State of Mind - 8. Chapter 8

Nora pressed against the car door, making herself as small as possible. Beside her, Graviel rolled a quarter back and forth between his knuckles. She watched from the corner of her eye, but didn't stare outright. The trick was meant to mesmerize her. She knew his ways.

The cab hit a bump, and the quarter fell, then stopped mid-air before floating back into Graviel's palm. He closed his fist around it. Nora glanced at his face, then snapped her eyes back to the window. Before her fidgeting gave her away, she removed her glasses and rubbed them with a corner of her shirt. Expression pinched, like he had a bad taste in his mouth, Graviel began rolling the coin again. "Nora?"

She rubbed harder. "Yes, sir?"

"Nora?" A warning this time – albeit a gentle one. She turned to meet his eyes.

"Sir?"

"I want—"

His cell phone rang, and Nora melted with relief.

Graviel's clipped, "Yes?" made her glad she wasn't the one who'd disturbed him. His eyes narrowed as he listened. "Richmond? You're positive?" He cradled the phone between his cheek and shoulder and extracted a tiny gold pen from his pocket. At his snap, Nora produced a pad of paper. She didn't look at what he scribbled across it. "When do they land? Yes, I have it. Is Petrova with them?"

Nora perked up. She knew the name. But did Graviel mean the father or the son?

"Thank you." Graviel snapped the phone closed. Nora's curiosity was piqued, but she sure as hell wasn't going to ask. "Nora," he said again, his tone the same, as if they'd never been interrupted. And yet, his face had changed. He looked bleaker than before.

"Yes, sir?"

"How did Aleck strike you, the last time you were bonded?"

"Sir?" Nora squeaked. "I'm not sure I understand."

"Did he seem troubled?"

"He seemed… tired," Nora answered.

"When he broke your connection, was he angry?"

Her hesitation damned her, yet Graviel showed no anger. He sighed and once again the quarter began to roll. Back and forth. Back and forth. Nora ripped her eyes away when she felt them drooping.

Graviel sighed. "What are you up to, Aleck?"

*~*~*

On guard for additional hostility, Aleck was surprised when Keev excused himself to make their arrangements without a single snide word. Left to his own devices, he paced the room, stopping to browse the titles in a small bookshelf. "Hey, these are all in Russian."

Grier roused from his thoughts. "Yes."

"Huh." Aleck frowned at the bookcase.

"Are you surprised Keev reads Russian?"

"I'm surprised he reads," Aleck muttered, sliding his finger over the spines. "Doesn't he have someone do it for him?"

Grier joined him and plucked a leather-bound book from the shelf. "I suppose he might," he said, examining the title. "That bothers you?"

It did, but why? That's what Grier was asking. Aleck retreated, plopping into Keev's chair and perusing the items that littered his desk. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut when he tasted another sharp insult on the tip of his tongue.

A knowing smile crept over Grier's face. He replaced the first book and chose another. "Who are these people you spoke of? The ones in Richmond."

"I'll tell you their names later. I'm sorry, but I've kept the Organization's eye off of them for ten years. I'm not going to risk that now."

Sighing, Grier snapped his book shut. "You still don't trust Keev."

Fuck, no, he tried to say, but what emerged was, "I'm starting to." He scowled. "The people in Richmond are old friends. Well, one is. From my childhood."

"You're still a child."

The criticism held little sting. Grier was staring out the window at the water, pensive once more. Turning the tables, Aleck asked, "How long have you known Keev?"

"Eight years. Longer, if you count how long I knew of him."

"He gets around?"

Grier shot him a look. "You could say that. Graviel wanted him very badly."

"Really?" It was hard to picture. Maybe because he didn't want to. Or perhaps because the idea of Keev being anyone's play-toy was ridiculous. Aleck had known the man three hours and already accepted that. "He usually gets what he wants."

"Who are we talking about again?"

Aleck laughed. "I'm beginning to see your point. Graviel and Keev – it wouldn't have been a good fit in the long run."

"Oh, I don't know." Grier had grown pensive again. "Life under his father's thumb is no picnic."

The annoyance returned, niggling. He was inclined to agree. Grier's portrait of Roman hadn't been flattering, and knowing he and Graviel were working together left Aleck uneasy.

Keev returned in a subdued mood, closing the door behind him before he spoke. "It's done. You leave in three hours."

"Thank you." Grier stood, and Aleck followed his lead. "I'd like to get some sleep, if you have no objections."

"None. Aleck?" Keev tilted his head at Aleck's blank look. "Would you care to rest?"

Aleck shook his head. "Too keyed up. What else do you have to do around here?"

"Ah." A spark of playfulness returned. "I'm sure we can come up with something. Grier, you're capable of finding a bed on your own, aren't you?" Keev threw the door open and ushered Aleck out. "I think I have just the thing. Do you box, Aleck?"

Grier tagged along behind, frowning. "Perhaps—"

"Get some sleep," Aleck said. "I'll be fine." Already the tension was spiraling higher, spurred by the promised challenge. He'd welcome the chance to work out some aggression. Working it out on Keev would be a bonus.

Keev shoved Grier into the nearest guest room. "Nighty-night," he said with a curt wave. "Don't worry about Aleck. I promise not to hurt him. Too much." He closed the door in Grier's face. "Come on. Let's see if any of my toys make you happy."

Aleck studied Keev as they walked. He moved with a fluid grace that Aleck lacked, but then Aleck also had two inches and a good twenty pounds on him. He bet Keev relied on all that fancy footwork too, something Aleck had never mastered.

They climbed down two sets of stairs, past various utility rooms to a set of double doors. Keev pushed them open and marched inside. Whatever Aleck had been expecting, this unadorned room wasn't it. "What, no naked attendants?"

Keev flicked on the overhead lights. "I can arrange for some if they motivate you."

"Nah." He took a deep breath of musty air, inspecting the floor mats and punching bags. Along the far wall, a bank of open cabinets held towels, tape, and other odds and ends. A bench ran the length, with pairs of boxing gloves lined up in a neat row atop it. Grinning, Aleck rubbed his hands together.

"You never answered my question," Keev said as they moved toward the bench. "Do you box?"

"I dabble." A pair of jet black gloves caught Aleck's eye, and he scooped them up, testing the weight. He guessed at least sixteen ounces. Perfect. "You?"

"Never before in my life." Keev pulled a pair of shorts off the shelf and begin stripping down. He threw Aleck some wraps. "And take your hands off my gloves."

Being right about something had never been so painful, Aleck decided. Twenty minutes later, he stood in a semi-crouch, trying to catch his breath while Keev danced around him, feet a blur. Keev's, "Had enough?" pulled a snarl from his throat. He straightened his stance and began to stalk him across the floor.

Keev blocked his next jab and cross – slippery bastard – but couldn't dodge Aleck's hook. He went down hard. Aleck leaned over him. "Had enough?"

Keev sighed. Through the headgear it sounded like a snake hissing. "I think…yes."

"Thank fucking God." Aleck left him on the floor and stumbled to the bench. He peeled the tape loose with his teeth and pried the gloves off, then sagged against the wall, grinning so wide his jaw hurt. His head ached, but the adrenaline rush was keeping it in check. So was the sight of Keev limping his way, looking disheveled and not one bit the uptight aristocrat. Aleck grabbed a fluffy white towel off the top of the pile and lobbed it at him.

Keev caught it out of the air before it smacked him in the face. "Thanks."

"God, I needed that." The endorphins sharpened his awareness to near painful levels. He felt it all. The trickle of perspiration between his shoulder blades. The pull of overused muscles. The cold air gushing out of the air-conditioner vent above his head. Keev's presence beside him, and the dual thump of their hearts.

"You're a brute." Keev wiped the sweat from his face and neck.

"Yeah. You're not bad either."

Keev groaned into the towel. "That wasn't a compliment."

"Sure it wasn't."

They both looked up when the doors opened. Grier's sigh carried all the way across the room. "Is there blood?"

"Nope." Aleck looked Keev up and down. "I was gentle."

"Caveman ego is not charming. Grier, tell him."

Grier watched from the door, saying nothing.

"I wasn't trying to be charming."

"Sadly, I knew that." Keev winced as he stood. "I need a shower. If you'll excuse me." Grier let him pass, but a look passed between them, something intimate. Aleck felt too sated to care.

Grier nudged the abandoned gloves out of the way and sat. He crossed his legs and stared down his nose at Aleck. "Did it occur to you that your little grudge match might have exacerbated your headaches?"

"I feel great." He turned his grin on Grier. "Once Keev takes a few punches, he isn't so bad."

Grier blinked. "That's the sort of statement that makes psychoanalysts come in their pants, you realize."

Aleck rubbed the towel through his hair. "What's a little transference between friends?"

"Friends?"

"He's quick on his feet, though. I was right about that. It's hard to get under his defenses."

Grier stood and offered his hand, which Aleck took. "Let's hope his luck holds."

*~*~*

The Learjet that had brought them to the island waited on the runway. Their pilot sat on the steps, smoking a thick cigar, sporting the same cap and shorts as that morning, though the shirt was now electric blue with red Mustang convertibles. He saluted Aleck as he climbed out of the car.

"Thank you," Grier said when Keev stepped out.

"Not as entertaining as usual, but I forgive you." He nodded at Aleck. "Good luck."

"Thanks."

Grier took Keev's arm and led him around the other side of the car. Aleck slung both of their duffels over his shoulder and walked away before Grier's quiet words carried to his ears. Privacy had been at a premium. It was the least he could do.

The pilot motioned for Aleck to hand him the bags, and he tossed them up before glancing over his shoulder. Grier was walking toward him. Behind, Keev stood at the open door to his limo, watching. Aleck raised a hand, and Keev returned the gesture before disappearing inside the car.

"Ready, kittens?" the pilot asked as Grier reached the steps.

This time, Aleck chose one of the seats, Grier took the one opposite, and five minutes later the plane lifted into the air, the pilot's voice ringing through the speaker: "I gave a letter to the postman. He put it in his sack. Bright and early next mornin'. He brought my letter back." He smacked his gum. It sounded like a firecracker over the intercom. "Goin' to Richmond."

They leveled off high above the clouds. "Feel free to prowl about the cabin," the pilot droned. "Should be smooth sailing." The opening chords of Crying in the Chapel drifted out of the speakers.

Aleck shook his head when Grier offered him a drink. The tension he'd shed was already creeping back. He flashed to the house by the lake, and the desperation in Grier's voice. Then to Keev, and the cat-and-mouse game he played with his father. To Nora, and her insistence he do what was required to stay safe.

"What are you thinking about?" Grier asked, watching from across the table.

"Nora," Aleck said. "My Monitor for this assignment," he clarified.

Grier nodded. "Nora Picket?"

"You know her?"

"I do. She's one of the best."

Maybe, but still, "She lied to me." And then I hurt her.

He hadn't been asking for comfort. Again, Grier surprised him.

"Nora has the poor luck of being very good at her job. I suspect you can commiserate." His voice grew thoughtful. "I imagine there are many like her, caught up in something they wish they weren't."

*~*~*

Richmond looked small from the air, a cluster of lights that fanned out to the east, like a glass of spilled milk. Aleck watched the city grow as they descended, already anticipating the visit despite the circumstances. His headache had faded without his usual potent cocktail of drugs. He couldn't remember the last time that had happened.

"Keev arranged a car for us," Grier said, strapping on his seatbelt. "Where in Richmond do your friends live?"

"They don't," Aleck said, buckling up. "They live in Annapolis. I didn't want to pick an airport any closer."

Grier accepted this in silence. "Let's hope they're amenable to helping us."

"That won't be a problem." Because they had a few minutes to spare, and Aleck felt it was time, he gave Grier the details he'd been holding back. "Their names are Amelia and Henri Baptiste. I've known Amelia the longest. We went to school together. Henri, her husband, I've known for about six years. He's a doctor."

"How have you managed to keep your association with them a secret?"

"With great care."

The pilot taxied to a hangar on the outskirts of the commercial terminal. At the door, he handed them their duffels, then fled back into the cockpit.

"Not very talkative," Aleck remarked as they walked away.

"No." Grier pointed to the bulky shadow at the end of the hangar. "That's our transportation."

The walk from the plane to the car wasn't even a hundred yards, and the area looked deserted, but Aleck's senses prickled. His step faltered. "Grier."

Grier glanced over his shoulder, and Aleck held out his hand. Stop.

"What is it?" Grier asked, turning.

"There's something—" He knew before he finished the sentence. Sensed Kaye's presence in the building beyond. Saw the red dot centered on Grier's chest. Grier followed his gaze down.

"Run, Aleck," he said, and Aleck did.

But not away.

He threw himself forward, tackling Grier even as he felt Kaye pull the trigger. He took the bullet in his right side, just above his hip, and it burrowed into his flesh like someone had stabbed him with a burning spear. For a moment, his body went numb and the sound was sucked from the night. Then he landed on top of Grier, and the world snapped back into focus. He stifled his cry of pain in Grier's shoulder.

Grier rolled them, pulling another scream from Aleck when his weight fell on the bullet wound, and they crashed against the side of the hangar. "Don't move," Grier snarled.

Aleck sucked in a pained breath. "No problem."

Rising to his haunches like a wolf, Grier went still while he scanned the area, then loped into the dark, his soft-soled shoes making almost no sound on the asphalt. Cursing his helplessness, Aleck watched him go. At least it was an even match. Kaye could no more hide from Grier than he from her. Kaye had a gun, but her element of surprise was gone.

Grier's voice cut into his head. Hide. Then, she's coming.

He tried. But every time he pressed a hand to the wound to stem the bleeding, the spike of pain took his breath away. Shock set in, dulling his reactions. He couldn't center.

Aleck! Hide yourself.

"I'm trying, you son of a bitch."

He closed his eyes. Cool metal at his back. Breathe. Pebbles under his cheek. Breathe. Concentrate. Focus.

The screen came down. The blood seeping out of his side darkened from crimson to maroon. The sounds he'd heard clearly moments before – the slap of running feet, the bang of a door – disappeared. The sharp smell of gasoline faded, and the night grew even darker. He'd done it. Grier had left him deep in the shadow of the hangar wall. Short of Kaye stepping on him, he was safe. Now it was a waiting game.

By the time Grier appeared out of the dark and dropped to his knees beside him, anxiety was giving the pain a run for its money. "Are you all right?"

Grier helped him struggle into a sitting position. "Fine. You?"

"Never better. Where is she?"

"She ran. Cowardly bitch. Can you stand?"

"Yeah." But Grier supported more of his weight than he did. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the fresh warmth spreading across his hip. "The car?"

"Compromised." They'd reached the edge of the building.

"Shit," was all he got out before Grier was moving again, dragging Aleck across the open expanse of tarmac. Every drop of strength went into staying upright while they sprinted through the bright light.

In the shadow of the next hangar, they found a lot full of cars. "Here," Grier said, thumping Aleck against the passenger door of the closest. "Perfect."

Aleck squinted. "A Kia? No way. I've got standards."

His protests fell on deaf ears. Grier pushed him in. "You'll have to suffer. The doors are unlocked. We're taking this one." Grumbling, Aleck fumbled in the console, found nothing, then flipped open the driver's seat visor. The keys dropped into Grier's lap as he swung into his seat. Grier scooped them up, shaking his head. "Under the visor," he said as he sped out of the lot. "Such sophisticated anti-theft measures."

"Maybe they want it stolen. Did you ever think about that? It's a Kia." Grier took a speed bump at fifty miles per hour, and Aleck yelped. "Okay, no more jokes, I promise." He fumbled to put pressure where blood was bubbling out of the bullet hole. "Just please don't do that again," he wheezed.

Grier killed the headlights, buried the speedometer needle, and shot up the narrow access road to the highway. Bypassing the entry ramp, he drove several blocks into the city before pulling into an alley. "How bad is it?"

"Hurts like a bastard."

Grier rummaged in the backseat, emerging with a wrinkled towel. Folded over twice, it made a passable bandage. "Hold that."

"Okay." It took Aleck three tries, but he managed to wedge it under his elbow. His stomach protested the exertion. "Don't feel so good."

Grier pulled back onto the road. "You need a hospital."

"No."

"Aleck—"

"Henri's a doctor. Just stick with the original plan. Take 301 north to 50, then east into Annapolis."

"What's the address?"

The information took forever to come to mind. Aleck recited it twice, gave crude directions, and Grier nodded. "I'll find it."

"Yeah. Okay." His fingers felt icy, and a bone-deep cold set his teeth chattering. Unconsciousness pulled like a riptide. Voices rang in his head. Kaye's. Keev's. Grier's.

"Hang on," Grier's voice was saying. "Hang on."