Key Trilogy (50 page)

“I won’t be a baby if you won’t.” Ignoring the queasiness, she sat down to mop him up. “Talk to me, and I’m less likely to pitch over in a faint. What happened, Jordan? Where did he take you?”

“I started out somewhere else. I can’t quite pull it back, so maybe I was dreaming. I was walking. It was dark, but with a full moon. I think it might’ve been up at the Peak. I can’t remember for sure. It’s hazy.”

“Keep going.” She concentrated on his voice, on the words. On anything but the way the cloth she was using reddened as she pressed it against the cuts.

“Next thing I knew, it was broad daylight. It was . . . sort of the way I always imagined the transporter in
Star Trek
works. Instant and disorienting.”

“It wouldn’t be my favorite mode of transportation.”

“Are you kidding? It’s got to beat the hell out of . . . Christ on a crutch!”

“I know. I’m sorry.” But she gritted her teeth and continued to swab the disinfectant over the cuts. “Keep talking. We’ll get through this.”

Alarmed, Moe deserted the field by slinking off the bed and crawling under it.

Jordan did his best to breathe through the pain. “The Curtain of Power. I was behind it,” he said and told her.

“You provoked him? Deliberately?” She sat back, all the interest and concern on her face shifting into irritated impatience. “Do you have to be such a man?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. Added to that, he was going to do whatever he was going to do. Why shouldn’t I get a couple of swings in first, even if they were only verbal?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Let me think.” Sarcasm dripping
from each word, she tapped a finger to the side of her head. “Maybe because . . . he’s a god.”

“And you’d’ve stood there, of course, hands folded, having a polite conversation?”

“I don’t know.” She blew out a breath and finished the bandaging. “Probably not.” Deciding that she’d done her best, she bent over and dropped her head between her knees. “I don’t ever want to have to do that again.”

“That makes two of us.” Stiff, still achy, he turned so he could run his hand up and down her back. “I appreciate it.”

She managed what passed for a nod. “Tell me the rest.”

“You just cleaned and bandaged the rest. Whatever he did felt just the way this looks. Actually, it felt considerably worse.”

“You screamed.”

“Do you have to keep saying that? It’s embarrassing.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I screamed, too. I woke up and you were—it looked like you were having a convulsion. You were dead white, bleeding, shaking. I didn’t know what the hell to do. I guess I panicked. I grabbed you, started shouting. You went limp. Almost as soon as I touched you, you went limp. I thought—for a minute I thought you were dead.”

“I heard you.”

She stayed where she was another moment, fighting back tears again. “When?”

“After I hit the dirt the second time. I heard you calling for me, and it was like getting sucked back into the old transporter. I heard him, too, right as I was fading out. I heard him, but more inside my head. ‘I’m not finished,’ he said. ‘I am not finished.’ And he was royally pissed. He couldn’t keep me there. He wasn’t done with me, but he couldn’t keep me there.”

“Why?”

“You woke up.” Reaching out, Jordan ran his fingers
over her cheek. “You called me. You touched me, and that brought me out.”

“Human contact?”

“Maybe as simple as that,” he agreed. “Maybe just that simple—when the humans are connected.”

“But why you?” She picked up the cloth and dabbed at the cut on his lip. “Why did he take you behind the Curtain?”

“That’s something we have to figure out. When we do—ouch, Dana.”

“Sorry.”

“When we do,” he repeated as he nudged her hand away, “we’ll have more of the pieces for this particular puzzle.”

SIMPLE or complex, Dana needed answers. With Moe hanging his head blissfully out the passenger window, she drove to Warrior’s Peak to get them. Research and speculation were one thing, but her lover’s blood had been shed. Now she wanted cold, hard facts.

The trees were still bright, and their color splashed across a dull gray sky layered with sulky clouds. But more leaves littered the road and the floor of the forest.

Already past their peak, she thought. Time was moving forward, and her four weeks were down to two.

What did she think? What did she know? She ran through everything that came to mind as she drove the last miles and then through the gates.

Rowena was in the front garden, gathering some of the last of the fall blooms. She wore a thick sweater of deep blue speckled with dull gold, and to Dana’s surprise, well-worn jeans and scuffed boots.

Her hair was tied back and rained in a sleek tail between her shoulder blades.

The country goddess in her garden, Dana thought, and imagined Malory would see it as a painting.

Rowena lifted a hand in a wave, then a smile lit up her face as she spotted Moe.

“Welcome.” She ran to the car as Dana parked, opened the door for the exuberant Moe. “There’s my handsome boy!” Her laugh rang out as Moe leaped up to kiss her face. “I was hoping you’d pay me a visit.”

“Me or Moe?”

“Both are a delightful surprise. Why, what’s this?” She put her hand behind her back, then brought it out again. She held out a huge Milk Bone that caused Moe to moan with pleasure. “Yes, it certainly is for you. Now if you’ll sit and shake hands like a gentleman . . .”

The words were barely out of her mouth when Moe plopped his butt on the ground, lifted his paw. They exchanged a shake, a long look of mutual admiration. He nipped the treat delicately out of her fingers, then sprawled at her feet to chomp it to bits.

“Is it a Dr. Doolittle thing?” Dana wondered, and got a puzzled glance from Rowena.

“I’m sorry?”

“You know. Talking to the animals.”

“Ah. Let’s say . . . in a manner of speaking. And what can I offer you?” she asked Dana.

“Answers.”

“So sober, so serious. And so attractive this morning. What a wonderful outfit. You have such a smart collection of jackets,” Rowena commented as she ran a finger down the sleeve of the dull-gold tapestry fabric. “I covet them.”

“I imagine you can whip one up just as easy as you did that dog biscuit.”

“Ah, but that would take the fun, and the adventure, out of shopping, wouldn’t it? Would you like to come in? We’ll have some tea by the fire.”

“No, thanks. I don’t have a lot of time. We’re settling on our property early this afternoon, so I’m going to have to
start back pretty directly. Rowena, there are some things I need to know.”

“I’ll tell you what I can. Why don’t we walk? Rain’s coming,” she added, casting a look at the sky. “But not for a bit. I like the heavy, anticipatory feel to the air before a rain.”

Since Moe had made short work of the Milk Bone, Rowena opened her hand and revealed a bright red rubber ball. She threw it over the lawn toward the woods.

“I should warn you, Moe will expect you to keep throwing that for him for the next three or four years.”

“There’s nothing quite so perfect as a dog.” Rowena tucked her arm companionably in Dana’s and began to walk. “A comfort, a friend, a warrior, an amusement. They only ask that we love them.”

“Why don’t you have one?”

“Ah, well.” With a sad smile, Rowena patted Dana’s hand, then bent down to pick up the ball Moe dropped at her feet. She ruffled his fur, then flung the ball for him to chase.

“You can’t.” The realization struck, had Dana tapping her fingers to her temple. “Duh. I don’t mean you couldn’t, but realistically . . . A dog’s life span is woefully shorter than that of your average mortal.”

She remembered what Jordan had said about them being alone, about their immortality on this plane being curse rather than gift.

“When you factor in the spectacular longevity of someone like you, and the finite life span of your average mutt, that’s a problem.”

“Yes. I had dogs. At home, they were one of my great pleasures.”

She picked up the ball, already covered with teeth marks and dog spit, in her elegant hand and threw it for the tireless Moe.

“When we were turned out, I needed to believe that we would do what needed to be done and return. Soon. I pined for many things of home, and comforted myself with a
dog. A wolfhound was my first. Oh, he was so handsome and brave and loyal. Ten years.”

She sighed, and skirted along the edge of the woods. “He was mine for ten years. The snap of a finger. There are things we can’t change, that are denied to us while we live here. I can’t extend a creature’s life beyond its thread. Not even that of a beloved dog.”

She scooped the ball up for Moe, threw it in another direction.

“I had a dog when I was a kid.” Like Rowena, Dana watched Moe streak after the ball as if it were the first time. “Well, it was my dad’s dog, really. He got her the year before I was born, so I grew up with her. She died when I was eleven. I cried for three days.”

“So you know what it is.” Rowena smiled a little as Moe pranced back, doing a full-body wag with the rubber ball wedged in his mouth like an apple. “I grieved, and I swore I wouldn’t indulge myself again. But I did. Many times. Until I had to accept that my heart would simply break if I had to go through the death of another I loved so much, after so short a time. So, I’m so pleased . . .”

She bent down to catch Moe’s face in her hands. “And so grateful that you brought the handsome Moe to visit me.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, is it? Power, immortality?”

“Nothing is without pain or loss or price. Is this what you wanted to know?”

“Part of it. There are limitations, at least when you’re here. And Kane has limitations when he’s here. Limitations when he deals with something from our world. Is that right?”

“That’s a fine deduction. You are creatures of free will. That’s as it must be. He can lure, he can lie, he can deceive. But he cannot force.”

“Can he kill?”

Rowena threw the ball again, farther this time to give Moe a longer chase. “You’re not speaking of war or of
defense, of protection of innocents or loved ones. The penalty for taking the life of a mortal is so fierce I can’t believe that even he would risk it.”

“The end of existence,” Dana supplied. “I’ve done my research. Not death, not the passing through to the next life, but an end.”

“Even gods have fears. That is one. More is the stripping of power, the prison between worlds that allows entry to none. This he would risk.”

“He tried to kill Jordan.”

Rowena whirled, gripped Dana’s arm. “Tell me. Exactly.”

She related everything that had happened in the middle of the night.

“He took him behind the Curtain?” Rowena asked. “And there shed his blood?”

“I’ll say.”

She began to pace, her movements so fretful that Moe sat quietly holding the tooth-pocked ball in his mouth.

“Even now we’re not permitted to see, to
know
. They were alone, you say? There was no one else about?”

“Jordan said something about a deer.”

“A deer.” Rowena went very still. “What sort of deer? What did it look like?”

“It looked like a deer.” Dana lifted her hands. “Except I guess it was the sort you’d expect to find in places where the flowers look like rubies and so on. He said it was gold and had a silver rack.”

“It was a buck, then.”

“Yes. And, oh, yeah, it had a collar, a jeweled collar.”

“It’s possible,” she whispered. “But what does it mean?”

“You tell me.”

“If it was him, why did he allow it?” Agitated, she began to stride up and down the verge, between wood and lawn. “Why did he permit it?”

“Who and what?” Dana demanded and dragged Rowena’s attention back to her by shaking her arm.

“If it was the king,” she said. “If it was our king taking the shape of the buck. If this is true, why did he allow Kane to bring a mortal behind the Curtain without consent? And to harm, to spill his blood there? What war is being waged in my world?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know. But the only one wounded, as far as I can tell, was Jordan.”

“I will talk to Pitte,” she declared. “I will think. He saw no one else—only these two?”

“Just the buck and Kane.”

“I don’t have the answers you want. Kane has interfered before, but it’s never gone this far. The spell was of his making, and the boundaries of it, his own. But he breaks them and is not stopped. I can do more, will do more. But I’m no longer certain of the scope of his power or protection. I can no longer be certain that the king rules.”

“If he doesn’t?”

“Then there is war,” Rowena said flatly. “And still we are not brought home. This tells me, whatever is or has happened in my world, it remains my fate to finish what I was sent here to do. I have to believe it’s your fate to help me.”

She took a deep breath, calming herself. “I’ll give you a balm for your man’s wounds.”

“We’re sleeping together. I don’t know if that makes him my man.”

With an absentminded gesture, Rowena brushed this aside. “I must speak with Pitte. Strategy is more his area than mine. Come, I’ll get you the potion.”

“Just a minute. One thing. Jordan. He’s essential to my key?”

“Why do you ask what you already know?”

“I want confirmation.”

In answer Rowena laid her fingertips on Dana’s heart. “You already have that as well.”

“Is he part of this because I love him?”

“He’s part of you because you love him. And you are the key.” She took Dana’s hand. “Come. I’ll give you the balm for your warrior, then send you on your way.” She cast another look at the darkening sky. “The rain’s coming.”

B
RAD
dumped ice in a galvanized bucket, creating a cold if humble nest for a bottle of Cristal. He covered the exposed neck with a clean paint rag.

Behind him, Flynn and Jordan set up a card table. “The cloth for that’s in the bag over there.”

Flynn glanced over. “Cloth?”

“Tablecloth.”

“Why do they need a tablecloth? Table’s clean.”

“Just put it on the damn table.”

Jordan walked over to the bag and ripped it open. “And look, he got one with pretty pink rosebuds on it.”

“Matching napkins,” Flynn added, pulling them out of the bag.

“What a sweetie. I didn’t know you had a feminine side.”

“When we’re done here, I’m going to kick your asses just to reestablish my manhood—and because I’ll enjoy it.” Brad took out the champagne flutes he’d brought along,
held them up to check for smudges. “Then maybe I’ll tell the women this was my idea and negate your points.”

“Hey, I sprang for the flowers,” Flynn reminded him.

“I bought the cookies.” Jordan shook the bakery box.

“Ideas get more points than cookies and flowers, my friends.” Brad twitched the tablecloth to straighten it. “It’s all about ideas and presentation. Which proves being in touch with your feminine side bags more women.”

“Then how come Flynn and I are the only ones here getting laid?”

“Give me time.”

“I really should clock you for saying that as regards my woman and my sister.” Flynn studied Jordan’s grin. “But it’s not only an accurate statement, it rubs it in Brad’s face, so I’m letting it pass. How much time we got?”

“A while yet,” Jordan said. “Settlement should be pretty straightforward, but you’ve got lawyers, bankers, and papers, so it’ll take twice as long as you think it will.”

He stepped back, looked at the table set up in the foyer. He had to admit it was a nice touch there among the drop cloths and paint supplies. A splash of color and celebration against the primer-coated walls.

The women, he knew, would melt like ice cream in July.

“Okay, damn good idea, Brad.”

“I’ve got a million of them.”

“I don’t see why we have to clear out before they get here,” Flynn complained. “I’d like champagne and cookies, not to mention the big sloppy kisses this is going to generate.”

“Because it’s their moment, that’s why.” Satisfied, Brad leaned against the stepladder. “Recognizing that will only generate more big sloppy kisses in the long run.”

“I like instant gratification.” But Flynn paused, looked around. “It’s going to be a hell of a place, really. Innovative idea, good location, attractive setting. It’s good for the Valley. Good for them. You should see some of the stuff
Mal’s setting up for stock. Over the weekend we went to see a couple of the artists she’s going to feature. Cool stuff.”

“He went with her to see art,” Jordan pointed out, and with a grin tucked a finger in his mouth, then pulled up the side to mime a hook. “Can opera be far behind?”

“We’ll see who’s smirking when you’re sitting in Dana’s bookstore drinking herbal tea.”

“That’s not so bad. Brad here’s probably going to have to get a facial to win Zoe over.”

“There are lines that can’t be crossed, no matter what the prize.” But Brad looked up the stairs. “They’re going to need to decide on lighting. And some of the trim needs to be replaced. Could use a new sink in the john up there.”

“You’re planning on seducing Zoe with bathroom fixtures?” Flynn asked. “You devious bastard. I’m proud to call you friend.”

“Seducing her could be a very satisfying side benefit—after all, the stepladder got me a chicken dinner.”

“Chicken dinner? You can get a chicken dinner at the Main Street Diner, Tuesday-night special.” Sorrowfully, Flynn shook his head. “My pride in you is waning.”

“I’m just getting started. But the fact is, they could use a little help here. There’s some tile work, some carpentry, a little plumbing and electrical. They’ve got to upgrade some of the windows. We could pitch in with more than champagne and cookies.”

“I’m in for that,” Jordan agreed.

“Sure. Already figured on it.” Flynn shrugged. “Hell, it looks like my house is going to be Remodel Central for a while anyway. Might as well spread the wealth. And driving a few nails should help keep us all from going crazy over the keys.”

“Now that you mention it.” Jordan glanced toward the windows as rain began to splat. “I’d better fill you in on what happened last night.”

“Something happened to Dana?” Flynn pushed away from the wall. “Is she okay?”

“Nothing happened to her. She’s fine. Hell, I need a smoke. Let’s go out on the porch.”

They stood outside, the rain drumming on the overhang. He took them through it—the colors, the sounds, the movements, building the story much as he’d done for them in tents pitched in a backyard, or around a campfire in the woods.

But this time it hadn’t come out of his imagination. However active and agile that imagination was, it couldn’t rake slashes down his chest. They burned still. It was some consolation to hear Flynn’s sharply drawn breath and see Brad’s wince of sympathy when he tugged up his shirt to show them.

“Christ, those look nasty.” Flynn studied the raw, red grooves. “Shouldn’t they be bandaged or something?”

“Dana put something on them last night, but she’s not exactly Nurse Betty. I smeared some more crap on them this morning. Point is, our guy was seriously pissed—enough to take a genuine shot at me. Where does that leave the women?”

Heat flashed into Flynn’s eyes. “He didn’t touch Malory. Never physically touched her. It was bad enough, scary enough, the way he messed with her mind. But this . . . We’ve got to take him down.”

“I’m open to ideas.” Jordan spread his hands. “Problem is, as far as magic goes, I can’t even pull a rabbit out of my hat.”

“Some of it’s just misdirection, tricking the eye,” Brad mused.

“Let me tell you, son, when that guy’s got his claws in you, it’s no trick of the eye.”

“No, I mean from our stand,” Brad told Jordan. “We direct him toward us, it gives the women more space. He had a reason for going after you. If we can figure that out,
exploit it, it might take his attention away from Dana for the next couple of weeks. And from Zoe when her time comes around.”

“I haven’t got anything concrete. It just feels like I know something, but I can’t reel it in.” Frustrated, Jordan jammed his hands into his pockets. “Something I know, or did, or have, that’s the answer. Or one of them. Something from before, that plays into the now.”

“Something between you and Dana,” Brad prompted.

“Has to be connected, doesn’t it? Otherwise it wouldn’t follow the pattern. And if it isn’t something important, why did he fuck with me?”

“Maybe it’s time for a meeting,” Brad began.

“For you suits, it’s always time for a meeting,” Flynn shot back.

“I’m forced to point out that I’m not wearing a suit.”

“Inside you are. It’s probably pin-striped. And I bet you’re wearing a tie too. But I digress. Maybe the suit’s right,” he said to Jordan. “The six of us should put our heads together. Your place.” He patted Brad on the shoulder. “You’ve got more furniture and better food.”

“That works for me. The sooner, the better.” Brad glanced at his watch. “Ha-ha, I have a meeting. Set it up with the women, let me know.”

He stepped back inside to snag his jacket, then jogged out into the rain toward his car.

Jordan stood watching as Brad drove away. “We get through this one and get to the last round, his head’s going to be on the block.”

“You think he doesn’t know that?”

“No, I figure he does. I was wondering if Zoe does.”

THE only thing Zoe knew at that moment was that this was one of the biggest days of her life. She clutched the keys,
her
keys, in her fist. They were brand spanking new,
to go with the brand spanking new lock sets she’d bought to replace the old ones.

She was going to put the lock on the main door herself—she knew how—first thing. A kind of rite, she decided. A kind of claiming.

She parked, ran through the rain to the front porch, then waited as her friends pulled in behind. Malory had the original keys. Besides, it was right that the three of them went in together.

And wasn’t it right, somehow symbolic, that Malory had the original key? That she and Dana would wait while Malory unlocked the door. The first door.

Malory had completed her part of the quest, and had held her key. Now it was Dana’s turn. Then, God willing, it would be hers.

“Rain’s going to strip a lot of the leaves off the trees,” Malory commented as she rushed under the overhang. “There won’t be much color left after this.”

“It was nice while it lasted.”

“Yes, it was.” Malory started to unlock the door, then stopped. “It just hit me. It’s ours now. Really ours. Maybe we should say something profound, do something symbolic.”

“I’m not carrying either of you across the threshold.” Dana scooped back her damp hair.

“Booty shake,” Zoe decided and made Dana laugh.

“Booty shake,” she agreed. “On three.”

The few people driving by might have been slightly surprised to see three women standing on a pretty blue porch wiggling their butts in front of a closed door.

Giggling, Malory turned the key. “That felt right. And here we go.” She opened the door with what she considered a very nice flourish, then her mouth dropped open.

“Oh, my God, look!”

“What?” Instinctively, Zoe grabbed her arm to yank her back. “Is it Kane?”

“No, no! Look. Oh, this is so sweet! Look what they did.” She rushed inside and all but buried her face in the roses set on the card table. “Flowers. Our first flowers. Flynn’s going to get such a big reward for this.”

“It was really thoughtful of him.” Zoe sniffed at the flowers, then opened the bakery box. “Cookies. The fancy kind. What a sweetheart you’ve got, Malory.”

“He didn’t do it alone.” Dana pulled the champagne out of the bucket, arched her eyebrows at the label. “This has Brad’s fingerprints all over it. Not just champagne but stupendous champagne.”

Zoe frowned over the label. “That’s expensive, isn’t it?”

“Not only, but very classy. Only time I ever had it was when Brad gave me a bottle for my twenty-first birthday. He always had style.”

“The three of them did this together, for us.” With a long sigh, Malory danced her fingers over petals. “I’d say all three of them have style.”

“Let’s not disappoint them.” Dana popped the cork, poured champagne into the three flutes set on the table.

“We need to have a toast.” Zoe picked up the flutes, passed them out.

“Let’s not do one that makes us cry.” Malory took a steadying breath. “The flowers have me half started already.”

“I’ve got it.” Dana raised her glass. “To Indulgence.”

They clinked glasses, sipped. And cried a little anyway.

“I’ve got something I want to show you.” Malory set down her glass, picked up her briefcase. “Just something I was playing with. I don’t want you to feel obligated. You won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t like the concept. It’s just . . . just an idea.”

“Stop killing us with suspense.” Dana picked up a cookie. “Give.”

“Okay. I was thinking about a logo, you know something that incorporates all three businesses. Of course, we
might all want separate ones anyway, but we could use one logo for letterhead, business cards, the Web page.”

“Web page.” Pursing her lips, Dana nodded. “You’re way ahead of me.”

“Pays to plan. You remember Tod.”

“Sure. Really cute guy you worked with at The Gallery,” Dana supplied.

“Right. He’s a good friend, too, and he’s great at computer design. We could ask him to fiddle with looks and features for a Web page. Actually, I’m hoping to be able to offer him a job here. Down the road a little, but being optimistic, I’m going to need help. We all will.”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Dana admitted. “But yeah, I’ll need at least one part-time bookseller who can handle brewing tea, serving wine. I guess I might need two people, realistically.”

“I’ve got feelers out for a stylist, a nail consultant. Some others.” Zoe pressed a hand to her jumpy stomach. “Jeez. We’re going to have
employees
.”

“I like that part.” Dana lifted her champagne glass again. “It’s good to be boss.”

“We’re also going to need a tax consultant, office equipment, signage, an advertising budget, phone systems . . . I have lists,” Malory finished.

Dana laughed. “I bet you do. Now what else is in the briefcase?”

“Okay. For the logo. This is just something I did from an idea I had.”

She pulled out a folder, opened it, then set the drawing on the table.

The figure of a woman sat in a salon chair, tipped back in a pose of easy relaxation. A book was open in her hands, a glass of wine and a single rose in a bud vase on the table beside her. All this was inside an ornate border that framed it like a stylized portrait.

Above the border was the single word:
INDULGENCE
.

Below the name, it read
FOR THE BODY
,
THE MIND
,
AND THE SPIRIT
.