Keeper of the Shadows

chapter 10



The elevator doors opened on the sixteenth floor, and Barrie stepped out into a waiting room worthy of a museum. She took great pleasure in L.A.’s architecture: the surreal silver curves of the Disney Concert Hall; the Streamline Moderne of LACMA, the County Museum of Art; the oh-so-noir geometric patterned staircases of the Bradbury Building.

But the lobby of the Circle Foundation was one of the best examples of modern design she’d ever seen.

Money, she thought, dazed. So much money here. It didn’t just rival GAA’s offices, it surpassed them—in artistry, anyway.

Across the vast space of the lobby, a sleek receptionist with a haircut as modern as the decor sat at an island of a—desk? counter?—speaking into her Bluetooth.

Barry moved slowly forward into the space.

There were two huge, clear glass panels standing in the light of a domed skylight, etched with names and looking vaguely like the tablets of the Ten Commandments. One side held the names of donors to the Circle Foundation, the other a list of endowed charities and causes. She recognized the names of quite a few of the organizations: homeless shelters, scholarship foundations, intervention centers for at-risk youth. And they all had something in common: they quietly catered to the needs of Others.

Her eyes stopped on one familiar name, and she froze.

Out of the Shadows.

The shelter where Tiger had been living briefly before he went back on the street.

“May I help you?” the receptionist asked from her island. The acoustics of the room were so good it sounded as if she were standing right beside Barrie.

Barrie turned to her, startled, and walked forward, improvising. “Oh, hello. I’m affiliated with Out of the Shadows,” she said smoothly. “I was in the building, and I’ve heard so much about the Circle’s offices. I just thought I’d pop in and take a look.” She faked an appreciative glance around the lobby. “Just as beautiful as everyone says.”

The receptionist gave her a practiced smile. “Yes, it’s a wonderful place to work.”

“I’m sure,” Barrie smiled back. “And I had no idea how many other organizations Circle is funding! Mr. Stuart is so modest about it all. Is he fairly new as CEO?”

“Not at all, he founded the company,” the receptionist answered, and then apologized as she reached to answer the phone.

Barrie glanced up at the glass monument in front of her, at the date etched in the clear surface.

Established 2005.

As the receptionist spoke into the phone, two men in suits came out through the glass doors leading into the inner offices.

As the doors began to close behind them, Barrie moved quickly toward them and darted through.

She heard the receptionist’s voice calling behind her, but she strode grimly along the inner hall, straight down toward what was clearly the corner office.

Another sleekly gorgeous secretary rose from her desk as Barrie barreled forward.

“I’m sorry, did you have an appointment with Mr. Stuart?”

“Yes,” Barrie said through clenched teeth, and pushed through the door.

* * *

Mick sat behind a massive desk, talking into his Bluetooth as he leaned back in an ergonomic chair, looking out on his sweeping view of Santa Monica and the ocean beyond.

He caught one glimpse of Barrie and his feet hit the floor. “Call you back,” he snapped into his headpiece, and threw it on the desk as he stood, facing her.

“Mick Townsend? Michael Stuart? J. Paul Getty? Who the hell are you?” she demanded.

“Barrie, look, sit down, let’s talk—”

“Not until I know who I’m talking to. And I mean the truth. Except, oh, right, you’re incapable of telling the truth.” She was aware that she was ranting but she couldn’t help herself. She was furious.

“Barrie—”

She sidestepped him, not letting him come near her. “Everything about you is a lie.”

“Come on, now, be fair. Do you tell everyone you’re a Keeper?”

The question stopped her dead.

“Our lives are secret, they have to be,” he said reasonably.

But you were keeping it from me, she thought, and was immediately uncomfortable with her assumption that he should tell her everything, because...

Because of what’s happening between us.

“I wanted to tell you,” he said, as if hearing her unspoken thought. “I was going to tell you—”

“When?” she demanded.

“Tonight,” he said immediately. “Why do you think I wanted to see you? Everything’s been happening so fast....”

What is he talking about? she wondered, and then he continued, and she knew.

“I was suddenly so deep with you and I didn’t know how to go back to the beginning.”

She felt warm all over.

No. Don’t get sucked into this. He has some major explaining to do.

She turned in a circle, spreading her arms to indicate the enormous office.

“What the hell are you doing pretending to be a journalist?”

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that made her want to twine her own hands into his hair again. Stop it.

“Pretty much the same as you,” he answered. “Keeping an eye on Others. There’s no better place than a newspaper to get a sense of what’s going on out there, on the street level. The owner of the Courier is a friend, and I went in last month to establish an identity that I could use to get access to certain situations...criminal investigations. It was only supposed to be temporary, just long enough that I could throw the right names around in a pinch, but...”

“But what?” she demanded.

“But then I met you.” He looked at her. “And the plan changed.”

I don’t believe you, she thought, but only because she wanted to believe him so badly.

Don’t cave, she ordered herself. Make him tell you what’s really going on.

She was a little breathless as she demanded, “So, essentially you’ve set yourself up to be some kind of—of undercover watchdog of the Otherworld.”

“If you want to call it that,” he said, not contradicting her.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, that’s the Keepers’ job.”

Some kind of understanding flickered on his face. “I know that. And I have the highest respect for what you Keepers do. I think you and your cousins have been doing a miraculous job since you stepped in. But, Barrie, you know the system in L.A. is broken. It’s a mess. The infighting and secrecy are making any regulation all but impossible. It’s not just frustrating, it’s dangerous. You above anyone should know that unprecedented crimes are taking place in the Otherworld.”

That brought her up short. It was disturbing, beyond the norm, that in the few short months that she and her cousins had been Keepers, Rhiannon and Sailor had been embroiled in solving vicious serial murders. It did seem like something larger was bubbling up from somewhere dark and unfathomable....

Mick was watching her face. “Sooner or later—and I think sooner—something is going to blow up, and it could rip the lid off the Otherworld. You know what I’m talking about.”

She did; he meant the Shattering. A full disclosure of the existence of the Otherworld.

She tried to slow her racing thoughts, groped for journalistic detachment. What she needed right now were answers, not emotions.

“So...just back up. What is all this?” She indicated the offices. “What is it you do here? Exactly?”

“We fund organizations and charities that have a specific focus on helping Others. Microloans for Others in poverty who are trying to start their own businesses. Shelters like Out of the Shadows that help get young Others off the streets.”

As he continued the list, detailing the work of the various organizations, Barrie was struggling with herself. There was no way she could fault the work that he was doing. It was almost the opposite; he was practically a saint.

On the other hand, he was essentially going rogue, leaping over the long-established systems for keeping the peace and becoming his own fixer. As right as he was that the system was—well, that it needed fixing—she hated to hear it.

And he’d lied to her. Repeatedly. So, what guarantee did she have that the whole saint act wasn’t some front for...something?

He must have sensed she was wavering, because he jumped in. “Barrie, why do you think I want to work with you? We want the same things. While the L.A. Keepers are fighting bureaucratic turf wars, Others like Tiger are slipping through the cracks. It doesn’t have to be that way. I know how committed you are to protecting Others who need help finding their way. That’s what I want, too.”

He was so passionate and, all right, so gorgeous, that she found herself melting. And he must have sensed that, too, because he moved in closer, and the force between them was magnetic; she could barely stand. As he leaned in toward her, she summoned just enough strength to put a hand on his chest and push him away. She felt her blood rushing and realized she hadn’t felt so giddy since she was a teenager. She didn’t know if that was good or disastrous.

“I...need to think.”

“Okay.” He sounded breathless himself. He walked in a circle, as if trying to compose himself, and then said, “Okay. But I’m still picking you up at seven.”

“Picking me up?” she repeated, feeling a fresh surge of outrage coming on. “Oh, no. Tonight is definitely off.”

“Even if I said I have tickets for DJ’s premiere?” he said with a gleam in his eye that almost made her lose her professionalism and grab him. “That was what you were hoping for, wasn’t it?”

“You can get in?” She felt light-headed.

He shrugged. “Connections.” He glanced at his online calendar. “Seven o’clock, and we can talk about everything then. It’s black tie, by the way.” And then he gave her a look that turned her insides molten. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Just business, she told herself.

Yeah, right.