by Janet Leigh
~
We followed Marco into the elevator and down to the garage, where most of the occupants of the apartment housed their vehicles.
“Oh, baby, I love your toys!” exclaimed Ace as he stood in front of a shining red Enzo Ferrari. Marco also had a black Ducati Desmosedici motorcycle in the next space. Caiyan and Brodie circled the machines like they were doing some kind of lust-filled tribal dance.
“I didn’t know these bikes came in black, yeah?” Caiyan asked as if experienced in the world of motorcycles. Meanwhile Brodie’s tongue practically hung out of his mouth as he ran his hand down the car.
“They don’t,” Marco answered proudly. “It was a gift from my mother. She had it custom painted for me.” They bobbed their heads in male bonding approval. Geesh, I felt like Jimmy Kimmel would be coming around the corner to hand out man cards any second.
“Guys, we need to get a move on. Wedding, remember?” I broke up the summit, and heads bobbed in agreement.
A long black limousine waited out in the street. Marco and Ace hopped in the Ferrari while Caiyan, Brodie, and I walked out of the garage and climbed into the limo. In all the excitement over the boy toys, Ace had accidentally pushed his microphone, and it was stuck in the on position, because we could hear everything Marco and Ace said. Apparently the device worked walkie-talkie fashion, because I tried to tell him he was stuck on, but he didn’t respond.
“How fast can she go?” Ace asked Marco.
“Oh, I’ve gone up to one hundred and sixty miles per hour on the highway, but she should max at two hundred and twenty-five mph, no problem.”
We heard the deep growl of the Ferrari’s engine as Marco revved the motor, making it come to life.
“It’s stuffy in here,” Ace said. “When was the last time you drove this thing?”
“Damn, Ace, you are so high maintenance. I drove it about a month ago; I usually ride the bike in the city. Here’s the air.”
We heard a click as Marco turned on the air, and Ace shrieked, “Not the air!”
Caiyan, Brodie, and I looked at each other.
Pretty soon Ace’s voice came over his transmitter: “Base, we have a problem.”
The limo circled the block, and we returned to the garage, where Marco and Ace were both standing outside the car yelling at each other.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as I ran toward them.
Marco shrugged. “How was I supposed to know the air was on high?”
I looked over at Ace. His once beautiful, luxurious eyelashes were now stuck individually all over his face. His blond wig was hanging haphazardly on his head, and he had broken a nail trying to fight the air vent.
“Bullocks,” Caiyan said, coming up behind me.
“No shit, man,” Brodie stated. “Should I call Agent McCoy and tell him we will be late?”
“We can’t be late. It’s a wedding!” I said. “How would it look if we sauntered down the aisle after the bride?”
“She’s right; it would attract too much attention. We need to arrive with the other guests,” Caiyan added.
“It will take at least an hour to redo my makeup,” said Ace.
“Let me change clothes with Ace. I’ll go in with Marco,” I said.
Three simultaneous nos sounded as one.
“It’s our only choice, mate,” Brodie said matter-of-factly. “We need more than one op on the inside. I don’t have a costume, and I’m not wearing that dress. I’m not telling our boss, because he will nix the whole plan, and I think we need to get in there tonight. The longer we wait, the more time they have to find Jen’s vessel and hurt Gertie.”
Ace and I returned upstairs to Marco’s apartment. Brodie, Caiyan, and Marco stayed downstairs to salivate over the motorcycle and probably talk about all the ways to keep me out of trouble. In ten minutes tops, I was in Ace’s dress, and he had added some blush and blue eye shadow to my makeup, put extra mascara on my eyelashes, and glued the fake mole to my cheek. The dress was longer on me but looked good enough. Everything fit except the shoes, and luckily I had purchased a pair of white Fendi strappy heels while we were out shopping. I thought Jake owed me a pair of shoes for not telling me about lateral travel. Besides, they matched the white cashmere coat I purchased perfectly. I mean, what’s a girl to do? It was cold outside.
We returned to the garage and headed out to the wedding.
We took the on-ramp to the Long Island Expressway. Apparently there was only one way out to the Mafusos’ mansion in the Hamptons. Marco and I followed the limo, leaving the famous city’s skyline behind us. When we reached a stretch of highway with lighter traffic, Marco zoomed past the limo and showed me how fast his car accelerated. I tuned out Caiyan growling objections in my earpiece.
Riding in the Ferrari was exhilarating. The powerful sound of the engine, the smell of the leather seats, and the smooth ride felt like we were going 40 miles per hour when we were actually doing 120 miles per hour.
“Wahoo!” I held my hands up in roller-coaster fashion as we came flying down a hill. Marco laughed at me and shook his head. We slowed down so as not to get too far ahead of the limo.
I had so many questions about my gift, and I knew Marco could answer some of them for me. I wasn’t sure how to approach him, knowing he was hesitant to talk about his gift. I decided just to dive in and see what happened.
“I never really knew my aint Elma.”
Silence.
“Um, why don’t you tell me what happened the night your grandfather died? Maybe it would clear up a few things for me.”
More silence. He kept his eyes on the road, and for a minute I thought he wasn’t going to answer.
“He came to my race in Monte Carlo. I thought he was coming just to watch me. My grandfather loved the Grand Prix races. He began racing as a very young man and never intended to build street cars.”
“I’m glad he changed his mind; this car is fabulous,” I said, running my hand over the soft-as-butter leather.
Marco nodded in agreement, then continued with his story. “After the test runs on the first day, he told me he needed my key. I told him no. I was using my vessel to race. He told me Elma had gone back and was in trouble. One of the other defenders, Caiyan, actually, had been on a mission. He came back in bad shape, three broken bones in his hand and arm. Broken leg. He also had a severe concussion and was in a drug-induced coma until the swelling around his brain was reduced.”
“Why was Caiyan with Elma?” I asked.
“After my grandfather retired, she became Caiyan’s transporter. He was new, and the WTF wanted someone with experience. You should have heard him bitch about how old she was, but I know that lady was tough as nails. My grandfather wanted her to retire, but she said there was no one, and her legacy would die when she did. Then she found you.”
I was fuming. Caiyan had known my aint Elma very well and never said a word. Rat-bastard-rat.
“You knew about me?”
“When it was discovered that I was a defender, my grandfather was so proud. He took me everywhere to teach me. One day we went to the white house in the country.”
“Aint Elma’s house.”
“Yes, I had just turned sixteen, and the WTF wasn’t ready to let me go on a mission yet. My grandfather wanted to introduce me to his transporter. She was like no one I had ever met. Strong but pretty in a Katharine Hepburn kind of way. I could tell by the way he looked at her, they were more than just friends. I heard Elma say it wouldn’t be long until you were of age, and then you could be my transporter.”
“But I’m Caiyan’s transporter. Is that because you are not traveling? Was I supposed to be with you all this time?”
“No. You are not meant to be my transporter. There is someone else.”
“Who?”
“It’s complicated. I can’t tell you, because she doesn’t know what she is, and I don’t want her involved in this mess.”
“She must be very special if you want to protect her, but don’t
you think she has the right to make her own decision?”
“No!” His response was abrupt, so I didn’t push for more information about his transporter.
Marco’s grip tightened on the steering wheel like he was trying to deal with conflicting emotions. I reached out and laid my hand on his shoulder. The warmth trickled into my fingertips. He relaxed and continued his story.
“My grandfather explained Caiyan couldn’t go back to save Elma. I was young and stupid. I hated her for having an affair with my grandfather. You see, my grandmother, Nonna, and I are very close. My parents were never around much. They were always off at some charity function or promoting the company. I was raised by my nonna. She is a kind woman but very stern. My grandparents were married in Rome before they came to America. Old school, old rules—you marry for life. At least that’s what Nonna always told me. I don’t know if she knew about Elma, but I had a feeling she knew there was someone else.”
“I’m sure that was difficult for her,” I said sympathetically.
“I finally caved in and gave him my key. My car was in the racing garage waiting for the race the following day. He transported right out of the garage. Do you know how dangerous it is to use your vessel in an enclosed space? I stepped out back for a smoke.”
“You smoke?”
“Only when I’m stressed out. What can I say, I’m Italian; my whole family smokes. Are you going to lecture me, or do you want me to finish my story?”
“Sorry, you just don’t look like a smoker.”
“Jen.”
“Sorry, go on.”
“It seemed like he was only gone about five minutes when the car returned under a big tree behind the garage… empty. A few minutes later, the outhouse appeared. Elma had my grandfather; he had been shot. I helped her lay him down on the ground. He opened his eyes and told me they had found it. Then he died in my arms.
“Elma was injured, but she immediately sent her vessel away. She removed the key from around my grandfather’s neck and told me to take my car back to the racing garage. I didn’t want to leave, but she said I must protect the gift. She took off her key and told me to make sure I gave it to you. In fact, she made me promise. I was so shaken up by my grandfather’s death, I did what she told me to do.
“After I returned my car, I went back to help, and they were both dead. Elma had been strangled. She rested against the tree with my grandfather’s head in her lap. From a distance it looked like two lovers relaxing under a tree together. I should have known someone was coming after them. Why else would she have taken off her key? I was stupid.”
I laid my hand over his hand resting on the gearshift. “You didn’t know. You were only eighteen years old, right?”
“I remembered there was the faint smell of garlic in the air. Someone had been there in the short time I was gone. It had to be a brigand. No one else could have been there so quickly.” He pounded his fist gently on the steering wheel.
“Garlic?” I asked.
“Yeah, the phosphorous emission from the vessel sorta smells like garlic.”
“What did your grandfather find?”
“I’m not sure, possibly the king’s vessel. But I never got a chance to find out. I summoned the WTF. They took the bodies. My grandfather’s body they took back to his office, made it look like a crime scene. I heard Elma’s was set up as an accident. After the police came, they interrogated everyone in my family. I hid my key and haven’t traveled since.”
“Wait, you sent me the key?”
“Yes, and the vessel. I thought it would be safe with you because you didn’t understand the gift. I never suspected you would figure it out on your own.”
“Is that why you came to Cousin Trish’s wedding?”
“It’s funny how life comes full circle. Uncle Vinnie met Trish at my grandfather’s funeral. He is buried in Anacapri, a city on the island of Capri in Italy. Trish was visiting Capri with a potential husband and met Vinnie at the hotel bar. He tells it to have been love at first sight. Neither Trish nor Vinnie knows about the gift or the WTF. I came to the wedding to meet you. I needed to see if you really had the gift. There is no record of it passing from outside a direct line.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone tells me.” I watched the lights disappear as we headed north, away from the city.
