“No, I am. I’ve been trying to remember. I know something must have happened, otherwise he’d be here.”
“What’s the last thing you do remember?”
“I was cramping. I was scared for the baby. Then Mia’s friend, Reid—he’s some kind of doctor—he tried to help me.”
“Yes, the stranger. I know about him and his grandfather.”
“I never saw the grandfather. He was already missing when I met Reid.” Justine frowned. “I remember Mia going to look for him. . . .”
“That’s right,” Pascal soothed. He could tell she remembered more. “It’s okay to tell me. You don’t need to worry about hurting my feelings or making me angry.”
Justine looked at him, then back at her hands. “Reid said you put his grandfather in the Tank. And Mia, too.”
“No honey, that’s not true at all. Mia is fine. The grandfather too, although addled by dementia. Neither of them is in the Tank.”
“Why would Reid lie?”
“Why indeed? I don’t understand his agenda. For whatever reason, when his grandfather wandered off, Reid claimed I kidnapped him. I inadvertently made things worse when I sounded the Intruder Alert. Do you remember the alert?”
She nodded. He could see her latch onto that small truth. She was so easy to read.
He continued. “Of course, I only did it to mobilize my men to help find the old man. It worked—we found him wandering the streets with a gash on his head, so we took him to the hospital—but in hindsight, perhaps I shouldn’t have tried to help, because from that point things went from bad to worse. Reid turned Mia against me, and that’s when she tried to hurt Linus, and Brandt saved his life.”
“Yes, I remember something about that.”
She wanted to believe him.
“Then Reid turned Brandt against me. He told him—” Pascal’s voice broke. He took a deep breath. “I don’t know how to tell you this . . . Reid told him I killed you.”
Justine gasped. “He thinks I’m dead. That’s why he didn’t come back to get me at the house. Oh my God, why would Reid say that? Why would someone do such a terrible thing? We have to tell Brandt I’m alive, that I’m here.”
“I want that more than anything, and believe me, I’ve tried. I assigned my best men and we searched and searched, but . . .” Pascal paused for effect. “I’m afraid he’s gone, Justine. And there’s no way to tell him that you’re okay.”
Justine began sobbing. Nothing he said served to calm her, so he instructed Advani to administer a mild sedative without Justine knowing.
He returned to Linus’s bedside and sent Gomez to find Linus’s young lady friend. It would be good for his son to spend time with a friend.
“I’m here,” he said, stroking Linus’s hair. “I thought you’d appreciate an update. Things are going much better now that we’re rid of Dr. Doom. The new doctor is perceptive to my cues and adept at improvising. What she said about the vitamins could not have been better if I’d scripted it. The foundation for our plan is in place, son. Now the real work begins.”
“Chancellor?” Advani said, approaching. “This must be your son. I didn’t realize he was actually ill. Shall I have a look?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Pascal said.
“It’s no trouble.” Advani grasped Linus’s wrist before he could stop her.
“I said no.” Pascal stepped between them, forcing Advani to withdraw her hand. “My son is fine. He doesn’t need a doctor.”
“My apologies.” She stepped back.
“I wanted to compliment you on your performance with Justine. Keep up the good work and your daughter will enjoy my continued protection.”
“Thank you, Chancellor.”
“From this point forward, you’re not to leave Justine for even a moment. No one else is to see her without my express permission. You’ll sit at her door yourself to make sure. If you sleep, do it blocking her door. I’ll send word that you won’t be coming home. Someone’s watching your daughter?”
The doctor nodded curtly. “My mother.” Pascal analyzed her expression, pleased there wasn’t a hint of rebellion. Just determination. Her child was everything to her. She’d do what needed to be done. That was something they had in common.
“If there’s any change in Justine’s condition, I want to know immediately.”
“Understood, Chancellor.”
“Parvati?” He paused until she made eye contact. “Do not tell Justine anything about my son.”
The doctor cast a furtive glance at Linus, then headed back to Justine’s room.
He couldn’t have Justine thinking he was distracted by his son, a child, being there in the command post. Of course there was no way she could know how valuable Linus was to his operation, despite his age. But Justine might think him a hindrance, or worse, she might think he was in the hospital because he was ill with something more than a vitamin deficiency. No, Pascal couldn’t have that. He couldn’t have her thinking there was any weakness there. Advani had better keep her mouth shut if she knew what was good for her and that daughter of hers.
One Hundred Four
Aboard the Belle
Reid started down the steps to go belowdecks, only to meet Brandt on his way up.
“Hey how’s it going?” Reid asked, backing up to let him by.
Brandt’s face was blanched, his expression flat. “I’m sorry . . . I . . .”
“For what? What’s wrong?”
“I heard she was awake, and . . .” Brandt held out his hands and looked at his empty palms. “I didn’t mean to. I never meant to . . .”
Reid pushed Brandt aside and jumped down the stairs. What had Brandt said to her? What had he done? He ran to the room. He didn’t want to think that Brandt would hurt Mia. But he’d done it before. He reached the door and flung it open.
Mia was on the floor, hugging her knees, rocking.
Reid slid to her side. “What happened? What’s wrong?” He looked her over, but didn’t see anything out of place. Still, Brandt had clearly done something to hurt her. And Reid wanted to hurt him for it. “Mia, what is it? Tell me what’s wrong.”
She emitted a low keening as she rocked, but she didn’t answer.
He pushed her hair aside and studied her face for signs Brandt had hit her. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, twin rivulets running down her cheeks, but there was no blood, no bruising. He cupped her face gently in his hands and wiped her tears with his thumbs.
“Tell me,” he said softly.
“He . . . he . . . he told me.”
“That he hurt you?”
“What?”
“Wait, what did he tell you?”
“That she’s dead. Justine’s dead.” She sobbed.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her as tight as he could. He wished Brandt had told her a lie, something he could dispute. But there was nothing he could do about the truth. Nothing he could say to make it better. So he held her.
It was black outside the portal when she cried herself out.
She took a shuddering breath. “He hates me,” she said, her head resting on his shoulder. “He blames me for what happened to Justine.”
“How could he? If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”
“No, he blames me. He said so.”
He held her by the shoulders so he could see her face. “I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. I’ll talk to him in the morning.” He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.
“No, you can’t talk to him!”
“Why?” He didn’t understand the heat behind her response.
“Because he’ll tell you lies, he’ll turn you against me.”
“That’s not possible.”
“He’ll try. He’ll tell you horrible things. Promise me you won’t talk to him. I couldn’t take it if you hated me, too.”
“Shhh.” He kissed her cheek. “He could never turn me against you. I could never hate you, no matter what he said.” He kissed her other
cheek.
“Promise you won’t talk to him.”
“I promise.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
“Swear?”
“I swear.” He kissed her lips, her cheek, her temple. “I swear,” he whispered in her ear, then tickled her lobe with the tip of his tongue. She emitted the tiniest laugh, and he pulled back to see her face. She was smiling.
She leaned toward him, and he kissed her softly, taking his time.
“Take me to bed,” she whispered.
He picked her up and placed her on the bed.
She looked up at him. “I love you.”
The way she said it, the look in her eyes, he knew she meant it. And the way it made him feel in his chest, in his gut—he loved her too.
She reached for him and he took her hand and climbed in beside her. She clung to him like she couldn’t get close enough.
He felt the same, like he wanted to be so close nothing could ever get between them.
One Hundred Five
Lost Angeles
Pascal had slept off and on all night in the chair beside Linus’s bed in the command post. He hadn’t gotten much rest, but it was morning, and there was a lot that needed to be done.
He rubbed his hands across his face, noticing the scrape of stubble. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shaved or taken care of any personal necessaries. What he needed was a shower and a toothbrush.
Gomez sat at the desk, running things in his gray sweater vest. It was strange not to feel any curiosity about the decisions Gomez was making on his behalf, the affairs of the city, the status of the dentist or the Grand. Nothing inside him stirred when he thought about it. Nothing.
The thought of Brandt, though, that got the blood flowing.
He patted Linus on the leg. “Let’s see what Gomez found out about your friend. What did you say her name was? Jenna. That’s right, I remember now. I’ll make sure she’s available to spend the day with you. No, no, I want to spend the day with you myself, but I have business to take care of. What’s that? Yes, of course—I’ll fill you in on everything.”
Pascal stretched and headed to the desk.
“Good morning, sir,” Gomez said, peering over his glasses.
“Any luck locating Linus’s junior nurse friend from the spa?”
“I looked into it, but couldn’t be certain without her name.”
“Linus reminded me. It’s Jenna. I don’t know the last name.”
“No need. I found only one Jenna who worked at the spa. I know where she is.”
“Would you arrange for her to spend the day with Linus? Not here, though. The hospital is no place for young people.”
“I’ll see to it.”
“Let me know when you have it arranged, and I’ll take him myself. For now, would you stay with him while I get cleaned up?”
“Why don’t I take Linus to Jenna now? Justine is sleeping, and Dr. Advani guards her door fiercely. You’d be free to do whatever you need to do.” Gomez’s dark eyebrows were raised clear above his reading glasses. He seemed overeager, and Pascal wasn’t sure why.
Pascal glanced at Linus. “I suppose he’d feel comfortable going with you.”
“Linus and I have always been comfortable with each other, sir. I promise to take excellent care of him, and he’ll be in good company with Jenna.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Pascal looked hard at his secretary, trying to see what it was that was off. But he decided it was nothing. Gomez was simply taking care of things, as he always did. “Yes, of course you’re right. Fine. Go ahead. But when I see them later, everything had better be . . . as it should be.”
“I understand, sir. When you’re ready, I had a room prepared for you. It’s down the hall on the left, marked ‘private.’ Your personal items, clothing, toiletries, etcetera are laid out near the shower. I took the liberty of stocking your favorite brandy.”
“You take better care of me than any wife, Gomez.”
“Kind of you to say, sir.”
“Have Nathans man your post while you’re gone, and make sure he knows where to find me. I want to know right away if anything should change with Justine, or if Minou comes with information from the prisoners.”
“Understood. Shall I bring the daily reports to your quarters?”
“That’s not necessary. Do whatever you think is right and sign my name.”
Pascal kissed Linus’s forehead then headed to his room. He thought perhaps he’d feel differently about the affairs of Lost Angeles after the business with Brandt was concluded, but it was hard to imagine ever wanting to see another report again.
An hour later, Pascal strode down the hospital hall in a fresh suit, feeling alert and focused. The news Minou had brought from the Tank was scant but good—the pirate king had broken and revealed that Brandt and the stranger had gone north. The missionaries were from the north. He was sure that’s where Brandt was heading.
He arrived at Justine’s door. “Dr. Advani, how’s our patient?”
Advani rubbed her bleary eyes. “Improved. Alert. Iron levels are good. She’s eating.”
“Take ten minutes for yourself while I talk to her.”
“Yes, sir.” Advani shuffled down the hall.
“Good morning,” Pascal said as he entered. “I hear you’re doing better, so why the sad look on your face? Is Dr. Advani treating you well? I won’t tolerate a repeat of Dr. Doom.”
“She’s fine. It’s Brandt. I can’t stand that he thinks I’m dead.”
“You poor dear.” Pascal sat in the chair beside the bed. “That’s been eating at me, too. I keep coming back to the fact that he believes I’m the enemy. How could he think I’d ever harm you?”
“We have to find him. I’ve been trying to figure out where he’d be. Did you check the stadium? Or the house where you found me? He could be waiting for me.”
“Justine.” Pascal patted her hand. “I’m sorry to have to tell you, but I know why we can’t find him. I received a report this morning that Brandt left the city with Reid.”
“Oh.” Her face fell.
“Do you know where they might have gone?”
“No,” Justine said without looking up.
“I don’t want to cause you any more stress, but . . . with Brandt believing that you’re dead and I’m the enemy, I don’t know why he’d ever come back.” He went to the window and looked out, letting her reflect for a moment. He sighed and turned toward her. “If only we had some idea where they’re heading . . . we could focus our search efforts in the right direction.”
“I wish I knew.” Justine glanced up, and Pascal could see the gears turning. She knew something. She wouldn’t tell him right away, but she’d get there.
“I’ve asked the old man—Reid’s grandfather—where they might have gone, but nothing he says makes sense. Like I told you, he’s suffering from dementia.”
“Reid left without his grandfather?”
“Yes, isn’t that odd?” Pascal said. “I can’t think of a reason Reid would take Brandt and leave his grandfather. You let me puzzle over it, though. Your job is to rest.” He patted her leg in a fatherly way. “I must go see how Linus and his friend are getting along. I’ll be back later.”
He left the room, waited a moment, then stepped back in.
“Justine, there is one way you might be able to help. If you know how to work Reid’s vehicle, we could cover a lot more ground looking for Brandt.”
“They didn’t take the car?”
“No, they left on a ship.”
“That makes no sense.”
“I hope they didn’t leave the car behind because it’s broken. Do you know how to run it? It would speed up our search considerably.”
“I, I don’t. I’m sorry.”
Pascal shook his head sadly, then let the door fall shut.
He could tell she knew something about the car, as well as some idea where Brandt and Reid were headed. She’d come around if he didn’t press.
> First she’d ask for some kind of concession—proof he was on her side.
Whatever she wanted, he would give it to her.
One Hundred Six
Aboard the Belle
“I ran into Will yesterday at the shower,” Reid said, pushing aside the medical supplies on the counter to make room for his empty breakfast plate.
“Sounds kinky.” Mia raised an eyebrow. She was sitting on the bed with the breakfast tray Cook had made, her plate still full.
Reid laughed. “He told me a little about the San Francisco settlement. Sounds interesting. They don’t have seeds there though, or in the settlements farther north. Except for apples.”
Mia picked at her food. At least she’d finished Cook’s tea.
“It’s too quiet here. Did Will say if they have music?” Mia asked.
“He didn’t say.”
“Did he say if they stay on the boats all the time, even when they’re not out sailing around?” She made a face. “I’m not wild about boats.”
“I think they use them for fishing. I’d like to try fishing. Nobody fishes in Colorado. They used to, back in the Before. There’s no fish now.”
He had a pang thinking about Colorado, but he pushed it away.
“I wouldn’t mind trying fishing.” Mia spun the apple on her plate. “I’d like to see how apples grow, too. I can’t even imagine what that looks like.” She held her apple up in the air.
“Will said it takes ten years for a tree to make apples.” As he stared at the apple, his mind involuntarily went to Colorado again. Finding apples wasn’t enough. His people didn’t have ten years. He shook his head, forcing himself to return to the present. He snatched the apple from Mia’s hand. “Hey, do you think the apple starts out tiny and takes ten years to grow to this size?”
“I think there’s nothing for ten years, then pop, there it is.” Mia grabbed the apple back.
He plopped on the bed beside her and tried to take the apple again. She giggled, and he loved the sound, so he tickled her until they were both laughing.
Reid stared at the slanted ceiling. He was in no hurry to leave their little sanctuary. “I’m going to miss it here.”
Seeds Page 34
