
“A glass of wine, Alex. That’s all I ask.”
I searched for my purse to find my cell phone. “Where’s my bag?”
“Can’t say.” He shrugged. “Probably still on the bridge. Couldn’t be in a safer place.”
I wanted to smack the cocky grin off his face. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did. Now, sit and enjoy a glass of wine with me.”
“Fine.” I turned toward the door to leave. “I’ll walk.”
“Alex,” he sighed, “would you please put aside your own needs for one minute and join me for a glass of wine by this lovely view? I promise I’ll let you walk out that door after that.” He held out a glass and I accepted it, because I knew he could and probably would stop me from leaving until he got what he wanted.
He pushed the door open and motioned me out onto the terrace. “You can see why this is one of my favorite places. The view is breathtaking, don’t you think?” I stepped out, wondering what he was up to. Maybe he was planning to throw me over the rail so he could catch me before I hit the sidewalk, guaranteeing my servitude until I repaid the debt.
“What’s the point of—”
I stopped talking as the skyline to my right drew my eyes away from his, and the words flew right out of my head as I gazed at the spectacle before me. Like a million stars reaching for home, the obelisk of lights cast a blanket of shimmering jewels over the city, and though the reference was created for something quite different, the image before me justified the name.
My legs softened. The beauty of La Dame de Fer was undeniable as it cast its warm glow over the City of Light. Twenty-thousand sparkling lights raced up its sides while a billion more lit up the sky for miles. I was looking at the Eiffel Tower.
One thing was for sure: we weren’t in Las Vegas, and we definitely weren’t in New York.
I sucked the cool spring air into my lungs and almost choked from sheer panic. Constantine hadn’t just abducted me—he’d abduct
ed me to Paris. I was speechless, locked in place by a sight so beautiful it hurt, and at the same time, horrified me.
“You can leave now if you’d like, but it might take a while to get home.”
“What do you want?” I asked.
He lowered his eyes and raised one side of his mouth. “Come.”
It was getting late, and our second bottle of wine was half empty. I was a minute away from rolling up in the soft chair for a nap. Constantine had insisted on sharing a glass of wine before taking me back to New York. One glass led to several, and to my surprise we actually had a civilized conversation.
He asked what happened to me since that day in Central Park. A simple chat turned into an outpouring, and I realized I’d also been starved for a night of drinks and conversation. With Greer, everything was about locking me under a bell jar, eliminating any means of conducting the outside world. If I hadn’t insisted on getting a job, I’d probably still be sequestered in that house. He was just being protective, but that was no way to live.
We drank and talked, and sometimes just drank and stared. Constantine was an interesting character with a surprisingly small appetite for chatter. After a few glasses of wine, I realized how reserved he was with his words. Each one slipped from his lips with purpose. None were casually spoken for the sake of small talk. Like Greer, he was not afraid of the silence in between.
“What are you thinking about, Constantine?” He was looking at me like a question was waiting to burst from his mouth.
“You seem to know a lot about me,” he said. “Who have you been talking to?”
“No one. Leda and I were just talking, and—”
“I knew it.” His eyes lit up as his spine straightened.
“Knew what?”
“The woman is obsessed with me. Tell me. What did she say?” He motioned for me to elaborate. “Come on.”
“Nothing really. I just asked her why you and Greer try to kill each other whenever you’re in a room together.”
The Amulet Thief (The Fitheach Trilogy Book 1) Page 22