Stolen Fury (21 page)

She had to look like hell, in a ripped and filthy evening gown, sweaty and operating on the dregs of an adrenaline rush. But she didn’t care. At the moment, she was thankful to be alive.

When he nudged her some time later, she finally opened her eyes. The bus had stopped and city lights beat in from the outside. He helped her to her feet, gently this time. “Come on. We need to keep moving.”

She hadn’t paid any attention to where they were headed, but they’d obviously left the posh suburbs and were back in the city. The El rumbled by somewhere close. For the first time since she’d seen Rafe at the base of the stairs, she was able to think straight.

“Head west,” she said, recognizing her surroundings.

He didn’t fight her when she led the way toward the elevated station. Thankful they were the only ones on the platform, she dropped to a bench and let out a long, long breath.

This wasn’t what she’d envisioned when she’d gone looking for Sullivan in the Keys. Not running for her life in downtown Chicago, twice in two days.

Someone wanted them. Wanted them dead, from the looks of it. One attempt on her life she could chalk up to Sullivan’s shady career choice and a case of bad luck. After two, she was starting to think this was personal.

Common sense told her this was all about the Furies and Doug’s research. But she still couldn’t figure out why. Doug had been dead for fifteen years. If someone had wanted his notes, they’d waited a helluva long time to go looking for it.

Criminy. All that crap had been in her parents’ attic, not locked up like the U.S. Mint. One simple break-in and whoever wanted the damn boxes would have been set.

One simple break-in…

Her breath caught. Those boxes had been moved to her parents’ place only about two years ago. After Keira and Catrine had cleaned out their junk from her parents’ attic. Before that, they’d been stored in a back room of her father’s store. A place no one ever visited, let alone remembered was there. When the store had closed, her mother had moved all Lisa’s stuff back to the house.

And before that…how many times had her parents’ place been broken into over the years? Five, six times? Shane was always bugging them about the declining status of the neighborhood and the fact they needed to sell and relocate to sunny Florida in their golden years.

Her father had only shaken his head and scowled at each of Shane’s attempts. “Heat like that does things to people’s brains. Better to be here where it’s safe.”

Safe.

She’d never once considered the possibility that leaving her things—Doug’s things—with them would put them in jeopardy. The neighborhood
was
declining. Shane
was
right. Her father was just too bullheaded to listen.

Just as she’d always been too bullheaded to heed Shane’s warning that her little apartment in downtown San Francisco was a bad idea. She’d had break-ins there, too. And she’d always chalked them up to living in the big bad city. Now she couldn’t help wondering if it had been more. Maybe someone had been watching her a lot longer than she thought.

A chill spread down her spine, and she tugged the tux
jacket around her shoulders. Paper crinkled in the inner pocket, distracting her from the dread settling in her stomach. Curious, she reached inside and grasped the slips—research Rafe must have pulled from Landau’s house. Something about it registered in her mind. Something she’d seen before.

Rafe passed in front of her, dragging her attention from what she was reading. He hadn’t stopped pacing back and forth like a caged animal since they’d climbed the platform stairs, and he didn’t show any signs of stopping. She couldn’t focus on the words in front of her.

“Give it a rest, Slick.”

When he didn’t seem to hear her, she folded the papers and replaced them in the breast pocket of his coat, sure they meant something, but lacking the energy to figure out just what that was at the moment. He’d obviously been spotted, which accounted for their quick flight from the party, but she still didn’t have a clue what had really happened and who, exactly, was after them.

And she was still a little staggered by what had gone down in that library. She’d watched—okay, heard—as Rafe had taken the other man out like he’d been trained in more than just the art of common thievery. Her sexy thief had been in stealth mode the moment that door had opened. Swift. Efficient. Dangerous. Her stomach clenched at the memory of how fast he’d disarmed and immobilized the other man, and she realized there were layers to Rafe Sullivan she’d had no clue existed.

Now that layered man was pacing by her again, making her stomach tighten with concern. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his forearms. The bow tie stuck out of the pocket of his slacks, and his hair was disheveled from wind and his fingers. He didn’t seem to notice the cold and didn’t look her way, even when she spoke. Only rubbed a hand over his mouth and continued to pace.

She’d seen him ticked. She’d seen him in the throes of passion. She’d even seen him juiced on adrenaline. What
she hadn’t ever seen from him was concern. He was always in control. But here, now, his brow furrowed in serious thought, her tough-guy thief was looking a little worried.

And it set her nerves on edge. The fact he wasn’t volunteering information only made her more suspicious.

“Sit down, Sullivan. You’re starting to stress me out.”

He stopped, but he didn’t look at her. Instead, he chewed on his lip a minute, then finally turned—careful, she noticed, to keep his eyes down as he dropped onto the bench next to her. “So I think it’s safe to say we’re back at square one.”

Back at square one.
He was strategizing. She could understand that. He was a guy after all, always thinking a step ahead. Hell, one of them needed to strategize at this point.

“Okay,” she said cautiously, glancing sideways. His jaw flexed, relaxed, but he still didn’t meet her gaze. Her eyes narrowed on his tense profile, studying him closely. He didn’t look like he was strategizing. He looked like he was stressing.

He leaned forward, braced his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands in front of him. “Right. So I think it’d be a good idea if we split up for the time being. No reason to stick together at this point, not until we get some major research done.”

“Research,” she said, still watching him.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Probably a good idea if we lay low for a while, all things considered. If I were you, I don’t think I’d go back to your parents’ house or your place in San Francisco, at least not right now. You’ve got friends, right? Be a good time to go visit them. When we’ve got something, we’ll hook up. Or e-mail.”

“E-mail,” she said slowly. “Now there’s a novel idea.”

“Right.” He braced his hands on his thighs as if it had all been settled, and stood. “So that’s decided.”

“Um. I don’t think so.” He finally turned and looked at her, eyes dark and serious. Oh, yeah, now it made perfect sense. Her blood pressure shot up. Suddenly what they’d
just been through seemed small potatoes compared to what he was about to do to her. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

“Lisa—”

“We made a deal, and I’m not leaving until we’re finished.”

“I don’t think you get it.”

“No, I get it. I get it really well. We lost Doug’s research, hit a dead end with Landau, and now you want to dump me and go after Tisiphone on your own. Well, tough. You’re stuck with me.”

“
Carajo.
It’s not about Tisiphone.”

“Oh, no?”

“No. Look. Those were the two guys from last night. They’re following me. It’s not gonna take ’em long to figure out who I’ve been hanging with. The best idea all around is for you to take off for a while.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Nice try.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “I’ll give you Alecto, okay?”

“You have it on you?”

“No, I don’t have it on me. But I’ll get it for you if you’ll just promise to go.”

He was serious. She could see it in his frantic eyes. He wanted her gone, and not because he was looking out for his own ass. What had happened earlier had more than shaken him.

That burst of anger faded. She dropped her arms. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on here?”

He tossed his arms up and turned away from her. “
Ave Maria purísima.
You are the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”

“Now that one I could translate. I didn’t realize you were so religious, Slick.” When he only glared at her, she flashed a smile, hoping to ease the tension in his features. “Ever notice you speak Spanish when you’re pissed or you’ve got sex on the brain?”

He obviously didn’t think her words were funny, because he muttered something she couldn’t quite hear, something that didn’t sound all sweet and sexy from where she was sitting.

“Look,” she said, rising and stepping toward him. “I’m not leaving. So let’s not even go there.” When he glanced away, she moved closer to get his attention. “They saw me, too. I’m in this as much as you are.” And if she was right, she’d been in it a lot longer than he had.

“So go somewhere else. Take a friggin’ vacation. Just back off this for a while.”

He was willing to give up what he wanted most to keep her out of harm’s way. In fact, at the moment, he looked like he’d do just about anything to keep her safe.

Her chest tightened, a reaction that threw her totally off guard. She shifted uncomfortably and swallowed back a jolt of panic. “Rafe, that’s not going to make a difference.” He rolled his eyes, and she reached out in response, wrapping her fingers around his forearm as she softened her voice. “Tell me what I’m missing here.”

His eyes slid closed for a brief second, opened. “James Kimbel was at the party.”

“I don’t recognize the name.”

“Elderly gardener. Rat-bastard grandson. Hates my guts with a passion. Ring a bell?”

“Your neighbor in the Keys?”

“Yeah. I think good ol’ Jimmy’s the one who shot at us last night, was one of the ones shooting at us to night. Which means someone hired him to follow me. Probably from Key West. Maybe even before. Someone who knows what we’re after.”

Before. Like Italy. Or Jamaica. The voices she and Simeon had heard in that cave rushed through her mind. Maybe they weren’t following him, but her. “I don’t understand. If he—”

“The black guy he was with? I’m pretty sure it was Terence Winters. Big-time player in the antiquities circuit. I heard his
voice when I was upstairs. Winters is the kind of guy who will do what ever it takes to get what he wants. Including convincing some pansy-assed kid who’s never liked me the quickest way to the easy life is to take me out of the game.”

“Winters is what, a treasure hunter?”

“Yeah. You could say that. One who’s been implicated in a couple murders and is on several major wanted lists in a handful of countries. Always manages to stay under the radar though. He’s got connections. Everywhere. And if he’s working with Landau, then it means those connections are big. You saw the political power at that party.”

A chill ran down her back. “Nice.”

“No. Not nice. Dangerous. I had a run-in with Winters a few years ago. We were both after the same piece. He wouldn’t even think twice about popping me to get at the Furies.”

The honesty in his eyes sent her stomach churning. “If that’s true, then splitting up isn’t going to get me out of this. He’ll just come looking for me, too.”

He braced both hands on her arms. “Lisa, do me a favor and just disappear for a while, okay? When things settle down, I’ll get in touch with you. I won’t cut you out of it, I promise.”

She believed him. He might still be a thief, but he was telling her the truth. That fact cemented her decision.

“I’m not leaving.”

He closed his eyes and dropped his arms. “Fuck.”

A smile tugged at her mouth even though her stomach was jumping all over the place. “You know, you’ve been using that word in English a lot more lately. Acclimating to the north?”

He frowned. “I’m not gettin’ any, right? Might as well at least enjoy the word.”

She couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped from her lips. She liked him, really liked him, which only made this strange relationship of theirs harder to comprehend.

He rested his hands on his hips and looked up the empty
track with a frown. “So tell me, smartass, does this train go all the way to O’Hare?”

At least he sounded seminormal again. The chill was gone from his words, even if he still looked ready to pound something. “Yeah. You have to switch trains at Jackson Station, but the Blue Line will take you all the way to the airport.”

“Okay. So we’ll catch a flight and head back to Miami to regroup. I need to call Pete.”

“Pete?”

“My business partner.”

She nodded, curious but not really sure she wanted to know the details of his shady dealings. “But we need to stop by Shane’s first.”

“I don’t want to risk going back there. We’ll buy you some more clothes when we get to the airport.”

“That’s fine, but I still need to stop by Shane’s.”

He glanced over with curious eyes. “Why?”

He hadn’t just saved her life for the second time, he’d been honest with her. That meant more to her than anything else. At some point she had to trust him if they were going to make this work and find Tisiphone before it was too late. “I need Doug’s journal.”

“His what?”

“His journal. I pulled it from the boxes and slipped it into my pack before we left my parents’ place last night. He kept detailed notes in it, clues about each of the Furies. If my hunch is right, what you found at Landau’s fits in with what’s in the journal.”

She didn’t miss the flash of anger in his eyes and knew he was finally making a connection between her words and the rucksack she’d gone back for after the car accident. “And you didn’t tell me about it.”

It wasn’t a question. The ice in his voice made her back tingle. “I didn’t know if I could trust you. And it wouldn’t have been important until we had more to go on anyway.”
When he turned away, a rush of guilt swept through her. “There’s still a lot more we need to figure out before his journal’s even helpful, but we need it.”