Dance of the Crystal (27 page)

“Stop! Stop or I’ll shoot the man on the ground!”

Warily, Magnus peered around the edge of the tabletop. Soren lay at Jack Healy’s feet, blood painting an ugly red blossom on the cement under and around his head. The gun in Healy’s hand was aimed at Soren’s heart.

“Get back! Go back up the stairs. Go on up or I’ll shoot him!”

Magnus swallowed hard. He stared at his brother’s unmoving form. Relief flooded him as he detected a slight rise and fall of his chest.
Still alive!
If he did as directed, the guy was loony enough to shoot Soren anyway.
Dear God, please tell me what to do!

“Back up. Do it!”

Magnus’ gaze moved to Soren’s face. Was that a double twitch at the corner of his mouth? Was he trying to signal?

“All right. Take it easy. I’ll go back. But only if you aim that gun at me instead of him.”

Healy looked at Magnus as if he were the crazy one. He held Healy’s stare coolly. “If you shoot Soren, you’re a dead man, because you won’t be able to get both of us. I’ll be on you like flies on horseshit before you can pull the trigger a second time.”

Time stood still. He could see Healy hesitate, waver.

The gun hand lifted. “Put down the table. I want a clear shot at your heart.”

Thoughts of Kat flitted through Magnus’ mind. What she’d do, how she’d react if he died. But he couldn’t leave Soren defenseless, bleeding to death on the cold cement.
I love you, Kat
, he sent the thought winging its way to her.
But I have to rush this madman and try to save my brother.

Just as he tensed to leap forward, the door to the forbidden room swung open.

“Jack, help me! I’ve been raped!”

Crystal appeared in the doorway wearing some kind of white nun’s habit, ripped down the middle. It hung off one shoulder and bared her breast down to her waist.

“Patty!” The name tore out of Healy’s gut with undisguised anguish.

In a flash Soren hooked his steel-toed boot around Healy’s ankle, toppling him backwards. The gun flew out of his hand. Magnus kicked it aside and slammed the tabletop down on the kidnapper’s face, hearing a satisfying crunch of bone. When he lifted it off, Healy was whimpering through a broken nose and several loose teeth, bleeding from the mouth, nose and a nasty gash on his forehead.

Good! The bastard.

“Crystal! Ohmigod, Crystal, are you all right?” Soren staggered to his feet as Crystal stood motionless about a foot inside the room, arms outstretched to him.

“Soren, you’re bleeding!”

Soren engulfed her in a bear hug, repeating her name over and over. “Oh God, if anything had happened to you, I…”

Voice breaking, he cleared his throat. His hands smoothed up and down her arms, her torso, checking methodically for broken bones. “Are you okay? Who raped you? Did Healy have an accomplice? I swear, we’ll get him too, and they’ll never hurt you again.”

He took a step back, as if just realizing she hadn’t snuggled into him as tightly, as intimately, as he’d expected. “Crystal?”

It hit him then. The thick iron neck restraint, the heavy chain pulled taut behind her. The fact that Crystal hadn’t moved a single step since she’d first appeared in his line of vision inside the room. “That son of a bitch!” he roared, spinning on his heel.

In two long strides he reached the bleeding kidnapper sprawled on the cement floor. He gave him a vicious kick in the ribs for good measure then grabbed him by his thick gray hair in one fist and his shirt front in the other, jerked him to his feet and slammed him against the wall.

“You bastard! You caged her like an animal!” He ripped open Healy’s shirt, buttons popping unnoticed to the floor, and yanked the leather thong hanging around his neck, forcing Healy to stagger into the room after him like a dog on a leash.

He scrutinized the two keys jangling on the thong. “This damn well better open the goddamn ring you put around her neck, or you’ll find yourself with my screwdriver up your sorry ass.”

With trembling fingers he fitted the smaller key to the lock holding the two halves of the circlet together.

The lock snicked open. Tears pricked Soren’s eyes when he snapped the hinges open and saw the raw red marks on Crystal’s neck.

“You cocksucking maniac!” He spun around to Healy and snapped the circlet onto the heavy man’s neck. It was a tight fit and he had to push hard to get the lock to click shut. He wanted to pinch a sliver of skin inside, but it wouldn’t close that way. “There, you motherfucker. See how you like it!” With a hard shove, he sent Healy windmilling backwards until he fell half on the pristine white sofa and half on the white carpet, and proceeded to bleed copiously all over both.

Healy disposed of and instantly forgotten, Soren whirled back to Crystal. Tenderly he cupped her face in his hands, kissed her eyes, nose, cheeks, ears, then bent down to drop soft butterfly kisses on the angry red marks around her neck.

He kissed his way back up her jaw, kissed each corner of her mouth, took her lips in the softest, most reverent kiss he could give her. “Did you— Did he—” Soren cleared his throat. “Do you need a…a rape kit so we can put him behind bars?”

Crystal gave him a melting smile. “No one raped me, Soren. Jack was fixated on me because I reminded him of his sister, Patty. Who
was
raped many years ago. He was trying to ‘save’ me from the same fate.

So I figured the only way to divert his attention from you was to rip this outfit and look like I was raped.”

Soren’s legs almost collapsed in relief. He locked his knees and embraced her again, as gently as he could. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear I will. I was such a fool to blow my stack over a piece of rock. I want—”

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Excuse me. The gentleman with the bullet hole in his arm refuses to be treated until we look at you first.”

Soren wrenched his gaze from Crystal to look around. The police had Jack Healy in handcuffs and two EMTs milled around in the crowded hallway.

“Not me,” Crystal said softly, looking at Soren with love in her eyes. “This man is bleeding from a head wound. I refuse treatment until you check him out.”

And the two big strong Viking men could not change her mind.

Crystal lifted her chin, peered at her reflection in the dressing table mirror and frowned. Just one more dab should do it.

Seated at her old vanity bench, she reached a finger into the jar of stage makeup and patted the shadow of a bruise on her neck.
There. Perfect
. She wanted no remnant of last week’s ordeal to mar the joy of today’s special occasion.

Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine Soren in a tux, standing as best man for his brother Magnus. She couldn’t wait to see him, to dance with him, hold him close to her. Between rescuing Grandma, everyone’s overnight stay in the hospital for observation and treatment, talking to the police for hours on end, and helping Grandma with last-minute preparations for today, she hadn’t had the opportunity to be alone with him.

Discovering that Jack Healy had erected a hunting blind in a tree that gave him a clear telescopic view into her bedroom had shaken Crystal to her core. She immediately put her Cape Cod home up for sale and moved back to Rowena’s home.

Now Rowena breezed into the bedroom Crystal had used since she came to live with her grandmother so many years ago. “Ready for the festivities?” Rowena asked.

Crystal turned, looked deeply into her grandmother’s eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

The police had found Rowena gagged and trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey in a closet inside the office of Time Treasures, groggy but unharmed. “Child, it’ll take more than an SOB of his ilk to keep me tied down for long. I’m more concerned about you.”

“I’m fine. Really.”

“Good. That nice detective just called me.” She sat down beside her granddaughter on the vanity bench.

“He pretty much confirmed what Healy told you. His sister was studying to become a nun. She was nineteen, he was eleven.”

She took Crystal’s smooth hand in her wrinkled one. “She came home for a visit, there was some sort of family problem involving the stepfather, but it was hushed up. Three months later, Patricia Healy died from a botched abortion. Eight years later, the stepfather died in an automobile accident. The brakes failed. Experts couldn’t agree as to whether they were tampered with. Jack Healy was never a suspect in that incident.”

Their gazes met. Crystal absorbed the implications in silence.

Rowena put an arm around Crystal’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to just blurt this out. I should have waited until after the festivities.”

“No, it’s all right.” Crystal tilted her head so their foreheads were touching. “I’m glad you told me. I needed to hear it. It all fits. And it will be added to the—what do they call it?—preponderance of evidence when he goes to trial.”

Crystal manufactured a smile and changed the subject. “It was very generous of you to offer Kat and Magnus the use of your home this afternoon. It’s a perfect setting for a storybook wedding.”

The older woman shrugged. “We Platinum Society members help each other out.”

“Still, I’ll be happy when all the hoopla dies down.”

Rowena nodded with a knowing leer. “Yes, I expect you and Soren have things to…discuss. You’ll have plenty of time. As soon as the caterer is discharged, Trey and I are going to the Poconos for a long weekend. So you and Soren can
talk
to your hearts’ content. There’ll be no one in the house tonight except you.”

Crystal’s heartbeat raced.
Yes. Tonight
. Heat shot into her pussy just thinking about tonight. She wondered how many clothes they would manage to shed before—

“Excuse me, Miss Crystal, the groomsmen have arrived. My, don’t you look pretty.”

“Thank you, Tonya.” She did a pirouette for Rowena’s longtime personal assistant. She
felt
pretty in the new Caroline Herrera she’d splurged on for the occasion, a one-shoulder confection of softest, sheerest layers of peach silk with a handkerchief hemline. She’d purposely not applied lipstick, hoping to catch Soren before the bulk of the guests arrived and give him a hot, I’ve-missed-you kiss.

Feeling almost like a bride herself, she raced down the stairs in her stockinged feet.

And there he was.

She stopped on the bottom step and admired the broad, tuxedo-clad back, the tight buns exposed as Soren stood in a casual pose, hands in his pockets, in the foyer with Magnus. He’d removed the bandage on his skull where he’d cracked his head on the cement during his fight with Healy.

As if sensing her presence, he spun around and with two long strides stood before her. His gaze roved across her face then zeroed in on her neck. Bringing his hands to her throat, he tenderly explored her skin, running his fingertips from jaw to collarbone and around to the back of her neck. “How do you feel?”

“Pretty good, but I’ll feel better if you kiss me.”

Cupping the back of her head with both hands, he dipped his head and touched his lips to each corner of her mouth then placed a gentle kiss in the center. “I was so scared,” he murmured. “I would have killed him if he harmed you.”

She leaned into him, stopping further words with a more earthy, insistent kiss. Her mouth opened, demanding his tongue, and he obliged without hesitation. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she reveled in the feel, the taste of him, the unique male smell of him, soap and fresh air and deep woods overlain with a hint of citrus.

“Crystal,” he groaned. “In about fifteen minutes I’m going to have to stand in front of a bunch of people.

It’s going to take at least that long to get rid of my boner.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Just wanted you to know that I’ve missed you.”

With that she dashed up the steps to finish dressing.

* * * * *

“He should, dear. He’s the groom.”

Crystal’s gaze snapped to Rowena. “Not Magnus. Soren! He looks like he’s going to faint.”

“Probably because it’s the first time in his life he’s had to wear a suit.”

“Grandma, hush!” Crystal hid her smile behind her program as the two women mingled with the forty or so guests in the huge foyer waiting for the bride to descend the spectacular curved staircase. At the bottom of the steps, Soren stood next to his brother the groom, knees visibly shaking.

A hush settled over the group as Kat’s best friend, Lyssa, preceded the bride. On the arm of Robert Savidge, a key player along with Kat and Rowena in the Platinum Society, a glowing Kat Donaldson glided down the steps, looking ethereal and striking in a filmy ivory-colored gown that flowed from a strapless bodice to swirl around her ankles.

When Savidge handed her over to Magnus, Crystal sighed at the visible love and lust sparking between bride and groom. Then hid a smile when Magnus had to nudge Soren to offer his arm to the bridesmaid as the procession moved to the spacious living room. The guests took their blue, velvet padded seats in semi-circle rows around the marble fireplace decorated with orchids and calla lilies, and the minister began, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here…”

For Crystal the ceremony passed in a blur, emotions and impressions swirling about her. As the bride and groom declared their love and commitment and made solemn promises to each other, she stole glimpses at Soren, wondering what he was thinking. When the couple exchanged rings, Soren caught her gaze, his look loaded with meaning that she interpreted as lust definitely, love maybe, and a whole lot more. She felt the prickle of joyous tears as the minister intoned, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Then the groom swept the bride back on his arm and gave her a swashbuckling kiss that lasted until the minister cleared his throat a third time. A cheer rose up from the witnesses, but all Crystal could think of was the moment she and Soren could share a similarly passionate kiss.

Rowena stepped forward to announce that they should all retire to the patio, where a catered dinner of beef Wellington and Chilean sea bass awaited them. Under a flawless blue sky, they found their seats via calligraphed place cards on round tables set for eight. At the head table, Crystal sat between Soren and Rolf, who considered Rowena his date for the afternoon. The irrepressible youngest Thorvald kept making suggestive comments to Crystal, earning scowls and at least one “Back off!” from Soren.