The Fire In My Eyes (48 page)

I let out a shaky breath. The brutes looked disappointed and sank back down, lighting new cigarettes. The door flew open and she appeared in the doorway, white shirt, blue jeans, bare feet in the middle of winter. “You're late,” she said.

“I am not, I'm early. It's only a little past noon,” I retorted.

“You're late because I wanted to see you three days ago!” Without warning, she flung herself off the steps, aiming directly at me. I felt a tickle of telekinetic energy cushion us as she pushed me down to the ground. Even cushioned, she still knocked the wind out of me. She sat on my stomach and thumped a hand on my chest. “You're now my prisoner. Note that in the log, Roy, if you're done practicing your thuggery.”

“Whatever, Sarah,” one of the brutes grumbled. “We were just having some fun with the kid. You know how boring it gets here.”

Clearly, the brutes weren't quite as brutish as I had thought. “This is just an excuse to get me in handcuffs or something, isn't it?” I asked.

“I'm not that kinky, Kevin,” she said, then leaned down and kissed my cheek. “But I am glad to see you made here. I was worried about you. Bureau activity's on the rise. I think it's a good thing you left when you did.”

I shuddered. I agreed with her, but not just for that reason. “Can we go inside? It's cold out here.”

“You can only go inside when I say you can,” she declared. “And you can only go inside once you've promised me your undying love and affection.”

“I have a question.” She cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. “Are you ticklish?”

She gasped and jumped off me. I sat up before she could think better of it. “You fight dirty,” she accused me.

“I'm noting that for the future,” I said. “And you owe me for what you did in Troy.”

Her smile faded for a moment, and then she hugged her arms around herself. “It is cold out here. Come on in. Roy, Paul, no other visitors today. Thanks for watching for him.”

“No problem, Sarah.” One of them grabbed both of my suitcases in one fist and carried them inside while the other held the door open. Star walked past him, head held high, and I followed her. The brute leered at me as I went, then closed the door behind us. We walked up a flight of stairs to one of the rooms on the second floor, the door there already hanging open. The other brute was standing in the hallway, and whispered something to Star as we squeezed past. She smiled and nodded to him, then led the way into her apartment.

Her apartment was spartan, shockingly empty. She did have a couch, a ratty thing that looked as if she had pulled it out of a dumpster. My suitcases were set neatly next to it. A television that had clearly seen better days sat on a wooden chair. The carpet was cut up and ragged in several places. It was still nicer than some of the dorm rooms I had been in.

“Sorry about how terrible it looks,” she said. “The rent's cheap and that's all I care about. I don't spend a lot of time here.”

“You're talking to a guy who lives nine months out of the year in a dorm,” I said. “Trust me, it's not a big deal.”

She took my hand and led me through the apartment. The kitchen was tiny and the refrigerator was bare, the bathroom was cramped enough that we couldn't both fit in it at once without someone standing in the tub, and her bedroom had clothes strewn all over the floor. She walked around, scooping them up and piling them on the other side of the bed, out of sight. “I'm not a neat freak,” she said, then looked over her shoulder at me. “But I'm only this messy when I'm living by myself. Does it bother you?”

“Not really,” I said. She smiled at me. “We do keep it clean in the dorm, just because it would get completely out of control if we didn't. None of wants to be the slob.”

“Are you calling me a slob?” She laughed. “Let me take your coat.”

I unzipped the coat, and she stepped around behind me to help pull it off. Her fingertips brushed my back and I shivered. She tossed my coat on the bed, then hugged me from behind. “Hey. Star?”

“Sorry,” she said against my back. “The holidays really do make me lonely. I wasn't kidding about that. It's been a while since I've been around other people.”

“What about your friends from Washington?”

Her arms tightened. “Ruth's in the hospital. Don't know what happened to Beth. The Bureau caught them both.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault. They knew the risks.” She squeezed again, then let go. I heard her sniff, then clear her throat. “So, let's talk about sleeping arrangements. Do you want the right side of the bed, or the left?”

“Neither. I'm going to be on the couch.”

“It's not very comfortable,” she said, walking around to face me. Her eyes were clearer than I expected. “You're not going to enjoy it. Even if you want to sleep head to toe, it'd be more comfortable than that old thing.”

“You're just looking for an excuse to have me lick your feet,” I said.

She snorted. “As if I need an excuse for that. You're staying here for a week with me, maybe that's the price I'll set on accommodations. What do you think?”

“I think you're dreaming.”

“Shit, Kevin, if I'm dreaming, I hope I'm not about to wake up.” She poked me in the chest and drove me out of her room. “If you're going to insist on being a gentleman, let me at least get you a blanket. It gets freezing in the living room at night. That's another reason I want you in my bed. We can keep each other warm.”

“One track mind,” I said.

“Two tracks, this time,” she said, walking over to a closet. “I am looking out for your comfort, you know.”

“Star,” I said as she opened the closet. “Who are you?”

“Who am I?” She pulled a blanket down from an upper shelf. “I'm Star. Sarah's my given name.”

“No, not like that. Who are you? Your organization. What do you want from me?”

She folded the blanket over her arm, but didn't turn around. “Shit, Kevin, you haven't even been here ten minutes, and you're already asking questions. Forgive me for brushing you off, but I don't want to talk business yet. Can we relax a little first? Enjoy the day?”

“You owe me something for that little trick up at Ripley,” I said.

“What, finding out that I'm ticklish isn't a fair trade?” I didn't say anything and she swore under her breath. “Fine. Resistance.”

Was that the name of her organization? “What are you resisting?” I asked.

She sighed and turned to face me. Her eyes flickered blue, but I couldn't tell what she was doing. “Resistance to oppression. Everyone has an ulterior motive, Kevin. The Bureau, the Illuminati, the Order, your Establishment. Everyone wants something.”

“Like what?” I asked.

She sat down on the couch and motioned for me to join her. I sat down on the other side and she immediately slid over and threw the blanket across my lap as well as hers. “Like using their powers to control normal people. You have no idea. Control of centers of power. The Bureau controls Washington. Influence and political power. Your Establishment controls this city. Financial power. The Illuminati control chunks of Europe. Historical power and influence. The Kaze own Japan. Economic and technological power. The list goes on and on.”

“And? What's so bad about that?” Her head snapped around and I held my hands up. “Devil's advocate. Are they doing it for the right reasons?”

“No,” she said. “Power for the sake of power isn't right. Some of them think they're doing the right thing. Leading the rest of humanity, like normal people are savages or slaves. I don't like that. I don't agree with that.”

“So you fight them?”

She nodded. “We try to keep them off balance, throw some wrenches into their plans. That's what we were doing down in DC. They had a few key legislators convinced to strip some more freedom from the people. Expansion of the Patriot Act. Worse than ever. We were almost too late. It took a lot of effort to keep their people from subverting key senators.”

I nodded slowly. If the Bureau, or other organizations worked that way, they'd have more freedom to act openly. It wasn't a pretty picture. “So, what about me? And the Establishment? What are we up to?”

She laughed. “I couldn't tell you, even if we knew. But since we don't, I can tell you that. Your faction's a mystery. Not a big group. Not an especially well trained group. Their sole claim to legitimacy is holding this city, and even then, they allow everyone to mingle here. Even pariahs like me are relatively safe here. Maybe you can tell me why?” I shook my head and she laughed again. “I guess not. You couldn't tell me even if you wanted to.”

“I would tell you, if I knew,” I said. “All I know is that they want to keep the city neutral, and they'll go to great lengths to do so. They just had a big campaign down here because the gangs were getting support from the Bureau. It was a mess.”

She grabbed me by the shoulders and got right in my face. “Are you serious? That was the cause of all the disturbance?”

I nodded and pulled back a little. She was entirely too close. “That's what I was told.”

“Terrific. That's news to me. Thank you.” She leaned in and brushed her lips against mine, and then showed every sign of repeating it with more emphasis.

I gently pushed her away. “Star, I told you, I've got a girlfriend.”

“And I've told you, it doesn't matter to me.” She pulled away even as she said that, then laid her head on my shoulder. “No, I'm lying. It does matter to me.”

“It does?” I asked.

“Yes. It makes me angry. Jealous. Sorry.”

“Don't be sorry,” I said. “I'd rather know the truth.”

She sniffled and burrowed closer to me. “Shut up. Stop trying to make me feel better.”

For the rest of the week, she took me on a whirlwind tour of New York City. I had been to the city several times during spring break, but there were plenty of places I had never seen. We ate out almost every evening, walked around the city every day, and spent every night arguing over what to watch on television. By New Year's Eve, the situation was positively domestic. I walked into the kitchen, where she sat at her tiny little kitchen table with a cup of coffee. She didn't even look up from her newspaper as I entered, simply flicked a finger. The coffeepot drifted over and filled my waiting cup. I sat down across from her and the coffeepot floated back to where it had been. “Thanks,” I said.

She grunted and turned pages. One thing I had learned about her in the past week was that she was not a morning person. I added sugar to my coffee and browsed the newspaper sections that she had already discarded. Nothing too special. A lot of information about the New Year's celebration tonight. Times Square was probably already packed.

“Kevin?” I looked up. She was looking over her paper at me. “Did you want to go to Times Square?”

“It's on my list of things to do before I die,” I said. “But only if you're up for it. Did you want to go?”

She made a face. “Not especially. Crowds aren't my thing. Every time I get into a crowd like that, someone ends up making a pass, or tries to grope me. Not fun. It's a burden, being this pretty. I'll go if you want to, though.”

She was more than pretty, even before her morning shower. I wasn't about to admit that to her and risk boosting her ego even further. “Pass. Any other plans for the day, then?”

“Nothing comes to mind,” she said. “Lazy day. We slept late, too.”

“We did,” I agreed. Last night had been a late night, a marathon of movies that went well past midnight. She had fallen asleep on my shoulder and I hadn't wanted to wake her. After the final movie ended, I had picked her up and carried her to bed. It had taken a lot of willpower to keep from crawling in next to her. She wasn't Nikki. She never would be Nikki. But I could never see Nikki doing any of these things with me.

She yawned, folded the paper and stood up. “I'm going to shower,” she announced. “I will leave the door open in case you want to join me. Think about what you want to do today.”

We didn't end up doing much of anything. Wide swaths of the city were shut down for the impending celebration. After spending hours wandering the city, we stopped for dinner and then headed back to her apartment with two more movies. “We're like some old couple who never go out anywhere,” she complained as we walked in. “Movies last night. Movies tonight. Shouldn't we be going to a nice New Year's Eve party? Get all dressed up? Have lots of drinks, spend the time with friends?”

I shook my coat off and hung it up. “Unless you have any of your Resistance friends around, it's just you and me. I suppose you could call your two bruisers over. I'm not sure the four of us would fit, though.”

She shuddered. “They certainly do fill a room. Is it warm in here or is it just me?”

It was a little uncomfortable, but not terribly so. “It's been getting warmer all week. You've probably got the heat up too high.”

“You're probably right, but as soon as I turn it down, it'll get cold again. I'm going to go change into something lighter.” She stepped into her bedroom and I heard her dresser drawers opening and closing. I took the movies out and started the process of trying to get her DVD player to work properly. Just like everything else in her apartment, it was used and abused. It had taken me ten minutes of fiddling with the controls last time.

“I think I got it working the first time, this time,” I called over my shoulder.

She stuck her head and one bare shoulder out from her bedroom. “Great! Now I don't have to wait.”

“But you do have to hurry, or I'll start without you,” I said.

“Hey, if you really want me to come out there, wearing what I am right now, I'll be more than happy to do so.” I waved her off and she disappeared back into the bedroom with a laugh. Less than a minute later, she bounced out, wearing just a sheer white tank top and blue cutoffs. Her red curls were pulled back into a ponytail. “What are you staring at?” she asked.

I averted my eyes. “Damn, woman, it's winter, not summer.”

“Plenty warm in here.” She wasn't wearing anything under the tank top, I was sure of that. “You want something to drink? Coffee so we can stay up till midnight?”

“You might need it,” I said. “You're the one who fell asleep last night.”

She stuck her tongue out at me and bounced to the kitchen. I started the first movie, letting it get through the FBI warnings and credits. She came out with two steaming cups of coffee, passed one to me, and curled up on the couch. I joined her. Our taste in movies was different, but not radically enough that we fought over what to watch. As long as it had a little action, a little romance, a little humor, it was enough for either of us to tolerate.