Love and War (Part 2)

[Continued from https://www.scribblerworks.us/fiction/love-and-war-part-1/]

“Isn’t it obvious?” he returned, coming round her with a hand on the small of her back.  He used that gentle pressure to direct her near the bandstand.  He paused in front of the lead player, and pulled some folded currency from a pocket.  He handed it up to the leader.  “As agreed?” he said to the young man.

The musician’s eyes widened when he realized Riley had handed him five one-hundred dollar bills, one for each member of the band.  “You sure?” he squeaked.

“I don’t care if it’s ‘The Blue Danube’,” said Riley, “as long as it’s a waltz.”

Before Aym could say anything, the bizarre sounds of a rock band playing the famous Strauss waltz filled the room.  Riley guided her out onto the dance floor, which had been vacated by perplexed partiers.  The pair of them glided around the space easily, because one of Aym’s deep, dark secrets – one that Riley knew quite well – was that Aym liked to waltz.

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Aym’s emotions hovered between exasperation that Riley would take advantage of her that way, and curiosity about the interaction with the band.  At last her curiosity won out.  “Okay, tell me.  How did you know they could play a waltz, let alone know ‘The Blue Danube’ well enough to fake their way through it?”

He grinned in triumph at having tweaked her curiosity.  “I talked to them earlier.  They’re all students at Julliard.”

Her better sense was beginning to come out on top.  “Sean, you have to stop this,” she said seriously.  “Stop chasing me all over the world.”

He merely smiled possessively at her.  “You are here with me now, my dear Amethyst.  You haven’t really given up on me.”

“I hope I never give up on anyone,” she snapped back.  “But that’s a different matter than you and I having a close relationship of any sort.”

She could feel his anger rising.  Fortunately, the band reached the end of their version of the waltz.  They stopped moving, oblivious to the applause that rose from those who had been watching the performance.  Then suddenly, Jason was at her side, more serious than usual.

“You’re wanted, Aym,” he said, gently grasping her nearest elbow and drawing her away from the obviously furious man she’d been dancing with.  When they were out of earshot, Jason glanced back to the dance floor.  But Riley was gone.

“Who was that?” he asked.

Aym avoided meeting his eyes.  “My past come back to haunt me,” she answered.  She took a deep breath, pulled her chin up, and finally looked at him.  “Who wants me?”

He handed her the clutch purse she’d left on their table.  “Granny.  Your phone was ringing, so I answered it.”

She grabbed the purse and rushed out of the party, to find a secluded place where she could hear herself talk.

“Granny?” she asked, when she called back.  “What have you got?  He’s got to be up to something!”

Danielle’s wary voice chilled her.  “Sorry, Aym.  There’s no uptick in chatter in any of the usual places.  No news about Riley recruiting or purchasing or anything.  If he’s really there in New York, it’s got to be entirely personal.”

Aym pressed a suddenly cold hand to her forehead.  “I really don’t want to hear that, you know.  Because he really is here.”

“Sorry, Aym.  That’s the way the chips are falling.”

“Thanks, Danielle.”  With that, she flipped the cell phone off.

Jason tried getting information out of her all the way back to her hotel.  But she didn’t want to tell him anything.  He even offered to stay with her, but she sent him back to his own hotel and companion.  It wasn’t his fight, after all.

The next day was not so pleasurable for Aym.  She kept trying to figure out what Riley might be up to, but those private evaluations were constantly interrupted by her colleagues.  Some still sought details about the presentation that would be given at the banquet that evening.  Some wanted her advice on a project they were working on.  And some simply wanted to talk about watching her waltz at the party the night before.  Those conversations she tried to keep as short as was polite.  In any case, she was not able to make much of the problem of Riley.

She dressed in a dark suit for the banquet, and once she arrived, she allowed herself to be shepherded to the head table.  Jason smiled brightly on seeing her, and she returned a feeble smile.  Finally, the time came for their presentation.  She rose and went to the podium.  The sea of faces turned her way, reminding her of how much over the last couple of months she had been looking forward to this moment.  But Riley had ruined the pleasure of anticipation, like a thundercloud on the horizon during a picnic in the desert.

She wound her way through her talk, explaining her own researches in developing her bio-monitor, detailing its ability to track heart-rate, breathing, and blood pressure.  She explained that she’d developed it because there had been occasions during some of the Pioneers’ operations they had needed this information in the field to tend to injuries.  She then introduced Jason, praising his innovative thinking.  She sat down, to let him explain his adaptation, taking Aym’s work, miniaturizing it, and including a rechargeable battery strong enough to provide defibrillation if necessary.  Then came the highlight of the presentation, when Jason removed from the small case he’d brought to the dinner the prototype of his device.

The awed response of the audience finally brought a faint smile to her lips.  Jason’s device was not much bigger than a hand-held blow-dryer.  That alone would have revolutionized the monitoring of biological systems.  But the inclusion of the ability to provide defibrillation would make the device indispensible in paramedical services, and field operations of all sorts.  The astonished pleasure of the audience brought them to their feet, applauding loudly.  Jason stepped around the podium and leaned over the head table to speak to someone who had come up to congratulate him.

Abruptly, several things happened at once.  Something hit Jason in a shoulder, and he toppled head first over the head table to the floor.  A fire alarm went off, shrill and harsh, cutting through the applause. People snatched up their belongings and fled for the exits, not waiting to find out what the alarm was for.

Aym jumped to the floor and bent over Jason.  A dart of some sort had pierced his clothes and skin.  She felt for his pulse and was alarmed to feel it growing fainter with each beat.  She straightened up, meaning to grab his device, still so new and untried it didn’t even have a name.  But she was certain it could help him now.

To her surprise, one of the uniformed waiters held it in his hands.  “Give it to me!” she demanded.  But he ignored her, looking instead to the figure that sauntered toward her.  It was Riley.  He twitched a gloved hand, and the waiter lightly tossed the device to him.

Aym glared at Riley.  “Give it to me, Sean!  I can save him!”

He turned it over in his hands, his expression sour with his usual displeasure of modern design.  “Save him?” he repeated without looking up at her.  “Why ever would I want to save your boyfriend?”

Aym was so flabbergasted that she stood staring at him with her mouth open.

Meanwhile, Michael, who as a non-professional guest had been seated toward the back of the room, fought his way through the fleeing crowd.  He was on his knees by his companion in a flash.

Riley watched the drama, his eyebrows raised in faint surprise.  “Dear me.  It seems I miscalculated that.”

“Give it to me, Sean!”

“What? This little toy?”  He whipped a switchblade out of a pocket, and pried open one of the seams.  He glanced briefly at the interior workings, and then flashed his humorless grin at Aym.  “This?”  He dropped it on the floor, watching the pieces bounce.  He stomped on it.

Fury flooded through Aym.  She launched herself at him, seeing only red, intending to shred him, pound him.

She had forgotten how fast he was.  He caught her wrists in a steely grip, bringing her to a halt.  They stood there for a moment, suspended in time, eyes locked.  The shrill alarm continued to cut through the air.

“You’re mine, my dear Amethyst.”

“Never!” she spat back.

In an instant, he had her hands pinned behind her back.  He gave her a swift, vicious kiss.  “All’s fair in love and war, my dear,” he whispered, and then flung her away from himself.  She stumbled backwards, and fell over Jason’s body.

She scrambled back to her feet.  “Then war it is, Sean!” she shouted at him.  But he was already well away, and she feared her defiant cry was lost in the shrieking of the alarm.

About Sarah

Now residing in Las Vegas, I was born in Michigan and moved to Texas when 16. After getting my Masters degree in English, I moved to Hollywood, because of the high demand for Medievalists (NOT!). As a freelance writer and editor, I found Nevada offers better conditions for the wallet. I love writing all sorts of things, and occasionally also create some artwork.
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