03 The Fate Of The Muse - Marina's Tales (32 page)

He turned to look at me with wide, shocked
eyes, “Marina–”

The car suddenly appeared in front of us,
screeching to a halt sideways, blocking us from the exit. The
windows were tinted so dark I couldn’t see who was inside. Without
a moment’s hesitation, Cruz threw the car into reverse and cranked
the wheel hard, spinning out to face the repair shop’s open service
bays.

He turned to me with a wild look in his eye,
gunning the engine and driving into the repair shop. We flew out
the open end on the other side, knocking over a rack of tools in
the process, and screamed around the back, surprising some workers
on a cigarette break. The little convertible finally slid off a
curb onto the street, tires screaming in protest. We roared away
again.

Now it was my turn to look at Cruz in
astonishment, “Where did you learn to drive like that?”

He looked in the rear view and grimaced, and
I knew the chase was still on. We sped down a side street, and I
turned to see the sedan hot on our trail. I twisted around, and
kneeling in my seat, grabbed for my surfboard and flipped it up
over the back of the convertible into the path of the pursuing car.
On impact with the street, the board shattered into several pieces,
bouncing off the pavement and flying up into their windshield.
Their car swerved, losing control for a split second before
smashing into a fire hydrant. The last thing I saw was a stream of
water flying high into the sky, the black sedan hopelessly disabled
on the sidewalk.

Cruz turned into an alley, and Evie’s car
started making a horrible scraping sound. We limped along for a
while, finally pulling over and getting out. Cruz checked the front
end, while I looked up and down the street suspiciously.

“I’m afraid we shredded a tire,” he said,
“We’re on foot from now on.”

I was still shaking from the whole ordeal,
and I rushed over to embrace him, “Thank you.”

“Where do we go from here?” he asked.

We were just down the street from Bill’s
coffeeshop, and I reached in the car to scoop up my bag, “I know a
place.”

We hurried down the street, ducking into the
alley behind the stores. Cruz followed along, unquestioning, until
we reached the stairs leading to my studio.

“Where are we going?” his voice was higher
than normal.

I clambered up the stairs, motioning for him
to follow, letting us into the loft, closing the door and locking
it behind us. “This is my art studio,” I explained, “Nobody knows
about it but Ethan.”

“How long have you had it?” he asked, looking
around inquisitively.

“Only a few weeks,” I said, going over to
check out the window. “I’m renting it from Bill. It’s right over
top of his place.”

Cruz walked over to stand by me, looking down
at the street, “We should call Evie.”

I shook my head, “I was warned that her
friend Olivia is working with Edwards… and she’s using her to watch
me.” I met his eyes, “I could put Evie in real danger.”

“So call Boris then.”

I paused for a moment, and then smiled up at
Cruz. I was surprised at how I’d overlooked the obvious. Boris knew
all about the council; not only would he believe me, but he’d never
do anything to hurt Evie. I grabbed my phone and called him.

Boris listened carefully as I explained my
suspicions about Olivia to him. He made a little angry sound when I
told him how Cruz’s boyfriend Brad was really a member of the
Edwards family, and how we had just escaped a harrowing car chase
through Santa Cruz.

“Tell him I’m sorry about the car,” whispered
Cruz.

“Stay vere you are,” Boris told me, “I’m on
ze vay.”

I hung up the phone, going limp with relief.
The formidable Boris was coming to help, and I was confident that
he’d know what to do.

I sighed, “Do you want a cup of tea?”

We sat down on the couch together, and the
reality of the situation began to sink in. Now they were willing to
grab me in broad daylight, and they didn’t seem to care if Cruz
knew. I wondered what had changed, thinking that it could only be
the fact that I had stumbled onto Barbara Watson’s family
connections. But the election was a done deal; that bell couldn’t
be un-rung, and no-one would ever believe me about the
congressman’s death. I wondered why they would even consider me a
threat.

“Marina, why didn’t you ever call the
police?”

“There was no proof, and they threatened–” I
stopped myself.

Cruz looked confused, “That car… You think
that was Brad’s dad?”

“I’m sure it was someone that works for him…
or for his aunt.”

“Why would his aunt have anything to do with
this? I thought she was an environmentalist!”

I just looked at him sadly, hating every
second of the conversation, wishing I could avoid causing him any
pain. I wanted to be with Ethan so badly it hurt.

He studied my face gravely, no doubt
remembering how traumatized I’d been when I returned from my last
stay at the Edwards mansion, “Marina… What did they do to you?”

I paused for a moment, and started talking,
“It was these two big thugs that worked for Edwards– they caught me
when I went looking for Lorelei. I thought she was in trouble–”

“I remember,” Cruz whispered.

I went on, “They took me to the Edwards
house, down that hall from the garage. There were two locked rooms
on either side… windowless… with no way out… like jail cells.”

Or torture chambers, I thought, remembering
my first shocking glimpse of Nerissa.

He shook his head, running his fingers
through his hair, “I still can’t believe it.”

“There’s an elevator at the end of the hall,”
I continued on, “It goes up three floors, and opens into a wood
paneled room. Then you go into a giant great room, like Evie’s,
only bigger. There’s a library with thousands of books and two full
suits of armor.”

Cruz’s head snapped towards mine, his eyes
burning intensely. His already pale skin went a shade lighter.

“You go through the library into a trophy
room, and the walls are covered with all kinds of weapons. There’s
a huge stuffed Grizzly… a mantel with tusks…”

Cruz dropped his head, covering his face with
his hands. I knew he believed me now, and I watched as his heart
broke with the knowledge of Brad’s unbelievable betrayal. His
shoulders started to heave and he turned away from me.

“I’m sorry,” I scooted next to him and put my
arm around him, resting my cheek on his back. I could feel his
suppressed sobs shaking his slim shoulders, and I would have done
anything to take the hurt instead of him. I felt completely
helpless, guilty and angry all at the same time.

“I should have known… I was so stupid…”

“No you weren’t! You had no way to know,
nobody did.”

“Oh,
I knew
… I knew there was no way
someone like that would, could… really want to be with me…” his
voice was muffled.

“No… Cruz…” I felt terrible.

“I acted like such a fool,” his voice was
anguished, and he rubbed his eyes hard with clenched fists.

“You did not! We had no way of knowing who he
was.”

“I knew it was too good to be true,” he said
bitterly.

We sat there quietly for a minute, and as I
turned it over and over in my mind, it made no sense. Something
just didn’t sit right.

“Why would Brad have brought me there… blown
his cover… and then just let me go?” I thought about how wrong I’d
been about Ethan, “What if… Cruz– it’s possible that he didn’t know
…”

Cruz shook his head violently, “No, when I
think about how he was so totally into me from the first moment we
met… It had to be an act.”

“Cruz… it
did
sound like him and his
dad weren’t real close…” I couldn’t believe I was defending
Edward’s son. I sat back, pondering Brad’s possible motives. Things
seemed more confusing than ever.

Cruz lifted his head, a hard glint forming in
his bruised gaze, “I’m calling him out on it! I need to tell him I
know!”

“Cruz… are you sure you should…”

He got up angrily and pulled out his phone.
Of all people, I could understand how love made even the most
rational person crazy, and I knew better than to try and talk Cruz
out of it. He went to pace back and forth by the large bank of
windows. I went over to the sink with our cups, leaving him to his
confrontation.

“I know EVERYTHING!” he screamed into the
phone, making me jump, “Don’t play dumb with me!”

I could only imagine what Brad was saying,
but it was pretty clear that he was denying the whole thing. Cruz
was screeching like a wounded animal; I’d never heard him sound so
angry. “You expect me to believe that it wasn’t just one big set
up? That you don’t know your dad has a jailhouse set up in his
garage?”

Suddenly there was a loud thump that rattled
the whole building, and I ran out into the room, looking at the
door. Cruz’s eyes met mine, “It looks like your thugs are here for
us,” he told Brad, his voice shaking, “How could you do this to
me?”

I scanned around for a weapon, grabbing a
lamp from a nearby table. There was another loud thump, and I could
see the door’s lock start to tear from the frame. It was clear that
it wasn’t going to hold. Cruz ran to my side, looking around for
another way out, but I knew that I’d done it again. I’d brought
Cruz here to the perfect trap, just like the cove that had ended up
being Lorelei’s undoing.

The door flew open, and Cruz dropped his
phone. “Cruz? Cruz!” I could hear Brad’s voice coming from it just
as three men poured in, coming straight at us. Cruz tried to block
me, and two of them grabbed him, pinning his arms behind his back
and slipping a black hood over his head.

“Nooo!” I screamed, backing up, “Let him go!
I’ll go with you if you leave him alone!”

I threw the lamp at the man advancing on me
and he laughed as it bounced off him, crashed to the floor and
shattered. My arm was grabbed, and the last thing I saw was Cruz
being forced to his knees while his hands were being cuffed
together behind his back.

When the hood covered my head everything went
black.

CHAPTER TWENTYTHREE

CONSPIRACY

I struggled to breathe, and to beat back the
panic. I was half dragged, half carried, down the stairs and thrown
into the back seat of a car, forced to kneel with my head pushed
down.

“Cruz! Cruz?” I screamed, with no
response.

“Shut up,” a man’s menacing voice growled in
my ear, “Or we’ll hurt the boy.”

Something in his tone made me believe him,
and I went silent, swaying back and forth as the car sped away. I
could feel every bump in the road through my knees on the floor, my
mind racing as I tried to calm my ragged breath. I was going to
need my wits about me this time. If Olivia was really behind this,
she wouldn’t make the same mistakes that Peter had.

Why were they doing this? They had managed to
trick me into doing something for them once. Olivia would know
better than anyone that they couldn’t force me to use my muse
powers again. Fool me once, shame on you, I thought; their tricks
would never work on me a second time.

I should have thought to call Boris sooner,
or stayed away from the studio. They must have been watching me for
a while. And Cruz… poor Cruz! I had to find a way to make them let
him go. If they wanted something from me I could at least negotiate
for his freedom.

My hands were cuffed behind my back, and I
felt for my ring, relieved to find that it was still on. It was a
symbol of Ethan’s love; I twirled the stone around to cup it in my
hand protectively. Thinking about him brought tears to my eyes, and
I blinked them back with gritted teeth. This was no time for fear,
sorrow or self-pity. Now was the time for cold blooded, clear
headed thinking.

When the car came to a stop I could hear
muffled voices, and I strained to listen. I was pulled to my feet
and made to walk a short distance, my arms taken on either side.
When we came to a sudden stop I felt an elevator’s lurch, and I was
pretty sure I knew where I was. The hood was pulled from my head,
and I stood blinking, taking a deep breath of cool air with
relief.

There was a squat man with beady eyes on my
left side, his fingers digging into my upper arm. A tall, lean man
had control of my right side. His eyes glinted cold and cruel from
a pockmarked face, and narrowed when they met mine. Both men were
very different from the two guards I’d dealt with before.

They did not fear me in the slightest.

“Where’s Cruz?” I asked, my voice rough.

“Shut up,” the shorter one said.

The elevator door opened to reveal a familiar
wood paneled foyer. We entered into the enormous great room,
splendidly decorated with large, modern paintings and opulent
furniture. The last time I’d been in this room it had been fully
dark outside, and I hadn’t been able to see out the large bank of
windows on the ocean side of the house. I paused for a moment to
look out at the spectacular view that stretched from the wooded
cliffs below, down the coastline and out across the water. The
ocean looked like freedom itself, and I recognized the point break
that I’d surfed with Brad just a few hours ago.

I was jerked away from the window and forced
through an arched entrance into the library, where I was led to a
chair and pushed to sit down. My wrists were taken, and I could
hear a ratcheting sound as the handcuffs were removed from my left
hand, my right wrist yanked away and attached to the arm of the
chair. The first thing I noticed was the shining suit of medieval
armor, and I looked on the other side of the mahogany mantel to see
its mate. I sprang to my feet to face the door.

“Sit down,” the stocky man commanded, “Or
I’ll sit you down.”

“He said sit,” the skinny one growled at
me.