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Authors: Francine Pascal

Shock (8 page)

BOOK: Shock
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Body

TATIANA WAS PLAYING INTRAMURAL
racquetball, and Ed wanted to catch her performance. Since their high school didn't have a court, Ed joined a throng of students at a nearby gym. It was a gym designed especially for the tragically hip, and it looked like a disco. It even had a name—Smash. He passed the aerobics studio on the way downstairs—or tried to, anyway. Suddenly Ed understood why racquetball was drawing such a healthy crowd, especially of male students. The aerobics studio had tall silver poles in it, and women in workout gear were climbing up and down them, writhing like oversexed snakes as club music pounded and purple lights flashed around the room. He eyeballed the sign: Strip-aerobics. Clearly the VS administration had neglected to check out the Smash class schedules.

“Nice,” he said.

“I love our school,” a redheaded freshman kid stated with complete conviction. “It's worth every penny my parents pay.”

“Come on, stud,” Ed said, clamping a hand on the kid's shoulder and walking him down the hallway toward the racquetball courts.

“Oh, man,” the kid groaned. “Just five more minutes?”

“I think you've seen enough to keep you going till your prom,” Ed told him. “Anyway, if you time it right, you can leave during hip-hop class.”

“I am so glad I didn't get into Stuyvesant.”

Downstairs, students stood on the benches and sat on the floor to get the best view of the glassed-in racquetball court. Inside, Tatiana was fighting her third opponent of the day. Her stamina was unbelievable. So was her muscular body. Ed didn't like to think of himself as someone who objectified women, but looking at Tatiana clad only in a tank top–sports bra and bike shorts, he had to give in to his inner red-blooded American male. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and even her eye-protection goggles looked hot. But really, the most amazing thing about her was the determination and focus she displayed on the court.

Spinning her racquet, glaring at the ball, and springing into action when her opponent slammed the little blue orb against one of the white walls, Tatiana was like a superhuman sportsbot, leaping around the cube-shaped room at a speed that made everything else look like slow motion. She managed to anticipate the angles the ball would travel along and a few times seemed to hit it without even looking toward it. Everyone broke into applause when she actually ran up the wall and flipped backward to make a shot. Nobody had a chance against Tatiana.

Ed was amazed. He'd known Tatiana had athletic ability, but he'd had no idea she was such a monster. Something about her seemed oddly familiar to him. She was so strong, powerful, focused, she was almost like…
Gaia! Ack!

Tatiana's got nothing to do with Gaia,
Ed told himself.
You just happen to like strong women—you're not attracted to Tatiana just because she reminds you of Gaia.

Wait a minute. Attracted?

Before he could question that little voice inside him about what, exactly, it meant by “attracted,” Tatiana won her last match and exited the court to more cheers and whistles. She was greeted by a gaggle of girlfriends and had to give a dozen high fives to admiring students. But the minute she pulled her goggles up on top of her head, her eyes searched out Ed. She came across the room to him, laughing and wiping the sweat off her face with a white towel.

“You won!” he told her.

“It looks that way. Would you like a hug?”

“Absolutely not!”

Tatiana gave a breathless laugh. “I am going to take a shower. After that, would you come and eat a giant mountain of pasta with me?”

“Sure, good plan,” Ed said. “And I've got your CDs.”

“How did I get so lucky? You are a good pal,” she told him before she vanished into the locker room.

I am a good pal,
Ed told himself.
A good pal. See? She's over that trying-to-kiss-you phase.
He was relieved to be out of the potential boyfriend slot. His feelings over Gaia were still too jumbled to add a new love interest to the mix. He wanted to just hang out, enjoy the attention, and fill the time he used to spend with Gaia.

Tatiana joined him in front of Smash in record time, freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a sweater. Ed watched as she inspected her cell phone for messages—then inspected a second one, too.

“What's with the two phones?” He laughed. “You need one for each ear or what?”

“Oh—one is my mom's,” she explained quickly. “We were shopping and she left it in my bag by accident, and I just can't help seeing who might be calling her. Aren't I a terrible daughter?”

The story tumbled out in a rush, almost as if she had thought it through carefully in case anyone asked. Ed thought that was kind of weird. But it didn't really warrant thinking about. Especially when she looked up and gave him a dazzling smile of the you're-the-only-person-on-earth variety. That pretty much wiped any question from his mind. Stuck on Gaia or not, he liked being in the company of this very pretty girl.

“Okay, how did you get ready so fast?” he asked. “It takes my sister half an hour just to brush her hair. And that's right after she's had it blow-dried at the salon.”

“I am magical,” she said, hooking an arm into his. “And I am also starving.”

“We can to go to Cucina in the East Village,” Ed told her. “They serve the food on platters the size of flatbed trucks. If you can finish what's on your plate, I'll be seriously impressed.”

“I think I will finish my food and yours,” Tatiana told him. “Now tell me, did you run into Gaia when you were at my apartment, or were you safe from her prickly words?”

“No, she showed up,” he said. “It was weird. She thinks something's going on between you and me.”
If Tatiana's really taken me out of the potential boyfriend slot, she'll think that's funny,
Ed thought.

“Oh. Really?” Tatiana asked, peering at the cracks in the sidewalk.

Oops. Damn. Time to clarify things, Fargo.

“Yeah. She was asking how close we are, and I was trying to tell her that we're just really good friends, so I pointed out the cannolis and the bobble-head dog you got me and she just, like, left.”

“She left?”

“Yeah. She looked at the bag and muttered something about Eleventh Street and Chinatown, and when I looked up, she'd left the room.”

Tatiana didn't say anything. Her arm was still hooked through Ed's, but her hand gripped his anxiously as her steps slowed and she stared off into space.

Ed felt a sinking feeling of déjà vu. Walking down the street with a girl who seemed completely occupied with a mysterious, secret question. For the second time that day Tatiana was acting like Gaia.

“Tatiana?” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “Oh! I am sorry, Ed. I just remembered something, but I can take care of it tomorrow.”

“Did you leave something at the gym? Want to go back?”

“No, it is nothing. I just realized that I might have been careless with some…I might have done something careless. But it is nothing I cannot put right.” She shot him a cheerful smile, erasing the Gaia scowl he thought he'd seen on her face.

“You're sure?” he asked, hoping she wouldn't excuse herself and leave.

“I am positive! In fact, I am thinking maybe we should have Indian food instead of Italian. Would you like that, Ed?”

“I could go either way,” he said. “As long as we're eating.”

“Oh, we are eating, my friend.” She giggled. “We are having an eating contest.”

They walked together through the city as the air thickened into night around them, scrolling through purple to black as they moved across town. By the time the sun was gone and their vegetable samosas hit the table, Ed was feeling fine. Tatiana was cheerful, funny, and carefree. She was nothing like Gaia. Nothing, nothing at all. Ed had found himself a Gaia-free zone, and that was just what he needed to stop missing her. Maybe even to get her out of his mind entirely. For now, anyway. Gaia-free for a night. That's what he needed to be.

Evil Ice

GAIA CLOSED THE DRAPES AS THE SKY
outside darkened into evening. During the day she couldn't be seen through the window, but since she had to turn on the lights, anyone peeking in would be able to plainly see her systematic inspection of every inch of the apartment. It wasn't likely that someone would do such a thing. But unlikely things were pretty much central to her life, and she wasn't about to take any chances.

She had dismantled and reassembled almost every room in the house, finally arriving at the bedroom she and Tatiana shared. So far she had found nothing but a lot of dust bunnies, three buttons, and $5.32 in change. Proof of nothing but some lax housekeeping. Hardly the kind of indictment she both dreaded and was searching for.

This room, though. Where could something be hidden here? After checking all the furniture for false bottoms and compartments, she moved to the walls, knocking on each bit of plaster to listen for a hollow sound, something that might indicate the presence of a safe.

There was nothing.

She inspected the floorboards next. Any looseness, any variation in color—all of it was suspect. Again her search turned up nothing. She gritted her teeth, frustrated. She refused to feel relieved. She sat with her back against the wall, glaring across the room at the old, nonworking fireplace. The hole in the middle of it seemed to stare back at her like a big, blank eye. A big, blank eye that went nowhere and…

Oh. Shit.

The fireplace.

Gaia sprang from her seat and inspected the marble structure. This was a standard feature of New York apartments—an ancient chimney that had been closed off when the building got steam heat. A lot of people kept the structure of the fireplace with a false front just because it looked nice. Some even went so far as to put a gas burner in there, with faux logs that glowed like a real fire. This one was just a piece of metal. A piece of heavy, decorated iron that moved with a deep, heavy sigh when Gaia pulled at it. She yanked it away from the wall and saw that a compartment had been built into the old chimney.

Well, that certainly went against city regulations.

So did the object in the hole.

A high-powered rifle. Sniper style.

Gaia sat back on her butt with a thump, staring at the firearm with heart-sinking resignation. She could hear the bullets flashing past her ears. Could feel their heat as they barely missed her head. She'd studied firearms technology. She'd even grabbed a shell casing from the Ukranian church. She pulled it out of her pocket now and held it next to the rifle, a nasty-looking bit of machinery that would probably feel more at home in a South American cartel than here on the Upper East Side.

Perfect match.

Without pausing to listen to the wailing in her heart, Gaia stood, replaced the metal, and gathered her essentials: some clothes and…well, that was it. She was used to traveling light. It all went into her messenger bag and she was out the door like a shot. She felt violated, disgusted, like she was crawling with mites. Like it had rained maggots on her. Like she'd been living in a pit of snakes. Beautiful, friendly snakes.

She had known that she couldn't trust Tatiana and Natasha, but she had done it, anyway.

She'd been off her guard for weeks, sharing a bedroom with a cold-blooded killer.

She had accused Sam of being the one after her—and now his injured expression was burned in her memory as that of a totally innocent bystander. Sam, who'd taken bullets and survived weeks and weeks of imprisonment without knowing why. And she'd turned on him.

She had left Ed, her buddy and her boyfriend, in the company of a rancid chick with evil ice in her veins. And no matter how much she wanted to warn him to stay away from her, she knew—after the way they'd been nonspeaking to each other—that he'd never believe it. He'd think it was petty jealousy, not pure protectiveness.

And worst of all, she had let Natasha and Tatiana into her heart. She'd given them something she never gave anyone: her respect and her trust. Knowing she had been so wrong made her feel like there was nothing beneath her feet but miles of blue sky.

Gaia Moore had really screwed up this time. But she couldn't do anything until she was sure of what she was doing. So far, since her father's disappearance, Gaia had been flying by the seat of her pants, stomping around the city and having temper tantrums, bouncing from one neighborhood to the next, having weird chance encounters that seemed to lead her somewhere and just turned her in circles again.

She had to get rid of this gun. And then she had to leave the city for a while. Natasha and Tatiana were sure to know, or at least suspect, that she had found the gun. And they'd know she knew the truth about them.

Oh God. Oh
God
! The truth about them! That this home that she'd made was fake, that every word they'd ever spoken to her was a lie! Gaia felt her throat tighten all over again. Her mind dipped dizzily into fury and sorrow.

It was impossible to think with all these feelings swirling around. She had to get out of there. She grabbed the gun, shoved it into her bag, and left as quickly as she could. The door slammed behind her with a thud that echoed a thousand times in her head. She wouldn't be back. From now on she had nowhere to stay.

Gaia had to get a grip. Find a way to focus and set out a plan. And to do that, she had to leave her own contaminated turf and lose herself somewhere else for a while. Anywhere, as long as it was far away.

BOOK: Shock
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