by S. E. Smith
Rune pushed her long hair back behind her ear and smiled nervously up at the officer who often came by to see the children. Sister Mary and Sister Helen liked to hint that he really came by to see Rune, but Rune refused to rise to their baiting. She knew better than to encourage the young officer to believe there could ever be more than friendship between them.
“I was just on my way back to the orphanage,” Rune replied, glancing behind her. She turned back with a smile and touched Officer Myers arm. “Would you be so kind as to escort me? I know the children would love to see you.”
Olson grinned down at Rune, his thin mustache curving upwards. “I would be honored, Miss August. How are you doing on this fine evening? Did you sell all of your lovely flowers today?”
Rune mumbled an answer. She knew that they were being followed as they walked slowly back to the orphanage. She fought the urge to just turn and yell at the man to tell Randolph to leave her and the Sisters alone. She didn’t, though. Walter Randolph might be a slimy weasel, but he was a very wealthy and powerful one.
It took almost an hour before Rune was able to peel herself away from the friendly officer once they reached the orphanage. Sister Helen had to offer him a cup of tea. Sister Mary had to give him a piece of cake. Mother Magdalene asked him how his day was and if he was courting anyone.
Rune had rolled her eyes at that obvious attempt to feel out his intentions. She had finally taken pity on the poor, blushing man and exclaimed that it was time to get the children ready for their nightly bedtime ritual. She grimaced as the Sisters all stood up and looked expectantly at her.
“Let me get your hat for you,” Rune grunted out.
Rune led Olson out of the sitting room and into the small foyer. The soft giggles coming from the stairwell had her raising her eyes in warning to the line of children looking down at them. She winked at two of the youngest ones, pulling more muffled giggles from her audience.
“Yes, well, it was very nice of you to have me for tea and refreshments,” Olson said, nervously rotating his hat in his hands. “I was wondering if perhaps, after church this Sunday…”
“I don’t attend church, Mr. Myers,” Rune said shortly.
“You don’t… but you live…,” Olson said, confused as he looked around at the home filled with religious artifacts.
“No, I don’t, and yes, I do,” Rune said firmly as she opened the door. “I hope you have a very pleasant evening. Please be careful of the last step. It has a slight dip in the center and can be slippery.”
Rune stood in the door as Olson gave his stammered goodbyes. She knew she had taken him by surprise with her comment, but she didn’t care. She didn’t answer to anyone… not anymore. She had made her decision long ago and she accepted the consequences. She didn’t feel like she had to explain or answer to anyone why she felt the way she did. They would never understand anyway.
How did you explain that you had lived and died a hundred times to someone who believed that you went to heaven or hell after you died? she thought as she watched him hurry down the road.
Her eyes narrowed on a dark shadow across the street. The figure stepped out into the dim light of the lamp post. The scarred face of the man who had followed her earlier stared back at her.
Rune lifted her chin and gave the man a cold smile. She had met men like him many times before. She had fought with a man just like him the first time she had died. She had sworn as she lay dying on the cold, muddy ground centuries before that she would never bow to a tyrant.
She closed the door and leaned back against it. Her eyes went to the single pair of eyes staring down in silence at her. Eyes so much like… Rune forced her mind to close on the distant memory that haunted her still. She smiled and walked over to the stairs leading to the children’s dorm. She didn’t say a word as she held out her hand to the small boy who stood up as she approached. Together, they walked in silence down the long corridor.
“The local lawman left just a few minutes ago,” the scar-faced man said as he spit on the pitted dirt road next to the carriage that pulled up next to him. “I wasn’t sure he was ever going to leave.”
“And the young woman?” the dark figure sitting in the back of the carriage asked. “She is still inside?”
“Yes. She looked right at me,” the man replied, shifting from one foot to the other in unease. “She didn’t look like she was scared either.”
A chilling silence met his response. “Did you get the items I asked for?” the man in the carriage finally asked.
“Yes,” the man replied. “But I don’t feel good about burning down a holy place. I can kill a man or that young woman if you want, but burning down some Sisters and a bunch of kids just don’t sit right with me.”
Walter Randolph sat forward in the carriage just enough for the man to see the cold brutality glittering in his eyes. He didn’t care how the man felt. It wouldn’t matter. Sam Weston was nothing more than a cutthroat he had hired down at the docks. His body would be found in the burnt remains of the building. Weston would be blamed for an arson gone wrong.
Randolph only needed the man to gather the items that were to be used and to be there. He would kill him after Weston and he used those items to set fire to the orphanage. But first… first he had a certain female that he wanted removed. Rune August had been a thorn in his side for the last two years. She had petitioned the mayor and several wealthy philanthropists to support the orphanage. His arguments that the property was too valuable to be wasted on a bunch of indigent children had fallen on deaf ears. He soon discovered that the more vocal he became, the cooler his reception among his peers had become, thanks to her interference.
He had come to the conclusion that he needed to take care of the situation himself. Time after time, his meetings with the stubborn but beautiful Miss August had led to nothing but frustration, both physically and financially. She had rebuffed his attentions just as she had refused to take his money.
“You are not being paid to feel things, Mr. Weston,” Randolph said coolly. “Have the items in the back alley behind the orphanage after midnight. I want to personally oversee this… task.”
“Yes, Mr. Randolph,” Sam muttered before he stepped back. “I’ll be there.”
“You’d better be, Mr. Weston,” Randolph said before he tapped on the roof of the carriage. “You’d better be.”
Randolph looked out the window of the carriage as it pulled away from the curb. His eyes rose to the figure silhouetted in the upper window. A cruel smile formed as he saw the figure disappear as the light inside was blown out. Tonight he would not only make the property available for his future plans, but he would have the beautiful Miss August under his control.
“Rune, where are you going?” Timmy asked.
Rune turned and pulled her dressing gown closed. Timmy had come to the orphanage a couple of months before. He was a soft-spoken boy of eight whose eyes held too much sorrow. His father had died when he was just a babe and his mother of tuberculosis two months ago.
“You should be asleep,” Rune whispered sternly. “What are you doing up?”
Timmy looked down at his hands and didn’t reply at first. Rune sighed and knelt down in front of him. She gently tilted his trembling chin up so he could see she wasn’t mad.
“How about some warm milk and a small piece of cake?” she asked softly. “It always helps me when I have a sad dream.”
Timmy looked into her eyes with a serious expression. “Do you have sad dreams too?” he asked, raising his hand to touch her cheek as she nodded. “I dreamed about my mom. She was coughing again and couldn’t stop.”
“It is hard when someone we love dies,” Rune said sadly. “Just remember, as long as you keep them in your heart, they are never really gone.”
“Do you keep your family in your heart?” Timmy asked innocently.
Rune schooled her face not to show the pain she still felt at times. She often wondered if anything would ever heal the grief she kept locked aw
ay deep inside her. Being around the children and watching them grow helped.
“Yes, Timmy,” Rune replied as she stood up. “I keep them locked inside my heart so I never forget them. Come on. Let’s go see if Mother Magdalene saved us any of Sister Mary’s pound cake. You know she loves it.”
Timmy giggled and slipped his hand into Rune’s. They snuck down the stairs and through the corridor. Rune decided to cut through the garden. She loved going into the garden on a clear night.
Timmy giggled again when Rune teased him about being quiet as a mouse. She was about to remark that maybe they should be stealing some bread and cheese when a movement on the other side of the garden caught her attention. There was a flash and brilliant orange flames flared up, silhouetting a form that Rune was only too familiar with along with the scarred face of the man who had been watching her earlier.
“Timmy, wake the others,” Rune said, pushing the boy behind her. “Run! Tell them fire! Wake the others now!”
Timmy’s eyes were huge as he briefly looked over his shoulder at the two men. One stared back at them in surprise while the other glared at them in fury. He stumbled as he turned, his hand searching desperately for the handle to the door.
“Get him!” The man with the furious expression ordered. “Don’t let him alert the others.”
“Run, Timmy,” Rune ordered as she moved to stand in front of the door. “Save them, Timmy. It is up to you now.”
Rune knew deep down that her time here had come to an end. She never understood how she knew, she just did. Fury built deep inside her as the pain of losing her new family swept through her. She had sworn that she would protect the children and the Sisters with every fiber of her being, and she would do so.
She heard the door slam behind her as Timmy finally raced inside. She could hear his frightened voice rising as he ran back to the dorms and the rooms belonging to the Sisters and Mother Magdalene. She ignored it as the scar-faced man ran toward her.
Hoping to surprise him, she raced forward and grabbed his arm. She let her slender weight hit him head-on. He grunted and stumbled sideways when she refused to let go of his arm.
“Get the boy!” Randolph growled out harshly as he wrapped his arm around Rune’s waist and ripped her away from the scar-faced man. “Kill him.”
“No!” Rune screamed.
Fury unlike anything she had ever felt swept through her. She slammed her head back into Randolph’s face, breaking his nose from the sound of the crunch. She turned as his arm fell away from around her and swung her fist.
“You bitch!” Randolph snarled out as he slapped Rune across the face, knocking her down. “You’ve ruined everything.”
Flames were crawling up the wall behind them as the wooden frame of the kitchen area caught. Rune’s eyes moved from the flames back to the man standing over her. She waited until he bent to grab her again before she threw the dirt that she had gathered in her hand into his eyes.
Randolph cursed loudly and stumbled backwards. Rune’s eyes narrowed in determination when she realized he was in front of the burning door. Pushing up off the ground, she charged him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pushing him through the flames. They both landed on the floor of the kitchen as the door gave way. Randolph lost his balance and fell on his back with Rune on top of him.
Rune gasped as he rolled so that she was trapped under him. She barely had time to raise her hands to protect her face when he raised his hand to strike her again. He cursed in frustration and rolled off her, coughing as the smoke thickened the air.
Rune rolled away from him and crawled onto her hands and knees. She looked at him with watery eyes. Flames were beginning to roll along the ceiling of the kitchen now and the wall where the door leading to the garden was engulfed. She pulled herself up using the table. Seeing the knife that they had used earlier to cut the pound cake, she reached out and wrapped her fingers around it.
“You stupid bitch,” Randolph cursed as he wrapped his fingers around the wrist holding the knife. “You could have had everything money could buy.”
Rune jerked, trying to break his grip. She cried out when he squeezed hard enough to almost break the delicate bones in her wrist. He reached over and grabbed the knife in his free hand.
“Money could never buy my loyalty or make me care about a self-centered bastard like you,” Rune choked out as sweat from the heat of the fire threatened to scorch her skin. “You are through,” she whispered. “Not even your money can save you from this.”
Rune could hear the bells of alarm and the yells of voices as people gathered to form a water bucket brigade. She could hear the sharp whistle of a policeman and the bells on the team of horses pulling the water wagon. A large beam cracked and fell behind Randolph. Rune reacted the moment his attention was distracted. She pushed as hard as she could against him. Pain exploded through her even as she watched as he lost his balance and fell back onto the burning beam. A second beam collapsed, trapping him between the two.
His screams followed Rune as she turned back toward the empty space where the door leading to the garden now stood. She walked forward, ignoring the flames. They could do nothing to her. She was already dead. She could feel the blood draining from her even as the pain from the knife that Randolph had stuck into her as he fell threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to reach the garden. The garden that she loved. The garden with the flowers that she grew to sell for the children. The garden where their laughter echoed.
Rune fell to her knees near the center. Mother Magdalene, who was standing in the doorway leading into the dorm area, rushed forward. She gently helped Rune down before rolling her over onto her back. Rune stared up into the night sky as the familiar peacefulness of death swept through her. The stars glittered despite the thick smoke and the red haze of the flames.
“Please,” Rune whispered, looking blindly up at the stars. “Please, let me stay this time. Let me watch over and protect them. Please don’t take me away again. I’m so tired of wandering. Please…” her voice broke.
“Oh, child,” Mother Magdalene whispered as she brushed Rune’s sweat dampened hair back from her face. “What have you done?”
Rune turned her face into the withered hand and sighed. “I promised to protect you,” Rune whispered with a serene smile. “Don’t cry for me, Mother Magdalene. I’ll be alright. I won’t… leave you… or the… children,” she forced out softly before she faded away.
Tears coursed down Mother Magdalene’s cheeks. She touched the still face of the young girl who had appeared out of nowhere and captured the hearts of everyone she touched. She brushed the damp hair back, holding Rune tightly for a moment. She gently closed Rune’s eyes with trembling fingers.
“Mother Magdalene!” Sister Mary whispered in shock as she rushed up to where Mother Magdalene was holding Rune’s lifeless body. “Oh no! Oh, poor child,” she cried as she bowed her head to pray.
Mother Magdalene looked up at the stars and whispered her own prayer. She prayed that Rune would finally find the peace and happiness that she deserved. Her only regret was that she had never learned what put the shadows in the young girl’s beautiful brown eyes.
“Please help her find happiness,” Mother Magdalene prayed. “Please give her a second chance to find someone who will love her enough to chase the shadows from her eyes.”
Chapter 3
Present Day New York City
“You know it helps if you tell me when you plan to deviate from your plans before you do, don’t you?” Dimitri Mihailov told the man sitting across from him in exasperation. “As head of your security, I need to know this so I can plan accordingly.”
Sergei Vasiliev didn’t look up from the tablet he held in his hand. His brow was creased and the scar that ran from the corner of his left eye across his cheek pulled as his lips tightened in displeasure.
Dimitri sighed and waited. He had known Sergei long enough to recognize when his friend was upset. They had grown up together on the streets
of Moscow. Dimitri had been the brawn during that time while Sergei had been the brains.
A lot of things had changed since their youth. Their combination of brute force and brains had worked in their favor. Both of the men’s assets were in the billions, though few realized that Dimitri was the second part of the Vasiliev-Mihailov dynasty. He kept a lower profile which allowed him to move unnoticed behind the scenes. A fact that had helped in their acquisitions over the years. Neither one of them would ever forget the poverty of their youth. It was a distant shadow to them now, but the scars left behind were a powerful reminder.
Time had changed them both. Sergei was no longer a scrawny boy. The tight fit of the black cashmere sweater he wore emphasized the thick muscles under it. He had filled out as he grew older until he was almost as powerful as Dimitri. A long scar marred the left side of Sergei’s face, a constant reminder that even having wealth did not guarantee safety. Guilt pulled at Dimitri. He had almost been too late to save the one man he knew trusted him.
“Knock it off, Dimitri,” Sergei growled out in Russian. “I can feel your guilt radiating off you. For the last time, it was not your fault.”
“I should have increased the security around you,” Dimitri grunted out. “I knew there was a threat. I should have done more.”
“I knew there was a threat as well,” Sergei said with a deep sigh. He turned off the tablet and looked at Dimitri’s face that was partially hidden in the shadows as he sat back against the limousine’s rich leather. “You warned me. I was the one who chose to ignore the warning. Do not blame yourself for my own stupidity, Dimitri.”
Dimitri snorted. The thought that anyone, including Sergei, could ever use the word stupid and his friend’s name in the same sentence was ludicrous. Sergei was constantly referred to as one of the smartest men in the world in the major business magazines.
Dimitri gazed out the window at all the holiday decorations and the crowd of pedestrians bundled up against the chill in the air outside. He didn’t say any more on the topic. It was an old argument that neither one of them won. Dimitri continued to feel guilty and Sergei became more cynical about the world.
