by Allie Burton
Math raised an eyebrow in question at Piper. Again?
She shook her head once. His hand followed along because it still lay against her moist mouth.
“It must’ve been my phone. I didn’t feel the text come in the first time.” The member near them called out. His feet shuffled away.
“You know cellphones aren’t allowed in the Convergence Ceremonial Room,” the other member reprimanded.
Math’s shoulders sagged, and air whooshed out of his mouth. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand off Piper’s lips. That had been close. He would’ve enjoyed a test of his strength against the two Order members to show his brothers he had the ability to fight, but he didn’t want to put Piper at risk. She didn’t understand the complexities and the danger and the importance of their quest.
His thoughts struck him like a Warrior’s fists. Pain radiated from his brain into his lungs, causing him to choke. He’d let his protective instincts override his fighting instincts. At the coffee shop he’d let a couple of secret facts slip. He was a brain and a trained fighter. He could examine an object and basically see in his mind how something was constructed. He had super strength and agility, although untested. He had healing powers in case a battle didn’t go his way. But being with Piper confused and messed up his thinking.
He stomped on his conscience. Fisting his hands, he wanted to charge into the room and take the two men on to prove he was a fighter. To prove he was tough. To prove to Piper, he was a Warrior. He let out a slow breath. He couldn’t let her mess with his plan, his mind, or his emotions.
Chapter Eight
Piper
The muscles on Math’s face were tight as if clenching his jaw. His narrowed eyes flashed with determination. His chin jutted out. His stern expression would insult if I thought he was thinking about me. But he must be thinking about those men and the Order.
“What’re you thinking?”
His tension held for a few more seconds and then released. “The Order doesn’t have the trumpet. Let’s get out of the museum.”
Since pretending to break into the museum, my nervous system finally uncoiled and loosened. I was tired of the pretense. I wanted out and I wanted to confront Aaron about his lies.
I pivoted toward the passage, making sure Math stayed behind me. I didn’t know what had been going through his head a minute ago. He’d resembled an attack dog, ready to take on anything or anyone, no matter what the odds. And he hadn’t answered my question.
After traveling through the passage, we came out at the exact same spot. “Since you know the Order doesn’t have the trumpet, what will we do next?”
“I’m still thinking.” He rubbed the dark spot on his neck. Something about the patch was familiar. “In your video, the tattoos on the thieves’ necks must be fake or they’re former members who didn’t remove the tattoos.”
I stared at his neck. His dark patch was in the exact same spot. “Could be.” Looking away so as not to give away my thoughts, I glanced down and finally read the text message, which was from Aaron.
Where the hell are you?
Satisfaction oozed through my bloodstream and a slight smile slipped on my face. Even with his machinations, we’d managed to give him the slip. He expected me to obey every single command. Up until this point, I had.
Not anymore.
Math had taught me things I didn’t know about the Order, or was he lying too? I couldn’t trust anyone. I had to use and manipulate like Aaron. The big question was, would he allow me to continue to work with Math?
“Anything important?”
His sympathy mellowed my thinking, but not enough to be honest. Who was I kidding? Everything mellowed and melted around him. But I had to stay true to my own cause now. Using him and Aaron to get what I wanted.
“No.” I’d keep my own counsel. I wouldn’t tell him about Mom’s illness and the desperation driving me to do what Aaron asked.
Once out of the tunnel, Math wove through the darkened museum. Without incident, we passed through the exhibits of the fishing boat and carriage, past jewelry and pottery, and through the large wooden doors. We skirted around the edge of the foyer and hit the back stairs at a jog.
He seemed as much in a hurry as I to get out of the museum. He didn’t realize the risks were higher getting out than getting in. Aaron didn’t want us leaving, didn’t want us finding the trumpet. And he was pissed off because he didn’t know exactly where we were inside. If we got caught, we’d both suffer.
I’d almost sacrificed myself in the anteroom, willing to stay with Math so if we got caught, I could help him. I might get punished, but Math would get dead.
Which shouldn’t be my main concern. My main concern was Mom. Doing whatever I needed to save her. Being with Math, seeing his protectiveness and concern for me, was tinkering with my brain.
Jogging down the hall in the opposite direction of the cafeteria, I slowed when we approached the security room. Lights were on, which meant a guard was present.
I felt as if a spotlight shone on me, highlighting my latest deception. By now, Aaron probably had the guards searching for us. The chance of getting out without getting caught became slimmer. My midsection churned. None of the outcomes would be good.
The security room was situated right next to the entrance to the museum storage area, which led to the loading dock and our way out. Or so I’d hoped. A long window lined the entire wall of the security room until it ended at the door. An open door. We couldn’t run past.
“Wait.” I tugged on Math’s sleeve and squatted down. “There’s a guard in there.”
He got on his knees. Peeking over the waist-high window, his expression grew dark. “Pointed pyramids!”
“What?”
“Um, gosh darn?” He appeared so cute and unsure with a half-smile on his mouth and quirked chin. Maybe he truly was from another time period.
I didn’t know what to think. The mind was powerful and could make people imagine all sorts of things. Brainwashing, like what I believed happened to my mom, was another possibility.
“Security probably found the door you kicked open.” The worry choked, and I wheezed. The most loyal knew about the door the second it was breached. Either Aaron hadn’t been able to hold the other security guards off any longer, or he now wanted us found.
I’d bet on the latter. The alarm churning in my stomach started to twist and burn.
“Why aren’t security sirens going off?” Math slid to the ground. His brow furrowed, and his gaze darted around. “I’ll have to figure out how to get out.”
I peeked over the window ledge again into the security room. I’d been in the room many times to help fix their equipment. A bank of screens showed images from around the museum. Computers and security equipment filled the rest of the space.
A printout of a photo caught my eye. Grainy, black and white. The guards never put up personal pictures. The photo had been printed on cheap paper. The long, black case drew my attention. An odd shape for an instrument case.
Too long. Too old. Too familiar.
I gasped. “What’s that?”
Math scrambled to his knees and peeked into the security room. “What?”
“There’s a printout of a photo—”
“We don’t have time to play researcher about the Order.” His put-down made me feel lower than low. The Warrior might think he knew everything there was to know, but I could contribute. He slid down to his butt with his back to the wall. “Our only escape is blocked.”
“It’s a photo of the trumpet.” Following his action, I slid beside him wanting to prove I wasn’t a complete idiot. “I can’t see the entire photo clearly, but I recognize the case from Uncle Louie’s office.”
“You’re sure?” Math’s tone rose higher. He peeked and ducked back down again. “How are we going to get a good look at the photo? Right now, it’s our best clue to finding the instrument.”
My beating heart pounded in a hard rhythm, a purposeful rhythm, a determi
ned rhythm. If Aaron had a recent photo, then he had an idea where the trumpet might be. Did I wait and try to get the information from him, or did I steal the information myself?
No question really. I needed to get the photo. There had to be something in the background, a hint of where it was located. The photo had to be recent because the trumpet had been in the country only a few days. “What if we blocked a security camera?”
“What good would that do?” Math shot me a curious expression, not ridiculing my suggestion but not supporting it, either.
I had to explain why this was a good idea. An idea to prove to him I was an equal partner because I didn’t want him dumping me after tonight. He was my best chance of finding the trumpet.
“A distraction. Guards are paranoid when a camera isn’t working.” This I knew because a while back someone had spray painted several camera lenses black and the guards had thrown a fit.
“I could smash a camera with a tool.” He opened his bag.
“No. We don’t want to be destructive. We don’t want them sounding the alarms. We only need to distract this one guard so I can get inside and snatch the photo. It may have clues to where the trumpet is located.”
He used the black sleeve of his T-shirt to wipe his forehead. “How?”
“What if you cover a camera with your shirt? A camera close by and in the opposite direction.” I pointed at a camera close to the storage-room door that swiveled between the hallway, the door, and inside the storage room when the door was open. “The guard will leave the security room and go that way.” Away from me. “I’ll sneak in and get the photo.”
“Okay.” Math jerked his head in a determined nod. “Great idea.”
I glowed with his compliment, even knowing I’d used insider info. I knew why the guards were paranoid about the cameras. One of the Warriors had broken into the museum, searching for a university professor. And I knew where all the cameras were positioned because I could sense them.
“Hide around the corner. If the guard scans this direction, he won’t see you.” His concern made my trickery stick in my throat. “Ready?”
Math would make a good partner if we weren’t working at cross purposes. He’d listen to suggestions and ideas. He’d do his share. But we were working together only temporarily, each of our end goals different.
“Ready.” I scooted backward around the corner of the security room. Picking my spot, I peered at him.
He crawled under the security room’s window so he wouldn’t be seen. Then, he peeked around the door and waited until the guard must’ve turned in the other direction.
I held my breath, watching and praying.
Math slid across the concrete floor, past the open doorway, at what appeared to be warp speed. I squeezed my eyes tight for a second. I must be tired because he couldn’t have moved that fast. He swung behind a box waiting to be unpacked and stood underneath the camera. He tugged on the hem of his long-sleeved black T-shirt and pulled the fabric over his head.
My eyes dropped back, and my mouth dropped open. My heart, which had been racing with worry, now purred with desire. I licked my lips. His trim waist led to sculpted, six-pack abs. His chest had a light smattering of hair. And his broad shoulders flared, highlighting the strength he’d had hidden under the bulky shirt. My skin fired and my breath shallowed. I wanted to see more, be closer, touch him.
I squeezed my fingers closed. I’d never had thoughts like that about a guy. I’d never seen a half-naked guy. Not even on television.
He took the shirt and draped it over the camera lens. He caught my gaze and winked. He hid behind a mummy being stored against the wall.
The wink jerked me back to reality. This wasn’t a body-building competition. We were on a quest. Math had done his part and it was time for me to do mine.
The guard mumbled and slammed something down. The chair he sat on swirled around on the ground, grinding into the concrete. I heard a few more oaths.
“It’s that camera right there,” the guard mumbled. His chair squeaked with the loss of the man’s weight. He lumbered out the door and went straight toward the blocked camera, holding his walkie-talkie close to his mouth.
I rubbed my sweaty hands together and got to my feet. With shaky legs, I dashed into the security room, aware of the infinite possibility of being caught. Aware of my tummy twisting and my fear ratcheting up.
My feet slid on the concrete. Not taking time to glance at the banks of screens with flickering images from around the museum, I yanked the photo from the bulletin board and tiptoed out of the security room. My mission had taken only seconds, and yet had seemed a lifetime.
Exiting, I saw the guard jump and grab the shirt from the camera. He scrutinized the garment and started to swing back toward the security room.
Toward me.
My insides froze and my heart pattered. My legs kept working. I dashed around the corner to where I’d been hiding.
I heard the guard hurry into the security room.
Sinking to the ground, I hugged my knees and slowed my heartrate. The guard hadn’t seen me. My perspiration chilled on my skin and I shivered.
Math slid back and hugged me, chasing the chills away, not the fear.
“You got it!” he whisper-yelled.
I wanted to celebrate, to hug him longer, but we weren’t out of the museum yet.
A radio cackled from the security room. “I need backup.”
Uh oh. My pulse picked up speed again racing against my thoughts. We couldn’t leave the way we’d come through the broken door. The guard would see us. Security must be on high alert. I didn’t want Aaron to discover us because I planned to stay with Math until we found the trumpet. I wouldn’t be asking for permission.
“This way.” Shoving the photo into my waistband, I grabbed his hand and we ran down the hall. Pushing open the metal bar to the stairs, I paused.
Heavy footsteps pounded down the stairs. Multiple footsteps. The footsteps weren’t as loud as my heart punching in my chest, bouncing back and forth off my ribcage.
Math’s wide glance swiveled searching for an exit. We couldn’t go back toward the security room and we couldn’t go up the stairs.
“Come on.” I tugged him toward the cafeteria and halted at the door.
Neatly lined tables and chairs filled the room. The counter where the food was prepared was locked up behind metal bars like a prison. There were no windows in this part of the museum.
“Where’s the escape? Is there a back door?” He ran toward the bars, gripped the metal, and rattled them.
My shoulders slumped with defeat. “Behind those locked bars.” I’d thought we could use the kitchen’s back door. I didn’t realize the bars came down at night. There was no escape for us in this direction.
He gave me an odd look, probably wondering how I knew such things.
Stupid, stupid. I couldn’t let him question my motives. I still questioned my motives.
“I think.” I grabbed the edge of a table and pushed it below a large skylight in the ceiling. “We’re going to have to stack tables—”
“Promise you won’t scream.” Before I could ask what he was talking about, he was at my side.
My head must be fuzzy. I hadn’t seen him move.
“Scream about what?” The only screaming I planned to do was if Aaron forced me to stay in the museum.
Math’s lips quirked into an awkward smile. His cheeks lit up stoplight red. “I need you to take off your shirt.”
Thrills cascaded over my skin. “Whaaaat?”
“You have a tank top underneath, right?”
“How do you know that?” I slipped off my black T-shirt. Both of us weren’t wearing a shirt now.
“The thickness of your shirt isn’t consistent.”
He took my shirt and tucked it in the waistband of his jeans “I need you to wrap your arms around my neck…”
Melting. If we weren’t running for our lives, I’d like the suggestion.
“
We’re going to walk up the wall and go out the skylight.”
I jerked from my desirous haze, staring at the twenty-foot-high wall, the concrete ceiling, and the glass skylight. Shocks splintered my romantic dreams. “Excuse me? Did you say walk up the wall?”
Chapter Nine
Piper
I wrapped my arms around Math’s neck and my legs around his waist. His bare chest connected with my partially clothed one causing sparks against my skin. The heat between us flared. Our gazes connected, protective and exciting. I wanted to lean closer, close enough to feel his sculpted muscles and smell his intoxicating scent.
“Hold on.” His strong voice filled with confidence. He flattened his palms against the wall. “Ready?”
I gave a short, scared-excited nod. His muscles bunched under my tight grip and his hands and feet suctioned to the concrete. Resembling a spider, he crawled up the wall so fast a breeze rushed through my hair. My stomach flipped, like when a car hits a rough bump, and landed at my feet.
Except my feet weren’t on the ground anymore. They dangled in the air as if I was on a carnival ride, except I was riding Math.
We reached the ceiling and his hand reached over head. “Hang on tighter.”
I gulped. We were going to hang upside down from the ceiling, and the only thing between my body being flattened on the floor was him. I plastered my body to his, not wanting to lose my grip.
But it wasn’t my grip I was worried about.
Both his hands pressed against the ceiling. His feet scooted higher and we hung like a chandelier. We were hanging from the ceiling. My head spun. I struggled to control my breath as he crept toward the middle of the room toward the skylight.
The glass skylight.
Images of flying glass stabbing our skin, much worse than when Uncle Louie shoved me into the mirror, had me breathing hard. “Math?”
“Hold on. I have to cover my hand.” One of his hands unstuck from the ceiling.
We wiggled and dropped. I heaved and closed my eyes tight. When we didn’t fall, I opened them again. My shirt was wrapped around his hand.
