Stone Angel (6 page)

But look at Amanda's eyes… She might hate
him. She might blame him. But underneath the fury and reproach, the
face of the woman he loved was pleading, and so, so sad.

He was such a schmuck. “All right,” he said.
“I’ll go with you to Irving’s house.”

She beamed with pure joy.

“
But
I’m
not
agreeing to
anything. First we’ll discuss the plan and my involvement in it.
For this amount of money, it can’t be a pleasant thing that I have
to do.” He bent all his charm on her. “But for you, darlin’, I
would do almost anything.”

Amanda had a brief moment where she forgot
the danger she was in and the horrible fate of her sister if she
didn’t succeed. All of the anxiety, the sleepless nights of the
last months fell away in the face of Liam’s smile, the one she used
to believe he saved for her.

In that
moment, she remembered the months before Sophia was taken, when
Liam had escorted the two of them around New York – for a Broadway
showing of
West Side Story
,
an idyllic picnic of cheeses, cold meat and champagne in Central
Park, a slow Sunday stroll through the Metropolitan Museum of
Art.

She
remembered the nights she and Liam had stayed up after Sophia had
gone to bed. When they had watched
When Harry Met Sally
and cuddled long after the movie had
ended. He had brought her flowers – lilies, roses, once a fresh cut
bundle of hyacinth – at work so many times, her coworkers had taken
to calling him Casanova. Those months together had been
magical.

And every moment had been a lie.

Amanda shook herself. It did not do to dwell
on the past. She was no longer a girl in the first throes of love.
She was a bitter woman, betrayed and alone, tired to her very
core.

Sighing
with regret, she replied, “You’d do anything for money, Liam, not
for me. Don’t try and make yourself into a knight on a white horse.
I already know who you are, who you work for. You’ll do the job.
Irving will give you money. You can go do whatever it is you
want.
As long
as you leave Sophia and I alone
. After tomorrow, whether we succeed or fail, I never want
to see you again.” Her voice cracked slightly, the emotions taking
their toll. She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders.
“Never.”

Liam looked for a moment as though he might
argue. But the expression on her face must have changed his mind.
He smoothed his bottle green apron and adopted an air of studied
indifference. “If that’s what you want.”

Amanda thought he looked almost sad. But it
was probably just that he enjoyed seeing her every week,
remembering that he had played her for a fool. Perhaps he liked to
watch the dark circles under her eyes get worse and worse as the
nights passed in fitful dream-filled sleep punctuated by hours of
wandering the corridors of Irving’s mansion. She was sure that must
be it – Liam hoped to watch her deteriorate, see her beauty fade
and her hopes of happiness wash away. “Yes,” she said. “It is what
I want. Now perhaps you could take off that apron so we can go
visit Irving and his millions.”

Liam adopted a truly annoying tone of
superiority. “Amanda, if you think I’m the only one watching you
right now, you’re being naïve. There are two Others outside of this
store right now. They follow you at all times, in case you don’t
have a chance to report Irving’s movements and he exits his
home.”

“Really?” She had never considered that her
every move was under surveillance. “Are they in the store,
too?”

“They should be. But I chose this place
specifically because those guys would never go into a kitchen
store. Being around a pink carrot juicer might make their wee-wee
shrivel.”

She couldn’t help it. She had to say it. “Is
that what happened to you?”

“No, darlin’. The only shriveled thing on me
is my ego, and you caused that.” Liam’s lips compressed into a thin
line. “I’ll have to change into someone else if I’m to go to
Irving’s. So I’ll take these eyeglasses back to the fellow I
knocked out in the break room and get hopping.”

Amanda felt her cheeks flush again, this time
in horror. “And your plan is to knock another person out and take
their identity?”

A man who was clearly a husband with a
gift-buying deadline glanced toward the corner where Liam and
Amanda had sequestered themselves. Hurrying over, he grabbed a set
of three silicone pastry brushes tied with a bright blue ribbon,
and turned to Liam in triumph.

Liam adopted his gruff voice again. “Let me
take you over to the cashier, sir.” Leaning in toward Amanda, he
whispered, “I’ll meet you at Irving’s. Tonight.”

As Liam and his next unsuspecting target
walked away, Amanda heard the man say plainly, “My wife is a
utensil fanatic. She’ll like these, right? What are they
anyway?”

When they reached the cashiers, Liam patted
the man on the shoulder. He walked quickly to the backroom. A few
moments later, the worried husband emerged.

But … the worried husband was still standing
at the cashier’s, offering his credit card and pleading for
reassurance.

Amanda glanced between the two of them.

Worried husband number two winked at her,
walked outside, and blended instantly into the crowd.

Amanda sighed. No matter how often Liam did
that, he always surprised her. She pulled her Fair Isle gloves back
on, placed her indigo fleece hat over her tightly coiffed blond
bun, and went back into the cold to hail a cab.

And saw Robbie. Robbie, the guy who had
broken into her apartment with Eric the thug. The guy who had been
so surprised and oddly dismayed when his cohort had been killed by
a ricocheting bullet.

She glared at him.

He stared back at her as if puzzled. As if
her hostility puzzled him. Or as if … he was struggling to remember
something, and couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

She couldn’t maintain her indignation. He
seemed so … dumb. In over his head.

Well, aren’t we all
?

Still … she smiled rather bitterly. Part one
of the plan to save Sophia had been a success.

Looking relieved, Robbie smiled back.

On to part two.

AMANDA KNOCKED on the door of Irving’s
mansion, then backed up when Caleb yanked it open. The Chosen Ones
were arrayed behind him. Everyone looked anxious — except McKenna,
who strode majestically into the foyer in time to scowl at Caleb
for daring to perform one of his favorite butler duties.

To placate McKenna, Amanda made a show of
wiping her boots on the large bristly boot brush he kept by the
door and carefully handing him her coat and hat. How he kept track
of everyone’s outerwear was a mystery. But he always appeared with
the right coats and scarves, all looking suspiciously pressed,
whenever anyone mentioned that they’d be going out.

Charisma was, not surprisingly, the first to
speak. “Well? Did he agree? Will he help you get your sister back?”
She bounced on the balls of her feet in anticipation.

Irving’s voice sounded from behind the Chosen
Ones, slicing effortlessly through their murmurs despite its
halting quietness. “This would be best discussed over dinner.”

The Chosen Ones, all dedicated to the
importance of an excellent meal, followed Irving as Martha pushed
him into the dining room. Irving was wheeled to the head of the
table.

Amanda sat at his right hand as she had since
her arrival in the house, in case he needed help cutting his meat
or dealing with other motor skills that were impeded by his shaky
hands.

The Chosen and their mates exclaimed
appreciatively over the tapas arranged on a giant Lazy Susan in the
middle of the table. There were dates wrapped in bacon,
coriander-spiced almonds, spicy citrus olives, and slices of
Manchego and blue cheese paired with Serrano ham and sliced
pears.

Amanda knew from experience that this was
only the first course. Since the Chosen Ones had moved into
Irving’s home, Sunday had become the day for tapas, and no one
prepared the Spanish delicacies better than Martha.

Once all
the Chosen Ones were seated and had filled their plates, Samuel
spoke. “
Now
can we know
what happened with the Other?”

“Patience, Samuel, patience. Can’t you tell
Amanda needs a moment to collect herself?” Irving looked sternly
but affectionately at their most impatient and sarcastic Chosen.
True, Samuel was less caustic since he and Isabelle had fallen in
love (again), but he would always be the bluntest person in the
group.

Amanda caught a glimpse of herself in one of
the gilded mirrors that lined the walls. No wonder Irving thought
she needed some food. She looked pale, almost ghostly, her
porcelain skin stretched too tight over her cheek bones.

She made a conscious effort to relax. She
hadn’t even realized how wound up she still was. Making a tiny
sandwich with blue cheese and red pear on a sesame cracker, she
took a bite, savoring the flavors and forgetting for a moment about
the last two days.

She stiffened instantly when she heard a
heavy booming knock on the front door.

McKenna glided from the room, a talent which
always amazed Amanda considering what a stocky man he was. About a
minute later, he appeared in the doorway, looking cross, and
announced “Mr. Liam Gallagher.”

Amanda instantly figured out what had McKenna
in such a tizzy. Liam had clearly refused to give up his soft
leather coat to the crotchety Scotsman. The fact Liam was Irish
probably wasn’t helping his estimation in McKenna’s eyes, either …
McKenna was Scottish to his very bones.

The group around the table turned in unison,
eager to see the Other who had betrayed Amanda.

Charisma murmured appreciatively, and Amanda
could see why.

Liam looked like the handsome, dashing
son-of-a-bitch that he was. His blue jeans hugged his long legs and
muscular thighs, his black t-shirt fit tightly along his slim
torso, and his black leather jacket looked as smooth as butter and
broad across his shoulders. His black hair fell rakishly over one
brilliant blue eye. He looked incredibly handsome … and incredibly
uncomfortable.

Good.

Amanda let him sweat it a moment longer
before rising. “Liam, won’t you come in and sit down?” She pointed
to the seat on Irving’s left-hand side.

Liam collected himself, nodding at the
assembled group, and sat in the proffered chair. Addressing the
curious faces around the table, Liam said, “I’m sorry I’m late. I
had to change into three different people to make sure that the
Others assigned to tail Amanda didn’t realize it was me coming to
the house.”

“What was your final shape?” Jacqueline
asked.

“A pizza delivery guy. Your butler collected
the empty pizza boxes when I came in the door.”

McKenna harrumphed softly. He didn’t approve
of delivered foods.

Liam continued, “But it took me a minute to
change back into myself.”

Rosamund looked up from her plate curiously.
“Yours is a different power than I’ve researched. I wasn’t aware
that the change from form to form took any amount of time.”

Liam seemed to consider whether answering
this line of questioning was wise, given that he was essentially
having dinner with his sworn enemies. “Well, it’s not
instantaneous,” he said thoughtfully. “The farther from my own form
it is, the longer it takes for me to change back. That’s why I
rarely change into a woman. It takes quite a while to return to my
usual shape. And the in-between isn’t pleasant-looking.”

The Chosen laughed softly.

“You can change your entire appearance merely
by touching someone?” Rosamund asked.

Liam turned to regard her. “No, actually the
only thing that doesn’t change is my tattoo.”

The Chosen Ones and their mates nodded.

Amanda sat up straighter.

Rosamund said matter-of-factly, “That makes
sense. All of the Abandoned Ones have some sort of marking. What is
your tattoo?”

“A dragon,” Liam said. “I must say it made my
life in an Irish orphanage a bit more difficult. The Irish were all
about dragons until Christianity came along and Saint Patrick rid
Ireland of the snakes. Now, dragons aren’t seen as a particularly
good omen.”

Samuel asked, “How big of a dragon are we
talking here? Loch Ness-sized?”

Isabelle giggled.

Liam seemed to be tiring of the subject.

But Amanda was on the edge of her seat. She
had never seen Liam shirtless, and she had had no idea that he was
marked … probably because that might have given away his identity
as one of the Others.

Liam sighed. “Not quite that large. But it
does extend from my left hip, across my chest to my right
shoulder.”

“Impressive,” Rosamund breathed.

“
Yes, ma’am
.”
Charisma leaned forward and as if she could actually see the
dragon, she ran her gaze up and down Liam’s well-shaped
torso.

The guys looked chagrinned.

“Down, girls,” Irving said.

Amanda wanted let her gaze wander, too. In
fact, for one moment, she did — until Liam caught her gaze, his
mouth quirked, and she pretended she was staring past him.

Nice save, Amanda. He was totally fooled.
Not
.

Irving offered a shaky hand to Liam. “Mr.
Gallagher, I am Irving Shea. Or as my friends like to call me, Old
Moneybags.” As Liam shook his hand, Irving chuckled at his own
joke. “Please, feel free to fill a plate. Martha is an excellent
cook.”

Liam looked at Martha, whose expression
showed no glow of pride or really any emotion at all.