The Fate of the Muse

chapter TWENTYTHREE

CONSPIRACY





I struggled to breathe, and to beat back the panic. I was half dragged, half carried, down the stairs and thrown into the back seat of a car, forced to kneel with my head pushed down.

“Cruz! Cruz?” I screamed, with no response.

“Shut up,” a man’s menacing voice growled in my ear, “Or we’ll hurt the boy.”

Something in his tone made me believe him, and I went silent, swaying back and forth as the car sped away. I could feel every bump in the road through my knees on the floor, my mind racing as I tried to calm my ragged breath. I was going to need my wits about me this time. If Olivia was really behind this, she wouldn’t make the same mistakes that Peter had.

Why were they doing this? They had managed to trick me into doing something for them once. Olivia would know better than anyone that they couldn’t force me to use my muse powers again. Fool me once, shame on you, I thought; their tricks would never work on me a second time.

I should have thought to call Boris sooner, or stayed away from the studio. They must have been watching me for a while. And Cruz… poor Cruz! I had to find a way to make them let him go. If they wanted something from me I could at least negotiate for his freedom.

My hands were cuffed behind my back, and I felt for my ring, relieved to find that it was still on. It was a symbol of Ethan’s love; I twirled the stone around to cup it in my hand protectively. Thinking about him brought tears to my eyes, and I blinked them back with gritted teeth. This was no time for fear, sorrow or self-pity. Now was the time for cold blooded, clear headed thinking.

When the car came to a stop I could hear muffled voices, and I strained to listen. I was pulled to my feet and made to walk a short distance, my arms taken on either side. When we came to a sudden stop I felt an elevator’s lurch, and I was pretty sure I knew where I was. The hood was pulled from my head, and I stood blinking, taking a deep breath of cool air with relief.

There was a squat man with beady eyes on my left side, his fingers digging into my upper arm. A tall, lean man had control of my right side. His eyes glinted cold and cruel from a pockmarked face, and narrowed when they met mine. Both men were very different from the two guards I’d dealt with before.

They did not fear me in the slightest.

“Where’s Cruz?” I asked, my voice rough.

“Shut up,” the shorter one said.

The elevator door opened to reveal a familiar wood paneled foyer. We entered into the enormous great room, splendidly decorated with large, modern paintings and opulent furniture. The last time I’d been in this room it had been fully dark outside, and I hadn’t been able to see out the large bank of windows on the ocean side of the house. I paused for a moment to look out at the spectacular view that stretched from the wooded cliffs below, down the coastline and out across the water. The ocean looked like freedom itself, and I recognized the point break that I’d surfed with Brad just a few hours ago.

I was jerked away from the window and forced through an arched entrance into the library, where I was led to a chair and pushed to sit down. My wrists were taken, and I could hear a ratcheting sound as the handcuffs were removed from my left hand, my right wrist yanked away and attached to the arm of the chair. The first thing I noticed was the shining suit of medieval armor, and I looked on the other side of the mahogany mantel to see its mate. I sprang to my feet to face the door.

“Sit down,” the stocky man commanded, “Or I’ll sit you down.”

“He said sit,” the skinny one growled at me.

I paused, and when he made a move towards me I lowered myself down slowly. The chair faced an intricately inlaid table holding a jade box and a crystal ashtray. On the other side of the small table was a leather wingback chair, its arms terminating in carved raptor heads. The men at the door seemed to be waiting for someone, and every now and then I saw them looking over their shoulders in anticipation.

I could see into the trophy room through the arched entrance on the opposite side, with its medieval weapons and instruments of torture mounted on the wall in a gruesome display. Clearly Brad’s father was an obsessive collector; a man who liked his possessions. He was also a man drawn to the violent and grotesque.

I craned my neck to look around the huge library, and a magnificent one it was. It was filled with treasures, and lined with bookcases stretching from the Persian carpeted floor to the vaulted ceiling. Bronze busts of great historical figures populated the shelves, interspersed with thousands of uniformly displayed leather bound books, gold leaf gleaming on their spines. It was altogether too perfect– a sterile showpiece; a collection, and not a room that bespoke any great love of books or knowledge.

My eyes were drawn up to the ceiling, and I was surprised to find it as elaborately painted as the Sistine chapel, teeming with images of a beautiful youth surrounded by dancing girls.

“It’s Apollo and the muses,” a woman’s voice rang out. I turned to see Barbara Watson had entered the room. Gone was the modest business attire; now she was outfitted in a low-cut red dress, swinging a mink purse by a gold chain. Her hair was expensively highlighted, styled and sprayed into place like a helmet. She stood looking up at the ceiling while I looked up at her in shock. She was completely transformed from the humble “green” candidate that had spoken at the rally.

“My brother is very proud of this piece. He had some of the world’s finest fresco painters brought in from Italy.” She pointed to it like a docent at an art museum, “There, and there, are the two springs of Mount Helicon, sacred to the muses, and said to have been formed by the hooves of Pegasus.”

I stood abruptly, wincing with pain as the handcuff bit into my wrist, “Where’s Cruz? What have you done with him? I won’t co-operate unless you let him go.”

She smiled without warmth, the very picture of frozen insincerity. She sauntered around the library table and took a seat in the big chair. She motioned for me to sit, “The way I see it, you’re in no position to bargain.”

I sank back down, rubbing my wrist, “Let me see him.”

“You’ll discover that there will be no escaping our custody this time. The sooner you settle in and accept that fact, the better it will be for everyone concerned.”

She leaned forward in her chair, reaching for the jade box on the table and extracting a black cigarette with a gold foil tip. She rummaged in her furry purse to produce a golden lighter and lit it, inhaling deeply with satisfaction. She leaned back in the chair to exhale two thin streams of smoke out of her nostrils, reminding me of a dragon.

“Black Russians,” she said, admiring the cigarette in her hand.

“I don’t suppose they’re sustainable and organic,” I said sarcastically.

She smiled cooly, “I know it’s a loathsome habit, but I must allow myself at least one vice… mustn’t I?”

“I’m sure you have many more than one,” I told her.

She nodded with amusement, “I suppose you’re right, my dear. And what might your weakness be?”

I looked at her coldly, “Just coffee.”

“We’ll be sure to stock up,” she smiled.

“You can’t keep me chained up forever,” I rattled my handcuffs, “What do you want from me?”

“All in good time,” she said, taking another drag luxuriantly. “We need to get you moved to your new accommodations. They’re being finished as we speak, but we’re a bit behind schedule. We never expected to have our hand forced so soon… It’s really hard to believe that fate has led you right to us again.”

“You mean Brad?”

At the mention of her nephew she grew irritable, “I’m really terribly inconvenienced by this whole business. I had no intention of having any further dealings with you.” She sucked in a lungful of smoke, “Bradley,” she said sourly as she exhaled, “has always been a great disappointment to our family.”

“I don’t know about that,” I looked at her coldly, “He managed to orchestrate the meeting between you and me.”

She laughed, “Oh, believe me, he was just along for the ride. We thought that if I approached you in a neutral setting it wouldn’t arouse your suspicion. Bradley’s presence just made my story more plausible– and he really was drawn to your paintings!”

I remembered how I’d come to meet her at the art gallery, and how lucky I thought we were. I squeezed my eyes shut, realizing how gullible I’d been. Even at the time, I’d realized her appearance was too good to be true, and I was aware of the scripted nature of her platitudes. I had foolishly suspended my own disbelief, wanting to believe in her for Ethan’s sake.

She went on proudly, “It was a little experiment we devised to determine exactly how powerful you were. It was a classic two birds with one stone scenario– We got control of the district we wanted, and we put you to the test to as well!”

She looked so smugly satisfied I wanted to slap her overly made-up face.

“You had a man murdered simply to test me?” I said with revulsion.

“Now, now, Congressman Hill was slated to go long before we came up with the plan to have you put me in his seat. He did us many favors until he got greedy. He actually thought he could blackmail my brother.” She laughed, shaking her head, as if the very thought of such audacity was somehow amusing.

“Honor amongst thieves,” I said.

“I wouldn’t pity the man if I were you. He was more than willing to turn your boyfriend’s land into a golf course for a few dollars.”

My stomach twisted at her mention of Ethan, “If Brad wasn’t supposed to bring me here, how are you going to explain Cruz going missing?”

“Bradley has been told not to bring his little friends to this house,” she said with revulsion. “Particularly when his father is away. Security has instructed him to leave the premises.”

“What exactly do you want with us?” I asked angrily.

“Oh, my brother and I are fully aware of your rare gifts. We know that you’ve transformed into a mermaid, and that it seems to have given you the ability to speak with them. We have you recorded communicating with them… and yet… we still don’t know how you found out we were holding the other one. Perhaps you can enlighten me.”

I realized that the only thing they didn’t know about was mermaid telepathy. I shrugged, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She glanced at her watch, “We have all the time in the world to find out.”

“Surely your brother must realize that I can’t be forced to help you. Even if you keep me forever! I can never want you to succeed,” I paused for a moment, “Olivia would know that better than anyone.”

She blanched, and snubbed out her cigarette, standing abruptly. She reached into her purse and retrieved a phone, pacing by the fireplace as she placed a call. She looked really shaken, and her eyes kept darting back towards me.

“She knows about you,” she spoke in a in a fearful tone, “I have no idea… Of course not! You know you can trust us! It must have been Peter. Yes… we’ll be moving her there within the hour, and we’ll take care of the boy… He said he could be back in town by tomorrow.”

She came back to take her seat, watching me with narrowed eyes. She put the phone back in her purse and took a deep breath. Matching up the tips of her fingers, she patted them together while she thought, finally asking, “How do you know about Olivia?”

I ignored her question, wondering if I should have tipped my hand, “Tell me what you want from me.”

She lit another cigarette, blowing the smoke straight at me in a hostile gesture, “We want the child back. She’s rightfully ours.”

Now my stomach really sank, “What child?”

“Let’s not play games with one another. We know about Nixie and we want her back.”

My mind raced, and I struggled to keep a calm face. The only person I’d told about Nixie was Evie, in our hotel room in Paris. Now I realized that the room really had been bugged, just as I had been warned by Marissa. I was struck by a sudden rush of fear.

“What do you want with her? She’s just a baby…” My voice caught in my throat as I remembered Peter’s insane plans to raise an army of muses.

She smiled excitedly, “Having your own personal muse is a definite plus, but we have other plans for her. She is far more valuable to us in her present form.”

I just stared at her in shock, afraid to even ask.

“My brother believes she holds the key to immortality in her blood.”

“What?” I gasped. This kept getting more and more horrific. All I could think about was the condition I’d found Nerissa in, and my stomach started trembling with fear and rage.

“It’s really very exciting! We have a research facility prepared, and a team of top geneticists on standby… Your father is a scientist– surely you can’t be opposed to scientific exploration.”

I felt sick, “She’s not a science experiment.”

“My brother is her biological father,” she added, “So you see,” she went on arrogantly, oblivious to my agitation, “We’re her family, and her rightful guardians. We need your help to retrieve her, and serve as an interpreter…We were planning to have you brought in regardless of what happened with the election.”

“You are not her family,” I rasped.

She just smiled, continuing, “We have a pretty good idea of her territory, but unfortunately, Bradley’s… interference forced us to come for you a little early.”

“I will… never… help you find her,” I choked out vehemently.

“I think you will,” she replied, “And now that you’ve confirmed that they can survive the breeding process, we have plans to grow even more of them in captivity. Whether you like it or not, you’ve given us some insight into exactly how to hunt them.”

Just then, a third man appeared in the doorway, and Barbara waved him in.

“We’ve got their car,” He announced, and I looked up to see the man who’d followed me all the way from Paris to Aptos.

“Excellent,” she said, addressing him but staring meaningfully at me, “I want you to take the boy out for a drive tonight. Make sure that the car burns completely.”

“NO!” I sprang to my feet, yanked back by the handcuff that tore into my wrist again.

She addressed me without pity, shrugging, “Collateral damage. I’m afraid his fate was sealed the moment Bradley brought the two of you to this house. I have no choice but to eliminate him… but don’t fret, we’ll be merciful. He’ll be drugged, and he won’t feel a thing.”

“IF YOU HURT HIM I’LL KILL YOU!” I screamed at her.

“Idle threats,” she smiled, “Are pointless. You’ll eventually see that we’re serious, and then you’ll choose to work with us because we’ll make you.”

“I’ll die first,” I said, and I meant it.

“Calm yourself,” her voice was softly vicious, “What about your boyfriend? Or your aunt? We can easily get to them… and we will if you choose to make us.”

I slumped back in the chair, overcome with despair. I looked to the guards, but their faces were hard, and their blank stares were as cold and emotionless as the eyes of fish.

“Don’t bother,” she said, following my gaze. “I’m afraid your charms won’t work on them. Our new guards were specially selected by Olivia herself– completely immune to your powers. The only thing that motivates them is money, and they’re being paid handsomely for their loyalty.”

The phone in her purse rang, and she reached for it deliberately, “Yes? Excellent… you can expect us shortly.” She set the phone down and motioned to the tall guard leaning in the doorway. He produced a syringe and advanced on me menacingly. I scrambled up again, dragging the heavy chair a few feet in a futile attempt to escape my fate. The other guard came to his assistance, holding my unchained arm immobile for the injection.

“Nooo!” I cried, as the needle pierced my vein.

Barbara sat in her chair, watching impassively as she puffed away on her black cigarette.

They let me go, and I stood tottering, trying to blink back the fuzzy blackness that was creeping into my peripheral vision. My knees buckled, and I turned my head to see the room was filled with shimmering pulses of energy. I groped for the chair and sat spinning, a soft humming sound in my head.

I blinked, opening my eyes to see Stella standing before me, “Don’t worry Dollface, it’s going to be alright.” She winked at me and split into two images, wavering before my eyes. I blinked again and she was gone.

“You may remove the handcuffs now,” Barbara said in a voice that seemed to come from a long way off. I watched numbly as I was unhooked, willing myself to run, but only managing to make my knee twitch.

And then all hell broke loose.

I sat with my head rolling back, watching as an enormous figure dispatched the guards one by one until the three of them lie in crumpled heaps on the floor. Boris? The humming in my ears grew stronger, and I felt as though a heavy weight were being pressed down on me.

I could see Barbara come around the desk, hurling the heavy crystal ashtray at the gigantic intruder, missing him, and sending a shower of glowing sparks raining down on the carpet. She seemed to be moving in slow motion, leaving vibrating trails of color behind her. I was rendered completely immobile, and all I could do was watch as she reached into her purse, pulled out a gun and waved it around in a panic.

Two loud popping sounds cut through the buzzing in my ears, and then I could no longer hold my head up, feeling my chin hit my chest as I slumped forward in the chair. The blackness clouded my vision, and the very last thing I saw before my eyes closed was Congresswoman Barbara Watson, sprawled akimbo across the floor at my feet.

I could smell acrid smoke, and feel my body being lifted and gently cradled. A soft voice crooned to me in an unfamiliar language, and I could feel something stroking my face. I was floating, drifting in and out of consciousness, when a fresh blast of cool sea air hit my face. I fought a losing battle to keep my drooping eyelids open, and one last strange thought crossed my mind before I succumbed.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.