Run (9 page)

HEATHER DID NOT LEAVE SCHOOL
immediately following first period.

That would have been the cowardly thing to do, and Heather Gannis was nothing if not brave. She proved that every day, didn't she? Swimming with the sharks (as she secretly referred to her friends) with only her Almay pressed powder for armor.

So she'd stayed at school and toughed it out. She'd handled all those pitiful looks they threw at her, the feigned sympathy, the understanding hand pats. It was so patronizing. Didn't they know she knew? Didn't they realize she could see through them like a Victoria's Secret peignoir? They loved that she'd been humiliated. They got off on it.

As soon as the final bell sounded, Heather escaped them all.

And now she was on her way to Sam's dorm.

She walked -- all right, so it was more like a subdued run -- toward Washington Square Park, taking the opportunity to think. There hadn't been a clear thought in her head all day. The rigors of maintaining a stiff upper lip, seeming to be grateful, and acting suitably flustered had taken all her energy. She had also been forced to accept
hug after hug after hug
from all those guys who said they only wanted to comfort her, but really just saw her grief as perhaps their only chance to press their
deprived bodies
against her
legendary one.

Pigs. Idiot pigs. But, she reminded herself for the twelve zillionth time, she'd invited popularity, worked for it, and now had to live with the consequences. What was that old saying? Live by the sword, die by the sword. Yep. Same went for popularity.

By the time she reached Fifth Avenue, Heather was convinced she had it all figured out. Sam had secretly filmed them, and then somehow had carelessly allowed the tape to fall into the wrong hands. The hands of
Gaia Moore.

Or maybe it hadn't been carelessness on Sam's part. Maybe it had been part of a horrific conspiracy. Maybe -- for some reason she could not even begin to imagine -- Sam had taped their encounter, then
given
the tape to Gaia to screen in econ.

That would explain why Gaia had shown up that night. That would explain why Sam had run after her. They were working together to ruin Heather's life.

Why? She had no idea. But she was definitely going to find out.

Heather reached Sam's dorm, stomped into the lobby, and was met by the security guard.

Right. She'd forgotten about that little roadblock. "Can I help you?" he asked.

Heather smiled automatically. The guy was beefy, maybe in his late twenties. She could tell this rent-a-cop position was probably a dream job for him -- second only to his lifelong fantasy of changing his name to
the Raunchy Raider
and becoming the darling of the professional wrestling circuit.

"Hi," she said. "I'm just going up to visit my boyfriend."

He drew himself up tall. He was obviously very important. "I'll need to see your university ID."

Lucky for Heather she could blush on command. "You think I'm in college?"

The guy smiled. "Aren't you?"

Heather shook her head coyly. "I'm only in high school. But he's expecting me. . . ."

"Sorry, sweetheart."

Don't
sweetheart
me, you pumped-up piece of shit. "Please?" She smiled and gave him her best little head tilt. "Look. He gave me a key."

She produced Sam's dorm key from the back pocket of her jeans. Okay, so he hadn't actually given it to her. She'd stolen his spare copy in a fit of immaturity back when they'd first started getting serious. It had made her feel special to have it--her boyfriend's college dorm room key. And her friends had thought she was beyond lucky. Now her petty crime was about to come in handy.

"Look, honey," meat-for-brains said, "I don't care if the guy gave you his key. I don't care if he gave you his tuition money, all right? The bottom line is, you're not getting in here without a valid New York University ID."

Heather ground her teeth. "Can't you call him? He'll come down and get me." The guard's eyes slid over her body like maple syrup on a stack of pancakes. "I'm sure he will." He picked up the phone. "What's his number?"

She gave it to him. He dialed.

"Busy."

"What?"

""The line's busy."

"This threw her. Sam's line was never busy. A black hole formed in her stomach. Maybe he had it off the hook.

Maybe he was so desperate to avoid her that he'd instructed this steroid-shooting side of beef who used too much hair gel not to let anyone fitting her description anywhere near the elevator.

Disgusted, Heather turned on her heel and stalked out onto the cold street.

SO NOW WHAT?

Gaia shrugged. "I don't know." Ed had followed her out of detention, and now she was following Ed down the handicap ramp. A late afternoon chill crept into the neck of her sweatshirt, causing goose bumps to break out on her skin. "Maybe they're gonna have me scale the Empire State Building in my underwear."

"I'd like to see that," Ed joked.

"Seriously. There's got to be another test, doesn't there?" Her eyes made a wide sweep of the area. "But what? When?"

Bring it on, she willed silently. Come on! It was like waiting to throw a punch, or waiting to have one thrown at you. Come and get me. Come and get me.

When they reached the sidewalk, Ed angled his chair to allow a food vendor to pass by with his stout, steaming cart.

"Y'know what's weird?" Ed asked. "The last tests came at you like rapid fire, so where the hell are they?"

"Maybe the guy's taking a coffee break," Gaia deadpanned. "Maybe he's a
union kidnapper.

Ed's face became tentatively hopeful. "Or maybe you're done."

"Done?"

""Yeah. Maybe they're satisfied," Ed said with a shrug. "Maybe the next message is gonna be, 'You may reclaim your diabetic boyfriend at your earliest convenience.'"

"Don't call him my boyfriend," Gaia said.

"Yes, ma'am."

Absently Gaia watched the hot dog vendor drag his moving eatery to a halt. When he banged open a metal compartment,
the uniquely New York aroma of frankfurters and sauerkraut
reached her. Her stomach growled fiercely, and she realized she hadn't eaten a thing since the three bites of bagel she'd had at breakfast.

"Hungry?" she asked Ed.

"Sure."

Gaia approached the vendor. "Two. With the works."

"The works," the guy mumbled, grabbing two empty rolls and placing the hot dogs into them.

Gaia watched as he clumsily spooned relish and onions onto them. More of the condiments wound up in his hand than on the dogs. Well, maybe if the jerk took off those dark glasses and pulled his hat up from over his eyes, he'd be able to see what he was doing and--

"Sam says hi."

Gaia's eyes snapped up to the vendor's face. He thrust the hot dogs into her hand. Her first instinct was to shove them both up his nose. The guy pulled off his sunglasses and gave her the hands-down wickedest stare she'd ever seen. Anyone else would have passed out from the ferocity of it, but Gaia met his gaze. And, since she
had
been born with whichever chemical component created hunger, took a sloppy bite of the hot dog.

The sham vendor was obviously thrown by her calm.

"Sam says hi," he repeated, less icily. He reached into his apron, removed a piece of paper, and held it out to her.

She glanced over her shoulder at Ed. "He's out of hot pretzels," she said sarcastically. "Will you settle for a ransom note?

Ed was wide-eyed. "God. Are they everywhere?"

Gaia took the note, and seconds later the phony hot dog guy was gone.

She handed Ed his hot dog, which he just sort of stared at, as if he'd never seen one before. Gaia decided to read to herself and give Ed a couple of seconds to recover.

Clearly you did not understand what I meant by HUMILIATION, as you and your friend in the wheelchair are still on speaking terms. Momentary embarrassment in the school corridor was not what I had in mind, Gaia. I wanted him out of your life, but I see this has not happened. For this reason, you will perform another test, the most difficult thus far. Before I return Sam to you this evening, you will be required to . . .

Gaia looked up from the note and blinked at Ed.

"What? What does it say?"

"Uh . . . it says I'm doing really well. Listen." She skipped to the final paragraph, cleared her throat, and read aloud. "'Sam will be turned over to you this evening at 10 P.M. in Washington Square Park. Choose any pathway. I will find you. FYI -- Mr. Moon's health is failing, so I suggest you be prompt.'"

"Is that all it says?"

She swallowed hard and nodded. No reason to tell him how personal the kidnapper was getting with his notes. No reason to tell him --

"Man. He must be pretty sick." Ed was looking pale.

"It says I have to get his insulin from his dorm room," Gaia murmured. His room. Like she wanted to revisit
that memory
anytime in the next century.

Ed nodded. "Hope we can get into his room."

"You'd be surprised how easy it can be," said Gaia, frowning.

"That's if it's unlocked," Ed reminded her.

"True." Her eyes dropped unwillingly to the note, that one sentence . . .

Ed lowered an eyebrow at her. "You okay?"

Gaia nodded.

"Well, you might not be after I make this next suggestion." He took a deep breath. "I think we're going to need Heather."

Need Heather? For
what?"
Gaia asked. "Fashion advice on what to wear to a hostage rescue?"

Ed tossed his untouched hot dog into a nearby trash container. "For the key to Sam's room. I'm guessing she's the only person we know who might have one."

Gaia felt her muscles tighten with anger. He was probably right. And the last thing she needed was to get nabbed for breaking and entering. She wouldn't be helping anyone from jail. Having Sam's room key was crucial.

She ate the rest of her hot dog in two angry bites, then glared at him. "Heather it is," she said with her mouth full.

Ed watched her swallow with a look of near disgust. He'd never looked at her like that. But then, she figured she was doing a pretty good impression of a boa constrictor.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine," she lied, glancing at the note again--at another part she hadn't read out loud. At the part that said,
"Kill CJ."

"Loki hovered there another moment, allowing his icy laughter to rain down on Sam.

"HI."

CJ turned. The woman was talking to him. The beautiful woman in the tight blouse.

He did his little shoulder thing -- loosened himself up. Slouched. "Wus'up?"

She smiled. "I've seen you around, you know."

"Yeah? Well, I ain't seen you." At least not in a while. She used to walk through the park every day, but not lately. It was hard to forget a body like that. She smelled great. Expensive. And her legs went on till Tuesday.

"What's your name?"

"CJ."

"Nice to meet you, CJ."

She reached for his hand and shook it. Talk about silky skin.

"Listen, CJ, I don't usually do this sort of thing, but I was hoping you might like to go out with me. Tonight." The way she fixed her eyes on him made things inside his body stir. Things he didn't even know were there.

Brain cramp! This gorgeous, uptown piece of ass was asking him out? Sure as hell sounded like it. For a moment there
was no Gaia.

"Uh . . . uh . . ." Damn, he had to get it together.

""Well?"

Shit, this one was friendly. She was pressing her palms against his chest now.

"You don't have plans, do you?" she asked in a husky voice.

Well, as a matter of fact, he did. He was going to kill Gaia tonight. But then again, maybe he could do both.

The woman was giving him this very seductive little pout. "Please say you'll meet me tonight. There's a band playing in the park. And I love to dance. . . ." She pushed her hips against his and swayed. "Do you like to dance?"

CJ nodded. He liked her perfume. It was giving him a little buzz.
Smelled like burning flowers or something.

"Good. So it's a date, then?" She tossed her hair back and looked up at him through her thick lashes. "We'll meet tonight, in the park."

"Yeah. Yeah." He backed up from her slightly, trying to play off the fact that every inch of his body wanted to pounce on her right now. No use letting the lady know she had the power. "That'd be cool. In the park."

"I'll meet you at the fountain," she said, making even the word
fountain
sound dirty.
"Say ... nine-thirty?"

"Yeah. sounds good."

""Till then . . ."

"Yeah."

She turned to walk away, and he remembered that walk. He and Marco used to study it. When she'd gone half a block, he called out to her. "Yo, girl. What's your name?"

She didn't bother to answer.

LOKI CRUMPLED THE FAXED MEMO AND
dropped it into the wastebasket.

"Dead before the first set?" He smiled sardonically. "That's what I like to hear." His laughter was an ugly, guttural rumble in his throat. He turned to Sam.

Poor, poor Sam.

"Dying, really, right before his eyes.
A shame.

Loki walked toward his hostage, who was huddled in a shivering heap on the floor, and studied him in silence for a long moment.

Well, he could understand what his niece saw in the boy. He was certainly nice-looking. At least, he had been, before that unfortunate incident in which his face collided with that fist. Tsk, tsk. And, of course, his medical condition was really
taking its toll.

"Sam?" Again, louder. "Sam!"

The boy lifted his head slightly and let out a ragged breath.

"Sam Moon," said Loki thoughtfully, rolling the name over his taste buds as though it were a new wine he was tasting. "Tell me about yourself, Sam."

The only reply was the shuddering of Sam's body.

"Cat got your tongue, boy?" Loki sneered. "Ah, yes. Just as well. I generally prefer to do the talking in situations such as these. I do so enjoy being in control."

He was circling Sam now, like the predator he was. "You're aware, I imagine, that my niece is quite taken with you?" His eyes turned hard as he stared at the prone form before him.

Loki stopped walking, folded his arms across his chest, and glared down at Sam. "That, as you must understand, is not an easy thing for an uncle to accept. I wonder, would you be worthy of her? Because an uncle has certain expectations for his only niece, Sam. He wants the best for her, wants only her happiness. I know it may not seem that way, given current circumstances, but it is true. Gaia, you might say, has become my whole world. " Loki lifted his foot and used the toe of one of his three-hundred-dollar wing tips to give Sam's languid body a hard nudge. "So tell me, Sam Moon," he demanded. "Are you the boy who will make Gaia's dreams come true?"

Loki hovered there another moment, allowing his icy laughter to rain down on Sam.

Then in a voice so slick and close to silence that Loki barely heard it himself, he asked Sam Moon one
last question.

After that he walked away, the heels of his expensive shoes drumming the highly polished floor of the loft.

He didn't turn around.

He should have.