Jane watched David butter his scone, then spread strawberry jam all over it. He sank his teeth into his creation, closed his eyes, and abandoned himself to the luxury. He swallowed, opened his eyes and noticed her still watching him. “What?”
“Nothing.” She took a sip of coffee, hot and dark. She was glad they were climbing the hill to the castle today. She’d been indulging.
David took another tentative bite, smaller this time. He chewed this one more slowly, eyes closed, savoring the taste.
She laughed.
“What?” This time he sounded exasperated.
“Nothing.”
“Stop saying that.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Okay.” She took another sip of coffee, put down the cup and scrapped a wedge of wheat toast across her plate, soaking up the egg yolk.
“No, I meant stop saying ‘nothing’. What are you thinking?”
“I thought women were supposed to ask that question.”
“You’re impossible,” he huffed.
“When did you start having visions?”
“I told you. I got it from my mother. Not something to advertise, you know.”
She polished off her toast, poured herself more coffee and sat back, cradling the cup. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“About your visions. When did you first realize you could see things other people couldn’t?”
His suspicious scowl softened. “So you believe me?”
“I told you I did.”
Still he was hesitant.
Jane shrugged. “After all the other improbable things we’ve discovered, why not? Besides, I’ve seen some things in my life that make me—well, open to possibilities.”
He toyed with the crumbs on his plate, then pushed it away. “We were accustomed to it because Mom used to tell us what she saw from time to time. Her predictions always came true, too. At least most of the time.”
“Like what?”
“Once we were waiting for a bus and she told us we had to move down to the next stop. Sure enough, the bus turned the corner, ran over the curb and took out the street sign we’d been standing next to.”
“Wow.”
“So when I first saw something, she explained how it ran in our family and it wasn’t anything to be scared of.”
“What did you see?”
David shook his head. “You won’t believe me.”
“Come on.”
“An angel in church.”
“Really?” Jane sat forward. “What did it look like?”
“No wings. That’s why I ran to Mom. She explained they’re tall beings of light, like a candle flame. Asked me if it had given me a message.”
“Did it?”
David shook his head. “No. Just sort of twinkled at me.”
“How old were you?”
“About eight.”
“So now you’re used to it. It’s old hat.”
“I wouldn’t say that. It’s not like I have them every day. Or often, for that matter.” He swirled the last of his coffee around in his cup.
Jane picked up the carafe and poured him another cup.
He nodded his thanks, added cream. “That’s the real reason I joined the Masons. I was hoping they could teach me how to control it.”
“You mean your mother didn’t?”
“For her, it was a gift. Something God would send to help her out. Show her the way forward. She thought it was greedy to ask.”
“But you wanted to know more.”
“Right, but I guess I never got deep enough into the Masonic teachings. With the kids and work . . .” He looked out the window at Prague Castle. “I wasn’t a diligent student.”
“You were busy with your family,” Jane said.
“So, occasionally I’ll see something, but it’s usually related to an important event or a warning.”
“Do you think yesterday was a warning?”
“No.” David looked back at Jane. “Yesterday was different from anything I’ve experienced before. I could smell the damp of the cave and the smoke from the fire.” His eyes took on a faraway mist. “I could almost understand the chanting. And when she stabbed me, for a split second I thought I was dying.”
“Why did she stab you?”
“The Celts used to do blood sacrifice.” He set his cup down and leaned forward. “James argues about it. Says it’s Christian propaganda, but I’ve heard different. That they’d kill an old king and crown a younger, more virile man if their fields or flocks were not fertile for a while.”
Jane wrinkled her nose. “Gives a whole new meaning to noblesse oblige.”
“So maybe she was sacrificing me for the success of this mission.”
“But you’re not exactly dead.”
David’s hand went to his chest. “Thank heaven.”
“What is the mission exactly? Knight told me about this prophecy.”
“Tell me again.”
Jane repeated the prophecy about the eight-sided figure, how it seemed to be the lock to control an energy grid. “They think maybe a cabal of people into dark magic control the grid now. That the artifact is the key to this lock. That if they regain control, they can shift the world power toward the good,” she finished. “It seems ridiculous to me. Pollyannaish.”
“So why are we helping them?”
“Because these lunatics think I have the artifact. Or at least know something about it.” Agitated, she walked to the window and pulled the curtains aside. Artists were putting out their wares on Charles Bridge. Musicians in little clusters leaned toward each other, instruments in hand. “And they ran me out of my home,” she finished.
The English Tudor was home, she realized, even if her family had come from here or Herrnhut or even Fulnek, Salem was her home.
David cleared his throat. She turned back to him. He looked like a school master trying to decide how best to correct a wayward student.
“Okay, so if I hadn’t taken the paintings, if I’d gotten their permission, then maybe I’d still be welcome there,” she burst out. “But they lied to me, too, David.”
“Two wrongs—”
“Oh, for God’s sake. Get real.”
“Sorry, I still think it’s true.”
“Don’t be so naïve.” She turned on him, heat filling her chest. “It’s because you’ve stayed in that small town all your life. If you’d seen what I’ve seen, you wouldn’t say that.”
She expected anger, hurt, but instead he sat calmly and said, “Tell me what you’ve seen.”
The compassion in his voice stopped her tirade. Her eyes filled. She shook her head against them. She’d been crying too much lately. She wanted to be angry. It was easier.
Then she answered his question. “Oh, it’s too much, David, just too much. In Bangkok, all over Southeast Asia and in Eastern Europe, the children being sold for sex. They’re incredibly young. So beautiful and innocent. And there are so many of them that if you saved a few, even a few hundred, they’d be replaced the next day. The starving mothers holding their dead infants in Africa. People walking half a day to get clean water. Don’t even get me started on how animals are treated.”
She pointed a finger at him, not seeing his expression, just remembering ridicule, faces from the past. “I know, silly liberal. Cares more about animals than people, but David, it will break your heart. And all the while the princes party and their fathers bargain and they all rent out women—the most beautiful women—whom they throw away at the end of the year. Or kill. It’s all the same to them.” Tears blinded her and she closed her eyes, fighting for control.
Then he was there, his hands on her shoulders, his voice soothing. “Come on.” He gathered her to him. “Let it out. Just let it all out.”
And she did. She shouted and sobbed, letting the outrages, the shocks, the weight of so many trips and parties and visits to natural disasters and war zones unwind their grip around her heart and fall from her shaking shoulders. He crooned to her, some small, simple tune. Rocked her while she cried it all out.
Music always heals.
In her head, voices chided her. Oh, don’t be that way. Come on, Jane, grow up. This is the way of the world. Always has been. Always will be.
That’s what they’d said, with their dead eyes and quirked up mouths, telling themselves that if they didn’t make these millions, someone else would. Until she believed them. Almost. The shock this small town girl had buried deep, the morals that had been chided and jeered out of her, came crawling back out from hiding, shook themselves off and moved back into her heart.
Finally her sobs subsided. She blew her nose on one of the napkins clutched in her hand, then pulled her head back. Found a clean one and dabbed at David’s shirt, soaked with her tears. “I’m sorry.”
He pulled her tighter. “Shhh.”
“You’ll have to change shirts,” she said.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead, then her temple, her mouth, his lips soothing, then seeking. She put her arms around him and leaned into the kiss. He reached under her knees and lifted her.
“But you’ll hurt your back—”
He shushed her and carried her to the bed.
It had been a long time. She let him undress her, holding out an arm, lifting her hips. He kissed and caressed each part as it emerged from hiding. He seemed to like what he found. By the time she lay naked before him, she’d lost all her shyness, all hesitation.
She reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, pushed it back, ran her hand through the light ruff of hair on his chest. He pulled off the rest of his clothes and laid his length next to hers, warm and firm. Took her in his arms and began to stroke her, explore at his leisure.
It had been a long time.
✬ ✬ ✬
The phone roused them from where they lay entangled on the bed, spent and happy. Jane mumbled a protest. Then the door to the suite buzzed, waking her fully from her drowsy bliss. David reached for the phone beside the bed.
Jane grabbed a thick, cotton robe hanging on the bathroom door and walked to the entryway of the suite. She peered through the peephole. It was Ivar.
“Ivar! You’re back,” she shouted through the door. “Let me get dressed.”
Jane ran back into the bedroom. David sat on the side of the bed, buck naked, still talking. She tore her eyes away and pulled on her clothes, closed the bedroom door and let Knight’s security man in.
He took a few steps into the suite, locked the door behind him, and stood almost at attention. His silver hair did nothing to diminish the sense of dangerous competence in his wide shoulders, his athletic stance. His gaze penetrated like a wolf’s staring down an elk. One eye was puffy and black.
She reached out to touch his face, then pulled her hand back. “You okay?”
“You should see him,” Ivar said with a wicked grin.
“Coffee? I think we have a scone left.” Jane flipped the linen napkin back and found the basket empty. “Oh, sorry.”
“That’s all right. I’ve eaten. I just came to let you know that Philip has left. He’s gone back to the States.”
“You took him out, huh?”
Ivar brushed this comment aside. “He hired a local guy to watch you.” He waved his hand to forestall alarm. “I know this new man. He will only follow you, report back.” He reached inside his long coat and pulled out an envelope from an inside pocket. “Here’s a picture, just so you’ll know.”
Jane took the envelope and started to open it, then asked, “What does this mean, then?”
“You’re free to travel more widely. The trip up north was a risk, but you found something, yes?”
She nodded.
“Now you may go where you wish, even stay overnight somewhere else. Still it would be best to spend most nights here.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded his head, accepting her gratitude with his surprising grace. “I’ll still be watching, along with my team.”
Then Jane wondered if this suite had surveillance cameras. Most likely. Her cheeks flushed hot.
“You still have my cell number?”
“Yes.” Jane pointed at the desk where her electronics were arrayed.
“Good. Let me know your plans, but you can relax a bit. Have a vacation.”
Jane thanked him again and locked the door behind him. David opened the bedroom door. He also wore a robe, but his came only to mid-thigh. She was glad Ivar hadn’t seen him, which was irrational. They were adults, after all.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“Ivar.”
“He’s okay?”
“Got quite a shiner.” Jane told him what the security man had said. “Who was on the phone?”
“Václav. Said he was up all night with the stomach flu. He can’t make it today. Now his kid has it.”
Jane tapped her chin, an idea forming.
David continued, “I told him to take a few days if he needed them. Hope that’s all right.”
“Perfect,” she said.
“Huh?” David frowned.
“Well, I’m sorry he’s sick, but a lot of clues seem to point to Fulnek.”
“Remind me.”
“Comenius. One branch of my family. Let’s drive down there. Spend a day or two.”
“How far is it?”
“Let’s see.” Jane walked to the desk and tapped the keyboard of her computer. David came up and stood behind her, his body radiating warmth. She suppressed the thought of just staying here. In bed. “Three and a half hours.”
“I could make it in two and a half, three tops.”
Jane laughed. “Three and a half would be fine, too.” She checked the time. “It’s only ten now. We could find somewhere to stop for lunch.”
“Can we get that little Fiat 500 Abarth again?” David asked with a rakish grin. “It handles so sweet.”
Jane laughed. “Why not? Ivar said to have fun.”