Boston Avant-Garde 6: Chiaroscuro (23 page)

Jason shrugged as though he’d been asked what brand of shampoo he preferred. “Hyde asked us to pick her up.”

“And you didn’t think twice about adding kidnapping to your rap sheet?” Owen cocked his head to one side. “Or did you really imagine she’d go willingly?”

Mattie swallowed a huge lump that had appeared in her throat. She’d thought her lovers were paranoid and silly to demand she have a babysitter. Now she was hyperaware of the way Owen’s hands hung loose and open at his sides. Danger rolled off his body in waves so tangible they had her fighting to remain still.

“Tell you what, little brother.” Jason glanced at his compatriots. “You come with us instead. Fight for me tonight, and I’ll leave your little girlfriend alone.” Jason’s expression was anything but earnest. “What do you say?”

She waited for Owen to tell them they were crazy, that he could take them all with one hand tied behind his back and there was no way he’d agree to fight like a dog in a cage. He didn’t, though.

Owen turned to look at her, a wealth of emotion in his eyes. “Find Lars.”

Mattie was still waiting for Owen to tell his brother to get out when Owen turned to follow Jason and his flunkies out of the gallery and into the crowded street.

Chapter Nineteen

Lars paced back and forth in his office. Owen wasn’t answering his phone, and Lars couldn’t get ahold of Mattie either. Another hour, and his worries would include a massively pissed-off mother when he didn’t show at the Hampshire House reception.

Lars hadn’t exactly left things on the best of terms with Owen and Mattie that morning, but he couldn’t imagine radio silence being a method of response Owen would employ under any circumstances. It wasn’t like him. Mattie was another story, but Lars had sent her more than a dozen apologies via text and left three messages detailing his idiocy and begging for forgiveness. Not even Mattie would have been able to resist a campaign like that for this long.

He could’ve driven to Triptych in search of Owen, but his gut told him that was a dead end. Lars had already called once and left a message with Trace. Owen hadn’t been seen at the club since leaving with Mattie, which left Lars with nothing to do but pace. He had discovered long ago that pacing circles gave his brain time to analyze information. Half of his Interpol investigations involved pacing around hotel rooms in foreign cities until inspiration struck.

Selena.

His cousin was the common thread Lars needed to unravel this whole mess. Wherever Selena was, Demon and Malachi would probably be there or close by. There was a good chance they’d either know or at least have some notion where Owen was. And Selena might even have a clue where he could start searching for Mattie.

Lars glanced at the clock on the wall and then down at his clothes. Selena was at the Hampshire House reception. The tailored suit Lars had worn to work that morning would have to do. It wasn’t what he normally would’ve worn for such an event, but he’d be damned if he put off finding Mattie and Owen for a trip home to retrieve designer clothing. Or flowers. His mother would just have to be thankful he’d shown up at all. Never mind that he hadn’t brought flowers for a woman he intended to sever ties with as soon as he saw her again.

* * * *

Mattie had never felt so out of place in her life. These people were here to party, and she was trying to save Owen’s life. She stared at the immaculate four-story brownstone and the guests draped in designer gowns and custom suits tramping up to the door. She’d once been to an art show staged in the first-floor gallery. While she was there, she’d made the trek down to the pub in the basement for a drink because she’d wanted to see where the television show
Cheers
had been staged. Unfortunately she hadn’t paid that much attention to the layout. She’d never expected to come back with a desperate need to find Lars inside the maze of rooms packed with the who’s who of Boston society.

She crossed Beacon Street and hung back. Her first problem was going to be getting in. There were guys with earpieces checking invitations at the door. Hampshire House had three kitchens, two full-service bars, and what amounted to five rooms where they could host multiple events at once. What kind of crazy people rented out the entire building?

Rich people.

Somehow Mattie didn’t figure her ankle-length skirt covered in applique flowers and butterflies would help her blend in. Never mind the chambray button-down shirt she’d pulled on over her camisole, or her worn leather sandals. Mattie hadn’t so much as run a brush through her hair since waking up in Owen’s bed that morning. These women looked as though they’d had a legion of hairdressers and makeup artists at their beck and call.

What she needed was a way in the back. Well, what she really needed was her phone. It’d be a hell of a lot easier to just call Lars or Selena, but this was her only option at the moment.

Mattie ran around the building and into the alley. She discovered the side door had been propped open with a piece of folded-up cardboard. It was probably someone’s way of getting out to sneak a smoke. Mattie didn’t care. It was her way inside.

As soon as she entered the building, she was assaulted by kitchen noises. She ducked away from the chaos of food trays, servers, and kitchen staff, and moved in the direction she remembered the elevators to be. There was a tiny staircase labeled STAFF ONLY just beyond the restrooms. Marking its location for later, Mattie prepared to take a peek at the first-floor guests.

When she looked out at a sea of unfamiliar faces in the Georgian Room, panic nearly sent her to her knees. The low hum of conversation was punctuated by the high-pitched laughter of ladies and the coarser answer of the gentlemen’s chuckles. The mansion had been renovated with its old-world charm intact. It was all dark wood and architectural detailing that would make history buffs drool with envy. The first floor was wall-to-wall tables and chairs bracketed by a buffet and peppered with high-society guests. It was beyond pompous. How did Lars stand it?

Mattie slunk around the perimeter of the exterior lobby and took a peek inside the adjoining Oak Room. She spotted Isabel almost immediately and grabbed the edge of a column to stay upright. The breath she’d taken and held burned her lungs as Mattie searched for Lars.

He wasn’t there. Or at least he wasn’t with Isabel.

Relief allowed a tiny bit of the tension to drain from Mattie’s body. She still desperately needed to find Lars. They had to get to Owen before Jason and his thugs did something awful to him, but knowing Lars wasn’t hanging all over the rich and beautiful Isabel was a boost to Mattie’s confidence anyway.

Lars wasn’t on the first floor. If he had been, Isabel would’ve had her hooks in him. Mattie hurried back to the old servants’ stairs and made the climb to the second floor. There were a few less people, and some were taking advantage of the dance floor, but Mattie was starting to feel hopeless. Not only that, but she was starting to garner a little bit of attention.

An older woman eyed Mattie with open suspicion. She touched the arm of the gentleman nearest her and gestured to Mattie, who was only half hidden by a potted ficus. The guy had beady eyes and a face that was made up of harsh angles. He was obviously not a friendly man.

I’m no good at this slinking-around stuff. Too bad Demon’s not around to give lessons. He skulks like a champ.

Inspiration hit hard and fast, almost causing Mattie to leap out of her hiding spot. Demon
was
there! At least she was almost positive he was. The guy was far too protective of his lovers to let them attend such a huge crush without him along. On the other hand, Selena had once told her that crowds drove Demon nuts. She said he generally hung around the fringes, keeping an eye on her and Malachi as they mingled.

She was turning toward the stairs when someone grabbed her elbow and spun her around. Mattie’s heart did double-time when she found herself face-to-face with the beady-eyed man.

“Can I ask what you’re doing here, Miss?”

“Looking for a friend.” She hoped she wouldn’t have to give him any more than that.

“Who?” His voice dripped derision as he took in her appearance.

“Selena Aasen.” Mattie hadn’t seen Lars, but she was certain Selena was somewhere in the building. “Have you seen her?”

The mocking quality of his smile made it seem as though he was enjoying himself. “
You’re
with the Aasens? That’s priceless.”

Demon’s deliberately casual voice entered the conversation from just behind Mattie’s left shoulder. “Actually, she is. If you’ll step off, I can take it from here.”

For about two seconds Mattie thought the beady-eyed man might argue. Then he shrugged and walked away quickly. Mattie wondered briefly if Demon’s aura always had that effect on people, or if he could turn it on and off like Owen could.

“Selena’s upstairs with Malachi.” Demon headed in the direction she’d been going before the beady-eyed man’s interruption. “I think under the circumstances, you had the right idea about using the back stairs.”

Mattie didn’t budge. Her instincts told her time was running out. “I need to find Lars. Have you seen him?”

Demon cocked his head to move the hank of dark hair hanging in front of his right eye. “No. Does this have anything to do with Owen not showing up for work?”

Some other time she might gloat over one-upping Demon Yen in the information department, but now wasn’t the time. “Owen’s half brother showed up at the gallery earlier. He threatened me, then made a bargain with Owen.”

“What bargain?” The hard edge of Demon’s tone made the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

“Jason wants Owen to fight in some kind of match for money.” Saying it out loud made it twice as real and a dozen times scarier. Tears pricked Mattie’s eyes. “Please help me find Lars. He’ll know what to do.”

Demon pulled out his phone and dialed before turning back to her. “Why didn’t you call him?”

“My phone is broken.”

He muttered something in a language she didn’t understand before saying one thing she did. “Lars? Mattie’s at the reception.”

LARS ALMOST COLLAPSED with relief when Demon told him that Mattie was less than a few feet away in the second-floor lobby. He shoved past several couples in the entry and made for the stairs.

He took the richly carpeted steps at a run and burst onto the second floor like a wild man. Past the bar he caught a glimpse of Demon tucked out of the way behind a ficus tree, a familiar figure standing beside him.

Once Lars registered Mattie’s presence, nothing else mattered. He was vaguely aware of someone calling his name from inside the library, but that concern took a backseat to the need to hold Mattie and know she was safe.

“Lars! I’m so glad I found you.” She clasped her hands over her heart.

He reached out as he closed the distance between them. There was no sign of Owen, but he’d deal with that in a moment. For now it was enough to feel Mattie’s fingers lace with his, to draw her into his arms and hold her tight. “Thank God you’re okay. Where the hell have you been, and why aren’t you answering your phone?”

Her voice was muffled against his chest. “My phone’s broken. I dropped it.”

“Where’s Owen?”

“Lars, we have to go. We have to hurry!” She began tugging at the lapels of his suit jacket.

Before he could respond to the urgency in her tone, his mother grabbed his arm. “Lars Alexander Aasen, what is the meaning of this?”

He’d never expected to finish the conversation about his infertility and love-life choices in a room full of Boston socialites, but his mother didn’t give him any choice. Her shrill voice carried over the din of conversation and drew the attention of every last person within a thirty-foot radius, which pretty much meant everyone. Lars felt their gazes slide off him and lock on Mattie. That was all it took. He wasn’t going to leave her hanging there all alone. Owen had told him he had to make a choice.

“Mother, this is Mattie English.” Lars drew Mattie around to face his mother, keeping her safe in the circle of his arms. He longed for Owen’s stoic presence, but this was about Lars making a choice. “Mattie, this is Caroline Aasen, my mother.”

Mattie rallied beautifully. She smiled and offered her hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, though the circumstances are rather hurried. Lars and I need to be somewhere else.”

“Where else on earth could he possibly need to be?” Caroline ignored the offered hand. “Isabel is
waiting
, Lars. You never showed to pick her up this evening. I had to send a car, the poor thing!”

Lars sighed, gathering his patience and noting Isabel’s presence a few feet away. She was dressed in peach-colored chiffon that rendered her pale and lifeless beside Mattie’s vibrancy. Isabel’s expression was utterly closed. Lars offered what he hoped was a conciliatory smile. “I’m sorry to leave you in the lurch, Isabel, but my mother was wrong to offer my escort this evening. I hope you can understand. I’m in a committed relationship already.”

Isabel gave a curt nod and turned on her heel, heading downstairs at a quick clip. His mother made a hissing noise he’d never have expected. Their audience snapped their attention from Isabel to Caroline Aasen like spectators at a tennis match.

His mother’s face flushed with anger. “What relationship? With her? You must be joking!”

“Yes, with Mattie.” Lars took a deep breath and was thankful for Mattie’s reassuring squeeze on his forearms. “And with a man named Owen. I told you. I’m bisexual. This is the lifestyle that fits me, and I’ve found two amazing people to share it with.”

Malachi arrived with Selena in tow just in time to offer his grunt of approval. “About damn time you owned that.”

Selena gave him an affectionate swat. “Hush.”

Demon interrupted the scene, a shocking development considering the circumstances. The slender man leaned close to Lars to keep their conversation private. “If I understood Mattie correctly, Owen’s in trouble. I think it might be best to excuse ourselves.”

Yeah, because that’s going to happen without instigating a third World War.