INVITING FIRE (A Sydney Rye Novel, #6) (19 page)

Mulberry pulled open the mosquito net and sat me on the bed. Then he took off his shirt and pulled off his pants so he was just in his boxers. My eyes ran over his body, remembering it. The scar on his abdomen looked older, it blended better with his skin. He sat on the bed next to me and pushed his way to the top of it, patting the mattress next to him. I swung around and climbed up so that I was next to him. Mulberry sat forward and closed the mosquito net, tucking it under the mattress so that we would be safe from any creatures that might try to crawl on us in the night.

Then he laid down with my back to him, wrapped his arm around my waist and placed his palm over my heart. His warm breath was against my neck. Comforting in the way that Merl's calm was comforting and the way that the jungle noises comforted me. The way that Blue's weight against my leg comforted me. All those things felt like home. His strong chest against my back and fingers splayed across my collarbone made me feel safe and I let my eyelids drift closed. Mulberry shifted and turned off the light and then he was back around me. The smell of him, of musk and sweat and something holy, filled my senses. I relaxed into his arms and fell into a deep sleep.

I held him down. My palms on his shoulders, fingers wrapping around them. My nails dug into his skin so that I felt blood pooling there. I straddled him, my thighs squeezing his abdomen. He didn't struggle, not at all. But his breath was shallower, more excited, as my anger peaked.

"Hey," Mulberry said, shaking me.

I opened my eyes, groggily flittering my lids, letting the light in slowly. Mulberry sat next to me on the bed, mosquito net pushed aside. "Hey," he said again. "You okay?"

I looked up at him, confused, disoriented. That smell was in the air, the one that haunted my dreams and clung to Robert Maxim. "I'm fine," I said, forcing a smile. Mulberry smiled back, his eyes unsure. "It was just a dream," I said.

Mulberry's cheeks reddened. "Must've been some dream," he said. "Who was in it?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I don't remember," I said, looking past him toward the balcony doors.

"If you say so," Mulberry said. "Here. Coffee." Mulberry held out a mug. I pushed myself up and took it from him, the scent of fresh brewed coffee filling my senses, waking me up.

"Thanks," I said sipping. It was light and sweet and heady with rich aroma. I noticed Mulberry's bag sitting on the chair.

He saw me notice. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked

I wanted to tell him I wanted him there. For him to understand what he meant to me and how much I needed him. But I didn't. How could I ask Mulberry to stay with me when I knew what was lurking at the pit of me, the center of me, just waiting to be free.

"Hey, Sydney," Mulberry said, putting his hand on my knee. "I can move it if you want."

I sipped the coffee.

Mulberry frowned. "We're not in a relationship," he said. "You made that very clear to me."

"I know, but..."

"I've been seeing other people, Sydney," I raised my eyebrows involuntarily. "Nothing serious. What? You didn't think I was being a monk did you?"

"No," I stuttered. "I didn't think about it."

He smiled at me. "Not at all?" he teased. I just drank my coffee. "I'm pretty sure Dan and Anita are doing something, too," Mulberry continued, ignoring my comment.

"What?" I said.

Mulberry laughed. "It's turning into quite the soap opera around here."

"Jesus, this isn't good."

"Why?" Mulberry asked.

"Won't it tear us apart?" I asked. "All these personal relationships."

Mulberry shook his head. "I'm not worried about it. We'll probably all be killed before that," he said with a grin.

"Shut up," I laughed. The joke even funnier since I'd almost crashed and burned. Funny cause it's true. Totally true.

Mulberry squeezed my knee. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Okay?" I said, suddenly nervous.

"I'm proud of you."

"What?"

Mulberry smiled and ran a hand through his hair, standing it up on end. I loved it when he did that. "You've recovered really well, you did great on your mission. Didn't kill anyone," he said with a sheepish smile.

"Okay," I said. "You know that whole mission got fucked by Robert Maxim. Juan Carlos is dead. We have to start all over again."

Mulberry nodded. "Merl told me. Doesn't mean I'm not proud of you."

"I'm proud of you, too," I said.

"You are?"

"Yeah, Mulberry," I said, playing with the collar of his shirt. "You run this show. You're really doing it."

Mulberry kissed my cheek. "Some would say I'm on this side of the ‘in it’ line." I laughed. When I'd convinced Mulberry to help me kill a man and steal all his treasure back in New York, I yelled at him somewhat incoherently about an "in it" line that I was way over and that he was too but didn't even know it. Anyway, inside joke. "Well, thanks," he said. "Come on, enough of this mushy stuff," he said. "I'll walk you over to the conference room. We've got a council meeting to attend." He stood up and offered me his bent elbow.

"How gentlemanly of you," I joked, grabbing onto it and stepping out of the bed.

"I'm always a gentleman," he said, offering me a pair of shorts.

No you’re not
, I thought as I finished getting dressed.

W
hen Mulberry and I arrived at the conference room, Merl was not alone. A new young man whose name I didn't know was helping him. The man looked to be about 25, soft skin, narrow shoulders, thin physique. As we came in he smiled and held out his hand introducing himself as Phil.

Mulberry and I both shook his hand and then he blushed and Merl excused him. Phil closed the door on his way out, leaving the three of us alone. The large screen hanging on the wall was separated into three black squares, each with small white lettering in the center that read
no signal
. We took our seats. Mulberry and I closer to the door, Merl's back to the windows. There was tension in the room. We all looked at the speaker in the center of the conference table. It was the box that Robert Maxim's voice would come out of. Assuming he picked up.

In front of each of us sat a bottle of spring water. When I unscrewed the top of mine the crackling noise was loud in our stillness. One of the feeds went live as I sipped from the bottle and Dan's face appeared on screen. He smiled when he saw us and we smiled back. Dan had yet to shave the beard that he'd begun to grow in Miami. It was long and full now. His hair was longer too and wild. Dan's skin looked tan and wind beaten. He looked like a sailor who'd just returned from an ocean journey.

The other two feeds went live within seconds of each other and Anita and Lenox appeared on the screens. Anita wore glasses that she pushed up her nose when she saw us, a new nervous habit. Her smile was tense and the skin around her eyes tight.

Lenox, in contrast, look supremely relaxed. His white buttoned-down shirt was pressed to perfection. Around his neck that thin gold chain seemed to glitter through the screen at me.

We all said our hellos and then Mulberry called the meeting to order. "Obviously," he said, "we know the reason we are here. The events reported by Sydney Rye and Lenox Gold aboard
Goldilocks
." Everybody nodded and muttered their agreement. "Let's go over it again," he suggested. Everyone looked at me. I recounted the story once more, while Merl put the photos that Lenox had taken on the screen. The scene looked unreal, like the blood was just dyed corn syrup.

When I was done Merl pulled out the envelope. We were all silent as he opened it and removed the thin piece of paper held within. He unfurled it and laid it on the table, pressing his palm against it to flatten the wrinkles.

The number on the paper was 10 digits long. With a Miami area code. Dan asked if we were ready and everyone agreed. The speaker in the center of the table began to ring. The sound pealed out into the room. On the fourth ring the line clicked over and Muzak began to play. I couldn't help but laugh. It was so wholly ridiculous, so Robert Maxim.

"What is this?" Lenox asked.

"This is probably a direct line to him," Dan said. "And he may not be immediately available."

"Well how long are we supposed to wait?" Lenox asked

"As long as he wants," I said.

It was only another moment before a voice came on the line, "Sydney?" I recognized Robert Maxim’s voice immediately and it wasn't from the time I'd spent with him in person but from the way he whispered to me in my dream. Everyone was looking at me, I realized. Merl gave a little nod.

"Yes," I said.

"Who else is there?" Robert asked.

"No one," I said.

He laughed. "Put Mulberry on the phone," Maxim said.

I looked over at Mulberry, his jaw was ticking away. Merl tilted his chin, gesturing for Mulberry to speak. Lenox and Dan were nodding as well. Anita's brow was creased in frustration and thought.

"What can I do for you, Robert?" Mulberry asked.

"Take me off speakerphone," Bobby said.

"Okay, you're off," Mulberry said.

Robert laughed. "You two are so predictable. Take me off speakerphone, Mulberry. It's as much for me as for you."

"I have nothing to hide," Mulberry said.

"Just pick up the phone," Robert said. "I'm not going to talk on an open line."

I shrugged and nodded my head, what did I care if Bobby talked to Mulberry alone? Mulberry looked around at the other members of the Joyful Justice Council and they too nodded their agreement. Dan typed and a message appeared on his screen that he was recording the whole thing anyway so it didn't really matter. Mulberry picked up the handset and held it gently against his face.

I could hear Bobby's voice but not the words. Mulberry's face was a mask, his eyes cast toward the table, filled with clouds. Then he looked up at me, the yellow in his irises glinting. His lips twitched into a smile. "You can try," he said, his voice low and graveled. "I just wish I was there to see it." Bobby talked some more and Mulberry pulled out a pen and notebook from his inside jacket pocket. He wrote one line and then hung up the phone.

"So, he didn't want talk to me?" I asked.

"Nope, he wants you to meet him at these coordinates," he tapped at his notepad with the pen. "He wants to meet with you to discuss a cease-fire. He thinks that you two can come to an agreement."

"What does that mean?" Dan said.

"He says that he represents the organizations that received our packages."

"And if we refuse?" Anita asked.

"He didn't say," Mulberry answered.

He was staring at me, his eyes bright but his expression calm. "What were you talking about when you said you wanted to see him try?" I asked.

"That's personal," Mulberry said.

Silence followed that statement. I looked over at Dan, knowing he'd recorded it all. He did not meet my gaze and so I looked around the room.

"I'd like to recuse myself from this decision," Mulberry said, turning away from me. There was an intake of breath, a collective gasp almost. Mulberry raised his hand, fending off any more articulate response. "I can't think about what is best for Joyful Justice," he said. "I care about her too much." I stared at his face. Wishing he would glance over at me but he kept his attention on the speaker box in the center of the table. His jaw clenched, I saw the muscles twitching in his cheek.

"By that standard, Mulberry, we should all recuse ourselves," Dan said, his voice tight.

Mulberry shrugged. "Then go-ahead."

I interrupted, "Please," I held my hands out, "we don't have time for this. I don't know everything there is to know here and I don't want you to tell me in case Maxim has some insane way of torturing it out of me. Please make this decision. I trust you."

Mulberry looked over at me. "I'm sorry," he said. "I can't."

Lenox spoke up. "I can, I know you'd do the same for me." Dan began to speak but Lenox continued. "Let's discuss this in private," he said to the others.

"Okay," I said. "I guess I'll leave then." I stood up and Blue came out from underneath the table to stand by my side.

"We will let you know as soon as we've decided," Merl said.

W
hen Blue and I got back to the villa, I immediately changed into jogging clothes. My mind felt split into a million pieces and I didn't know what to think about, so I decided the best course of action was to think about nothing at all. I put on my headphones, Blue tapped my hip and we ran out the door.

I went straight to the toughest trail I knew, pushing myself. I could feel the effects of scaling
Goldilocks
. There was soreness in my thighs and calves. I felt it in my shoulders as I pumped my arms. The soreness felt good, it was something I’d earned by doing something important. A thrill ran through me, along with the tingle of fear, as I thought about what Robert Maxim wanted from me.

What kind of a cease-fire could we agree to? I wondered. What principles could we bend in order to save our own lives? And weren't these principles, the ones we'd set out in the first place, all about saving lives? About improving lives and stopping men like Bobby Maxim from taking advantage of people who were not strong enough to stand up against him?

As the hill grew steeper and the path muddier these thoughts were pushed from my mind. My pace slowed with the increased incline. At the very top I had to grasp at tree roots and find solid rocks to scale to the summit. Blue bounded ahead of me, using his momentum to reach the top. Then he spun around and looked down at me, his tongue hanging from his mouth.

He barked, high-pitched, encouraging me. I made it to the top and lay down next to him. Blue licked my cheek and I rolled away, breathing heavily, enjoying the burn that consumed my lungs and muscles. I looked out into the jungle through the spaces that the plants allowed. It was like a kaleidoscope, lots of little triangles of darkness and light. Wind rustled the leaves, unseen animals moved the branches. Sunlight penetrated to the ground in small brilliant diamonds of light. They looked like spotlights on a crowded stage. I pulled off my headphones for the run home. There is a beat in the jungle all its own that will make you run faster than any music you've ever known.