Gravity (14 page)

“Really, Justus, you don’t have to hang around here and fuss over me. The medicine you gave

me really helped.” Page surged forward and sneezed in her hand three times. “Sorry,” she

grumbled, hating the sound of her weak voice.

“Do you need more medicine?” He sat on the edge of a leather chair that wasn’t one of her

favorites, but most of her clients felt comfortable sitting there when they visited her home on rare

occasions.

What she really needed was to blow her nose, but no way was she going to do that in front of

him.

“No man looks after you?”

The steady sound of a clock ticking in the kitchen ate up the silence.

“Um…” She cleared her throat a few times and sniffed. “I don’t need a man to take care of me;

I’m not an invalid.”

“So you keep pointing out. I didn’t ask if you needed one, I asked if you had one.”

Page shivered and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. A sudden blast of heat touched her

face and settled into the blanket.

“Are you doing that?” The sensation felt similar to heat wafting out of an open oven.

He nodded.

“Handy little gift you got there.” Page didn’t have many Mage clients, and their gifts never

ceased to amaze her.

A pounding at the front door crushed the silence.

Justus stood up and looked like the Rock of Gibraltar. “Are you expecting anyone?”

“No, but if it’s not my landlord then it’s probably Slater. He’s the only one with a key to get in

the building. I might as well get this over with, so go ahead and let him inside. Please keep it civil;

I’m not feeling well enough to break up a fight.”

“On my word.” Justus crossed the room and reached for the latch on the front door.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Page!” Slater shouldered by Justus and cut through the

living room to stand on the other side of the coffee table. “Well isn’t this just cozy,” he said,

shredding her apart with his hostile eyes.

Page recoiled and sat up straight. “Slater, did you pick up my appointments?”

“You bet the hell I did. Why didn’t you call? Oh wait, I see… you’ve been busy.” He emphasized

every syllable of the last word with sexual innuendo.

“Slater, I’m going to put in a request for a new partner. You’ve grown too volatile and frankly,

just a little too possessive. We can talk out the details on the phone later tonight, after I’ve had

some rest and a shower. Let’s not have this discussion in front of company.”

“Is that what you’re calling it these days? Company?” Slater laughed and rubbed the palm of

his hand over the scruffy beard on his chin. “I’ve pursued you for eight years, and you fuck the

first guy who comes along.”

Justus stepped forward until he was nose to nose with Slater. He moved so deliberately and

slowly it made her nervous.

“You got a problem, Mage? You should be careful not to put your dick in other people’s

business.”

Justus curled his hands into solid fists but kept them at his side. She cleared her throat to

remind him of his promise.

“Slater, I don’t want any trouble. Just leave the key on the table as you go. This has been years

in the making, but no one will ever lay a hand on me twice. We’re going to have to split our

clientele, so I’ll contact them to put in their formal request with our Council. Call me later and

when we’re done hashing out the details, I want a clean break. That means you don’t contact me

anymore. We’re done.”

“Over one fight,” he said smoothly.

Page lost it and her voice cracked as she screamed at him. “You hit me! Do you think I want to

take a chance of you doing that again—or worse? I can’t even believe you would stand there like it

means nothing.”

Justus positioned himself between her and Slater, who rocked on his heels as if he might make

a sudden move. She almost wanted him to because she was within arm’s reach of a very heavy

candy dish that she’d never liked anyway.

“You heard the lady, get out,” Justus said in an authoritative voice. “ Now. Drop the key and

leave the premises. I’m an official member of HALO, and I’ll report any trouble. There’s not going

to be any trouble though, is there?”

Slater wasn’t winning this battle, so he slapped the key down on the table in a pissed-off

fashion and stalked toward the door. “It’s not over, Page. We’re not finished with this by a mile.”

Chapter 11

I couldn’t process everything Tarek had thrown at me, and as a result, I broke a date with

Logan with some lame excuse that I wanted to study.

Saturday rolled around uneventfully, and I hopped into the passenger seat of Simon’s Maserati.

As the interior light went out, I caught a glimpse of Simon and opened my door back up. He

sighed dramatically and dared me with his eyes to say something. I wasn’t quite sure exactly how

to broach the topic.

“Simon, you have a penis on your head.”

I stared in astonishment at a tattoo that ran straight up his forehead to his hairline. Realistic

and impressive, albeit not that endowed.

“I lost a bet.”

I shut the door and smiled. “I don’t know—that looks like a win to me.”

He scraped his hair over his eyes. “I knew I should have worn the bloody hat.”

“It’s not permanent, is it?”

He snorted. “My body will absorb it within a week.”

“That’s what she said?”

Simon’s contagious hyena laugh filled the car and he cranked on his stereo. “Perhaps the ladies

will see that I actually think with the right head.”

When he grinned, I poked my finger in his dimple and he tried to bite it.

“You’re going to get yourself in trouble with that dimple someday, Simon.”

His car growled like an angry dog, and he shot me a wink.

“I’m counting on it.”

It took us two hours to drive to the lab and we arrived thirty minutes before the last person

closed up for the night. Simon wanted to make sure they had left the facility and kept to their

routine. The windowless building had two concrete steps that led to the main door. We parked the

car across the street to wait it out. I debated for a long time whether or not to tell Simon about my

situation, but I’d catch shadows moving around outside and get second thoughts. I was certain

Tarek had put a man on me—and probably the Vampire that tangled with Christian. If so, nothing

I’d tell him would be private as Vampires have a keen sense of hearing.

Simon texted a few messages to Knox and cracked up laughing. Meanwhile, I looked through

his glove compartment and found useful items like a dagger, adult magazine, leather conditioner,

cotton balls, Sensor lollipops, and a map of the Grand Canyon.

Simon was so random.

“You know, that’s a really annoying habit you have,” I said to Simon as he popped his jaw.

“One of these days it might come unhinged.”

“Only if you start wearing latex. Don’t believe all those wives’ tales. I can also tell you that you

will not go blind from repeated—”

“Look, they’re leaving,” I interrupted, turning the radio down. “Are you sure the third guy isn’t

a Vampire?”

“If he is, then he’s a ninny for not confronting me on more than one occasion when I’ve been

on my stakeout.” Simon snorted. “Now I think I know where that term derived from.”

A man in an oversized coat turned away from the door and walked to his car. He was a shadow

moving through the darkness, face obscured and of average height. Moments later—after a

sputter of smoke coughed out of his exhaust pipe—he drove away.

“Like clockwork,” Simon sang, hopping out of the car. He skidded on his left foot and made a

quick recovery.

“Don’t you have snow boots? I asked, looking down at his tattered brown shoes straight out of

Oliver Twist.

“Love, unless he’s climbing Mt. Everest, a grown man wearing snow boots should be shot on

sight.”

At least my cute tan boots were water resistant and had good tread. Simon’s shoes were

comfortable for flashing, but I didn’t think he’d get far on ice. His brown hair was tousled and

gelled, like he’d been standing in the rain and just ran his fingers through it.

“Are you sure we weren’t followed?”

“Only by your fangtastic sweetheart sitting on his three-speed up the road,” he said, jerking his

thumb back at Christian’s motorcycle. I snorted because it sounded like he said sweethot. Simon

didn’t trust Vampires, evident by the aviators perched on the bridge of his nose.

“Are those necessary?” I said, glaring up at him. “You look ridiculous; he’s not coming in, so

you can take those off.”

Simon reluctantly tucked them inside the pocket of his leather jacket. “Have you been

practicing?” he asked as we approached the door.

“Yeah, but…” I gave him a worried look and brushed my hair away from my face. “I’m not

skilled.”

“Need I remind you of the sword?”

“Lifting that out of Justus was sheer luck. I have more control over objects I can see—this is

different.”

“No time, love. We need to hurry before the energy on the door evaporates. Give it a go.”

I removed my gloves and dropped to my knees, trying to avoid looking up at Simon because I

knew he wanted to make a joke. The flat of my hands touched the door, and almost immediately,

the tips of my fingers tickled as the energy from two places on the other side of the door crackled.

I’d never done anything as intricate as manipulating energy to move in specific directions. While

I’d practiced at home, the locks weren’t the same.

I focused my energy and rotated my wrist clockwise before realizing that I was thinking

backward, so I turned it the other way.

A metal click caused Simon to stir.

“Bravo!” he whispered excitedly. “Is that it?”

“No, there’s one more. This one’s… different. I can’t tell what kind of lock it is, so I’m not sure

how to focus.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Simon, what if I can’t do it? Novis is expecting me to

complete this task.”

“Then we have four hours to kill. Got any ideas?” He rested his hands on my shoulders and

sensually massaged them.

“Get your hands off me, Simon. It’s distracting.”

“Now you know why the ladies go for the Hunt.”

I turned my eyes on him like a shark. “Your energy leaking all over me isn’t exactly helping.”

He stepped back and after several long seconds, there were a few more clicks and a slide. My

shoulders sagged as that level of concentration was the equivalent of lifting a boulder.

“Okay, try it,” I said, out of breath.

I stood anxiously as Simon opened the door. “Atta girl!” he praised me with a hug. We stepped

inside and closed the door behind us.

“Smells like my sock drawer,” Simon muttered in disgust.

It looked like a doctor’s office with maroon chairs along the left wall and front desk. Below our

feet, a green carpet full of stains carried a heavy aroma of mildew.

We hurried through a second door and my mouth hung agape at what I saw. The spacious

room had been gutted of its interior walls. Three metal tables with straps hanging from the sides

filled one side of the room. White curtains divided the room into sections—the kind that slide along

the tracks like you see at hospitals. Someone put a lot of money into this place based on the

computers, microscopes, and lab equipment on the left.

Simon began with the file drawer. Since my job was to get us in, I stayed out of the way and

looked over the setup. The tables had restraints and I wondered if the inseminations still went on

and if so, how voluntary they were.

At the end of the hour, Simon had begun taking photographs. A white refrigerator with

biohazard stickers on it snagged my attention, only the contents were not edible unless you were a

Vampire. Vials of blood filled the shelves along with unidentifiable liquids. A sports fan had placed a

basketball decal on the fridge door.

“I wonder what all this is used for,” I said, staring at a cabinet filled with tiny bottles—the kind

that doctors used to extract medicine for their injections. I opened the fridge and peered in again.

The vials were numbered, but not all of them.

“Simon, you should take a few pictures inside here.”

He nudged me out of the way and finished up the job.

***

Simon talked a mile a minute when we got home. He and Justus went into the study for a

satellite conference with Novis to schedule a private meeting. Simon believed that computer

connections could be compromised, so he didn’t want to take any chances discussing their findings

over the Internet.

I wandered into the control room hidden in our hallway and watched the monitors. Not a

shadow stirred in the misty, dense woods. I jumped when a man with a long black coat suddenly

stepped into the frame. Christian stood very still, watching the camera. It was eerie, as if he were

looking right at me, so I leaned in closer.

“What the hell are you doing, Christian?” I whispered.

A smile relaxed his face and he lifted his hand and curled his finger in a come here movement.