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“I told you I was going to buy you a dress today,” he interrupted. “So let me get this for you.”

“But I . . .” Heather bit her lip.

Poor Heather,
he thought. With him, at least, she never tried to hide her feelings. Ed could practically see the thoughts racing through her brain, as if they were posted on some kind of electronic billboard. (
a
) She didn't want to take advantage of him. (
b
) She really wanted something new. (
c
) She hadn't actually
bought
a new item of clothing in several months. For Heather, that was like going without oxygen.

“Heather, come on,” he prodded. “I insist. It's no big deal.”

And it wasn't. No, sir. Not that Heather had any real idea of Ed's financial status. But he had twenty-six million bucks coming his way. The accident might have robbed him of his legs—but he'd be able to buy as many dresses in as many boutiques as Heather wanted. And that counted for something. Didn't it?

“Okay,” she said finally. She winked. “But I want to figure out a way to pay you back.” She paused dramatically. “An
imaginative
way.”

“Uh . . . s-sounds good,” he stammered. He could feel blood rushing to his face as he rolled to the cash register.
Maybe he wasn't as in control with
her as he would have liked to believe.
But it was always nice to pretend.

THE STUFFED DUFFEL BAG KNOCKED
against Gaia's hip as she headed toward Washington Square Park. The strap dug into her shoulder. But the pain didn't bother her. She was on her way to Sam's dorm room.
Nothing
could bother her.

The Drill

It was closing in on five o'clock, and the sun was long hidden behind the apartment buildings on the West Side. A chilly wind swept through the leafless trees. Gaia picked up her pace. Aside from a few joggers and NYU students, the park was nearly empty. Surprisingly, even the chess tables were deserted. But that was fine with her. Fewer people around meant fewer slow-moving bodies to dodge on her way to meet Sam.

In ten minutes Sam would get out of his last class of the day, and Gaia would meet him in front of his dorm. They would go up to his room. They would be
together.
Again, for the hundredth time that day, she felt like this was happening to someone else, that this couldn't be part of
her
life . . . a life pretty much
defined by misery,
with an occasional ass kicking thrown in
—
doled out by Gaia to various sick and depraved individuals.

Gaia felt a strange stirring deep inside her gut. It wasn't nervousness, exactly. And it sure as hell wasn't fear. But what was it? Her imagination swirled with images of Sam. A smile crept over her lips. And then she knew: It was the feeling a girl got when she was about to go meet her boyfriend, when she didn't know what was going to happen. When the possibilities were literally limitless, when she felt a tingling in certain parts of her body . . .

Her eyes fell on the stone chess tables as she cruised past them.
That's where I met him,
she thought. He'd sat down—right there, right at this very spot—to play a game of pickup chess. It had been one of those defining moments that change everything. She'd hated him from afar, but only because he was so gorgeous.
And then she'd discovered he was an amazing chess player.
Brilliant. But they had never finished the game. Rain started to pour from the sky, and Sam had disappeared—

A faint scrap of conversation tore into her thoughts.

Her head jerked up.
Russian.

Standing by the miniature Arc de Triomphe on the north side of the park was a young couple huddled together, studying an unwieldy map. For a brief
moment Gaia's heart squeezed. Every time she heard the language, she pictured her mother's face. Her mother had taught Gaia her native tongue from the time she was a baby. And Gaia had clung to it, treasuring it as the only real link between her and the woman who had brought her into this world.

The couple glanced up at Gaia as she approached and offered a tentative smile.

Oh, brother.
Gaia sighed, thrusting the thoughts of her mother from her mind. She knew the type: young travelers from abroad, determined to see each and every New York City landmark no matter how low the temperature dropped.
The drill was always the same, too.
They would probably ask her how to get to ten different places, then start off in the exact opposite direction of where Gaia had suggested.

“Hello?” the woman called out, waving.

Now that Gaia was close, she could see that the couple probably wasn't much older than twenty-two. They were scruffy, alternative types, the kind of kids who knew nothing of the States but probably loved watching American MTV.

“Please—you help us, tell us where we go?” the man asked Gaia, gesturing toward the map.

Gaia nodded.
“Zdrastvooytye,”
she said: Russian for “hello.”

The couple's jaws dropped. They exchanged a shocked glance.

Gaia smiled.
Bet you didn't think I could do that, huh?
“Where do you want to go?” she asked, continuing in Russian. It was nice to know her accent was still flawless.

“The Empire State Building,” the woman answered.

“It's easy,” Gaia stated. “Go east to Christopher Street. Take the number-one train to Thirty-fourth Street. . . .” Her voice trailed off as she noticed that both of their expressions were still totally baffled. Obviously they had no idea what she was talking about. She might as well have still been speaking in English.

“See where I'm pointing?” Gaia asked, turning toward Fourth Street.

The woman hovered at Gaia's side, craning her neck to look down the street.
How has this couple managed to get along without running into someone who happens to speak Russian?
Gaia wondered impatiently. Talk about clueless. At this rate she would be late to meet Sam. “Walk toward those benches—”

There was a tugging at her arm. It was hard. Aggressive.

What the hell?

An alarm went off in Gaia's brain. She turned quickly. The Russian guy's hand was gripping the strap of Gaia's messenger bag, and his feet were poised to run. Unbelievable! So the helpless tourist couple apparently weren't quite so helpless. Assholes.
Anger
surged through her veins, along with the electric fizzle she always felt before combat.
Her hand instantly clamped down on the guy's forearm.

“Big mistake, jerk,” Gaia muttered in Russian.

She took a step back with her right foot, then spun to her left with a quick kung fu move that wrenched the guy's arm—painfully.

“Aiee!”
he cried.

His fingers slipped from the strap of the bag. He staggered backward.

Gaia's eyes flashed to the woman.
Damn it.
She wasn't in the mood for a fight. Not now. She had to meet Sam.
She couldn't afford to keel over with exhaustion and wind up face first on the pavement, either.
Fearlessness came with a price: She was always sapped of strength after kicking someone's ass. Hopefully, though, this would be the end of this pathetic attempted mugging.

But it appeared that the couple was a tag team. As soon as the mister was out of range, the missus lunged forward and scratched at Gaia's face.

Instinctively Gaia pivoted and knocked the woman's hand away from her face. Then in one swift motion she kicked the woman in the stomach, sending her toppling to the ground.

Don't complain,
Gaia thought as the woman moaned.
That could have hurt a lot worse.
She fell into
a traditional karate stance, looking from the man to the woman, wondering if they were going to be stupid enough to take one more grab at her bag. Some people were gluttons for punishment. Stupid people. Sure enough, they fit the category. The man sprinted toward Gaia, fists swinging.

It was pitiful. Gaia almost felt like laughing. But she was too pissed off. The stupid ones were always the worst fighters. Gaia stepped sideways. There was no reason to engage him. As she dodged the guy's fists, the force of his own weight made him stumble. He fell toward the ground, and Gaia heard a popping sound in his wrist as he tried to catch himself with his left hand.

Logically, Gaia knew that she should probably feel
some
semblance of fear right now. Sure, she was winning the battle.
Even so, deserted park plus attacking mugger equals fear.
But all she felt was another surge of adrenaline.

“Bitch!” the guy yelled in English, staggering to his feet.

Gaia frowned. There was barely a trace of an accent. Who
were
these people? Did they pretend to be foreigners to get their victims to let their guards down . . . so they could pick on easy prey? Her jaw tightened.
Now she was
more
than pissed.
She glanced toward the woman, who was backing away, obviously slightly smarter than her counterpart. But
the guy was still stumbling toward her. Gaia took aim, then punched the man once in the abdomen. She could hear the breath whooshing out of his lungs. He slumped to the ground, clutching his stomach.

“Let's go!” the woman shrieked.

With a last angry glance the man turned and stumbled toward the east exit of the park. The woman hobbled after him.

Gaia shook her head, scowling. She could feel the exhaustion creeping over her, smothering her like one of those lead blankets people have to wear in an X-ray room. Her knees buckled. Her eyesight dimmed.
Shit!
she thought furiously. Why hadn't the cops been anywhere in sight?
The New York City police department really needed to do something to make this park a safer place.
Gaia seemed to be the only one ready, willing, and able to deal with scumbags. And it was getting a little more than tiresome. Especially now that she had better things to do. Like getting into bed with Sam Moon.

Unfortunately, that would have to wait. Because at that moment Gaia found herself plopping down on her butt. She stared vacantly into space, feeling very much like somebody had just removed her internal batteries.

Soon I'll be out of here,
she thought bitterly.
Soon Oliver will give me a break from all this crap.

 

HE WAS FOND OF THIS NEW PLACE.

The Same DNA

The Upper West Side two bedroom was more modest than the apartments he'd previously used as home base. But he was pleased that there were two Columbia professors living on his floor. Despite his unusual lifestyle, Loki thought of himself as something of an academic. Maybe he would accept the political science professor's invitation to come over for coffee one afternoon. The man would undoubtedly be impressed with Loki's vast knowledge of world affairs.

Loki smiled. Of course he wouldn't accept the invitation. He couldn't afford to interact with outsiders. Loneliness often gave rise to foolish thoughts. But that was all they were: thoughts.
He was far too experienced to let them interfere with his job.
He knew far too well that every single person was a potential enemy—even a man in a tweed jacket and a shabby green turtleneck.

I won't be lonely for much longer, though,
Loki thought.

No. He picked up one of the many untraceable cell phones he kept in his possession and walked to the large picture window on the west side of his living room. His gaze swept out over the Hudson River—across Riverside
Park to the glittering lights of New Jersey. So may people crammed into such a small space. Were any of them as lonely as he was?

Loki punched one of the speed dial buttons. Before the first ring had finished, a German voice answered. “Hello?”

“She's passed her final test,” Loki stated in German. “We are ready to proceed with the plan.”

“Yes, sir. I understand.” “I want everything in place. I want the facility secured. This is
imperative.
We'll be leaving the country within the week.”

“Yes, sir,” the voice on the other end answered again. He sounded bored. “I understand.”

“If anything goes wrong, I will cut you open and make you eat your own intestines before you die,” Loki stated simply.

There was no response.

“Do you understand
that?”
Loki demanded.

“Yes, sir. I—”

Loki hung up the phone. These young operatives disgusted him. Either they didn't give him the proper respect, or they were completely submissive.
Some would shoot themselves in the head if Loki ordered them to do so.
Others, like the fool with whom he'd just spoken, resented him.

But they all feared him. Fear kept them in line.

Soon it will be just the two of us, though.

Yes. Just him and her. Loki and Gaia. No more servants or subordinates. Gaia Moore was the one woman on earth who had the potential to be his equal. She was the daughter of his beloved, Katia. And she was
his.
Half of her very being was made up from Loki's DNA. Tom, Loki's identical twin brother, was Gaia's biological father. But that made no difference. The DNA was the same. Gaia belonged to him in every way that mattered.

And soon they would be together twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Loki would never be lonely again. He was also sure that with time, Gaia would thank him for what he planned to do. Yes. He was positive, in fact.

But the horrible truth was, Mike
hadn't
been responsible for the poison that had entered his bloodstream. He had been a victim of Ella Niven.