Page 43 of City of Love

Who put this…?

Then she remembered the strange little man, the awkward, inappropriate hug.

Benjamin Smythe.

And he was still over there… with Gideon.

She lifted her head and stared out the window, trying to imagine where they might be headed. As they drove alongside the Schuylkill River, she saw the famous boat houses lined up along the opposite shore. They’d always been one of her favorite sights in Philadelphia, but today they seemed foreign and invasive. Less than an hour before she’d been looking at the exact same view and seen only untouched woods, a few geese along the banks. She put her hand on the window glass to block them out.

“When are we starting the real grabs?” asked the driver, continuing to blab without regard for her presence behind them.

Real grabs?

Lexi slammed her eyes shut, pretending to have fallen asleep against the windowpane, hoping the smarter man would be satisfied enough to continue their conversation.

There was pause, probably while he studied her to determine if she was listening, but then he spoke, softly, but still loud enough for her to hear. “Supposedly right away. I think the plan was to get that Gideon dude’s nosey ass out of the way first. Not sure how we ended up with this chick. Maybe another team got him by now and she’s just a bonus. Or maybe plans changed at the last minute and she’s bait.”

Bait!

Lexi sat bolt upright in the center of the seat, hands grabbing both of the front seat headrests as she pulled herself forward between the two men’s heads.

“No!” she shouted at them, blood pounding in her temples, skin clammy and tight.

“Sit back!” the driver yelled at her.

She didn’t move. She was about to question why, to scream at them to stop, to beg for them to—

But as she opened her mouth to put forth any of those things, the nausea and the fear and the pounding in her head and the movement of the car and… she got sick. Projectile spraying all over the front seat.

“You bitch!” the man on the passenger side yelled, swinging the back of his hand at her head with all the force of the home run slugger named on his fan jersey.

As she slumped onto the floor of the back seat, for a fraction of a second before consciousness slipped away, the only thing she noticed was how the little hump that separated the two sides was jammed awkwardly into the small of her back.

CHAPTER 18

By the time Gideon and his friends made their way back across the city to Club Deux Mondes, crossed over to Taco Shots, and sent word via the staff there for Matthew—who clearly wasn’t expecting them and showed up in uncharacteristic khaki shorts and a t-shirt—it had been two hours since Lexi was taken.

Gideon was in a rage, though Julian managed to keep him calm enough to avoid destroying Taco Shots. Nevertheless, he paced furiously, face red, veins bulging at his temples, hating the fact that he still wore his damned peasant shirt, breeches and boots. He needed to deal with Lexi’s world now—a world in which he already felt far less capable. His current clothing merely underscored the fact that here, in her universe, he was an anachronism. A thing to be looked at with curiosity, not respect.

His feeling of helplessness mounted.

“What the hell did you do, McCabe?” He grabbed Matthew by the sleeves of his Hard Rock Paris t-shirt, ripping the seams at the shoulders as he yanked him forward. “Where is Lexi?”

“What are you talking about?” Matthew asked, his eyes darting from Gideon to Vikkras to Alana to Julian. “I sent her across to you this morning.”

“She slipped back through, asshole!” He let go of Matt’s sleeves and pushed him hard in the chest, Matthew’s back landing solidly against the edge of the bar. “You pulled her back through! Why? How?”

Alana came forward, placing a hand on Gideon’s shoulder. “We don’t know what’s going on yet. Let’s hear from Matthew first.”

He shrugged her hand off. “Don’t use your voice on me. She’s in trouble. Every moment counts.” But he did relax his shoulders, taking his first deep breath in a while.

“Gideon, I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” Matt said.

“He’s telling the truth, G,” Alana said. “Of that I’m sure.”

Matthew slumped back against the bar, an expression of gratitude on his face as he nodded his thanks to Alana. “I don’t understand. It’s now been well over four hours since I sent her to you. Did you play the tones again to keep her there? If not, maybe her time just lapsed and she slipped back through.”

“No, it wasn’t like that,” Alana said. “Gideon renewed the tones for her, and she had nearly three hours left. She was standing next to him in a meadow when she suddenly—”

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