Chapter Sixteen

Jade

My hand gripping his, I yanked Magnus around. "Casual," I snapped under my breath. "Look at me, smile, put your arm over my shoulders."

Magnus obeyed, his smile brittle, yet was there should the dragons happen to look in our direction. As though we were two lovers who'd just entered the diner ahead of them, I slipped my arm around his waist as his draped across my shoulders.

"Nice and easy," I muttered when I wanted to run. "We'll draw their attention if we hurry."

"Are they following?" he asked, his voice tight.

"I can't tell. Keep going. Like we're headed to the bathrooms."

Listening intently, I couldn't determine if I heard their feet coming after us, or the ordinary movements of the staff and customers. I looked at the faces of those we passed, marking whether they glanced past us to three big thugs behind us, or if they merely looked ahead. I hoped I read their body language correctly.

At the hall that led to the restrooms, we paused, and I risked a glance back.

The hostess, menus in her hand, escorted the dragons to a booth.

"Oh, shit." I gasped, bending over, my hands on my knees. "That was close. Too close."

My chest felt tight. I couldn't draw air into my lungs. Black spots roamed amid my darkening vision. My head spun in sickening swirls. "Can't breathe."

"Easy," Magnus murmured, his hand rubbing my back. "I think you're having an anxiety attack. Just relax, I'm here. Just relax, we're good."

I focused my attention on his hand, his soothing voice, fighting to obey him and relax while struggling to get air into my lungs. Someone, a customer or an employee, paused nearby to ask if I was all right.

"Anxiety attack," Magnus assured the person. "They happen. She'll be okay."

"I get them," the lady said. "Horrible things. If you need help, I'll be right over here."

"Thank you."

Get it together, dammit. This isn't time to fall apart. You're a fucking dragon. You had a near miss, that's all. No harm, no foul, just breathe, just breathe.

At long last, I could. My airway opened up, the spots vanished, my whirling head calmed. Magnus's strong hand on my back remained, even after I sucked in a deep breath and straightened. I couldn't meet his eyes, however.

"Thanks," I murmured. "That was bad."

"I could tell."

"It was – it – I've never had one before."

Magnus took me into his brawny arms, holding me tightly against his chest. "I confess I froze," he said, his voice low. "I saw those guys – I froze. Like a damn deer in the headlights. I didn't know what to do. You did."

"You – you don't think I'm a pussy?"

He snorted. "We're ordinary people caught up in a very unordinary problem. We have people out to kill us. Had those dudes recognized us instantly, we'd be dead now. That we're in a diner full of innocents wouldn't matter. You're the furthest thing from a pussy."

He kissed my temple. "Though I'd sure like to check your pussy out."

"You whore," I snapped, half-laughing. "We'd better get out of here before one of them gets the urge to piss."

Magnus peered around the corner. "Okay, they're at a booth where their line of sight isn't great. Casual, arms around each other, we simply walk out of here. Don't do anything to get their attention."

I slipped my arm around his waist. "Let's go. Before I hurl all my bacon."

"We wouldn't want that. All that lovely bacon gone to waste."

Keeping my head down, trying to walk casually, we strolled, smiling fake smiles, across the diner to the entrance. From the corner of my eye, I saw the dragons in their booth, looking at menus, drinking coffee. None even glanced in our direction.

Still, I didn't breathe properly until we reached the Jeep, and Magnus drove us from the parking lot. "Holy shit. We're getting wigs right now. And maybe something else to hide our faces. Christ, that was bad."

"Fake glasses," Magnus mused, his hand gripping mine. "Make us look scholarly. You don't wear lipstick, put some on. Garish red."

"Ugh." I sank down in the seat. "I hate garish red lipstick."

"So do most guys," Magnus said with a grin. "They'll look past you to avoid the red."

"Why don't you wear the lipstick?" I demanded.

"Want me to?" Magnus asked. "I would. But that'd draw their attention when we don't want attention."

"I hate you."

"I know."

***

Magnus stared at himself in the mirror, caressing his longish white locks that curled around his neck. "You know who I look like?"

"Who?"

"Jimmy Savile."

I studied my own reflection as I applied not just red lipstick to my lips but also fake eyelashes to my eyes. "Who's Jimmy Savile?"

"Brit. Got famous for great deeds, had raped and sexually assaulted kids all over Great Britain. Wasn't really discovered until after he died."

"What a monster. I'd love to dig him up and castrate him. How do I look?"

I turned to Magnus, who looked me up and down, then nodded.

"A big floppy hat," he suggested. "A ball cap for me."

Where a redhead and a man with black hair had entered the novelty shop, two blondes wearing eyeglasses and hats stepped from it. As I hardly recognized myself, I doubted Arnaud or any of his goons could. We got into the Jeep and drove toward Arnaud's ritzy area of town.

"There's an electronics store just down that way," I said, gesturing.

"Gotcha."

Feeling confident in my disguise, I shopped for cameras while Magnus sought out laptop computers. I selected two Nikon digital cameras that were compact enough to fit into pockets, yet high quality enough to take good pictures. We met at the check-out counter where I produced my bank card.

"I can buy these," Magnus protested.

"I've got it. You bought breakfast."

"Ay-yi-yi."

"Never argue with a woman, dear," I said, handing my card to the clerk. "You'll never win."

Thirty or so minutes later, we cruised slowly past Arnaud's house. As before, it stood gaudy, immense, and apparently deserted.

"Think he's home?" I asked as we rolled by.

"Can't tell. Let's park here for a few minutes."

Magnus turned the Jeep around, then eased it to the curb two houses up from Arnaud's. "We won't be here long enough to offend the neighbors."

"We don't need the cops checking us out."

In silence, we watched the house, holding hands, content with one another's company. I tasted the nasty lipstick anytime I licked my lips, then licked them again to wash the shit off.

"Quit that," Magnus murmured.

"I hate lipstick."

"Suck it up, buttercup."

After ten minutes, Magnus put the Jeep into drive, then rolled down the street. Once again, we passed Arnaud's house, parked two houses down, and watched again. We'd sat there for the ten-minute interval, with Magnus reaching for the gear lever, when a Mercedes drove down the long driveway.

"He's leaving," Magnus gasped. "Get down."

I snatched the hat from my head, and ducked below the dash even as Magnus's face was close enough to kiss me had he wanted to. I heard the Mercedes drive past without slowing, its tires on the asphalt creating a purring sound.

"I don't know how much time we have," Magnus said, popping up. "Let's do this."

He drove up Arnaud's driveway but didn't park in front of the huge four car garage. Instead, he drove around to the back and parked there. "The Jeep won't be seen right away," he explained. "Not unless someone comes back here, and no one does. Except the gardener."

"Where's the gardener?" I asked, stepping out.

"On vacation this time of year. Come on."

He took me to the house's rear door, then fished a key from his pocket. After easing the door open, he beckoned me in while making a shushing gesture with his fingers over his lips. Taking my hand, he led me down a short hallway, then pointed toward what appeared to be the kitchen. I nodded in reply, understanding that's where the cook lived and served.

Knowing the house well, Magnus took me up the carpeted stairs, as silent as a ghost, to the second floor. I didn't pause to admire the artwork Arnaud had collected, nor the rich finery in the guestrooms we passed. I caught a quick glimpse of Arnaud's master bedroom, and the sleeping female form within the mussed bed.

I grimaced but said nothing. Following Magnus to the end of the hall, I waited as he used his key to open the door. Once we stood inside, he silently shut it.

Gazing around the big office, eyeing the vast desk with a lamp, computer, and keyboard file drawers, pens in their stands, I asked, "What's first?"

Magnus also gazed around. "You start with the desk. I'll look through the cabinets."

"What if everything is on that computer?"

"We're screwed."

"Oh." I stepped to the desk. "Good to know."

Arnaud's drawers revealed bank statements, contracts, employment records, tax records, old birthday cards, and even a few pictures of a woman and a young boy. "Is this you?"

Magnus gave the photo a quick glance. "Yeah."

"Got anything?"

"Maybe. Take a look."

I closed the drawers, making sure to leave everything exactly as I'd found them, I crossed the room to his side. Magnus opened a big manila envelope filled with photos. He dumped them on the cabinet to sort through.

"Uh," I said, swallowing hard. "These – these are porn."

"Not porn," he said, his tone grim, holding a picture up. "Blackmail. Don't you recognize him?"

I studied the photo, then sucked in my breath. "Oh, shit. Oh my God, that's –"

"Yeah, spread these out and start taking pictures. Get as close as you can, we want every detail. Work fast. My gut says we don't have much time."

I used my new camera to snap shots of all the photos Magnus handed me. My mouth dry, I saw sexual poses and positions I'd never thought were possible much less pleasurable. "What do you have?"

"Ledgers," he answered, tense, also taking photos. "Dates, amounts, names. We hit the jackpot, babe."

"Gawd," I exclaimed, disgusted. "Why would any woman want to be whipped for sex?"

"Who says they want to?"

"Insensitivity alert. These are trafficked women?"

"Most likely. I'm seeing lists of women bought and sold. Christ, my old man is a monster. I don't even know if I can shoot all these pages, there are so many here."

"Get as many as you can. I'm almost done with the porn."

I finished, shoved my camera into my pocket, then placed the photos back into the envelope. "I sure hope he doesn't check these."

Magnus took the envelope back, then handed me a large ledger. "Get busy."

I snapped shot after shot of page after page, making sure every photo was as clear as I could make it. The camera grew warm in my hands, the sweat from my fingers smudged pages as I turned them. Magnus finished one ledger, then started on another.

"He must have backups on the computer," Magnus muttered. "But we don't dare grab it. Or try to hack it."

"We've got enough."

Finishing the ledgers, we put them back exactly how we found them, and eased the cabinet drawers closed. I grinned at the sweat that dripped from Magnus's cheeks and nose, then used my sleeve to wipe it away.

"Let's go," I murmured, tucking my camera in my pocket.

"Just like we did before."

After locking the door behind us, his hand in mine, Magnus stepped silently down the hall toward the stairs. The woman still slept in Arnaud's bed, perhaps drugged to the max. I hated leaving her, but I had no choice. He has the keys. Maybe we can come back, snatch her.

"Who the fuck're you?"