Midnight Labyrinth

  A stray thought entered her mind. “She doesn’t know about vampires?”

  He shook his head.

  “I thought you’d known her for many years.”

  “I have.”

  Tenzin asked, “Is she untrustworthy?”

  “What?” He frowned. “No, of course not. She’s very trustworthy.”

  “Greedy then. Stupid?”

  “None of those things!”

  “Then why not tell her?” Tenzin said. “Then she will know about us. You can be honest with her, and she will be a better friend.”

  “And she’ll be put in danger.”

  “Knowledge does not equal immediate danger.”

  “It did for me,” Ben said.

  “You’re not everyone.” She tapped his bowl with the edge of her spoon. He needed to eat more. She had plans to train with him later. “You were adopted by an assassin—”

  “Rare-book dealer.”

  Tenzin laughed. “He was an assassin far longer than he’s been a book dealer. As I said, you were adopted by an assassin in the middle of an attempt to upend an immortal dynasty. That is not the normal course of things.”

  “True or not, Chloe will be safer if she doesn’t know anything about vampires.”

  Tenzin shrugged. “She’s your friend.”

  “Yes, she is.” He started eating again. “Gavin is putting a guard on Chloe. Once I know what I’m dealing with, I can take the appropriate steps.”

  “And what do you think those will be? Why don’t you let me or Gavin deal with it? Me, preferably.”

  He raised his eyes. “She’s one of my oldest friends. She’s alone in this city, and her family has disowned her. I will take care of it, Tenzin. Don’t get involved unless I ask for your help.”

  In moments like this, she was reminded how formidable Ben would be when he was finally ready to discard his mortality. He was young, but life had forged him to be protective, particularly of the women in his life. He wasn’t showy; he never would be.

  But his hand was as firm as his resolve.

  Tenzin took another bite, then handed the rest of her bowl across the table.

  Whoever Chloe’s boyfriend was, she pitied him.

  6

  That night, Ben ran over the rooftops with her voice in his head.

  Faster.

  He ran and launched himself halfway up the side of the chimney, fingers finding holds more quickly than they had the night before. Within seconds, he’d scaled it using his fingertips and toes. He leapt off the chimney and landed on the rooftop across the alley, rolling into a ball before he sprang to his feet and kept running.

  Faster, mortal.

  On the next landing, he felt the skin on his palms split and bleed. Could he actually smell the blood, or was it his imagination?

  He licked his hand, tasted iron and sand, and worked out the gravel that had embedded itself in the cut with his teeth. He spat it out as he ran.

  Faster.

  Faster.

  Ben was reading the newspaper at Café Lilo on a sunny summer morning. It was Friday, and he had plans to visit the museum the next night with Tenzin. He hadn’t made much progress on finding the true owners of the existing Labyrinth paintings. The exhibition was put on by the very private Historic New York organization, whatever they were. He’d managed to find records of galas they’d sponsored, but no actual information about the organization. There was no office address. No record of buildings owned by HNY. Their phone number led to a polite voice and a mailbox. Their website only contained information about their current exhibitions and past galas, but nothing about the leadership of the organization.

  What were they?

  He heard someone sit across from him at the picnic table, but he didn’t look up. The picnic tables were communal seating. If it wasn’t a full table, you were expected to share. He glanced up when he finished his article and found a pair of clear brown eyes staring at him.

  Ben blinked. “Emilie?”

  “I love this place.” She smiled. “You come here?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You ditched me.”

  Emilie groaned and put her hands in her face. “I was being weird. I’m sorry.”

  Ben couldn’t help but smile. She was wearing a loose summer-yellow sundress—the day already felt like a scorcher—her hair was pulled to the side in a messy bun, and a straw fedora covered her hair. She was cute as shit, and he couldn’t help it. He forgave her immediately.

  Still, he had to play with her. “Being weird? Or overwhelmed by my charm?”

  She laughed. “Yeah, that must have been it.”

  “It’s okay. It happens to a lot of women.” He picked up his coffee and rested his lower lip on the edge of the mug. “I try to control my magnetism to set them at ease, but it doesn’t always work.”

  Emilie picked right up on the game. “So really you should be the one apologizing.”

  “You’re right.” He set his coffee down, lifted her hand, and kissed the knuckles. He smelled a hint of turpentine on her hands. “I’m sorry, Emilie. I hope you’ll forgive me for your overwhelming attraction. To me.”

  “Are you always like this?” She was trying to stifle the smile, but it wasn’t really working.

  “Yes.”

  “Forewarned is forearmed?”

  “Is this a battle?”

  She pursed her mouth a little. “Isn’t it always?”

  “Only if you’ve been playing with the wrong men.” He forced lightness to his voice. He hadn’t received a report from Gavin last night, and he was debating whether he should call Chloe or not.

  “Hey, what was that?” Emilie lifted the hand he held and smoothed her fingers between his eyebrows. “Everything all right? I really do apologize.”

  “Yeah, it’s fine. Another friend’s troubles on my mind. Sorry. So you were being weird at the museum. I didn’t think you were weird.”

  She picked up her own coffee. Black with a hint of foam at the top. “I was more than a little emotional. It was the first time I’d seen the paintings outside of family pictures. So… overwhelming.”

  “You mean it wasn’t all my charm?”

  “Not all of it.” She smiled. “That was just a bonus to the evening.”

  Oh, she could kill him with that smile. “So, if I asked for your number today…”

  She slid a piece of paper across the table. “My email is on there too.”

  Smiling, Ben picked up the paper, punched in the numbers, and called her. “There. Now you have my number too.”

  “But I don’t have your name.” She held out her hand. “Emilie Mandel. I don’t think I caught your last name the other night.”

  Instinct battled with caution. Real name or fake? “Ben Vecchio,” he finally said.

  “New York Italian?”

  “Born and bred.” That part was true, even if he wasn’t Italian. With his name, most people assumed, even though his blood was an even split between Lebanese and Puerto Rican. But he was born and bred in New York. “I was born in the Bowery, actually. So I’m not very far from home.”

  “Wow. Have you always lived around here?”

  He shook his head. “Moved to Southern California when I was young. I’ve traveled a lot for family and work reasons. But New York still feels like home.” Kind of.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet a native. I was born in Paris but moved to the United States to be with my grandparents when I was quite young.”

  “No parents?”

  She smiled. “Complicated.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I get that.” His were complicated too. They were both alive. He was pretty sure of that. Sometimes he even thought he caught a glimpse of his father driving a yellow cab.

  But did he want anything to do with them?

  Not a chance.

  “So when can I take you out?” Ben asked, changing the subject. “A cup of coffee isn’t going to be nearly enough time to get to know you.”

  She cocked her head, and i
t was adorable. She was a fairy princess and the girl next door. The girl next door if you lived in a little town in the south of France.

  “Do you like music?” Emilie asked.

  “I do.”

  “I’m going to the free concert in the park Saturday night. Want to join me? We can take a picnic.”

  “Damn, I’d love to.” He really would. “But I made plans with a friend to take her to your uncle’s exhibit at MoMA on Saturday—she says she doesn’t get surrealism—and I don’t like canceling on friends.”

  Emilie nodded. “Fair enough. I don’t like friends canceling on me, so I can respect that. Maybe dinner next week then?”

  “Sounds perfect. Wednesday night? There’s an Indian restaurant in the Village that also has live music on Wednesday. Does that sound good?”

  “Music and dinner? Sounds perfect.” She stood. “I should really go. I’m going to be late already, and I hate being late.”

  “But what were the chances?” He rose with her. “In a city this big?”

  “Exactly.” She smiled again, and it was as bright as the morning. “I can’t believe I saw you here.”

  Ben grabbed her hand and kissed the knuckles again. “It must be meant to be.”

  She laughed, pinched his chin, and waved as she walked away. “Goodbye, Ben. You really are far too charming.”

  “No such thing.”

  Ben watched her walk away. The newspaper he’d been reading caught the breeze and fluttered off the table. Whistling, he bent to pick it up and put it back on an inside table. His dark mood had lifted, and it was all because of a girl wearing a bright yellow sundress and a smile.

  Ben didn’t return home until nightfall, and Tenzin was already gone. He opened the carton he’d picked up at the food truck and poured it into a bowl, blowing on the fried tofu and spicy noodles. “Cara, turn on the television please.”

  “Which program would you like?”

  “International news. BBC or CNN.”

  Without another word, the news clicked on, the volume already tuned to his preferred level. He grabbed a beer and his noodles before he walked to the couch and toed off his shoes. He’d been sitting only a few minutes when a knock came at the door.

  “Cara, pause program.” The news went silent. Who could be knocking at the door? Visitors were rare because very few people knew where he and Tenzin lived. “Entry camera wide angle.”

  A clear picture popped up on the television screen.

  It was Chloe. Ben had forgotten he’d given her his address. But why hadn’t she called? Something about her posture pinged Ben’s internal alarms. “Cara, zoom entry camera.”

  Ben cursed when he saw her face. Chloe’s eyes were purple and starting to swell. Her lip was bloody. He dropped his food on the table and rushed to the door. “Cara, unlock entry.”

  “Entry unlocked.”

  He heard the click as he reached the door. He pulled it open and stared at Chloe’s battered face. She stared straight ahead, her expression a total blank.

  “Cara, call Dr. Singh.” Shock battled with rage, but Ben knew she didn’t need his reaction spilling over the trauma battered into her face. He gently took her hand and pulled her into the loft. “Hey, Chloe.”

  She didn’t speak, but she walked in without resistance. Her posture was pliant, but she moved stiffly.

  “I’m glad you came here. You’re safe now. I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

  For a heartbeat, Ben was back in his mother’s bedroom, shaking her shoulder and waiting for her to move.

  “Chloe?” Childhood memories battled with adult anger. “What do you need?”

  Chloe didn’t say a word, even when he sat her at the kitchen counter and lifted her chin so he could examine her face. His phone rang, and he considered ignoring it but… “Cara, who’s calling my mobile?”

  “The mobile caller is Gavin Wallace.”

  Cursing quietly, he pulled out his phone, keeping Chloe’s hand in his. “Gavin?” he answered. “Your guard—”

  “Called me minutes ago. Did she arrive at your apartment safely?”

  “She did.”

  “Audra called me as soon as she realized Chloe was leaving the apartment. She didn’t have your number, but when she told me her condition and which direction Chloe was walking, I assumed she was heading to your place and told Audra to keep her distance and make sure nothing further happened to her.”

  Ben glanced at Chloe, who still hadn’t spoken. “Is there anything else?”

  “I’m holding him in the basement. One of my men went in after I received Audra’s call. I am assuming you’ll need to call me back.”

  “I need to focus on more immediate things at the moment.”

  “Understood.” Gavin went silent for a moment. “Ben, I’m sorry we dinna prevent this.”

  It wasn’t part of the job to guard Chloe, just to follow her. Even knowing that, Ben battled anger. “I’ll call you later, Gav.”

  “Very well.”

  Ben set the phone down and took Chloe’s other hand. “Cara, is Dr. Singh on the way?”

  “He responded to the page three minutes ago. A car has been sent to his location. Estimated time of arrival here, fourteen minutes.”

  “Thank you.” Ben tried to catch Chloe’s eye, but her stare was still blank. Her eyes were both turning purple, and a vein had burst in one side, spreading a red film over the corner of her eye. Ben saw red welts rising on her throat in the shape of large fingers. He took a deep breath and kept his cool. “Hey Chloe, I need to know if you can talk, okay? I can see he had his hands on your throat—”

  “I can talk,” she whispered.

  “Good.” He squeezed her hands. “That’s good.”

  “But I didn’t scream,” she said. “I never screamed.”

  He forced himself to be quiet and listen.

  “I should have screamed the first time, but I was so shocked.” Her voice was hoarse, but talking didn’t seem to be painful. “Why didn’t I scream later, Benny?”

  He resisted the urge to hug her. “I don’t know.”

  “I was so stupid.”

  “You are not stupid.”

  “But I was. I am.”

  “Was I stupid when my dad beat me up?” he asked. “Or was I just stuck?”

  She fell silent as tears slipped down her cheeks. Ben rose and went to the kitchen sink, wetting a washcloth to clean her face. He dabbed at her lip. “Hold this here.” Chloe pressed the cold washcloth to her mouth as he went to get an ice pack.

  As much sparring as he and Tenzin did in the apartment, he had enough supplies to stock a small medical office. He broke two packs and took them to her, urging her to the sofa so she could lie down and ice her face.

  Minutes later, he heard a knock at the door. He left Chloe in the living area and opened the door for the doctor. Arjan Singh was a young Sikh doctor and a friend of Giovanni’s who’d moved to the United States to work for the O’Briens after his discharge from the British armed forces. His posture and bearing marked him the formidable soldier he’d been, but his kind eyes and calm demeanor were innately trustworthy. He was wearing a dark blue turban that night that matched his linen shirt. Ben hoped Chloe would be at ease with him. If not, Ben had no doubt Arjan could suggest a discreet female physician.

  “Benjamin, my friend, it is good to see you. I came as soon as I could. What is the emergency?”

  He ushered Arjan into the loft. “A friend of mine has been very badly beaten,” he said quietly. “She’s not saying much, but I believe it was from her boyfriend.”

  Arjan’s expression didn’t change. “And she did not want to go to the hospital?”

  “I didn’t ask,” Ben said. “She walked out and came here, so I didn’t want to push it.”

  “There might be no need for her to be admitted, but I will have to examine her to be sure.” He glanced at the couch. “If there are signs of head trauma—”

  “There are.”

  Arjan no
dded. “Let me perform an initial exam. We will decide after that.”

  Ben nodded and walked to the living area. Chloe still had the ice packs over her eyes. “Chloe, the doctor’s here. Dr. Singh is a friend of my uncle’s. Is it okay if he examines you?”

  She shrugged.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  She stared at the wall. “Yeah.”

  Arjan said, “Chloe, it is a pleasure to meet a friend of Ben’s, even in these circumstances. My name is Arjan Singh. I am a physician and a friend of Dr. Vecchio’s. I’m originally from London, but I am fully licensed to practice in the United States, and I specialize in emergency medicine. Do you have any questions for me?”

  She shook her head.

  “Can you sit up? Or is it too painful?”

  She pulled off the ice packs. “I need a hand.”

  Arjan’s expression didn’t change as he helped her sit, even when he saw her face. “Now, I am only suggesting this if you feel comfortable with me as your physician, but if you’d like more privacy, we can use Ben’s bedroom. If not, I am happy to examine you here.”

  She flinched when she tried to stand. “The bedroom is okay.”

  “Give me your hand, and I can help you up.” Arjan set down his medical bag and took Chloe’s hand. “Ben tells me you’re a dancer.”

  “I don’t want to talk right now.”

  “That’s fine,” Arjan said.

  “Where’s your room?” she asked quietly, turning to Ben. “Do you have… a robe or something? It’s mostly around my face, but he punched other places too.”

  Ben swallowed his anger and nodded. “It’s down the stairs. Can you make it, or should I—”

  “I can make it.”

  “I brought a gown with me,” Arjan said. “Let me get you settled and you can put it on. I think you’ll be more comfortable in bed.”

  “Okay.” Chloe was wooden. Ben led them to his room and waited in the hallway until Arjan came out.

  “She’s putting on the gown,” the doctor said in a low voice. “This is a friend?”

  “My girlfriend from high school.” Ben raised a hand. “Nothing like that anymore, but we’re still very close. She’s important to me.”