Cara MIA - By Book One of the Immortyl Revolution - By Denise Verrico Page 0,80
contemplative, his head slightly bent, as if counting cracks in the sidewalk. He glanced over. Zowie! Those eyes got me every time. “Brovik and Ethan had a huge quarrel. Ethan dumped Leisha on us and disappeared.”
“And now she works with you?”
He touched my arm. “Hush,” his voice fell to a whisper, “listen, scent the air. Anything?”
I shook my head. He frowned. We walked the remaining block to my apartment in silence. I was still trying to figure out if he could be trusted.
“This is it,” I said, as we stood before my building. His bewildered eyes took in the battered, industrial exterior. “Come on.” I unlocked the door and pressed the button for the elevator.
As I unlocked my apartment door and switched on the lights, a couple of roaches skittered across the wall, disappearing under a baseboard. Kurt blinked at the glare, giving the apartment a dubious glance as I sat on the futon, kicking off my boots. I glanced up to catch Kurt staring. He turned abruptly to the window, pulling back the drape.
“Who are you looking for?”
“Gaius’s dogs.” He scanned the street below. “They followed me earlier tonight. I believe I’ve finally lost them. Have you been bothered at all?”
“Two rats accosted me in the park.”
He faced me, stricken. “Were you hurt?”
“If being raped is hurt, yeah, I guess so.”
“I’ll make it stop.”
“You can do that?”
“I have connections. Brovik’s made me responsible for you.”
My hackles rose. “I’m your concubine in other words?”
“According to the code, I cannot take one.”
“He’s giving me as a toy to keep you playing contentedly at his side.”
“His intention, not mine.” He looked away, somewhat embarrassed. “Should you choose however— that would be entirely different.”
“Now you’re being truthful.”
He turned his eyes on me. I could swim in them forever. “I never lied to you.”
“You kept things back.”
“In my position it’s expedient.” He turned away to examine a picture on the wall, the flat’s owner, a West Indian dancer. “Who’s this?”
“Beautiful, isn’t she?”
“It’s dangerous to take mortal lovers.”
I decided to have a little fun with him, dropping my voice into a smoky register, “Sometimes love is worth the danger.”
Kurt turned wide-eyed, disconcertingly teenaged. “You could be found out.”
“She’s on tour.”
“On tour… ” he mused.
“She’s not my lover,” I finally confessed. “It’s a six-month sublet.”
Relieved, he took in the tiny apartment. “You should have a decent flat. I’ll set up an account for your upkeep.”
“I don’t want Brovik’s money.”
Male ego took over. “It’s my money.”
“No one puts a leash on me.”
“Ethan left you penniless.”
“My suitors pay well.”
He winced. “There’s no need to— prostitute yourself.” Frowning, he tilted his head slightly to the side. “It’s wrong, that they use you so. You’re not a bird of prey, Mee-ya, but a woman in a very strange set of circumstances.”
He lightly brushed my cheek with his fingers. Tenderness was a lash and he laid it on hard, not out of cruelty, but it had the same effect. I pulled away.
“Don’t.”
His expression fell with his hand, distraught and sincere. “Forgive me. I want only to help.”
“No barter between friends, Kurt.”
His eyes, if possible, became wider. I treated myself to a good long look. Zing!
A shadow of a smile escaped him. “Friends then?”
“Sure could use one.”
I tentatively stepped toward him. He turned away, examining the piano in the corner. Opening it, he ran his left hand over the keys. His face relaxed subtly, as he struck a chord. “You play?”
“No, it came with the apartment.”
He tried another chord. “I could teach you. You are musical. Philip says you have a lovely singing voice.”
“I’d be far too intimidated. You played great concert halls.”
“A world ago… ” he muttered, turning his attention back to the keys, tinkling, fooling. He longed to play but was too modest to show off.
“I’d love to hear you play.”
His face curved into a bittersweet smile. “Sometime perhaps… ”
“It would mean so much to me.”
He looked up, a kaleidoscope of emotion playing in his eyes. “Truly?”
“Truly.”
“In that case it will be my pleasure.” He sat down, touching the keys lightly, getting a better feel for the instrument. I shivered, imagining those beautiful hands on me. Suddenly, Kurt was transported into another realm, where the pain and bloodshed of our world was left far behind, a place of infinite peace and beauty. Caught as I was in this nightmare, I marveled at how simply this act of sitting down at an instrument could take him so far out of himself. Or did it lead him back to his true self?