Love Charms (17 page)

Annie
turned the crank, again and again, until her arm grew sore. When Virgil lifted
the lid and removed the comb, it was mostly empty, and the honey remained on
the inside walls of the container. Virgil pulled a tiny jar out of a box on the
floor and set it on the table with a funnel.

“I’ll
put this back.” He nodded toward the hive. “You pour the honey.”

Annie
took off her veiled hood and poured, watching the thick, golden syrup fill the
small jar. Virgil helped her scrape the sides of the container and funnel with
a little rubber spatula. As she put a lid on it, she realized the jar was only
half-filled. She estimated that it was an ounce or two of honey at most.

“It’s
a lot of work for a little bit of honey,” she remarked, feeling the stickiness
of honey on her hands.

Virgil
nodded. “One bee makes about a twelfth of a teaspoon of honey in his lifetime.
It takes a lot of bees.”

“Wow!
That’s teamwork!”

Virgil
swept some honey off the spatula and held his finger out to her. “Taste.”

Annie
hesitated, realizing the intimacy of the act. Looking at him, she realized he
did too. His eyes were dark, inviting. She extended her tongue, licking the
sticky liquid off the tip of his finger. She groaned, instantly reaching her
tongue out for more and sucking it off.

Virgil
smiled, nodding. “Worth the risk, isn’t it?” He put his own finger into his
mouth to taste and Annie watched, flushing.

She
licked her own sticky fingers. “I can’t believe how good that is!”

He
gave her a moist towel for her hands. “Nothing like the honey you buy in
stores, is it?”

“I’ve
never tasted anything like it!”

Annie
glanced at Virgil and saw a warm, intense look in his eyes, one she often
received from men. She swallowed hard.

“Ah,”
he said. “I have one more thing to share with you before you go. Come down to
my apartment.”

Annie
left the veil and goggles and followed him outside where the bees were buzzing
busily and the breeze felt cool compared to the air of the greenhouse. They
took the stairs down one flight, and he led her into his apartment, which
consisted of the entire top floor of the building. Annie stopped in the
doorway, aghast at the view of the city from his windows.

Intent
on sending a clear message, Annie stayed near the door and waited while he went
to the kitchen.

“Honey
cake,” he said when he returned with a wrapped confection. “If you think raw
honey is good, wait until you try this.”

“Virgil.”
His name felt like velvet in her mouth. She found herself thinking of Eric, and
wishing he were with her to share the experience she’d had today. “Thank you
for everything. I appreciate you taking the time to do this.”

He
smiled, his face a little sad. “Eric is a lucky man to have a woman like you
looking for him. If I see him, I will give him the card you gave me.”

“Thank
you.”

In
her car, she slipped the honey jar into one jacket pocket and the honey cake
into the other. Annie wondered what to do next. In spite of Virgil’s apparent
interest, she couldn’t think of anyone but Eric. She wouldn’t stop looking for
him, although part of her felt she was being led on some wild goose chase.

She
glanced at her watch. It was getting late on a Friday night, and she had no
clients. She searched for the card Dita had written Virgil’s address on. When
she found it in the zippered pocket of her purse, she turned it over to locate
the woman’s number. Grabbing her cell phone, she dialed and waited.

“Hello,
darling!” It was Dita’s voice, bright and full of laughter. “You didn’t get
stung, did you?”

Annie
rolled her eyes at the phone. Damn Caller I.D. “No. Listen, I have your honey,
but I want—”

“I’m
on my way out, dear.” Dita’s voice changed. She immediately sounded colder,
more distant. Disappointed? Annie frowned at the phone as the woman spoke. “But
if you want to talk, meet me at The Styx tonight at ten. Bring my honey!”

“The…
Styx?” Annie’s lips felt numb, like she could barely get the words out.
“Listen, lady, I can’t keep—”

“It’s
an after-hours club, very posh.” Dita went on as if Annie hadn’t spoken at all.
“Fourth and Rochester, right on the corner. You can’t miss it. See you
tonight!”

Annie
blinked as the phone went dead in her hand.
Is this worth it?
she
wondered, flipping the lid closed and tossing the phone onto the seat beside
her. Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead against the steering wheel,
remembering Eric’s smile in the darkness. The recollection flooded her with
warmth, and she sighed.
I’ll find you, Eric. I promise. No matter what it
takes.

Chapter
Five

The
night was cool for May, and Annie stood shivering in the long line. She wished
she’d worn more than just the sheer black blouse with a lacy black bra
underneath and a black mini-skirt. It had been ages since she’d gone clubbing,
and she had no idea what they wore anymore.
Can’t go wrong with black
—that
was what she’d thought when she pulled on the same soft, knee-high boots she’d
worn the night she met Eric. Now that her teeth were chattering and the crowd
stretched around the corner of the building, she wasn’t so sure. She remembered
his hands and mouth on her thighs—how they’d shivered for other reasons
that night.
Not tonight, babe. It’s so damned cold out here, if you licked
my thigh, your tongue would stick!
She wished she had at least worn a pair
of tights!

“Would
you like my coat?” The smooth voice behind Annie startled her and she glanced
back to see a tall man with a goatee shrugging off the long leather duster he
was wearing.

“Oh,
no, that’s—” Annie’s protest was met with a wink as he slipped his coat
over her shoulders. It was a nice length and covered her to the tops of her
boots.

“I
insist.” He pulled the collar together under her chin. “You’re shivering like a
church mouse, and I don’t really get cold until temperatures drop into single
digits.”

The
coat cut the chill of the wind instantly and Annie hugged it gratefully around her
shoulders. “Thank you. I wasn’t prepared for such a long line.”

He
nodded, rolling his eyes. “I think Styx wants to be the Club 54 for the new
millennium.”

“Styx…”
She looked up at the purple neon sign displayed prominently on the side of the
building. “If I remember right, I think my high school graduating class chose
‘Come Sail Away’ as our class song.”

He
laughed. “No, no…not that Styx…”

“Oh.”
Annie flushed. “So much for Kilroy.”

“I
think the band named themselves after the original, though.” He chuckled. “You
know…the mythical Greek river of death?”

“How
festive.” Annie wrinkled her nose and glanced up at the stark letters again.

He
winked at her. “Oh, but so very chic and goth and all that stuff.”

“Of
course.” She smiled back at him.

“I’m
Herman, by the way.” He held out a warm, strong hand at the end of a very
well-developed arm Annie couldn’t help but admire as she shook hands with him.
He was wearing just a black t-shirt, but didn’t appear cold at all. She met his
eyes, which were bright even in the dim light of the streetlamps.

“Herman?
As in Munster?” she teased, introducing herself. “I’m Annie.”

“As
in Melville, actually. My mother was an English major. At least she didn’t name
me Moby…or Dick.” He grinned and she couldn’t help laughing. “Annie, like the
curly redheaded waif?”

She
snorted. “My mother would have died before she named me after either a comic
strip or a musical. Anne is a family name. All our names are snobbish that way.
Chloe and Rebecca, my sisters—those are family names, too.”

“It’s
better than Herman.” He nudged her a little as the lined moved up. Annie
shifted nervously, glancing toward the door. “So is this your first time to
Styx?”

“Yes.”
She admitted it with a shrug. “I really don’t do the club scene. I’m meeting
someone here.”

“Boyfriend?”
He raised an eyebrow at her.

“No.”
She shook her head.

“Girlfriend?”
Now it was both eyebrows.

She
smiled. “No. I’m meeting my boyfriend’s mother. Well, sort of. It’s
complicated.”

“Ah,
going to dish about him behind his back and all that catty girl stuff, huh?”

Annie
snorted. “Not exactly. Although I am trying to get information, I suppose. Dita
doesn’t make it easy.”

“Dita?”
The look on Herman’s face showed genuine surprise.

“Do
you know her?”

He
shrugged one shoulder. “I think everyone knows her.”

“I’m
beginning to believe that.” Annie rolled her eyes. “How do you know her?” It
was a long shot, but maybe if he knew Dita, he would know Eric, too.

“I
would say we’re just casual acquaintances. So Dita invited you to the Styx…”
Herman leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms, and she could see the
faint edge of a black tattoo under the sleeve of his shirt. He tilted his head
at her and smiled. “Styx is a little more exclusive than other clubs, you
know.”

She
frowned. “How do you mean?”

“Well,
for starters, not everyone gets in.”

His
words made her heart drop and she swallowed. “Really?”

They
edged forward and Annie saw several people being turned away at the front of
the line as Herman went on telling her about the club. “It used to be by
invitation only. Now it’s by list. Of course, you can get in if you’re
well-known, or with someone well-known.”

Now
she had to be on some list to get in? Great. Annie hoped Dita had put her name
down on it. “If it’s so popular, why have I never heard of it?”

“Ah,
but it’s not popular.” He corrected her with a wag of his finger. “It’s
exclusive. There’s a big difference. Even this location’s history is a bit of a
secret, you know.”

Annie
tilted her head curiously at him. “How so?”

“Well,
I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you…” He grinned, his bright eyes
glittering with humor. She shook her head but laughed anyway. “Just kidding.
Believe it or not, this place used to be a monastery.”

“From
monastery to nightclub?” She wrinkled her nose at the long, warehouse-like side
of the brick building. “That’s a stretch.”

“Well,
not so far as you’d think,” he countered. “The monks who worked here made beer
and wine and other various alcoholic beverages.”

Annie
raised her eyebrows. “Isn’t that sort of a conflict of interests for monks?”

“Nah.”
Herman waved her question away. “Alcohol has rarely been off-limits in
religion. Sex? Yes. Getting drunk? Not so much. Most religions throughout
history have used alcohol, actually, in their rituals. You know, the whole
bread and wine routine? The Greeks had Dionysus—one whole god devoted
entirely to alcohol! Besides, haven’t you ever met an Irish Catholic priest?”

“Okay.
I guess you have a point,” she admitted with a smile. “So these monks made
booze and got ritually sloshed? Not a bad setup, when you think about it. What
happened to them?”

“This
place was a monastery and a distillery back before the Revolutionary War,” he
explained. “But I think the Order of Gabriel went underground some time in the
eighteen-hundreds.”

“The
Order of Gabriel.” She repeated the words as they moved up together in line.
Standing next to him was actually more effective in keeping her warm than his
coat was. And she was grateful for his presence. “I’ve never heard of it.
Wasn’t Gabriel the Angel of Death?”

“Yes.”
Herman nodded, smiling as she edged a little closer to him in the chilly night
air. “In some Christian doctrine, he was so called. He was also known as the
Spirit of Truth.”

“Interesting…what
happened to them? The monks, I mean?” Annie was curious, although she was a
little incredulous at the turn their conversation had taken.

Herman
shrugged. “The monastery closed down. During prohibition, the distillery became
a factory. Styx bought it ten years ago and turned it into an after-hours club.
As for the Order of Gabriel, they never disbanded. Rumor has it that they
continue to protect the secret of life and death to this day, although no one
knows where the sect is located anymore.”

“The
secret of life and death?” Annie blinked up at him. “They protected the secret
of life and death?”

He
nodded, smiling at the stunned look on her face. “What else would the Order of
Gabriel protect?”

“Why
do I feel like I’ve just been plopped down into the middle of the Da Vinci
Code?” she murmured, shaking her head and glancing toward the ever-nearing door
with a little laugh. She spoke mostly to herself. “First bees and now secret
monastic sects…I can’t imagine what’s next.”

“Bees?”
He cocked his head at her, his smile bemused.

“Never
mind.” It was Annie’s turn to wave his question away. “It’s a long story. So
tell me, Herman…what is the secret of life and death?”

“Do
you really want to know?” His question was casual, but his eyes were very
serious and she found herself transfixed by his steady gaze.

Finally,
she nodded. “I think I need to know.”

Leaning
in to her, he warmed her ear with a whisper. “The secret is…death is not the
end.”

Annie
let his words sink in, trying to comprehend the fullness of them, and found
that she couldn’t. Instead, she turned and asked him, “How do you know all of
this?”

“Let’s
just say I’m a bit of a trivia buff.” He winked and crossed his arms and Annie
again glimpsed a fuller view of the black tattoo on his upper arm. She lifted
the sleeve of his shirt slightly to reveal several strange characters that
wrapped around his upper arm: Γαψρηελ.

Annie
raised her eyebrows. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“I
bet you want to know what it says?”

She
nodded, studying the tattoo. “Is it Greek?”

“It’s
all Greek to me.” He winked. Leaning close, he whispered, “It says…Gabriel.”

“Why
am I not surprised?” She smiled up at him. “Just a bit of a history buff, huh?”

“Hey,
would you look at that! A lucky penny!” Herman stooped to pick it up off the
ground. “What’s that old saying?”

Annie
murmured it, a rhyme right out of childhood. “See a penny, pick it up, and all
the day, you’ll have good luck?”

“That’s
it!” He held the penny up to the light. It gleamed as he turned it from side to
side. “Did you know there’s more to that saying?”

“No.”
Annie shook her head and smiled. “But I bet you know it.”

He
beamed. “I do! ‘See a penny, let it lay, and bad luck you’ll have all day.’”

“Good
thing I’m not superstitious.” She pulled his coat around her, shivering and
still somehow feeling cold, even though her body was warm enough now. “I don’t
believe in black cats or broken mirrors or lucky pennies…or boozehound monks
who protect the secret of life and death, for that matter.”

Herman
gave her a lop-sided smile. “My mother used to have another saying.”

“What’s
that?”

“Better
safe than sorry.” He winked and pressed the penny into her hand, folding her
fingers carefully over it. “I think you’ll be glad we picked this one up.”

Annie
was surprised the coin felt warm. She would have opened her hand to look at it,
but they had reached the front of the line and a voice distracted her.

“Who
are you?” The doorman’s eyes swept over her and Annie felt herself shrinking.

“A—Annie
Thanos.” She stumbled over her own name as he glanced down at the clipboard he
was holding.

“You’re
not on my list.”

Damn
Dita. Of course, she would end up waiting out here this whole time and not be
on the list to get in! After the coffee bean fiasco and the bizarre honey bee
pursuit, Annie wouldn’t put anything past the woman.

“She’s
on my list, Doc.” Herman winked as he slipped his coat off her shoulders. The
sudden change in temperature made Annie shiver as she glanced over her shoulder
at him. “Let her in.”

“All
right.” The doorman gave Herman a nod and stepped aside.

“Aren’t
you coming?” Annie stared back, incredulous, as she started through the door.

“Nope.”
Herman waved her on. “I like it better in line…between Scylla and Charybdis!”
She shook her head at the obscure reference to Greek mythology—the origin
of the phrase “between a rock and a hard place.” He winked and disappeared back
into the line as she made her way into the club, and she didn’t have any more
time to wonder at his strange allusion.

The
club was dark and loud and sought to swallow her whole. There were so many
people it was hard to move. So much for exclusive. She shaded her eyes against
the pulsing colored lights and looked for Dita. How was she ever going to find
her? The club was huge, laid out in several levels, very like a warehouse with
steel railings and stairways. The place was hazed with a thick blue light that
seemed to come from everywhere at once. Annie noted the lights located high
above, placed sporadically on the warehouse ceiling.

Looking
up, she spotted a crowd of people on the second level, all grouped together.
Then she heard a high, familiar laugh, floating over the pounding of the music
coming through the dance floor speakers that were taller than she was. She knew
she had found Dita.

Annie’s
boot heels clicked against the metal as she made her way through the couples
dancing together on the stairs. Edging her way against the railing, Annie made
her way toward the throng of people that surrounded Dita as if she were some
modern day Scarlett O’Hara entertaining a crowd of would-be suitors. Dita’s
eyes met hers through the crowd and Annie reached into her skirt pocket to pull
out the jar of honey she had put there on her way out the door that night. She
waved the honey back and forth and heard Dita squeal in delight as she stood
and beckoned to Annie.