The Devil's Due

by Monique Martin

  She turned to Simon and said, “I'm sorry.” When she turned back, she twisted the pen into her palm to grip it and spun back around. Her fist clutched the pen and she aimed for Roth's neck. The nib dug deep into the side of his throat.

  Benny's cry of pain was frozen by shock. His eyes flashed as he shoved her away and reached up to feel the pen sticking out of his neck. “You bitch.” He raised his gun hand and Elizabeth closed her eyes. I'll find you, Simon, she thought and waited to die.

  She heard the shot and then another. She flinched at the sound of each, but realized she hadn't been hit. But she didn't dare open her eyes. She couldn't bear to.

  “Elizabeth?”

  She let out a breath. Simon. Her legs wobbled beneath her in relief. She opened her eyes and turned to see Jack, gun drawn, walking up behind him. “You okay, kid?”

  “Jack! Thank God. I'm fine.” She rushed to Simon's side. “Are you all right?” Her eyes rapidly scanned him for any injury.

  “For God's sake, untie me.”

  Her fingers fumbled with the knots, glancing once quickly over to see Roth lying in a heap on the floor, red stains blossoming against his white shirt.

  Once she'd managed to release Simon from his bonds, he stood and pulled her into his arms. “What were you thinking?”

  “We gotta go,” Jack said as he stood over Benny Roth's body, gun trained on Thorn. “What about him?”

  Elizabeth heard a commotion coming from the other room. Roth's men would be there soon. She looked quickly at Thorn. He was as unfazed and as placid as ever. Devil or not, he was dangerous, but she couldn't murder anyone in cold blood. Not even him. “Leave him.”

  Jack looked like he might shoot Thorn anyway, but pointed them toward the back door where he'd snuck in. “Car's 'round back.”

  Jack hurried past Elizabeth as they made their way to the door. Elizabeth turned around just as they were at the exit and saw Thorn standing over Roth's body. Something drifted up in the air and Thorn caught it in his handkerchief. He folded it and put it into his pocket, turned to her and smiled.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Elizabeth really needed to practice running in high heels. Women in the movies always made it look so effortless. It wasn't. There was effort. Lots of it. Between the shoes and the long hem of her dress, she probably would have taken several headers if Simon hadn't been at her side.

  “Here,” Jack said as he skidded to a stop on the sidewalk next to a sporty looking convertible.

  “Where'd you get this?” Elizabeth asked. Jack definitely hadn’t had this car when they'd arrived.

  Simon struggled with opening the passenger side door for her and she shoved his hands away to try for herself. A gunshot pinged off a lamppost just a few feet away from them. Simon bent down and swept Elizabeth off her feet. He dropped her into the front seat and then leapt into the back. “Get this thing going!”

  Jack, who'd gotten behind the wheel, grumbled and shoved his head further under the dash. “I’m trying!” Another shot took out the tail light just as the car roared to life. He threw it in gear and the tires squealed as they sped off into the night.

  “Everybody okay?” Jack said once they'd gotten a few blocks away and it was clear they weren’t being followed.

  “Fine,” Elizabeth said catching her breath.

  “Where did you learn how to do that?” Simon asked her, reaching for his own neck.

  “Godfather Two,” she said. “Or was it Three? I think it was Three.”

  Simon just shook his head in response.

  “How did you find us?” Elizabeth asked Jack.

  He looked over at her briefly. “I got worried. Tonight's the big night and when you didn't call…I phoned Alan Grant's place—”

  In the panic of the last few minutes she'd nearly forgotten about him. “Is he all right?”

  “He was pretty well on his way to getting plastered,” Jack said. “But he was plenty worried about you. When you didn't show up after the movie…” Jack shook his head and let the rest of the thought fall away.

  “How did you know where we were?” Simon asked.

  “I didn't, but I figured Roth had something to do with it. So, I went around to his clubs. After he saw me at dinner with you, his wheels were turning. I shoulda figured it sooner.” He glanced at Elizabeth. “I'm sorry.”

  “You saved our bacon, again,” Elizabeth said as she touched his shoulder. “I don't think you have anything to be sorry for.”

  “Yeah,” Jack said, but he didn't sound convinced.

  “It's already after eleven o'clock,” Simon said, leaning forward. “We need to get to Grant's before midnight. Do you know where it is?”

  Jack nodded. “We're gonna be cutting it close.”

  “Will we make it?”

  “If we don't hit traffic.”

  They did.

  The Los Angeles of the past wasn't nearly as congested as the Los Angeles of the future, but it didn't take much to create a traffic jam, even late at night. They had to take a short detour and lost precious time, even though Jack drove like a man in a stolen car — which they were. When they pulled into Grant's driveway, it was ten minutes to midnight.

  “Grant?” Simon called out into the darkened foyer of the house.

  Elizabeth pointed to light coming from the hall where Alan's study was. They rushed toward it, but Jack edged into the lead, his gun drawn. He pushed open the door.

  Alan stood in front of his desk and turned around at the sound. “Who are—” he started until he saw Elizabeth step out from behind Jack. “Thank God. Are you all right?”

  Elizabeth slipped into the room past Jack. “We're fine.”

  Alan quirked an eyebrow at that, as he saw the blood on Simon's collar.

  “Mostly,” Elizabeth added. “Benny Roth—”

  “Was a fool,” a voice said.

  She knew who it was before she turned. Thorn sat casually in a reading chair on the far side of the room.

  Jack stepped forward, gun leveled at Thorn. “How'd he get here before us?”

  Thorn shrugged. “The traffic in this city is devilish, isn't it?”

  Had he just taken another route? Had he somehow caused the accident that delayed them? Everything about Thorn made Elizabeth's head spin. And he knew it and enjoyed every moment of discomfort.

  “That,” Thorn said, nodding toward Jack's gun, “won't solve your problem.”

  Jack took two steps forward. “One way to find out.”

  Elizabeth wasn't sure if Jack would have actually pulled the trigger or not, but she couldn't let him. “Don't.”

  Jack turned questioningly to Simon who glared at Thorn, but eventually shook his head. Jack looked back to Thorn. “I don't like people who hurt my friends. You do anything else to hurt them, anything,” Jack said, “and I will kill you.”

  “I would expect nothing else,” Thorn said not threatened in the least. In fact, Thorn lingered over Jack, his dark eyes taking measure. He must have liked what he found. He smiled and said, “We should talk later. I can help you with your…problem.”

  Jack took a step forward and only Elizabeth's hand on his arm stopped him.

  Thorn ignored the little display and checked his watch as he stood. “Well, it's just about time. That is, unless, someone here would like to make an offer.”

  “No,” Simon and Alan said in unison.

  Thorn smiled and shrugged.

  “There has to be something we can do,” Elizabeth said.

  The grandfather clock in the corner ticked loudly in the silence of the room, seeming to grow louder and louder with every passing second.

  “Perhaps doing nothing is the answer,” Simon said. “Roth, Ruby, they both died because they panicked. They were ultimately responsible for their own deaths.”

  Alan shook his head. “There have been others. I suppose you could explain them away as well, but the coincidence is simply too much. I don’t know how he does it,” he said looking at Thorn, “but I believ
e he does.”

  If Alan really felt that way, if he believed, true or not, it would be a self-fulfilling prophecy. Elizabeth could tell from the look in Simon's eyes that he'd come to the same conclusion. “There has to be something,” she said.

  “It's been a good run,” Alan said.

  “Don't talk like that.”

  Alan took Elizabeth's hand. “Would you…?” Alan asked her. “Make sure my affairs are in order. Perhaps I can do some of the good then that I failed to do before.”

  He didn't need to say her name, didn't dare say her name, but Elizabeth knew he was talking about Grace. “It won't come to that.”

  “Oh, Lucia.” Alan kissed her hand and his pale blue eyes glistened in the dim light.

  The clock's pendulum swung back and forth, each swing a step closer to the end. Elizabeth couldn’t stand the feeling of being so helpless. There had to be something she could do. She turned to Thorn. “Please? Release him.”

  “Just because you ask so nicely?” Thorn said scornfully. “No, I don't think so. We made a bargain and it's time he paid the price.”

  “You tricked him. It's not fair.”

  “He chose his path.” Thorn seemed to get a little taller, a little broader and a lot scarier. “And now it's come to an end.”

  “Wait,” Simon said, stepping forward. “The contract. We want to see the contract.”

  “As I said before.” Thorn's patience was starting to wear thin. “Only the parties to the contract may ask to see it.”

  “Damn it, man,” Simon bellowed at Alan. “Ask to see it!”

  Alan sighed. “What good can it do now?”

  Elizabeth grabbed Alan's arms. “Don't give up. You have something wonderful to live for. Fight!”

  Alan smiled ruefully, but he nodded. “May I see the contract?” he said, clearly thinking it was a useless exercise.

  Thorn frowned, but pulled the large folded papers from his jacket pocket and held them out. “You have five minutes.”

  Simon snatched the papers from his hand and unfolded them. He read the first page quickly and then the second. And then he read them again.

  “Anything?” Elizabeth asked coming to his side.

  Simon handed her the page and started to pace the length of the room. The clock ticked on.

  Elizabeth read the contract, but she couldn't see any loophole. There was no way out. The minute hand inched closer to midnight.

  Jack moved closer to Thorn, his gun ready and poised. Alan stood stock still, pulled between hope and despair.

  Abruptly, Simon stopped pacing and ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. “Eternity,” he said softly. “You said something about that earlier and it's been bothering me ever since,” Simon said to Thorn.

  He reached out to Elizabeth and she handed him back the contract. He read a passage aloud, “…and the soul will be consigned to the second party for all of eternity…Eternity.”

  Suddenly, Simon spun around toward Thorn. “You said these contracts were drawn to meet the standards of the laws of man.”

  Thorn nodded slowly.

  Simon held out the contract as he strode toward him. “The laws of man govern this?”

  “Yes.”

  Simon struggled to find the words. The clock ticked relentlessly behind him. He spun around and strode toward Alan. “That law book you were using before? Where is it?”

  Alan shook his head. “I don't know.”

  “Yes!” Elizabeth said, running to the bookshelves. “I remember seeing it when we were in here last time. He was working on his will. It's here. I know it's here.”

  Anxiously, she skimmed the shelves. Simon came to her side and they hurriedly traced the spines along the shelves. “There's a rule…what is it called? Perpetuity! The Rule Against Perpetuities. Eternity. That's a violation. I knew there was something about that part of it. It's been eating away at me ever since he said it.”

  Thorn's face was impassive.

  “It's common law,” Simon said as he and Elizabeth frantically searched the shelves.

  Thorn was not convinced. “I need more than your word, I'm afraid.”

  The clock on the wall kept ticking.

  “Here!” Elizabeth cried as she pulled a heavy volume off the shelf and handed it to Simon.

  Simon handed her the contract and flipped through the pages of Black's Law Dictionary so quickly they nearly tore. “You can't require a contract with a duration of eternity. It invalidates the contract,” he said as he tried to find the right section.

  “This!” he said triumphantly and then read, “Common-law rule prohibiting a grant of an estate unless the interest must vest, if at all, no later than 21 years (plus a period of gestation to cover a posthumous birth) after the death of some person alive when the interest was created.”

  Thorn shook his head. The grandfather clock began to chime. “That is estate law, property, valuables.”

  Elizabeth's heart raced well ahead of the clock. “You said it though. You said 'a man has nothing of more value than his soul.'“

  The clock continued to chime.

  Thorn's confidence slipped. “Yes.”

  Another chime. And another.

  “You can't have a man's soul or anything else for eternity. This contract,” Simon said with a hell of a lot more confidence then she felt. He took the contract from Elizabeth's hand and tossed it onto the desk and the papers fluttered down to the surface, “is void.”

  Thorn stared down at it and then looked first to Simon and then Elizabeth with eyes so flat and so chilling she literally felt her blood go cold. “It appears so,” he said.

  The clock struck its final chimes. Midnight. And then silence. The moment stretched out until Alan let out a breath.

  “I'm free? Good heavens,” Alan said then smiled his apology at Thorn. “Sorry, poor choice of words.”

  Thorn was not amused. He looked at Simon and inclined his head in a deferential nod. He picked up the contract and tore the papers in half before tossing them back onto the desk. “Very well played.”

  Thorn started toward the door. Jack stepped forward, his gun still out, but Elizabeth put a stilling hand on his arm.

  Thorn stopped when he reached the doorway and turned back. “Until we meet again,” he said in a way that would stay with both of them for years to come, “Mr. and Mrs. Cross.”

  Thorn glared at Simon in some sort of final challenge.

  “Good bye, Mr. Thorn,” Elizabeth said and then turned her back on him. Alan took Elizabeth's hand; his was shaking even more than hers. Simon pulled her to his side and when she turned back to the door Thorn was already gone.

  Alan squeezed her hand and she turned back to him. She didn't know what to say and pulled him into a hug. His arms held her close and she could feel his racing heart.

  “Well done,” he said, “well done.” Alan released her and shook Simon's hand. “How did you know?”

  Elizabeth had wondered that herself. “Some estate thing in England?”

  Simon blushed slightly and rubbed his chin. “I saw it in a movie.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The small group hadn't wanted to leave each other, but fatigue finally won out. Jack drove Simon and Elizabeth back to their hotel with a promise to meet them at his apartment the following afternoon. They'd done what they'd set out to do - saved Alan Grant. It was time to go home.

  They'd left Grant in Peter's care, shaken, but alive. He wasn't the only one, Simon thought as he toweled off from his shower. His tête-à-tête with Roth's men had left him bruised and sore, but it was the experience with Roth himself that had left him shaken.

  Simon pulled on his pajama bottoms and tied them loosely. They hung low on his hips and he saw the beginnings of what would be an unsightly bruise just above his hipbone. Well, it could have been worse, he thought. Much, much worse.

  He ran the towel over his chest once more, tossed it onto the bathroom counter and shut the light. Elizabeth was already in
bed. Rolling up the far-too-long sleeves of their shared pajamas top, she sat propped up against the headrest. The smile on her face as she looked at him as he came into the room faded. Her eyes sought out the marks on his ribs and shoulder.

  “Those look painful,” she said.

  “They are,” Simon confessed as he turned off his bedside lamp and slid into bed with her.

  Elizabeth frowned and eased the sheet down to his waist. She leaned over to examine his injuries. Her delicate touch along his skin made his breath catch.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” Simon said, but he stilled her hands anyway. “The bruises will heal. But…” He let out a breath and looked at her hand so small in his. “Losing you? Never.”

  Despite the discomfort, he propped himself up on his elbow to face her. “You must promise me,” he said, “never to do that again.” He felt an echo of the surge of blind panic he'd felt when she'd agreed to give her soul for his life. “Never.”

  Elizabeth touched the edge of his jaw and shook her head. “You haven't cornered the market on loving someone, Simon.”

  “Elizabeth—-”

  “I would do it again. You mean everything to me too, you know.”

  He frowned at that. She leaned back into her pillow and turned her head to smile at him triumphantly, clearly thinking she'd put an end to it.

  “If that's the case,” he said sweeping her hair away from her neck so he could touch the bare skin, “then my wishes should preclude your own. And I want you alive.”

  She scrunched up her face in that adorable way she did when she was winding up and getting ready to unleash a wave of Elizabeth logic. “That's not fair.”

  “Isn't it?” Simon said. “You love me more than anything—”

  “But you love me more than anything too,” she parried. “Don't you?”

  Simon chuckled and caressed her cheek. “You know I do.” His hand drifted down her cheek and over her shoulder.

  “Then it seems we've reached an impasse,” she said firmly. “There's only one thing to do.”