Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

The next evening, right after sunset, lounging on golden-weaved pillows in their pastel striped hotel suite, Aaron explained Urvashi’s plans to Michelle.  She reacted as expected – not happy.

“What is she doing now?  Chienne fou.  She will kill us all.”  Despite her ire, Michelle pecked Aaron on the cheek and held his chin, pinning him with her vivid, emerald green gaze.  Her flawless pale skin, elegant, patrician features and golden-blonde hair had never failed to hold his attention, but it was her eyes that always snared him.

“Michelle, you have to trust her.  I trust her.”  He wished he could share his connection to Urvashi with Michelle, the way they used to share everything.

“You are blinded by your bond to her.  For me, is simple.  She does not love you and I do.”

“This has nothing to do with love.  It’s about getting the job done.  You’ve been hot to find Michael Jamison for weeks.  We’ve gotten nowhere until last night.  This is our first lead since he killed that bank teller.”

Although the BBC news declared the woman’s death a cardiac arrest, Urvashi had ferreted out the truth.  The woman had been left in the alley, short a couple pints of blood, with telltale puncture wounds on her neck.  Aaron continually wondered why Jamison murdered the bank teller.  Maybe he simply couldn’t stop feeding until he killed her, an accident of sorts.

Michelle pulled Aaron’s face to her, nose to nose.  “Oui, mon amour, we will find him soon enough.  But I have always worked alone.  I trust no one but you.”

He took her hands, curling his fingers with hers.  Michelle had gone through hell with her master, Julian, decades ago.  The man had fucked her head up royally.

“That was the life Julian taught you.  But it is not our life.  Michelle, I want to live, with you, for real.  No more hiding in nightclubs and back alleys.  We are going to start building a life, connecting with people, trusting people.  We’ll start with Urvashi.  My father said people deserve the benefit of the doubt until they prove otherwise.  Trust is a two-way street.  You have to give to receive.”

“You cannot see her.  She is dangerous to you, like we are dangerous to people.  And you are blind to her as people are blind to us.”

“I know things about her you don’t understand.  She is ancient, older than even she knows.  But beneath all those hundreds of years lies a person, a woman, and she can be trusted.  I believe she is worthy of our trust.”

“How do you know she is a woman?  Is a mask.  She can change shape.  She is not human.  I smell her.  I see her aura.  She is something else.  A fallen angel?  Is très mal.  I have not lived a hundred years by being stupid.  She is dangerous.”

“Okay, even if you’re right, it doesn’t change anything.  I am bound to her.  We have to find a way to make the best of it.”

Urvashi entered Aaron and Michelle’s hotel suite with divinely impeccable timing.

Michelle snarled, “Quand on parle du loup!”  Speak of the devil.

Urvashi held her hands in the air with an exultant grin.  “And here I am.”

“Ladies, can’t we just get along?”  One of these days he’d have a wicked catfight on his hands.  And it’d be ugly.  Inevitable.

“Of course.  I just came to make sure you two were ready for our next big adventure.”  Urvashi’s static powered fingertips traced his shoulder.  “I hope you appreciate how much trouble you have been.  Beyond her.”  Urvashi pointed towards Michelle, as if it was so horrible to tolerate her presence.  Aaron’s autonomy with Michelle had been granted by Urvashi, begrudgingly, at his steadfast insistence.

The severity of his master’s eyes spoke to serious business.  “I called in favors on this one.  Albanians are not easy to deal with.  But I happen to know people who spent some time in Kosovo.  They have dealt with the KLA and the mafia families before.”

“Friends in low places?”

“Unfortunately, yes.  We meet them tomorrow night.  Bring the katanas.”

“What good are swords against guns?”

“Just bring them.”

* * * *

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