Key of Knowledge

Chapter Five

SHE decided to make the bath an event. The first pure luxury of unemployment. Might as well celebrate it, Dana told herself, as cry over it.

She went for mango for that tropical sensation, and dumped a generous amount of the scented bubble bath under the running water. She lit candles, then decided a bottle of beer didnt quite measure up to the rest of the ambience.

Already naked, she headed into the kitchen, poured the beer into a glass.

Back in the bath, she anchored her hair on top of her head, then, for the hell of it, slopped on some of the hydrating facial creamZoe had talked her into.

It couldnt hurt.

Realizing she was missing an important element, she went out to flip through her CDs, found an old JimmyBuffett . Time to go to the islands, she decided, and with Jimmy already nibbling on sponge cake, she sank with a long sigh into the hot, fragrant water.

For the first five minutes she simply basked, let the hot water, the scents, the absolute bliss do their work.

A big white ball bearing Joans irritated face bounced down a long incline, slapping into rocks, picking up grit. The face took on a shocked expression as it rolled straight off the edge of a cliff.

A bouncy blond ponytail followed it. Tension oozed away, drop by drop.

“Bye-bye,” Dana murmured, well satisfied.

She roused herself to rinse away the facial cream with a washcloth, and reminded herself to put on some moisturizer when she got out of the tub.

She frowned at her toes, turned her head this way and that. Maybe it was time for a pedicure, ending it with some sassy, liberating color suitable for the recently unemployed and the soon-tobe entrepreneur.

It was coming in damn handy having a stylist for a friend and business partner.

Ready for stage two, she decided, and picked up her book from the edge of the tub. With a sip of beer, the turn of a page, Dana slipped into the story.

The tropical setting, the romance and intrigue, perfectly suited her needs. She drifted along with the words, began to see the deep blue shine of the water, the sugar-white sparkle of the sand. She felt the warm, moist, air flutter over her skin and smelled the sea, the heat, the strong perfume of the lilies potted on the wide veranda.

She stepped offsunbaked wood and ontosunbaked sand. Gulls cried as they wheeled overhead, and the sound of them echoing was a kind of chant.

She felt the powdery grit of the sand under her bare feet, and the teasing way her thin silk wrap fluttered around her legs.

She walked to the water, then along its edge, basking in the beauty of the solitude.

She could go wherever she wanted, or nowhere at all.

All those years of responsibility and work, of schedules and obligations, were behind her now.

Why had she ever thought they mattered so much?

The water rolled toward shore, foamy lace at its edges, then waltzed back into its own heart with a sigh. She saw the silver flash and leap of dolphins at play, and beyond, so far beyond, the delicate line of the horizon. It was perfect and peaceful and lovely. And so liberating to know she was completely alone.

She wondered why shed ever felt compelled to work so hard, to worry, to care about what should be or had to be done, when all she really wanted was to be alone in a world of her own choosing.

A world, she understood without any sense of surprise or wonder, that she could change with a thought or on a whim.

There was no heartache unless she wished for it, no company unless she created it. Her life could spin out— color and movement and quiet and sound—like the pages of a book that never had to end.

If she wanted a companion, she had only to imagine one. Lover or friend.

But really, she needed no one but herself. People brought problems, responsibilities, baggage, needs that were not her own. Life was so much simpler in solitude.

Her lips curved with contentment as she wandered along the sickle curve of beach where the only footprints were hers, toward the lush green shade of palms and trees heavy with fruit.

Cooler here, because she wished it to be. Soft, soft grass beneath her feet, sprinkles of sunlight through the fronds overhead, and the sharp, bright flash of birds with feathers the rich colors of jewels.

She plucked fruit from a branch—a mango, of course— and took the first sweet, juicy bite.

It was chilled, almost icy cold, just the way she liked it best, rather than warmed by that streaming sun.

She lifted her arms, saw they were tanned a smooth and dusky gold, and when she looked down she grinned to see her toes were painted a bold andcelebrational pink.

Exactly right, she realized. Thats exactly what I wanted.

Her mind began to wander as she roamed through the glade, watched goldfish dance in a pool of clear blue water. She wanted the fish to be red as rubies, and they were. Green as emeralds, and they became so.

The wonderful flash of bright color in the water made her laugh, and at the sound of it, birds— more jewels— glided into that perfect bowl of sky.

This could be her forever place, she realized, changing only as she wished it to change. Here, she would never hurt again, or need, or be disappointed.

Everything would always be just the way she wanted it to be… until she wanted it to be different.

She lifted the mango again, and a thought passed through her mind: But what will I do here, day after day?

She seemed to hear voices, just the murmur of them, far off. Even as the breeze kicked up, whisked them away, she turned, looked back.

Flowers tangled on lush green vines. Fruit dripped, glossy as gems, from the delicate branches of trees. The sound of the surf, a seductive whisper, shivered through the air.

She stood, alone, in the paradise she had made.

“No”

She said it out loud, as a kind of test.

This isnt right. This isnt who I am, isnt what I want.

The fruit she held slipped out of her fingers and hit the ground at her feet with an ugly splat. Her heart jolted in her chest as she saw it was rotten at the core.

The colors around her were too harsh, she realized, the textures too flat. Like a stage set, like standing on an elaborate set built for an endless play.

“This is a trick.” Angry wasps began to buzz around the spoiled fruit. “This is a lie!”

As she shouted it, the blue sky turned to boiling black. Wind screamed, ripping fronds, hurling flowers and fruit. The air turned bitterly cold.

She ran, with icy rain stinging her face, plastering the silk against her body.

In this wild and wicked world, trick or no trick, she knew she was no longer alone.

She ran, through the hurricane scream of the storm, through the lashing, razor-edged fronds that seemed to snatch at her arms and legs like grasping fingers.

Breathless, terrified, she spilled out onto the beach. The sea was a nightmare, walls of oily black water rising up, pounding down, eating away at the land bite by greedy bite. Palm trees crashed down behind her, and the white sand caved in on itself, like a world collapsing.

Even in the dark, in the cold, she felt the shadow spread over her. The pain shocked her to her feet again, had her stumbling forward as she felt something ripping inside her. Ripping out of her.

Gathering all her strength, all her will, she made her choice, and plunged into the killing sea.

* * *

SHE reared up, gasping, shuddering, a scream tearing at her throat.

And found herself sitting up in her tub, chilly water sloshing over the side. Her book was floating, her candles pooling in their own wax.

Panicked, she crawled out of the tub, and for a moment simply curled shivering on the bath mat.

With her teeth chattering, she forced herself up, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her. Suddenly the thought of being naked only added to the layers of fear. She stumbled out of the bathroom, her heart still heaving inside her chest, to fumble a robe out of her closet.

Shed wondered if she would ever be warm again.

Hed pulled her in. Kane. The dark sorcerer who had challenged the king of the gods and had stolen the souls of his daughters. Because they were half mortal, Dana thought, and that offended his sensibilities. And because he wanted to rule.

He had conjured the Box of Souls with its triple locks, and had forged the three keys that no god could turn. A kind of nasty joke, she thought as she struggled to catch her breath. A rude thumbing of his nose at the god who had had the bad taste to fall in love with a mortal woman.

The spell Kane had cast behind the Curtain of Dreams had held for three thousand years. Which meant he had plenty of punch—and hed just given her a good hard shot to remind her that he was watching. Hed slipped into her head and pulled her into one of her own fantasies. How long? she wondered, hugging herself for warmth. How long had she been lying there, naked, helpless, out of her own body?

It was dark now, fully dark, and she switched on the Light for fear of what might wait in the shadows. But the room was empty. She was alone in it, just as shed been alone on that illusion of beach.

At the hard rap on her front door the scream started building again. She clutched a hand to her throat to trap it and all but sprinted to the door.

Whoever it was, it was better than being alone.

Or so she thought until she saw Jordan.

Oh, God, not him. Not now. “What do you want?” she snapped. “Go away. Im busy.”

Before she could slam the door, he slapped a hand on it. “I want to talk to you about… What is it?” She was white as a ghost, her dark eyes enormous, and glassy with shock. “Whats wrong?”

“Nothing. Im fine.” The shakes started up again, harder this time. “I dont want to… oh, the hell with it. Youre better than nothing.”

She simply fell against him. “Im so cold. Im so goddamn cold.”

He scooped her right off her feet, then booted the door shut behind him. “Couch or bed?”

“Couch. Ive got the shakes. I cant stop.”

“Okay. Its okay.” He sat, kept her cradled in his lap as he tugged the throw off the back of the couch. “Youll warm up in a minute,” he comforted, and tucked the throw around her. “Just hold on to me.”

He rubbed her back, her arms, then just wrapped his own arms around her and banked on body heat to do the rest. “Why are you wet?”

“I was in the tub. Then I wasnt. I dont know how it works.” Her hand was fisted in his jacket, kneading there as she fought to steady herself. “The son of a bitch got inside my head. You dont even know its happening, it just does. Im not going to make any sense for a couple more minutes.”

“Its okay. I think Im following you.” His stroking hands bumped the band that tied her hair up. Without thinking, he slipped it off, combed his fingers through. “It was Kane? He was here?”

“I dont know.” Exhausted, she laid her head against his chest. She had her breath back at least. It no longer felt as if a hand was squeezing her racing heart. “Like I said, I dont know how it works. I wanted to take a bath, relax.”

To give her something else to think about, he deliberately sniffed her neck. “You smell terrific. Tasty. What is that?”

“Mango. Cut it out.” But she made no attempt to get off his lap. “I did the bubble bath routine. Lit candles, got my bath book. Its got a Caribbean setting—the book, so thats why the mango andBuffett . I put a JimmyBuffett CD on.”

She was rambling, but he let her talk it out.

“So, Im settling in—hot bubbles,Buffett , beer and book. The books a romantic thriller, nice fast pace, sharp dialogue. The scene Im reading was from the heroines viewpoint, during one of her breathers. Shes on the terrace of her room at this tropical resort, thats actually a front for… Never mind, not important.”

She closed her eyes, soothed by the steady stroking of his hand over her hair. “So shes standing there, looking out at the water. Youve got the surf, the breeze, gulls. The writer paints a good picture, so Im seeing it.

“Then Im not just seeing it in my head, in the words on the page. But I dont even realize everything shifted, that Im inside the image in my own head. Thats the scariest part. You dont know.”

She rubbed her hands over her face. “Ive got to get up.” She tossed the throw aside and stood, then as an afterthought tightened the loose belt of her robe. “I was on the beach. Not just thinking about the beach, not just seeing it. I was there. I could smell the water, and flowers. Lilies, there were pots of white lilies. Didnt seem the least bit strange that I was all of a sudden walking over the sand, feeling the sun, the breeze. My feet are bare, my toes are painted, Im tanned and Im wearing this long silk thing, just a wrap. I can feel it fluttering around my legs.”

“I bet you looked terrific.”

She glanced over at him, and for the first time since hed come in, the dimples winked into her cheeks. “Youre trying to keep me from freaking again.”

“Thats a definite yes, but I still bet you looked terrific.”

“Sure I did. It was my fantasy. My own, personal tropical island. Perfect weather, blue sea, white sand, and solitude. I was even thinking, as I walked the beach, how foolish Id been to ever worry about responsibilities. I could do or have anything I wanted.”

“What did you want, Dane?”

“At that moment? Just to be alone, I guess, not to worry about anything. Not to think how upset I was that the evil Joan had manipulated me out of a job I really loved, and how Im a little scared about starting Act Two of the Life of Dana.”

“Thats human. Thats normal.”

“It is.” She glanced back at him—big, handsome Jordan Hawke watching her with those deep blue eyes. He understood she wasnt looking for meaningless words of comfort or sympathy.

“It is,” she repeated, as soothed by his understanding as shed been by his hands. “I walked toward this grove of palm and fruit trees. I picked a mango. I could taste it,” she paused, touching her fingers to her lips. “Basically, I just walked along thinking, boy, this is the life. But it wasnt the life, it wasnt my life. And its not what I want, not really.”

She came back to the couch, afraid her legs might go weak again when she told the rest. “Thats the thought that came into my head—and then I heard voices. Off in the distance, but familiar. And I thought, this isnt real. Its just a trick. Thats when it happened. Oh, God.” As her chest tightened again, she pressed her fists between her breasts. “Oh, God.”

“Easy now.” He closed his hands over hers, squeezing lightly until she met his eyes. “Take your time.”

“Storm came in. Thats a mild word for it. When I realized it wasnt real, the world went to hell. Wind, rain, dark, and the cold. Jesus, Jordan, it was so cold. I starting running. I knew I had to get away, because I wasnt alone after all. He was there, and he was coming for me. I got back to the beach, but the ocean was insane. Walls of black water, fifty, sixty feet high. I fell. I felt him over me, around me. That cold. And the pain. Horrible, tearing pain.”

Her voice was breaking. She couldnt stop it. “He was ripping out my soul. I knew Id rather face anything but that, so I jumped into the sea.”

“Come here. Come here, youre shaking again.” He gathered her close.

“I woke up, or came back, whatever it is. In the tub, strangling for air. The bathwater had gone cold. I dont know how long Id been out of it, Jordan. I dont know how long he had me.”

“He didnt have you. He didnt,” he insisted when she shook her head. Gently, he eased her back so he could see her face. “A part of you, thats all. He cant get the whole, because he cant see the whole. A fantasy, like you said. Thats how he works. And he cant push you into it so deep that a part of your mind doesnt surface again and question. And know.”

“Maybe not. But he sure knows how to go for the gut. Ive never been that scared.”

“Once you move past that into pissed-off, youll feel better.”

“Yeah, youre probably right. I want a drink,” she decided and pushed away from him.

“You want water?” He realized she was coming back fast when the question had her curling her lip at him.

“I want a beer. I never had my bath beer.” She rose, seemed to hesitate. “You want one?”

Still watching her, he laid his fingers on his own wrist as if checking for a pulse. “Yeah.”

He liked the way she snickered at him before she walked away. It was a normal sound, a Dana sound. Thered been nothing normal in the way shed collapsed on him.

If he hadnt come by… but he had, he reminded himself. He was here, she wasnt alone. And shed gotten through it.

He got to his feet, took his first real look around her place. Pure Dana, he thought. Strong color, comfortable furniture, and books.

He wandered after her, leaned on the wall. More books, he noted. Who but Dana would keep Nietzsche in the kitchen? “First time Ive been in your place.”

She kept her back to him as she opened two beers. “You wouldnt have gotten in this time if I hadnt been wigged.”

“Despite that lack of welcome, I like it. Suits you, Stretch. And because it does, I dont suppose youd consider bunking at Flynns for the next little while. I can take my stuff over to Brads and hang there if thats a factor.”

She turned back slowly. “Are you being accommodating because I was hysterical?”

“Im being accommodating because I want you to feel safe. To be safe.”

“No need to put yourself out.”

“I care about you.” He shifted, blocking her exit before she could move past him. There was a quick flash of rage over his face, almost as quickly banked.

Where had that been hiding? she wondered. And how did he tuck it away again?

“I care, Dana. Just for a minute, one damn minute, set aside the way things ended up. We cared about each other, and if youd feel safer at Flynns, Ill get out of your way.”

“All the way back to New York?”

His mouth thinned as he took one of the bottles out of her hands. “No.”

Maybe it was unfair to poke and prod at him. But what the hell did she care about fair when it came to Jordan? “I wouldnt feel safer at Flynns—with or without you around. In spite of my condition when you knocked on the door, I can take care of myself. I did take care of myself. I got out of it without your help. And nobody, not you, not that bastard Kane, is going to run me out of my own apartment.”

“Well.” He took a sip of beer. “”I see youve moved to the pissed-off stage of tonights entertainment.“

“I dont like being manipulated. He used my own thoughts against me, and youre using old feelings. We cared about each other?” she shot out. “Maybe we did, but remember, thats past tense. If you want to be such a nice guy and get out of my way, then get out of it now. Youre crowding me.”

“Ive got things to say to you, and if Ive got to block you in to get you to hear them, then thats the way it is. I didnt know you loved me. I dont know what it would have changed, I just know it wouldve changed… something. Just like I know I wasnt ready for it. I wasnt smart enough or steady enough.”

“You were smart and steady enough to do what you wanted.”

“Thats exactly right.” With his eyes locked on hers, he nodded. “I was self-absorbed, broody, and restless. What the hell did you want with me, anyway?”

“You idiot.” Because shed lost her taste for it, she set the beer aside. “Youve just described the sort of guy every girl falls for at least once. Then you add those whiffs of recklessness, the brain, the looks, and the chemistry, and I didnt have a chance. How can you make a living writing about people when you dont understand half of them?”

When she tried to push past him, he took her arm. The look she sent him could have melted steel. “Buy a clue, Hawke. I said girls fall for once. Girls generally evolve into smart and steady women who put away the childish things like self-absorbed assholes.”

“Thats good. I prefer women.” He put his beer on the counter. “Ive always preferred you.”

“Do you think that makes my heart gopitty -pat?”

“Not yours, Stretch. But this might.”

He caught her face in his free hand, allowed himself the perverse pleasure of seeing her fury leap out of her eyes, then covered her mouth with his.

Thank God, he thought, thank God she was angry enough that he could do what he hadnt been able to do when she was pale and shaken.

Thered never been a taste hed craved the way he craved Danas. He had never understood it. And never worried that he should. It simply was. She might rake him to the bone for it, but he had a point to prove. To both of them.

He wasnt gentle. Shed never seemed to expect or need gentleness from him. He simply pressed her back to the wall and took.

Heat flooded her, as enervating and nearly as terrifying as the cold shed experienced earlier. There was no point in lying to herself, she wanted to feel this involved again, this aware of self, this needy.

But lying to him was a different matter entirely, so she shoved at him, struggled with herself, and refused to yield to either.

He laid a hand on her heart, and with his mouth only a breath from hers now, stared into her eyes. “Yeah. That got it going.”

“Get this. Its not going to happen. Its never going to happen again.” “Somebody once said, „Whats past is prologue.”

“Shakespeare, you ignorant jerk. The Tempest .”

“Right.” Amused admiration flickered over his face. “You were always better at remembering that stuff than I was. But, in any case, Im not looking to repeat myself. However much were the same, were that much different. Were not the same people we were, Dana. I want a chance to see who we would be together now.”

“Im not interested.”

“Sure you are. Youve got a curious mind, and youre wondering, the same as I am. But maybe youre afraid that being around me will prove too much for your self-control.”

“Please. You arrogant pig.”

“Well, then, why dont we test your self-control and satisfy my curiosity, and have ourselves a date?”

Hed managed to throw her off. “A what?”

“You remember what a date is, Dane. Two people going out to a prearranged location.” Idly, he ran the lapel of her robe between his thumb and forefinger. “Oh, I see, you thought I meant wed just jump straight into bed, rock and roll. Okay, if thats the way you want it—”

“Stop it.” Baffled, annoyed, and more than half amused, she elbowed him aside. “I was not thinking about sex.” And because that was a complete lie, her tone was aloof. “Theres not going to be any rock and roll, as you so succinctly put it. And the idea of a date is just ludicrous.”

“Why? Youd get a free meal out of it. And the added pleasure of being able to shut me down when I put the moves on you, and send me home sexually frustrated.”

“That does have some appeal.”

“Saturday night. Ill pick you up at seven-thirty.”

“How do you know I dont already have a date for Saturday night?”

He grinned at her. “I asked Flynn if you were seeing anybody. I know how to do my research, Stretch.”

“Flynn doesnt know everything,” she retorted as Jordan strolled away. “Wait just a damn minute.” She rushed out into the living room, caught up with him at the door. “There are some basic requirements. The meals in an actual restaurant. No fast food, and not the Main Street Diner. And when you say youll pick me up at seven-thirty, that doesnt mean you get here at seven-forty-five.”

“Agreed.” He paused. “I know theres no point in asking if you want me to stay, bunk on the couch. But you could call Malory, and I could hang out until she got here.”

“Im okay.”

“You always were, Stretch. See you.”

Thoughtfully, she locked the door behind him before wandering back to the kitchen to pour the warm beer down the sink. It seemed to be her night to waste beer.

She didnt know if any of it brought her closer to the key, but shed certainly learned some new things this evening. Kane already knew she was searching for the second key, and hadnt wasted any time putting the whammy on her. Hed wanted her to know he was watching.

And didnt that mean he was worried that she had a good chance of succeeding?

Yeah, that made sense. Malory had shut him down once. So maybe he would be less cocky this time up. And more vicious, she mused.

Shed learned that Jordan still had that core of decency that had always attracted her. Shed been scared, nearly ill with fear, and hed given her exactly what she needed to find her feet again without making her feel foolish or weak.

She had to give him credit for that.

More, she admitted as she went to clean up the mess shed left in the bathroom, she had to give him credit for being honest enough to say hed been selfish.

She could still hate him for it, but she had to respect the fact that he acknowledged it.

She had to bear down hard just to cross the threshold into the bathroom. It gave her the willies to see the book still floating, bloated with water, in the tub.

It was symbolic, she thought, that hed invaded this most personal of rooms. It told her there was no place that she would be completely safe until the key was found or the month was over.

She pulled the plug, watched the water begin to drain.

“Just have to deal,” she ordered. “And it wont be so easy to scare me next time. Ill deal with you. With Jordan. With myself. Because I learned one more thing tonight. Goddamn it, Im still in love with the jerk.”

It didnt make her feel any better to say it out loud, but it did help to put her bathroom to rights again. Her apartment, her things, her life, she thought as she went into the bedroom.

As far as Jordan was concerned, it was much more likely that it was the memory she still loved. The boy, the young, wounded man whod been her first love. Didnt every woman have a soft spot for her first true love?

She settled on the bed, took her bed book out of the nightstand drawer. The paperback she kept there was only a front. The one she opened was Cold Case , by Jordan Hawke.

Wouldnt he crow if he knew she was reading his latest book? Worse, if he knew she was enjoying every damn word.

Maybe she was still in love with the memory of the boy, but she would rather eat live slugs than have the man discover that shed read every one of his books.

Twice.