Authors: Julie Ortolon
Questions crowded Chloe’s mind, but she couldn’t ask any without giving away that she knew Luc. That would lead to the grandmother telling him that Chloe was in town and had asked about him. She wasn’t sure he’d appreciate that any more than an out-of-the-blue phone call from the woman who’d destroyed his artwork.
“Would you like to have your portrait done?”
Chloe started to decline since it was such a touristy thing to do, but stopped herself. Sitting for a portrait would give her a chance to ask questions about Luc and help her decide whether to contact him. “I would, actually.”
“Well, have a seat.” The woman waved her into the chair. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Chloe settled into the chair, debating what to ask first. “You said your grandson is also an artist?”
“In a way.” The woman clipped a fresh piece of paper to the board on the easel, then picked up a colored pencil. “He creates whole worlds of art, but on the computer. Since he’s happy, I can’t complain.”
“Is he happy?”
“For the most part. Until recently, anyway.” The woman looked straight into Chloe’s eyes with an unsettling directness, as if she knew who Chloe was and blamed her for Luc’s unhappiness.
Chloe squirmed, not sure if she should feel guilt or hope. Could Luc be as miserable over their break-up as she was? If he was, wouldn’t that mean he had honestly cared for her?
Since she couldn’t blurt out any of the questions hounding her, she searched for a way to change the subject. “Have you been drawing portraits long?”
“For money? No.” The woman sighed as she worked. “Before Katrina, I had the joy of being a fortuneteller. Sadly, I lost my sight.”
“I’m sorry,” Chloe said, swamped with even more sympathy than when Luc had told her what had happened. “I didn’t realize that was possible. I thought if a person had the gift, they always had it.”
The woman gave her another of those unnerving looks. “All things happen for a reason.”
Her statement seemed so accepting. What would it be like to live with such certainty that everything had a purpose, that every step she took was leading her to the place she belonged? She wondered how things would have played out for her and Luc if he had told her about the necklace right away. She would have been upset, but at least she wouldn’t have felt like he’d manipulated and used her.
But would she have been upset enough that she wouldn’t have gone out with him? That was a distinct possibility, considering she was the one who’d asked him out. If he’d told her right away, they wouldn’t have had that date. And she wouldn’t have had two days to discover everything she liked about Luc before she learned he was keeping something so important from her.
“There, all done,” the woman announced, turning the easel so Chloe could see the drawing.
Chloe blinked in surprise. Her expression in the sketch held a wistful quality that made her look heartbreakingly sad, yet brave. “You made me more beautiful than I am.”
“I draw what I see.” While Luc had said the same thing, with his grandmother, the words seemed to hold some hidden meaning. As if this woman could see the longing inside her.
“How much do I owe you?”
Luc’s grandmother named a figure that seemed far too small for such talent. Chloe reached into her purse and pulled out several bills, more than the woman had asked for.
“You gave me too much. Here.” The woman pulled a twenty from the stack and tried to hand it back.
“No. Your talent deserves it.”
The woman eyed her for a moment, then held out her hand. “For that, you deserve a palm reading.”
When Chloe relented, the woman took hold of her hand and peered at her palm.
“You are at a crossroads,” she said, then traced a fingertip along the lines in Chloe’s skin, sending a shiver through her. “You stand with much sorrow behind you and two paths before you. One path holds great happiness, the other more sorrow.”
“Which will I choose?” Chloe asked breathlessly.
The woman looked hard, then shook her head. “My vision is too murky to tell.” She curled Chloe’s fingers into her palm and looked up at her. “I do see this, though. You are loved far more than you realize, but you won’t enjoy it until you learn to believe it.”
“Thank you,” Chloe managed past the sudden lump in her throat.
Luc’s grandmother rolled the drawing and slid it into a tube. Taking it, Chloe walked away, more torn than ever.
Refusing to help Luc because he’d used her—if he had—was one thing. Refusing to help his grandmother? Grief assailed her at the thought. But if she helped Luc get the necklace, Diane would never forgive her.
An urge to see Luc and explain filled her, but the idea of facing him made her want to groan. The only thing worse would be never speaking to him again.
Suck it up, Chloe,
she ordered herself.
Get the number for Vortal, and call him.
Except calling wouldn’t be enough. She needed to see him while they talked, to read his expression. Which meant, she had to go to Vortal in person. Before she lost her nerve. Luc had told her he’d bought a warehouse on the outskirts of the French Quarter for his business. Since “outskirts” covered a lot of territory, she pulled out her phone and searched for the address. Finding it, she felt her stomach sink. That was not an area for a woman to wander through alone.
Maybe she should call instead.
No. Don’t be a chicken. Just do it.
Getting a firm grip on her courage, she hailed a cab.
~ ~ ~
Moments later, the cab pulled to a stop at the address she’d given. Her eyes widened at the derelict, three-story building that looked like a rusty metal box covered in graffiti. The alley beside it would make a great place to get mugged.
“This the right place, miss?” the driver asked, apparently sharing her concern.
“I think so.” She checked her phone, confirming the street number. The driver told her how much she owed, and she added a tip. “I don’t think I’ll be long. Will you wait for me?”
When he agreed, she climbed out and went to the metal door covered in layers of spray paint. Someone had written, “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.” The paint on several of the letters had dripped down the door like black blood. Since there wasn’t a doorbell, she knocked and waited. Glancing up and down the street, she grew more worried. Should she try the knob to see if it was locked? Maybe this was just a warehouse, not the office where Luc worked. She knocked again, louder this time.
Just when she was about to give up, the door creaked open and a tall guy, about her age, poked his head out. He had a bony face and short blond hair that stuck up at odd angles.
“You rang?” he asked in an ominous tone.
“I—I’m looking for the office for Vortal.”
“Office? Office?” He sounded offended. “Does this look like an office, hmm?”
“Uhhh...” Her heart pounded with uncertainty since the space behind him looked pitch black. “Not exactly.”
“We don’t need no stinking office.” He spoke in a strange voice, as if quoting a line from a movie.
“I’m sorry. I must have gotten the address wrong. Do you know where I can find Vortal? It’s a gaming software company.”
“Found it, you did, hmmm.” This time at least she recognized the voice as Yoda from
The Empire Strikes Back
.
“Oh, good.” She tried to smile, but it felt stiff. “I’m looking for Luc Renard.”
“Come in. Come in.” When he opened the door further, she saw he wore a strange vest and he held a massive, gun-type weapon in one hand. She froze, startled by the gun, until she saw it looked like a toy.
“Follow me,” he said, speaking in a normal voice at last. He started down a dark corridor. “I might as well take you to our leader since I’m currently dead.”
She hesitated, then took a cautious step forward to peer inside. Faint, colored light came to her from the far end, along with chaotic noise, like an arcade. Luc had mentioned something about converting the place into a gamers’ nirvana.
“Well?” the man who’d answered the door called. “Are you coming?”
With a deep breath, Chloe followed him down the dark passage. As they neared the source of noise and colored light, she saw red laser beams streak through the darkness, heard male voices shouting taunts. Reaching the end of the hallway, she gaped in wonder at a high-ceilinged space crisscrossed with rope bridges. Moving beams of light made the area feel like a prison compound during an escape attempt. Before she could take it all in, someone charged out of the darkness, nearly knocking her over as he ran past.
An explosion of noise, like blasts from a ray gun, filled the air as the figure dove over an object that looked like a sofa.
“You die, troll!” someone shouted from across the room.
“Up yours, scumbag!” The first figure popped up from behind the sofa and fired back, driving his opponent behind a column. More blasting sounds came from overhead. Chloe looked up to see a third figure firing down from the railing on the second floor. From what she could make out, the industrial-looking rail ringed the open area on three sides while a rock climbing wall took up the fourth.
More blasts were exchanged until the first figure popped up, clutching his chest as his vest went crazy with blinking red lights. Emitting an agonized cry, he collapsed out of sight behind the sofa.
“Victory!” the figure on the second floor lifted his weapon in celebration.
“Not so fast, Martin.” The figure who had taken cover behind the column fired a round of blasts toward the second floor.
“You dare break a truce?” The combatant on the second floor growled as he aimed. “Die for your impudence!”
“Come and get me,” the guy behind the column shouted, then darted to a new hiding place in the darkness.
The guy named Martin on the second floor jumped over the rail onto one of the rope bridges. He raced along it until he reached a rope that hung from the center of the ceiling. Holstering his ray gun, he grabbed the rope and swung down, rappelling off the rock climbing wall. He finally dropped to his feet on the ground floor.
“Halt!” someone shouted from above before Martin could retrieve his weapon. Martin stopped with his hand halfway to his weapon, moving only his head to glance upward. Chloe looked up as well to the third floor railing directly above her, where arms extended past the rail, training a weapon on the man.
“You and Eddie have broken the rules of the game for the last time with your secret deals and truces,” the man overhead declared.
Luc?
Chloe wondered. With the voice distorted for drama, she couldn’t tell, but her pulse drummed at the thought as he intoned, “Beg for pity, or die!”
Drawn by the voice, she stepped forward and tilted her head up to see. Her breath caught at the sight of Luc looking so menacing, with a gun held in both hands.
Movement from below caught Luc’s eye. He jerked his weapon downward, preparing to fire, then froze in shock.
In that split second of distraction, Martin whipped his weapon from its holster and fired. Luc’s vest erupted with flashing red light and the shrill noise of a hit. The vibrations surrounding his chest felt like a heart attack, and he nearly dropped his weapon.
“Blade dies!” Martin shouted, dancing in victory.
Luc ignored him as he stared down at the woman who had materialized in his inner sanctum. “Chloe?”
“Dude, I killed you!” Martin complained. “You’re supposed to die.”
“What are you doing here?” Luc asked in shock.
“I—” Chloe glanced nervously about, then back up at him. “I came to see you.”
“Man,” Martin groused, “talk about breaking the rules of the game.”
Luc couldn’t move. Of all the scenarios he’d run through his head for the next time he saw Chloe—
if
he ever saw her again—having her walk into Vortal Headquarters in the middle of a game of laser tag hadn’t even made the list. Embarrassment started to engulf him but he shoved it aside. He was who he was. If she considered laser tag dorky, so be it. He was one badass dork!
Just then, the Bonus Power Panel on the second floor lit up. A computerized voice started counting down to detonation. Everyone on the ground floor ran to the opposite side of the room, firing up at the blinking panel, hoping to knock it out and claim the super powers. If no one knocked it out, everyone within its destruction radius would die. Zeke charged out from the same passage from which Chloe had emerged, his death time over.
Chloe covered her ears, flinching as if she stood in the middle of a real gun battle.
Luc started to run for cover to avoid permanent death for this game, but a quick calculation stopped him. Since Martin’s shot had only hit his shoulder, his current death time was brief enough to expire almost simultaneously with the detonation. Deciding to stand his ground and chance it so he could end this game and focus on Chloe, he trained his weapon on the blinking center of the Bonus Power Panel.