Specters of Nemesis: by Karen Kincy

Author:Karen Kincy [Kincy, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Karen Kincy
Published: 2018-02-13T06:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

Ardis woke with her cheek pressed against cool leather. Blinking her gritty eyes, she pushed herself upright. She was in the back of a limousine. Morning light pierced the windows, though Wendel sat in shadow.

A scar cut across his cheekbone. Wendel II.

“Good,” he said, “you’re awake.”

“What happened?” she rasped, her throat sore.

“You had a little too much to drink.”

“What?”

He tipped his head at the partition separating them from the driver. “Luckily, we won’t be too late to catch our zeppelin flight.”

She stared at him, trying to puzzle together her fragmented memories. “Flight?”

“For our honeymoon.”

She glanced down. The ruby ring glinted on her other hand. Either she had drunk so much champagne she couldn’t even remember their own wedding, or Wendel II had concocted a cover story while breaking her from jail.

Pretending to smile, she leaned against his shoulder. “Tell me the truth,” she whispered.

“I rescued you,” he whispered back.

“Were you the man in the gas mask?”

“Yes.”

“And the smoke?”

“I liberated knockout gas from the police station. They use it to rescue hostages.”

Her throat tightened. “Will it hurt the baby?”

“No.” He spoke in a murmur. “Lower your voice.”

The driver parked the limousine outside a skyscraper before opening the door. Wendel hopped out and offered her a hand. She clung to his arm, faking a laugh, pretending to be tipsy. Wendel kissed her cheek, his stubble rough. They had to act like newlyweds, even if she was tempted to become a widow by murdering him.

“Haught Tower,” he said. “The second tallest skyscraper in New York.”

“Do we have time for sightseeing?”

“No.” He paid the limousine driver, who tipped his hat. “Look.”

She followed his gaze to the top of Haught Tower. Beyond all that glass and chrome, at the pinnacle, a spire pierced the sky.

“A mooring mast,” Wendel said.

Her gaze darted to him. “For a zeppelin?”

“Precisely.”

As the limousine pulled away from the curb, she rested her hand in the crook of Wendel’s elbow. He escorted her into Haught Tower. The lobby looked impossibly grand. Water burbled in an indoor fountain, scattering light across floors of white marble. Once again, Ardis felt small and out of place in her well-worn clothes.

At the elevator, the operator touched the brim of his hat. “Which floor, sir?”

“The roof.” Wendel glanced at Ardis. “We’re catching a flight for our honeymoon.”

“Where to?”

“London.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Wendel wanted to put the Atlantic between them and Nemesis.

“Good choice, sir.” The operator hit a button.

With a jolt, the elevator ascended. She watched the floor number rise until it hit 50. The doors slid open with a clunk. They stepped into a waiting area with vast windows, not unlike a train station dropped onto the top of a skyscraper. They weren’t the only ones here–about a dozen other passengers waited for the zeppelin.

“Thank you,” Wendel said, handing the operator a dollar.

The moment the elevator descended, Ardis turned on him. “Where are the others?”

He strode to a window, staring at the clouds. “I could only carry you.”

“Wendel, we have to tell them.”

He paused. “Do you trust me?”

“Not completely,” she said, a quiet admission of guilt.

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