So many thoughts. So very many thoughts.
Gavin opened his mouth, but Chloe raised a hand and he shut it.
“So Emilie was a con artist and not who she said she was.”
“Her real name is probably not Emilie.”
“I guessed that part,” Chloe said.
Gavin spoke up. “Sugar-buns?”
Chloe’s eyes swung back to him and she shrugged.
“You haven’t even checked my buns to see if they’re to your liking.” His eyes heated. “But feel free. In fact, you’re welcome to check anything you like. If you’re looking for descriptors, I’d be happy to provide you a more accurate list.”
Chloe looked at him. “Seriously?”
“Yes, I’m quite serious about that.”
Ben started, “What Tenzin was trying to say—”
“Is that Emilie lied about Nazis stealing her family’s art,” Chloe said.
“Yes.”
“The basic story she told us is correct,” Tenzin said. “I have reason to believe that the Lady of Normandy is actually Emil Samson’s sister, Adele. She must have become a vampire before her brother was killed. She had a child, but that child died during the war. Her husband died as well. The whole family died. Except for Adele.”
“Her whole family was killed.” The black mourning garb of the vampire made a lot more sense when Chloe saw it in that light. “And Emilie—or whatever her name is—knew just enough of that story to lie to Ben? You mean she faked all those clippings and photographs and postcards at the apartment. Her grandmother—”
“Not her grandmother. Someone hired her. Emilie wasn’t working alone.”
“But she used Adele’s real story and Emil’s death to… steal Adele’s own painting from her?”
“Yes,” Ben said.
“That bitch!”
Ben and Gavin’s eyes both went wide.
“She used a tragedy to lie to us so we would help her steal from the real owner, the artist’s own sister?”
Gavin said, “Apparently yes.”
“I hate her so much right now.” She glanced at Ben. “Who is René DuPont? Was that the old lady?”
“No, the old lady was Valerie Beekman from Queens. Pretty sure she’s headed upstate to visit her daughter after our talk earlier tonight.”
“Well, she’s a liar too.” Chloe got more and more incensed as she thought about it. “So this chick used you to steal a painting for her?”
“Yes.”
“She just… used you. Like a tool!”
Gavin started laughing, and Ben grimaced. “That’s not exactly the way I’d put it, but—”
“Tenzin called this René guy your nemesis. I didn’t know that was actually a thing.” She glanced at Gavin. “And you! You’re helping so you can sign a good wine distribution deal?”
“You’ve seen the bills for the Costa de Prata.”
“And I’ve seen what you charge for it,” Chloe said. “You’re doing just fine.”
“I don’t want to interrupt your tirade,” Tenzin said, “because it’s really quite good. But are you going to pay those bills tonight?”
“Yes, Tenzin. Just give me a chance to deal with…” Chloe waved a hand at Ben and Gavin. “All this.”
Gavin asked, “What’s wrong with using this opportunity to make a better deal with a producer?” He sidled over to Chloe and tucked a tight coil of hair behind her ear. “You smell delicious tonight. Have you eaten anything? Shall we order some food?”
He was incorrigible.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Stop trying to charm me.”
“I could but I won’t, because I enjoy it too much.”
“Self-indulgent vampire,” she muttered.
“I know. I really am,” he said. “You should move in with me and keep me accountable for all my sins.”
Chloe’s cheeks heated at the thought of Gavin’s sins. “I am not your mother.”
“I should hope not.” He raised an eyebrow. “But you’re welcome to be my keeper.”
“You don’t want that either.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Stop trying to distract me, and tell me what’s going on.”
Gavin’s charming facade slipped. “I doona want you involved.”
“I’m already involved. I need you to keep me informed.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, but he nodded. “We think René is going to try to steal the other two paintings. He’ll want the complete set, whether he’s been hired for it or not.”
“The other two are at MoMA.”
“I know. Ben and Tenzin were just—”
“Wait.” She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her email. She’d gotten something from the museum newsletter. Something about the surrealist exhibit… “They are at MoMA, but they won’t be there for long. The exhibit’s last night is tomorrow. Friday night. They just sent out a reminder today for museum members.”
Ben said, “That’s when they’ll go for it. It’ll be over the weekend. Probably Saturday night.”
“Why?” Chloe asked.
“Because things are always easiest to steal when they’re being moved,” Gavin said. “Everything is in flux. The museum will be open over the weekend. People complain about noise and Americans are ridiculously accommodating, so the museum staff will be working at night.”
Ben was looking at his phone. “There’s an exhibition of Picasso’s pen-and-ink drawings scheduled to open less than two weeks after the surrealist exhibit closes.”
Gavin said, “Pen-and-ink means books. Sketchpads. Those need cases. Tables. Flat surfaces for display. They’re going to break the surrealists down and move them as quickly as possible. They’ll have a lot of shuffling to do.”
“Can we take advantage of that?” Ben asked. “Tenzin said museum security is tight.”
“There are protocols for breaking down a museum exhibit,” Gavin said, “but they can be rushed. And every one is a little different. Mistakes are unavoidable. Some of the paintings and sculptures will be moved back to other parts of the museum. Some will go into storage. Others will be delivered back to donors. With everything in transit…”
“The two other Labyrinth paintings will be vulnerable,” Tenzin said. “They’re two paintings among dozens, most of which are far more valuable. Samson’s not unknown, but he’s not Magritte or Dali.”
“Exactly,” Gavin said. “We have to get into the museum Saturday night.” He looked at Tenzin. “Any ideas?”
“Oh…” Tenzin smiled. “One or two.”
25
Ben drank a beer on Tom’s couch, watching the man tape the ribs Ben had just broken. Tom might have been an abusive asshole, but he had decent taste in beer. Ben pressed his swollen knuckles to the cold glass bottle.
Fighting hurt. Which was why most movie fight scenes were complete bullshit. He should have used the marble paperweight again. His hands were too valuable to break. This was why Ben avoided violence when he could. Adrenaline was the antithesis of thinking.
Tom winced as he twisted his torso to secure the tape. “Are you done?”
“With what?”
“With me?”
The man had two black eyes and a broken lip. Three ribs were fractured and his hands and throat were bruised. Ben had refrained from doing more damage to Tom’s skull. He didn’t want to have to take the man to the emergency room.
Tom stared at him through two black eyes.
Two black eyes.
Cut lips.
Broken ribs.
Bruised windpipe.
They were the same injuries Chloe had born months ago when she first came to Ben’s apartment in the middle of the night.
Was it enough?
“Be wise, Benjamin Vecchio. For though a sword must be drawn to protect the needy, and anger is necessary for survival, a lack of discipline leads only to death in the spirit.”
The doctor’s words came back to him.
Was it enough?
It had
to be. He’d received no pleasure from beating Tom. As Arjan Singh had predicted, there was only a dulling of his spirit, a cold, ruthless shell that coated his skin like an animal’s carapace and grew thicker with every bruise he left on the man.
Ben had satisfied the relentless drive to make Tom pay, but it gave him little satisfaction. It wasn’t about that. It was about evening the scales. Tom was a bully and a criminal. Chloe would never forget being helpless under his fists. Tom needed to know what it was like to feel helpless too. Had the bully learned a lesson?
Maybe. Only time would tell.
“It’s enough,” Ben said. “As long as you never lay another hand on a woman.”
The man nodded.
“I want to hear it, Tom.”
“I will never lay another hand on a woman,” Tom said.
“You’ll stay in the city so I can keep an eye on you. I left my card. If you move, you will email me. If you don’t, I’ll find you. Do you believe me?”
The second time Ben had visited Tom, he’d been holed up at a hotel.
The third time he’d met Ben with a gun.
Neither option had deterred Ben. After the third visit, Tom didn’t try to fight.
“I will find you,” Ben said more softly. “Do you believe me?”
“Yes.”
“If you try to run, I’ll send my partner after you. She’s not as even-tempered as I am.” Ben finished his beer and stood. “You don’t want my partner coming after you, Tom.”
“I understand,” the man said through gritted teeth.
“Are you going to try to contact Chloe again?”
“I don’t know anyone named Chloe.”
“No, you don’t.” Ben walked to the door, opened it, and closed it behind him.
He was done.
Gavin was waiting for him on the sidewalk, looking up at the lights of Tom’s apartment.
“She’d never know,” he said.
“She’d figure it out.” Ben flexed his sore hands. “Come on, Gavin.”
Gavin didn’t move.
“She doesn’t want this. She’s not impressed by macho behavior or strutting. She’d be pissed at me if she knew I was still coming here. You don’t need to make her angry at you too. I’m done.”
“And I have not even begun,” Gavin said. “I want him dead.”
“It’s not about you.” Ben bumped his shoulder with Gavin’s. “She didn’t want him dead.”
Gavin looked away from the windows and met Ben’s eyes. The rage took Ben by surprise. Gavin’s fangs were elongated. The air around him stirred, as if he’d lost an edge of control over his amnis. Ben had known Gavin had feelings for Chloe, but this level of anger indicated a far greater attachment than he realized.
“It’s not about you,” Ben repeated. “It’s about Chloe. And she wants to put this behind her. I returned to him every bruise and every break he dealt her. So we need to let it go. I’ll keep tabs and make sure he’s not a threat to anyone else. Anything more than that is indulgence.”
Something passed over Gavin’s face. Recognition? Awareness? The air around him stilled and his fangs fell back. The anger retreated and the laconic humor returned. “Christ, you sound so much like Giovanni when you’re lecturing me. It’s enough to make me boak the blood I drank for dinner.”
“Thanks.” The cold carapace of violence thinned. “I can think of a lot worse comparisons than me to my uncle right now.”
“Are you still brooding about the girl?” Gavin rolled his eyes. “Everyone takes their turn as a mark, Ben. I’ve been fooled. I doubt Tenzin would admit it, but so has she. There’s always someone just as smart as we are, looking for a crack in the armor.”
“You admitting you have cracks?”
“Everyone has cracks.” Gavin’s face was deadly serious. “Anyone that tells you different is a lying shit.”
They walked in silence for four more blocks.
“Do you think Tenzin’s plan will work?”
“Yes, because we’re vampires and both she and I can use amnis. Humans on their own?” Gavin shook his head. “Not on your life. If you tried to pull this off on your own, you’d be in a jail cell.”
“Thanks.”
Gavin cracked a smile. “What do the kids say these days? I’m keeping it real.”
Gavin and Ben arrived back at the apartment to hear the sounds of thumping and grunting on the floor below. Ben ran down the steps to see Chloe lying on the ground, arms spread wide, staring up at the ceiling.
“What’s going on?”
Chloe panted. “That’s. Totally. Unfair.”
“What?” Ben ran to her and looked up.
Tenzin was hovering over Chloe, nearly in the rafters. “Fighting with vampires is not fair,” she said. “You need to find our weaknesses or you’ll have no chance of surviving.”
Gavin walked in behind Ben. He must have stopped in the kitchen, because he was holding a beer. “What’s going on?”
Chloe glanced over, her eyes darted down. “Speaking of unfair.”
Gavin looked amused. “All’s fair.”
Ben frowned and looked down. “What is she talking about?”
Gavin kicked up a knee, and Ben noticed he was wearing a kilt that night.
“And?”
“Kilts are catnip these days,” Gavin said. “Bloody cable television is doing half my work for me.”
Ben glanced down. “Well, you do have great legs, Gavin. Very shapely.”
“Thank you. I work out.”
“Really?” Ben asked.
“No, you idiot. I’m a vampire.” Gavin unlaced his combat boots at the edge of the mat and set his beer down. “Come now, dove, you can’t lie there all night and try to sneak a look up my kilt.” He walked over and held out a hand to Chloe. “Up you go.”
She let him help her up and stretched her shoulders. “You’re doing it on purpose.”
“What, love?”
“Wearing more kilts.” She turned and Gavin rubbed her shoulders. “You know I like them.”
“Of course it’s on purpose.” He ran his hands down her back, but it wasn’t a seductive move. It was… comforting. Almost routine. A man rubbing his woman’s back after she’d had a long day.
Ben looked up at Tenzin, who was watching them with a smile. He nodded toward Gavin and Chloe. Tenzin just shrugged.
“You’re not done,” Tenzin said. “I want you to practice that throw on someone taller.”
“What throw?” Ben asked.
“Judo,” Gavin said. “Tenzin’s been practicing judo with Chloe. My suggestion.”
“Judo?” Ben should have thought of judo. It was his aunt’s martial art of choice.
Gavin nodded. “It’s a good choice for beginners. And especially good for Chloe with her build.”
Chloe smiled. “What Gavin means is I have thunder thighs.”
“What I mean is you’re a fucking brilliant athlete with a mass of power in your legs, hips, and abdominals,” he growled. “Which means you need to be utilizing techniques that make the most of those strengths, not focusing on the fancy footwork and swordplay these two practice. Tenzin can fly.” He pointed at Ben. “That one has abnormally long arms for his height.”
Ben frowned. “They’re not abnormal.” Were they?
“It gives him a massive reach for hand-to-hand combat and swords. But you will do better with judo.” He unbuckled his belt and tossed it near his boots. “Try me.”
Chloe’s eyes went wide. “What? No.”
“Why not?” Gavin said with a wink. “Worried you’ll be overwhelmed if you see what’s going on underneath, dove?”
“You’re ridiculous. And no, because you’re way bigger than me.”
It was true. Gavin wasn’t a massive man. Probably five foot ten inches or so. He was well-built and leanly muscled. But Chloe was tiny. She was a full foot shorter than Ben, even if she was strong.
“Throwing a larger opponent is the point,” Tenzin said. “Most of yo
ur opponents will be bigger than you. You can’t fly to get away.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” Chloe grumbled, squaring off against Gavin.
Ben could see her nerves start to build.
“Focus on what we talked about,” Tenzin said. “See the geometry of his body and yours. Find your center of gravity.”
Chloe let out a breath and looked Gavin up and down.
“I love it when you do that,” he muttered.
“I’m not trying to flirt.”
“So you say.”
In a burst of speed, Chloe stepped forward and planted her right foot by Gavin’s. She locked his arm in hers and pulled him off-balance at the same time she twisted and planted her hip against his pelvis, then she bent down and tossed him over her right shoulder. In seconds, she was straddling his chest with both thighs, holding him against the mat.
Gavin groaned.
Her eyes went wide. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. That was perfectly executed. Well done.”
“So why are you groaning?”
Chloe tried to move, but Gavin grabbed her wrists.
“Fucking hell,” he said. “That was incredibly sexy.”
Chloe was breathing in short bursts. “What?”
“So damn sexy.”
The color rose on Chloe’s cheeks. “I wasn’t doing it to turn you on.”
“I know.”
I do not need to see this. Ben inched toward the stairwell.
Nope.
Ben could accept Gavin having the hots for Chloe in theory, but he didn’t need to witness it.
“You were so damn good.” Gavin twisted his wrists out of her grip and sat up with preternatural grace, scooting Chloe down so she straddled his hips. “You took your time analyzing my stance, but once you’d decided, you moved so fast.”
“It’s a little like dance. Slow training, then a burst of speed at execution.”
Midnight Labyrinth Page 27
