23. Ariadne
23
ARIADNE
A n overwhelming ball of fire showers me, starting at my head and moving down to my knees. Everything shakes, and no matter how rigidly I sit, all the neurons in my brain are firing off erratically. I can’t believe this is fucking happening. To me.
Caleph is still talking, but I don’t hear a thing he says as I stand, a heaviness weighing on my head. My body sways, a slow dance I might do if I were drunk, then I collapse to the ground.
I fall in and out of consciousness as I hang upside down off someone’s back. I’m being carried somewhere, and for a minute, a sudden rush of panic flows through me as I wonder where I am. My head bounces off his back, my hair like a fanned-out halo slapping through the air.
The next time I come to, I’m lying on a bed, and I can hear the beep, beep, beep of a monitor. Voices speak in hushed tones, and my head feels like it’s weighted down with iron. I’ve never known such pain. And yet, I’ve never known such peace.
My hands are clammy, and I feel a sharp stabbing pain in the back of my hand that stings like a bitch.
“Where am I?” I ask, as my eyes flutter against the pain coursing through my whole being.
A hand passes across my forehead before Caleph’s face comes into focus, leaning over me with a cloth against my temple. When he removes the cloth, he purses his lips tight and rubs a hand against the back of his head. This I have come to realize in the little time I have spent with him, is a nervous tic. Though I don’t know that a man of his caliber has anything to be nervous about.
“Caleph?”
My voice is barely a croak as I look for answers. He looks at me uncertainly, before he looks behind him and someone else enters the frame. It’s a short middle-aged man with prematurely white hair and spectacles. He looks like a doctor.
“Your blood pressure dropped dramatically, and you’re badly dehydrated. You’ll have to leave the IV drip in your hand for a couple of hours. If it’s all the same to you…” he turns and looks at Caleph, “I’d rather stay and monitor her for that time. She doesn’t look like she’s in a good way.”
Caleph nods his agreement. I feel the heaviness in my hand as I try to lift it, then let it drop to the bed again and allow my eyes to flutter and close. I’m so exhausted, I think I just want to sleep and never wake again.
* * *
The doctor is gone when I wake again, but Caleph is sitting spreadeagled in a nearby chair, his hands cushioned behind his head as he watches me. His whole body seems to come to life as my eyes open and he rises and comes to my side.
“How long… have I been asleep?” I ask, which is a stupid question, because I wouldn’t even want to get back the time I’ve lost.
“Sixteen hours.”
“That long?”
He doesn’t reply as he concentrates his stormy eyes on me. After a long silence, he chooses to pick up where we left off before I fainted.
“Do you remember what we spoke about before you fainted?”
I give him a short nod. I remember everything, and I’ve forgotten nothing. And the reminder almost has me fainting all over again even as I lay in a bed.
“How long will I have to stay here?” I ask him.
I can’t think about what my disappearing will do to my career. It’s just taking off and I’ve just received the raise I deserved. More than a raise; Hinky was more than generous in spreading the love around when he got his checkbook out. I would have expected nothing less; both my articles saw the presses running nonstop for days. We sold more papers in the past week than we had the whole year, his flailing small time publication finally getting the much-needed boost it needed. At least Hinky could admit it was my articles that did that, even if only with his check book.
“For as long as you value your life. You’re not a prisoner here, Ariadne. But I do hope you take the situation seriously for your own safety. At least until I can contain the threat.”
“How will you do that?” I ask him. “People that order hits don’t retract them.”
“No, they don’t,” he agrees. “But dead men don’t pay bounties."
* * *
I believe him when he says I’m not a prisoner. Aside from kidnapping me – twice – he’s never treated me like a prisoner. He even saved my life once when crazy creeped into my life and I jumped overboard from his yacht into the ocean. This is the second time he’ll probably save my life; this time from assassins, so my debt to him is climbing a little high.
He hands me a phone with pre-programmed numbers for Nina, Michael and Hinky. I don’t know why he thinks I’d want to speak with Michael – unless I was looking to add to my trauma. I call Hinky first. Needless to say, he’s beside himself with worry that I’ve jumped the fence and gone to greener pastures. I assure him that I’m fine and I’m following another lead which could result in another massive coup, which was Caleph’s suggestion, although I don’t know how I’m going to go back home without a story. This presents another problem, but I push on with the story until Hinky’s teetering with excitement and telling me he’ll send funds for expenses.
I roll my eyes and hang up, throwing a glance Caleph’s way as I dial Nina’s number. He’s pretending to work on something on his computer, when I know he’s watching me out of the corner of his eye. I turn my back to him and greet Nina in hushed tones, though I know her voice carries through the room because her shriek is so high pitched, it almost bursts my ear drums.
“Girl, where have you been? Why aren’t you answering your phone? What’s this number you’re calling from?”
Her questions come hard and fast, and she doesn’t stop to take a breath. The noise she’s making is painful to my head. I rub at my temple then try to answer her questions as best I can, telling her more or less the same story I told Hinky; that I’m on assignment, I lost my phone, and this is a new number. No, I wasn’t mugged, I assure her.
I never did tell her how I came to be in Caleph Rojas’ presence when I interviewed him; I didn’t think she needed to know then, and I don’t think she needs to know now, so I press my lips together and suppress the urge to share too much with her.
“So, when will you be back?” she asks. “We have so much to catch up on.”
“I’ve only been gone two days, what could I possibly have missed out on?” I ask her, frowning into the phone.
“Lots. Like lots. But… hmmm. Maybe you don’t want to know.”
“Know what?”
“Rand broke up with his fiancé. And he came around asking about you.”
“Asking about me ?” My tone changes involuntarily, the disbelief in my voice unmistakable.
I look over my shoulder at Caleph. He’s no longer pretending to do his work. Instead, he sits back in his chair and watches me suspiciously, trying to decipher who’s asking about me. I don’t know why he’s so interested to know, and I don’t know why I flush in embarrassment before I turn away.