Page 38 of Angel's Flight

“Accosted your grandmother,” Christine finished for him, much to his surprise.“They were waiting, watching and studying us.”

Erik sighed.“Finding us in Florence was all part of a scheme that I walked straight into.Bidaut accosted me and...”

Christine looked at him gently as Erik paused, the fear he had held back in those moments finally hitting him and gripping his heart.“Erik, what happened?”

“He informed me that he knew where you were – exactly – and that he had an accomplice who was ready to kill you or at least harm you horribly if I didn’t comply with him.”Erik gave a bitter laugh.“Once again, it was all about the bloody money.The inheritance.He wanted me to sign it over to whoever was employing him.”

Christine’s eyes widened, and Erik could practically see the progression of thoughts through her mind as she imagined their life and plans (pathetic as they were currently) crumbling in her hand.“Did you do as he asked?”

“Not entirely,” Erik replied, shame spiking in him again.How had he ever considered it?“I dragged one of Tissot’s clerks out of bed and forced him to help me move the funds before Bidaut could have me sign them over.We only just barely made it, and only because our adversary didn’t think I would ask for help.”

“Hauling a poor man from his bed to perform some arcane accounting for you is hardly asking for help,” Christine chided.

“How much money is this all about?”Howard asked lightly.

“Enough that I don’t feel entirely secure telling you the number,” Erik muttered back before returning his attention to Christine.“The money is safe, but Bidaut will find out eventually that he was tricked.So I—”

Erik wanted to crawl out of his skin remembering the violence he had done.He had promised her that was behind him, and he could see in her eyes already that she knew he had betrayed that vow.

Christine glanced at the men beside him, her face grim.“Is he alive?”she asked in Swedish, for it was not the sort of thing one said in polite company.

“Yes,” Erik replied in the same tongue.“Hurt enough to slow down.”

Christine looked at him with a mix of emotion Erik couldn’t read, though it didn’t stop his shame from winding up from his gut like a living thing to choke him and whisper in his ear that it was all over.It had all been for nothing, and now Christine would see the mistake she had made.

“Pauline was outside waiting for me this morning and accosted us,” Christine said instead, stepping back and gesturing to Howard and Jack.Erik didn’t like the new space between them, but he deserved it.“She knew Jack’s name and yours.She followed him here.”

“I’m sorry, my friend,” Jack added.“I didn’t know that this was all so dramatic.”

“How could you have?”Erik shook his head, focus still on Christine.“So you took her captive in Jack’s cellar?”

“We questioned her in the kitchen,” Christine countered.“It went poorly.She knows all sorts of things about us.We couldn’t go to the police, so we just kept her here.”

“And you want me to find out what’s behind all of this?”Erik asked grimly.He felt the ghost of heat on his palm; the memory of gripping Bidaut’s neck, like he had so many others.

“No,” Christine said, firm and calm.“If anyone gets to hurt her, it will be me, but I don’t think that will get us much of anywhere.”

“What you need to do is get somewhere safe, where they can’t follow,” Jack said.

“How to do that has been the subject of debate for much of the day,” Howard added, with a wry smile that made Erik entirely too suspicious.“Now we have a plan.”

“You will need to trust me,” Christine said softly.

“I trust you more than anyone,” Erik replied.“Myself most of all.”

Paris

Shaya crumpled thepaper and threw it into the fire.It was stupid to try to write to Erik again, especially with only the barest of conjecture.He had to confirm his suspicions before he made more trouble.Anyway, there was no knowing if the letter could even reach Erik or where the man was.

“Your tea is cold,” Darius chided as he came to stand over Shaya’s desk.“Shall I make you more?”

“I can make it myself.”

“Can you?In twenty years, I think I’ve seen you boil water three times,” Darius teased.“I don’t think you even know where the tea is.”

“I know my own kitchen,” Shaya scoffed, and Darius raised an eyebrow.

“Your pension may pay for it, but it’s my kitchen, and I will make the tea.”

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