It wasn’t until she’d driven through the boom gate that he caught up. He leaped in front of the car and slapped his hand on the bonnet.
“Give me the sword, bitch.”
Shilpy inched the car forward threateningly. “I’ll call the police or run you down. Whichever is quicker.”
“You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
Shilpy edged the car forward another metre and a half and pushed Mr Blue Suit towards the road. He glanced nervously over his shoulder at the passing traffic.
“Move or be moved,” she said. Blue Suit stood there for a long moment before raising his hands in an ‘I surrender’ pose.
“This isn’t over, Keres Ter Nyx,” he said, pointing his finger at her.
“You’re wrong, Erisian, about a great many things!”
He stepped to the side, and Shilpy sped away. She detoured into side streets in case he was following. Then she made a U-turn and headed towards the city. City driving had always been a nightmare, but this was a worthwhile exception.
Even if she weren’t trying to lose a tail, she would have gone to the city. She felt dirty having won the sword. Dirty for abusing her vision for personal profit. She parked on Wattle Street and navigated through the city by foot until she reached an innocuous tall building. A young woman with a nose ring sat at the front desk. Behind her was a sign for the Children in Need charity.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Yes, I’d like to make a donation.”
“How wonderful, that’s very generous of you.”
Shilpy grinned and handed over the cheque for $513,000, the remains from her lotto number winnings. The money would help to alleviate the suffering of child soldiers and children displaced during times of war. She liked to think that Dusk would be proud of her.
* * *
She’d found the sword. If the vision came true, the Erisians would be after it. If they got their hands on it, the attack on Dusk would happen shortly after.
Shilpy returned home. She carried the box containing the sword up the two flights of stairs and then into the bedroom, where she laid it out on the bed.
She severed the tape with a knife and carefully unwrapped the item from the packaging material. It was beautiful.
The weapon had an unusual shape—different from almost every blade she’d trained with. Weighted at one end, it was bulkier than a katana but felt pleasing and comfortable in the hand. The symbol of Ponos, the almost-naked man toiling beneath a large rock, decorated the sheath of the weapon. The sword was heavier than Shilpy preferred but in excellent condition. The metal shone like a mirror. She was almost afraid to touch it.
If only she didn’t have to get rid of it.
Tonight, she’d drive an hour or so out of Sydney and bury the thing off-road somewhere. Dusk wouldn’t complete his contract with the Erisians, but at least he’d live. Shilpy went through the bedroom cupboard where they kept their odds and ends and pulled out her gardening trowel. A shovel would be better, but she didn’t own one. Inner-city living made it difficult to keep a garden. Especially as a renter.
He’d call soon, and once they’d caught up on the events of the day, she’d go. She searched through several drawers, but Dusk had moved her gardening gloves. She couldn’t find them anywhere. Ten minutes later, the front door opened.
“Hi, baby,” Dusk’s voice called from the other room. “You home?”
Shilpy froze mid-search. For half a second she considered not answering. What was he doing home? She bit her lip. “I’ll be right out,” she cried. She needed to hide the sword.
No, that wouldn’t work. He could come in at any moment. She left the box on the bed, closed the door behind her, and joined him in the kitchen. They embraced, and she positioned herself between him and the bedroom. After a long kiss, she led him into the kitchen.
“Drink?” she asked, thinking on her feet.
“Please.”
Shilpy handed him a beer, and while he was opening it, she moved his bags into the bedroom. She dropped them onto the floor and looked around frantically. If he found the sword here, he would take it down to Melbourne. Plus, she’d have to endure all manner of uncomfortable questions about why it was here in the first place. She hid the sword in the cupboard, positioned a closed suitcase in front of it, and then closed the cupboard door.
When she returned, he’d taken a seat on the couch. “How did it go?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light.
“Not well.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything was lined up. We’d done our research and found the artefact. I even came home early to meet Anderson, but someone outbid us.”
Oh shit.
“Someone outbid you?” she said, noticing her voice rising to a squeak.
“Yeah. We’ll track down the new owner and offer a side deal. She’s been resistant, but Anderson said he managed to give her his business card.”
“Who is she?” Shilpy asked, holding her breath.
“We don’t know yet. We’ll still acquire the item, but it may take longer. I’d hoped to have put this all behind me by the end of the week.” He sighed and shook his head wearily. “Mestor better not be messing with me.”
Shilpy frowned, noticing for the first time his stiff posture, rigid muscles, clenched jaw, and corded neck. She took a seat next to him. “What makes you think he is?”
“I don’t know. I have a feeling maybe he’s manipulating me.”
“I hope not,” she replied, pressing her lips together. It was a little frightening seeing Dusk this worked up.
“There will be hell to pay if he is. I won’t be used.” He frowned and blinked several times. As if he was coming back to himself. “Enough about me. Are you okay?
“I’m fine.”
“You didn’t call me, so I assume no more bad dreams.”
“A few, but it’s been better,” she said, feeling ashamed for lying.
Dusk embraced her. “I wish I could be here more,” he said, in a soothing tone. She rested her head on his chest. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Her arms tightened around his waist. “No, have a drink with me.”
“I really should—”
Shilpy leaned over and kissed him. He reeked, but she did her best to ignore it. They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment, and then he nodded.
She tore herself away from the hug and returned to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. When she returned, he’d vanished. For a moment she feared he’d gone to the bedroom, but then she spotted his dark shape against the skyline, standing on the balcony.
The air outside had dropped a few degrees, but the sun was still warm. Dusk wordlessly placed his arm around her waist as she approached. “Why do you think you’re having so many bad dreams?”
The sun slipped behind the shadow of the building opposite, and Shilpy nestled closer to him for warmth. He really did need a shower.
“I worry,” she said. “I worry all the time about what’s going to happen. Sometimes I don’t know if I’m dreaming or recalling a memory. I worry about you in Melbourne, about you getting hurt.”
Dusk ran a hand through her hair but said nothing.
“I worry about us staying together, and that I offended you last time we spoke. I’m . . . I’m sorry.”
Dusk kissed the top of her head. “Your question made me uncomfortable, but maybe it wasn’t unreasonable. We can talk about it, but not now.”
Shilpy grimaced. Losing the sword had him seriously agitated. How was she going to get it out of the room? Could she hide it until tomorrow?
He lifted her chin and their lips met. His kiss was bold, hard, and filled with meaning. They ordered takeaway, opened another bottle of white, and then found a seat on the balcony and stared at the cars parked below.
“It will all be over soon,” Dusk said. Shilpy curled her head around and stared at the bedroom door before returning her gaze to the winding-down city.
“What if you can’t find th
e heirloom?”
“I will. It’s only a matter of time, and I’m sure I can convince this mysterious buyer to sell us the sword.”
“What if she won’t?”
Dusk didn’t say anything, but something in his eyes left her cold.
Chapter 12
Where am I?
The faint green mist swirled and spun in eddies around her. She could see only a metre ahead. The air wasn’t cold. Instead, it felt like steam against her skin—like being inside a sauna.
In contrast, the concrete chilled the balls of Shilpy’s naked feet. She stumbled forward through the fog with hands outstretched. It felt as though she was walking in circles. If she could locate a wall, maybe she could feel her way out.
The sound of voices ahead startled her. Relieved, she almost called to them for help, but something stopped her. There was no way of telling if the people the voices belonged to were friends—or foes. After pausing to listen, she adjusted her direction and stumbled blindly forward. She changed course a few more times, trying to narrow in on the conversation.
“Time, time, time, there is no time,” three voices moaned in unison. Shilpy stopped. The Moirai! Did they know that she was here? Maybe, maybe not. She took one step backward, turned, and sped away in the opposite direction. Why couldn’t they leave her alone? She’d gone only a few steps before she heard the three voices ahead of her.
“Come to us, our servant. Before it is too late.”
A small scream escaped Shilpy’s lips. She quickly smothered it with her hands. They’d been behind her—how could they be ahead? Shilpy spun and ran in a new direction, lurching through the mist with hands outstretched. She crashed into something and tripped but immediately climbed back onto her feet.
Keres Ter Nyx women weren’t trained to be weak. She might no longer be a sister, but she was no pushover either. A few cuts and grazes wouldn’t stop her.
She kept running. Her bare feet pounded the concrete. She ran until her lungs burned. She ran until the minutes dragged into an hour. She ran until time lost all meaning. She ran because she couldn’t afford to stop.
Everywhere the mist followed her. There was no way out of it. She stumbled once more, and somebody caught her. Shilpy lay in their arms panting, but then more limbs tangled around her body. Hands seized her arms and wrists. She gawked up at the three women staring down at her.
“Time’s up,” they said in unison.
Shilpy screamed.
* * *
The ring of Dusk’s phone pierced through the haze of sleep. Shilpy groaned. She’d fallen asleep in one of the chairs on the balcony. Someone had wrapped a blanket over her. The ringing stopped. She was tempted to roll over and go back to sleep but couldn’t help noticing Dusk’s frown.
He leaned against the kitchen counter staring at a spot on the floor.
Panic gripped her. The sword! No, she couldn’t see it anywhere. It must still be hidden away. It couldn’t stay in the cupboard, though. By itself, it might go unnoticed for a few days, but with the box and the wrapping, she wouldn’t be able to keep it where it was for very long.
For the moment, Dusk seemed intent on the phone. She could hear frantic babbling from whoever was on the phone from the balcony.
“Whoa, whoa, slow down, my friend.” Dusk paced back and forth, listening intently to the voice on the other end of the line.
“No. Don’t do that . . . I don’t . . . Hond, that isn’t necessary. Hond!”
The conversation continued, and with each minute that passed, Dusk grew more agitated. Finally, in exasperation, he hung up. He looked as if he might fling his phone off the balcony but spotted that she was awake and instead joined her. “Hond is flying up. He’s going to stay the night.”
She groaned. “I don’t—”
“Too late. It’s done.” His tone held an air of finality. She didn’t like it but had heard him speak this way before—he wasn’t going to accept any further arguments. From his perspective, the conversation was over. She glanced towards the bedroom.
“When will he arrive?” Shilpy asked.
“He called from the airport,” Dusk replied. “Maybe three hours.”
“Will you pick him up?” If she could get Dusk out of the house, maybe she could hide the sword properly. She wouldn’t be able to sneak it out while both men were here. The apartment was too small.
Dusk shook his head. “The man insists on coming up, so he can make his way here.” Despite all Dusk’s speeches about Hond’s loyalty, Shilpy had the sense he wasn’t too happy about the uninvited visit. Shilpy poured another glass of wine, and Dusk put on a movie. Then she disappeared into the bedroom to try to improve the sword’s hiding spot.
Two hours later, there was a loud knock on the door. Shilpy made a point of ignoring it. Dusk stood and, grumbling under his breath, went to answer it.
“Anderson?” Dusk exclaimed, with genuine surprise in his voice. “What are you doing here?”
Shilpy froze. It wasn’t Hond? She moved to the door to see what was going on. Blue Suit from the auction stood on the other side. How had he found her?
Anderson’s eyes were wide open with surprise, but then his gaze flicked to Shilpy, and they narrowed. “Mestor knew you would betray us.” Without warning, he pulled a revolver from a barely visible holster inside his jacket.
Faster than Shilpy would have thought possible, Dusk seized Anderson by his wrist. He hooked an arm under the man’s elbow, pinning him. Blue Suit’s eyes bulged. With an effortless twist, Dusk broke his opponent’s arm.
Anderson screamed, and Dusk spun and threw him across the room. After landing upside down on the couch, Anderson rolled off the cushions and onto the floor.
With both hands clenched into fists, Dusk stormed towards him. Anderson twisted onto his side, his revolver in his other hand, but Dusk kicked the man before he fired, and the shot went wide. The television shattered and fizzed.
Frantically, Shilpy scanned the apartment for a weapon. The sword was in the other room, but the kitchen was closer. She snatched a butcher’s knife, but when she turned back, the two men were wrestling in a tangle of limbs and grunts.
Shilpy advanced, looking for a clean opening, afraid of hitting Dusk. A moment later, the gun fired again, and the two men went still. Shilpy stared in horror. What happened to the bullet?
Slowly, Dusk stood. His chest was rising and falling rapidly. His eyes were wild, and his hands opened and closed. Anderson didn’t move. A pool of red crept across the floor.
* * *
Shilpy had suggested calling the police, but Dusk had insisted they wait. It didn’t seem right, but he’d told her to trust him. Part of her wanted to argue, but another part of her didn’t want to deal with what was happening. So she held her tongue and waited.
Hond arrived less than an hour later. He looked as if he’d run from the airport to their house.
Dusk led him to the body without a word. Shilpy had helped him move it onto a white sheet. Hond’s face betrayed no emotion. Shilpy sat at the table scrubbing the bloodstains out of a cushion.
She wanted to hide in some small corner of the room. This was their home, their apartment, the place where she should feel safe. Now a corpse lay in the centre of it, staring at her.
Shilpy continued scrubbing.
“Why is he here?” Dusk asked Hond.
“I do not know, my friend,” Hond replied. He stared coldly at the corpse. “We need to get rid of the body,” he said at last.
“Mestor will kill us,” Dusk replied.
“He can try,” Hond said. “Let them come. We’ll show them what fear and pain is.”
Dusk glanced at Shilpy as if he’d forgotten she was there. He crossed the room and placed his hands on her shoulders. “It would be best if you weren’t here,” he explained. Shilpy pulled away but nodded. He was right. He was always right. She needed to go.
“I . . . I’ll sleep at Denise’s.”
Dusk smiled and turned back to Hond. Shilpy
grabbed her bag and keys, and then she was out the door. Before she knew it, she was running through the streets of Sydney. She was four blocks away before she remembered the sword.
* * *
Shilpy’s hands were still shaking when she stepped off the train a stop before Strathfield. If the Keres Ter Nyx were still watching Denise’s house, she needed to be careful. She caught an Uber to the house behind Denise’s and then slipped through the neighbours’ backyard and to Denise’s back door.
It was a little after eleven when a confused, bleary-eyed Thomas answered the door.
“Shilps?” he said, sounding both pleased and surprised. “You alright? Denise is asleep. What are you doing here? Why did you come around the back?”
“Thomas, do you mind if I sleep here tonight?”
He scratched the back of his head, looking confused. “Of course.” He stepped aside. “You fight with Dusk?”
“Something like that. I just need somewhere to stay.” He led her to the couch. In short order he had sheets and a blanket organised. He didn’t ask any more questions or make small talk, but she could feel his eyes on her the whole time.
Reflexively, she kept checking her white cotton shirt for blood. Or any evidence of Anderson. At least she’d stopped shaking.
Once the bed was made, Thomas wished her pleasant dreams and returned to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Shilpy huddled on the couch for a few minutes, staring into space.
Every time she closed her eyes, the sightless gaze of the dead man lying on the white sheet waited for her.
Yes, she’d been trained to fight, and her upbringing hadn’t been what most people would describe as normal. But she’d never seen a dead body before.
She’d murdered him. She might not have pulled the trigger, but his death was on her. She shouldn’t have tried to change things. Because of her selfishness, Blue Suit was dead.
Shilpy replayed the events over and over in her head. Anderson came at Dusk with a gun. He attacked them in their home. It had been self-defence. Someone had invaded their home and tried to kill them. So why cover it up?
Dusk had been so cold about it all. Like what he’d done was nothing. He and Hond had been so detached—professional. Was that how they operated?
The Gifts of Fate Page 10
