Bad Nerd Falling (15 page)

Definitely a brother-sister
relationship.

“
Are you two always like
this?”

“
Yes,” they both answered
at the same time. When he tried to pat her head again, Helena
neatly side-stepped him with a poke.

“
The water is boiling.” He
pointed to the stove. Helena scuttled into the kitchen.

She removed the lid and dumped the
entire package of pasta into the water. A few stirs later and the
water boiled again. Helena set the timer, and then stirred the
gently bubbling sauce. She added cheese to the salad, handed the
bowl to Beau and adjusted the temperature under the sauce all at
the same time.

“
It’s fun to watch her
cook.” DuBois used his head to indicate Helena as he set the salad
bowl on the table then returned to the kitchen. There he dug in the
refrigerator for a pitcher that he also set on the table. “She
brewed this last night.”

He gazed at the perfect color. “Is it
iced tea?”

“
Yeah, we’re both
addicted.”

“
Does it have
lemon?”

“
Of course. But no
sweetener, so if you want that you have to add your own.” That must
have reminded DuBois because he opened a cupboard and took down a
sugar bowl and another container that held packets. By this time
Helena finished her tasks and set everything on the
table.

Once they were all seated and DuBois
actually gave thanks they started on the meal. It was as delicious
as it smelled. How could women make a meal like this taste so good?
His pasta inevitably turned soggy and the sauce usually burned. As
for a crisp, fresh salad like this, it was impossible for him to
achieve.

If things settled, he wondered if he
could learn to cook like this. It might be fun and it was
practical. His eyes slid to Helena. The fun part would come if she
was the one teaching him.

“
I have a piece,” Beau
announced after they finished off everything Helena made. There
wasn’t so much as a bite of pasta or a sliver of carrot
left.

“
A piece of what?” Helena
stacked the plates into the dishwasher.

“
A music composition I
just wrote.”

Helena spun around to stare at DuBois.
“And no one has ever heard it?” Maybe to avoid her penetrating
gaze, he added something to a little compartment in the
appliance.

“
No.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You can’t play
this piece yet.”

Red crept into the man’s
cheeks. “I did
just
write it.”

“
How many times have you
practiced?”

DuBois pursed his lips.
“Twice?”

“
At home or in the
studio?”

“
The studio.”

She nodded, and started wiping down
the countertops.

“
It’s beautiful.” The man
frowned. “Or it will be once I figure out how to play
it.”

“
How is it you can’t play
something you composed?” Vlad asked. It seemed really
odd.

“
I sustained an injury to
my left hand a couple of years ago.” DuBois’s answer was
nonchalant. He read between the lines.

“
You might need to take up
the violin again.” Helena rinsed her dishcloth.

“
I know, but I like the
piano.”

“
So do I. But if it
continues to give you trouble, you might need to resort to Plan
B.”

“
My physical therapist
thinks it will get better, but I have to practice.”

She paused in puttering around the
kitchen. “I have noticed improvement.”

“
Right. She said it takes
time.”

“
That piece you played
last evening that you struggled with, is that because of your
injury?” Vlad asked.

“
Yes. There’s a sweeping
moment in the crescendo that I can’t quite reach.” Frustration
threaded his words.

“
That’s hard.” He well
remembered some men he had worked with throughout the years who not
only wouldn’t play the piano again, but wouldn’t enjoy another
sunrise or sunset. They had sacrificed their lives for their
country.

DuBois’s eyes met his and Vlad read
the same memories there. “It could have been worse.”

He nodded and turned to see Helena
strap on her guitar. “I’m ready.”

With efficient movements, despite the
injury to his left hand, which he could now see, DuBois finished
wiping down the sink. He tossed the sponge onto the sink ledge.
Vlad followed the two of them out of Helena’s apartment.

On the way down the stairs
he noticed DuBois hadn’t just injured his hand. He limped a little
on the stairs, like something had also happened to his left knee.
There was no doubt in his mind now that DuBois had sustained a
pretty severe injury to the left side of his body –
in combat
.

He didn’t say anything because that
was part of the code. Also he didn’t want Helena to know that the
man’s life had been far different than what she obviously thought.
He didn’t doubt the man had traveled with an orchestra or the like.
But he did doubt his career had been solely making music. He
recognized those who, like him, were battle trained and more
precisely, had experienced combat up close and personal.

Once they reached DuBois’s
front door, he recognized the invisible means of security. This man
knew all the tricks and he utilized them even now.
Interesting
.

With a deft twist of the key, DuBois
unlocked the door as he removed his imperceptible security
measures. Helena probably never noticed.

Speaking of Helena… “Did you lock your
door?”

She nodded. “Beau did.”

“
You have a key to
Helena’s apartment?”

“
Of course. I have a key
to everyone’s apartment in this building.” He doubted the man
needed those keys to enter any of the apartments here or
elsewhere.

By that time they were inside and
DuBois assessed the place for signs of intrusion. He performed his
own security check, watching for movement, exits, entrances and the
like. He and DuBois both arrived at the conclusion that all was
well. With easy movements that belied the stiffness in his knee,
and now that he had seen him on the stairs, he recognized the
signs, the man crossed the room to the spectacular baby grand piano
that occupied the turret in the old mansion.

He seated himself and waved some pages
at Helena who stood behind him. “I see them,” she muttered and
strummed a few chords on her guitar.

DuBois’s hands flexed above the
keyboard. When they hit the keys, beautiful, haunting music poured
from the instrument. There was no denying the man was talented,
gifted really. He wondered what had caused the musician to join the
military. He knew most of the men in Rurikstan’s military. It
concerned him that he hadn’t heard of DuBois before now. After all
the places he had lived, he should have at least heard about the
man.

Technically he had. Even he had heard
of the composer side. He had never heard of the military hero.
DuBois was definitely one of those. For a man to sustain an injury
like that and survive meant he had fought hard and long. To pose as
a normal person, despite the injuries proved he was resilient and
determined.

“
Beau this is the best
composition yet.” Helena made several enthusiastic remarks when
they finished the piece. She frowned. “But you’re dragging with
your left hand.”

“
I know,” he stated
without rancor. “That’s why I wanted to hear you play this.” He
grinned. “After you’ve had a chance to practice.”

“
This was my first time.”
She offered a haughty sniff. Then ruined the effect by clapping him
upside the head. Not hard, but it got her point across.

He laughed before he pointed to the
sheet again. “Practice.” He flexed his fingers, mostly those of his
left hand and then the music spread across the room again and Vlad
savored the feeling of peace.

It was fleeting at best, but a good
soldier learned to appreciate it in the times one experienced it.
The moment could be shattered in seconds, so you took what you were
given while it was available.

DuBois stopped abruptly to scribble
some notes. Then he set his fingers back onto the piano keys and
after a few chords, started playing his composition again.
Apparently in a place both of them recognized because Helena picked
up the notes at the same time. This pair were utterly in sync and
he was man enough to realize it upset him. His every possessive
instinct reared up with an ugly snarl.

With a lot of effort he forced them
down. There was nothing other than kinship between them. He knew
that. His logical side knew it, understood it, appreciated it even.
The caveman side growled and snapped and wanted to scoop her up,
toss her over his shoulder and haul her back to his
cave.

An action that would land him in dire
straits.

It didn’t stop the Neanderthal from
trying to exert his dominance.

He quelled any feeling of jealousy
because Helena had proved over the years that she was faithful to
him well before they began this relationship. She could have tested
the waters with other men. But like him, she must have also
instinctively realized whatever was between them was too precious
to sully. He hadn’t staked any claims in the years past, but she
remained faithful to a man who didn’t deserve her
loyalty.

Why didn’t he deserve her
loyalty?
A little voice argued in the back
of his mind.

Discomfort lined that question and
Vlad realized he didn’t want to delve too deep. Why didn’t he
deserve it? Helena wouldn’t have given him that gift if she didn’t
feel he was worthy.

The music in the room swelled, lifting
him out of himself and sweeping him away. He was most
grateful.

As before, the music
suddenly stopped and Helena rounded on DuBois. “How did you miss
that note? You
wrote
it.”

“
I was trying
something.”

“
Your left hand is
hurting.” Helena lifted the guitar off.

“
I’m fine.”

“
No you’re not. You’re in
pain, but you want to hear this so you’re willing to keep playing
when you shouldn’t.”

“
I said—”

“
I don’t care what you
said, you have to stop,” Helena snarled, and the pair were soon
bickering like kids. That quickly, his fears and doubts evaporated.
Their squabble made it evident all over again that there was
absolutely no chemistry between them.

With a firm mouth and a jerk, DuBois
stood and then gestured to the piano bench. “Fine, then you play
this piece.”

“
I’m not a good piano
player.” Helena stared him down with narrowed eyes.

“
Too bad. Play.” There was
an edge to his voice that made Helena’s back stiffen, but
apparently she understood that tone, because with a huff she handed
him the guitar and plopped onto the bench.

To give him credit, DuBois didn’t
gloat or act smug. Instead, with care, he hung the guitar on an
instrument hook then crossed his arms. Helena placed her fingers on
the piano keys, and leaning forward slightly, played. Like she
said, she lacked DuBois’s touch with the piano. Yet the piece was
so beautiful it didn’t much matter.

The notes still floated in the air
like musical diamonds. Floating with effervescent joy through the
room. As Helena played, her eyes focused solely on the musical
sheet in front of her, DuBois uncrossed his arms and grabbed a
sheet of paper with note lines. He scrawled across it then his eyes
drifted shut as he listened to the music.

Once she finished, Helena turned to
DuBois. “Will that be all, Your Royal Highness?”

“
Save that for Aleksi. It
bothers him more.” DuBois tweaked her nose.

She sidestepped him and sauntered over
to where he sat. When she tried to perch on the arm of the chair,
he tumbled her onto his lap.

“
That was beautiful.” He
kissed the corner of her mouth.

“
Not like Beau can
do.”

“
No, but then the piano
isn’t your instrument. Yours is the guitar.”

She nodded. “I understand the guitar
far better than the piano.”

“
My sister says the same
about her violin.”

At the mention of his sister, DuBois
whirled to stare at him. “When can I meet your sister?” There was
an intensity in DuBois’s voice that he recognized.

Now that he realized Beau DuBois
possessed the skills to take care of his sister, he was all for
them meeting.

“
How about tomorrow?” he
suggested.

Helena was already shaking her
head.

“
Why not?” Both he and
DuBois asked at the same time.

“
Molly is helping with the
hospital charity drive, remember?”

“
Right. My parents will
also both be there.”