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All You Desire

Page 12

by Kirsten Miller


  “How am I supposed to do that?” Haven asked.

  “By pretending to fall in love with him.” Phoebe held up a bony finger, silencing any objections. “I’m aware that it may take some time to convince him. The magos is naturally very suspicious, and he knows he has enemies. But he also has great faith in his own powers of persuasion. Let him think that he’s winning you over little by little. Then, when the moment is right, you will find an excuse to bring him to the first address you visited tonight—the storefront on Lenox Avenue. There was a bank next door for many years. Its vault is still in the basement of the building, and we have prepared a cell for him there. ”

  “No.” Iain wouldn’t hear any more. “Absolutely not. There’s no way I’m going to let this happen. Maybe you’ll trap him for a few decades, but he’ll know Haven was the one who betrayed him. What do you think Adam will do to her when he finally breaks free?”

  Phoebe didn’t demur. Like a diligent lawyer, she had come prepared with answers to every question. “If Haven does her part, there’s no reason to believe that the magos will break free this time. My sisters and I own the buildings on Lenox Avenue. As soon as we give the word, they will both be torn down. The vault will be buried, and a modern apartment building will be erected on the site. There will be no way to get into—or out of—the prison that will hold the magos.”

  “We’re talking about Adam,” Iain reminded her. “He’ll find a way.”

  “I knew you might object to my plan, Mr. Morrow. That’s why I insisted you accompany Haven tonight. I want you to hear her make her choice. And may I remind you—it is her choice to make.”

  “What if he locks you away again?” Iain asked Haven before setting his frustration and anger loose on Phoebe once more. “You have no idea what he’s done to her in the past. He’s imprisoned her for entire lifetimes! He has a cabinet filled with her bodies!”

  “That may well be the case. But why would the magos harm Haven if he believes she’s falling in love with him?” Phoebe countered, her voice still cool and rational. “And remember, all twelve Horae will be watching out for her. We managed to keep Haven safe the last time she was in New York, did we not?”

  Iain fumed. “No,” he said. “Just no.”

  “If Haven’s safety is no longer in question, what is the source of your anxiety, Mr. Morrow?” Phoebe’s question had an edge to it. “Surely you aren’t worried that Haven might actually fall in love with the magos? I suppose he does have his charms.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Haven blurted out. “Iain and I are meant to be together. I couldn’t love anyone else if I tried!”

  “Would you agree, Mr. Morrow?” Phoebe asked.

  “My feelings are none of your business.” Iain glowered.

  “Well, if what Haven says is true, then no one—not even the magos—will be able to come between you two. There should be no cause for concern . . . unless you have reason to question the strength of your bond. Is that the problem? I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Morrow. I’m merely trying to understand.”

  “I’ve already made myself clear,” Iain said. “I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

  “That is true,” Phoebe acknowledged. “But I imagine you’ll need to explain your objections to Haven.”

  “Okay!” Haven broke in. “I know you’re trying to be helpful, Phoebe, but you’ll have to excuse us. Iain, may I speak to you alone?”

  THEY SAT ON the ledge that circled the roof. On the street below, a battered minivan sped through a traffic light, and three police cars gave chase while a helicopter kept watch from above. Its blue searchlight passed over the roofs of nearby buildings, catching lovers, delinquents, and drug dealers in action.

  “We made a big mistake coming here,” Iain said once the cold air had tempered his rage. “The Horae don’t have your best interests at heart. You’re just a pawn. Phoebe will do whatever it takes to win her war against Adam. She won’t hesitate to sacrifice you if she thinks it’s necessary.”

  “I don’t like any of this, either.” Haven kept her voice low. “But unless we can get our hands on some of those weird herbs, I’m going to need Phoebe’s help if I want to see Naddo. And if I do find a clue that could identify him in this life, I might have to contact the Ouroboros Society anyway.”

  “We’ll find another way. Phoebe wants too much. No one should be asked to take such a risk.”

  “I’m willing to risk my life if it means saving Beau.”

  “I know that, Haven. But I’m not sure if I can take the risk that the Horae have asked me to make.”

  “You?” Haven asked.

  “Don’t you see? They’ve asked me to risk losing you. If something happened, I could end up searching for centuries to find you again. You know, Haven, sometimes I think you’re the lucky one. You forget everything each time you’re reborn. But I always remember. Do you have any idea what that’s like? Knowing the person you need is out there—and not being able to find her? It’s torture. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

  Haven kicked the brick ledge with the toe of her shoe and wished there were a simple solution.

  “So what do you think I should do?” she asked Iain. “I can’t sit back and let something terrible happen to Beau. If I didn’t do everything in my power to save him, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. And I don’t think you could live with me, either.”

  “Beau wouldn’t want you to do this for his sake.” Iain was right and Haven knew it.

  “We both know it’s not just about Beau anymore. Whatever Adam has planned for those kids at the Ouroboros Society, it can’t be good. I don’t want them on my conscience, Iain. But if we’re going to save them, you’re going to have to let me deal with Adam. Unless . . .”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless Phoebe was right,” Haven whispered, worried she wouldn’t find the courage to complete the thought. “Are you really worried that I might fall in love with Adam?”

  Iain sighed. “Phoebe’s trying to stir up trouble, Haven. I can’t tell you why, but she is. I’m not worried that you’ll fall in love with Adam. But I don’t think you realize just how dangerous he is. Have you ever wondered why the Ouroboros Society is so successful? Why do you suppose so many people get sucked in?”

  “Most people are greedy and weak.”

  Iain shook his head. “I spent years at the Society. I know more than a few of the members. They’re not all bad. Some of them are actually pretty decent. But they’ve all gotten in over their heads. They’ve found themselves doing things they’d never have believed themselves capable of doing. It starts with one little lie. Or a single bad habit. I knew a nice girl there who was really insecure. She spent all of her points on plastic surgery and ended up delivering drugs to pay off her debts.”

  “But Adam never managed to corrupt you while you were at the OS. What if I’m incorruptible too?”

  “You give me far more credit than I deserve.” Iain leaned over the ledge and examined the drop, as if he were measuring the exact distance to the ground. “I’m far from incorruptible. I’ve done things in the past I’m not proud of. And I’ve been around long enough to know that everyone has their price, even me. But Adam can’t give me what I want. Because all I’ve ever wanted is you.”

  The confession kindled a dozen questions, but Haven knew it was not the time to ask them. Instead, she took Iain by the elbow and turned him to face her. “And all I want is you, and Adam can’t give me that, either. Besides, I know who I’ll be dealing with. I know not to do anything I shouldn’t.”

  “And you think it’s always so easy to tell?” he asked.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “You’re wrong. That’s why Phoebe’s plan is too risky. Especially when we have other options.”

  “What other options?”

  “I met with someone this afternoon while you and Frances were at the spa,” Iain said. “Remember that detective I told you about? Her name is Mia Michalski. I still want to hire he
r to search for Beau.”

  Haven dropped Iain’s hands. “You met with a detective? How do you know her? Are you sure she’s any good?”

  Is she cute? Is she another member of the Iain Morrow fan club? The questions seemed to come out of nowhere. Haven hadn’t felt any jealousy in over a year. She forced the thoughts out of her mind. She wasn’t going to let any useless emotions get in the way of finding Beau.

  “Mia’s our age, but she’s the best detective around. We met a couple of years ago at the Ouroboros Society. She’s not an active member anymore, but she won’t laugh if the subject of reincarnation comes up.”

  “Then great.” Haven tried to sound pleased. “I officially welcome Mia Michalski to the team. When does she want to meet with me?”

  “She doesn’t need to meet you,” Iain replied.

  “What? But I’m the one who knows everything about Beau!”

  “Mia’s too young for a private investigator’s license, so she does almost all of her work online. She told me she has enough information about Beau to get started. I’ll call her tonight and let her know that we’re moving forward full steam. So does this mean you’ll tell Phoebe no?”

  He sounded so optimistic, and Haven hated to dash his hopes. “I’m sorry, Iain. I have to say yes. Just think about the students at Halcyon Hall! Can you imagine what’s being done to them? And even if your detective friend finds Beau, there’s nothing she can do to shut the school down. It’s up to me to find some way to save all those kids!”

  “But why do you have to do it all on your own? Why won’t you let me help you?”

  “You will help me! You’ll come to every meeting I have with the Horae. You’ll hire your detective to look for Beau. You’ll give me advice. The only thing I have to do on my own is see Adam!”

  Iain studied Haven’s face. “You’re not frightened of him, are you?”

  “I’m scared. But I’m not scared of Adam anymore.”

  “Why not? You should be.”

  “Because I don’t think Adam will hurt me. And because I know that nothing’s ever going to take me away from you.”

  “Do you swear?” Iain was serious, but Haven wanted to laugh. It was the most ridiculous question she’d ever heard.

  “I swear.” She lifted herself up on her toes and kissed him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  A dozen little heads were bobbing around the bland waiting room of the Ouroboros Society. Haven stood for a moment and watched the children busy themselves while they waited to be called in for their interviews. There were a few rowdy types, a couple of studious kids, and a handful who merely looked bored out of their minds. But none seemed particularly noteworthy. Haven wondered which, if any, would be invited to join the Society. And what might happen to those who accepted the invitation.

  “Excuse me? Excuse me, miss?” The receptionist’s voice was grating, borderline rude.

  “What?” Haven spun around to face the weasel-like man who was waiting behind her with a clipboard pressed to his chest. “Yes?” she tried again with a softer voice and a smile. She’d felt jittery all morning. An attack of nerves during the drive downtown had almost made Haven lose her breakfast in the back of the cab.

  “Do you have an . . .” The receptionist’s words trailed off as Haven removed her hat. She put her hand to her hair. It must look awful, she thought, if it had the power to render someone speechless. “Oh. It’s you,” the man added in a reverent tone. Haven peered over her shoulder, certain he was addressing someone else. But the only person behind her was a nine-year-old boy who’d escaped from his keepers and was making a run for the door.

  “Jeremiah!” A woman sprinted after the kid and caught him before he could flee the building.

  “Do you know me?” Haven asked the receptionist.

  The man grimaced nervously and fumbled with his clipboard. “Please wait here, Miss Moore,” he almost begged. “I’ll only be a moment.”

  Haven watched as the receptionist hurried back to his desk to use the phone. She couldn’t make out his words, but their effect was immediate. Haven heard a door open on the second floor and the sound of footsteps on the stairs. In less than a minute, Adam Rosier was standing in front of her. He was wearing the chunky black glasses he favored, along with slim black pants and a sweater. The outfit looked casual, cool, and astronomically expensive.

  “Haven, you’re back!” Adam exclaimed with a smile that was a little too broad. Otherwise there was nothing about his handsome face that suggested he might be anything other than human. It was hard to believe that this could be the monster Phoebe called the magos—the one responsible for countless deaths, disasters, and random acts of cruelty.

  “I am.” Haven’s mind was already feeling a bit hazy in his presence. She struggled to remember the script she’d practiced. “I need to talk to you. I need your help.”

  “Certainly,” Adam replied. “Shall we take a walk? I could use some fresh air.”

  “Yes,” Haven agreed, hoping the cold could keep her alert. “Let’s do that.”

  As they made their way toward the door, the little boy who’d tried to escape broke loose again from his mother’s grip. With a lightning-fast movement of his arm, Adam snatched the back of the boy’s sweater as he passed, bringing the child to a sudden halt.

  “Hello.” Adam kneeled down to face the stunned little boy. “Where are you off to?” Coming from most adults, the question would have sounded patronizing. Adam, however, seemed genuinely interested.

  “Outside.” The mesmerized child breathed in great gulps of oxygen, but his eyes never left Adam’s face.

  “Thank you so much for catching my son!” The boy’s embarrassed mother had arrived on the scene. She was older than most of the other parents, with the air and the outfit of a woman who’d once been accustomed to success. It had taken a child to finally humble her. “Jeremiah has gotten to be such a terror these days!”

  “No trouble at all.” Adam didn’t look up at the woman. He only had time for the boy. “And what’s outside that you want to see?” he asked the child.

  “Birds,” said the little boy. His breathing had slowed and he even smiled, grateful to finally find someone who was willing to take him seriously. “I think I spotted a black-legged kittiwake in the park. They’re really rare, you know.”

  “I see. Have you always been interested in watching birds, Jeremiah?”

  The boy’s mother opened her mouth to speak, but Adam raised a single finger to his lips.

  “Jeremiah?” Adam probed.

  “Watching birds helps me relax.”

  “Your life must be very stressful, then?”

  Haven almost laughed until she realized it wasn’t a joke.

  A dark cloud passed over the boy’s face. “I used to work as a biological engineer at . . .” He stopped briefly and his brow furrowed as if he were straining to remember. “At some school in Boston.”

  “You didn’t care for your job?”

  “I wanted to do something good. But they used everything I invented to hurt people or to make billionaires even richer.”

  “Ah. I understand. That would be stressful, wouldn’t it? Then what do you say we get your interview over with quickly so you can go outside and see your rara avis?” Adam stood up and signaled to the receptionist. “Let’s move Jeremiah up to the top of the waiting list,” he said to the officious man who’d rushed over.

  “Really? Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Anyone watching Jeremiah’s mother gush would have thought her son had just won the lottery.

  “No, thank you, madame,” Adam said, grabbing his coat from a hook near the door. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of your son here. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” He opened the front door of the Society and stepped aside to let Haven pass. “What do you say you and I go sneak a peek at that black-legged kittiwake?”

  Outside on the stoop of the Ouroboros Society, Haven paused to survey Gramercy Park. As usual, its paths were empty and its
benches deserted. The private garden was surrounded by a wrought-iron fence that had protected it from New York’s rabble for more than 150 years. At the center of the enclosure stood a statue of Edwin Booth, an actor whose brother had murdered Abraham Lincoln. He looked cold and lonely, trapped for eternity in his landscaped cage. Haven had visited the statue in two separate lives, and she had hoped to never see him again.

  When Adam reached the bottom of the stairs, he stopped to wait for his guest. “We don’t have to visit the park. Would you prefer to go elsewhere?”

  Haven hesitated. The last time she’d set foot in Gramercy Park, it had been summer in New York. The flowers had been blooming and the trees still leafy and green. She’d watched passersby stop outside the park’s gates and gaze through the bars at the beauty they were only allowed to admire from a distance. Now no one seemed eager to enter the icy, desolate space.

  “No,” Haven said, forcing herself down the stairs. “The park will be fine.”

  Across the street, Adam opened the gate with a key that he took from his pocket. Inside, they walked in silence, the gravel crunching under their feet.

  “That ring you’re wearing—it’s lovely,” Adam remarked. “I haven’t seen one like it in many years. It must be an antique. Am I right?”

  There couldn’t have been a worse way to start. She should have removed the ring Iain had given her. Haven commanded her lungs to keep breathing.

  “That’s what they told me in the shop,” she said. She found her gloves in her coat pocket and pulled them on. “I probably paid way too much for it, though.”

  “It was worth any price,” Adam said. “The stone is the same color as your eyes.”

  “Thank you . . .” Haven searched for another topic of conversation. “So when did the Society start recruiting children?” She winced. The question felt forced and awkward.

  “About ten years ago,” Adam told her. “It makes perfect sense, wouldn’t you say? I’m surprised I didn’t think of it earlier. Childhood is when most people are able to recall their previous lives. They often lose those memories as they grow older. It’s best to record their stories before they forget.”

 

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