by Jody Klaire
His touch on her hand told her as much. “It was worth a try.”
I DIDN’T KNOW what was going on backstage but I hoped the audience couldn’t hear it over Miranda and me playing. Her forehead was shiny, her eyes twinkling with hurt as she focused on playing through the pain.
Thud, clang, thump.
I kept my eyes on hers, willing her to focus everything on me. Her wrist was in agony but we were nearly there. We were nearly across the line. A few more bars.
Thump. Thump. Clatter.
I could see Miroslav out of the corner of my eye. He was watching something.
Clang.
He was dragged off his stool.
Uh oh.
The track wouldn’t kick in without him. What did we do now? I swallowed. Don’t panic. We’d do this together. We could do this together. I said a silent prayer and met Miranda’s eyes.
“Play,” I whispered to her. “Just play.”
Her energy was on empty. Mine was drained from helping. Still, she nodded. Her eyes determined, her chin up with grace. She placed her bow to the strings. Her eyes on me. I sent her every ounce of energy I had in response.
I tensed for the squeal . . .
Her bow glided over the strings. The tone, the skill, beautiful.
I breathed out in relief.
Bad wrist or not, she could play. Miranda closed her eyes and I saw something shimmer at her side. I felt the love from it ooze into her. Gentle maternal love.
Her mom. Her mom was riding to the rescue, her energy like she was holding Miranda’s shaking wrist steady. She was helping her play.
Go mom.
Tears brimmed in my eyes. I felt the breeze beside me. Love. “Good to have you back, Nan.”
The breeze tickled my cheek and I felt the damp trail of my tears.
“Ain’t ever left your side, Shorty.”
I could hear my breath shudder in my ears as the tears flowed. Miranda’s own tears trickled down her cheeks as she played, light pulsing from her.
Nan’s energy flowed around me, we were nearly there now. I closed my eyes and let myself flow into it. I opened up my heart and connected to it. Miranda’s violin sang with mine, somehow the music moved into a different tune in harmony. Perfect harmony.
Offstage the noises continued and somehow Miranda and I were in a different piece.
Moonlight Sonata.
The audience gasped at the change. Miranda met my eyes with wonder in hers. The music grew, I poured love into it, and she, her mom, they responded. It built, slow to rising, oozing with every care, every ache. Releasing into a crescendo, pulsing, radiating. Something beyond colorful filled my heart at the sound.
Tears rolled off the tip of my chin. Miranda’s shoulders shook from her own tears. The music bled with our emotions, our pains, our hopes, and shone. I shut my eyes as it filled me, healed me, soothed me.
Slow, soft, a whisper, the final note trailed off.
Breathing. soft, slow breathing. The sniffles from Miranda, the hum of the violin beneath my fingertips.
I opened my eyes and saw Miranda do the same.
Not a murmur from the audience. I couldn’t see them beyond the lights.
“You did it,” I whispered. I felt rooted to the spot.
“I felt her,” Miranda whispered back, her voice trembling. “I really felt her.”
The audience burst into applause. I wrapped my arm around her and smiled, fresh tears rolling down my cheeks. “Because she’s right beside you. She’ll always be right beside you.”
We took a bow. Smyth appeared from the side and I guided her toward the backstage. We’d done our best, gotten through the performance.
I gripped hold of the curtain and tried not to show how hard my heart was thumping.
What we would find backstage, I didn’t know.
Chapter 55
RENEE SLAMMED INTO the wall with a thud as Kevin grabbed hold of his spilled knife and ran at Miroslav. She pulled herself up, lunged at Kevin, and ankle tapped him. He fell forward and smacked into the floor. The knife skidded out of his grasp.
He wasn’t a fighter but he was wriggly. He was determined . . . and she just didn’t want to do serious damage. He was still a boy. She got up and pulled cable ties out. She stooped to take his wrist.
Smack.
Renee clutched her jaw. Kevin’s foot had connected with a sweet kick. She tripped over the wires and smashed to the ground. Stars filled her eyes. She groaned as her jaw hit the floor, her back tooth cracking on impact.
She spat out the blood. Good thing CIG had a great dental plan.
Kevin lunged for Miroslav.
She staggered to her feet, attempting to shake off the hazy feeling. She stumbled over the trail of wires on the floor and clattered to her knees.
Kevin grabbed Miroslav, threw him off his stool, and laughed at him.
“Nan, keep her safe . . . Please,” she whispered, hauling herself upright.
Kevin shot a nasty smile at Miroslav. “Watch her get skewed.”
Renee followed his gaze. Miranda raised her hand to her bow. Renee dived for the button, shoving Kevin to the side. She scrabbled for the play button. Why hadn’t she taken Polish?
Kevin folded his arms then dropped them to his sides. “What?”
The music kept going. It wasn’t crackling.
Kevin’s scowl wrinkled his pale forehead.
Renee looked at the stage. Something pulsed from Aeron, it shot across to Miranda who pulsed with it too.
Renee blinked. Nan was beside Aeron. Another woman stood beside Miranda . . . and she was playing.
Really playing.
Renee pulled out her St. Christopher’s and kissed it, thanking God and every saint she could think of.
“Can’t take away skill.” Miroslav got to his feet with his fist drawn back. He grabbed Kevin by the scruff and knocked him to the ground with one mean punch. “Or heart.”
He nodded and staggered back to his stool.
Renee blinked down at Kevin.
Out cold.
Renee looked from Kevin to Miroslav and back. “You kept that up your sleeve.”
Miroslav smiled and raised his chin. “Miss Samson taught me.”
She chuckled. Of course Aeron did.
“Can you fade the music in?” she asked, not sure if Miranda could pull off the rest of the piece.
Miroslav opened his mouth.
Huber and Frei hurried in.
Huber offered no pleasantries, not even a glance in their direction. He picked up Kevin, slung him over his shoulder, and headed out with him.
“A man of many words.” Renee glared after him.
“Did you kiss a wall?” Frei folded her arms.
Renee sighed. “Don’t ask. I’m trying to remember that it’s not polite to kneecap children.”
Miroslav raised his eyebrows and she gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Can you fade it in?”
He shook his head. “It is not the same piece.”
Renee frowned.
“She’s something else,” Frei mumbled.
Renee turned to follow her gaze. Aeron. Aeron and Miranda.
Something breathtaking pulsed from them. Pinks, golds, and whites swirled around them. The music filled her, drawing her out from the inside. Her breath filled with the dulcet tones, her heartbeat with the rhythm of Aeron’s bow. Every beat, every note, seeped through her deepest core, wrapping around her like a shield. Like armor.
Moonlight Sonata?
“Hope the guy is getting royalties up there,” Frei mumbled. Her tone didn’t hide her awe. “They practiced that?”
“I have not heard it played that way before.” Miroslav sounded smitten. She was with him.
“Yeah, she’ll do that to a person,” Frei said.
Renee smiled because Frei had said what was on her mind.
The music stopped, and Renee heard herself whimper. Frei rubbed her eyes and Renee gave her a quick squeeze.
“Welcome to
the fan club.”
“I’m a member of both of them.”
Renee frowned, half-watching Aeron put her arm around Miranda and bow as the buyers leapt to their feet.
“Both?” She was clapping too. All three of them were.
“Both of you. I love you both.” Frei cleared her throat. “Now quit drooling at her and move.” She held Renee’s gaze for a moment with genuine warmth in her eyes. “You want a picture?”
Renee opened and closed her mouth as Frei went to the door and checked outside.
“Right . . . Move.” She turned but Aeron was in front of her, brown eyes glistening with tears. Her heart performed some kind of break dance. “Okay?”
Aeron smiled, glowing with emotion. “Thanks for providing the percussion.” Her gaze travelled downward and lingered with eyebrows raised.
“Long story,” Renee mumbled, trying to make herself half decent.
“Uh huh.” Aeron’s gaze was still on her ripped blouse.
Renee raised an eyebrow as Miroslav stifled a chuckle. Aeron’s cheeks filled with color.
Renee cocked her head, deliberating teasing her.
Frei cleared her throat. “Rescue. Kids. Now.”
She sighed and poked out her tongue. “Spoil sport.”
Frei, as always, looked unfazed.
Aeron put the violins in the cases and handed them to Frei, her cheeks still rosy. “Miroslav, you doing okay?”
Renee knew he wasn’t.
“Piggyback,” she mumbled at Aeron. “I’ll take Miranda.”
Aeron saluted, her focus on Miroslav who looked ready to pass out.
“Jäger is out cold in Harrison’s office but he’s a hard man to keep subdued.” Frei ushered them toward the door. “We have to move.”
They ducked out into the corridor. Hurried down the quiet halls. The calls from the auction rumbled out from the theatre.
Frei swore in German and Renee felt her stomach lurch.
Jäger.
He was waiting between them and their escape route. A large blade in hand.
“Renee, front entrance. If you meet contact. Fire.” Frei handed the violins to her.
Renee shook her head. “Urs, you can’t . . .”
Frei pulled a blade from her suit. “Go.”
Renee glanced at Aeron.
Aeron shook her head.
“Get her out, Renee. You know she is essential.” Frei met her eyes. Fear, courage, determination.
Aeron frowned. “I ain’t—”
“Go!”
Renee nodded. She pushed Aeron to move. “Kids first, okay? She knows what she’s doing.”
If she could just convince herself of it, she’d be calmer.
Aeron let out a sigh. “It feels wrong leaving her behind.”
Renee glanced over her shoulder as Jäger narrowed his eyes. “Something tells me it’s a personal thing.”
Renee pulled out Aeron’s mask from her waistband and put it on her, then did the same for Miroslav.
“It is. He hurt her before,” Aeron mumbled. “I don’t want her going through that again.”
Miranda grimaced and put on her mask. Renee glanced behind, sending up a silent prayer.
Frei knew what she was doing and she knew when to run. She hoped.
URSULA HELD HER ground. Aeron and Renee needed to get away. Jäger narrowed his eyes and glanced at their retreating backs.
“A slave who dares to challenge me.” He sneered, his lip curled up like a snarling dog.
He dodged forward. She blocked his jab. She slammed his blade into the wall with her own. Sparks shot back at him. He dodged. His scowl deeper.
“You’re slower than you used to be.” She smiled.
He swiped his blade. She parried it.
“You’ll always be a slave.” He swiped again. She parried again.
“Urs, we’re halfway,” Renee sounded in her ear.
“Must have been embarrassing to have a little boy get the drop on you.” She blocked his route again, flicked her blade out, and nicked his arm. “Can’t even scare the kids anymore.”
Jäger’s eyes narrowed. A glint of rage shone through. His blade caught her biceps. She caught him with an uppercut. He staggered backward.
He touched his lip. Blood on his fingertips. “Lucky shot.”
Ursula smiled. “Losing your touch. To think I used to be scared of you.”
Jäger zipped forward and rammed her off her feet. She blocked his blade. The handle cracked her cheek as she rolled out of the way. Jäger smashed into the wall. She kicked his bleeding leg. It buckled.
Her vision fuzzed over as she tried to shake off the blow.
“Some fighter you are.” He used to terrify her. He had haunted her memories. The pain. The hurt.
“At the garage, Urs, move your butt,” Renee yelled into her ear.
Ursula backed off as Jäger turned. The intensity in his eyes made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.
“Huber or not, a lesson in manners is in order.”
Ursula bowed low. Her heart pounded in her chest. She had definitely stirred his anger and bought time for Aeron and Renee to escape.
“And one remains behind to face her fear,” she mumbled to herself. It was fitting. She’d planned everything but hadn’t quite figured how she was going to get herself out.
I HELPED RENEE carry an unconscious Owens from in front of the bus and tie her up next to a half-naked guard.
The kids were all ready to go.
The bus was running.
“Ursula, move it,” Renee hollered into her mic. She checked her watch. “We have to leave. We need to meet the plane.” She sighed and threw her hands in the air. “I can’t leave her, Aeron.”
I gripped my head. And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. The vision filled my head and I stumbled. One remains behind to face her fear.
All the air was sucked out of me. Hands gripping, squeezing. Frei.
No.
Faith, hope, and love . . . the greatest of these is love.
“Love never fails,” I whispered. I felt it, sent it Frei’s way. “Hang on. I’m coming. I’ll never leave you behind.”
I glanced at the bus, then at the dirt bike. “Get the kids to the airstrip and I’ll get Frankenfrei.”
Renee shook her head. “Aeron, I can’t—”
I placed my finger over her lips. “We can. I can. Trust that you trained me to pull this off. Trust me.”
Her eyes pulsed with confidence. “I do.”
“Then get the kids to the air strip.”
I headed to the locker and pulled out two helmets. I picked the keys out of the box.
“Keep a seat for us,” I shot at Renee.
She nodded. Her eyes filled with panic, pride, and affection.
“Get moving, dimwit,” I whispered and yanked on my helmet. I gave her a thumbs up and roared the bike to life.
I sped out of the garage and wobbled. The wind buffeted me but it was calmer than it had been. I wrestled to turn the bike toward school and smiled. I’d hated high school. I knew exactly how to express it.
Chapter 56
URSULA PICKED HERSELF up off the floor and spat blood.
Jäger laughed. “What’s the matter, slave?”
He jabbed his blade out. She parried it. He caught her across the cheek a second time, sending her clattering into the wall, shoulder first.
Her blade dropped to the floor. She went to reach down. Jäger slammed her back against the wall. His hands at her throat. His blade poised.
“Not so talkative now, slave. Where’s that wit now?”
He squeezed harder.
Her fingertips tingled.
“When will you slaves learn your place?”
Ursula spluttered. Her lungs burned.
“What was that?” He loosened his hold. “You want to apologize, beg for me to take pity?”
“Never.” She gasped in a breath. Her vision darkened.
“What?”
Jäger scowled. He squeezed harder.
“No . . . one . . . slave.” She gripped his hand. Hers were so heavy.
Jäger laughed in her face. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”
A roaring sound filled her ears. Her hand fell from his. She fumbled to her back. Strained to reach. “No . . . Sla . . . ve . . . Fr . . . ee.”
Nearly there. So close.
His eyes bored into hers. “What did you say?” He stopped and turned, distracted by the sound. “What the—?”
Got it.
Click.
Jäger met her eyes, his widened.
“I’m no one’s slave. I’m free, you son-of-a-bitch.” She pulled the trigger.
Bam.
Jäger stared down at his stomach. He stumbled backward. She dropped to her knees. She tucked her pistol and blade away. She held out her hand. Aeron roared toward them on the most beautiful dirt bike she had ever seen. She gripped hold of Aeron’s waist as she roared by and whipped around onto the back.
“Helmet’s behind you.”
Ursula rammed the helmet on. They smashed through the main doors out onto the gravel. The bike obeyed like it had been made for Aeron. One powerful leg steadied it as she slid the bike around. Gunfire pinged off the gravel beside them.
Full alert.
Ursula reached into her pocket and hit the button. Flames plumed up from Sawyer’s building.
Aeron roared them down the driveway.
“Renee, you copy?” Ursula sighed. The link had been battered. She pressed the switch in her helmet. Static filled her earpiece.
“Flash twice when you reach the airfield.”
Ping.
A bullet dinked off the guard hut at the gate as they whipped past.
Ping.
Ping.
“They can shoot some, huh?” Aeron grunted as they roared blind down the dust-fogged road.
“Just keep driving.” She glanced over her shoulder. The gunfire faded. “Jäger had a vest on. They won’t be far behind.”
“I thought you took the cars out?”
Ursula winced at the static. “Not the academy. The buyers still had phones.”
“Bummer.” Aeron grunted as the wind bounced them all over the road.
“My thoughts exactly. Now drive.”
