Stealing Phoenix (30 page)

‘It will be absolutely his pleasure. And he’ll find you a school too—near him—so while he’s out studying
geo-whatsit
, as the subject henceforth shall be known, you can also have your own life.’

‘Hmm, sounds like a dream come true.’

‘Just sit back and watch me make it happen.’

But we had the little matter of the Savant Net he had betrayed and the meeting with the Seer’s criminal collaborators to deal with. ‘Yves …’

He put a finger to my lips. ‘Shh. Not now. Trust, remember?’

He was asking more from me than anyone ever had. I did not put my faith in another person easily. But this was Yves. I nodded and swallowed, trying for a bright smile. ‘OK, gorgeous, let’s go wow the crowds with our debonair air.’

He chuckled. ‘
Debonair
air? Ugh.’

‘Yeah well, I’m not at my most eloquent just at the moment.’

‘You know, I was thinking you should major in literature at college. How does that sound?’

‘Years to do nothing but read books? Sign me up.’

He hugged me to his side and took a breath. ‘Hold that thought. Let’s go face the music.’

I had expected to be marched straight into a business meeting or dinner much as I had last time I met the Seer’s international contacts, but the information Yves had passed them had put them in the mood to celebrate and we were to start the evening at a private jazz club in Soho. The delegation from the Community consisted of the Seer, Dragon, and Unicorn as well as Yves and me. Kasia was not visible but that didn’t mean she wasn’t lodged somewhere close by to monitor proceedings. All the top Savants would have their own communications expert—they’d be stupid not to and none of them struck me as being foolish.

Our taxi left us on the pavement in Frith Street facing the black doors and lit interior of The Knowledge. Once an eighteenth-century house, the inside had been completely ripped out and excavated into the cellars to provide a cavernous space for the musicians’ stage and audience seated around little tables. Only the row of sash windows on the first and second floor had been left to show its origins as a much older building. The crowds of fashionably dressed customers going in and out attested to the fact that it was one of London’s hotspots—and it was about to become a lot hotter with a delegation of the Savant world’s crime lords on the premises.

The Seer brushed an imaginary speck from his white lapel. ‘This is in your honour,’ he said with a fleeting grin at Yves.

‘I’m impressed.’ Yves scanned the busy street of thriving bars and venues. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to The Knowledge— any jazz fan has it on the top of their list when visiting London. How did you know I love music?’

The Seer began walking. ‘You’d be surprised what we’ve learned about you, Yves, over the years. You live quietly according to my American colleague, but not everything can be hidden from interested parties.’ He paused on the threshold. ‘But then you know that, because you’ve been watching us, haven’t you?’

Yves squeezed my hand. ‘I guess some have. Not me, though. I’ve been in high school for the last four years, studying hard. No time for spying.’

‘And very clever you are too, by all accounts.’ The Seer gestured impatiently for us to follow. ‘Having plenty of brawn at my disposal, I need more brains in my operation; you’ll be a welcome addition and I think you’ll find there is far more scope for your talents when not fettered by the Savant Net’s foolish taboos.’

Like morality and decency.

Behind his back, Unicorn and Dragon glared at me, but, really, it was hardly my fault if the Seer labelled them as nothing but useful muscle.

The plaintive strains of a saxophone drifted out from the auditorium. The Seer entered with us following like a cloak rippling at his heels. The room was full but the Savants had reserved the best spot, right in front of the stage. They were all there—each of the world’s crime syndicates represented as they had been in the hotel. Every table had a little candle in a red holder; in the dim lighting, the flames looked to me like demon eyes crouching at the rim of each table to peer malevolently at us. I had a sudden desire to turn tail and run—run for my life. Yves increased his grip, sensing my hesitation.

‘It’ll be OK,’ he whispered.

Our entry coincided with the last notes of ‘Cry Me a River’ and the audience broke into a scattering of applause. The Seer smiled, liking the coincidence that made it appear that they were greeting him. ‘Jim’ New York stood up and waved us over. I could see the other leading members of the group— Moscow, Beijing, Sydney and the rest—seated close at hand. This wasn’t going to be a time for a private discussion; we were here on show, proof that the Seer had tamed him a Benedict.

Jim shook hands with the Seer then clapped Yves on the shoulder. ‘Good to meet you. I’m New York. Read a lot about you, of course, but never thought to see this day.’ He caught sight of me in Yves’s shadow. ‘But then if I had a little lady like that to protect, I’d rethink my life plan too.’ He hooked my arm and pulled me into the circle of light by the table, acting as if we were old friends. ‘You look lovely, Miss London. Take a seat.’

There were only four chairs at the table, leaving Unicorn and Dragon to scramble for places as near as they could. A waiter arrived with a bottle of champagne and proceeded to pour us all a glass. While pretending to join in the toast, I left mine untouched. Yves kept my hand in his, hidden below the table top, providing much needed comfort as he chatted easily with Jim about the baseball season. Not required for anything but decoration, I examined the room we were in, spying out exit routes should we have to make a rapid departure. Only when I scoped out the nearest emergency door with its green-lit sign of a running man did I turn my attention to the musicians. My fingers gripped Yves’s convulsively. The saxophone player was a small blonde girl. The heavy eye make-up, black-rimmed glasses and the vampire-red lipstick did not hide her identity from one who had spent the last few days sharing her bedroom. Sky. Hope mixed with horror as I searched for Zed, guessing he would not have let his soulfinder walk into this situation alone. I finally identified him as the heavily bearded drummer in the flowery shirt and, yes, socks and sandals. I bit my tongue, repressing the absurd desire to laugh at his fashion sacrifice for our cause.

But what did this all mean? If they were here, then so were the other Benedicts. And they either had to know that Yves had betrayed them, or he had been playing false all along and gone against the Seer. I shut my eyes, head spinning. If that turned out to be the case, then I would be forced to hurt someone he loved. I just couldn’t … wouldn’t … unless … I realized that the Seer’s command had not forbidden me to turn his order on myself. Yves loved me—he’d said so only hours ago. I would do something to myself before I touched one of his family.

‘All right, my dear?’ The Seer feigned concern when he saw my pained expression but I could tell I was putting him on the alert by my response. I tried to master my reactions. I didn’t know for certain what had brought the Benedicts here. Yves had sworn he wouldn’t trip any of the triggers the Seer had set in my mind. They could have other sources of information that I didn’t know about. No need to go overboard on the strength of suspicion alone.

‘Um … yes, thank you. I was just thinking about the song. It always reminds me of my mother’s death.’

Overhearing my remark, Jim shook his head. ‘Oh, we can’t have that—no sad thoughts tonight. Let’s ask them to play something you like. What’ll it be?’

I thought quickly, dredging through the songs I knew to find a suitable one. ‘How about “I Put a Spell on You”?’ I’d heard it as background music in a café recently and the title had stuck as bizarrely appropriate to Savant powers.

Jim clicked his fingers and ordered the waiter to pass on his request. The musicians paused in their preparations for their next number and quickly conferred. Another message was sent backstage while the pianist—I didn’t recognize him—tinkled away with a medley of songs. From behind a curtain at the rear, a shapely older woman in a tight red dress and silk turban stepped up to the microphone to sing. I now wished I’d chosen something without words because it took me only a second to realize that Yves’s mum, Karla, had been thrust into the limelight by my selection. She was almost unrecognizable, thanks to tinted glasses and heavy diva costume jewellery. And, boy, could she sing! No one would suspect her of being planted there by Victor as she sounded like a professional—her voice deep and sultry.

I wasn’t sure if Yves had even realized he was surrounded by his family as his attention appeared to be fixed on our hosts. Surely he had to recognize his own mother’s voice? But if he did, he gave no sign.

‘Um …Yves …’ I whispered. I wanted him to pay attention to me so I could let my expression do the talking when I didn’t dare risk the words.

He gave me a brash smile, so different from his usual open expression. ‘Not now, honey.’

That was no answer. I still didn’t know if he knew. I subsided and listened in on their conversation for a few minutes. Jim was trying to lure Yves to his organization, talking in veiled terms about the drug-running operation he had established with other members of the loose confederacy of criminal-minded Savants. I could sense the Seer getting increasingly hot under the collar as he was sidelined.

‘London is a big market,’ he interrupted suddenly. ‘I have plans for Yves to help establish a route into the capital. His computer expertise will be invaluable in getting around Customs and Excise checks.’

Jim waved a dismissive hand. ‘Those fools? We’ve got talented carriers who can persuade their way past anyone with their powers.’

‘But how much more reliable to have a software system that clears any cargo under our name? If it comes up as already checked then you’ve no need of such tools.’ The Seer sipped his champagne and wrinkled his nose. ‘Bit dry for my taste.’ He signalled for another bottle to be brought to the table, specifying another vintage—a none-too-subtle sign that he was taking back command of our little party. ‘What do you think, Yves?’

Yves looked as if he would very much prefer not to be put on the spot. ‘Both ideas have merit,’ he replied diplomatically. ‘You can’t always rely on technology though. A government might take it into their head to do a spot check. And there are always the sniffer dogs to catch out a carrier.’

Jim gave a dark chuckle. ‘Damned dogs. Haven’t yet found someone who can persuade them to sniff the other way—mind powers only work on humans.’

The Seer’s eyes slid to me. ‘What about you, Phoenix: can you control animals?’ He turned back to Jim. ‘My girl here does this very clever thing where she can stop your brain for a few seconds.’

Jim raised his glass to me.

‘No reason why it shouldn’t work on dogs. What do you think?’

‘Er … I’ve never tried.’ I felt sickened—bad enough being a thief but now the Seer was plotting to use me as some kind of drugs mule. ‘I guess it will need some more thought. Excuse me. I’m just going to freshen up.’ If Yves wasn’t going to let me warn him, I would see if I could find out what was happening so I was prepared for whatever came next. He kept hold of my hand, reluctant to let me go, but I tugged free. ‘Won’t be long.’

I headed for the toilets, aware that Unicorn had got up from his table and was tailing me. I kept my eyes peeled for other Benedicts but, if they were undercover, I didn’t spot them. Giving Unicorn a sour smile, I entered the Ladies and stood gazing into the mirror for a full five minutes, hoping that either Sky or Karla would take the hint and come to let me in on what they were doing there. I also wanted a chance to plead Yves’s case—that was if he had betrayed them for my sake—and to find out what their plan was, because surely they had one, and they had had no opportunity to share it with us as we had been monitored ever since Yves joined the Community. With so many different parties in the dark about what the other side had in mind, we were liable to end up with one hell of a mess.

But no one came in.

Unicorn was still on watch when I emerged, patting my hair in place as if I had spent the time checking out my appearance, as he would expect from classic girl behaviour. With him standing, arms folded, in front of the toilets, it was no wonder I had been alone. I swallowed the remark I longed to make about creeps haunting the Ladies and walked swiftly back to my table. I noticed that Karla had retired, leaving the band playing some tunes I didn’t recognize, Sky back on sax, eyes locked on the drummer as she wove with the beat. I didn’t know how they could keep the music so loose and easy when everything was heading for disaster.