by Margaret
Rachel started to walk back toward the restaurant, hoping Zanus would follow. Her plan didn’t work.
“I want to have a word with you,” Zanus was saying to Derek.
She looked back to see him standing in the open ladies’ room door, barring Derek, keeping him—and all the women—penned up in the restroom.
“Should I call nine-one-one?” a woman asked worriedly.
“Hell, no,” said the woman at the sink. “This is just getting interesting.”
Rachel hastened back, put her hand on Zanus’s arm.
“Please, don’t make a scene—”
“I don’t believe he wandered in here by mistake.” Zanus shrugged her off. His face had hardened. His voice was so cold that it made Rachel shiver. “I think this man has an unhealthy interest in you, my dear.”
“And what is your interest in her?” Derek asked coolly.
“Zanus, please!” Rachel pleaded. “Come sit down!”
Zanus did not seem to hear her. He was staring at Derek, as though trying to place him. Suddenly, Zanus’s eyes widened. Then he said softly, “I’ll be damned.”
“I think that boat has already sailed,” Derek said dryly. He raised his hands. “Look, I do not want any trouble—”
Zanus clenched his fist and punched Derek, hard, in the midriff. Rachel gasped in horror and shock. Derek, grimacing in pain, bent double, trying to catch his breath. A woman in the restroom screamed.
Zanus, shaking a bruised hand, took hold of Rachel’s arm and tried to steer her away. “Come back to the table—”
Rachel was frightened by the look on Zanus’s face. If he’d been flushed with rage, she might have understood, but he was icy-calm, tight-lipped, his dark eyes glinting.
“I think we should leave,” Rachel suggested in a low voice.
He glanced, frowning at her, and she realized suddenly that she was being blamed.
“You haven’t finished your dessert,” he said coldly.
“I don’t want any dessert. People are staring. Let’s just pay the bill and get out of here—” She tried to pull away.
Zanus’s grip on her arm tightened, and Rachel gave a little gasp.
“Let go,” she said. “You’re hurting me—”
Derek’s hand, coming from behind, grabbed hold of Zanus’s shoulder, breaking his grip on Rachel. Derek spun Zanus around and slammed his fist into Zanus’s jaw, sending him crashing back into a table. The people sitting there jumped to their feet, the men exclaiming, the women screaming. The table and Zanus went down. Glasses shattered, drinks spilled. Now the place was in an uproar. Someone called out that he was dialing 911 on his cell.
“Stop this, both of you!” Rachel cried, her embarrassment and confusion giving way to anger.
Neither man heard her. Zanus was struggling to his feet. Derek stood over him, fists clenched.
Rachel couldn’t see for her rage. The room was a blur. She had a dismayed impression of thudding feet, voices shouting, “Security! Let us through!”
The woman who had been at the sink was beside her, wanting to know if she was all right. And her friends appeared around her.
“Rachel!” Kim gasped. “What happened?”
Beth was behind her and Lana was there, on the other side of her. They all talked at once.
“We were just coming to find you—”
“We saw that guy talking to you—”
Security finally arrived on the scene. Two big bruisers in suits had hold of Derek and were dragging him back. Another big guy was helping Zanus solicitously to his feet.
“Mr. Zanus! Are you injured? What seems to be the trouble?”
“Sorry about this, Ralph,” said Zanus, coolly straightening his tie and brushing broken glass off his suit pants.
Of course, Rachel thought, they would know him here. It seems everyone in Chicago knows him.
“This man was stalking this woman. Rachel, come here,” Zanus ordered her peremptorily. “Explain what happened.”
Rachel shrank back among her friends and tried to disappear.
“I have to get out of here,” she said through clenched teeth. “If my boss finds out I was in the middle of a bar fight, I’ll be finished. My coat. I left my coat with the coat check…”
“C’mon!” said Lana. “Ladies, circle the wagons!”
They formed a circle with Rachel in the center and started walking hurriedly toward the coat check room, which was near the lobby.
Rachel was trembling with anger by this time. She didn’t know who she was most furious at—Derek or Zanus or both. Right now, all men on the planet could evaporate in a puff of smoke and she’d be happy. Arriving at the counter, supported by her friends, Rachel pointed. “That’s my coat. If you could hand it to me?”
The young man behind the counter had been leaning out of his stall, trying to see.
“What’s going on in there?” he asked, turning to get her coat off the hanger.
“Men being idiots,” Rachel said coldly. She reached for her coat.
The young man held onto it. “Claim check, please.”
Rachel started to open her purse, then she remembered that she’d given the claim check to Zanus! He was always considerate about little things like that, retrieving her coat, paying the tip, helping her on with it. She wasn’t about to go back and meekly ask him for it. Not after the way he was acting.
“Damnation!” she swore. “That’s my coat! I should know it!” She should indeed. Brand new, Dolce and Gabbana, the latest style. She seized her coat, tried to yank it free.
“It’s the liability, lady,” he explained, keeping hold of it.
“Rachel, come here!” Zanus called.
“Wow, he sure is mad,” said Kim softly.
The security guys had Derek by the arms. They were marching him toward the lobby, where the manager was on the phone. Probably with the police.
“That’s her coat,” Lana was saying to the young man, who by now had Dolce and Gabbana in a death grip.
Rachel shoved open the half-door separating her from the coat room. The young man retreated before her. She took hold of her coat and stomped down hard on his foot, digging in her heel as hard as she could. He gave a yelp of pain and grabbed for his foot.
She took her coat, flung it over her shoulders, and struggling to put her arm in the sleeve, she walked toward the lobby.
“Rachel!” Zanus shouted, furious.
“We’ll run interference,” Beth offered.
“Get out of here before the police come,” Lana told her. “I’ll make sure your name stays out of this.” She pulled her press badge out of her purse. “I never leave home without it.”
“Call us as soon as you’re home. Let us know you’re safe,” Kim said.
Rachel nodded and kept walking.
Derek regretted hitting Zanus. The archfiend had realized he faced one of heaven’s own holy warriors and had purposefully provoked him. Derek had reacted out of instinct and frustration—the instinct of a trained warrior and the frustration of trying to reason with an illogical and irrational female.
“Blast the woman! Is she daft? Why doesn’t she just answer my questions?” Derek muttered to himself, as the security guards were hauling him toward the lobby.
His eyes fixed on Rachel, who appeared to be locked in some sort of struggle with the coat check boy. She was pale, her eyes blazed. She cast a glance at Derek as the security guards marched him past, and the look she gave him might as well have been a spear driven into his chest. He almost winced.
Once again, he’d bungled it. He’d embarrassed and humiliated her. He’d played right into Zanus’s hands. Though, if Rachel had just done as he’d asked, she would have spared him a lot of grief.
“Keep moving, bub!” said one of the guards, and gave Derek a shove.
He could have escaped. Big as they were, the guards were obviously not trained warriors. But it would mean another fight and Derek was in enough trouble already. He hoped to be able to tal
k his way out of this.
He glanced over his shoulder, saw Zanus shouting for Rachel, who was ignoring him.
Derek swore, cursing himself. He’d been a fool! He’d meant well, but in trying to extricate Rachel from danger, he may have put her in dire peril. Zanus knew he’d been discovered. And neither Derek nor William still had any idea what was going on.
He had to extricate himself from this situation and report to William—immediately.
“See here, gentlemen,” said Derek, swallowing his pride—a bitter lump that came near choking him. “I am sorry about what happened back there. It was all a mistake. I will apologize to that—I will apologize to the fellow.”
“You can give the desk sergeant your apology after he’s done booking you,” the guard grunted.
“The hotel manager’s on the phone with the cops right now,” added the other guard. “Mr. Zanus is looking to press charges. Assault and battery, disturbing the peace.”
“Stalking,” said the other guard grimly.
Derek’s immersion in modern life provided him vivid images of policemen clapping handcuffs on him and hauling him away in a squad car. Standing before a camera holding a placard with a number. Fingerprints. Body searches. A cell with a bed and a toilet…Rachel alone and unprotected.
Hotel guests drew back away from Derek and stared at him as the guards marched him past the bank of elevators into the small lobby. The manager was just hanging up the phone.
“Cops will be here,” the manager said. “I’m not sure when. Busy night on the streets apparently. Take him into the back room—”
Derek wasn’t about to be taken into a back room or anywhere else for that matter. He hadn’t wanted to do this, but it looked like he would have to fight his way out. He was tensing his muscles, ready to do battle, when loud shouts coming from the front entrance caused the guards to slow their pace and turn to see what was going on.
Derek turned, too. He recognized the person doing the shouting—a middle-aged man with grizzled hair, a six-day growth of beard, wearing a moth-eaten sweater, baggy trousers, a ragged shirt and dirty tennis shoes.
“William!” Derek exclaimed in astonishment.
The archangel’s speech was slurred, his eyes bloodshot, and he swayed on his feet as he poked the bellman in the chest with his finger.
“You obviously have no idea who I am!” he was shouting. “I am Ashley Barrington Mace the Second, and I am a guest at this hotel! I demand that you stand aside, my good man, and let me pass!”
The bellman was manfully barring the entry-way, keeping his head turned to avoid the reek of cheap wine that was so strong Derek could smell it from across the lobby. “I am sorry, sir, but I can’t allow you to come inside in your condition. If you wait while we check your information.”
William lurched into the bellman, grabbing hold of the collar of the uniform to keep from falling, and exhaling gusts of wine-soaked breath.
“Enough of this nonsense. Take me to my room, my good man!” he said imperiously.
The bellman tried to fend him off. “Security!” he yelled.
“Must be a full moon tonight,” one of the guards grumbled. “All the loonies are out. You keep hold of Stalker Pete here. I’ll go—”
“Bah!” said William, shoving himself off the bellman. “I’ll go myself.”
The archangel in his guise as a vagrant dodged nimbly around the bellman and made a dash for the lobby. Running at breakneck speed, William almost did break his neck. He tripped on the upturned corner of the carpet and went flying.
The projectile vagrant plummeted headfirst into the belly of the guard holding Derek. The guard went over backward with a grunt and a loud, “Ooof!”
Both Derek and William leaped on top of him, pinned him to floor.
“Oh, my God!”
Derek looked up to see Rachel standing there, staring outside at red flashing lights—cop cars just arriving.
William struck Derek on the side of the head.
“Run, you fool! Run!” William hissed.
“Archangel William!’ Derek gasped. “I have to tell you—”
“Not now!” William glared at him. The guard was floundering beneath them, and it was taking them both to keep him pinned. “Run! And take Rachel with you!”
“But—”
“You’ve caused the poor girl enough trouble for one night. Get her out of here before the cops come. I’ll keep the guards distracted long enough for you two to get away.”
Derek decided this was sound advice. He scrambled to his feet and made a dash toward Rachel.
One minute Rachel was frozen by the sight of flashing red lights through the lobby windows, and the next Derek was suddenly beside her, gently but firmly propelling her toward the door.
“Just keep walking,” he said to her calmly, “like nothing’s happened.”
Rachel started to pull away from him, but the policemen were climbing out of the car and walking toward the entrance. She was the cause of a bar fight and she’d just stolen a coat! She’d be taken downtown for questioning and her name would appear in the paper. What if her boss found out?
“Slowly,” said Derek. “Don’t run.”
Rachel began to walk toward the door. Derek had his arm around her protectively.
Behind her came the sounds of scuffling, then the vagrant gave a pathetic yelp. “My neck! I’ve broken a vertebrae!” He began to moan. “I’m going to sue this hotel!”
“It’s a shame, the way they treat homeless people!” said an indignant young woman dressed all in black with a bolt through her nose.
“I hope he does sue,” said someone else.
“I’m a lawyer, sir,” a man said, kneeling down beside William. “I saw the whole unfortunate incident. Don’t move. Let me give you my card.”
“This brute won’t let me up!” William howled. “He’s holding me hostage. This is battery! I need an ambulance, stat.”
The policemen barged into the lobby. They cast a glance at Derek and Rachel.
“Keep moving,” Derek said softly into her ear. Aloud he said to the policeman, “I think a man has been badly hurt in there. You might want to send for an ambulance.”
The policemen nodded and hurried past. The first sight that met their eyes was William moaning in pain, stretched out on the lobby floor. People were yelling in confusion. The guard tried to make a lunge for Derek, but the policemen halted him.
“Not so fast…”
Derek and Rachel walked out the hotel entrance. They didn’t stop, but kept walking. Rachel glanced through the window, saw Zanus talking urgently to the policemen. The guard was angrily jabbing his finger at the front door. The police looked uncertain and then Lana was there, in their face, waving her press badge and jabbering.
“I think they’re going to come after us,” Rachel said, panicking. “Get a cab!”
“No time!” said Derek grimly. “We’ll have to run for it.”
They could hear more sirens in the distance. Pulling the lapels of his uniform coat up around his neck, Derek tucked his chin down and started to run down the sidewalk. Rachel dashed after him. People stared at them and scrambled to get out of their way.
“They probably think we’re Bonnie and Clyde and we just robbed the place.” Rachel suddenly felt a mad compulsion to giggle wildly. It was all so ludicrous.
She kept running, but she was falling behind. And then she slipped, turned her ankle, and cried out in pain.
Derek looked over his shoulder, came hurrying back to her.
“Do you want to get caught? Come on!” Derek ordered.
“If you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to run in three-inch heels!” she snapped.
“Take off the stupid shoes. Here, hand them to me.” He reached out to her.
“Are you insane? These are Jimmy Choo’s. They cost me four hundred dollars, and I don’t take them off for anyone.”
She started to try to run, but she could barely walk. Derek slid his arm around her wai
st, supported her as she limped along at his side.
“Are they still after us?” she asked fearfully.
He looked back over his shoulder. “No sign of them. We should still keep going, though, if you can make it.”
“Not a cab in sight,” Rachel muttered.
They kept going. Limping along, hanging onto Derek, Rachel couldn’t believe what she’d just done. She’d run from the police and from Zanus, who was only trying to protect her, and gone off with the guy who was stalking her. Did this make any kind of sense?
She’d have some explaining to do tomorrow to Zanus, but she decided she wouldn’t worry about that right now. She was too wired and keyed-up to think straight. All Rachel knew was that pressing against Derek’s muscular body made her feel safe and warm, his arm around her was comforting.
“Did you really pay four hundred dollars for a pair of shoes?” he asked suddenly. “You can barely walk in them.”
“Yes, but the heels make a damn good weapon,” said Rachel briskly. “How do you think I rescued my coat?”
She looked up into his eyes, blue eyes that were no longer ice blue, but as blue and inviting as the Caribbean ocean on a summer day. He smiled at her and she couldn’t help it. She smiled back.
“I am sorry about what happened,” Derek said. “It was all my fault. It’s just…I seem to lose my head when I am around you.” He eyed her. “You are a very exasperating woman.”
Rachel didn’t know whether she’d been complimented or insulted. She was puzzling it out when her cell phone rang. She knew by the ring tone who it was.
“Are you going to answer it?” Derek asked.
“No,” she replied.
The phone finally shut up, only to ring again two minutes later.
“Stop a minute,” she said.
Derek halted. She reached into her purse, picked up her phone, and shut it off.
“Zanus?” he guessed grimly.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “Hey, there’s a coffee shop. I have an idea. You can buy me a cup of coffee and while I’m drinking it, you can call me a cab. It’s the least you can do after nearly getting me arrested.”
Derek was in a quandary. He was finally alone with her. He wanted to explain everything, tell her the truth or as much of it as a mortal would be likely to understand. He wanted to explain to her why she was in danger, but that was going to be difficult. He could only imagine what she would say if he told her that Zanus was a demon from the fiery depths of hell. She was already half convinced he was crazy. This would finish him off.