Compact with the Devil: A Novel (30 page)

“I just meant that I have enough hard things in my life. I’m not sure I should fight for something that might be destined for disaster anyway.”

“Well,” said Kit, “as a professional disaster creator, survivor, and addict, I gotta tell ya—disasters aren’t that bad.”

“You seem pretty sure you’re going to survive this,” said Nikki, her eyes twinkling.

“Well, if it looks gross in the morning, I’m going to go straight downstairs, hire a cab, go to the hospital, and stiff you with the hotel bill.”

“Nice to have a backup plan,” laughed Nikki, finishing her final knot on the makeshift bandage.

“But that’s what I’m figuring out,” he said, easing upright to go look at her handiwork in the mirror. “I used to think that there was only one plan, and if it didn’t work then everything was over. But it isn’t over. The only over is if those guys had actually managed to shoot me. As long as I’m breathing, then there’s always another plan. There is another chance. If I screwed up today and got drunk at that bar or whatever, I could start fresh tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is another day,” said Nikki, borrowing Jenny’s accent for a bit of Scarlett O’Hara.

“Laugh if you want, but I spent too much of my life worrying about what I was going to do when the world ended. And then it did. They told everyone I had mono and was recuperating in Switzerland. But really I had OD’d in some shithole in Bern. Duncan had to scrape me off the floor and carry me to the hospital.”

Nikki stared at Kit as if seeing him for the first time. He looked happy, as if this were a good story. Her heart hurt at the idea of him
cold on the floor. Instinctively, she covered his heart with her hands and he put his hand on top of her hers. She could feel his heart beating steadily into her palm.

“I OD’d, Nikki. I was dead; my heart literally stopped. They had to use the machine to restart my heart. And you know what I did the day I got out of hospital? I went out and bought some coke. I diced up three lines on a mirror I used to keep around for the purpose, and in the mirror I could see the burn marks on my chest from the heart paddles. Which is when I realized that whatever I was afraid of couldn’t be half as hard as where I was now.”

She kissed him. She hadn’t been meaning too, but something about the fragile courage in his eyes, the warmth of his skin against hers, the way his mouth looked when he’d said her name, just pushed her into him.

Their lips met and for a moment Nikki almost lost herself in the heat between them. His arms wrapped around her, holding her the way she wished Z’ev had done.

“Where we’re going can’t be half as hard as where we are now,” repeated Kit, pulling away from her. “Shit, I gotta write that down—that’s a good line.”

She leaned back and laughed, feeling a sudden sense of relief. If Z’ev had done something like that, she would have been pissed, but it was just so … Kit. She couldn’t be mad at him.

“I’ll write it down later,” said Kit apologetically, reaching for her again.

“No,” said Nikki. “You go write it down now. Don’t want to lose the thought.” He nodded, shuffling away to go find paper. Nikki settled down on the bed and watched him. He didn’t seem to mind.

“I missed the boat, didn’t I?” he asked twenty minutes later, looking up at her, tapping his jaw with the pen. “With us, I mean.”

“But you wrote a song,” said Nikki with a shrug.

“Sort of,” said Kit. “The bridge is giving me trouble and I need at least another verse.”

“You’ll get it figured out,” said Nikki with absolute faith. She got up and went to the window, checking the street. Trying to distract herself.

“It’s too soon, isn’t it?” he asked. “You’re still into him.”

“Probably; I don’t know,” said Nikki honestly. “But jumping into bed with you probably wouldn’t clarify anything.”

“You don’t know till you try,” he said, giving her a rakish grin that made her laugh as he went into the bathroom.

“I’ll think about it,” she said with a flirtatious smile. The door shut and Nikki flopped back down on the bed, trying to calm the flutter in her stomach. Kit was right; she was still into Z’ev. Even lying on a crappy hotel bed in Paris, she could conjure up his smell, the way he would feel lying next to her. She tried to remember the last time they’d been together. She hadn’t thought it would be the last time.

Nikki returned from kickboxing and headed straight for the bathroom, taking the Tiger Balm out of the cabinet and unscrewing the top. The potent, spicy smell filled up the small space of the bathroom, making her eyes water as she gingerly applied the greasy stuff to the huge knot on her shin. Someday she was going to have to invest in shin guards. Lumpy shins were so not attractive. She felt the soothing buzz and tingle that told her the ointment was working and relaxed a bit.

She changed into her pajamas and took the Tiger Balm with her as she limped into the kitchen. Popping a bag of popcorn into the microwave, Nikki mixed a drink and prepared for total sloth.

She was relieved that Z’ev wasn’t coming back till tomorrow.
Between the Tiger Balm and sweat she knew she must be putting out a stink that would knock over a skunk. Her hair was in the residual waves of a ponytail and she had dug out her most comfortable, least sexy flannel pajamas from the back of the dresser. Her entire evening’s plan consisted of sitting on the couch, drinking something Z’ev would characterize as frilly, nursing her bruises, and feeling lonely.

Nikki had settled into watching
Strictly Ballroom
and was reaching for the popcorn when she absentmindedly rubbed her eye. She had barely pulled her hand away when she realized the stupidity of her actions.

“Damn! Damn, damn, damn,” yelped Nikki, running blindly toward the kitchen. The residual Tiger Balm from her fingers stung the thin, sensitive skin of her eyelid, sending tears leaking down her cheeks. She rinsed her eye in the sink and carefully scrubbed her lid with a paper towel.

Nikki made her way back to the couch. She blinked, weepy eyed, at Scott and Fran on the TV. Her mood had not been improved by her own stupidity. She finished the bag of popcorn and went to the kitchen for another cosmo. As she returned, carefully toting her drink, the doorbell rang. She sighed and looked longingly at her couch. It was probably just her crazy neighbor, who was going to accuse her of stealing his geraniums again. Although what he thought she was doing with his geraniums was a mystery. Nikki dragged herself to the peephole and looked through. It was Z’ev.

Nikki opened the door and they stared at each other. He was leaning tiredly against the apartment wall.

“I caught an early flight,” he said.

Nikki opened the door farther. He walked past her, taking the cosmo out of her hand and downing it in one gulp. Kicking off his shoes, he dropped his bags and slid out of his jacket on his way to
the living room, where he dropped onto the couch. He sat staring vacantly at Scott and Fran dancing the fruuuuuiiiiittttyyy rumba.

Nikki shut the door and went into the kitchen for another cosmo and a beer. When she returned to the living room he was still sitting in the same place, still staring. Fran got self-conscious and fell down. Nikki handed Z’ev the beer and sat down next to him, carefully curling her feet up under her, trying not to jostle him. After a moment, he unbuttoned his shirt.

“Help me out of this, will you, baby?” he asked, trying to wrangle out of the shirt. Nikki noticed there was a bandage on his left arm. She helped ease him out of his shirt, and he leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. Another minute went by and then he pulled her close to him with his right arm.

“Did you hurt your arm?” she asked, trying not to sound prying.

“Only a little bit,” he said after a while. “Fell off something.”

“Mmm,” said Nikki, which wasn’t an answer, but it was the best she could do without totally freaking out about her boyfriend falling off God knew what and nearly getting himself killed.

“You smell good,” Z’ev said, his eyes still closed.

Nikki giggled, turning her face into his chest to smother the laugh. “It’s the Tiger Balm.”

“Smells like you used the whole jar,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

“Not quite, but I kind of overdid it on the working out the last couple of days.”

“Got any left?”

“Yeah. Why, do you need some?” She raised her head and scrutinized his face, but his eyes were still closed.

“Maybe just a little on my shoulder,” he said, opening his brown eyes and smiling into Nikki’s worried gray ones. Nikki reached over and retrieved the small jar off the coffee table.

“The left shoulder?” she asked, dipping her fingers into the jar. He nodded and sat up a little straighter for her. She leaned forward against the solid mass of his chest. She started at his neck, reaching behind him, kneading her fingers into the thick muscle that joined his collarbone to his shoulder. She leaned closer to him, her breasts brushing against his unclad skin. She ignored the subtle thrill from the contact, intent on easing the tension she could feel under her fingers. The heat of his body radiated against her cool fingers and his breath stirred the hairs on the back of her neck.

Unexpectedly, he leaned forward and gently kissed her neck. Nikki caught her breath as he kissed the little hollow behind her jawbone and then her earlobe.

“Nikki,” he said, resting his forehead against her temple. Nikki didn’t let him finish, turning her mouth into his. He wrapped his arms around her, pushing her backward into the couch.

Nikki ran her fingers down his chest while he fumbled at the hem of her shirt, wanting to take it off but not wanting to stop kissing her. Nikki pulled it up for him; as she tried to wriggle further out of the shirt it got hung up in her hair, and raising her arms over her head, she yanked it furiously off. Z’ev put his hand down on the shirt, pinning her arms inside, and went back to kissing her, the thumb of his other hand running in lazy circles over her breast. Nikki moaned as he bent to kiss her nipple. His tongue ran over the tip and Nikki let out a small gasp.

Finally freeing herself of her shirt, she twisted down and nipped his earlobe. Z’ev laughed and returned his attention to her mouth. Nikki ran her hands down his sides, feeling every curve of muscle and bone. The pungent smell of Tiger Balm filled the air as Nikki undid his belt buckle and pulled the belt slowly through the loops. With languorous enjoyment Nikki dropped the belt on the floor while Z’ev trailed kisses down her neck and onto her breasts.
The button of his pants came next, then the zipper. She slid her hand down the small of his back and into his pants, intending to work her way to the front.

Abruptly, Z’ev grabbed her hand and pulled away.

“I think,” he said, as Nikki stared at him in surprise, “before we go any farther, that it might be better if you washed your hands.” Nikki glanced down at their naked torsos and the faint sheen of Tiger Balm, only then noticing that tingling she was feeling was not entirely a reaction to Z’ev. She began to giggle. She couldn’t help it.

“This wouldn’t be funny if you had kept going,” he said, grinning.

“Not for you anyway,” said Nikki around giggles.

She woke up with a feeling of overwhelming sadness and knew that Z’ev wasn’t beside her. And neither was Kit. Nikki sat up, only then realizing that the light was on under the bathroom door. She checked her watch; she’d been asleep for about two hours. Getting up, she knocked on the bathroom door.

“Did I wake you?” responded Kit, sounding concerned; she opened the door and peered in. He was sitting fully clothed in the tiny square bathtub, the pad of hotel notepaper on his knees.

“You don’t have to hide in the bathroom,” she said, and he blushed. She sat on the toilet, watching him with bemused curiosity. She’d never seen him embarrassed before.

“I was going to, but when I came out you were asleep and then I worried that the light might wake you. So I thought I’d just stay in here till I finished up, but I have to admit that my feet are starting to freeze.”

“You’re never going to get a song written with me around,”
said Nikki, laughing. “Come out and write at the desk like a real person.”

“Nikki,” he said seriously, “I was starting to think that I couldn’t write any more songs, that all my creativity had gone the way of the dinosaurs. With you around, I’m pretty sure I could write lots of songs.”

“So you’re saying I’m a dinosaur? You are so romantic,” she said, tweaking his hair, refusing to be serious. “Is this how you get the ladies? You compare them to T. Rexes?” She pulled her arms into her body, making little T. Rex arms, and waved them in the air until he laughed.

The morning arrived with a creeping, smothered light. Kit lay sprawled on top of the covers next to her, the pen still clutched in his hand. He was smiling in his sleep, and Nikki found herself smiling back at him even though he couldn’t see her.

Nikki blinked, thinking over the details of the last twenty-four hours. Had she lost her mind? She had done exactly what Camille had wanted her to do. Well … She probably hadn’t wanted Nikki to go running off with Kit. But she had definitely wanted Nikki to abandon her duties.

And then there were the masked men with guns. What had happened there? Nikki tried to piece together the events. Jane had said her call was being … what? Piggybacked? That might have meant it was being traced. And then Jane had hung up. Whoever had been tracing the call must have sent those thugs after her. Jane had been in Germany looking at Voges, who led to Cano, who had gone straight for Kit. Nikki tried not to groan
out loud; she should have taken Kit and left right after the phone call. Somehow, in her inebriated state, she had missed that. She remembered feeling panicked, but she hadn’t remembered the next step. How many other steps had she missed because she’d been too wrapped up in her own problems or too drunk to pay attention? What if Kit hadn’t made it through last night? Nikki felt a surge of adrenaline and a fluttering of butterflies in her stomach.

Rising quickly to stop the thoughts circling around her brain, she dressed and peered out the window. The gray clouds hung heavy on the horizon, the rising sun coloring their bases yellow and gold. The effect was short-lived, and soon the clouds were merely dirty gray like the street. Cars zoomed through slush, their windshield wipers slapping at the still falling snow. The rising dome of the Sacré-Coeur could be seen in the distance, marking the skyline as unmistakably Paris. Even in the depressing light of winter it looked romantic, in a tragic sort of way.