by Janet Leigh
“You ask a lot of questions, and you can stop. I won’t tell you my plans. Not gonna happen.” He paused. “How did you get out of the dumpster? Did pretty boy Caiyan come to your rescue, or was it the traitor Marco?”
I broke eye contact at the mention of Marco’s name.
“So, Marco then. Ya know my father has been financing his racing team for the last ten years. Ten years of time and money that could have advanced my career—down the toilet, and that little prick goes off and joins the WTF.”
“I’m sure Marco had a good reason to join the WTF. He does whatever he wants.”
“I know you want to know where I’m going. And I’d love for you and your defender to come back and try to stop me. It makes the game so much more fun to play.”
“The game?”
“Do you think I do this for money? I’ve got money. I do this for my family because when we find the King’s key, the game will be over. My grandfather will be happy, and the Mafusos will control all time travel. They will rule the world.”
If he had followed with a sinister laugh it would have been appropriate. My heart beat faster, and my inner voice agreed—I was in a room, naked, with a nutcase. The sound of the soothing waves changed into a torrential thunderstorm. Mitchell tightened his grip on my wrists and eyed my tits.
“Mitchell—”
“Stop calling me Mitchell; I go by Mitch. I’m not a child.”
“I can see that.” My eyes betrayed me again. Mitch was enjoying our encounter.
A wide smile spread across his face. “Normally, I’d let you sample the goods, but I’ve got a date with an angel.”
“Where are you going when the moon cycle opens?”
“I’m going to gamble. The next time you see me you can call me Uncle Mitch.”
A sly grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. I tried a roundhouse kick to his midsection and he twisted, avoiding the kick and wrapping me from behind. He bent my arms behind my back; I struggled to try to free my wrists, but he kicked my feet out from under me, and we fell to the floor. Ick! His naked body was pressing against the back of my robe. I felt his manhood against my buttocks.
“Mitch, you don’t have to do this. I just want to talk to you.”
“I’m done talking with you.”
I tried squirming free. He rammed his knee into my back, wrapped my hands in the belt of my robe, and tied it until my shoulders felt like they would rip from the sockets. He couldn’t take me with him. Worst case scenario, he would leave me tied up, and Ace would find me.
“Mitch, if you don’t let me go, I’m going to scream.”
He yanked off one of my socks, and I inhaled to let out a scream. He stuffed the sock into my mouth before I could release.
“By the way, it was the socks that gave you away this time—and the crap massage.”
I gagged and tried to push it out with my tongue. It stayed put.
“That’s better, much quieter,” he said, standing me up and dragging me through an adjoining door. A five-foot silver cylinder sat center in a white-walled room. Steam escaped from the unit like skeletal fingers coaxing me to come inside.
What was this? The steam should warm the room, but instead, a cold chill pierced my skin and rattled my bones. He opened the door and pushed me inside. The temperature in the box was freezing. It wasn’t steam; it was vapor from liquid nitrogen. Wedging my foot against the door, I pushed, trying to prevent Mitch from closing me inside. My cell phone flipped out of my pocket, and I jolted forward trying to catch it before it hit the ground. My feet slipped out from under me, and I fell into the freezing vapor. He slammed the door shut. I struggled to stand upright. Poking my head out the top of the unit, I watched as he wedged the handles with a metal sign from the wall that informed the user not to be in the unit more than five minutes.
“Stop following me.” Mitch punched at the display screen on the unit and more of the cold fingers curled from the machine. He turned and flipped the switch of the radio on the counter behind him. Eminem began rapping his lyrics from the speaker.
“Just in case you work that sock free.” He retrieved my cell phone from the floor. The picture of Caiyan and me flashed across my lock screen.
“I see why Marco joined the WTF. You have provided him with a quest. Too bad. The two of you would have made cute blond babies together. Maybe the Scot can thaw you out after your deep freeze.”
Mitch swiped upward and took a photo of his penis. “Something to remember me by.”
He placed my cell phone on the counter and left the room.
Surely Ace would find me. My teeth began to chatter, and my nipples sprouted icicles. Why did I go into that room unarmed?
I told myself not to panic. The unit was some sort of cold chamber. I remembered my brother researching cryotherapy units for his office. He wanted one to use on patients for inflammation and weight loss. I couldn’t search the unit since my hands were tied. I cried out. A muffled cry. Who would hear me over Eminem’s steady bitching about his ex-lover?
My robe was becoming stiff, and I was starting to lose the feeling in my toes. I wiggled them frantically to get the blood flowing. The song changed to Tori Kelly’s “I’ll Find You.” I guesstimated the songs lasted about three minutes unless it was Eminem’s extended version. Either way, my limbs were getting stiff. I listened to the words and tried to sing along to keep me calm and warm. My words were a strangled hum vibrating like a kazoo through my sock. As my eyes became blurry, I wished Caiyan had me wrapped in his arms. There was a glow from inside the unit chamber, and what felt like moments later, I saw Caiyan’s face, his dark hair surrounded by a halo of white light. His piercing green eyes—judging but filled with worry. There was a clang of metal hitting the cold floor, and the unit opened. Warm hands lifted me out, squeezing me tight in an embrace, and I faded to black.
When I came to, Caiyan hovered over me, snapping orders to people in the room. I was lying on the massage table Mitch had occupied earlier. Warm blankets were on top of me, and three Asian women were rubbing the blood back into my hands and feet.
Caiyan had my right arm in his hands. He leaned over me and ran a finger down my cheek. “Are ye alright, lass?”
I nodded. My pride stuck in the back of my throat like a piece of stale popcorn at a bad movie. Once again, a brigand got the best of me, and my defender rescued me. I didn’t obtain information about Mitch’s travels, or why he took the items from the museum. A small tear leaked from my eye and remained stuck on my frozen face.
Caiyan took a deep breath. He hated to see me cry. I managed to move my arm and wipe away the tear.
There was a commotion at the door, and Ace entered followed by Gertie.
“Oh, thank heaven. Hon, what happened to you?” Ace asked. He came over and smoothed my hair away from my face. “We should call Agent McCoy.”
“No!” I mouthed, and my words came out as a hoarse cry.
Gertie grabbed my free hand. “My God, your hand’s as cold as a penguin’s pecker.”
The laugh hurt, but the ice started to thaw from my insides. I was glad Gertie came with me.
Caiyan was standing over me shaking his head. “Lassie, next time ye want a massage, call me.” He motioned to the ladies to leave, and they trooped out of the room.
I swallowed my pride and sat up, pulling the warm blanket around me. My teeth still chattered as I explained, “Mitch stuck me in the cold chamber.”
Caiyan sat on the table next to me and wrapped his arms around me. My body heat increased, and I was glad the connection between us generated the sudden warmth. His shirt stretched tight across his hard chest and my head cradled on the strong curve of his shoulder. “I’m going to kill that wee asshole,” he said kissing the top of my head.
Ace peeked into the next room. “He’s not so little,” Ace said, returning with my cell phone and admiring the photo Mitch left for me.
He showed the photo to us. “Damn, that’s not real is it?” Gertie asked.
> Caiyan grimaced and released me.
“You were supposed to come and get us if you found him doll, not try to conquer the beast all by yourself,” Ace said, tsking a freshly painted red fingernail at me.
“How did you find me?” I asked Caiyan.
“Your key. You summoned me.”
“But you were in Spain.”
“Actually, I was down the street finishing a business deal. A deal I had to leave in the middle of.” A flash of anger crossed his face.
He hadn’t mentioned he was back in the States. I narrowed my eyes at him. “We need to go somewhere to talk.” I stood and wrapped the warm blanket around me, not missing the inquisitive look in his eyes regarding my lack of clothing. My legs were a little wobbly, and Caiyan put an arm around my waist to steady me.
“I need to finish my meeting; we can talk after.” He led me to the dressing room. Walking increased my circulation, and I regained my balance along the way.
“Thanks for saving me,” I said lifting my head to meet his green eyes.
He put a finger under my chin and bent down to kiss me gently on the lips. “I weel never let anything bad happen to you. Get dressed and meet me oot front.”
I dressed and met Caiyan in the lobby. Ace and Gertie waited for us outside. Caiyan paid the bill, and I avoided the curious stares from the ladies behind the counter. Caiyan had obviously barged into the place and taken command.
Following him outside we met up with Ace and Gertie. The final slice of sunlight held onto the horizon and a hazy orange glow blanketed the city. I had a new appreciation for the warm temperatures of the outdoors.
“There was no sign of Mitchell in the spa,” Ace reported.
“The weasel made a quick exit.” Caiyan nodded at Ace.
“Where are we going?” I asked Caiyan,
“I have business, and I need a drink.”
Chapter 6
We cut across the street and headed west, then made a left on Doyers Street. Tourists were milling about in search of authentic Chinese cuisine, along with a scatter of the locals selling wares from shops and carts.
The shops lining the narrow street supported three to five levels of apartments above them. As we continued down the street, the number of tourists became less, and I questioned Caiyan’s destination. The buildings blocked the setting sun, creepy shadows reflected off the storefronts.
Caiyan stopped in front of a four-story, brown brick building. A man slouched against a galvanized steel overhead door and eyed our group of merrymen warily. A sign above the man read Chemist.
“Why are we stopping at an old drug store?” Gertie asked Caiyan. The place looked abandoned, but I picked up a distinct hum of music coming from inside the place. Caiyan ignored Gertie and approached the man.
“What’s the password?” the man asked Caiyan.
“Strawberry Jell-O,” Caiyan said.
“Alright, ya can enter.” He rapped twice on a red door to his left, the door swung open, and we entered. Music flowed from the inner sanctum as Caiyan led me into a secret speakeasy-style bar. The place projected the aura of another time, lit only by incandescent wall sconces and an exquisite chandelier of dangling chemistry glassware. Multiple red velvet sofas lined the walls of our wood-floored walkway. Round tables and funky chairs sat in front of each sofa creating charming seating clusters for guests.
Farther into the club, a marble bar extended across the back of the place. A bartender dressed in a white lab coat was busy mixing concoctions in funky goblets for the customers. It reminded me of a scene from a nineteenth-century absinthe den, or European Apothecary—where apothecaries made the medicine of the times instead of pharmacists.
Caiyan stopped at one of the empty sofas.
“Sit here until I finish my business.” He pointed at the sofa and left to join a short, round man standing at the bar. Ace sat down next to me, and Gertie sat across on one of the stubby square stools. A small, round cocktail table covered with a white cloth separated us. A waitress dressed in steampunk-inspired clothing greeted us and passed out menus.
“I ’ave been wanting to come ’ere, but couldn’t get the password,” Ace said as he glanced over the menu.
“The drinks sound awesome,” Gertie said. “I think I’ll have one of these for health and beauty.”
The menu divided the drinks up much like the spa. There were drinks for pain, stimulation, aphrodisiacs, and stress relievers. I chose one of the stress relievers called Feeling Blue. An appropriate choice, since my fingers, toes, and mood identified with the drink.
We ordered, and Caiyan returned. Scooting close to me, he leaned back and placed his arm across the back of the sofa. His mood had changed from annoyed to almost jovial. Caiyan’s deal must have gone well.
“Who is the man you’re meeting with?” I asked.
“Someone interested in a certain sword I may have acquired.” Caiyan grinned, and his upper lip quivered slightly.
“You got a good price?” Ace said more than asked, and a tiny, proud smile hinted at the corners of Ace’s mouth.
“The price was fair,” Caiyan frowned at Ace.
“When did you get home?” I turned toward Caiyan with my real question hanging in the air. Why didn’t you call?
“Recently,” he said.
The waitress returned with our drink order and brought Caiyan a Glencairn of whiskey.
She placed the glasses on the table. “On the house, sweetie,” she said, patting Caiyan’s hand. My body tensed. Caiyan leaned forward and placed a hand on my knee.
“I meet many of my clients here. It’s a more discreet location,” he whispered into my ear, which led to a subtle nibble of my earlobe. He wasn’t normally so affectionate in public. Gertie raised both eyebrows in my direction.
Caiyan seemed to realize Ace and Gertie were staring and changed the subject. “Have ye figured oot where Mitchell is going?”
“He goes by Mitch now,” I told them, and Caiyan cut his eyes at me.
“No, I haven’t figured out where, but I might know when. I think it involves Bonnie and Clyde.” I explained the things Mitch took from the museum. “He also told me he wanted us to come find him. Something about playing a game.”
“He’s leavin’ clues. That cannae be a good sign. If he’s telling us to follow him, he’s going to set a trap.”
“I doubt he is smart enough to catch you, right?” Gertie asked.
“It willnae be me he’s catching.”
“What do you mean?” I asked him.
“The boss man told me Marco will be traveling this cycle.”
It surprised me that Jake wasn’t sending Caiyan with Brodie or on another mission. We had so many brigands to follow.
“You’re not following Rogue?” I asked. The Russian brigand was a favorite opponent of Caiyan’s. They almost enjoyed sparring with each other.
“No, I like having a co-defender. It makes my life easier.” Caiyan leaned back and took a drink of his whiskey.
Since when? Caiyan couldn’t stand the fact Marco had joined the WTF, or the fact I transported for both of them.
“You know, since Bonnie and Clyde were from Dallas, wouldn’t it be something if you got to see that speakeasy casino in Arlington during its prohibition years?” Gertie asked.
“What casino?” I asked.
“I went on a tour of a famous speakeasy in Arlington for my local history around Texas paper. Lots of famous people used to visit the place. I can’t recall the name, but I’m sure Bonnie and Clyde were among the gangsters that visited. It’s a Baptist university now.”
Caiyan chuckled at the irony of the ex-gambling hall.
“Mitch did say he was going back to gamble,” I said.
“I dinnae know what all the fuss was aboot. The Barrow gang never hit any big banks, and I doubt the Mafusos would waste their time unless they could get their hands on a key.”
“I agree,” Ace said. “They were pretty much small-time criminals. It was their love st
ory that made the headlines.”
“And all the people they murdered,” Gertie added.
“Dinnae worry. Agent McCoy will figure out the connection and send Marco to fetch him.”
My stomach tightened at the mention of Marco and murder. Caiyan moved closer and ran his hand up my thigh. It was sexy but sort of awkward with Ace and Gertie so near. I heard his key give a muffled thunderclap and Caiyan kissed me long and hard.
He wore a key obtained during a prior travel. We called it the Thunder key because etched on the moonstone was a thunder cloud with tiny blue diamonds falling from it like rain. It had belonged to a particularly nasty brigand. Prior to that, Caiyan had been without a key. For almost a year, he’d been grounded after exchanging his key and his vessel to Mitchell Mafuso in order to save my life. It was the only drawback to our gift. Having a traveler’s key was only half of the battle. Catching the vessel was the real trick of the trade, and the Mafusos had both of Caiyan’s greatest treasures.
“Do you like this new key?” I asked, running my hand across the front of his shirt and the smooth stone that lay beneath. It gave a small bark and I jerked my hand back.
“It’ll do.” Caiyan took a sip of his whiskey and gave me a cheesy grin. It was the one he used when he was about to toss me in the sack. I smiled back because a toss was exactly what the doctor ordered.
The waitress brought Ace and Caiyan more drinks. Gertie and I were still sipping the first one. The portions were generous, and Ace had downed his second drink and was working on a third.
We discussed ideas of why Mitch would associate with Bonnie and Clyde.
“Do y’all think you’ll be robbing banks?” Gertie asked, her brows knitting together.
Caiyan paused. “That would not be righ’, now would it, Gertie? I don’t see any fortune in a small-time bank robbery.”
“Na nearly as lucrative as the job we pulled last week, ’eh?” Ace gave Caiyan a toast. “The Confederate sword was worth the risk. It’s a beaut!”
