Midnight Labyrinth
Page 30
“What are you doing?” Chloe hissed.
“I couldn’t just leave her there. Where’s Gavin?”
“That’s who I’m looking for.” She turned right, then left. Hit a dead end. The gallery was a maze. Was it designed to mimic the labyrinth in the painting? She walked back to the previous gallery with Ben still walking behind her.
Emilie had moved beyond shock and was struggling to get free. Without missing a beat, Ben hoisted her over his shoulder. Emilie started to yell as soon as his hand wasn’t over her mouth.
“You bastard! Put me down!”
“Who told you I’m a bastard?” Ben said. “Was it René? I warn you, he doesn’t like me much. Though technically, he’s right. I am a bastard.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Stop being clever. Is there any way to shut her up?”
“Not without hurting her,” Ben said.
And Chloe knew there was no way Ben would be hitting a woman who wasn’t out for his blood.
“Everyone is shouting at the other end of the gallery,” Ben said. “They’re not paying attention to her.”
Ben was right. The crowd near the entrance of the exhibit was shouting one over the other.
“What on earth are they arguing about?” Chloe asked. “How does she do these things?”
“You’re telling me this man, Dr. DuPre, has been harassing you?” The foreman of the maintenance crew stood over René with his arms crossed.
Tenzin’s eyes were wide and innocent. She mumbled, “He propositioned me while I was working.”
It was the absolute truth. Of course, it had been over a year ago and in Scotland while they were both trying to steal a historic sword, but the human hadn’t asked for details.
The foreman glared at René. “Guys like this… Did you report him? This has to be documented, ma’am.”
“He told me he’s the director.” Were her fangs showing? Damn things. They could be truly inconvenient at times like this. “Who would listen to me? I’m new.”
“This is the Museum of Modern Art, Miss Chen. We take that shit seriously around here,” the human said.
She let out a breath. “That’s such a relief. Thank you.”
René’s eyes were shooting daggers at her. Tenzin could also tell he was fighting laughter.
He wasn’t completely evil, no matter what Ben thought. René DuPont was a little too much like Tenzin, a vampire with a flexible sense of morality. He would use any excuse and any method to get what he wanted, but he tried to avoid violence. After all, René was also very vain. The difference between them was she didn’t need other people’s money and she had Ben to use as a moral compass since her own was faulty.
From the back of the crowd, a voice popped up. “Where’s Dr. Walker? I saw her walking around earlier. She’ll know what to do.”
Tenzin saw the two crated Samson paintings sitting propped against a wall as everyone gathered around the bleeding René. She’d broken his nose, which had made a mess, but it was probably healed already. Of course it had healed incorrectly, based on the angle, so René would need to break it again.
Not Tenzin’s problem.
“Where is Dr. Walker?” the maintenance foreman asked. “And who is this guy? He’s a director? I’ve been working here fifteen years; I never seen this guy before.”
“I’ve never seen him either,” another voice chimed in. “Who is he?”
Still another voice said, “Shouldn’t someone call security?”
“Yeah, call security on his ass.”
The foreman’s eyes narrowed on René. “Mister, I’m gonna need to see your ID.”
Tenzin melted back into the crowd. She waited for a few minutes, but the focus seemed to have shifted from her altercation with René to the question of his identity. She picked up the papers Emilie had dropped and walked over to the wall where the two paintings rested. Without a word, she tucked the work order between her lips and picked up the first crate. She couldn’t carry them both without arousing suspicion. A human of her size wouldn’t be strong enough. She’d walked partway down the gallery when she heard someone following her. She dropped the painting and spun around.
It was a dark-haired young man with light brown skin and beautiful mahogany eyes. He was carrying the other crate under his arm.
Tenzin grabbed the work order from her mouth. “Is that the other Labyrinth painting?”
“Yeah.” He glanced over his shoulder and set down the crate. “I thought I could help.”
“Why?”
The young man nodded toward the shouting crowd. “I don’t want to be anywhere near that mess, you know? I just started here, and I don’t need to be caught in any drama. You were taking these down to shipping, right?”
Tenzin nodded.
“Cool.” He lifted the second crate. “I’m happy to help. I know just where to go. Just helped carry a Magritte down there for some local donor. Crazy, huh? That thing is probably worth more than my parents’ house.”
“I know,” Tenzin muttered, picking up the first crate. “It’s criminal. A completely manufactured market for things with little to no intrinsic value.”
“What?”
She turned and offered a closed-mouth smile. “I’ll let you go first. I always get lost.”
Chloe found Gavin trying to fend off Dr. Walker’s advances near the sixth-floor shop. She was hanging on him, trying to shove her hand in the back pocket of his trousers.
“I really think you should sit down, Susan,” Gavin said, his voice strained. “You’re clearly not feeling well.”
“Don’t wanna,” she purred. “Let’s go to my office.”
Chloe stopped and glared at him. “Go a little overboard on the amnis?”
“She has a weak mind and little willpower,” he grumbled, propping Dr. Walker in a corner.
“She didn’t ask to be drugged, Gavin.”
“Can we debate this later?” He spied Ben walking down the hall and cocked his head. “What is that?”
Ben turned. “Emilie.”
“Let me down!”
“Hello, little betrayer.” Gavin cocked his head to the side. “Her face is turning an alarming shade of red.” Gavin walked over and held out his arms. “Give her to me.”
“No!” Emilie said, starting to kick again. “He’s a—”
“Vampire,” Gavin said. “Yes, that’s the point.” He pressed both his palms to Emilie’s neck and she immediately stilled. “Now, little girl, you’re going to go take a nap with this lovely academic with no head for immortal power.”
Chloe frowned. “Wait, do some people have natural resistance to amnis?”
Ben nodded as he handed Emilie to Gavin. “We’re all susceptible, but to different degrees. My resistance is pretty strong. Tenzin said yours is too.”
“How does Tenzin know that?” Chloe asked.
“Uh… with her, it’s sometimes better not to know.”
Gavin walked around the corner with Emilie in his arms. “There’s a rather convenient bench over there.” He lifted Dr. Walker over his shoulder.
“Whoo!” She reached down and grabbed two handfuls of Gavin’s ass. “Now we’re having fun!”
Chloe slapped a hand over her mouth but a snort still escaped. The look on Gavin’s face was priceless.
“You’ll pay for that later,” Gavin said, leveling his eyes on her.
“Sure thing, sugar-buns.”
Gavin disappeared and reappeared a moment later. “They’re both asleep and will be for some time,” he said. “Now, where are the paintings?”
The nice young human was leading Tenzin down another dimly lit corridor. If he weren’t so chatty, she’d probably think he was up to no good.
“I wonder what’s going to happen to that guy, you know?”
“Who?” Tenzin asked. This appeared to be a maintenance tunnel of some kind. Large air-conditioning units hummed loudly.
“The guy who was harassing you,” the young human said.
�
�Oh.” Should she be more angry? “Yes. Yes. He was awful. And should be beaten publicly.”
The young human stopped and turned to her with wide eyes. “Wow. That’s harsh. I mean… I thought he’d just get fired or something.”
That’s right. Public beatings for antisocial behavior had been outlawed long ago in this culture.
“I was joking.” Tenzin smiled but couldn’t open her mouth. It probably appeared more strained than jovial. “He should not be beaten. That was a joke.”
The human nodded but looked a little nervous. “Right.”
“Is the shipping room much farther?”
“Yeah.” He turned around and started walking again. “Let’s just… get these delivered. Quickly.”
Emilie was out of the picture.
René was being publicly humiliated.
The Samson paintings were… not in the gallery where they’d left them.
Neither was Tenzin.
Ben took stock of the current situation while they rushed down the stairs. Leave it to Tenzin to go off plan.
“She always has to make someone bleed,” he muttered. “Is it too much to ask that one job—one single job—not involve bloodshed?”
“What are we doing?” Chloe asked, panting and trying to keep up with Ben.
Gavin said, “That’s an excellent question.”
“We’re finding Tenzin and making sure the paintings get shipped out to the O’Briens tonight,” Ben said. “That’s all we have to do. Just make sure they get to where they were already supposed to go.”
“And then find the other painting?” Gavin said. “We’re not forgetting about that, are we?”
“No, I’m not forgetting about that.”
Chloe said, “Who has the other painting?”
“René, most likely,” Gavin said.
Ben pushed open the door to the subbasement. “And where’s René?”
“Still bleeding?” Chloe asked.
Gavin laughed. “Tenzin?”
“Every single time,” Ben said through gritted teeth.
Gavin and Chloe followed Ben as he strode down the hallways and toward the shipping department. If Tenzin had the paintings, she’d take them to the shipping room. All they had to do was make sure they weren’t intercepted.
“Should someone stay with Emilie?” Chloe asked. “What if she wakes up and gets away?”
Ben shrugged. “She doesn’t know where the painting is. René does.” He turned right and almost collided with Tenzin and a young man who was walking at her side. His hackles rose. “Who are you?”
The man’s eyes went wide. “A-Anthony. Who are you?”
“They’re from the restoration department.” Tenzin put her palm on the back of the man’s hand. “It’s fine.”
His eyes drifted to the side. “Oh. Right.”
“They are supposed to be here. They work here,” Tenzin said in a low voice.
“Right.”
“And you need to go help upstairs.”
He nodded, and without another look at Ben, Chloe, and Gavin, the museum employee walked past them and down the hall toward the elevators.
Chloe said, “That is creepy as hell.”
Tenzin smiled. “I know. What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” Ben said. “And the paintings.”
Chloe said, “It is really inconvenient that you all can’t use cell phones.”
“Tell me about it,” Ben muttered.
Tenzin said, “The paintings are on their way back to Rothman House. They were scheduled to go out tomorrow, but I convinced the driver to deliver them tonight.”
“Are you sure?” Ben asked. “Did you check the delivery address?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re sure?”
“The nice young man you scared away scanned something on the crates. And then the computer printed out a label. And on the label was the address of Rothman House. The driver took it and drove away. I’m not sure how much more sure I can be.”
Gavin said, “Should one of us go with the truck?”
Tenzin cocked her head. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
Ben and Gavin exchanged a look.
“I’ll find the truck and escort the two paintings back to the O’Briens,” Gavin said. “You three deal with your French friend.”
Chloe and Ben went back up to the sixth floor just in time to see René being escorted to the stairs by security.
René saw Ben and Chloe standing on the edge of the crowd, smiled, and said, “And yet I still have what I came for.”
One security guard shoved him in the back. “What did you come for, asshole? Pissing me off? Get your ass out of here.”
Ben debated whether to follow them or track down Emilie.
“Leave him for Tenzin.” Chloe tugged on his arm.
“Right.”
René narrowed his eyes as they walked away.
Ben ignored him. “Tenzin’s waiting for him outside.”
Chloe said, “Should we go… help?”
Ben smiled. “Help Tenzin?” In a city like New York, René was cut off from most of his elemental strength since he was an earth vampire. Tenzin would have no problem picking him up. “Nah,” Ben said. “She’ll be fine.”
They walked back to the hallway behind the special-exhibitions gallery where Gavin had left Emilie and the museum curator.
Dr. Walker was sleeping soundly.
Emilie was gone.
28
Tenzin dropped a kicking René on top of a landing she liked in Midtown. It was an office building on West 47th Street, and the only one who used the balcony on the fifteenth floor was an executive who smoked too much and left cigarette butts all over the tile. It was messy but deserted.
René DuPont looked suitably grim when she dropped him on the balcony. She’d picked him up a block from the museum trying to hail a yellow cab, an attractive human woman under his arm.
“It really is admirable how fast you work,” Tenzin said. “You were going back to her place after, what? Five minutes of conversation?”
“It’s my preferred method of lodging in Manhattan.” René stood and brushed off his suit. “Hotels are so anonymous.”
“But using random humans for food and lodging isn’t?”
“She would have had a marvelous time.” René smiled. “I always make sure of that. You should find out sometime.”
Tenzin perched on the edge of the railing. “Do you truly find me sexually attractive, or is it part of the game?”
“Of course I do. You’re quite beautiful, frighteningly intelligent, and immensely powerful. We both find you attractive. I’m simply willing to act on it and have the stamina to keep up with you.”
“It’s interesting that you think that.” She ignored the dig at Benjamin. For someone who purported to care nothing for a weak human beneath his notice, René noticed Ben an awful lot. He’d cooked up an elaborate scheme to have Ben steal a painting for him when it would have been far easier to steal it himself.
René walked over to her. “Are you saying you don’t find me sexually attractive?”
She cocked her head. “You’re not unattractive.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“You can keep talking.” She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “But I’m not going to forget about Midnight Labyrinth.”
“My lady,” René purred. “Oil paint. Canvas. These are worthless things, are they not?”
“Not to my Benjamin.”
He smiled. “Then he should have kept the painting instead of being taken in by my little trap.”
“We wondered if the woman worked for you or Ennis. I voted for Ennis. Ben voted for you.”
“The O’Brien doesn’t have enough imagination to train a girl like that. She works for me. My angel is quite good, isn’t she?”
“She’s not bad,” Tenzin said. “But you’re going to tell me where the painting is now.”
He pressed a hand o
ver his heart. “You wound me. Can you not accept that you lost this round?”
Tenzin leapt on him, knocking him to the ground and baring her fangs as she gripped his throat and dug her nails into the soft flesh. She held him down and ignored the evidence of his arousal.
“I don’t lose, René.” She drew a sharpened fingernail across his neck, cutting the skin and filling the night wind with the scent of his blood. “Ever. That’s why I’m still alive.”
René’s fangs fell and his lips flushed. “I’m not going to tell you where it is.”
“Then I’m going to throw you over the railing,” Tenzin said. “We’re at fifteen stories. You won’t die unless something happens to decapitate you on the way down. But you’ll break every bone in your body and become a smudge on a Midtown sidewalk. That will take a very, very long time to heal, assuming you manage to find shelter before the sun kills you.”
He grinned. “Would you change your mind if I told you I don’t have it anymore?”
“Did you give it to Ennis?”
René just kept smiling.
“No.” She stared at him. “You were waiting for the set. Were you hired to steal all of them or just the one?”
“I can’t tell you all my secrets,” he said. “I do have to consider my reputation for discretion. I was hired for a job, and I did it. This isn’t personal; this is business.”
“Of course it’s not personal. You have no loyalties.” Tenzin cocked her head. “Oh!”
“What?”
She smiled at René. “I know where it is.”
A flicker of doubt in his eyes. “You couldn’t possibly.”
“I do.” She picked him up by the shirtfront and flew over the edge of the balcony. “Of course, I’m going to have to get rid of you for a little while to make sure you don’t interfere. Just remember…” She kissed him long and full on the mouth. “It’s not business; it’s personal.”
René’s eyes went wide with shock a second before she dropped him.
Ben was back at the loft, banging away on his computer when he heard her land on the roof.
Chloe was on her phone, trying to connect with the delivery company or Gavin’s home system or anything that might let them know where the Scotsman was and if the remaining two Samson paintings had arrived safely at Rothman House.