Against a Brightening Sky (5 page)

“Jack and Gabe are all right, I promise.” Libby looked between me and Sadie, clearly bewildered but silent. I was grateful she didn't ask a hundred questions. “Give me a moment to find the best place to wait.”

I turned in a slow circle, arms beginning to ache from carrying Connor. Searching the cavernous lobby didn't take long and I found what I'd wanted, a place to hide in plain sight. Comfortable-looking sofas, with large plush throw pillows, filled an otherwise unadorned alcove set apart from the main room by tall rattan screens and potted palms. Not a single painting or ornament to attract attention hung on the walls, a strange thing in the lavishly decorated lobby, but that made the alcove ideal for my purposes.

The space was sheltered and less exposed, but Gabe and Jack could still find us easily. I pointed. “Over there, between the pillar and the bellboy station. It's the perfect place. We can rest until Sam and Jack and Gabe arrive.”

Libby brushed long strands of dark hair off her face and started for the alcove, trusting Sadie and I would follow. “You sound so sure they'll survive, Delia. What with guns and explosions … I wish I had your faith.”

“I'd know if anything happened to them. I promise you, the three of them are all right.” “Skeptical” was the kindest word I could think of for the expression on Libby's face, but I let it pass unremarked. This wasn't the time to explain the strangeness in my life to Libby Mills.

I laid Connor on one of the sofas, his head cushioned by a green velvet throw pillow, and settled next to him. He'd finally fallen asleep and I chose to think of that as a good sign. Sadie settled into one corner of the second sofa with a drowsy Stella, while Libby sat in a wicker chair angled to face the lobby.

The interior of the hotel was brightly lit, a combination of the numerous crystal chandeliers reflecting and magnifying each other's light, and the mirrored sconces set into every wall. I was able to see people in the lobby by peering through palm fronds and the loosely woven rattan screens. Anyone looking our way would see nothing more than shadows or indistinct shapes, something that should have made me feel safer and didn't. Huddling in the darker alcove didn't stop the wariness grating over my skin, nor silence the voice telling me to stay still and quiet. I imagined this was what a rabbit felt while eyeing the circling hawk overhead.

Two men came into view, visibly angry and arguing at the top of their voices. The man shouting loudest didn't appear to care who heard or notice that none of the people wandering aimlessly through the lobby so much as looked in his direction. His disagreement might as well have been conducted in pantomime, for all the attention people paid.

The second man was keenly aware of the total lack of reaction by the strangers around him. He took furtive glances over his shoulder, watching the women and men milling about with a nervous expression I found all too familiar.

“Dom, stop and listen to me!” The first man, still shouting, grabbed Dom's arm, forcing him to halt on the other side of the rattan screens. I saw then he was yelling at Dominic Mullaney, head of the fledging labor union. Mr. Mullaney had been on the receiving end of the fighting in the square. His face was scratched, bruised, and dried blood caked one corner of his mouth. Broad through the shoulder, with a square chin and broad nose, he was easy to picture as a boxer. I imagined he'd given as good as he got.

Sadie and Libby gave me owl-eyed looks, but didn't make a sound. I put a hand on Connor's back, hoping he wouldn't cry and draw attention to us.

“Going to the police is a stupid thing to do. You'll make yourself look guilty and destroy the work you've done. Don't do the policeman's job for him, Dominic. Make him come to you.”

“The police already think I'm guilty, Aleksei! Running will only make things worse.” Mr. Mullaney yanked his arm free and wiped a hand over his mouth. “Father Colm tried to talk me out of this, but I wouldn't listen. I promised him we'd march and go home, that there wouldn't be any fighting or trouble. Some of the men brought their wives and children to watch the parade. None of this was supposed to happen. Mary and Joseph … all those people hurt or dead.”

Gray frosted Aleksei's temples and his neat, light brown beard. Deep lines around his pale blue eyes and mouth made him appear older, but I guessed him to be no more than forty. His slight Russian accent was difficult to detect, a harshness rolled around his words and into the rhythm of his speech. I'd known a friend at school who spoke the same way, but she'd grown up speaking both Russian and English at home.

“I've known idealists like you before. You want a bloodless revolution.” Aleksei slipped his hands into his coat pockets and shrugged. “Not everyone involved with the unions agrees. They want change now at any cost.”

Dominic clenched his fists and took a step back. “Those aren't my men on the roof. I swear on my mother's grave, Aleksei, the unions had nothing to do with this.”

Aleksei studied him, face expressionless. “Someone set
you
up, my friend. If your enemies bring you down, the union will fail. Whether you were involved or not makes no difference. You're the leader of a loyal band of revolutionaries, and that makes you guilty.”

“Stop calling us revolutionaries. This isn't Saint Petersburg or Moscow.” Dominic glanced over his shoulder, nervous. “You spent too much time running from the Bolsheviks.”

“The point remains. People will accuse you.” Aleksei brushed at the front of his coat and scowled. “Your own people may be the first to lay blame. Prepare yourself for that, Dominic.”

A huge explosion outside echoed against the ceiling, causing the floor to rock and the chandeliers to sway violently. We were at the back of the hotel, far from the street or the danger posed by breaking plate glass windows, but I still curled over Connor protectively. Sadie did the same with Stella.

One of the rattan screens shielding us tipped to one side, taking the other screen down as well. Huge porcelain vases full of early spring flowers rocked off the edge of tables, shattering. Paintings slid off walls, landing facedown and cracking the frames. Individual crystals fell from swinging chandeliers, the ping they made hitting the floor drowned by the screams of frightened people. The sleepwalkers were fully awake now, no doubt reminded of earthquakes and the destruction left behind.

But the explosion's aftershock passed quickly, leaving shaken nerves behind but very little real damage. I sat up and pulled Connor into my lap. He was shaking and staring at the ceiling with frightened, solemn eyes, but he didn't cry. I smoothed his hair, rocking him and trying not to be obvious about watching Dominic and Aleksei. The two men couldn't help but see us now or know we'd heard every word. That concerned me a great deal.

Mr. Mullaney glanced our way, but something else, a noise or a movement I'd missed, caught his attention. He stared at the ceiling for an instant, eyes growing wider. “Mother of God … look out!”

Dominic Mullaney shoved Aleksei hard, sending him flying to one side. He dodged in the opposite direction, hitting the floor and rolling. A chandelier crashed to the ground between them, missing Aleksei by inches.

Connor stared at the fallen chandelier, quiet and unnaturally calm. A thousand shards of shattered crystal littered the floor, and a thousand more unbroken crystal prisms still clung to the chandelier's frame, or had rolled into the alcove. I looked out across the lobby at the mirrored sconces set into walls, the remaining chandeliers, broken vases and crystal prisms scattered on marble floors.

The princess ghost looked back from each one.

 

CHAPTER 3

Gabe

Picking their way through the debris in the square took longer than Gabe had planned, but both he and Jack were unsteady on their feet and ready to collapse. By the time they limped into the damaged lobby of the Palace, Gabe knew neither of them was in any condition to run an investigation. Only sheer stubbornness and the need to see their wives, to make sure Libby and the children were safe, had gotten them this far.

One small window on the front of the hotel building had shattered, but the rest were crazed with spiderweb cracks and would need to be replaced. Distance from the blast was the only reason Gabe could come up with for why they hadn't all broken. Hotel staff rushed around the lobby, doing their best to clean up the wreckage caused when the dynamite cache exploded. Fragments of broken porcelain vases crunched underfoot and flowers lay dying in puddles of water, but the damage was only an annoying mess, not anything life threatening or that would bring the building down.

Sending Dee and Sadie to the Palace had been the right thing to do. Still, he wouldn't relax until he saw them.

“Delia said they'd wait near the back of the lobby.” Jack was flushed and winded, his limp much worse. “Don't let me fall over before we find them.”

“Not a chance. Sadie would never forgive me if I left you behind.” Gabe got a shoulder under Jack's arm and took more of his weight. He ignored the stabbing ache in his side. “Sam's got his hands full and I'm too tired to drag you the rest of the way. Let's go.”

More cops were already arriving on the scene, including the rest of their squad. Both Sergeant Rockwell and Marshall Henderson were more than capable of taking over, questioning any witnesses that hadn't fled and making sure nothing was overlooked. Unless he missed his guess, Henderson had already started the squad searching the rubble for the injured and laying out bodies of those who'd died.

Gabe wouldn't need to argue his partner away from duty and into going to the hospital; Sadie would see to that. She'd take one look at Jack, and the battle would be over before it started.

A glance over his shoulder let Gabe know Sam Butler and the girl were still right behind them. She was leaning heavily on Sam, his arm around her shoulder all that kept her moving. Shock and reaction to everything she'd seen left her with a disbelieving expression and a glazed look in her eyes.

He'd seen that same numbness on the face of survivors trapped in their own heads, reliving the horrors they'd witnessed again and again. Guilt over being spared while others died made the pain worse. Some never found the strength to put guilt aside and go on with their lives. He didn't know this young woman. He couldn't say which way the pendulum would swing.

Sam had figured out on his own that leaving the girl unprotected was a bad idea. He'd insisted she come with them, and she hadn't had the strength to put up more than a token protest. Butler was doing a good job of trying to distract her, keeping up the same steady stream of banter and stories he'd started at Lotta's fountain. She responded to Sam's occasional question with a nod or a shake of the head, but didn't speak. That she responded at all gave Gabe hope she'd be all right in the end; if he and Jack could keep her alive.

Every instinct he'd honed during his years on the force told Gabe the men shooting and tossing dynamite off the roof weren't the ones giving the orders. Someone else wanted her dead. That the men trying to kill her had failed once didn't mean they'd stop trying. One way or another, he needed to find a way to protect her.

“Jack!” Sadie saw them first and called out; otherwise, Gabe wasn't confident he would have found them easily. Dee, Sadie, and the children were waiting with Libby in a dim, semi-hidden alcove set back from the main lobby. There were dozens of simple reasons Delia might have chosen this spot, but very few things in their lives were simple. He didn't miss the way Delia watched the lobby with anxious eyes, ready to run. That she didn't come to meet him halfway said even more.

“Oh God, Jack … Jack.” Sadie thrust Stella into Libby's arms and rushed toward them, dodging around the fallen chandelier in the middle of the floor. She gently cupped Jack's face in her hands and kissed him. Tears streamed down her face as she babbled. “I can't believe you're here. Dee said you were all right, but I was so afraid I'd never see you again. You're bleeding! There's … there's blood all over your shirt. How badly are you hurt? We need to get you to the hospital right now.”

“I don't need a hospital.” Jack coughed hard, his face screwed up with pain. “I'll be fine once we get home.”

“Most of that mess isn't his blood, Sadie, but don't let him try to talk you out of the hospital.” Gabe gritted his teeth and shifted his grip. “Help me get him onto the settee. I can't hold him up much longer.”

“Alina needs to sit down too.” Sam spoke from just behind Gabe's shoulder, raspy and hoarse. Butler had managed to learn the young woman's name, a surprise Gabe welcomed. That she already trusted him that much was a good first step. “Do what Gabe asked, Sadie. I promise we'll get things sorted and everyone will be taken care of.”

For the first time since she'd spotted them limping across the lobby, Sadie saw something other than Jack's face. Belatedly, she took in the state of Gabe's clothing and how Sam was struggling to keep the young woman—Alina—from sliding to the floor.

“Oh Gabe, I'm so sorry!” She rushed to get Jack's other arm around her shoulder. “I should have known better. What was I thinking? You're hurt too.”

“I'm a little beat up, but you were right to worry about Jack first. He's a lot worse off.” They eased Jack down onto the sofa, slow and careful. He didn't think he'd be able to manage getting Jack on his feet again, but most of their squad was outside the hotel. Finding men willing to move Jack when the time came wouldn't be a problem.

He had other things to worry about. Not the least of those was that he became more aware of his own injuries with each second. Gabe pressed a hand to his side and prayed the pain each time he moved too quickly was a sign his ribs were bruised, not broken. “Taylor and Maxwell will be here soon with a car. Some of the men were hurt more than either of us. I wanted them taken to the hospital first.”