His dark eyes scrutinized me. I didn’t have to fake the blush on my face. I fought the urge to fidget under his heavy gaze.
“Hm. Well, I suppose I’d like a demonstration, if you please.”
I know my face fell and then irritation burned under my cheekbones. “You don’t believe me?”
He chuckled. “It isn’t that. Like every other talent in the world, there are degrees, my dear. I want to see just how proficient a touch-know you are.”
My annoyance died a little and my shoulders slumped. “That makes sense.”
I followed him out the door.
“Have you ever met another touch-know?”
I shook my head. We stepped into the main foyer of the museum. Morning light flooded the marble room and illuminated the entrance to the Reading Room. Adele was setting up behind the information desk and waved. I returned the motion and then turned back to Colonel Worthington.
“No. If I have, I don’t know it.”
He stopped and searched over my face. I could have sworn I felt that gaze move across my skin. “You don’t remember the beginning of your life, do you?”
I hesitated. This subject I did not speak to anyone about. Not even Terry.
“I don’t hold it against you.”
The answer came out, against my better judgment. “I don’t remember anything before Terry found me in an alleyway six years ago.”
“Terry?” He raised an eyebrow.
Another blush swept from my collar to my brow. “He’s my best friend.”
Colonel Worthington grunted and moved into the Ancient Greek gallery. We stopped in front of a life-size marble statue of Aphrodite. She was looking off over one shoulder, one arm gracefully moving away from her body, the other missing from the elbow down.
Colonel Worthington motioned to the statue with his crutch. “Go on. Tell me about her.”
I wiped the moisture from my upper lip and rubbed my hands together. “All right.”
I could feel the statue watching me. Waiting for me to touch her. My hands hovered over the carved leather of her sandals. I strained my ears, listening. I blocked out the sound of Colonel Worthington’s watch, his heavy breaths, the echo of Adele’s steps in the foyer, and my own heartbeat. A tiny thread of sound rose to the surface.
I never needed to touch an object. That was for show. It made me feel better, and it did make it easier to “hear” them sometimes. But now, I was a bit uncertain. Once I’d touched an object without paying attention. It had been an Indian deity of destruction. He’d had his own personality, and the experience had been…well, I didn’t care to repeat it.
You don’t have to worry about that from me, love.
The statue had some presence. Being so old, I’d have been a little surprised if it hadn’t.
Tell me something only you and the curator would know. Please.
The statue heaved a sigh that echoed through my mind like autumn. Well then, a test for you. How sad. I thought perhaps you were looking to take an interest in me. I suppose some things don’t change over the course of history.
“Well?” Colonel Worthington’s voice seemed distant.
I flapped a hand at him.
I apologize. But you’re right. People don’t pay enough attention to art like you anymore.
Flattery. The statue snorted. I should be insulted, but I am a statue of the goddess of love and beauty.
I waited. You didn’t push objects with a mind of their own. Just like people, they get difficult.
Tell him I know the thing the walking statue guards. I know there are two pieces. I know where they are.
Thank you. I pulled away from the connection. I’ll come back and visit again.
I repeated the words, and Colonel Worthington’s whole demeanor changed. He grabbed my arm, his fingers biting into my flesh. “What do you know? Where did you hear that?”
He shook me and I backed away. Real fear zipped through my body. I tensed, balancing on the balls of my feet, ready to run. This was no frail, old cripple yanking on my arm. Iron strength ran through his palms.
“I—I don’t know. It’s what she said. What does she mean?”
He pulled me close and stared into my eyes. “What is my mother’s maiden name?”
I asked the statue. She sounded as shaken as I felt.
“Reynolds,” I replied.
He released me and I staggered back against Aphrodite’s pedestal. As my hand came in contact with a stone toenail, images flooded my mind.
Thomason followed Colonel Worthington in the dark. He glowed with heat and brass and something else. He carried a small package, and Colonel Worthington struggled with a larger one, wrapped in rags and slung around his neck. He muttered as he walked past the statue, but the words were garbled.
And I knew. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the box I searched for was hidden inside the folds of the grungy package bouncing against his chest. And somehow, Thomason was irrevocably connected to it.
Colonel Worthington snapped his fingers in front of my eyes and the scene faded. “I said, are you all right?”
I blinked. “I think so.”
I pushed away from the pedestal. Colonel Worthington looked as though he couldn’t decide whether to be angry or sad. I wasn’t sure I liked either option.
“You are a touch-know. One of the strongest I’ve seen.”
My chin rose. I wiped my hands on my skirts, sucking in large mouthfuls of air. My heartbeat began to slow. “I already knew that.”
Amusement flirted with his lips. “Modest too.”
I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I stared at a wrinkle in his forehead and forced indifference into my voice. “Well, everyone has their flaws.”
Moisture prickled along the nape of my neck.
He paused again. “I think you’re not telling me everything.”
“I only relayed the message she gave me.”
“What else did she tell you?”
Relief made my joints weak. She hadn’t told me the last bit. She’d shown it to me. “Nothing.”
My conviction must have translated well, because he gave a sharp jerk of his head.
“I apologize for my outburst, Genevieve. I didn’t mean to scare you. But the thing she was speaking of,” his lips thinned and he turned away. “It is more important than anyone knows. I had to make certain you weren’t lying to me. Not about that.”
I didn’t miss the implications. He knew I withheld something. The question became what he thought I knew.
“Apology accepted. But don’t ever do it again.” My words were braver than I felt.
He nodded once, and stretched out his hand. I took it and shook slowly. With a tiny tendril of power, I reached out and tried to read him. I was better with objects, but it worked on people too.
He was empty. It was as if I’d touched a blank sheet of paper. I released him and he turned away, leading us out of the gallery. I shrugged it off. I’d probably just fried my brain talking to Aphrodite.
Now I just had to decide where he’d put the box. The more I thought about it, the more my stomach churned. Never before had I had this feeling when thinking of stealing something. Tears pricked my eyes.
Guilt.
Chapter Nine
I didn’t see Terry for another three days. While the delay shouldn’t have worried me, I still felt antsy. A strange feeling fluttered in my gut. I wanted to leave and find out what was going on, but after Terry and Justin’s warnings, I knew I couldn’t. Even if they hadn’t told me to stay away, I couldn’t have run off. Colonel Worthington was warming up to me, and even Walter seemed more relaxed. And, though I wouldn’t admit it aloud, I didn’t want to leave. I enjoyed my days at the museum. The only thing that could have made them more perfect would be Terry.
Heat stole up my face at the thought. Enough of that.
All the same, relief made my knees watery when I saw him again. The purple around his eye had faded into a brown ring, but there was a new wariness t
o him that made my breath catch. The mischief that had always surrounded his presence like a coat was gone.
“Terry!”
I came from the visitor desk and threw my arms around him. His arms wrapped around me and squeezed. His face rested against my hair, and I could have sworn I felt him sigh.
“I’m very glad to see you, Gennie.”
I pulled away and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Not nearly as glad as I am. When you didn’t come back, I worried.”
His eyes drifted away. “Can we go outside and talk?”
I looked behind me where he stared and saw Thomason’s shining form watching us intently as he strode through the room. I shivered and nodded.
Terry grasped my hand and led me outside. I sat on the bottom of the steps. It was a rare bright afternoon, and I reveled in the sun warming my shoulders. He flopped down next to me. He squeezed his hat in one hand, and ran the other through his hair. The silence made the air thick around us. I bumped his shoulder. “Spit it out. You’re making me more nervous.”
“I can’t stay long. I snuck out to get some information about Elliot and Clarissa. I think I know where they are, but I’m not sure I can help them. I wanted you to know that if I disappear for a while,” he drew a deep breath and flicked a glance at me. “If I don’t come by for a while, don’t come looking for me.”
My fingers bit into the fraying tweed of his coat. “Don’t you dare do anything stupid, Terry.”
He pretended offense. “Who? Me? Never.”
When I didn’t respond in kind, his smile faded. His green eyes held mine with an intensity that made me feel as though someone had just punched me in the gut.
“If something happens, and you don’t hear from me after four days, stay here. You’re safe as long as you stay with the curator. I’ll try to get word to you explaining what I can.”
I sniffed. Anger and worry mixed into a churning mess in my stomach. “You don’t have to do this, you know. Heroes don’t always fare well in the stories.”
He wove his fingers with mine and squeezed. “I’ll write my own story, thank you.”
“Terry—”
“Hush. I’ll be back before you know it, and you’ll think this whole conversation was a horrible prank.”
I smiled, but I didn’t mean it. Inside my heart pounded and my stomach did flips. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He was looking for Elliot and Clarissa, and it wasn’t going to end well.
He pressed a kiss to my fingers, then bounded off the steps, turned the corner, and disappeared into the street. Four days was going to take a long time.
“So, that’s your young man then?” Walter’s voice made me jump.
I stood, nearly tripping over my own feet in my haste. “He’s not mine.”
Walter just patted his belly, staring over my head at the street. “If you say so.”
“Why were you spying on me anyway?” I fisted my hands on my hips.
He chuckled. “I wasn’t spying. You just weren’t paying attention.”
A speculative light glittered in the depths of Walter’s dark eyes. I didn’t like it. Somehow, I’d given him something to be intrigued and amused about. While we were getting along better, we were by no means friends.
Unease curled open in my belly and I struggled to keep it off my face. I slapped on a smile and grabbed my skirts, heading back up the steps. “Enjoy the day, Walter. It’s lovely out here.”
He grunted and nodded, but didn’t move his gaze from the spot where I’d been sitting with Terry.
****
It didn’t take four days.
Two days after I spoke with Terry, Colonel Worthington and I sat down to dinner. We put our bowls of beef stew on a table I found in one of the empty rooms and scrubbed clean. It held four chairs, which hadn’t seemed unusual to me when I sat down.
Then a knock reverberated through the room.
“Would you get that?” Colonel Worthington asked. He folded his napkin in precise pleats and laid it across his lap.
I opened the door to find Phillip standing in the glow of the newly repaired gas lamps.
“Phillip!” I threw an arm around him and ushered him inside. I’d been feeling guilty and avoided his underground domain since I arrived.
“Colonel Worthington, Phillip’s come to join us for dinner.” I said.
Colonel Worthington didn’t look surprised.
I rushed to get him a bowl and dig out another spoon. As I sat the food in front of him, I nearly dropped the soup. In the brighter light of the room, I realized Phillip had cleaned up. He’d slicked back his dark hair and wore his Sunday best. Judging by the crisp creases in his trousers, he’d never worn the suit before.
“I hope you don’t mind a little company.” His smile was a little green around the edges. I almost thought he’d have been ecstatic if we’d said we did.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been by to see you sooner.” I tore off a piece of bread and chewed, watching his reaction.
He looked at Colonel Worthington, the fireplace, the floor, everywhere but at me. My heart fluttered.
“It’s all right. I’m sure Colonel Worthington here has been keeping you busy. And with the new modifications, I’ve been—” a thump sounded under the table, and I glanced at Colonel Worthington, who tried to keep a calm façade. Phillip ran a thick finger under the edge of his collar. I doubt it had much to do with the starch in his collar.
“Anyway, I just thought tonight would be a good night to pay a visit.”
It sounded hollow, even to my ears. I pushed away the bowl, though I had only eaten a few bites. “What’s going on?”
Colonel Worthington blinked and wore an expression worthy of a baroque cherub. “Why would you think something is amiss?”
I snorted. I couldn’t help it. “Give me a little credit, please. I love seeing Phillip, but I don’t think he came for a social call.” I turned to him and balanced my chin on my hand. “Did you?”
He swallowed the soup that was in his mouth like it was made of clay. A fine sheen of moisture glinted off his face in the flickering light. “Of course I didn’t. Seeing you was a side bonus. I had something important to tell Colonel Worthington. I went to a meeting today, and I have to give him the news.”
If my jaw hadn’t been propped in my hand, it would have been on the table. “Well. Then. I guess it’s lovely to see you as well.”
I focused on my stew, my face burning. How self-centered I had become. I believed he’d dressed up to deliver some sort of horrible message to me. Relief warred with continued suspicion in my chest. I tried to ignore the latter.
Ever since Terry dropped by, I’d been plagued with horrible nightmares. They were beginning to affect my waking life. I popped a spoonful of beef into my mouth. Well, I would just have to start working harder then. If I was tired enough, I wouldn’t have to worry about dreams.
I didn’t pay much attention to the mumbled conversation Colonel Worthington and Phillip were having. Something about deadlines and getting paperwork and items together. Mundane things Colonel Worthington was always discussing with someone.
I made small talk when their conversation lulled, asking about Phillip’s brother and how things were going. He jumped on the chance and told us elaborate stories about Grant and his latest escapades. While we chatted, after everyone had finished, I cleaned up the dishes. I’d just pulled the linen towel out to dry pots and pans when Phillip loomed behind me and took the fabric from my hand.
“I’ll do it,” he said.
He cleared his throat as I smiled and sat down. The atmosphere tensed again, and I twisted my fingers in my skirts.
Phillip threw the towel over one shoulder. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper. There was sadness and something too much like pity on his face.
My mouth was suddenly a desert, and my hand trembled when I reached out to accept the note. Somehow I didn’t think it was from Spiros this time.
I tried to slip
the paper from Phillip’s fingers, but he held fast.
“I’m truly sorry, Gennie.”
He released the paper and the familiar scrawl on the front made my heart stop.
It was Terry’s handwriting.
Chapter Ten
I held my breath and unfolded the letter. The writing danced across the page at an odd angle. He’d been in a hurry when he wrote it. I couldn’t help the brief flash of his hands, one bloody, touching the paper as a pencil scratched across the surface. The ghost of his feelings of panic and sadness lingered.
Gennie,
I didn’t have time to leave you a message in the alley. Stay at the museum. Justin and Spiros’ boss, Lord Kreios, cannot be trusted. What you do about the box I leave up to you, but I don’t think you’ll be safe, whether you have it or not. I made a mistake. Spiros found out, and now I have to run. If I’m lucky, I’ll find you later.
If I’m not, then you should know that my feelings for you go beyond a friend and the confines of this paper.
Terry
The end of the letter grew blurry through my tears. I pressed the paper to my chest and covered my eyes with one hand. Air seemed hard to come by. Colonel Worthington’s hand landed on my shoulder.
“Genevieve, I’m sorry.”
“Phillip, do you know where he was headed?”
The large man looked like he wanted to cry with me. He shook his head. “He only stayed long enough to write the note and ask me to get it to you.”
Tears spilled over, despite my attempts to keep them inside. “Thank you, Phillip. I would have worried even more if you hadn’t gotten this to me.”
He nodded once then slipped out the door. I couldn’t blame him. If I could have escaped so easily, I would have. But no matter where I went, I knew the hole forming in my heart would not be left behind. Terry had been my friend, and I didn’t want to think about what else he might have been. That hurt worse.
Into the Ether Page 5
