by Vivien Dean
“So, she has powers too?”
“Yes. She was always stronger than I was.” He laughed, a self-deprecating sound lacking in genuine amusement. “She never would’ve got into the mess I did.”
“What happened?”
Taking a deep breath, Cash dared to sit down on the other end of the couch, waiting to speak until Maddy twisted to face him. “When I was sixteen, my mates and I got it into our heads that we could make a difference. We saw wizards abusing their abilities and nobody doing anything about it, so we decided to give it a go ourselves.”
“Wizard police.”
“Something like that. Far more covert, though, and regretfully, even more violent. As time went on and nobody attempted to challenge what we were doing, our methods got even dodgier. People started seeking us out to take care of their problems, and we…well, let’s just say we fell for our own publicity.”
Her clear eyes never wavered from his, the disappointment he’d noted earlier now replaced by understanding. “That’s why you know so much about weapons. Firsthand experience.”
Cash nodded. “It went on like that for years. Eight, to be exact. Then we found out about a wizard in Dubai who was using the unrest there to hide what he was doing. We thought it would be a challenge to take him down.”
“We? How many were in your little…gang?”
Her nomenclature made him cringe, but he answered anyway. “Five. Until Dubai. That’s when we lost Milo and Gordy.”
“And then there were three,” she said softly.
He could still see their faces that last night. Milo, baby-faced and apple-cheeked, with his shock of red hair testimony to his Scottish heritage. Gordy, with his hawk nose and constant grin, even when they could smell the blood inside the house. None of them had expected the ambush. There was no way Cash would’ve risked the lives of his friends if they had.
“Alonzo was a cousin on my father’s side,” he said, keeping his voice low and even. It was phony comfort. If he pretended the memories meant nothing, maybe Maddy wouldn’t see how much guilt he still carried about the entire debacle. “We’d never met. After my parents got married, my dad’s family back in Italy cut him and my mother off.”
“Alonzo was the wizard in Dubai?”
“Yeah. Wanker thought it was a matter of family honor taking me on, but I didn’t find out about the connection until after he killed Milo and Gordy.”
Her eyes were soft. “How did they die?”
“A setup.” All his intentions to maintain calm were starting to waver. Beyond dreams, Cash had done everything to avoid reliving the events of his friends’ deaths. The first year had been the worst, the time he’d been back in his so-called life, deflecting the rage of all those people who’d lost someone they loved. It didn’t matter that he had too. Starting over in New York had helped, but it was frightening how vivid memories could be after such a long time. “We showed up where we thought Alonzo was hiding out, and we walked in on a bloodbath. A hostel full of kids from uni. Those who weren’t already dead were dying. Milo and Gordy got caught in the crossfire.”
He could still hear their screams, cut off in mid-flow when the men who had been waiting slit their throats. It was the last time Cash had ever let someone walk in someplace before him.
“Not that this isn’t awful…” her voice was just as gentle as her gaze. “…but why would that put you on someone’s most wanted list? Why would you have to run away and pretend to be someone you’re not?”
“Because Alonzo set the entire thing up. He wasn’t even at the hostel. I lost two of my best friends, and the person who got the heat for the whole mess was me.”
She was smart enough not to need him to elaborate further. More importantly, she was empathetic enough not to push when the memories were so obviously painful.
“You live under a lucky star, you know that?” Maddy said it with a small smile, but when he tried to reach out to her, she shied away. “Do you miss it? That kind of life…it had to have been a rush.”
His lashes dipped. “It was.” Even more quietly… “And I do. Sometimes.”
Her gaze slid to the unopened gifts, and her arms slid around herself as she shivered. “And now they know where you are again.”
“I meant what I said.” Leaning forward, Cash rested a hand on her knee. The muscles trembled beneath his touch. “I promise I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Deliberately, Maddy looked him, and then at his hand, before slowly rising to her feet. For the first time since meeting her, he realized he couldn’t read what was going on inside her head.
“I appreciate you telling me the truth,” she said, backing away toward the bedroom door. “I just…I need to think about all this.”
She was halfway in her room when she spoke again. “I would’ve believed you.” Her head tilted in his direction, though her expression escaped him. “Even without the promise.”
The door closed quietly between them.
Ava was officially past being angry. Arriving at work that morning and finding no sign of either of her coworkers had moved her into the realm of true worry, driving her to pound on Aaron’s office until he opened the door.
“You have to call the police,” she had demanded.
“And tell them what?” Aaron had looked awful, like he’d slept in his clothes at his desk. For a split second, she’d felt guilty about bothering him. “It takes three days for a missing person report to get filed if there’s no sign of foul play. And the security tapes came up with exactly nada.”
He had banished her back to work, coating her exit with promises of more investigation, but Ava had spent her entire day unable to focus. Her lunch hour was devoted to calling every person in Maddy’s online address book on the faint hope that someone might have heard from her. When that turned into a dead end, she tried to do the same with Cash’s, only to discover that, as gregarious as the young man was, his address book was completely empty. He had zero ties to anyone within the city, except for work. Ava found that almost as alarming as his sudden disappearance.
A phone call from Aaron at four only served to confuse her further. “I need you to do something for me before you leave for the day,” he said.
She stopped in mid-doodle. Anything to distract her from the problem of Maddy and Cash was welcome. “Just name it.”
“Do you still have that painting that came for Cash the other day?”
She’d forgotten all about that. Sliding from her stool, she walked over to the shelves where she’d stowed it, pulling it out to look at the brilliant colors again. “Got it in my hands as we speak.”
“Good. Put it aside, will you? I’m bringing someone in tonight to take a look at it.”
Her temporary hope plummeted as she set it on the worktable. “So this isn’t about them being gone?”
The fact that Aaron hesitated a second too long switched her mood yet again. “Just covering my bases. Leave it out where I can find it, okay?”
She hung up with her gaze fixed on the painting. It was a piece in the puzzle of Cash and Maddy’s disappearance, but how it fit, she had no idea. There didn’t seem to be anything special about it, though the radiance of the color was certainly entrancing. Grabbing her magnifying glass from a tray of tools nearby, Ava started poring over each inch of it, starting with the odd signature mark in the lower right corner and working her way to the left, then shifting upward to do the same thing in the opposite direction. It had a secret in it somewhere. She just had to find it.
A blonde in a blue dress near the band made her stop. The hem of the iridescent dress first caught her attention, but after a cursory appreciation for the color, she went on, skimming over the black legs of the woman’s dancing partner to continue her examination of the painting. It was when she reached the woman’s face that Ava froze, her eyes widening as she jerked the scope to the man who held her.
Holy mother of Minnie Pearl.
For long seconds, she jumped back and forth
between the couple’s faces, but the added scrutiny only convinced her further as to what she was seeing. These weren’t just anonymous strangers painted onto a canvas. These were her friends. The blonde and her tall escort were undeniably Maddy and Cash.
Without looking, Ava reached for the phone. Aaron would want to know about this. It might even be enough to finally get the police involved.
Her hand knocked over the acetone she had been using to clean a different picture frame. She immediately dropped her scope, darting to catch the bottle from spilling onto the painting. A few drops splattered onto the edge of the canvas, but without a rag in immediate sight, Ava had no choice but to blot at it with the edge of her sleeve.
The last thing she wanted was to touch the paint with her skin.
That didn’t mean her knuckle didn’t brush against one of the raised ridges anyway.
Chapter Ten
Her legs were like ice, encased in a silky mesh that clung to her skin like spider webs, only matched by the goose bumps that had suddenly erupted along her chest. Ava glanced down, and her eyes widened at the sight of her exposed cleavage, thrust upwards and outwards by the satin sheath of her corseted bodice. Only a tiny bit of lace edging the seam allowed her any sense of modesty. Around her neck hung a large box on a strap, filled with row upon row of cigarette packs, and a casual peek at her feet showed tottery heels completing her ensemble.
Only then did Ava notice the orchestra behind her, the brass instruments catching the light from overhead and sending shiny glints off into the heavens, each musician playing as if his life depended on it. Not many people danced. The men outnumbered the women in the room almost three to one, with most of the females already on the dance floor.
For a second, she pouted. If she’d been wearing one of the fancy evening dresses instead, she could be pretty and warm.
Then it hit her.
Holy crap, I’m in the painting.
She didn’t know how it was possible, but the facts around her were indisputable. The band, the dancers, the vibrant colors…it all added up to one big, fascinating puzzle.
So lost was Ava in her newfound discovery, she didn’t notice the hand that crept out from a nearby table, inching toward her, thumb and index finger at the ready.
“Ouch!”
The cigarettes went flying through the air as Ava jumped at the sudden contact, her butt smarting from the man’s hard pinch. As she scrambled for her balance, her ankle turned, pitching her sideways over the edge of the bandstand and into the lap of a spectacled trumpet player. The music screeched to a halt. All eyes turned to see what had caused the disturbance, settling on her struggling form as her hose-clad legs kicked uselessly at the air.
A tuxedoed man from the doorway bolted over, and Ava held her breath as he got larger and larger as he approached. Wide-eyed, she stared up into his black gaze as he reached over, scooped her up into his burly arms, and tenderly deposited her onto a nearby chair.
“You okay, Ava?” he asked, his deep voice incongruously soft as his eyes flickered over her. “What happened?”
She pointed a finger toward the offending man. “He pinched me, the big jerk.” Her head snapped back to stare at her rescuer again. “Wait. You know me?”
But he was already gone, his tuxedo jacket straining across his back as he leaned over and picked up the now pale pincher by his lapels.
“You’re looking for some chin music, right, pal?” he menaced. “’Cause I gotta think that’s the only reason you’re even thinking of letting your mitts touch Miss Reisman.”
The pincher whimpered at the bouncer’s rough shake. “C’mon. Have you seen her ass? And she was practically begging for it—”
The sudden punch to his gut forced the air from his lungs, and he gave up struggling as his beefy captor began dragging him toward the club’s front door.
“She’s not like the other girls,” the dark-haired bouncer growled. “Ava don’t skate around.”
She watched as the man who had pinched her was tossed out onto the street, his outraged cry filtering back into the club as the doors slowly swung shut. Behind her, the music started to play again, and gradually the couples returned to the dance floor, already forgetting the minor disturbance, concentrating only on their partners.
The bouncer reappeared in the entrance, his jaw set. When his black eyes came to rest on Ava, still sitting where he had perched her, his face softened, and he walked over, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets.
“I should’ve seen it coming,” he said as he stood before her. “You shouldn’t have to put up with mugs like that, not a nice doll like you.”
“Ummmm…thanks. I think.” As Ava rose to her feet, she stumbled as a sudden pain shot through her ankle.
“You hurt?”
“My ankle. It’s a little…” She choked on the rest as he scooped her up into his heavily muscled arms, making her feel tiny for probably the first time in her life. When he began marching for a door behind the orchestra, she pointed toward the cigarettes that still littered the floor. “My box.”
He didn’t stop. “I’ll get ’em later. You need to take a breather, make sure you haven’t done any serious damage to that…” His eyes flickered over the curve of her leg, and Ava could have sworn he was blushing as he quickly looked away.
“That’s really sweet of you. Thanks. Again.” She said it with a warm smile, and his color deepened. Now that she could see him up close, she wasn’t nearly as frightened. Sure, he was large—okay, gigantic was probably more accurate—but there was something almost childlike in those dark eyes, and he was definitely leaning toward cute, in a big, boxer-like way. Nothing for her to be scared about at all.
Pushing the door open with his shoulder, he came to an abrupt stop, jolting Ava in his arms. A scrawny young man with a clipboard blocked their path.
“Gino!” he scolded. “Why aren’t you at the door?”
“There was a problem, Sammy,” Gino explained. “I was just—”
“Miss Reisman.” Sammy set his mouth in a grim line. “What’s happened now?”
“It wasn’t her fault this time,” Gino rushed to say. “Some mug grabbed her ass—”
But Sammy wasn’t listening. “You know I’ve got to tell Mr. Lombardi, don’t you, Miss Reisman? And this, your first night back. What’s he going to say?”
“I’m guessing it’s not going to be glad to see you,” she said with a weak smile.
“You can bet your sweet ass it’s not!” The voice boomed from the open door in the hallway, and all three turned their heads to see the older man fuming in its frame, smoke billowing around his head as he ripped the cigar from between his teeth to speak. “Now, get in here. Both of you.”
Ava shrank into the chair as the door slammed shut behind her, folding her arms across her chest in an attempt to hide her cleavage. She had crossed her legs when she’d sat down, but when the tiny skirt rode up and exposed more of her thigh, she knew from the scarlet tinge in Gino’s cheeks that too much showed and hastily set both her feet back onto the floor.
Her mind was on overload, trying to take in all this information without looking like she didn’t know what the hell was going on. A magical painting that sucked in people who touched it. It was like something out of the movies, only more vivid and better dressed. The same thing must have happened to Maddy and Cash, though why an expert like Maddy would have come into physical contact with an oil painting, Ava had no idea.
Speaking of Maddy and Cash…where in hell were they?
Mr. Lombardi lumbered around her chair to sit on the corner of his desk in front of her. “Lemme guess,” he started. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“It wasn’t!” Gino said before Ava could argue.
He shot the bouncer an angry glare. “No one’s asking you.” He turned back to Ava. “You wanna tell me what happened, or do we call this three strikes and you’re out?” As Gino took a breath in order to speak, Lombardi jabbed a warning finger at him. “I sai
d, stay out of it, Gino.”
“Someone pinched me,” she explained. “That’s why I dropped my box, which is why I fell. And then when I tried to stand back up, my ankle hurt, which is why Gino was carrying me back here.” She bit her lip and tried to look as innocent as she could.
A full minute passed with Lombardi glaring at her with narrowed eyes. Finally, he scowled. “How do you expect me to stay mad at you when you pull that baby face on me?” he complained, breaking his gaze to stub out his cigar behind him. “If you’d lied this time, you’d be out on your ear right now, you know that, don’t you?”
Ava nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes, sir.”
“And you…” He pointed at Gino with his cigar butt. “…your job does not include keeping an eye on the cigarette girl. Now, if she was on the roster, that would be a different ball of wax, but she’s not, so keep your paws to yourself, capisce?”
“Yes, Mr. Lombardi.”
He shifted his weight back to face Ava. “How do you expect me to trust you to put you on the roster if you keep pulling shit like this? I know you want it, and you’re certainly as much of a looker as any of the other girls, but if you can’t even sell the decks…” Lombardi let his voice trail off, shaking his head.
Her mind raced. Roster? Other girls? Then it clicked.
The other women she’d seen were paid to dance with the men. And dancing was better than selling cigarettes, in any world.
“I can do it,” Ava said eagerly, straightening in her seat and smiling as brightly as she could. “Let me give the roster a go tonight, Mr. Lombardi. I’ll prove to you I’m just as good as the other girls. Better even. I can show you now if you want.”
