Raine Wynd
Disclaimer and Notes are in Part I.
Kudos to my betas: Carin, Cynthia, Daniel and Molly. Without y'all, I'd still be lost in Stonyland, wondering where I made the wrong turn. Thanks for managing to beta this while your off-line lives went haywire. This part is dedicated to Dana (I missed ya, girlfriend!!! You sure you didn't meet any cute medical personnel in that hospital? <wg>) and to Jam, for providing me with the links to um... interesting diversions, yeah, that's what they were ::smirk::, while I tried to write this.
This will make a lot more sense if you've read Part I.
Chapter One
9:45 p.m.
Worriedly, Nick glanced at his watch as he paced his living room. It had been close to five hours since Michelle had called him, inviting him over and requesting his help with something she wouldn't name over the phone. He'd arrived at her place to find the door wide open, the contents of her purse scattered on the floor, her sword abandoned by the futon in her living room. He'd quite naturally been alarmed, but then he'd discovered her asleep in her bedroom. He'd decided to go home rather than wait in her apartment, but now he was wondering if he'd been too quick to leave.
Something was nagging at his brain, something he knew he should've remembered, something — or someone — he should've recognized, but whatever it was, it remained just out of reach, as if he was trying to grab the mist of an early autumn morning. He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs, but still the feeling remained.
He told himself that he hadn't wanted to disturb Michelle, not knowing how long she'd sleep or how critical her request for help had been. It certainly hadn't sounded life-threatening, at least not on the phone, and she had sounded awfully tired. The apparent disarray of her apartment could have simply been nothing more than her usual housekeeping; he'd never been to her apartment before and had no reference point to use as a gauge.
He picked up the phone and dialed Michelle's number. Three rings later, he heard her answering machine click on.
"Hi, this is 555-9395," Michelle said brightly. "I'm only here in spirit at the moment, but if you'll leave your name and number, I will get back to you as soon as I'm here in person."
Nick chuckled at the message. "Michelle, it's Nick. I stopped by earlier but you were sleeping, so I left. Give me a call when you wake up and I'll see if I can help you then."
I'll give it until morning, he decided. Maybe she just didn't see my note.
Half an hour later, he gave into the nameless, restless urge that was prodding him, and drove over to Michelle's apartment.
Her car wasn't in the lot, and there was no answer at her door. Playing a hunch, he proceeded to Amanda's penthouse, but there was no answer there either.
"Damn it," Nick swore. He had a strong suspicion that Amanda and Michelle were out on the town together. Ten to one, he bet himself, guessing why Michelle asked, Michelle wanted my help in addition to Amanda's. Undoubtedly whatever she has planned was Amanda's idea in the first place.
He snorted. I'm not a thief. Just because I helped Amanda break into a building once does not make me a career criminal, or even someone who wants to be one.
He shrugged. I'll just check back in the morning. I'm sure Amanda will have a suitable lie prepared for this heist.
Amanda's
Penthouse
The following day
"Nick!" Amanda exclaimed as she opened the door. "What are you doing here?"
"Have you seen Michelle lately?" Nick inquired as he stepped inside. "She was supposed to call me last night. I thought maybe she was with you." He paused before adding, "Perhaps on a midnight excursion?"
Amanda shook her head. "No, I haven't, and she's not. As for midnight excursions, I have no idea what you're talking about, I haven't done anything." Her voice was a little too vehement when she spoke, and realizing it, she softened her tone. "Maybe she just took a day off and decided to go somewhere where she could be alone," Amanda suggested.
"Without telling anyone?"
"Nick, she's been on her own since she took her first head two years ago," Amanda pointed out with a sigh. "Even before that, she was likely to take off and not tell anyone. I spent half my time with her trying to figure out where she disappeared to. The more I think about it, the more I think she probably did just that."
Nick sighed, hating the fact that Amanda's logic was sound. After all, she knew Michelle better than he did, having been her teacher. Whatever Michelle wanted to talk to him about was probably something she needed time alone to ponder before she spoke to him.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to be late."
"Late? Late for what?" He followed her into the bedroom and saw the open suitcase on the bed.
"You're leaving?" Nick asked incredulously as Amanda began to pack.
"No," Amanda snapped irritably, "I'm packing a suitcase for the hell of it. Yes, I'm leaving."
"Why? What are you afraid of?"
Amanda shot Nick a withering look. "I'm not afraid of anything."
"Bullshit," Nick said succinctly, grabbing her arm. "Who are you running from?"
Irritated at his perception, she shook off his grip and headed for the dresser. She opened a drawer and shook out something blue, slinky, and entirely too provocative for Nick's imagination. Unconsciously, his gaze roved from her hands to survey her lithe body. He could see how the sapphire hue would look against Amanda's pale skin, picture her laying on the bed behind her wearing nothing but the silk chemise. He swallowed, forcing himself to not remember how she'd looked in the bathtub with him a few weeks previously. Even though she had been fully clothed, he had been vividly aware of the tight confines of the tub, and the pressure of her legs against his, especially after she had managed to pull off his shorts underneath the bubble-laden water. He remembered just how the black gown had clung like a second skin to every curve of her body when she'd stood up from the water, and he breathed shallowly.
She caught him staring and smiled a very pleased, knowing smile. Her dark eyes sparkled.
With a conscious effort, Nick refocused his attention on the question at hand.
"You still haven't told me why you're leaving."
"It's been a long time since I visited my villa of the coast of Greece."
Frustrated, Nick threw his hands up in the air. "You're starting to sound like Lucy. Every time there's a problem, her solution involves getting a passport."
"Well," Amanda said firmly as she folded the chemise into the open suitcase on the bed, "maybe Lucy has a point." She pulled open another drawer, only to have Nick slam it shut, barely missing her fingers.
"Talk to me, Amanda," he growled. "What's going on? I know you weren't responsible for the heist on Michelle's store, but the Williams estate looks like something you'd do." He sighed, sensing Amanda's reticence. "I just want to know, Amanda. Who did you annoy this time?"
"Santa Claus," Amanda shot back. "What business is it of yours anyway? If I took a few things old man Williams didn't appreciate he had, who does it harm? Certainly not you." She shut the suitcase, then, reconsidering, opened it back up again.
Nick swore. When will she learn? "Amanda, we've been through this before, or does the name John Ray Fielding not ring any bells?" He gestured expansively.
At the mention of the Immortal who'd nearly taken her head, Amanda's sarcastic expression crumbled. Fielding had demanded retribution for her theft of wartime orders that would've meant life for a battalion of men. Only Nick's intervention had saved her from a permanent death.
"Okay, okay, I was trying to avoid someone." She sat down on the bed.
"Who?" Nick demanded.
Amanda sighed tiredly. "His name is Jack Kryszka, and he thinks I can help him."
The name meant nothing to Nick. "So why aren't you?" Nick inquired, crossing his arms as if he already suspected the answer.
Amanda picked up a garment and began toying with it, stalling.
"Amanda," Nick growled warningly.
"Oh, all right," Amanda acquiesced, rising to her feet. She walked out to the living room and to the antique writing desk. From a drawer, she pulled out a letter, written on parchment-style computer stationery, and handed it to Nick. "Read it," she instructed.
Nick took the letter and unfolded it. The tiny silver dragon embossed at the top of the letter caught his eye first. Though barely a half inch in length, it was intricately designed, capturing a shy, bashful dragon, his blue eyes peering over an upraised wing. "Cute letterhead," Nick said admiringly.
He glanced at Amanda, who looked back at him with uncharacteristic nervousness and pretended to be fascinated with the pattern of the desk chair's upholstery. Nick returned his attention to the writing that followed the dragon.
His first thought was that it had been typed by a secretary or a business person; the structure was very formal, precise. Even the wording reflected a preference for proper grammar. His second thought was that Amanda had every right to be scared. Somehow, the lack of informality made the letter's intent far worse, and the picture that accompanied it — clearly showing Amanda in the middle of taking jewelry from a safe — was damning.
"The Williams estate," Nick said in realization. Anger colored his next words. "You said you didn't pull that heist. Amanda — "
"So what if I did," Amanda retorted defensively. "How was I supposed to know that someone wasn't just watching me, they were taking pictures? I thought I accounted for all the security cameras."
Nick's eyes flashed and he heaved a sigh of resignation, remembering Michelle's words to him. "Once a thief, always a thief, that's Amanda.... " He glanced over the letter again.
You will not kill my daughter. You tried once before, and you failed. Everyone says that she died, but I know she is alive. I know what you are planning to do. I have seen how you act around her. You think you can be her friend, but I know what you are. You are nothing but a thief and a murderer. If you don't want this picture given to the police, you will cooperate with me.
"Do you know this guy? Why does he think you plan on killing his daughter, or that you have?" He shook his head, not sure if he understood the logic of the letter.
Amanda shook her head. "No, and I don't know."
"No?" Nick repeated skeptically. In Nick's view, when it came to denying all knowledge of someone or something, Amanda was like the little boy who'd cried wolf.
Amanda glared at him. "I'm telling you the truth."
Nick held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, so you don't know this guy," he acquiesced, willing to let her slide for the moment. He'd find a way to verify her words soon enough. "How does he know you?"
She threw up her hands and began to pace. "The same way everyone else seems to know me? I don't know, Nick. I had nothing to do with his daughter's death. You know I'm not a killer."
"And I suppose slicing off the head of another Immortal doesn't count?" Nick sniped, hating the way Amanda was forever leaving him in the shadows, struggling to find answers.
He regretted the words as soon as he'd said them. He could see the deep hurt in Amanda's face just before she paced away, hugging her arms to her chest. "I'm sorry, Amanda, that was uncalled for," he quickly apologized.
Amanda ran a hand through her short hair and sighed tiredly.
"I'm not a killer, Nick," she repeated quietly. "What happens between me and another Immortal is part of the Game, nothing more." She paused. "All I have to do is leave, and eventually, this guy will forget about his crazy ideas and go away."
"You mean die," Nick noted bluntly.
"Well, if that's what it takes," Amanda said lightly. "Now, really, I must be going." She walked back into the bedroom, leaving Nick to stand in the living room.
"So that's your answer? Just run and wait until he croaks?"
"What would you have me do, Nick? I already talked to him once, he's not taking no for an answer," Amanda retorted, wheeling the now-packed suitcase out of the bedroom and into the living room
"You did what?" Before Amanda could reply, however, Nick held up a hand, belatedly realizing the value of her meeting with Kryszka. "Okay, so you met with him, and that's why you're leaving?"
"Got any better ideas?"
"You really think you can avoid whatever this guy has planned for you?"
Amanda strolled to the door, seemingly unconcerned. "Yes," she replied firmly as she twisted the knob and pulled the door open. "Besides, I just need to get — "
Detective Frost grinned at her from his position on the other side. "Arrested for the murder of Michelle Webster," he finished.
"What?" Amanda and Nick said simultaneously.
"You heard me," Frost declared. "You shot her up and drove her car into the river. We got a witness that swears he saw you do it all."
Amanda shot Nick a confused glance, even as he began to wonder if she'd just made Jack Kryszka up to throw him off. It wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility that Amanda had taken Michelle's head, though Nick couldn't fathom why.
"Amanda, what's going on?" Suddenly, Nick regretted his decision to leave Michelle's apartment before she awoke. He'd only wanted to give her some time and privacy, but he should've stayed, found out why she'd called him for help right then instead of choosing to wait until she was ready. What *had* he been thinking?
"I didn't do it," she declared emphatically, even as Frost took advantage of her momentary confusion to cuff her, and read her rights.
Nick started for the door.
"Oh, no you don't," Frost declared. "You're going in, too, as an accessory." He preened like a peacock over his apparent triumph.
Nick looked at him sourly, and though he was sorely tempted to say something in response, he held his tongue.
Torago City Jail
"Nick, I know it's hard for you to believe this, but I didn't kill Michelle. I haven't fought with her in weeks." Under her breath, she muttered, "It's any wonder the girl still has her head, she's nearly pathetic with a sword."
Nick heard the comment. "And you let her go even though you think that way?" he asked incredulously.
Annoyance had settled in Nick like a stubborn cold. Nick knew it was partly from having to spend several hours in interrogation, followed by several more hours behind bars while the police tried to locate the witness and gather more evidence. He was tired, and his body told him it was long past dinnertime. He wanted nothing more than to ignore Amanda and at least try to get some sleep. She wasn't cooperating with that silent desire.
"She knew what she needed to do," Amanda said logically, crossing her arms and lounging against a wall. "She didn't need my protection any more."
"What do you mean?"
Before Amanda could answer, the jail guard came in, and all further discussion of the Immortal student-teacher relationship was tabled. "You're free to go," he said unceremoniously.
"What happened?" Nick asked.
The jailer found the situation amusing. "The morgue lost the body, and the witness can't be found. No body, no witness, no evidence."
Amanda leveled a look at Nick that said, 'See, I told you she hadn't lost her head' and rose to her feet. "Well, then," she stated confidently, assured of her innocence, "shall we?" She started towards the hallway, then looked back at Nick, who still remained in the cell. "Unless you want to take up permanent residence here?"
Resigned to believing her, Nick followed her out of the cell.
Amanda froze as the elevator doors opened. Nick recognized the look even as Amanda swore.
"Someone else is here," he stated questioningly.
She nodded and took a deep breath. She reached for the button to take them back down, but Nick was already halfway down the hall, his gun in hand. Her finger hesitated over the 'Down' button, then she swore. She couldn't leave Nick behind to face the unknown Immortal alone, even though their arrest had prevented Amanda from taking her sword along. Foolish, headstrong, interfering.... You're going to be the death of me yet, Wolfe.
"You're an idiot," she hissed at him as she caught up with him.
"You'd still be without a sword if you left," he reminded her quietly.
Unable to argue with that logic, Amanda reconciled herself to shadowing him.
The door to Amanda's penthouse was open. Leaning in the doorway, holding Amanda's sword, looking disheveled and tired, was Michelle. A white lab coat made a nod to modesty.
"Hey, Teach. Hope you don't mind me borrowing your sword, but I seem to have left my place without mine. You know, dying unexpectedly doesn't leave much time for thinking about stuff like that," she drawled.
Amanda sagged with obvious relief as Nick holstered his gun. "Michelle," she said with a sigh. "How did you get here?"
"You know, looking you up in the phone book was easy," Michelle replied casually. "Finding this place, well, I didn't think I was going to find it as easily as that was. Oh, and could I borrow some clothes?"
"Well," Amanda declared brightly as she hugged the younger woman, "now that you've found me, I think I can come up with something."
Chapter Two
Jack Kryszka's House
"You said you'd help me," Jack said thickly, his words slurred by his broken nose. He sat on the couch in the living room and watched the way the lamplight refracted off the diamonds and rubies in the dragon pendant necklace in his hands.
His heavyset male visitor stared at Jack, hate twisting his chipmunk-like features into a gross parody. "You wanted have Jennifer back, didn't you? I practically gave you her identical twin, and you screwed up. I even told you who killed Jennifer, and you screwed that one up too. You were supposed to kidnap Amanda Montrose, not Michelle. We could've used her, but you had to go your own way, didn't you?"
"I just wanted to hold her, make her love me again like she used to," Jack said mournfully, his hands restlessly stroking the dragon in his hands. He failed to notice his visitor now held a gun. "Besides, Amanda said she didn't do it, Dave."
"Well, she's right," Dave replied.
Confused, Jack looked at his partner. "But you said Amanda did it." Belatedly, he realized Dave held a gun, and it was pointed directly at him. "Why are you holding that?"
Dave smiled like a dragon at the thought of his next meal. "I lied. It was me. And now I don't have to share anything with you." He pulled the trigger, loving the sexual thrill the act brought him, knowing that his aim was true despite the gloves he wore, which made pulling the trigger more difficult.
Jack fell to the floor, a horrified expression freezing on his face as he realized too late his supposed friend's treachery.
Dave knelt beside the older man, checking for a pulse. Satisfied there was none, he rose to his feet. His plan was working out beautifully, though he hated having to do without Amanda Montrose taking the blame for everything. It would've made his plan so much sweeter, but there was something to be said for simplicity. He grinned at the thought.
Sticking the gun in his pants, he then ransacked the house, making it seem as though Jack had surprised a burglar who'd shot him. He whistled as he worked.
It really was a pity that he'd had to kill Michelle, he mused. He'd liked her, but then he wasn't about to take the chance that Kryszka had revealed their partnership. He cursed Kryszka's blundering. The old man couldn't accept that his daughter was dead, and that her murder would go unsolved. He should've been out kidnapping Amanda instead of Michelle, but no matter. Dave had done without a partner before, and he would do it again.
Tonight, Dave would execute the final phase of his plan. Soon, he'd fade across the horizon to another jewelry store in another town. He trembled in anticipation and felt his desire grow. Taking a deep breath, he willed his arousal to fade.
No sense in getting too excited now, he reminded himself. Ignoring the corpse, he picked up the phone.
"Hello, 911?" He made his voice shaky, as if he'd just stumbled onto the scene. "My friend — oh my God, someone just shot him — please, can you help?" He listened for a moment, then added, "Wait! I think I see the guy who did it!!" He dropped the phone and scurried like a rat out the door, barely concealing his amusement as he did so.
Amanda's Penthouse
"Do you know who tried to kill you?" Nick asked after Michelle had a chance to shower and change into the clothes Amanda lent her.
"I died, Nick," Michelle pointed out gently from her position on the couch opposite Nick, "therefore, they succeeded in killing me. They just didn't know it wasn't a permanent thing for me." She took a sip of the whiskey Amanda had poured for her a few minutes earlier. "But to answer your question, no I don't. I came home after Kryszka kidnapped me, called you, fell asleep. The next thing I know, I'm waking up in the morgue." She shuddered. "God, I hate that part."
Amanda smiled sympathetically at her former protégé as she curled up into a corner of the couch next to Michelle.. "Could be worse, you know."
Michelle rolled her eyes. "Spare me the 'I've been thrown on a pile of rotting corpses, a modern morgue is nothing in comparison' story. I hate dying."
Not knowing what to say to that, Nick opted for the familiar exercise of interrogation. "You said Kryszka kidnapped you?"
Michelle shuddered again. "Yeah. He had this fixation that I was his daughter or something."
Nick locked gazes with Amanda.
"What?" Michelle ventured, noticing the silent exchange. "Did he do something to you?"
"He threatened Amanda."
Michelle looked at her former teacher in surprise. "Is that why there's a suitcase sitting in your bedroom?" Not waiting for a reply, she continued, "I don't blame you. The guy's nuts."
"Want to join me?" Amanda asked, half-seriously. "We could spend the winter in Greece, or maybe somewhere nice and tropical?"
"And you're just going to let this guy get away with murder and extortion?" Nick questioned incredulously. "Someone went to a lot of trouble to make sure Michelle was dead and out of the way for a reason. You didn't piss anyone off that you work with, did you?"
Michelle shook her head. "Hardly. I get along with everybody. I don't have any enemies. "
"What are you thinking, Nick?" Amanda wondered. "You think someone Michelle works with might have helped?"
"Why would anyone do that?" Michelle moaned. "I haven't done anything to anyone."
Nick rubbed his face tiredly. "I don't know." He pulled his cellular phone out of his pocket and began dialing. "But I do think finding out where Kryszka is now might be the place to start."
Nick swore as he hung up the phone twenty minutes later.
"What's wrong?" Michelle asked. "Your buddy doesn't know where Kryszka is?"
"Oh he knows," Nick assured her. "The morgue," he said sourly. "Someone apparently tried to rob him and killed him instead."
"Good then," Michelle said happily.
"You sure that Jack's not one of you?"
"Trust me, Nick," Michelle replied dryly, "he's as mortal as you are." She smiled as a thought occurred to her. "Guess if he's dead, then I don't have to worry about it. I can just go on with my life."
"Don't you think it's a little too coincidental that right after you escape, Kryszka turns up dead?" Nick responded.
"Nick's right," Amanda agreed. "Though I'm not one to turn down a stroke of luck like that."
Michelle threw up her hands. "What does it matter?" Impatience rippled through her voice. "The creep is dead, you're both off the hook, and it's time for me to go find a new identity." She turned to Nick. "Care to drive me over to my place so I can grab my sword and we'll go name hunting?"
"Name hunting?" Nick looked confused and looked to Amanda.
"In a cemetery," Amanda clarified with a smile. "You'll see."
Nick wasn't so sure he would, but he agreed to leave anyway, taking Michelle with him. Amanda declined, citing a need to run a few errands.
"So now that you have a name," Nick began as he and Michelle strolled through the cemetery towards the parking lot roughly an hour later, "what will you do?"
"Get a birth certificate and all the other identification," Michelle replied. "After that?" She shrugged. "I get to start over again somewhere else."
"You don't sound excited."
Michelle paused just at the edge of the parking lot. "If you had a thousand chances to start over, would you?"
"Not for the price you pay for those chances," Nick answered without hesitation. He studied his companion a moment, seeing the resigned acceptance in her eyes. "Guess you don't like that piper too much."
"You could say that." Michelle chuckled ruefully and they started moving again towards Nick's sport utility vehicle, a Ford Bronco.
Once settled in the vehicle, Michelle asked, "Do you mind if we run by the store? I want to make sure I didn't leave anything behind."
"Do you think that's a good idea?" Nick questioned as he started the engine. "Maybe you ought to wait till after the store is closed, so you don't get recognized."
Michelle banged her hand on the dashboard. "God, I hate dying," she cursed softly. "It always screws up my life."
Nick suppressed a chuckle as Michelle sighed in frustration. Somehow, he didn't think she'd find her statement as funny as he did.
"I don't have my keys to the store," she continued, thinking aloud. "They were on the same key ring as my car keys." Michelle stopped talking as a thought occurred to her. "I could get Amanda to help, though."
"Do I really want to know this?" Nick asked, half-serious. "You're going to break in?"
He glanced over to his companion and caught sight of the determined cast to her face. "Forget I asked the question."
Michelle chuckled. "Come on, Nick," she chided, "surely you've learned that anyone who hangs around Amanda long enough does a B & E at least once." She considered the thought a moment. "We both could learn something from this. I know I never really paid attention before when Amanda was trying to show me."
Nick pulled the vehicle to a stop at the intersection of the road from the cemetery and the main road. As he waited for the light to change, he looked at Michelle and asked, "Are all Immortals this willing to break the law, or is it just everyone Amanda knows?"
His passenger laughed and shook her head.
"Good," Nick said, relieved, as the light turned green.
Chapter Three
Around midnight
"This is better be worth it," Nick declared as he pulled his Bronco into the parking lot of De Marci's Jewelers.
"Oh, will you quit being a spoilsport?" Amanda chided as she picked up her gear and evacuated the vehicle. "We're not going to get caught, if that's what you're worried about. This is fun. Michelle, are you ready?"
Michelle stepped out onto the blacktop a second behind Amanda. "As ready as I'm going to be." Unconsciously, she pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to ease the churning she felt, and took a deep breath. She trusted Amanda's skill implicitly, but she couldn't help feeling a little apprehensive. She'd spent the majority of the evening going over the store's security measures with Amanda, and hoped she hadn't forgotten anything. She glanced around the dimly lit parking lot, seeing a dark-colored Volvo sedan sitting forlornly in a spot close to the door.
That's weird, she thought. I could've sworn that was parked closer to the back of the lot when I was here last. She shrugged. Guess someone tried to move it. That thing has been sitting here for days.
Dismissing the car, Michelle followed Amanda to the back door.
"You said the back door is wired into the alarm," Amanda stated. "Anything else it's wired into?"
Michelle shook her head, then realized Amanda couldn't see the movement clearly in the semi-darkness. "No," she told Amanda. "After the first robbery, I tried to get Corporate to upgrade the security, especially after you pointed out the flaws, but they said they'd take it under advisement, whatever that means."
Amanda smiled. "Well, lucky us, then." She pulled out an oddball mix of electronics and gadgetry Michelle didn't recognize and began working on the door.
A few moments later, she tried the door. "Open sesame," she announced as she pulled open the door.
Michelle stifled a giggle and stepped inside.
"You know, I could just look around," Amanda began.
"You promised Nick and me you wouldn't go in," Michelle reminded her.
Amanda pouted, but kept her word.
Michelle realized something was wrong the moment she stepped inside. She could hear someone whistling. A quick glance at the display on the security panel by the door read "Disarmed." A check of the VCR tied into the security cameras showed it was off, as well. Michelle remembered Dave saying something about the VCR needing repair. He'd said that it was fixed, but....
That shouldn't be. Amanda said she was just going to bypass the circuit, fool the system into thinking that it was still active. Someone who knows the code for the system, who knows about the store security to know precisely what to turn off, is here. That doesn't make sense. There are only two other people who know the code besides me, and who in the world would be on the floor at this time of night?
Quietly, Michelle slipped out of the back room/office. Already tense from the break-in, she felt her nerves tighten like a guitarist replacing the strings on his instrument. She closed her eyes, willing for calm.
Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and stepped out onto the floor.
Almost immediately, she wished she hadn't. Even in the semi-darkness, she recognized the person moving industrially from showcase to showcase, stuffing jewelry into a dark-colored sack, a flashlight illuminating his choices. She stood there in the shadows of the doorway as shock siphoned the blood from her face. For a long moment, the feeling felt like a tornado ripping through her soul. She stared, speechless, as her disbelief slowly gave way to a rising fury.
She'd trained him.
Trusted him.
Considered him to be dangerous only to the people who would actually take him up on his constant and meaningless flirtation.
And now he was robbing the store.
She wondered if he'd been the cause of the first robbery. It would make sense, she decided. Taking the cash would test the system, see if the store made any modifications to its security. Michelle was all too aware none had been made. The loss had just been written off as a cost of doing business.
She inhaled deeply as a deep sense of hurt and rage filled her. She couldn't believe that Dave was robbing the store. The proof, though, was right before her eyes, as clear as a fine diamond. She had to do something, stop him. Not giving herself a chance to ponder her actions, she moved forward.
"Naughty, naughty, naughty," a female voice chided frostily.
Startled, Dave turned, dropping the sack of jewelry. It landed on his foot with a painful thud and he winced.
"You're supposed to be dead," Dave whispered in shock, forgetting the pain, as a familiar figure slipped out of the shadows.
Michelle smiled tightly. A part of her couldn't believe he was violent enough to have killed her. He seemed so harmless, so annoyingly flirtatious, that she almost, almost could forget the pain that he'd caused her. "Surprise, surprise," she drawled. "You know, I really trusted you."
"I shot you," Dave stammered, unable to believe what he was seeing. "You had no pulse. Nobody survives that and a drowning."
"As a friend of mine said once, I'm hard to kill." Michelle advanced until she stood directly before him. "Why'd you do it, Dave? Why did you try to kill me?"
Dave quickly thought through the ramifications of her presence. She must've been wearing a vest, or else he'd missed somehow, or someone had rescued her. Something had to have happened, but he wasn't going to waste time trying to figure it out. He had a self-imposed deadline to meet. There was only one way to deal with Michelle's unwanted presence. He picked up the bag that he'd dropped.
Pulling his gun out of the bag he'd been using to stash his loot, he aimed it at her. "No matter. I'll just make sure you stay dead this time."
Conversationally, he added, "I'm sorry that you had to discover this. But killing you will just make this so much sweeter."
"Why not just take the jewels and be content?"
"I can't let you tell on me, now, can I?" His voice became passionate. "I've done this a hundred times," he bragged, unable to resist a captive audience. "Kill a senior employee, steal the jewels, and walk away grieving over my beloved coworker's tragic death at the hands of the city's most notorious thief. I love knowing I can control this, that you'll beg me not to kill you, even offer yourself to me just to save a few pretty stones."
Michelle lifted her head defiantly even as her mind revolted against the sickening image Dave painted. "For you?" she asked scathingly. Her gaze raked his chubby body up and down. "I've never fucked a potato, and I don't intend to start now."
"Then you die," Dave sneered, and pulled the trigger.
Pain mushroomed in Michelle's chest. She'd never been shot before while she was conscious, and suddenly, time seemed to slow down. Every nerve in her body was acutely aware of the bullet's path even as her brain tried to form coherent words to describe how it felt. Without a doubt, she knew Dave had fatally wounded her. Even knowing it wasn't permanent, she still felt it, and couldn't help the boneless slide to the floor.
Dave looked at the corpse a moment, snickering. "Just like your cosmic twin, you're dead. Too bad you didn't beg like Jennifer did. Pity."
No longer needing the gun, he set it down on the floor next to Michelle and turned to his work. The unexpected encounter had fueled his excitement, and he found he had to stop before he lost control.
He whistled tunelessly as he methodically emptied the showcases and safe of the most valuable pieces. He was rather proud of his ingenuity. No one ever suspected a trusted employee, and Dave had made an art of becoming one. He felt no remorse about killing to achieve his goals. His motivations were simple: he stole and killed because he could, because it gave him a thrill nothing else in his life ever had, and so far, he'd gotten away with it.
Still whistling, he reached for the handle of the back door.
He never made it. Confused, he stumbled back, unable to comprehend why the room was suddenly fuzzy and growing blacker by the instant. Breathing seemed extraordinarily difficult, and he gasped for air through punctured lungs. He turned, not even aware he'd done so, and saw Michelle holding the gun, smoke still curling from the barrel.
"You lose," she told him.
Michelle turned away from Dave's body as it lost its battle with gravity and fought to control the bile that was rising in her throat.
God, there's so much blood, she thought as she dropped the gun. She caught sight of her trembling hands and willed herself to believe that she'd done the right thing. She could feel herself breathing heavily, as if she had been fighting. She didn't want to think about what she'd just done, though the moment was etched into her psyche as vividly as a DVD image. Something told her she'd be seeing this night in her dreams for a long time to come.
Careful to step over the corpse, the young Immortal slipped out of the store and crossed the lot to where Nick and Amanda were waiting in his Ford Bronco.
"What happened in there?" Nick asked as she slipped into the front passenger seat and closed her eyes.. "I almost went in — it sounded like a gun went off."
"Yeah," Michelle answered, "one did." She shuddered and closed her eyes.
Amanda exchanged looks with Nick. "Breathe," Amanda instructed as Nick started the vehicle. "We'll talk about this later."
"Are you going to be okay?" Nick questioned softly as he pulled out of the lot.
Michelle nodded tightly and forced a smile to her lips. Shakily, she answered, "Eventually." She took a deep breath. "I think someone better call the cops, though. There's a dead man in there."
Epilogue
Nick's house
Two days later
"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Michelle asked when Nick opened the door.
Nick smiled and opened the door wider. "No, I was just going to watch TV. Come on in."
She stepped inside. "I'm not going to stay long," she warned him. "I've a plane to catch, but I wanted to say good-bye."
Nick nodded, understanding. Michelle was dead in this town, and would more than likely not be back for a while. The incident at De Marci's had caused a brief ripple in the news, and would go down in the police blotter as yet another unsolved mystery. A part of him knew it was better that way, but it didn't resolve the feeling that he should have done something more.
He stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans and tried for a casualness he didn't feel. "Where will you go?"
Michelle shrugged. "My flight's booked to Las Vegas, but after that? I haven't a clue. Amanda suggested her villa in Greece, or maybe Bora Bora, but— " She shrugged again. "I'm in no hurry."
Nick smiled. "No, I suppose you wouldn't be."
They shared a quiet look before Michelle spoke again. "Thanks for everything. I don't know what I'd do without you being there the other night."
"You're a friend," he answered simply. After leaving De Marci's, they'd gone to Amanda's, where Michelle had explained what had happened. Nick was glad that Watkins and Kryszka were dead; if they weren't, Nick would've made certain of it. He quietly regretted not remembering seeing Watkins at Michelle's before she'd disappeared. He blamed himself for that oversight, feeling that if he'd remembered, he might've been able to prevent her death — even if it wasn't a permanent one.
"Yeah, well," Michelle replied, slightly uncomfortable with the wealth of emotion behind Nick's words. "I'm sorry I can't stay here." Jokingly, she added, "We could've taken turns getting on Amanda's nerves for a change."
"There's a thought." His mouth quirked in a half-smile. " You know, when Amanda said you'd been her student, I thought you'd be exactly like her." He stopped speaking momentarily as his gaze assessed her, memorized every detail. "You're definitely not what I expected."
She chuckled. "Well, I couldn't imagine Amanda hanging around a cop, either, even a former cop, so I guess we're even."
Nick nodded his agreement as a small silence fell.
"Well," Michelle spoke into the lull, "I guess this is my cue to go."
"Guess so," Nick agreed soberly. "I'm going to miss you, Michelle." Even as he spoke the words, he realized the truth inherent in them. Suddenly, he found himself wishing she wouldn't leave. Michelle had given him a different perspective on Immortality, and thanks to her, he felt he was beginning to understand Amanda — and Immortality in general — better.
"You be careful." Sadness made his voice gruff, and he was left with the aching sense that the admonition was not enough to convey just how much Michelle meant to him.
"Careful isn't as fun, or haven't you heard?" Michelle countered breezily in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood. Impulsively, she kissed him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug, blinking past the tears in her eyes, then letting go before the contact could fully register. "Don't let Amanda drive you too crazy." With that, she was gone.
Slowly, Nick shut the door behind her, a half-smile on his lips and a shadow of melancholy in his eyes. He thought about how his life had become a roller coaster ride since he'd first met Amanda, and how Michelle had been unexpected twist in that coaster's path. He chuckled ruefully as he wondered just what else lay ahead for him.
Probably more than I can imagine, he thought, but I can definitely see Amanda being a part of it.
— Finis—
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