Finding Sky (23 page)

‘But that would still leave us with your family under threat.’

‘Yeah, it would.’

‘It’s not fair.’

‘No, but I believe we do good work when we use our gifts together. It’s worth it. No one else in the Savant Net can do quite what we do.’

I pushed up on my elbows. ‘I couldn’t live that way.’ I slid off him, sitting on the edge of the sofa. He was already half killing himself with the strain of his work. He’d never said, but I would put money on him having nightmares about the things he had witnessed. What would he do when he realized I wasn’t going to stick around—that I was running scared because I feared the soulfinder thing far more than I feared Daniel Kelly?

He must have overheard an echo of my fears because he caught me by the waist to stop me putting more distance between us. ‘I want you to be happy. We’ll work it out.’

No, we wouldn’t. ‘You say that now, but people do let you down, you know.’ I was trying to warn him not to invest too much in me. ‘Things change. I mean, I doubt many people stay with their high school sweethearts.’

His expression clouded. ‘You’re not being fair, Sky. I’ve sensed for a few days now that you’re shaken up by the soulfinder thing, but soulfinders have nothing in common with high school sweethearts—it goes much deeper.’

We were still side by side but no longer moulded to each other; I only had myself to blame because I was the one who had taken a step back.

I tried to sound mature and reasonable. ‘I think I am being fair. I think I’m being realistic.’

‘Is that how you see me?’ Zed’s face hardened, reminding me he didn’t have a reputation for trouble without cause. ‘Haven’t you felt what I feel? Are you still closing off your gift?’

Of course, I’d felt it—too much and it was scaring me. ‘I don’t know what’s normal and what’s not. I know I love you but I just can’t do this.’ I gestured between us.

‘I see.’ He sat up and moved down the far end of the sofa. ‘Well, while you think that one out, I’ll just watch the rest of the game.’

‘Zed, please. I need to talk about this.’

He floated the popcorn bowl to his lap. ‘We’ve been talking. So far we’ve established that I’m just a boy you’re dating. You’re running from the miracle that we’ve found each other.’

I wrung my hands. I hadn’t wanted to upset him but how could I not when I was fighting for my emotional survival? He didn’t understand what was at stake for me.

‘Look, Zed, my parents killed each other over my mother’s soulfinder. I don’t want history to repeat itself. I don’t have that kind of strength in here.’ I tapped my head.

He gave a curt nod. ‘I understand. Your mom and dad lost it, so we will too. It doesn’t make a blind bit of sense but you probably know that. The way I see it, your parents got into problems because Fate pulled a mean trick on them and your mom ran out on your dad when she should’ve handled finding her soulfinder more fairly. They made a mistake and you paid for it.’

I didn’t like his criticism of my mum for running. ‘I’m trying to explain how I feel, Zed.’

‘And what about how I feel, Sky?’ He pulverized a handful of popcorn, struggling to keep his temper. ‘I’d walk across burning coals for you. Hell, I walked in front of a gun for you. But is that enough to prove I love you? That you are it for me? I don’t know what more I can do.’

‘Please don’t be angry.’

‘I’m not angry. I’m disappointed.’

God, that was worse. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah, well.’ He pretended to watch the game but I could see that his emotions were fluctuating wildly between anger and hurt.

I felt absolutely gutted by what I’d just done. He’d offered me love—it was something unique—like a Fabergé egg—which I’d proceeded to smash. To have your soulfinder reject you was like tearing yourself in two, but somehow I couldn’t help myself. I was hurting him because I was plain terrified. Like that mountaineer who cut off his own hand to save himself, pain now was better than more suffering later, wasn’t it? Oh God, was I right or just running?

Confused and scared, I switched off the television.

‘Hey!’ Zed reached for the controller.

‘Just give me a moment then you can switch it back on.’ I tucked the controller behind my back. ‘I really am sorry. This is me—I’m not the most confident person. You said once I always act surprised when someone likes me—but it isn’t an act. I don’t expect people to like me—let alone love me. I just don’t feel that lovable and now you can see why. I suppose it’s kinda your bad luck to end up with me as a soulfinder.’

Zed ran a hand across his face and through his hair, trying to muster his thoughts. ‘I don’t blame you.’

‘I know you don’t. You’ve seen what’s inside me, warts and all.’ I gave a slightly hysterical laugh. My heart was pounding: I’d messed up big time but I couldn’t leave him thinking I didn’t have strong feelings for him. Maybe I couldn’t be what he wanted, but I could prove I loved him. ‘You said you walked in front of a gun to show that you loved me. Well, I suppose I can only do the same for you. I’m going to Vegas tomorrow—and I’ll be doing it for you.’

He shot to his feet. ‘No way!’

I chucked him the controller which he caught on reflex. ‘I’m not as sorted as you are about this savant stuff and we both have to live with that. I just can’t risk being that way with you—I don’t think I’ll survive the life.’ I took a breath. ‘But Victor’s plan is the only way I can think of to give you proof that, despite my messed-up head, I do love you.’

There—I’d said my piece. I couldn’t read Zed’s response—his emotions were confused and he was ominously silent.

‘So, you can … um … get back to the game. I’m going to turn in—get an early night.’

He held out a hand to me. ‘Sky?’

‘Yes?’

‘I still love you—more than ever. I’ll wait till you’re ready.’

I felt a huge rush of guilt. I’d never be ready.

‘I don’t want you to put yourself on the line for me.’

I folded my arms. ‘Yeah, I kinda guessed that bit.’

He tugged me closer, his large hand rose to cradle the back of my head, warmth seeping through to the skin. ‘I’ll talk to Victor about your worries. I’m gonna insist I come. My future sense works well just before an event even with interference. I can help anticipate problems.’

‘From a safe distance?’

‘From a reasonable distance. Close enough to be there to help, but not so close to hand the Kellys the advantage.’

‘OK.’ I rubbed my palm over his heart, silently apologizing for the heartache I was causing. ‘I can cope with that.’

 

The female FBI agent I’d encountered months ago met me in the washrooms at McCarran airport, Las Vegas, to fit me with my wire.

‘Hi, Sky. Anya Kowalski. Remember me?’ she asked, getting out her kit.

‘Yes, of course.’

She smiled at me in the mirror, her sleek brown hair glowing in the spotlights. ‘We appreciate what you’re doing for us.’

‘Can you hurry, please? Sally might come looking for me any moment now.’

She grinned at my worried reflection. ‘That’s not likely. She’s being interviewed by a local reporter on her views on airport standards. He’s not letting her get away.’

‘And he is?’

‘One of our men.’ She slipped a tiny microphone into the elastic of my bra. ‘That should do it. Try not to cover up too much and remember not to bash it with anything—purse, whatever—as it gives our listening post a nasty headache.’

‘OK. That’s it? No battery or wire?’

‘Nope. It’s got its own little power pack and will run for about twenty-four hours. No wires to give it away.’

‘But it emits a signal, right?’

‘Yes, it transmits sound. What you hear, we hear.’

‘Can anyone tell?’

‘Theoretically. But only if they have the inside track on FBI frequencies. We’ve not had a problem before.’

‘But if Daniel Kelly has got this information from one of you already?’

She grimaced. ‘Then the proverbial hits the fan. But we’ll get you and your parents out, don’t worry.’

Sally was preening when I returned to her side.

‘That young man was really interested in my views,’ she said. ‘He said he totally agreed that the airport was bland and could do with some more challenging artworks—maybe a Damien Hirst cow or diamond skull—this is Vegas, after all.’

‘Why not go the whole hog and have the Emin bed?’ grumbled Simon, who didn’t think highly of installation works. ‘Most people bumming about airports look as though they could do with a good sleep.’

‘I should have thought of that.’ Sally winked at me.

‘I think one of Dali’s melting clock faces is more appropriate—time seems like fudge for international travellers,’ I suggested.

My parents stopped and stared at me in amazement.

‘What?’ I asked, embarrassed.

‘You understand art!’ Sally gasped.

‘Yeah, so?’

Simon laughed with delight. ‘All these years and I thought it wasn’t rubbing off on her!’ He gave me a smacking kiss.

‘I’m still not going to go splash paint on unsuspecting canvases,’ I mumbled, pleased I’d given them something to celebrate. I felt bad enough about letting them walk into this blind.

‘We wouldn’t expect you to. In fact, I think I’d forbid you to try. Imagine having another scatty artist in the family!’

Simon linked his arms in mine and Sally’s and waltzed us out of the airport to the waiting car.

Sliding into the back seat, the reality of what was happening rushed back. It wasn’t the same vehicle I’d been carried in to the warehouse—just an innocuous hotel shuttle to the airport—but I still felt a chill run up my spine.

Zed?

It’s OK, Sky. Victor and I are two cars behind. We’ll drop back
and pass the tail over to another agent in a moment, but we won’t
lose you.

Is it OK to talk like this?

Until you reach the hotel. We’re guessing Maria Kelly is the
surviving shield expert so we mustn’t take risks
.

Tell me again, how much do I have to get for the FBI to move
in?

We need them to admit to involvement in the kidnapping or
to do something illegal on this trip, like try to falsify your memo
ries—that’s the most likely. An added bonus would be any sight or
sound of the two Kelly escapees
.

How do I get them to do that?
It seemed far more difficult now I had to execute the strategy I’d only thought about in the abstract.

They’ve set things up to bring you here so they must have a
plan. Go along with things as far as you can. We’re guessing
they’re going to try and separate you from Sally and Simon
.

And I let them?

I could tell Zed was uncomfortable with the answer.
They’ll
be safer that way.

Don’t worry about me.

No can do.

We turned into the covered drop-off area for The Fortune Teller casino hotel.

‘That’s what it’s called!’ said Sally, clicking her fingers. ‘I knew it was something to do with fairs.’ She smoothed her Matisse silk scarf over the jacket of her light wool suit. ‘Do I look OK, Sky?’

‘Very professional.’ I regretted that she was wasting her efforts on a criminal.

Simon always screamed ‘artist’ whatever he was wearing. Today he’d put on his favourite black denim jacket with his jeans—his version of a suit.

‘What an amazing place!’ he marvelled as we strode through the foyer with its ranks of slot machines and waitresses in skimpy gypsy costumes. It was a maze—many of the shops selling cheap rubbish right next to designer label stores. ‘So absolutely tasteless, it is quite a work of art in itself.’

To our right, a klaxon sounded and coins began to pour from a machine into the lap of an ecstatic man in a shiny blue tracksuit. There was a momentary lull as the gamblers glanced over at the lucky winner, then business as usual.

‘I’d like to paint the faces,’ mused Sally, eyeing a woman with an acutely desperate expression perched on a stool by her chosen fruit machine. ‘You can smell the hope and the hopelessness. The lack of natural light gives it an underworld feeling, doesn’t it; land of lost souls?’

Underworld? I was thinking Hell myself with the Kellys as the ruling demons.

A bellboy led us to the bank of lifts. ‘Mrs Toscana will see you in her office,’ he explained. ‘West Tower, third floor.’

The mirrored lift took us to the mezzanine level. A balcony overlooked the main floor of the casino, a variety of games under way from roulette to poker. As it was mid afternoon, most people were casually dressed and the atmosphere relaxed. I’d expected James Bond sophistication and got seaside amusements. The baize shone with the rich green of dubious promise, plastic chips which in truth represented millions of dollars thickening the illusion that this was all just a harmless bit of fun. Our guide showed us to a double set of doors with ‘General Manager’ inscribed on a brass name plate. Once we were through, we left behind the garish fortune teller flash of the hotel decor for quiet and refinement: an elegant white L-shaped sofa for visitors; fresh flowers on a low glass table; and a neatly dressed secretary who greeted us and showed us into the boss’s inner sanctum.

The first thing I noticed was the bank of screens showing activity in all parts of the hotel. There were close-ups of the card tables as well as more general views of the public areas. Then I noticed Maria Kelly standing by the window looking out on to the hotel atrium, her hand outstretched. My hackles rose: she was poison and I didn’t want her anywhere near my parents.

‘Simon, Sally, delighted to meet you in person after our phone calls. And this must be Sky?’

Her smile was friendly, but her emotions told another story, flickering between cool blue calculation and a tinge of red violence. I hoped my face did not betray my revulsion at seeing her again. I had to pretend I still did not remember.

‘Yes, it is,’ said Simon. ‘Thanks for inviting us.’

She waved us to three chairs across the desk from hers. ‘I was hoping that this weekend would give you a chance to understand my hotels, what kind of clientele we cater for, and what artistic tastes they might have. I think you’ll find our rooms range from the economy to the exclusive and our guests’ preferences are on as wide a scale.’

This job was bogus—I could see it in the yellow lights now glowing around her. She was enjoying spinning the tale, like a cat playing with mice.

‘I’ve got a full programme worked out for you and one of my assistant managers will be dedicated to facilitating your visit. But that no doubt sounds very boring for your daughter.’

‘Sky’s happy to fit in with us,’ Sally said. ‘She’ll be no bother.’

‘No, no, that won’t be necessary. I thought she might prefer to find out what Vegas has to offer young people.’

Simon shifted in his seat. ‘Well, now, Mrs Toscana, that’s really kind of you, but you know what Sky’s been through recently; we don’t want to leave her on her own in an unfamiliar place.’

‘Naturally, I couldn’t agree more. That’s why I’ve asked my younger brother if he could spare the time to look after her. I’m sure he’ll show her a good time. Maybe they could catch an afternoon show. The Cirque du Soleil is amazing—she can’t miss that!’

Sean Kelly’s idea of a good time was to drain me of all my emotions and mess around with my head. So this was the plan: to throw me to the Sean-lion while my parents were shepherded off to play in the hotel. I only hoped Victor and Zed were getting all this and would step in before things went too far.

‘Would you like that, darling?’ Sally asked.

‘That’s fine,’ I replied, not quite able to bring myself to thank Maria.

‘Lovely.’ The lines around Sally’s eyes crinkled into a relieved smile. ‘Then we’ll see you back here this evening for dinner, darling.’

‘I’ve booked my private dining room for us, so you can meet other members of the senior staff.’ Maria smiled, displaying an expensive set of teeth. ‘But Sky might prefer to grab a burger with Sean. He’s waiting for her just outside. I’ve got a few business matters I’d like to discuss with your parents, Sky. I hope you don’t mind.’

‘Fine.’ She was a real cow—sending me off with the creep outside while pretending she was doing me a favour. ‘I’ll see you later then.’

‘Let’s play it by ear,’ Simon said happily. ‘Come back when you’ve had enough, love.’

Reluctantly, I got up. The only redeeming part of this plan was the fact that my parents were going to be far away from any danger. I checked my new phone was in my jeans’ pocket. Victor had given it to me that morning, saying he’d programmed in his and other emergency numbers just in case. ‘Keep your phone switched on, Simon—I’ll call when I’m finished seeing the sights.’

‘Don’t rush if you’re enjoying yourself.’ Sally smiled conspiratorially at Maria.

That was highly unlikely—not unless it involved seeing our hosts led away in handcuffs.

I’d forgotten just how repulsive Sean was in the flesh. It wasn’t the fact that he was overweight—that could have made him friendly and jolly—it was the dampness of his palm, the smarminess in his smile, the little moustache that looked like an earwig.

‘Sky Bright? Delighted to meet you.’ He held out a hand which I had to take but I slid free as soon as possible.

‘Hi. You’re Sean, right?’

‘Yes. Maria’s asked me to take care of you.’

I bet she has.

‘What do you want to see first? The tables?’ He led the way to the lifts.

‘Am I allowed to gamble? I thought I was under-age.’

He gave me a wink. ‘Let’s say it’s a special arrangement just for you. I’ll get you some chips on the house and you can have a play without losing a dime of your own money. I’m generous—I’ll let you keep any winnings.’

‘That’s really kind of you.’
Not
.

He took me to the cashier’s window and drew out chips worth a thousand dollars. ‘That should get you started.’

‘I don’t know the rules of any of the card games.’

‘Then let’s try roulette—that’s child’s play.’

This whole thing was like a spin of roulette. Black or red? Would we come out a winner or the Kellys?

‘OK. That sounds fun,’ I said with feigned enthusiasm.

I swiftly lost half the money through bad guesses, then won a quarter of it back with a lucky punt. I could see how the game could become addictive. There was the hope that the next spin would favour you. No skill was involved; only good fortune.

‘Another go?’ Sean raked in my winnings for me.

‘OK.’ I shoved nearly all of my money on an outside bet on the evens square.

I lost.

‘Hey ho,’ I sighed, trying not to be bothered by all this money going back to the hotel. It was only leprechaun gold, like in
Harry Potter
.

Put everything on the fifteen,
Zed whispered.

I hid my smile behind my hand. I knew he’d be unbeatable at gambling. I placed my remaining chips on fifteen. Sean shook his head.

‘Are you sure, Sky? A bet like that is called a straight up—a risky move.’

‘Yeah, I like to live dangerously.’ I gave him a brash smile.

The other participants chuckled indulgently at my rookie’s enthusiasm.

‘Well now,’ drawled a Stetson-wearing good ol’ boy from Texas, ‘if the pretty lady says black fifteen is lucky, I’ll put my money where she’s put hers. Thirty-five to one—great odds—if you win.’

From the gentle orange glow around the man, I could tell he was only trying to make me feel better about my rashness in the spirit of ‘misery loves company’ when I inevitably lost it all.