by Amy Vansant
Where did the feather come from?
It didn’t matter. She got the point.
Maddie unlocked the chain and opened the door. She stood to the side like a rabbit, frozen in place, hoping the fox wouldn’t notice her as he entered.
He smiled politely and entered. The house was neat, if sparsely decorated. He spotted a gray sofa and sat on it.
“Sit,” he said, patting the cushion beside him.
She swallowed and took a seat in a matching stuffed chair nearby.
“If I sat that close to you I’d have to turn sideways and...we’d just be too close to focus.”
He shrugged. “Fair enough.”
“What do you want?”
“Very little. You saw the feather.”
“What?”
Rune sniffed. “Nothing. I need you to get me into Parasol Pictures. You work there, correct?”
She nodded.
“You can hide me in the trunk of your vehicle and we can—”
“I can’t enter the lot.”
“Hm?”
“I park in the outer lot and then walk through security.”
Rune’s lips pinched. “Could you request a pass?”
“No. Only the really high-ups get to park inside.”
“Even after I took care of your rival? You’re not powerful enough?”
Maddie scowled. “No. It didn’t really change my standing at all. I just don’t have to share the limelight.”
“Hm. Maybe you could pretend I was your father?”
Maddie’s lip curled. “But you’re not. You don’t look anything like him or me.”
“Ah, but they don’t know that.”
“They’ll ask to see your I.D. Do you have I.D. with my Dad’s name on it?”
Rune felt his mood darken. Perhaps Maddie wasn’t as useful as he thought she would be. She certainly wasn’t very bright.
“Who are you?” she asked, fidgeting in the silence between them.
His attention snapped to her. “I don’t kill you for five minutes and you think you can ask me that?”
She stood. “I’m sorry—”
“I’m kidding. Sit down.”
She raised her hand to her mouth to cover a nervous giggle.
Rune smiled. Now I’m funny too. Not only clever, but funny.
Maddie sat. “I—”
“Shh. I’m thinking.” Rune put his hands on either side of his head and rested his elbows on his knees. There had to be something she could do. He needed to walk onto the lot, unmolested, free to do what he needed to do.
Maybe she could help him find the people he needed to kill outside the lot?
“Do you know about a large Moor working there?”
“A Moor?”
“A Moor. A man of dark complexion.”
“A black man?”
“Yes. Though very dark brown would be a more accurate representation.”
Maddie frowned. “Could you narrow it down? I mean, there are a lot of black men at Parasol.”
“He works with Ryft and his dreadful son.”
“Ryft?”
Rune huffed. “I’m sorry, I’m making a mess of this. My thoughts are sometimes here and sometimes long ago. Sean. He goes by Sean in this time.”
Maddie’s lips pressed tight, her features scrunching into a ball in the center of her face. “Sean who? Do you have a last name?”
“He’s the guard of the studio. Very good with a sword, both broad and rapier, judging by his style. He works with a large Moor and drives a green car, smaller than most—”
“Oh Sean. You mean Sean and Luther. They run Parasol’s security.”
“Yes! Is Luther his son’s name?”
“Luther is the black man. Big.”
“Right. That’s the one. So you know who I mean.”
“I do now, yes.”
“Do you know where Luther lives?”
“No.” Maddie glanced behind her. “But I could probably find out. I could Google him.”
Rune stared at her, unsure if Google was a good thing. “Would that alert him to our quest to find him?”
“Googling? No. He wouldn’t know.”
“Okay. Do that.”
Maddie stood and went to a small black box sitting on her dining room table. She lifted the lid and it glowed as she tapped on the bottom half of it.
Computer. Laptop.
The words bounced though his brain and he nodded, happy to see them.
With her right hand she moved something around the top of the table and he saw the lit portion of the computer jumping to display different images and text. Finally, she grabbed a writing utensil and wrote something on the back of an envelope.
“Here,” she handed him the envelope. “This is where he lives.”
Rune read the address. “Can that computer tell you where everyone lives?”
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“I need information. First and last name at least, some idea of where they live. And even then, not everyone.”
“Excellent.” Rune stood. “I’m going to take care of something. Sean will be next if you can find where he lives for me while I’m gone?”
Maddie frowned. “So now I’m your secretary?”
Rune shrugged. “If you like.”
“I don’t like—”
He glared and her agitated tone softened. “Sure. I’ll find out where Sean lives. Do I get another favor then?”
Rune blinked. “Maybe. What do you want?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Well, you think on that. I’ll be back.”
As he reached for the door Maddie called out.
“Are you going to kill Luther?”
He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Yes. Does that bother you?”
Maddie shrugged. “No. It doesn’t do anything for me either way. I don’t really know him.”
“Everything in your head is about you.” Rune grinned. “I approve.”
Chapter Eleven
Broch took half a step toward the gunmen and felt Catriona touch his arm.
“Don’t,” she murmured.
“We’re going to spend a little time together tonight,” shouted the larger of the two armed men over the din of the confused crowd.
Broch put out a hand to touch Catriona’s hip. “Fall back in tae the crowd.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
She scowled and he knew immediately he’d said the wrong thing.
Everythin’ is a negotiation with this wifie o’ mine.
“Ah dinnae want ye getting hurt.”
Catriona’s voice lowered to a hiss. “I was doing this job before you were even in this century.”
Broch couldn’t help but smirk. He loved Cat’s fire, though her presence did complicate how he was going to stop the armed men at the door.
“Hey,” one of the men snapped, waving a gun at them. “You two, shut up.”
“Oh you,” Catriona waved a dismissive hand at the intruder. “I don’t need to hear it from you, too.”
The man’s face twitched, his shock at her reaction to his threats rendering him dumb.
His partner’s attention shot to Catriona. “Lady, he’s serious—”
Catriona kicked off her heels. “If you think I’m going to stand here and let another man boss me around—”
“Hey! Are you hearing us?” The first man took a step toward them.
“She’s drunk,” said the second.
Catriona seemed to ignore them and instead tugged on Broch’s sleeve like a crazy person.
“Are you even listening to me?” she asked, her tone somewhere between anger and tears.
She winked with the eye the uniformed men couldn’t see from their vantage.
Och.
Broch smirked.
Clever girl. Ah ken whit yer up tae.
He raised a hand and glowered at her. “Wifie, shut yer mouth afore ye feel the back o’ mah haun.”
> Catriona turned her head as he watched her squelch a laugh. The line he’d used he’d heard watching Braveheart. Catriona thought the film would make him feel at home and he’d watched it six times.
He felt his cheeks grow hot at the memory. It still made him uncomfortable she’d caught him crying over the murder of William Wallace’s wife.
Bit t’was sae sad—
Catriona tugged on his shirt and brought him back to the present.
“Oh, big man. Does it make you feel tough hitting women?” She swung at him, punching his chest with the side of her fist.
Ouch.
He grabbed her by both arms and roared. “Ye shrew!”
“Hey!” The smaller armed man stepped toward them and, without taking his gaze from Catriona, Broch grabbed the end of the man’s rifle and jerked it from his hands. Abruptly changing direction, he swung the butt of the weapon, splintering it against the side of the man’s head. It broke in to long thin strips and he held the flimsy piece remaining in his hand, fascinated.
That’s odd.
Catriona hiked up her dress and jerked her gun from the homemade lace holster on her thigh.
Broch’s tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth.
That micht be the sexiest thing ah’ve ever seen.
Catriona trained her weapon on the remaining gunman. The man dropped his rifle to the floor, threw up his hands and yelled out.
“Konrad!”
The sound of the weapon sounded hollow as it struck the floor. Broch looked at the hunk of rifle remaining in his hand and realized it was made of a material Catriona had introduced him to soon after his arrival.
Plastic.
“Whoa, wait, whoa, whoa.” Konrad pushed his way through the crowd toward Catriona.
“Cat, stop, put down the gun.”
Catriona scowled at the hunk of broken plastic in Broch’s hand and lowered her own gun. She turned to Konrad as he appeared beside her.
“This was a stunt,” she said matter-of-factly, but he could see her anger simmering behind the deceptive serenity of her words.
“I didn’t sign up for this,” said the standing uniformed man, staring at his fallen friend.
Konrad panted, out of breath. “Yes, it was a stunt. They’re actors.” He turned and held his hands over his head. “They’re actors, everyone. False alarm. A little theatre gone wrong. Nothing to worry about. I had a little adventure planned for you, but it appears I forgot to tell the studio’s security team.”
A ripple of nervous laughter ran through the crowd and the piped-in music returned. The crowd murmured and returned to their cocktails.
Catriona rubbed her temples. “Forget the security team. Now it’s going to involve the studio’s legal team.”
Konrad looked at the man on the ground. “Did you kill him?”
Broch leaned down and slapped the unconscious actor’s face. The man groaned.
“Na.” Broch grabbed the man’s hand and hoisted him to his feet.
Catriona studied the cut on the side of the man’s forehead. “You’re okay. It isn’t bad.”
The man put his hand over the wound, scowling at Konrad. “You didn’t pay us enough for this shit.”
Konrad grimaced. “I’ll make it up to you.”
A woman screamed from the back of the room. “There’s a man on the floor in there!”
Konrad glanced in that direction and then caught Catriona’s eye. “There’s a third guy coming from there.”
Catriona sighed and tugged Konrad’s sleeve. “With me.”
Broch, Catriona and Konrad made their way through the crowd until they reached the panicked woman on the opposite side of the room. She stood outside a door painted to look like part of the wall. The fact that it had been cracked open ruined its camouflage.
“It’s okay, it’s all fake,” said Catriona to the woman. She tapped Konrad’s arm. “Tell her.”
The woman continued. “But I really think he’s dead. I peeked in there after the man took the girls—”
Catriona spun to face Konrad. “Took the girls?”
Konrad offered a lopsided grin. “He was supposed to take Jessica and a random.”
“Jessica?”
“Jessica Scout. The actress who plays the second victim.”
“So she’s in on this stunt?”
He nodded.
Broch opened the false door. A man dressed in black assault garb lay on the ground of a thin hallway.
He squatted down and felt the man’s neck with his fingers.
Nothing. He pressed harder, thinking he must be wrong, but found no sign of life.
“He’s dead.” His fingers moved to a hole in the chest of the man’s padded jacket. The area around it was damp. “Stabbed ah’d say.”
Standing, he felt something sticky on the fingertips he’d used to balance beside the man. He glanced at them to find them red. Squatting again, he located a small pool of blood beside the man. The man’s hand rested in it like an island.
He lifted the man’s wrist to show Catriona the pinky had been snipped clean away.
Catriona gaped and turned to Konrad. “Is this part of your stunt?”
Konrad shook his head, his eyes wide. “No. I swear. This isn’t me.”
Mason appeared and pushed past the others to peer inside the door. Broch watched the blood drain from the boy’s face as he spotted the actor’s mangled hand.
“Close the door,” said Catriona.
Chapter Twelve
Rune walked to the curb outside Maddie’s house and put his hands on his hips. He had a plan. He just wasn’t sure how he was going to accomplish it or how he was going to get to the place where he hoped to accomplish it.
He didn’t feel confident about his new powers. They seemed to work when he wanted them to work, but it all felt a little like getting a new electronic and finding the user manual is missing.
What if I try to use them against this Luther character and they don’t work? What powers might he have?
He remembered Luther now. The big man had been there when Sean took his arm. He’d been easily dispatched, but there’d been something about him.
Luther was one of them. Rune was sure of it now. A good place to start.
He’d already cased Luther’s house. He knew where he lived. He’d walked by him once or twice, and both times Luther had turned to look in his direction, as if he could sense him.
What if he knows, even now that I’m on my way? What if he isn’t the weak link?
Rune didn’t like direct confrontation, but he had to get rid of the people radiating that energy. It was as if they were magnets with opposite polarization and having them in town pushed him out.
He didn’t want to go. He’d already worked out Hollywood was the perfect place to settle down, if he could just find a way to influence the messages being broadcast to people all over the world…
The thought made him giddy.
But first, Luther.
Headlights headed in his direction and Rune squinted at them. The car began to slow, rolling to a stop in front of him. The window lowered and a man hung his arm out.
“Hey.”
Rune cocked an eyebrow.
What’s this?
He took a step forward, feeling drawn to the man. The driver had tan skin and straight brown hair, cut as if someone had placed a bowl on his head. It was clipped around the edges, and the sides above his ears were shaved.
Even with his limited knowledge of fashions, Rune couldn’t help but think the cut was ugly to the point of being grotesque. At the very least, it was not in fashion.
“We passed the other day.”
“Passed?”
“On the street. We passed each other.”
“And now you think that means I want to talk to you?’
“Oh you want to talk to me alright. I can help.”
“Help with what?”
“I know what you are. It’s what I am too.”
Rune chuckl
ed. “I doubt it.”
“You used to care about the people around you. You made them better and they didn’t appreciate it.”
Rune’s eyes widened. “Yes?”
“And then you were released. You stopped caring. You started giving them what they wanted instead of what they needed. It was crazy for a while during the transition, but now you’re feeling better. Stronger.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m the reason you’re here.”
“Here, where?”
“In L.A. I think you were drawn to me the way I found you.”
“I came here for my daughter.”
“Fiona.”
Rune tucked back his chin, surprised to hear his daughter’s name fall from the lips of a stranger.
“Look, you need help. I need help. We both want the same thing and we can work together. I know weapons.”
“Really?” For the first time Rune noticed how large the arm hanging from the car was. The driver wasn’t a tall man, but he was powerfully built. The very opposite of him.
Maybe he could be helpful.
“Do you know Luther?”
The man grunted. “You want to take him out first? That’s a good idea, man. The right thing to do. The others will be easier.”
“There’s Catriona,” said Rune. The name sounded funny on his tongue.
“Whatever, dude. Let’s do this. Get in.”
Rune eyed the car. The style was one he’d heard referred to as a muscle car. He walked around the back of it, thinking it would be harder for his new friend to run him over backwards.
Always thinking.
When he reached the other side he pulled at the handle but it didn’t budge.
“I’ve got the doors welded shut. You gotta crawl in through the window.”
Rune frowned. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“So they don’t fly open.”
“Isn’t that what the latch is for?”
“I do some crazy drivin’ sometimes.”
Rune sighed and lifted one skinny leg as high as he could, swinging it up and dropping his heel on the edge of the window. Grabbing the roof with both hands he slid himself forward, clinging there as he carefully raised the second leg and slipped it inside. After a few wobbles and a fair amount of grunting, he found himself sitting in the car next to the driver.