Express Male

“You got that right,” Noah told her. “Sorcerer has resurfaced, and She-Wolf’s made contact. Hell, Philosopher’s turned up again after being missing for three years, and She-Wolf has made contact with him, too. I never thought we’d see him again. If we’re going to nail Sorcerer and find out what Philosopher knows, not to mention discover what Lila learned over the last five months, we need her.”

“Then we need a quick fix,” Gestalt translated. “And I have an idea. It’s unconventional, and normally not what I would do in such a situation, but…”

“What?” Noah asked. “I’ll try anything.”

“Then try playing along with her,” Gestalt told him. Though she clearly still had some reservations about what she was saying. “Go in there and tell her you ran her name through the databases and found out Marnie Lundy really exists, and that everything she’s said tonight has been corroborated, and we’re so sorry for detaining her and now she’s free to go.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Noah muttered. “Like I really believe there’s a Marnie Lundy out there in the world who looks exactly like Lila Moreau and just happened to have her path cross with both Philosopher and Sorcerer in one night.”

“You don’t have to believe it,” Gestalt said. “Just make her think you do. She was specific about her background and home life and jobs. She has a firm grip on her delusion. So expose that delusion for the fantasy it really is. Prove to her that all of what she’s told us is completely false. Once she’s forced to confront the fact that there is no reality to support her convictions, she may—and I do mean may—come out of it.”

“How do I do that?” Noah asked.

“Take her to the address she insists is hers. See if it really exists. And if it does, go inside and see what you find. Ask her questions. Try to trip her up. Do the same thing with her workplace.”

“You didn’t have much luck tripping her up,” Noah pointed out.

“Here, I have no choice but to accept that what she says is true. Out there, you’ll have more opportunities to force her to accept the unreality of the world she’s created for herself. I’m betting she won’t be able to prove much of what she told us tonight. And I’m betting it will happen fairly quickly.”

“And then she’ll go back to being Lila again?” Noah asked dubiously.

“Maybe,” Gestalt told him. “Of course, she might be propelled into an even worse state than she’s in now.” Her gaze shifted from Noah to No-Name, then back to Noah again. “But I don’t think something like that is really a concern for OPUS, is it?”

Noah clamped his jaw shut tight. Gestalt was right. OPUS never put the human condition before national security. They couldn’t afford to. National security was job one. Even more important than the health and well-being of one of their top agents.

“It’s worth a try,” No-Name said without hesitation.

“We need to know where She-Wolf’s been and what she’s discovered. At this point, she may be our only hope for bringing in Sorcerer.”

And they needed to bring Lila up on charges for trying to take out the big guy, too, Noah thought. If indeed she had tried to take out the big guy. The big guy was acting awfully calm for a man whose alleged would-be murderer was on the other side of the wall.

“All right,” Noah said, ignoring the sudden bad taste in his mouth. “I’ll do it. I’ll take her home and see what happens.”

He looked at the TV screen again and saw that Lila had laid her head back on her arms on the table. She was completely motionless. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her in such a state. Even when she slept, she moved constantly. He remembered that much, and more—too much more—about her.

He shifted his attention to Gestalt. “This better work,” he muttered. “And it better work fast. I need She-Wolf back.”

CHAPTER FIVE

IN HER DREAM, Marnie was playing the Polonaise in an empty Carnegie Hall, her passion and love for the music swelling inside her, flowing out through her fingertips and into the cavernous room. As she completed the final stanza, she dropped her head and let her hands fall from the keys into her lap. But when solitary applause erupted, she snapped her head up again.

Not an empty auditorium after all. A lone, tuxedoed gentleman sat center stage in the front row, his crisp white shirt and tie a direct contrast to the black cut of his jacket and trousers. His dark-blond hair was swept straight back from his face, giving more prominence to his blue, blue eyes, his finely sculpted cheekbones, his full, sexy mouth. Marnie’s own lips parted in surprise at seeing him and her heart hammered hard in her chest. But she said nothing.

He stood silently, moved fluidly to the end of the stage where steps appeared, climbed them with clear intention. She remained seated on the bench as he approached from stage right, her mouth going dry at the sight of him, her pulse racing faster with every step he took. Her dream self remembered now that he had attended all her performances, always seated in the same place, watching her with a hazy half smile playing about his lips. He always seemed to enjoy the music—or something—but not once had he applauded with the rest of the audience. Only tonight, when he was alone.

Now he strode toward her with that same half smile curving the corners of his mouth. When he drew close enough, he reached for her and Marnie stood, hooking her fingers over his, thinking he meant to walk her off the stage. But he twined their fingers more tightly together and kept coming toward her, pulling her to himself, sweeping her into his arms and covering her mouth with his, completely and with utter possession.

She gasped as her head jerked off her arm. She felt the cool metal table beneath her hand, blinked at the bright light overhead. She’d dozed off, she realized. She’d been dreaming. But when she turned her head toward the door, she saw the man from the empty auditorium standing there, as if he’d exited her dream with her. Instead of a tuxedo, he wore the dark suit in which she’d last seen him. And instead of the slicked-back, Rudolph Valentino hairstyle, his dark-blond tresses were dry. But they were creased and untidy, as if he’d been running his fingers restlessly through them. The swelling had gone down on his lip some, and the abrasion on his face had faded to a less angry red smudged by a faint bruise. In spite of the injuries, his was still a very compelling face.

How long had she been asleep? she wondered, pushing the thought away. What time was it? When she looked at her watch, she saw that nearly seven and a half hours had passed since her shift had ended at Lauderdale’s. Would that she had dreamed everything that had happened since then, she’d be waking up in her own bed this morning, readying herself for another day’s work.

Straightening in her chair, she met faux Randy’s gaze and asked, “So what’s your code name? I mean, I have a few I could use for you, but none of them is worth uttering in polite society. Then again, the society I’ve experienced tonight has been anything but polite.”

“I owe you an apology, Ms. Lundy,” he said, addressing her by her real name. And in an amazingly courteous voice, too. She wasn’t sure which surprised her more.

“Yeah, I’ll say you do,” she retorted before she could stop herself. Reminding herself that snarkiness wasn’t going to get her home any faster, she gentled her tone some before adding, “What brings on this sudden change of heart?”

He left the door open as he approached the table, something he hadn’t done all night. “We ran a check on your name,” he said, “and we realized you are indeed who you say you are. Marnie Lundy of 207 Mockingbird Lane in Cleveland, Ohio, and that you’ve been an employee of Lauderdale’s for two years, just as you said.”

“Well, why the hell didn’t you run a check like that the minute I got here?” she demanded.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “We were convinced you were Lila Moreau trying to pull a fast one. We didn’t have any reason to believe you were who you said you were. So we didn’t see the point.”

“And what made you change your mind?” she asked, still skeptical. For such a supersecret sophisticated organization, they sure did seem like a bunch of boneheads.

“The woman who spoke to you a little while ago was a psychiatrist we brought in to examine you when we thought you were Lila. After speaking with you at length, she realized—and assured us—that you’re neither crazy, nor pretending and that you are precisely who you claim to be.”

Marnie nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said. Even though she was still suspicious of the sudden turnaround. “So does this mean I can go home?” she asked hopefully.

He nodded. “I’ll drive you myself.”

His offer, too, surprised her. “That won’t be necessary,” she assured him.

“Do you remember how you got here?”

“Um, no,” she admitted.

“And you haven’t had any sleep tonight,” he pointed out.

Well, except for that one little nap with the weird dream about ol’ blue eyes there kissing her, which, now that she thought about it, was really a nightmare, except for the fact that it had actually been kind of nice….

She sighed. She really did need to get out and date more if she was thinking a dream kiss from a virtual stranger who’d abducted and terrified her was kind of nice. Even Lila probably didn’t have anyone like that in her little black book.

“You haven’t had any sleep, either,” she said.

“I can go without it. Something tells me you can’t.”

Yeah, like the fact that he’d walked in on her fast asleep. She hoped she hadn’t been drooling. Or making those soft murmuring sounds of satisfaction out loud that she’d been making in her dream when he kissed her.

“So when can we go?” she asked.

“Any time you’re ready,” he told her, surprising her again.

“But don’t you have to…”

“What?”

“Debrief me or something?”