Текст книги "Pandora's Daughter "
Автор книги: Iris Johansen
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CHAPTER NINE
MEGAN OPENED THE ADJOINING DOOR to Grady's knock at six-fifteen that evening. He gave a mocking bow. "Dinner is served. I hope it's not too early for you. I want to be at the airport by eight tonight."
"Why? Is there a problem?"
"No, but you can never tell. It's better that we head out." He turned and preceded her to the white damask-covered table and held her chair for her. "You have more color. Did you get some rest?"
"A little." She sat down and spread her napkin on her lap. "But I didn't sleep."
"I didn't think you would." He sat down opposite her. "I ordered chicken and I found mushroom soup on the menu. You love it, don't you? I remember Sarah used to make it for you all the time."
"Yes, I do like it." Her brows lifted. "But it's such a little thing that I wouldn't have thought you'd remember it."
"Little likes and dislikes reveal character." He picked up his fork. "You love running in the surf, puppies, people who are honest and caring, and watching the sun come up. You hate food with mushy textures, ranting politicians, cruelly in any form, feeling helpless."
"Some of those things aren't so little."
"No. And they only give indications of the total Megan Blair. Try the salad. It's excellent."
She started to eat. "You remember all those things from that summer with Mama and me?"
"I always try to remember the good things. It always helps during the bad times. That was a very good summer for me." He smiled. "And you were a big part of what made it good. Sarah kept telling me how solemn you were but I never saw it. You were eager and funny and brimming with life. God, I'd never known anyone with that much energy and joie de vivre."
"And it didn't hurt your ego to know that I had a crush on you," she said calmly. "You did know that, didn't you? I was pretty transparent. Even Mama could see it."
"Oh, yes. I knew. I was... honored." He grimaced. "When I wasn't trying to fight off the dark side. I had to keep telling myself that you were no Lolita and I'd be sorry as hell if I seduced you." He shrugged. "Sometimes I even believed it. But if I'd stayed with you for a few more months, I would have been in trouble. I was only twenty-five myself, headstrong as the devil, and used to having my own way."
She could feel that now-familiar wave of heat moving over her as she looked at him. Everything tonight seemed clearer, simpler, every emotion keener and resounding to every word, every nuance. "I would have had something to say about being seduced. A crush doesn't necessarily guarantee that I'd jump into bed with you."
"It would have been a start." He got up and replaced her salad with the soup. "After that, I'd just have to work on giving you everything you want from me."
She raised her brows. "Like mushroom soup?"
"Ah, you've found me out." He leaned back in his chair. "I'm plying you with mushroom soup instead of champagne or strong drugs."
Mushroom soup, memories, and hints of sexuality that were more potent than any drug. She took a taste of the soup. "It's good. You chose well." She looked up when she was half finished with the soup to find him studying her. "What?"
"I was just wondering why you told me you had a crush on me all those years ago. You've been hiding your head in the sand about what happened that summer since I came back into your life."
"That's not true."
"You're right, only the parts that concern me."
"Maybe I decided that I didn't like burying my head in the sand. There was no reason for it. Why should I be ashamed of how I felt then or now? As long as I act according to my own code, there's no reason to hide anything. Do you have a problem with that?"
"Oh, no problem at all. I admire clear thinking. I was just wondering why it was manifesting itself at this particular moment."
She didn't speak for a moment. "Perhaps because I've recently had a lesson about clarity and weighing what's important and not important." She stared down into her bowl. "Life is important, keeping faith is important, all the rest is pretty far down on the scale."
"According to Edmund Gillem."
"And according to Megan Blair." She raised her eyes. "He died to keep Molino from getting his hands on that Ledger. But he was protecting more than the Ledger, wasn't he? He was protecting lives. Molino called them freaks. That means they were like me …and you. Right?" He nodded.
"I want to know about the Ledger. I want to know why he was willing to die for it."
"I told you that I'd tell you if you wanted to know. You didn't want to become any more involved than you had to be."
Her lips twisted. "I couldn't be any more involved than I am right now. Tell me about the Ledger. What is it?"
"It's a sort of elaborate, detailed family tree."
"What family?"
"Don Jose Devanez was the patriarch but over the centuries the name has almost died out."
"Centuries?"
"The Ledger was started in 1485 at the time of the Spanish Inquisition. The Devanez family was landholders in southern Spain and they were very prosperous. They invested in overseas ventures and success followed success. It was rumored at the time that they'd gained their riches from using devilish powers to draw ducats to them. The family was very private and stayed in the country away from the cities and royal court. It was only when the Inquisition reached fever pitch that they felt in danger. The local priests had heard tales that members of the family practiced everything from shape changing to predicting the future. Some of the stories were pretty wild."
"And some of it was true?"
"There was no doubt the family had strong psychic abilities." He made a face. "And it didn't take a crystal ball for them to see the writing on the wall. Torture and death. The priests accepted heresy about witchcraft and there was plenty of talk about the Devanez family in the area. Fray Tomas de Torquemada had recently become the Grand Inquisitor and the burnings were becoming almost commonplace. The family knew their only chance was to leave Spain and go where they couldn't be found. Jose Devanez prepared several havens for his family and gave the word to take off when he heard the priests were preparing their case against the family."
"Where?"
"England, Scotland, Ireland, Denmark, Germany. He scattered his family over most of the civilized countries of the world. He thought it safer for them. They were supposed to lose themselves in the culture of the country until they could go back home."
"The Ledger," she prompted.
"Jose knew that it was possible that the family members might lose touch with each other. He didn't want that to happen. He believed in the strength of unity. So he created a Ledger that listed names, addresses, relationships, even talents. It would have been disastrous for it to fall into the hands of the Inquisition, so he sent the Ledger out of the country in the hands of his brother, Miguel. Miguel was the only family member to know the exact locations of all the havens. His job was to maintain the Ledger and every five or six years, visit the different branches of family and get new information about births, deaths, etcetera. In that day and age anyone with a psychic gift was in constant danger of extermination. Most people think the Inquisition was short-lived, but it lasted over three hundred years in one form or another. If there were problems, he was to help the branch of the family in jeopardy to resettle in a safe area. He grew to look upon it as a sacred trust."
"Like Edmund."
"These days it's usually a volunteer who accepts the responsibility of maintaining the Ledger. The descendants are so widespread and so much time has passed that most of them don't know about each other or their history. The story has been passed down only through the core family descended from the first Miguel Devanez. Though from what I can gather that branch is large enough. Evidently it's a very fertile family."
"And how do you know all this? Are you one of the Devanez family?"
He shook his head. "I didn't know they existed before about fifteen years ago. Michael Travis has a library he's been gathering for years about everything to do with psychic phenomena. He came upon a document written by the priests who were given the task of investigating the Devanez family during the Inquisition. It was a report on the heathen activities of the family and mentioned the Ledger in some detail."
"How did they know about it?"
"Not all members of the family escaped Spain. Another of Jose's brothers, Ricardo, was captured at the border. He was tortured and eventually revealed everything he knew about the exodus, including the existence of the Ledger." His lips twisted. "The holy priests were as good at torture as Molino. It was lucky that Ricardo wasn't in Jose's confidence regarding the location of the havens set up for the family. He knew about the Ledger but nothing else of value to the Tribunal. Of course, they didn't believe him and he died on the rack."
"What about Jose Devanez?"
"He stayed at the estate until the last family member was safely away."
"And then?"
"He heard the priests were on the way to arrest him. He killed himself before they could question him."
"Just as Edmund did."
"Jose became a martyr in the eyes of the family. He'd saved them, given them new lives, and then protected them by taking his life. The job of being Keeper of the Ledger became not only an honor but the stuff of myths. Galahad and Lancelot had nothing on them in the regard of the family. But myths tend to fade and become forgotten with the march of progress."
"Edmund didn't forget."
"No, he had a gentle soul and was full of ideals."
"How did Molino find out about the Ledger?"
"I told you that he raided Michael Travis's headquarters to try to find information about your mother." He paused. "He found her records in the same file with a transcript of the report from the Tribunal on the Devanez family."
She stiffened. "What?"
"Michael was fairly certain that Sarah was a descendent of the Devanez clan."
"Why?"
"She had certain potential talents that were... unusual. He'd only heard of them in connection with the Inquisition report. He'd already sent investigators to try to track down the core family and there were preliminary reports in the file."
"On Edmund?"
He shook his head. "It's taken me years to locate a logical candidate for a Keeper of the Ledger. I can't tell you how many false leads I've followed. The family protects itself. Finally, I got a break by following news reports of supposed psychic phenomena. If it hit the press, then there was a chance that it might be a family member who didn't know they were Devanez and just discovering their talent. And who would be there but a member of the core family to help and find a way to suppress the story or make it seem phony?"
"Edmund?"
"No. It was a different individual every time. But I watched and made notes and I gradually compiled a list of possible family members. Most of them appeared not to associate with each other but I found one man who was different. He seemed to know everyone and was constantly on the move."
"And that's how Molino found Edmund too?"
"I don't know. He might have started that way. But I suspect his men found one of the core family and made them talk." His lips twisted. "It was quicker. Molino located Edmund Gillem two days before I did." He muttered a curse. "I was just two damn days too late."
"Molino has to be crazy, you know. I've never seen anyone that vicious."
"Ugly. Very ugly. And obsessed with finding the Ledger. So far Peter Sienna has gone along with Molino, but I think it's because of the bank accounts."
"Bank accounts?"
"There are rumors that the Ledger also contains a list of numbers of Swiss and offshore bank accounts of the Devanez family. I told you that the Devanez family did very well with investments. Over the centuries you can imagine how much wealth they were able to accumulate. That amount of money is dangerous. It attracts attention and that's the last thing the family wanted. They siphoned it off and buried it in anonymous accounts in case it was needed."
"And anyone who has the Ledger would have access to those accounts," Megan said. "It would be like tapping a gold mine."
"And I'd bet Sienna would love to do that," Grady said grimly.
"I've heard reports he's working toward snatching enough cash to set up his own network. He doesn't have a gang background like Molino and he's something of a snob. He thinks he's too smart to work for anyone but himself. But Molino doesn't give a damn about the accounts."
"You said he believes in vendettas?" She shook her head in disbelief. "He'd want to destroy any member of the family he can find listed in that Ledger?"
"He hated your mother. He hates you. Yes, and I think he'd kill anyone connected to you. He'd enjoy it. As I said, it's become an obsession with him. His son, Steven, was the only person he loved and Sarah took him away from him."
"He did enjoy hurting Edmund," she said in a low voice. "I couldn't understand it. That kind of emotion is …alien to me. It was so different than what Edmund was feeling. He was just trying to hold on and not betray his duty."
"Is that how he looked at the Ledger?"
"Yes, he kept thinking that he couldn't break. He had to protect them all." She could feel the tears sting her eyes. "He was like Jose. He gave his life for them."
"And you're hurting like hell because he did," he said roughly. "For God's sake, you didn't even know him."
"I knew him. After last night there's no one I know better." Her throat was dry, parched. She reached for her water goblet. "And he knew me. At least, he knew of me. Toward the end he was talking to Molino about me, trying to convince him I was no threat to him. I didn't understand what he was talking about. I didn't know why he would think Edmund knew anything about me."
"The Ledger. He probably thought information about you would be in the Ledger."
"I don't know. By that time he was practically incoherent. But I believe he was trying to protect me." Her hand was shaking and she had to put the goblet back down on the table. "I was a stranger to him, but he was still trying to keep me from being hurt. And all the while Molino was hurting him horribly."
Grady's gaze was narrowed on her face. "Tell me what he and Molino said."
She shook her head. "I can't remember. There's too much. It was all a horrible blur. I need to think about it." She drew a deep breath and sat up straighter in her chair. "But not now. There's nothing I need to do more than find that Ledger. I'm not going to let Molino get his hands on it. I'll see him in hell first." Her lips tightened. "That should please you. Isn't that why you brought me here?"
"If the voices were cooperative, I hoped you might be able to point me in the right direction."
"Oh, they were very cooperative. What a clever man you are, Grady."
"You have a right to be bitter," he said wearily. "I don't blame you. I made a choice. I did what I thought was best, but it wasn't best for you."
She opened her lips to agree with him and then closed them again. It was evident he hadn't wanted to subject her to that punishment. What decision would she have made if she had known Molino might be able to find and try to destroy so many innocent people? "I know why the Ledger was important to Edmund, but why are you obsessing about it? You said you weren't a Devanez."
"Self-preservation. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that the majority of people fear what they don't understand and their instinct is to strike out and crush it. The Inquisition was a lesson we should heed. It's much safer for us to move in and out of the shadows than be in a spotlight. Molino isn't rational and there's no telling what he'll do if he gets his hands on the Ledger." He paused. "Or what the family will do in retaliation."
"Retaliation?"
"Don't get me wrong. I'm not talking about a bunch of X-men. I'd bet most of them are bewildered victims of their talent like your mother. It's just that I don't want those victims pushed into a corner by Molino." His lips tightened. "I know what I'd do."
Fight back. And Megan would do the same thing. "You could have warned me what to expect in that trailer."
"I didn't know what to expect. I told you that our knowledge of Listener capabilities is limited. I only knew it would be nasty. I tried to tell you that much."
Yes, he had. "Well, now you know more than—"
Grady's cell phone rang.
He glanced down at the ID. "Harley." He accessed the call and listened for a moment. "Okay, we're on our way. We'll meet you at the airport." He hung up and pushed back his chair. "Sorry, no time for dessert. We have to get out of here. Molino's informant at the circus made a phone call ten minutes ago. Molino will have someone on their way here by now."
She stood up and headed for her bedroom. "I'll go get my suitcases. It will only take me a few minutes. But it's not going to give you much time to get us entry documents."
He frowned. "We can use the same ones to get back into the U.S. that we used leaving."
"But we're not going to go back to the U.S. Not yet."
His gaze narrowed on her face. "And where are going?"
"Munich, Germany."
"Why?"
"Because that's where the Ledger is." She stopped at the door. "At least, I hope it's still there. Edmund didn't get a chance to warn her."
"Who?"
"Renata Wilger. He gave the Ledger to her for safekeeping on his last trip with the circus through Munich. He was uneasy and he'd learned to obey his instincts." You re certain:
"Oh, yes." She smiled mirthlessly. "I couldn't be mistaken. He didn't tell Molino anything, but all his emotion was focused on her before he cut his throat. He was praying for her."
"Do you know anything else about where—"
"Nothing," she interrupted. "Over to you, Grady."
"Right." He was already dialing a number on his cell phone as she closed the bedroom door.
HARLEY MET THEM WHEN THEY dropped off the rental car. "You made good time. I just finished arranging for the charter." He made a face. "It wasn't easy to do since I wouldn't give them the destination. I think they suspect me of being a terrorist or something. It's only because I'm loaded with boyish appeal that I was able to pull it off." He turned to Megan. "You look a lot better than the last time I saw you. Did it ever occur to you that it would be a lot healthier if you stayed away from Grady?"
She smiled. "It occurred to me."
"Where's the plane?" Grady asked. "And did you call your contact, Biel, and arrange for him to meet us in Munich with the documents?"
"Hangar fourteen." He started toward the tarmac. "And Biel will be there waiting when we get off the plane. Megan's now Ella Steinberg. I'm Henry Higworth." He smiled. "I was that close to changing it to Higgins but I was afraid that someone would catch the Pygmalion connection and might cause us a headache or two."
"This is no game, Harley."
"Sad. I always try to lighten the burden." He gestured to a Lear jet parked outside the hangar. "There she is. Nice, huh?"
"Beautiful," Megan murmured. "Do you have him working on tracking down Renata Wilger?"
"Yes, but he probably won't have anything but preliminary findings when we get there." He stepped aside for Megan to precede him up the steps to the plane. "You didn't give us much notice, Megan."
"I wasn't sure that I'd give you any notice at all. I was wondering if it wouldn't be safer for both me and Renata if I tried to find her by myself."
"Independence raises its pesky head again," Grady said. "Don't wonder any longer. It wouldn't be safer."
"How can you be certain? You and Molino have been playing cat and mouse for years. He probably knows your methods and patterns as well as you know his."
"Good point. But I've tried to periodically alter my movements so that they didn't form a pattern." He followed her up the steps and settled her in a seat and fastened her seat belt. "And evidently you did decide that we could be of some slight service to you or you wouldn't be here."
"You seem to be able to hop over borders with no trouble and you still know things that I don't."
"And once you have no use for me and you've wrung me of all needed information, then you'll cast me aside?"
"Why not?" she asked lightly. Then her smile faded. She wasn't being entirely honest and she was done with deception. "I would never leave you if you needed me. I'm too close to you. I don't like it but it's there. But that doesn't mean that I won't walk my own path."
"That goes without question." He sat down beside her. "But it's reassuring that you don't regard me as totally discardable."
"I couldn't." She tried to smile. "What if Molino killed you? If Edmund had that great an effect on me, I think you'd probably haunt me."
He shook his head. "I'd do my best not to do that. I'd want you to go on with your life and not look back. If there's any way to prevent it, you're not going to hear my voice after I bow out."
She felt a wrenching pang as she thought of Grady dead, Grady gone. The intensity of it took her by surprise. She didn't want to feel this close to Grady. It was as if that adolescent summer madness and the sexual attraction she was feeling now were blending, becoming stronger. She tried to edge away from that whirlpool of emotion. "I wonder if it's possible to control any of this. Ever since I found out about how all this psychic stuff has been surrounding me all my life I've been feeling resentful. I don't like not being in control."
"Welcome to the club. I've been trying to find answers since I was ten years old."
"You knew you had a gift that young?"
"Yes, but it didn't bother me. I was exhilarated at the thought of controlling situations. Children are instinctive savages and most savages want to be leader of the pack. It was only later that I realized that I wasn't regarded as a leader but a kind of Frankenstein."
"When?"
He shrugged. "When my father kicked me out. I was sixteen and he said I could take care of myself. He wasn't putting up with having a weirdo in his house."
"What about your mother?"
"She took off a few years before my dad decided that I wasn't welcome." He made a face. "Maybe he thought she wouldn't have left him if she hadn't had to contend with a problem child. I was a big headache to both of them. First, they took me to social workers and a couple psychiatrists paid by the state. Later they gave up and told everyone that I was a little peculiar and to just leave me alone."
"Alone? That's a terrible thing to do to a child."
"Are you bleeding for that poor kid? Don't waste your pity. I was a tough little bastard. Feel sorry for my parents. They never wanted a child anyway and then they got me."
"I don't feel sorry for them. They should have worked harder with you." She added fiercely, "And your father should never have kicked you out of the house."
"I can see I'm not going to be able to convince you that you're rooting for the wrong team." His lips lifted in a half smile. "I won't bother. I kind of like it."
She didn't like it at all. Now a protective thread had been added to the mixture of emotions she was feeling for Grady. Just the fact that he had not tried to defend or justify himself made her all the more defensive on his behalf. "Is that when you joined the service?"
He nodded. "It seemed a good way to get fed, trained, and kept out ofjail. Of course, I managed to get myself in the stockade quite a few times before I started to grow up a little. Then I found my niche and I was on my way."
"I was surprised when Phillip told me that the Services used psychics. It was like something from a sci-fi movie. I always think of the military as being clear and sharp and no nonsense."
"They also believe in weapons, hi-tech or otherwise. They can swallow almost anything if it means winning a battle." He leaned back in his seat and gazed out the window as they started to taxi. "And according to Michael Travis's research almost everyone believes in some form of psychic or paranormal experience. In fact, a great percentage believes they've had a psychic episode in their lives."
She shook her head skeptically. "A great percentage?"
"Sit down at a dinner table and lead the conversation in that direction. You'll be surprised how many interesting stories you come up with."
"Stories being the key word?"
"There's an interesting theory regarding psychic abilities. Suppose that we all have varying degrees of psychic gifts but they stay safely tucked away in ninety-eight percent of the population. Michael has had MRIs and chemical tests made on the brains of psychic volunteers and the fluid balance appears to be higher and closer to the brain center. What if the fluid in that area contains a DNA factor that opens and enables the brain to function on a different level? If that chemical makeup is hereditary, it would account for talents being passed down through families."
"Like the Devanez family."
He nodded. "Your mother's tests showed an unusually high percentage of that fluid."
"What about your tests?"
"Not as high as Sarah's. Her results were practically off the charts." He met her gaze. "I'd bet your tests would be astonishing. Sarah said you were stronger than she was."
"We're not going to find out. I don't want to be a guinea pig for your Michael Travis."
"You may change your mind. I wasn't enthusiastic either, but you can't control a problem without knowledge. I'm all for control." He smiled. "I thought you'd embrace this particular hypothesis. It's much more scientific than voodoo, witchcraft, and black magic."
"Do you believe it?"
"I believe it's entirely possible. First, you have to accept that the universe is not necessarily laid out in nice, logical, patterns for us. Then you only have to accept that we're not all capable of seeing, hearing, and experiencing to the same degree the universe around us. Dogs and cats see and smell things differently than we do. Birds see more brilliant colors and nuances of shades than we could ever dream." He smiled. "I don't hear what you hear. I'm deaf to it. You can't do what I do. You don't understand it. Maybe every now and then someone who ordinarily has no psychic ability has a rush of adrenaline or a chemical shift that surges the pertinent DNA to the brain. For a second, a moment, five minutes, whatever psychic gift being suppressed breaks free."
"Maybe."
He chuckled. "But you do like that explanation. I knew you would. Your practical soul has felt violated since you were plunged into all this."
"You're right. I'm reaching for whatever sanity I can find." She made a face. "And maybe I like the idea of everyone having some degree of psychic ability. It makes me feel less alone."
He reached out and covered her hand on the chair arm. "You're not alone."
Her hand was warm, tingling, beneath his grasp and the pulse in her wrist was pounding erratically. He might have meant to touch her in comfort but it wasn't comfort she was feeling. Did he know? Dammit, of course he knew. He'd said he was sensitive to her emotions and she was being bombarded with emotion right now.
"Don't... touch me."
"Why not? You like it. You want it."
Lord, that was no lie. The tingling that had started in her hand was now suffusing her entire body. She was acutely aware of him. The tension of his muscles, the faint scent of spicy aftershave and musk, the heat he was emitting. Don't look at him. She knew what she'd see and it would only add fuel to the fire. Her hand clenched on the arm of the chair. "I don't always take what I want."
"Neither do I." He muttered a curse. "And this is a hell of a time. I didn't intend to start this now. It just happened."
And how had it happened? A mainly cerebral discussion and then this explosive sexual tension. "Then take your hand away."
"I'd better do more than that." He unbuckled his seat belt and stood up. "I'm going up to the cockpit and talk to the pilot and Harley." He looked down at her and she caught her breath as she saw his expression. "But you'd better get used to the idea. I could control it when I wasn't sure you wanted it too, but that's not the case any more. Is it?"
He didn't wait for an answer.
She watched him stride away from her down the aisle and smothered a ripple of disappointment. For God's sake, what was wrong with her? Had she wanted him to jerk her onto his lap and screw her?
She closed her eyes as the answer came to her. Yes, primitive, raw, any way he wanted. She still wanted it.
It would be a mistake. Right now she was on an emotional roller coaster and she didn't need to have sex thrown into the mix. She drew a deep breath and unfastened her seat belt. She'd go wash her face and give herself time to calm. By the time she saw Grady again she must be cool and composed.
Not likely.