He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. He paced to the sink, then back to stand right in front of her.
"Why would you come after me? Guilt?"
"Some," she admitted.
"But it wasn't you who involved me, not really. They didn't choose me because of you."
"I know--that's why I said some. Maybe thirty-three percent."
He smiled a tiny bit, like she'd said something funny. "And the other sixty-seven percent?"
"Another thirty-three percent... justice? That's not the right word. But someone like you... you deserve more than this. You're a better person than any of them. It's not right that someone like you should have to be a part of this world. It's an evil waste."
She hadn't meant to be quite so vehement. She could tell she'd only confused him again. He didn't realize how unusual he was. He didn't belong down here in the filth of the trenches. Something about him was just... pure.
"And the last thirty-four?" he asked after a moment of thought.
"I don't know." She groaned.
She didn't know why or how he had become a central figure in her life. She didn't know why she automatically assumed he would be there in the future when that made no sense at all. She didn't know why, when his brother had asked her to keep an eye on him, her answer had been so earnest and so... compulsory.
Daniel was waiting for more. She spread her hands helplessly. She didn't know what else to say.
He smiled a little. "Well, liability doesn't seem such an awful word as it did before."
"It does to me."
"You know if they came for you, I would do what I could to stand in their way. So you're a liability for me, too."
"I wouldn't want you to do that."
"Because we'd both end up dead."
"Yes, we would! If they come for me, you run."
He laughed. "Agree to disagree."
"Daniel--"
"Let me tell you what else I see when I look at you."
Her shoulders hunched automatically. "Tell me the worst thing you see."
He sighed, then reached out to gently lay his fingertips along her cheekbone. "These bruises. They break my heart. But, in a really twisted and wrong way, I'm sort of grateful for them. How shameful is that?"
"Grateful?"
"Well, if my idiot bully of a brother hadn't beaten you up, you would have disappeared, and I would have had no way to ever find you again. Because of your injuries, you needed our help. You stayed with me."
His expression when he said the last four words was very unsettling. Or maybe it was his fingers lingering on her skin.
"Now can I tell you what else I see?"
She stared at him warily.
"I see a woman who is more... real than any other woman I've ever met. You make every other person I've known seem insubstantial, somehow incomplete. Like shadows and illusions. I loved my wife, or rather--as you so insightfully pointed out while I was high--I loved my idea of who she was. I truly did. But she was never as there to me as you are. I've never been drawn to someone the way I am to you, and I have been from the very first moment I met you. It's like the difference between... between reading about gravity and then falling for the first time."
They stared at each other for what felt like hours but could have been minutes or even seconds. His hand, at first just touching her cheekbone with the very tips of his fingers, slowly relaxed down until his palm was cradling her jaw. His thumb brushed across her lower lip with a pressure so light, she wasn't totally sure she hadn't imagined it.
"This is entirely irrational on every level," she whispered.
"Don't kill me, please?"
She might have nodded.
He put his other hand on her face--so softly that despite her bruises there was no hint of pain. It was just live current, like the way a plasma globe must feel from the inside.
She started to remind herself, as his lips pressed gently against hers, that she was not thirteen years old and this was not her first kiss, so really... then his hands moved into her hair and held her mouth more firmly against his, his lips opened, and she couldn't even finish the thought. She couldn't think how the words were supposed to string together.
She gasped--just a tiny puff of breath--and he pulled his face an inch back, still holding her head secure in his long hands.
"Did I hurt you?"
She couldn't remember how to say Just keep kissing me, so instead she stretched up on her tiptoes to throw her arms around his neck and pull him closer. He was not unwilling to comply.
He must have felt the drag in her arms, or his back was protesting the considerable difference in their heights; he grabbed her waist and swung her up onto the island counter, never breaking the contact between their lips. Reflexively, her legs wrapped around his hips at the same time that his arms pulled tight around her torso, so their bodies were warmly fused together. Her fingers twisted themselves into his hair, and she was finally able to admit to herself that she had always been attracted to these unruly curls, that she'd secretly enjoyed running her fingers through them while he was unconscious in a way that was totally unprofessional.
There was something honest and so Daniel about the kiss, as if his personality--along with his scent and taste--was a part of the electricity humming back and forth between them. She started to understand what he'd been saying before, about how she was real to him. He was something new to her, an entirely new experience. It was like her first kiss, because no kiss had ever been so vivid, so much stronger than her own analytical mind. She didn't have to think.
It felt amazing not to think.
Everything was just kissing Daniel, like there had never been another purpose for breathing in and out.
He kissed her throat, her temple, the top of her head. He cradled her face against his neck and sighed.
"It feels like I've been waiting a century to do that. It's like time has lost all continuity. Every second with you outweighs days of life before I met you."
"This shouldn't be so easy." Once he'd stopped kissing her, she could think again. She wished she didn't have to.
He tilted her chin up. "What do you mean?"
"Shouldn't there be some... awkwardness? Noses bumping, all that. I mean, it's been a while for me, but that's how I remember it."
He kissed her nose. "Normally, yes. But this hasn't been a normal thing in any facet."
"I don't understand how this could happen. The odds are astronomically against it. You were just the random bait they put in a trap for me. And then, coincidentally, you just happen to be exactly..." She didn't know how to finish.
"Exactly what I want," he said, and he leaned in to kiss her again. He pulled back too soon. "I'll admit," he continued, "it's not a bet I would have taken."
"Your chances at winning the lottery would be better."
"Do you believe in fate?"
"Of course not."
He laughed at her scornful tone. "I guess karma is out, too, then?"
"Neither of those things is real."
"Can you prove that?"
"Well, not conclusively, no. But no one can prove they are real, either."
"Then you'll just have to accept that this is the world's most unlikely coincidence. I, however, think there is some balance in the universe. We've both been treated unfairly. Maybe this is our balance."
"It's irrational--"
He cut her off, his lips making her forget instantly what she had been about to say. He kissed along the skin of her cheekbone till he got to her ear.
"Rationality is overrated," he whispered.
Then his mouth was moving with hers again, and she couldn't help but agree. This was better than logic.
"You're not off the hook for Indochine," he murmured.
"Huh?"
"The movie. I endangered our lives to acquire it, the least you can do is--"
This time, she didn't let him finish.
"Tomorrow," he said when they came up for air.
&
nbsp; "Tomorrow," she agreed.
CHAPTER 16
Alex woke up the next day feeling both full of anticipation and also very, very stupid.
Honestly, it was like she couldn't complete a solid paragraph of thought without going back to some piece of Daniel's face, or the texture of his hands, or the way his breath felt against her throat. And of course, that was where the feeling of anticipation was coming from.
But there were so many practical matters that simply had to be considered. Last night, or rather this morning, by the time he'd kissed her good night for the hundredth time at the top of the stairs, she'd been too exhausted to think through any of it. She'd barely had the energy to arm her defenses and slip on her gas mask before she passed out.
It was probably a good thing; she'd been too addled then to grasp exactly what madness she'd just embarked on. Even now, it was hard to focus on anything but the fact that Daniel was probably awake somewhere. She was impatient to see him again, and yet also a little frightened. What if the crazy swell of emotion that had felt so natural and irresistible last night had evaporated? What if they were suddenly strangers again, with nothing to say?
That might be easier than if the feeling continued.
Today or tomorrow, or perhaps the next day, Kevin was going to call--
Ugh, Kevin. She could just imagine his reaction to recent developments.
She shook her head. That was irrelevant. Because today or tomorrow, Kevin was going to call and then she would send the e-mail that would make the rats scurry. Kevin would compile a list of names. He would go after his rats, and if she didn't act simultaneously, her rats would go to ground once they realized the danger. So she would have to leave Daniel here and embark on her retaliatory strike, knowing full well that there was a good chance she wouldn't be coming back. How would she explain that? How long did she have? Two days, at most? What truly hideous timing.
It didn't feel right to go into the day anticipating all the hours together with Daniel. It was dishonest. He'd heard the plan, but she was positive he hadn't thought it through enough to realize what it meant. So soon, she'd be leaving him here alone. Their time would be much better spent training him in the art of hiding. Some more shooting-range practice wouldn't hurt, either.
The feeling of anticipation turned to a sinking dread as her thoughts wound to a conclusion. Her behavior last night had been irresponsible. If she'd had any idea of what Daniel was thinking, she might have been able to work all this through before it had gotten out of hand. She might have been able to keep the appropriate distance between them. But she'd been taken completely by surprise.
Trying to understand a normal person was not her forte. Though, truly, someone who found the real Alex attractive was not a normal person at all.
She heard barking outside--it sounded like the dogs were coming back from the barn. She wondered if it was still morning or already afternoon.
She grabbed a set of clean clothes, disarmed the door, and snuck to the bathroom. She didn't want to see Daniel until her teeth were brushed. Which was stupid. She couldn't be allowed to kiss him again. That wouldn't be kind to either of them.
The hall was dark, the bathroom empty. The door to Daniel's room was open and the room beyond was empty, too. She ran through her ablutions quickly, trying not to spend too long at the mirror, wishing her face were further along the road to healing. Her lips were worse than yesterday, swollen again, but that was her own fault. The superglue had fallen off in her sleep and the darker welt down the center of her bottom lip showed some promise of changing the shape of her mouth permanently.
She heard the TV on as she came down the stairs. When she walked into the big front room, she saw Daniel bending over the console beneath the flat-screen. The front door was open, a warm breeze blowing in through the screen. It ruffled the curls on the back of his head
He was grumbling to himself. "Why does anyone need five different input options?" He ran a hand through the hair that was falling into his eyes. "It's a DVD. I'm not trying to launch the space shuttle."
His Danielness stopped her where she stood, and a wave of cowardice made her want to turn around and sneak back upstairs. How would she tell him the things she needed to say? The thought of making him unhappy was suddenly more repugnant than she had been prepared for.
Lola yelped from outside the front door, looking hopefully through the screen at her. Daniel spun around and when he caught sight of Alex, a huge grin lit his face. He was across the room in four long strides, and then he lifted her up in an exuberant bear hug.
"You're up," he said excitedly. "Are you hungry? I've got everything for omelets."
"No," she said, trying to extricate herself. At the same time, her stomach growled.
He put her down and stared at her with raised eyebrows.
"I mean yes," she admitted. "But first can we talk for a second, please?"
He sighed. "I thought you might wake in an analytical mood. Just one thing before you start..."
She wanted to duck away. The guilt was very strong. But it wasn't as strong as her need to kiss him back. She didn't know if she would get another chance. It was a very gentle kiss, soft and slow. He'd noticed the condition of her lips.
When he broke away--him, not her; it was like she had no self-control at all--it was her turn to sigh.
He let his arms fall but took her hand as he led her to the couch. Little zings of electricity buzzed up her arm, and she silently castigated herself for being such a sucker. So what if this was the first time he'd held her hand? She had to get a grip.
Lola yelped again, hopefully, when she saw Alex nearing the door. Alex shot her one apologetic look. Khan and Einstein were both curled up on the porch behind her, Khan creating a massive boulder of fur.
Daniel grabbed the remote out of his way, muting the TV before dropping it onto the ground. He pulled her down next to him, keeping her hand. He was still smiling.
"Let me guess. You think we are being unwise," he said.
"Well... yes."
"Because it's impossible that we could really be compatible, given the genesis of our relationship. I'll concede it wasn't exactly a Hollywood meet-cute."
"It's not that." She looked down at his hand. It entirely engulfed hers.
Maybe she was wrong. Maybe this whole retribution scheme was poorly thought out. There was nothing to stop her from running again. She could make back the money she'd lost. She could go to Chicago, work things out with Joey Giancardi, be a Mob doctor again. Maybe, given what she now knew about the plan to eliminate her, the Family could actually offer her some protection.
Or she could just work a counter at a backwoods diner and live without the extras--like tryptamines and opioids and booby traps. Who knew how long the IDs she already had might last if she kept her head down?
"Alex?" he asked.
"I'm just thinking about the future."
"Our long-term compatibility?" he guessed.
"No, not long term. I was thinking about what happens tonight. Or tomorrow." She finally looked up at him. His soft gray-green eyes were just a little confused, not troubled. Yet.
"Your brother will call soon."
He made a face. "Wow. I hadn't thought about that." He shuddered. "I guess it's better to mention this casually over the phone--by the way, Kev, I've fallen in love with Alex--than in person, right?"
She disapproved entirely of the tingles that snapped through her nervous system when he made his facetious practice announcement. That wasn't a word to bandy around casually. He shouldn't have used it. But still, the tingles.
"That's not the part I was worrying about. You remember the plan."
"Once he's in position, we send the e-mail. He watches who reacts. Then we meet up with him and..." He trailed off, his brow suddenly furrowing. "Then you both are going to--what's the phrase?--take them out, right? That's going to be very dangerous, isn't it? Couldn't we just let Kevin handle things alone? It seems like he probably wouldn't mind. I
get the sense he liked his job."
"That wasn't our deal. And, Daniel..."
"What?" His voice was harder now, with an edge. He was beginning to understand.
"Neither Kevin nor I will be able to... well, perform at our best if the leverage they have against us is in the same place the bad guys are."
There was almost a physical weight to the meaning of her words as they dropped, an aftershock in the silence that followed.
He stared at her, unblinking, for a long moment. She waited.
"Are you joking?" he finally asked. His voice wasn't much more than a whisper. "Do you think I'm really going to let you leave me here to twiddle my thumbs while you risk your life?"
"No. And yes, you are."
"Alex..."
"I know how to take care of myself."
"I know that, but... I just can't wrap my mind around it. How will I stand it? Waiting here, not knowing? Alex, I'm serious!"
His voice turned impatient at the end. She wasn't looking at him; she was staring straight ahead at the television.
"Alex?"
"Turn up the volume. Now."
He glanced at the TV, froze for one brief second, then jumped up and fumbled on the floor for the remote. He jammed a few wrong keys before the newscaster's voice thundered through the surround-sound speakers.
"--missing since last Thursday, when police believe he was abducted from the high school where he teaches. A substantial reward is being offered for information leading to his recovery. If you've seen this man, please call the number below."
On the large screen, Daniel's face was blown up to four times its actual size. It was a snapshot rather than an official portrait from the yearbook. He was outside somewhere sunny, smiling widely, his hair tousled and damp from sweat. His arms were stretched over the shoulders of two shorter people whose faces were cropped out of the image. It was a very good picture of him, both attractive and engaging; he looked like the kind of person you would want to help. An 800 number was printed in bright red across the bottom of the screen.
The picture disappeared, replaced by a handsomely aging anchorman and a much younger, perky blond anchorwoman.
"That's a shame, Bryan. Let's hope they get him back home to his family soon. Now we'll take a look at the weather with Marceline. How are things looking for the rest of the week, Marcie?"