"No Varinski in a thousand years has gone blind?"
"The deal with the devil guaranteed good health and long life, but now thereas illness, and that is a sign the pact is disintegrating. From what I could tell, Uncle Ivan has these white, cloudy eyes, he drinks all the time, and pretty much is incoherent and drooling. Except every once in a while he speaks in Satanas voice." Warlord shivered. "He warned their leader that head better find the icons or else, and when Boris turned out to be a failure, he had the Varinskis kill Boris."
Nothing made sense; legends and mythical beasts were playing on a great big plasma screen that made the monstersa"and the heroesa"look more real than anything in the real world, and she was scared.
"What about you?" she asked. "Will you be like other men, and never change into a cat or . . . ?"
"I a.s.sume." His good eye became a fevered slit, and he looked . . . hungry. Anguished.
Warlord said she shone with light. She didnat believe that, but she tried for a little optimism. "If the Varinskis are in such disarray, youave got a good chance of winning."
"Yes, except . . ."
"Except what?"
"Thereas one kid, name of Vadim. He smells like . . . evil, and I swear, when I was there he was the only one who knew I didnat belong. Heas young, so at first he couldnat seize power. But the old men who oppose him are dying, not by any natural means, and when I was there Vadim was gaining ground. Since then Iave talked to other mercenaries, listened to the rumors, watched his progress on the Internet, and heas in charge now." Warlord was grim. "If he succeeds in stopping usa"my family, the Wildersa"the devil will keep every Varinski soul for another thousand years."
They were flying over the western edge of Nevada. To the east was the dry, brown, flat Great Basin. To the west the mountains rose, shocking white and snowy against the lowering gray sky.
She looked around at the luxurious Cessna. She looked out at the Sierra Nevadas. And she did not want to abandon this airplane. "Youave got a brother," she said persuasively. "You were sending me to him. Why donat we go to him together?"
"Heas not happy with me, and he will be less happy when I bring my battle to his doorstep."
"That battle is your familyas battle." She finished tying his boots and sat back on her heels.
"Innokenti is fighting for the Varinskis, yes. But he is stalking me. I made a fool of him. He beat me in battle. He imprisoned me. And all the while he thought I was nothing more than a mere human."
"So what?"
"Do you realize how much the Varinskis would love to get their hands on a son of the current Konstantine? Of the American Konstantine Wilder? No, of course you donat. If they held one of us, me or one of my brothers, or, G.o.d forbid, my sister, the battle would be over." He grinned unpleasantly. "Innokenti had me and never realized who I was. He never realized that burying me a thousand feet underground wouldnat be enough to keep me confined. He didnat realize I could generate a revolt that would make the Varinskis a laughingstock among a.s.sa.s.sins and mercenaries around the world."
"Itas personal between you two." The sting in her fingertips was spreading up her arm. Her toes tingled painfully.
"And youare caught in the middle. Iam sorry." He sounded sincere.
"Not that I like being caught in the middle, but I rather likea"" She stopped.
"What?"
"Nothing." I rather like that you refuse to bring the wrath of the Varinskis down on your unsuspecting family.
"Weall parachute out of here together. Weall survive somehow, and thereas a good chance this maneuver will fool Innokenti completely."
"Really? A good chance?"
"A decent chance. The best chance I can make for us. If he believes his mission is complete, that weare dead, then weall be safe."
"Okay. Winter in the High Sierras." She thought of the icy peaks, the snow measured in feet instead of inches, the avalanches . . . the cliffs waiting for the unwary to slip, plummet onto the rocks below, and die. "Goody."
He took her hand. "You wonat fall."
When she was his captive, she had hated that he knew her weakness. Now, when danger nipped at their heels and he was scarred by the past and threatened by the future, his words comforted her.
"I know. I really do. I think itas just a natural fear of falling combined with . . ." She could almost hear Jackson Sonnetas voice snap, G.o.d d.a.m.n it, Karen, stop being so melodramatic. "Well, just a natural fear of falling."
"Combined with your motheras death," Warlord finished her thought.
"You did your research." How uncomfortable was this? He knew about her mother. He was a.n.a.lyzing her. Seating herself in the pilotas seat, she busied herself with the controls.
"It wasnat tough to find that news report." Then he surprised her. He put his arm around her shoulders. "I am sorry. I canat imagine the pain of losing your mother so soon."
To have him talk about her mother and hold her at the same time . . . that made her choke up. Choke up over a death that occurred twenty-six years ago. She furtively wiped a tear off her cheek. "Iave never really gotten over it. I should have, but I havenat."
"I did some research on your father, too. He doesnat sound like the most sensitive guy in the world. Maybe you were never given the chance to get over it."
She turned her head and looked at Warlord. She should be incredulousa"this man who had held her captive, who placed slave bracelets on her wrists, who spent two solid weeks inflicting the best s.e.x on her unwilling bodya"he was making aspersions about Jackson Sonnet and his lack of sensitivity.
But Warlord was so close his face almost touched hers. And this feeling that welled up in hera"it wasnat l.u.s.t. It had nothing to do with s.e.x. It was the recognition of one wounded human soul for another. "When did you last see your mother?" she asked in a low voice.
He answered as quietly, "Seventeen years ago."
"Do you ever miss her?"
"Every day. And when I see her again, Iall go down on my knees and beg her forgiveness for leaving and never letting her know I was alive."
"What will she do?"
"Probably pop me a good one to the back of the head. Then hug me. Then feed me. I hope we get stuck on the afeed mea stage for a while. She can really cook."
Karen smiled. He sounded so affectionate. So hopeful. "What about your father?"
Warlordas arm fell away. "My father and I always clashed."
"Why?"
"Itas hard. I love being a beast. I love stalking my prey. I love fighting with tooth and claw and knowing I will win," Warlord said fiercely. "But my father is named Konstantine, because he was the leader of the Varinskis. Then he met my mother and fell in love. They marrieda"from the stories they tell, the Varinskis and her Romany tribe opposed the matcha"and immigrated to the United States. They changed their name to Wilder, had us three boys, and then ten years later, a miracle girl, the first girl born in a thousand years. . . ." Warlord half smiled.
Karen watched him, fascinated to see him lost in his sentimental recollections.
But Warlord caught himself and straightened. "The thing is, as the leader of the Varinskis, my father did some unspeakable stuff before he married Mama, and he was strict like you wouldnat believe. He said . . . he said every time I turned, I slid down the long path to h.e.l.l, and you know what? He was right. I know it now. The mouth of h.e.l.l almost swallowed me before I turned away, and even now it beckons me."
He scared her when he talked that way. "What do you mean?" she whispered.
"I should never become a panther. I should never step into the shadow. But when I do, I feel so strong and sure. It must be like cocaine. It creates an illusion of power so addictive, I can never stop. Yet I have to, or Iall be like . . . them."
"The Varinskis."
"Yes. Like the Varinskis. So you see, for a lot of reasons we have to save the icon."
Furtively she stroked the gold bracelet around her wrist, then straightened her shoulders. "Iall throw it away."
"Will you?"
She couldnat. Of course she couldnat. She couldnat betray that child with the beautiful blue-green eyes, the eyes that looked so much like hers. Karen turned her gaze away from him.
"No, of course not." His skin took on a stretched look, as if he were swelling all over, and as if his head were too heavy he leaned it back against the headrest. "Because one woman is meant to possess that icon, one woman only. And that is you."
"Because I found it."
He rolled his head and looked at her. "Do you know why you found it?"
She shook her head.
"Because according to Uncle Ivanas d.a.m.ned vision, only one woman can find and hold that icona"and that woman is the woman I love."
Chapter Twenty-six.
"What a pile of c.r.a.p." Karen sat stiff and furious in her seat. "You donat know what love is, if you think what you feel for me is love."
Warlord closed his good eye and thought about it. "I guess I can follow that. You think that if I loved you, I wouldnat have kidnapped and held you."
"Or come for me at the spa and lied about who you were."
She was so angry. And so beautiful. If he werenat sick, the beast in him would rise to claim her, and she would have reason to hate him once more. As it was, the snakeas venom ate at his liver and ripped at his skin. Only by concentrating on her and their conversation could he keep from wailing in agony. "In my own defense, I had to lie or you would have run. You almost ran anyway."
"You mean when I saw you the first time and I thought you were . . . who you are?" She pointed a finger at him. "And thatas another thing. You eavesdropped on Dika and me." Obviously she was leaping from one resentment to another. "Running away would have been a good idea. A solid plan."
"I would have followed you."
"You didnat follow me last time."
"Out of the Himalayas, you mean. I couldnat." Reaching out, he took her chin and turned her face to his. "You believe me, donat you?"
"Yes. You could never stand to let me win."
With her snaps and sulks, she made him want to laugh. With her spirit and bravery, she made him want to protect her. With her body . . . she simply made him want. "In Nepal I grabbed for you like a selfish boy. But on the day I lost you, I started a long walk through h.e.l.l." He turned his face toward the sun.
In the past year, it seemed he could never get enough sun.
"When I came out on the other side Iad learned a few lessons. I knew what I didnat want, and I knew what I did want. So at the spa I courted you, and actually thought I did a pretty good job. You were going to sleep with me until . . . d.a.m.n it! I shouldnat have kissed you."
"Do you think I wouldnat have recognized you at some point?" She sounded more than a little testy.
"If I could have gotten your clothes off and my head between your legs, you would have been too far gone to care." He wasnat as ill as he feared, for the mere idea worked on him like an aphrodisiac. "At least until morning."
She went from testy to totally p.i.s.sed off. "You have never suffered from either modesty or lack of confidence."
"Honey, I serviced a lot of women before I brought you to my tent, and for one reasona" so I would know how to make you happy."
"That was so kind of you." She was really ramping up the sarcasm now. "You sacrificed yourself on the altar of love, and just for little ola me, waiting in your future. What a sweet-heart you are. And to keep in practice, Iam sure youave serviced a lot of women since."
The brief flush of excitement faded, leaving him chilled. "No. There hasnat been another woman since you."
She stared at him, her mouth half-open.
He didnat give her time to recover. He pulled himself out of his seat and staggered toward the back. "Iam going to put on my jumpsuit, get ready to go, or Iam afraid I wonat make it." He opened the overhead, knowing perfectly well shead turned to watch him. "Iave been with a lot of women, but other than you, Iave only ever loved one woman."
That gave her back her power of speech. "Who was this paragon?"
"She was just a girl. Emma Seymour. We met at a band compet.i.tion. She was from the opposing school."
"High school?" By the tone of Karenas voice, he knew head surprised her.
"Yeah. Iam an all-American boy. I went to high school. In Washington."
"Youare really from Washington?"
"I might kill and steal, but I donat lie." He pulled down his parachute and the survival gear head stowed, knowing this day might come. "I remember Emmaas face so clearly. The dark brown eyes, the long, dark hair . . . her complexion was perfectly clear." Considering what a pimply-faced kid head been, that had been a real marvel. "She didnat want me to tell anyone about us, so I didnat. When we talked on the phone, it was in low voices so no one could overhear. We met down in Burlington twice a week for coffee, and we discussed books we liked and the computer I was building and where she wanted to go to college. We did not talk about our families. The whole affair had a thrilling kind of Romeo and Juliet secrecy. " He glanced toward the c.o.c.kpit to see how Karen was taking it.
Her mouth was hanging open again. She snapped it closed and asked, "Did you sleep with her?"
"My first time ever." Talking about it made him feel marginally better. "We did it right below the bleachers after the football game was over and the other kids had left, and I remember I was so scared I was trembling."
"Thatas . . . well, thatas cute."
"I didnat think so. I really hoped she didnat notice, because it wasnat her first time."
"Was she an uppercla.s.sman?" Karen sounded both amused and fascinated.
"She was a senior." He pulled on the jumpsuit and barely kept from groaning at the pain in his joints. "She was a G.o.ddess."
"Especially since she made you feel like a G.o.d?" Karen was chuckling now.
"When I did something dumb, she didnat make a big deal of it. She made me forget to worry about coming too soon. She made it good for me." He stopped and stared straight ahead. "Which is why I killed her father."
Karenas laughter stopped as if it had been cut with a knife.
"After wead . . . had s.e.x, I went home and my mother was up." Even the memory made him squirm. "If thereas one person a guy whoas just been laid for the first time doesnat want to see, itas his mom. But I must not have looked any different, because she informed me that Emma was on the phone and told me to tell her not to call so late. Then Mama kissed me and went to bed."
"Is that the last time you saw her?"
"Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah."