Ghost Phoenix (25 page)

“Don't take this the wrong way, Richard,” she said in a scratchy voice, “but maybe I'll wait a while for you to teach me to surf.”

He just held her tighter.

He looked up after a moment. “Rasputin?

“No sign of him,” Farley said. “He was probably killed in the cave-in.”

“Did you find his body?”

“Not yet. It's dangerous footing down there. I didn't want to risk anyone being in those tunnels.”

Richard shook his head. “I sincerely doubt he's dead. But at least his operation is exposed. Ms. Nakamora, did you sense him at all?”

She shook her head.

“Then he's gone for now, at least until he decides to strike back.”

“Good,” Marian said.

Alec smiled and knelt next to them. “Either way, Rasputin's done for today and we've cleaned out a monastery's worth of evil monks. Let's get the hell out of here and have a hospital look at your girl.”

“Excellent idea,” Richard said. But soon, he was going to find the madman who'd nearly killed his angel. The first step in that would be to find the traitor in his court.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The local U.S. military hospital checked Marian over but determined that except for some scrapes and bruises, she was fine, and released her.

While she was being examined, she knew Alec Farley, Beth Nakamora, Daz and Richard were all busy conferring with local authorities. Or maybe it was the CIA or some other scary alphabet agency. Whoever they were, it appeared the result was that she and Richard were in the clear as far as any criminal wrongdoing was concerned. But it was decided they all should leave as soon as possible before something upset that apple cart.

As the boarded the plane to go home, Alec assured her they'd look for Rasputin covertly. “He's got a real hard-on for me, so I want to find him first.”

“I'll join you, as soon as I settle some things on my end,” Richard said, packing pillows around Marian's seat. First class, she thought, not like all the previous trips for the family firm, when she'd flown coach. And this time, she wasn't flying alone. Richard was next to her and Alec, Beth and Daz were across the aisle.

One of us. Team.

Richard kissed her cheek as the plane took off. “Rest, love.”

“I feel fine,” she murmured, but she fell asleep almost instantly, with Richard holding her hand.

She woke in the middle of the night. Nearly everyone on the plane slumbered. Beth had her head on Alec's shoulder. “The nicest person I know,” according to Daz. Marian would like to get a chance to know the person who'd helped save her life.

Daz slept with his arms crossed over his chest. He was the odd man out, she thought, and wondered if he'd ever find anyone special.

Like she had.

She closed her eyes and went back to sleep. Only the wheels touching down at LaGuardia woke her up.

“Home, sweet home,” she said.

“For you,” he said. “I have to continue to New Orleans.”

She frowned. “You're getting on another plane?”

“Not yet. I have to go with Alec, Beth and Daz to the Phoenix Institute and exchange some information. You'll come?”

“Absolutely. But we have to make a stop first.”

No TSA agents waited for her outside the plane. Score one for this trip. She and Richard said good-bye temporarily to Daz and his friends just before customs. Marian tugged on Richard's elbow.

“Will you do me a favor?” she asked.

“Anything.”

“Go through customs first. As soon as you do, call me, and then wait at the men's restroom sign.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“You'll see.”

He nodded and went to the line for his turn through inspection.

She turned and walked into the bathroom that was the scene of her defeat only two weeks ago.

I'm going to find you, Tantor, and get you to your rightful home.

She put her back to the camera, stood in front of the sink, and plunged a phantom arm into the wall behind the sink. She closed her eyes, feeling for the difference between solid brick, an air pocket and Tantor's ivory.

Ten seconds, twenty, thirty…and she was almost ready to give up when she found it. She closed her hand around Tantor, made him immaterial, and pulled her arm out of the wall, little elephant and all.

She kissed the top of Tantor's head and went into a stall. She closed the door and vanished through the floor.

It took her only a minute to float through the walls of the baggage claim area and spot Richard.

She tapped his shoulder. He turned and kissed her. She placed Tantor into his palm. “Hold him for a minute, would you? I'll be back as soon as I go through customs.”

“As you wish.”

The return trip to the ladies' room took seconds, then it was the mind-numbing inspection at customs, and then she was in Richard's arms again.

He, of course, had commandeered a limo to take them to Doyle Antiquities.

He produced Tantor for her once they were safely on their way.

“Care to explain?”

“I'm fixing a failure and finishing an obligation.”

“Ah.” He turned Tantor around in his fingers. “He's wicked cute.”

“Yeah, isn't he?”

Once they reached the family firm, she told Richard to double-park outside and wait for her.

“You don't want me to come in?”

“I have to do this myself.”

She pulled Richard's hoodie tight around her as she went up the steps. He'd lent her one when she'd become cold at the hospital.

She strode past the reception lobby, down the hall and marched into her grandfather's office without knocking.

Dad was with him.

“Good, you're both here.” She set Tantor down in the middle of Grandfather's desk. “Item delivered.”

Dad stood. “Marian, are you all right? You look tired, and we haven't heard from you in two days.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “I'm fine. Never been better. And I'm sure Grandfather will be happy with Richard's report on my services.”

Grandfather lifted up Tantor. “About time you retrieved this,” he grumped.

“About time I quit.” She grabbed the little elephant out of his hands. “So I do. I quit. And I'm taking this as my severance package. See you later.”

She tucked Tantor back into her pocket and walked out of the office, paying no attention to her grandfather's bellow that echoed down the hallway.

On the way out of the city, they stopped at a shipping store. She packed up Tantor carefully and sent it to the Greek embassy with an anonymous note that it was being returned to its rightful owners.

No one met Richard at the airport in New Orleans at the end of this trip. It would have been bad if they did, as the more secrecy on this last desperate effort to save the Queen, the better. Richard put his arm around Marian while Daz retrieved the rental car. His new friend wanted to see this through. Richard was glad he'd come.

Daz drove and he and Marian sat in the back.

“You're certain who the traitor is?” Marian asked.

“No doubt,” Daz said. “Drake's research is the best and Alec and I double-checked him. He's not holding back or lying.”

“I believed Drake,” Richard said. “No need for double-checking.”

Drake, it seemed, had the ability to look past hatred, a quality that Edward had lacked.

“Wouldn't it be easier to have Beth use her telepathy to make certain we have the right person?” Marian asked.

“Beth would be the first to tell you that she's still testing the limits of her telepathy. And as Richard could tell you, there are ways to get around it,” Daz said.

“Hard evidence is better,” Richard agreed. “And we have plenty of that. I wouldn't have been able to find phone and travel records for the members of the Court as Drake did.”

“Your people should hire more experts with knowledge of the computer age,” Daz said.

“No doubt improvements are needed.”

“But the records would've been more difficult if you hadn't narrowed down the suspects to four. It made tracking the pharmacy purchases much simpler,” Daz said.

“Thank you.”

“It seemed the least I could do since I owe you for not taking off my head.”

“Marian saved you,” Richard said.

“You both did.”

“It was Marian who was your champion,” Richard said. “But thank you.”

“There's one thing I don't understand. Drake's told me he can't stay drunk. So how could prescription meds affect an immortal?”

“The same way a strong tranquilizer can. We're incapacitated by a drug until it begins to wear off and our healing can take care of the rest. But the Queen was being dosed repeatedly, so it never had a chance to wear off. But I believe she's been fighting the effects at a low level or she might have succumbed already.”

Daz nodded. “That makes sense. Tranqs used to take out Alec temporarily too.”

Richard kissed Marian's cheek. “Angel, you're back-up in case this gets out of control. Protect the Queen at all costs. She's recovering but still weak.”

“Okay, though I'd rather protect you, even though your Queen is Eleanor of Aquitaine. Which, wow, I'm still getting used to that concept.”

“Protecting me shouldn't be necessary. And don't let the Queen see that worship in your eyes. She'll bowl you over if you let her.”

“Good advice.”

They pulled up to the Court's residence, the French Quarter house that seemed familiar and foreign at the same time. He'd been absent for years and was now back for the second time in a month, but this visit had a distinct purpose.

Only Marshal was privy to their plan. They must surprise their traitor. If she knew that she was a suspect, she might flee before they could question her. The only issue was danger to the Queen, but they had Marian to whisk her away. And, besides, now that they'd been careful to stop any further depressants from getting into her system via the doctored pills, the Queen was near to becoming able to take care of herself.

Not that anyone but Marshal knew that yet.

Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine would love the show that was about to happen.

Without thinking, Richard crushed the armrest with his fingers. Evil, that was all he could call it, drugging the Queen with medicine that would literally cause lethargy and chip away at her will to live. Eleanor and everyone else had trusted her handmaidens, trusted to her force of personality to win loyalty. But it seemed she had a rival in Rasputin.

He wondered if Marshal would let the guilty party live. Richard wasn't sure he would.

Daz stepped of the car first and scanned the street for danger. Satisfied, he opened the door for Richard and Marian.

Richard put his hand on Daz's shoulder. “Thank you for coming.”

“Wouldn't miss this party.”

Richard went first, with Marian's arm in his. Winscott met him at the door again, and Richard announced loudly that he had come to present his ladylove to the Queen.

At his urging, Marian had dressed like him, in California casual wear, so as to appear as unsuitable as he was. It was his own little joke.

When told the Queen was still failing, Richard waved away Winscott's concern.

“Dude, no worries. We'll be quick.”

He started up the steps with his party.

“Quite the setup,” Daz said, turning around. “Is that painting hanging in the foyer you?”

“Edward, my brother,” Richard said.

“You did look alike,” Marian said. “But I think that's the only resemblance.”

Richard smiled.

“So why are your people in New Orleans?” Daz asked.

“It's a little bit French, a little bit odd, and full of life and culture. Much like the Queen's native land.”

As on his earlier visit, Greta waited in the receiving room for visitors.

Richard explained their errand and passed off Daz as Marian's brother.

“Brother? Really?” Greta raised her eyebrows.

Marian smiled. “We had different mothers.”

“I see.” She cleared her throat. “The doctor is here. Marshal called for him this morning. He sounded so worried. The news is likely to be bad.” She stared at the floor.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Richard said. Marshal had played his part well. “Then come inside with us, Greta. We need all the witnesses we can gather for our announcement.”

He kissed Marian full on the lips. She responded. A calculated gesture to cover his real purpose and distract Greta. But not an act. Kissing Marian would never be an act. As soon as this was over, he was taking his angel to California, where they wouldn't be disturbed for weeks. Well, days, at least.

Greta set down her needlework, all the while glaring at Marian. “Richard is a prince and can do as he wishes, whether I like it or not. But visitors to the Queen shouldn't be so…brazen.”

Marian shrugged. “Sorry, I've just discovered I'm not good at following orders.”

Richard opened the door for her. They entered the Queen's bedchamber together, Daz and Greta following.

Daz seemed relaxed, though he must be alert.

Marian squeezed Richard's hand.

“Nervous?” he asked. “Don't be. This should go smoothly.”

“I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about meeting William Marshal, the greatest knight of the Middle Ages, and Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine.”

Fresh air wafted from the open window, making this a much different room than the one he'd entered the last time.

The Queen's bed curtains were closed. Marshal stood watch at the foot of the bed. Doctor Samnee stood near the window, talking quietly with Jason FitzHugh, the herald, and Joanna, the other handmaiden. Greta moved over to speak to her sister.

A moan sounded from behind the bed curtains.

“Melodramatic as always, My Queen,” Richard said.

“Enough, Richard, of your disrespect,” Marshal said. “Greta! Bring me the Queen's medication. Quickly now! She's in pain.”

Greta opened the top drawer of a wardrobe bureau, took out a bottle of pills and rushed over to the Marshal. He took the bottle and pushed aside the bed curtains.

The Queen was sitting up. Her cheeks had color and her lips were far less cracked and ravaged by time. Weight still needed to be added to her frame, but the Queen was herself again.

“God's eyes, you look good,” Richard said.

“Yes, I know,” the Queen said, serene. “No thanks to you, Greta, my dear handmaiden.”

Greta shrank back. “My Queen! They said you were dying. They wouldn't let me see you. But you're better! Thank the merciful God!” She put her hand dramatically over her heart.

“No, thank Richard, his woman and my Marshal,” Eleanor said. “Not you.”

Greta backed off several more steps. “I don't understand. Has my service been unsatisfactory, my Queen?”

“Yes, you're going to see just how unsatisfactory.”

Daz blocked the door. Marshal brought the pill bottle over to the doctor. “Can you tell me if this is the medication you prescribed, Dr. Samnee?”