* * *
Mathias
I gulped down a pill and dropped the empty bottle in the trash. The man in the mirror gazed back with a haunted expression. Yes, I was haunted. Lauren’s words still chased me even though I had slipped away from the conversation hours ago. Pacing the tiny length of my room provided no relief. I braced my hands against the washroom wall, waiting for some relief but it was barely detectable. All I felt was the cold rage filling me, flooding each vein, and chilling my perception of the world.
Every threat. Every injustice. All of it was detected and assessed with cold precision that permitted no room for weakness, for mercy. It had been difficult to return to the safe house without acting on those injustices, correcting them.
The only reason I succeeded in resisting the desire to establish the cold unyielding justice was the same as what had drawn me to return to the safe house. It was all because of the only one who still mattered beyond the ice. The one who pulled me back. Lauren.
I swiped my sleeve across my brow, but I wasn’t sweating. Taking a deep breath, I resisted the pull that urged me to seek Lauren out. To tell her what the vow of protection meant, of what it demanded . . . But that I couldn’t do. Not to Lauren. Following through on the urge, on the draw to Lauren, would be the height of stupidity and utter lunacy. I wouldn’t permit it.
There was only one option left to me with that decision, however. I left the washroom as I considered it. I had one chance to bring this coldness to heel and regain my now suffering control. Only one chance to bury the rage once more before it brought down the same fate that had befallen too many of my kind. I must put as much distance between Lauren and myself as I could, and do so as soon as possible.
I only killed two of the four hunters I found lurking in Old Town. The other two I incapacitated after fighting back against the cold to avoid falling into an icy rampage. It would be risky to go hunting again, and I would have to leave Old Town untouched. Otherwise, I might as well paint a giant sign pointing out that the fugitive Spotter Weard was so desperate to capture was hiding somewhere in Old Town. But if I sent a direct message to Weard by dropping more hunters down on the beach or near the docks, perhaps I would be able to lure them away from Lauren before I went underground once more. If I could get across the Channel and perhaps hunt down a few more hunters in Belgium or the Netherlands, it would further distract Weard’s efforts to locate Lauren. They might not plan—
I blinked as I realized I was standing in the front room and not in my tiny bedroom. All thoughts of parting ways with Lauren faded when my gaze fell on her. She was curled up on the couch, apparently waiting for me.
I glanced at my watch. It was five in the morning. I hesitated only a moment before I carefully lifted Lauren into my arms being mindful of her cast. Carrying her back into her bedroom, I set her down on the bed and then started covering her with the blankets. As I laid the last blanket on top of her, I realized the greatest flaw in the plan I had considered.
Leaving to protect myself and save myself from this coldness would require me to abandon an injured and inexperienced Spotter to the nonexistent mercies of Weard’s new management. And, the hunters had already indicated her life might be considered forfeit now. I smoothed the blanket over her shoulder and then straightened, but I didn’t leave right away. As I watched her sleeping face, I realized I would rather fall to the cold than abandon her. It would go against my morals and my honor.
No, I could not put my own comfort above Lauren’s life. I would have to make a different plan. A better plan.
When I finally left the safe house, it was not to hunt down more hunters. Or to send a message to Weard. It was to find another way. I had an idea on how to do it, but I would need to set all of it up before returning to Lauren if it was going to be a success. And, it had to succeed. Too much was at stake for the plan to fail.
* * *
Chapter Five
Lauren
When I woke, my watch said it was still about a half hour before six. I wasn’t completely certain if that was six in the morning or six in the evening. I hobbled to the washroom to try and work out the crick in my neck. It took a full ten minutes, filled with covering up the cast to keep it dry and the shower running, for me to wake up enough to realize that I hadn’t been in the front room. Mathias must have moved me at some point, which gave me a little hope that he was back to being himself.
But when I emerged from the washroom, there was no answer when I called for him. I knocked on the door to his room and then dared to push it open. The narrow room was empty save for the neatly made bed. Actually, it looked like it hadn’t been slept in at all. Worry started eating at me as I made my way into the front room. The lanterns balanced on the table and a pantry shelf cast a ring of light through the room. Empty. Not even a note left on the table.
I couldn’t remember if I had seen Mathias’ go bag. The thought scared me more than I wanted to admit and sent me scrambling back to his room. I shoved open the door and hobbled inside. The bed was made up and when I crouched down, I didn’t see the large duffle bag. It was larger than my own, and I should have been able to find it. But, it wasn’t in his room. I hobbled back into the front room hoping against hope that it would be there. Nothing.
I dropped down onto the lumpy couch, feeling as though someone had slapped me across the face. Mathias was gone along with his go bag. A chill ran down my spine at the thought of Mathias leaving, abandoning me. Maybe I should have expected it. Everyone else in my life abandoned me, left me behind when I needed them. Why should I have expected Mathias to be any different?
Closing my eyes against a fresh wave of hurt, I reached up out of habit to touch the sapphire teardrop hanging from a fine silver chain around my neck. The only thing remaining of my parents, my mother, from the time they abandoned me as a small child. The feel of the stone beneath my sweater grounded me. I took a shaky breath and then opened my eyes. I had been too complacent, wanting to believe that Mathias was different from everyone else I encountered in my life. And, that was what got me into trouble in the first place. By not running the first time he appeared with a golden 10 floating above his head, and then trusting him.
Foolish. Reckless. And so very, very, stupid. Now, he was gone without so much as a goodbye or an explanation. The only saving grace in this mess was that we hadn’t been intimate even though we had traveled as husband and wife since fleeing Olympia. I was too attached to him as it was without adding the binding ties of intimacy.
The little voice in my head grew louder urging me to get ready to leave even though it would be difficult to get out of the safe house and up to the close without putting any weight on my cast. Still I forced myself to get off the couch. I was done waiting for Mathias. I had trusted him, and he just abandoned me. The only thing left to do was to make my own way out of this place. It wouldn’t be easy, but I was determined. I made my way to my room, hobbling and hopping around the narrow space as I got my go bag back into order. I had already changed into another long skirt and a black wool sweater, so there was no need to do so again. My hair, I braided and pinned into a knot on the back of my head. Then, I pulled a dark green shawl out of the duffle bag. I would use it to cover my hair when I left to help hide my identity. One thing I had learned over the years was that it sometimes took only a very small change to persuade people they had mistaken you for someone else.
I had just finished packing and hobbling my way into the front room to put the go bag on the table when the door swung open, startling me into a yelp. I dropped the bag on the table and groped for something to defend myself with as a large shadow filled the doorway. My hand landed on a lantern and I raised it warily. Then, the shadow in the doorway moved into the room while tugging down a thick woolen scarf. Mathias’ gaze landed on the lantern I held poised to throw and he murmured, “We don’t have time to deal with a fire, Lauren.”
I set the lantern down and dropped into the chair, feeling my cheeks flush, even as I stared
at Mathias. I wanted to say so many things to him. Ask him why he had left. Why he had come back. But none of those words made it past my tight throat. I took a calming breath and then quietly asked, “More hunting?”
“No. Making arrangements.”
Shock at the denial gave away first to relief and then to suspicion as the rest of his answer registered. I eyed him closely, not even sure if I wanted to ask before deciding it was better to know than to go along in the dark. “For what?”
“We have to leave,” came the simple statement. It was also completely lacking in explanation.
I frowned at him as he walked over to the table. He didn’t look even the tiniest bit surprised when he noticed my go bag was already resting on it. Instead, he gave a curt nod . . . almost as though he approved. My frown deepened. “If you’re going to drop me off at the airport, I would at least like to get some crutches first.”
Mathias gave me an indecipherable look, then he rounded the table and held out his hand to me. “We need to get to the clinic. The doctor was reluctant to wait too long past close of day.”
For a moment I considered refusing to go along with him. Whatever he had in mind probably wouldn’t make any sense, and Mathias no longer seemed to be in the mood for sharing information. Then, my practical survival instincts reasserted themselves. If we were going to the clinic first, I would be able to insist on crutches. Not to mention preparing myself mentally for breaking from Mathias’ company. Ignoring his outstretched hand, I carefully arranged my shawl over my hair making sure it was loose enough to obscure my profile from the side and then stood on my own. Mathias’ hand dropped back to his side as I shrugged into my wool coat and tugged on gloves.
Mathias didn’t hesitate over my little snub. As soon as I was ready, he shouldered my go bag and picked me up. As narrow and steep as the stairs leading out of the safe house were, I didn’t try to protest being carried. Instead, I worked hard to ignore the sensation of feeling safe and protected being carried gave me. It was all an illusion.
The only surprise for me was the fact that Mathias had a car waiting for us that wasn’t a taxi. I hadn’t expected him to try to rent another car. He had seemed content with buses and taxis since the crash. In no time at all, we were back at the clinic with the doctor having a rather pinched look on his face as he examined my cast.
He looked from Mathias to me and said gravely, “Mrs. Jones, I don’t think it is wise to remove the cast. It has only been five days.”
“We won’t be able to reach another doctor to have the plaster removed in four weeks,” Mathias interjected. His words were cool and calm, but at least they weren’t as terrifyingly cold as they had been yesterday. But they were still unyielding in their demand as he added, “We need a different option. One that will not require a saw to remove.”
When the doctor looked at me, I could read the unspoken question in his eyes. If I refused to go with Mathias now, the doctor would help me. For not even half a heartbeat, I was well and truly tempted to accept the silent offer. But . . . Leaving Mathias in the lurch seemed . . . unwise. Not so much for my sake as for his. I didn’t trust what he would do without my being around. I hesitated a moment longer before offering a little nod. “We can’t stay in Edinburgh much longer, and I don’t know where we’ll be in four weeks. If there is another option, it would make things much easier.”
The doctor’s lips thinned and I knew he wasn’t happy, but he finally jerked his head down in a curt nod. “Very well.” He stood up and informed us he was going to get the necessary supplies, disappearing out the door before I could offer a reply.
Silence reigned in the room as we waited for the doctor to return. I folded my hands in my lap and avoided Mathias’ gaze. Not that he seemed in a very talkative mood. As I considered the doctor’s attempt to offer aid, I realized something else. I hadn’t seen his nurse, Eileen, in the clinic even once since we came. I hoped we hadn’t run her off. When the doctor returned to the room, I couldn’t help myself. “What happened to your nurse? Is she all right?”
The doctor paused. He stared at me for a long moment then he said tightly, “I sent Eileen home when your husband showed up again this afternoon. She will no longer be involved in this matter.”
I kept quiet as he busied himself with the rest of the preparations. Mathias edged closer to the door of the room as the cast was being cut off, probably so he could hear if there were any intruders. The doctor then wrapped my ankle tightly and fitted a brace over my foot that placed firm pressure against my Achilles tendon and came up to the lower half of my calf. He fixed me with a stern look as he stated briskly, “Do not remove the brace if you can at all help it. And, do not put any weight on that foot for at least another four weeks. I will give you crutches. After four to six weeks, the tear should be mended enough to allow for some use. I would recommend a walking boot at that point for another few weeks to ensure you don’t cause it to tear again. A second surgery could lead to complications.”
“I understand,” I managed to get out between my clenched teeth. Waves of pain radiated from my ankle, but I refused to give into them. I blew out my breath slowly through my nose, trying to regain my composure, before I offered a faint smile and added, “Thank you for your help.”
The doctor made a noise of disagreement and then retorted crossly, “I’m a physician and my oath demands it of me.”
At least, he gave me the crutches and stuck around long enough to ensure I could use them without falling before ushering us out of the clinic. Making my own way out the back door of the clinic was both a relief and a loss since there was no longer any excuse for Mathias to carry me around, a completely ridiculous way for me to feel about it. I shoved away the feelings that made me want Mathias’ attention and focused on the important result of the painful switch from cast to brace. Now, I would be able to get around on my own without hopping or relying on Mathias for aid. If we were going to part ways, that was what I needed to concentrate on . . . not the feelings stirred up when being held by a 10.
The pain in my ankle kept me awake and, regrettably, alert as we drove from the clinic to Edinburgh’s airport. I watched the lights of planes and airships lifting into the night sky. Despite how long the clinic visit had felt, it was actually only a little after seven in the evening when we entered the airport proper. I stared at Mathias in surprise when he ushered me to one of the gates, but didn’t immediately leave for his own. I had been more than certain that this was where he planned to part ways. I glanced around, but everyone seemed preoccupied with their own flights. For some reason, it was of the utmost importance that I understood what he meant to do. Was he just assuring himself that I was going to get on the plane? Or something else entirely? I wasn’t sure and I needed to know.
Mathias was checking his watch when I leaned over to whisper, “Where exactly am I going?”
“London,” came the equally quiet reply.
“And, where are you going?”
Mathias glanced at me, his gaze unreadable. “Also London.”
I hesitated, suddenly uncertain if I really wanted to know the answer to my next question. But, I couldn’t seem to help myself. I licked my lips and then asked in a breathless whisper, “So we’ll go our separate ways at Heathrow?”
His arm settled around my shoulders, startling me, but then he leaned in close and his blue-green eyes pinned me in place. His breath was warm against my skin as he leaned in even closer and whispered in my ear, “We don’t have a lot of time, Hope. Just play along for now.”
That was the second time he had called me by my surname. It wasn’t the name on my Mrs. Jones’ ID and passport. It bothered me to hear him call me ‘Hope’ instead of ‘Lauren.’ It bothered me a lot. The call came for passengers to board the plane, and Mathias grabbed our go bags. Fortunately, they counted as carry-on. I was among the first to be seated due to my crutches and injured foot. Something that was only a slight relief. Mathias sat next to me and drummed his fingers against his knee a
s the other passengers streamed onto the plane until I finally reached over and covered his hand with mine. When he looked down at me, I offered a faint smile. “It will be fine.”
“It will be tricky,” he corrected. “We will need to catch the express to Paddington, and then take the underground to reach Euston station. If we don’t land before ten, we could very well miss the train.”
No sooner had he spoken than the plane taxied onto the runway. I gripped his hand a little tighter as we took off. Once we were in the air, I leaned closer to him as I whispered, “Why fly back to London if you are concerned about a train? There was a train station in Edinburgh.”
His breath stirred the tendrils of hair that had fallen around my face as he replied softly, “Because we are going to take the Caledonian Sleeper to Inverness by way of Edinburgh.”
I leaned back abruptly staring at him. My brow furrowed. I glanced around, but the seats around us were empty. Still I kept my voice as low and soft as possible as I whispered, “Back to Scotland?”
Mathias nodded. When I started to say more, question him, he held up a hand. “Later.”
Realizing I had no choice and it was rather foolish to try to question him about our escape plan when anyone could overhear us, I let it go. I still didn’t understand what was going on. I had been certain Mathias’ coldness meant that he intended to abandon me to my own devices. If not in Edinburgh, then at Heathrow. But now, he was talking about catching trains to go back to Scotland. Together. The man made no sense whatsoever.
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