Anew: Book Three: Entwined (2 page)

I bend closer, straining to hear.
It comes again. A moan, just barely audible but unmistakable all the same.

“Something’s wrong,” I say at once.
“He’s in pain. You have to do something.”

 “He shouldn’t be,” Doctor Rosen
replies. He checks the flow of medication into Ian’s arm. “We have him on
sufficient pain meds. He should be comfortable.”

“Well, obviously he isn’t,” I snap.
The thought of him suffering is unbearable. Panic swells in me again. I can’t
give in to it. If I do, I won’t be of any help to him.

“Really, he shouldn’t be feeling--”
the doctor says.

Ian’s eyelids flutter. My breath
catches. Slowly, they open. For a moment, his amber gaze is unfocused but
almost instantly I know that he sees me.

“Amelia,” he murmurs. My name,
nothing more, but it’s enough. He’s back. Ian is back! Joy fills me.

“Babe…” His voice is little more
than a croak. I can barely hear him. “Are you all right?” he asks.

Me? Am I all right? That’s what he
wants to know? Not if he’s all right or what’s happening or anything else? I
want to shout at him for being such a fool, not caring more about how close he
came to being killed.

Instead, I clasp his hand and say,
“I’m fine. And you will be, too. But you’ve been hurt and you need to rest. All
right?”

“Yeah…all right…” He sounds
puzzled, as though he isn’t sure what’s going on. His hand tightens on mine.
“Stay here, okay?”

My throat thickens. “Of course,
right here. I won’t leave you.”

A sigh of relief escapes him. His
eyelids droop, flutter, and are still. “Amelia,” he murmurs again but far more
calmly. A moment later, he slips into a deep sleep.

I let my breath out slowly. Careful
not to disturb him, I touch my lips to the back of his hand. His skin feels
warmer and his color is better. A tiny kernel of hope takes root inside me. It
grows during the next few hours as I keep watch over him.

The medics remain nearby but I’m
aware that they’ve begun to relax at least a little. Daphne comes in several
times to check on us both. I manage a reassuring smile for her. Hollis comes as
well. For him, I have a question, the only one that really matters as far as
I’m concerned.

“Do we know who did this?”

“It’s hard to say for sure. The
Municipal Protection Services stood down immediately after the drone launched.
They made no attempt to stop us from leaving.” He pauses for a moment, his face
grim. “On the other hand, it was their commander who got Ian to step in front
of that camera. It could be a coincidence or it could have been a deliberate
effort to put him in the kill zone.”

“What about Davos?” I ask. Even
saying his name makes me feel ill but I have to know. “Has his body been
found?”

Hollis shakes his head. “Not yet.”
He looks at me carefully. “Ian told me that Charles Davos was responsible for
kidnapping you and that he tried to prevent you and Ian from escaping. As our
men approached, he chose to drown himself rather than be captured and held to
account for his crimes. Numerous people saw him go into the water.”

I have a quick, shuddering memory
of the silver-haired monster throwing himself into the centuries-old aqueduct
that still flows under the city. By all rights, he should be dead. But if he is,
where is the proof?

“The scavengers may have taken his
body,” I say. They certainly showed a willingness to fight. The ruling elite
have nothing but contempt for society’s throwaways. It occurs to me that the
day may be coming when they will fear them instead.

“If they did do that,” Hollis
replies, “we’ll find out.”

“I hope so. Davos said something
right at the end, just before he went into the water. He said that Ian had no
idea what he was unleashing.”

The colonel frowns. With absolute
certainty, he says, “Davos had powerful allies in the city but we’ve recently
been able to identify them. We’ll get to the bottom of whoever carried out the
attack on Ian and respond appropriately. You have nothing to worry about.”

His reassurance chaffs at me. I
don’t want to be comforted or placated. I want the hard truth and-- With a
start, I realize that I want more. I want vengeance. That’s not an emotion I’ve
experienced in the still brief time since I awakened into the world. It takes
me aback even as I accept it.

All the same, I realize that Hollis
doesn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of my anger. Quietly, I say, “What
about Ian’s family and mine? Are they in danger?”

“I’ve been in touch with your
brother. He’s receiving constant updates on the situation and he’s taking
appropriate precautions.”

I nod, concerned for Edward and my
grandmother, Adele but also well aware that they are each in their own way
formidable figures in the city with ample resources to protect themselves.
“What about Helene and Marianne Slade?” I ask.

“As part of the protocol that Ian
put in place, his mother and sister have gone to his estate north of the city which,
as I believe you know, is heavily guarded. They’ll stay there until this matter
is resolved.”

I recall my own encounter with some
of the men who guard Ian’s palazzo and flush. I ran from him then, fleeing both
the emotions he evoked and the shattering truth he revealed about how we came
to be together. How quickly things have changed. Now all I want to do is hold
tight to him.

“Will it be much longer before we get
to--what did you call it--the compound?”

I’ve lost track of how long we’ve
been in the air but we are traveling by supersonic jet. At the speeds it’s
capable of, it can’t take more than a few hours to get anywhere on the planet.

“We’d be there by now,” Hollis says,
“but we’ve followed an evasive course to avoid detection. No one outside of
Slade Enterprises knows about the existence of the compound.” With grim
satisfaction, he adds, “If Davos’ allies did, they’d be a whole lot more
worried about what they’ve really unleashed.”

I nod but all I really care about
is the quality of the medical facilities. I’m envisioning a spartan military
compound in austere surroundings. That’s fine so long as Ian gets what he needs
and we can be together. But an hour later, as we complete our descent over a
vast expanse of deep blue water and I catch my first glimpse of our
destination, I realize that we’ve come to a place unlike any I could ever have
imagined.

Amelia

W
e are flying over an immense coral atoll surrounded
by small islands that stand like sentinels keeping watch off shore. On the
ocean side, steep walls of jagged reefs are washed by high waves. The hollow
interior of the atoll, the collapsed remnant of an ancient volcano, encloses an
azure lagoon dotted with pristine beaches shaded by palm trees.

The plane banks and I see the
straight black ribbon of a landing strip. Nearby are clusters of low buildings
with tiled roofs, structures that seem to rise almost organically out of their
surroundings rather than impose themselves on it. Sunlight glitters off them
and off the nearby water. Were it not for the fighter jets breaking off their
escort as we prepare to land, we could be arriving at a secluded resort.

Our touchdown is flawless. Before I
can do much more than draw a breath, the doors of the aircraft are thrown open.
Rich, moist air perfumed with the scents of tropical foliage and the salt tang
of the ocean rushes in. At once, my head clears. I follow quickly as Ian is
carried from the plane to a nearby vehicle. The ride to one of the buildings
barely takes minutes. At once, he is surrounded by medical personnel and
carried inside. I’m about to follow when a tall woman with gleaming ebony skin
and a no-nonsense air stops me.

“How are you holding up?” Gab asks.
She looks genuinely concerned.

I’m surprised to see Ian’s head of
cyber-intelligence since she wasn’t on the plane that brought us but a quick
glance back at the landing strip reveals several other aircraft parked nearby.
Another is coming in for a landing even as we speak. Apparently, more of Ian’s
people than I realized have evacuated to the compound.

“I’m fine,” I say, distracted. All
I can think of is catching up with him.

“That’s good,” Gab replies. “But
you’ve been through a terrible experience. How about you get something to eat
and some rest?”

From the position of the sun, I
guess that it’s almost mid-day. It was night in Manhattan when we left but we
were only in the air for a few hours. Clearly, we’re in a very different time
zone. Jet lag heightens my sense of exhaustion but I can’t give into it.

“I’m going to stay with Ian.”

“Sure,” Gab says. “But the doctors
here will be checking him out for awhile yet.” Her look softens. “You have to
take care of yourself, Amelia, if you want to be able to take care of him.”

She’s right, of course. Even so, I
say, “I honestly don’t think that I can eat.”

“Let’s get you settled, then we’ll
see about that.” She points in the direction of a dock that juts out into the
lagoon not far from where we are standing. A motorboat is waiting beside it.
“This way.”

A spurt of panic goes through me at
the thought of being any distance from Ian. “Wait, where are we going?”

“The boss has a place on the other
side of the lagoon.” When I still hesitate, she says gently, “It’s where he’d
want you to stay. But if you decide that you want to bunk in with him instead
until the doctors release him, that’s between the two of you.”

Damn straight it is. If Ian thinks
for a moment that I’m going to remain a half-mile or more away while he
recovers, he needs his head examined on top of everything else.

Still, I have to admit that I don’t
relish the idea of doing nothing for the next hour or so except wait, pace, and
worry. Being somewhere that he has been, I’ll at least feel a little closer to
him. It occurs to me that I may even gain some further insight into his complex
nature. I’ve met the dark prince of the palazzo, the brilliant entrepreneur of
Pinnacle House, and the warm, open man who took me to his family’s ancestral
homestead on Long Island. But in many ways he remains a puzzle that I am
irresistibly drawn to solve.

“All right,” I say. “Let’s go but I
want to be back by the time the doctors are done.”

Gab looks relieved that I’ve given
in. Within minutes, we’re skimming across the lagoon, the blue-green water
churned by the action of the boat’s powerful motor. She shuts it off a short
distance from a dock on the other side and lets us drift in. The scene ahead is
idyllic. Pink sand fronts the lagoon, lapped by tiny waves. I catch a glimpse
of colorful fish swimming in the shallows near the shore. Palm fronds rustle
gently in the sea breeze.

“This way,” she says as we leave
the boat. My feet--still bare--sink into the warm sand. I smell the sweet,
subtle perfume of wild gardenias and bougainvillea.

A narrow path leads from the beach
to a rustic wooden staircase that zigzags its way up to the crest of the reef.
On top is what appears at first glance to be a small house overlooking the
lagoon on one side and the ocean on the other. It’s Japanese in style with a
tiled sloping roof and sliding exterior walls that stand open to admit the sea
breeze.

A woman in a simple, dark kimono is
waiting at the top of the stairs. Slender and fine-boned, she could be any age
from mid-twenties to forties. Her almond-shaped eyes are a rich, warm brown,
her ebony hair is arranged in a sleek coif at the nape of her neck, and her
skin looks like porcelain. I can’t help but notice that for all the austerity
of her dress, she is strikingly beautiful.

She bows from the waist and smiles
as we approach. “
Kon'nichiwa
, Miss McClellan. I am Hamako. I am pleased
to welcome you.”

Her presence stirs my curiosity. B
incline my head and smile in return. “Thank you, Hamako. You are--?”

“Mister Ian’s housekeeper here.
Please allow me to see to your comfort.”

Before I can reply, Gab says, “I
have to get back but I’ll send the boat for you in about an hour, all right?”

Still looking at Hamako, I say, “Sooner
than that, please, if the doctors finish early.”

“Of course.” Gab nods to us both
and disappears back down the staircase.

Left alone with the woman who
regards me with steady courtesy, I say, “I don’t want to put you to any
trouble.”

“Not at all. You must be weary.
Please allow me to offer you refreshment and then perhaps you would like to see
the house?”

I’m more interested in the second,
although I would prefer to explore alone. All the same, I say, “That would be
very nice, thank you.”

I pause for a moment as we step inside.
The simple but appealing interior is minimally furnished with low tables and a
seating area that is mainly cushions. The colors are muted, the materials all
natural wood, bamboo, and silk. Sliding walls on both sides stand open to
reveal stunning water views.

My eyes fall on the small number of
items that stand out amid the otherwise austere design of the room. A teak
display stand holds two swords, one long and one short, that I recognize as the
weapons carried by samurai. Nearby, a small case holds exquisite works of jade.
Before I can examine them further, I’m distracted by the magnificent suit of
armor on a stand near the windows that overlook the ocean. Made of iron plates
embossed with a hammered design and laced together with leather, the armor looks
more like a work of art than a weapon of war.

Hamako leaves me for a few minutes.
She returns carrying a lacquered tray that she sets on a low table. “I have
prepared miso soup, seaweed salad, and a small portion of grilled fish. But if
there is something else you would like--”

“That sounds perfect.” To my
surprise, I’m suddenly hungry. The light but delicious meal is just what I
need. Hamako sits with me as I eat, her legs folded under her and her hands
resting on her knees. She looks the very picture of demure grace.

Something sharp, green, and unpleasant
stirs in me.

“Have you known Ian--Mister
Slade--for long?” I ask.

“A few years. My husband, Takashi
is head of martial arts instruction here. We have only one child, a son who is
grown. I like to keep busy so I am happy to look after this house.”

The green monster slinks away,
properly ashamed of itself. I suspect that Hamako guessed the direction of my
thoughts and spoke to put me at ease. Beneath her imperturbable demeanor, I
sense that she is amused by me. I can’t really blame her for that.

“It’s a beautiful place,” I say
sincerely. “But with everything that’s happened, I don’t actually know where I
am. Apart, of course, from the obvious fact that we’re surrounded by water.”

Hamako lifts a hand to her mouth as
she laughs softly. She manages to make the gesture look charming rather than
mocking. “We are on an atoll in the Indian Ocean. The nearest landfall is
thousands of miles to the west on the island of Madagascar, off the east coast
of Africa.”

As I absorb the reality of how far
we are from civilization, I ask, “Do you know why Ian has a base in such a
remote location?”

She shrugs lightly. “What is remote
these days? You reached here in just a few hours, did you not? Similarly,
forces from here can be dispersed to Africa, Asia, or farther afield very
quickly.” She casts me a shrewd look. “Yet I believe that satellite
surveillance is still very spotty in this area and is easily disrupted.”

Ian’s intent suddenly becomes clear
as does the depth of his strategic thinking. Anyone looking at Pinnacle House
could be excused for thinking it the sum of his ambitions but they would be
mistaken. He has planned for a world where he needs to be able to operate from
concealment, striking swiftly with lethal effect.

I consider that as I finish eating.
By the time I do, I’m feeling less tired and eager to see more of my
surroundings.

“You mentioned showing me the
house,” I say.

Hamako gets to her feet with
seemingly effortless grace. I entertain the thought that she has trained as a
dancer. As she leads me through a series of rooms, I realize that the house is
not as small as I thought at first. Two wings descend from the main building
down the ocean side of the reef. One contains guest accommodations. The other
is entirely devoted to a spacious master suite that looks out over the ocean.

The bedroom is large and dominated
by a bed with head and footboards that look carved from massive pieces of
driftwood. Set apart but flowing directly from it is an austerely beautiful
space furnished only with woven tatami mats and a platform facing a wall-sized
circular window that frames an expanse of ocean and sky. I imagine that it
could be used as a study or as a place for meditation.

Nearby, adjacent to the bedroom is
a large western-style bathroom with a sunken tub that I carefully steer around
and a spacious shower. Next to it is a walk-in closet that I see already
contains clothing that must belong to Ian. But interspersed among them are
neatly folded lengths of colorful material.

“Sarongs,” Hamako says as I touch
one tentatively. “Mister Slade ordered them for you several weeks ago. I
believe he intended to bring you here under happier circumstances.”

My chest is tight. I force myself
to take a deep breath as I continue touching the fabric. It’s soft and smooth
under my fingers.

“There are also several kimonos,”
Hamako says.

I glance at them and nod. “They’re
very beautiful, as is all of this. But I need to get back to Ian.”

She bows and says, “Of course.
Would you like me to call for the boat?”

I’m about to ask her to do so when
I hear the thrum of the motor approaching from across the lagoon. My heart
leaps as I realize that it hasn’t been an hour yet. The doctors must have
finished early. That’s good news…or not.