Out of Time (25 page)

She handed the rag back to Dix, gathered her tray and gave Simon a forced smile.

He touched her arm gently and she looked at him with an odd expression. Whatever it was that crossed her face faded, and she gave him a genuine smile. “I’m okay. Really.”

He let her go and watched as she served a table. He knew she was lying; she was far from all right. As the evening wore on, Simon kept a close eye on her. Slowly, her body language eased, and she engaged the customers with her usual charm. The strange way she’d looked at him earlier kept tugging at his mind. He wasn’t sure if it was only his dour nature or there really was something looming on the horizon. But as work ended that night, he had the feeling that their journey had taken a sharp left into the darkness.

Elizabeth knew she should have told him right away. The longer she waited, the harder it was to get the words out, and the worse his reaction was going to be. Simon had known something was wrong straight off and tried to ease it out of her. When that failed, he poked and prodded, until her silence rubbed off on him, and he withdrew to the isolation of his chair by the window—his fortress of solitude.

What a hypocrite she was. Last night she’d badgered him into telling her his worst fears. Now, given an easier task, she was taking the chicken exit. She knew what he was going to say, the argument they would have. Just for a few more hours she wanted the closeness they’d found to stay. For all the good it had done her. He’d withdrawn his questions and himself. Anything would be better than the chilling silence. The cold, gray light of predawn glowed outside the window. Time to own up.

He sat stiffly in his chair, his back ramrod straight, glaring out the window.

Rock, meet Hard Place. Hard Place, this is Rock.

“King invited me to dinner.”

Whatever he’d been expecting her to say, that wasn’t it. He turned to her and looked almost relieved. “Did he?”

“I know I should have told you right away, but I was afraid of how you’d react.”

“Is that what all this is about?”

“Well, yeah.” Where was the anger? The possessive, ‘Bess, you is my woman now’?

He almost laughed and then rose from the chair. “Good lord, I thought it was something dire.”

“It isn’t?”

He grinned and sat next to her on the bed. “Comparatively? No.”

“Really?” That wasn’t quite the reaction she’d expected. He seemed almost nonplussed. She’d expected him to be plussed all over the place.

Seeming to think the issue was finished, he slipped off his shoes and tugged off his socks. “You’re a beautiful woman. He’s a man completely without a shred of decency. I’m actually surprised it took him this long. How did he take it when you refused?”

That explained the reaction, or lack thereof.

“I can’t imagine he was too pleased,” Simon said with a small smile. “I wish I could have seen it.”

“I accepted.” She hadn’t meant to blurt it like that, but the words came out in a big, fat, ugly blob.

His hands stopped in mid-motion and his head snapped up. “You what?”

For all the time she’d had to come up with a plausible story, everything slipped out of her mind at the anger and betrayal in his eyes. “It’s not what you think.”

“Then you’re not having dinner with him?”

“No, I am. It’s—”

“What the hell can you be thinking?” he shouted and stood, towering over her.

There it was.

“He saved my life,” she said, ignoring his derisive snort. “I owe him for that.”

“And I’m sure dinner is all he wants.”

“Simon—”

“Don’t be naïve. At worst, he’s a vampire and you won’t live the night. Or he’s a gangster, hardly better. At best, he’s a man whose interest in you goes far beyond dinner conversation, I can assure you. How can you possibly expect me to roll on my back while this creature, this man, goes after my wife!” His expression faltered and he turned away.

She moved to stand behind him, but he moved away before she could reach out to touch him. “Simon, please?”

The desperation in her voice must have penetrated his anger, because when he turned around his eyes softened for a moment, and the Simon she loved peeked through. He looked as if he were about to touch her but thought better of it.

She closed her eyes. She’d been hoping, stupidly hoping, she wouldn’t have to tell him the whole of it, but there didn’t seem any other way now.

“Do you really think I’d do this if I had a choice?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, taking a step closer. “Did he threaten you?”

“No,” she said, and let her shoulders sag under the weight they’d been carrying. “Not me.”

“Me then?”

She nodded. “You and Charlie. Oh, he didn’t say it flat out, but it was clear enough.”

“I see.”

“So, I go.”

“Don’t be absurd. You’re not going to dinner with that man. My God. What if he really is a vampire?”

“Maybe you missed the whole threatening part, but that sort of made it a lock for me.”

Simon walked over to the armoire, took out their suitcase and set it on the bed. “We’ll leave immediately. If his threats are legitimate, and we have to assume they are, we can be miles away before he suspects.”

“We can’t leave.”

He ignored her and took their clothes from the hangers and tossed them into the case. “Perhaps Philadelphia,” he said to himself. “Or maybe a small town. We’ll see what tickets are available at the train station for the money we have.”

“I can’t leave,” she said in a mixture of defeat and resoluteness.

Simon crossed to the dresser and pulled open the drawers. “Of course you can. What choice is there?”

“Staying.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

She bristled at his tone and moved into his path. “I’m not being ridiculous, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Elizabeth—”

“How could we? What about Charlie? How can you turn your back on him?”

Simon tossed the clothes he had in his hands onto the bed and sighed heavily. “With surprising ease, when it comes to a question of your safety or his.”

“I’m not the one in danger.”

“I beg to differ.”

Elizabeth came to his side. “If I don’t go to dinner with King, good people will be hurt and I can’t live with that. I won’t let that happen.”

“Even after what I told you last night? he asked. He felt betrayed. She could see it in his eyes. “You may think they’re just dreams, but I know what they are. They’re as real to me as you are right now.”

He cupped her cheeks. “Losing you is real to me. We should run. Now, while we have the chance.”

“And losing you is just as real to me,” she said. “I can’t go. Not if it means someone else will get hurt.”

She looked into his eyes, willing him to understand. She didn’t like this anymore than he did, but King hadn’t given her any choice.

“And when the eclipse comes? And King finds you’re gone? What happens to Charlie then? One way or the other, we’re leaving town, Elizabeth. There’s no reason to wait. The outcome is the same either way.”

She hadn’t thought of that. She’d been so caught up in the here and now, what happened after they went back to their time didn’t even cross her mind. “All I know is, right now, I can keep Charlie and you safe by going. So, I go.”

“It’s insane.”

Elizabeth let out a shuddering sigh. “I know.”

She could see him struggling, see him weighing his options, considering drastic measures.

“Even if you could force me to go,” she said, knowing his desperation might force his thoughts there, “I might be safe, but if something happened, I’d hate you for it. Hate myself.”

She took his hands in hers. “I’ll come back to you.”

He looked down at her, his emotions raw. He gently caressed the side of her face and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m lost without you.”

Elizabeth laid her hand on his chest. “It’ll be all right,” she said. “I don’t know how, but I know it will be. We’ll find a way.”

TWILIGHT BLANKETED THE CITY. Dull, gray light swallowed the afternoon shadows. Depth and perspective muted into a flat, colorless world. Simon stood motionless, only dimly aware of the city bustling around him as King’s tan and black car pulled away with Elizabeth in the back seat. Cars, no more than blurs of black, crowded the street. People, hurried and faceless, wove their way around him. And he stood.

He’d let her go. It all seemed an impossible dream, a scene from one of his nightmares. Perhaps it was. His heart thrummed against his ribs, every sinew in his body taut, and yet, he couldn’t move. He vaguely wondered if he was suffering from apoplexy.

He was a fool. A simple, excruciating answer to a complex question. The constant barrage of his nightmares had somehow left him in submission to fate. An entropy of will in the face of the inevitable.

But what could he have done? Thrown her over his shoulder and carted her off to parts unknown? She was right, she would have hated him for it, but she would have been safe. Did he really need her love and acceptance more than her life itself?

He’d been so dazed by the revelation that she loved him, that he could be loved, that he’d accepted the transience of it all. After all, to love someone was to lose them. But now that he’d tasted what life could be like, there was no going back. The few weeks they’d shared weren’t enough. A lifetime with Elizabeth wouldn’t be enough.

It was a graceless epiphany, but one nonetheless. Invigorated with a purpose, Simon turned on his heels and marched to the door of Charlie’s Blues in the Night. He pushed past Lester and called out to Charlie. Charlie leaned against the cash register talking to Dix when he noticed Simon. “Professor, what can I—”

“King,” Simon interrupted. “Where can I find King Kashian?”

“Ah, you don’t need to—”

“Where?”

Charlie cast a quick, nervous glance at Dix and then rubbed his nose. “I don’t know, Professor.”

Simon grunted impatiently. “Then I’ll ask elsewhere.”

“Wait!” Charlie said, as he came out from behind the bar. “Why do you want to find King?”

Simon hesitated, but then what was the point in lying now? They’d hear about it sooner or later. “Elizabeth’s gone to dinner with him,” he said. “And I plan on interrupting.”

Charlie’s eyes went round with alarm. “Lizzy? Why would she do that?”

As if he weren’t worried enough, Charlie’s near panicked voice sent Simon into overdrive. “Where does he live?”

“You can’t just go bustin’ in. King’s not a man you wanna cross.”

“Neither am I.”

They stood at an impasse. The silence in the room stretched out between them until it was paper thin.

Charlie gave him a measured look. “There’s somethin’ you need to know, Professor.”

Dix paled and gripped his arm. “Charlie.”

“Get me a bottle of the good stuff,” he said without looking away from Simon.

Didn’t this buffoon realize every minute was precious?

“I don’t want a drink.”

Charlie shook his head. “Ain’t for you. Come on,” he said. “Give it over, Dix.”

Her hands trembled as she held the bottle, her eyes beseeching. “But you said we ain’t supposed to say nothin’, Charlie.”

Charlie took the whiskey from her hand and then opened the door to the storeroom. “You might think I’m one stop from Bellevue, but…there’s something you need to know.”

Elizabeth had never been claustrophobic before, but she had the feeling the walls of the elevator were closing in on her as she neared King’s penthouse. She took a few deep, calming breaths and swallowed the urge to make inane small talk with the elevator operator. Not that he would have responded. He hadn’t met her eyes once since she’d gotten in. He looked straight ahead like a soldier, working the car’s levers with quick, sure movements. He brought the car to a stop and the doors opened to reveal a lavish foyer.

Art deco moldings circled the high, arched ceiling of the rotunda. Stark, white, Greek marble statues stood sentinel to over-sized doubled doors. She hesitated and then stepped off the elevator. The doors shut quickly behind her.

She was debating whether to knock or run away when the double doors opened inward. For a second, she thought they’d opened by themselves. Then she saw one of King’s men standing there, devoid of expression. He stepped back and gestured for her to enter. A ghostly butler would have been better.

There was no turning back now, Elizabeth realized as she steadied her jangled nerves and walked inside. She flexed her hands and tried to relax. The last thing she needed was to go into dinner already on edge.

Antiquities from every imaginable period lined the walls of the main hall. Cloisonné vases, intricately carved ivory statues mingled with marble busts and classical paintings. Thick tapestries covered most of the walls. There wasn’t an empty space to be found. It wasn’t exactly cluttered, but full. Too full. The overly ornate chandelier hung overhead like a crystalline storm cloud. Candlelight reflected in jumbled prismatic colors. She shuddered; it wasn’t the cold room temperature, but the impersonal chill of things to be admired, but never touched. Oppressively rich and heavy fabrics covered the windows.

The henchman gestured for her to follow, and she trailed along behind him down the hall. She’d never seen such an ostentatious display of wealth. In spite of her nerves, she couldn’t help but stare. An exquisite soft-paste porcelain vase painted with Roman soldiers and Cleopatra sat nestled on a glass case. Under the glass was row after row of jewelry. Jade, gold, every kind of stone imaginable rested in ornate settings.

To the left was a brown ink drawing of a woman holding the hands of small children. She stopped walking, drawn in by innocence of the piece, so atypical to what she knew of King.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?”

She jumped back and crashed into King, who’d silently moved behind her. “S-sorry. I…Quite a collection.”

He smiled down at her before turning his attention back to the artwork. “I’ve always collected beautiful things.”

She smoothed down her already smooth hair in an attempt to gather her composure. “One of the perks of being richer than God, I guess.”