Lust (17 page)

Never have been, and now I know I never will be.

Another Universe

GAIA OPENED THE DOOR TO THE
East Seventy-second Street apartment slowly. Empty apartments have a smell to them, of dry heat mixed with dust. She wished they didn't have to come back here. To the house of hope. To the bed where Tom and Natasha used to sleep. But there was nowhere else to go.

At least her dad seemed calmer. The taxi ride had been good for him, apparently. At least he wasn't talking to himself anymore.

“You can have the first shower,” she said, giving him a smile. “I'll order up some food, how about that? Pizza? Or something more nutritious? Um . . . burritos?”

“Whatever you like,” he said, with a tired smile that was supposed to be reassuring but just looked . . . tired. “Something that will go down easy. My stomach—”

“Yeah. Like soup or something. I'll figure it out.”

“Okay.”

“There's ointment and stuff in there. Oh! Wait a second.” She darted into the master bathroom and swept all of Natasha's feminine belongings—her cosmetics, her shampoos—into a bucket and shoved it all under the sink. She'd change the sheets on the bed while he was showering. She was going to make this as easy as possible for him. She'd do anything to have him back.

She stepped out of the bathroom, letting him go
in, and closed the door behind him.
Phew.
First things first: Gaia had to call Dmitri and tell him to give the go-ahead to send Tatiana to her mother's jail cell. She didn't want to give them that. But she had made a promise. She picked up her cell phone, sitting in its charger on the floor next to her bed, and hit the speed-dial. The old Russian man answered on the first ring.

“I'm back,” she said. “He's here. Everything's fine.”

“That's good,” Dmitri said. “Are you all right?”

She sighed. “Sure. But telling him about Natasha was horrible. I felt so bad.”

“It can't be helped.”

“I suppose. But you can tell them Tatiana can have her little reward.”

“I'll do that.” Gaia heard the line click off and looked at the screen, ready to dial the diner downstairs, when she noticed the little envelope at the top of her screen.

A message.

She listened and was shocked to hear Sam Moon's voice. It sounded like he was a million miles away, like a voice from another universe. Another lifetime. But when Gaia thought about it, she realized that she had just seen him the other day. On Broadway, when she'd come out of Urban Outfitters. He had moved to an apartment. He was restarting his life without her. Now he was calling her.

“I wanted to tell you where I'm working,” he said
in the first message. “I mean, not where I'm living, or anything. I still need more time. But, ah, free food and all. I know how you like that, so if you want to come by . . .” He left the address, and hung up.

And there was another one. “Hi. Uh, yeah, so you didn't come by and that's cool, but I wanted you to know you can. I know yesterday I said I still needed time, but I didn't mean that completely. I've been thinking a lot about it, and I think with a little distance I can understand a bit better why you were so guarded. Why you acted the way you did. I came on too strong, and that was, you know. That was my deal. So I won't do that again.” He paused. “I think I'm ready,” he added. “I'd really like to try again. I'd love to give it a try. So. Call me. When you feel like it.”

What? What did this mean? Gaia felt a tightening in her chest. Two messages in a couple of days. From Sam. From Sam Moon. Sam Moon had called her. Sam Moon had called Gaia Moore to say he wanted to give their relationship another shot while she'd been in Siberia battling the unknown operatives who had kidnapped her father, with the help of her formerly evil—possibly not evil—uncle and a random guy who was now her best friend.

But not just her best friend. He was someone whose heart seemed to match hers, and it was all she could do to stop herself from thinking about him.

Life. Life was just bizarre sometimes.

Dear
Dad: Sorry I had to break your heart. Sorry I can't fix anything. Most of all, I'm sorry I'm thinking about Sam and Jake when you need me the most.

I'm also
really
sorry we're not on that freight train, fighting with thieving vagrants, or building a shelter in the middle of the frozen steppe, or even running around in the middle of a prison riot. Because all those things were easier for me than figuring out this knotty little conundrum.

Sam was the love of my life. Is. Was. Is. Was.

Jake is the best thing that's ever happened to me. But I don't know what I should do about it.

Neither one of them should matter, because you're here, and you're hurting, and I have to be there for you—not flying off the handle every time a guy calls me.

So please excuse me if I'd rather fly off to somewhere even
farther than Siberia to kick some ass—any ass. Any ass at all. Because you know what? It's easier. Matters of the ass-kick are easier than matters of the heart, any day.

And you heard it here first.

The last thing she wanted right now was to open a can of emotionally overwrought worms.

Damn Guardian Angel

GAIA MOORE WAS HAVING A MOMENT
she'd probably remember forever. She was one of those rare people who had burned-in-her-memory moments all the time, but this one was different from the norm.

This one was good.

A good memorable moment was atypical in Gaia's screwed-up life. The awful ones . . . well, those came up all the time.

Like the moment she learned her mother was dead. The moment she realized that the man she thought was her father might actually be her evil uncle, Loki. The moment Mary passed away. The moment Sam was kidnapped. The moment some Loki operative fired shots at Ed. The list of gut-wrenching, miserable, devastating moments went on and on.

But a light, content, all-is-right-with-the-world moment—that came almost never. And when she realized she was having one, instead of automatically thinking of the few things that were still wrong—things that could crap all over the moment like a giant pigeon—Gaia just smiled.

For once, she was going to let herself be happy.

“I like this,” Jake Montone said, lying back next to Gaia on the big mound of rock near the Columbus
Circle entrance to Central Park. “Who would've thought there was actually a place in this city where you could see stars? Actual ones, I mean. Famous people I've been seeing everywhere lately. It's like you get one warm day and they suddenly come out of hiding. I was almost nailed by Brad Pitt on rollerblades this afternoon in Union Square.”

“Jake?” Gaia said, the back of her skull searching for a smooth bit of rock to rest on.

“Yeah?” he asked. He turned his head so he was looking at her profile.

“Shut up,” she said.

“Right.”

Ever since Gaia, Jake, and Oliver had returned from their little smash-and-grab job in the former Soviet Union (they'd smashed a fortress and grabbed Gaia's dad, Tom), Jake had been prone to these little fits Of verbosity. Just every once in a while. Like he was a little kid who was still psyched up from a trip to an amusement park and couldn't contain his bursts of excitement. Gaia would never have admitted it, but somewhere deep down she kind of thought it was cute—in an irritating sort of way.

A jagged point bit into the back of her head and she moved again, sighing in frustration. Jake sat up, slipped out of his denim jacket, bunched it into a ball and moved to prop it under the back of her head. For a split second Gaia thought about refusing, making a
crack about his chivalry and turning it into a joke, but she stopped herself. Instead she just lifted her head, then leaned back into the Jake-scented softness.

Ah. Pillow. Just one more thing to make the perfect moment last.

All is well
, Gaia thought, taking a deep breath. She almost didn't dare to believe it, but it was true. Her father was home, safe and sound. Her uncle had been living for days now as good old normal Uncle Oliver, with no signs of Lokiness whatsoever. There was no one out there hunting her down, tracking her every move, plotting ways to take her out.

And to top it all off, she had a new friend. A real friend. Surprisingly enough, Jake Montone had turned out to be, contrary to all snap judgments, a non-moron. He was, in fact, freakishly true. Supportive. Noble almost.

“I can't believe that guy actually gets to have sex with Jennifer Aniston,” he said suddenly, his brow furrowing beneath his dark hair.

Okay, so he was also still a guy. But he had already saved Gaia's life, accepted her increasingly psychotic family situation with none but the pertinent questions asked,
and
dropped everything to come to Russia with her to save her father. In a short time he'd gone beyond the call of duty, friendshipwise. He'd gone beyond the call of duty for a damn guardian angel.

“So, anybody at school ask where you were for the past few days?” Jake asked.

“Not really. The teachers are used to me disappearing, and no one else notices.”

Except Sam
, Gaia thought, her heart giving an extra-hard thump.
Sam noticed.
Sam had noticed to the tune of eight messages on her answering machine. Gaia had been more than a little surprised when she'd heard his voice over and over and over again on the tape. The last time she'd seen the guy he'd basically told her to get out of his life and stay out. By the time she was done listening to his messages it was fairly clear that he wanted the exact opposite.

I
need to call him back
, Gaia thought. But even as her brain formed the suggestion, the rest of her felt exhausted by the mere thought. The last thing she wanted right now was to open a can of emotionally overwrought worms. She'd much rather just stay where she was—lying on her back in the park, staring at the sky, with Jake's warmth next to her, keeping the goosebumps at bay.

“So, listen,” Jake said, propping himself up on his elbow and turning on his side.

Gaia swallowed and her stomach turned. It was a loaded “so listen.” The kind that was usually followed by either an unpleasant announcement like, “So listen, I'm moving to Canada.” Or by an awkward silence-inducing question like, “So listen, do you want
to go to the prom?” Not that Gaia had ever been asked to a prom before, but she could still identify the appropriate “so listen.”

She stared at the sky and held her breath, waiting for the ax to fall, not sure which ax would be the quicker, less painful one. Gaia had been getting the more-than-a-friend vibe from Jake for a few days now, but she'd chosen to ignore it. Mostly because acknowledging it would require acknowledging the fact that she was also attracted to him, and Gaia was definitely not ready to go there.

Not just yet.

Whenever she allowed herself to admit she liked a guy, only anguish ensued.

“I was wondering if you might want to—”

Jake's question was interrupted by a sudden, blinding light that was directed right into his eyes. He held up his hand to shield himself, and the beam moved to Gaia's face. She squinted against the stinging pain and sat up, her boots scraping against the grainy surface of the rock.

“What do you kids think you're doing out here at this hour?” an authoritative voice asked.

The light finally moved away and Gaia was able to distinguish the outlines of two New York City policemen through the pink dots that were floating across her vision.

“Just hanging out,” Jake said, pushing himself to
his feet. He was slightly taller and more than slightly broader than either of the men in blue.

“Yeah, well, not the safest place to just hang out these days,” the chubbier of the two cops said, eyeing Gaia as she stood. He shone his light along the ground, looking for beer cans, crushed joints—anything that would allow him to give Jake and Gaia more than the usual amount of hassle.

“We've had a number of attacks in this area of the park in the past few days,” Cop Number One said. “I suggest you two move it along for your own safety.”

“Sure,” Jake said, leaning down to grab up his jacket. “No problem.”

He used his jacket to nudge Gaia's arm, and they turned and scrambled down the side of the boulder. Gaia sighed as she fought for her footing on the steep side of the rock. She appreciated what the cops were trying to do, but they'd obliterated her perfect moment. Of course, they might have also saved her from an awkward, embarrassing, tongue-tied conversation with Jake about his “so listen.” Little did they know they'd just added “rescue from ill-fated romantic interludes” to their duties as New York's finest.

Gaia jumped the last few feet to the ground and landed next to Jake. He shoved his arms into his jacket and straightened the collar as they started to walk. For a few blissful seconds there was total silence—aside
from the faint honking of car horns somewhere out on the streets that surrounded the park.

Then Jake tried again. “So, anyway, as I was saying—”

“Hey! No! Help!
Help!”

It took Gaia a split second to realize that she wasn't hearing her own desperate get-me-out-of-here pleas, but actual shouts of panic.

“It's coming from over there,” Jake said, taking off.

Gaia was right at his heels, slicing through the trees in the direction of what was sounding more and more like a struggle. They suddenly emerged into a small clearing and saw not one but two middle-aged women in jogging suits, flattened on their backs by four men in full-on black. Two of the men held each victim down, while the other two yanked at their clothes.

Gaia took one look at the tear-stained and desperate face of the woman closest to her and felt her fingers curl into fists.