Guilty Pleasures (17 page)

Gavin gave him a final, malevolent stare, and climbed into a vintage red Morgan.

Polly appeared beside Nasty and asked, “Is everything okay?”

“I hope so.”

“Did you and Gavin have a spat?” The energy she’d found to do the show had fled. Signs of exhaustion showed on her face. “You two looked like circling animals in there.”

“Thanks.”

She looked hurt, and he hated himself for that. “Let’s get you home,” he said. “You’re dead on your feet. So am I.” Dead on his feet, and more convinced he should listen to his legendary instincts than he had ever been.

“Nasty.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m scared.”

Absently, he put an arm around her shoulders. “Where did that come from? I thought you said you were cool with everything.”

“I lied. I’ve got this
…
this
feeling.
It’s not going to stop. Whoever he is—they are—they’re going to keep coming after me.”

“You aren’t alone.” He began to sweat again. “I’m with you now.”

“They’ll wait
.
It won’t matter how long they have to wait. When they decide it’s the right time, they’ll find a way to get
at me. There’s something out there.” She stood with her shoulder against his side. “I won’t have to ask you to go. You’ll want to. Either I’m completely nuts, or I’m on a collision course with real evil.”

He took a moment too long to gather her in his arms, but he prayed she hadn’t noticed. “You don’t get over what happened last night that easily. Let me worry, okay. I’ll make sure nothing touches you.”

She felt it, too. Not just coming their way, but right where they were. What they called,
the presence of evil.

“
Y
ou will do exactly as Festus and I tell you, Polly.” Belinda’s hair fascinated Nasty. Today she wore it gelled into kinky curls that made a black halo at least a foot in radius around her highly colored face. “And you, too, Nasty. A most commanding name, that.
Nasty.
One could not ignore a man with such a name. You and Polly are in my care. It has been ordained. Venus phoned me, thank goodness. She must be calmer. I could scarcely u
nderstand a word she said. But I
phoned that nice Dusty Miller. He will pick her up and bring her here to the shop.”

Nasty had wanted to collect Bobby from Dusty and take him and Polly away. Only Nasty knew there could be no
away.
The line had been drawn here, and here it would all end.

“I only came because you sounded so upset when you called,” Polly told Belinda. “We shouldn’t stay.”

“But you have to,” Belinda insisted. Adorned with black, sparkle-dusted gauze, she billowed before them through the shop and up a flight of spiral stairs. “You both look desperately
depleted.
Festus! Come here, Festus. Come out of your wretched dome. Help me with Polly and Nasty. We’ll sit in the roof garden. I’ve locked the shop. Venus knows to ring the residence bell.”

Overcome by a sense of the unreal, Nasty held Polly’s hand. She clutched his fingers. There were questions he ought to ask her, but he didn’t want to hear the answers—not if they were what he expected them to be.

They followed Belinda through several dark, sparsely furnished rooms, and out onto the roof.

Cacti crowded a small garden on top of the building that housed Another Reality. Hundreds of cacti. More varieties than Nasty had ever considered might exist. Many bloomed their unreal colors made more vivid by the layer of fine, white sand spread over the area.

Polly smiled faintly and averted her face.

He squeezed her fingers.

“You will sit here, Polly,” Belinda said firmly separating their hands. “And you over there, Nasty. You must both lie down and experience the healing powers of my garden.”

Protesting that he didn’t want to be separated from Polly by several yards of sand might make him sound unbalanced. He didn’t want to be separated from her—ever.

Polly accepted her friend’s autocratic directions and allowed herself to be guided to a rattan chaise. Nasty subsided into one just like it, right down to its purple-and-gold-striped pillows.

Belinda folded her hands beneath her bosom and breathed deeply. She closed her eyes, and said “Cleanse yourselves. We must gather the power needed to combat what we do not understand.”

“Mom shouldn’t have called you,” Polly said, sounding miserable.

“Hmmm.” Belinda rocked. “This creature who calls and tries to bend you to his will is to be understood, not feared.”

Nasty sat forward on his chaise and studied the woman.

“He has succumbed to his deepest passions, and those passions have made him desperate.”

“Belinda—”

“No.” The woman interrupted Polly and went to ease her down onto the chaise. She stroked back her hair and kissed her brow. “You will not upset yourself further. Festus and I
are experts in these matters of focused fascinations. We shall concentrate our power and decide how to assuage the hunger without depleting your strength.”

Purple lingo had never been Nasty’s forte—spoken or interpreted. But if he got the gist of this garbled message, the lady wasn’t talking about knife-wielding wackos in wet suits. She still thought the problem of the day remained with passive telephone threats.

“Did Polly’s mother explain exactly what happened last night?” The habit of gathering absolute information didn’t die easily.

Festus emerged, a thin, gray-haired figure—also in black.

“Please calm Nasty for me,” Belinda told him. “He is agitated. Venus spoke of a great deal of trouble last night. I wonder if Polly—and I understand perfectly, my dear—but I wonder if she is losing objectivity. Could that be so?”

“No.” Nasty frowned Polly to silence. “No, Polly’s perfectly objective. But things are under control.” He didn’t want her panicked more than she was already panicked.

“Of course they are.” Belinda perched beside Polly on the chaise. “Forgive me if I sound like a mother hen, but Polly has become as close as a daughter to me. She is the gentlest of spirits.”

As if he needed to be told. “The gentlest,” he agreed, looking at his gentle spirit’s troubled eyes.

“This man who makes these objectionable calls is harmless,” Belinda said. “He may even be a true admirer. These things happen. He could be concerned for your goodness, Polly. He could believe that he has a mission to assist you to remain pure.”

The turn of the conversation put Nasty on edge. “When Dusty gets here with Venus and Bobby we’d better get you to bed,” he told Polly. “You’re exhausted.”

Festus hovered near the open door into the apartment over the shop. Nasty glanced from the man to a large, glass dome situated on what appeared to be a single, third-story room.

“Your stargazing quarters,” he said, indicating the dome. “Nice setup.” Surely the city lights must prove a hindrance.

“Nice enough,” Festus said. “Speak to that husband of yours, did you, Polly?”

She hesitated, then appeared to make a decision. “Sam Dodge isn’t my husband Festus. He never was.”

“Hush,” Belinda said loudly. “And you, hush, Festus. Some things do not need to be spoken of.”

“Bobby’s father and I were not married,” Polly persisted as if driven to confession. “Sam was never interested in having children. When I became pregnant with Bobby, Sam told me to choose between him and the baby. I chose my baby—naturally.” Then she looked at Nasty, looked at him hard.

“Naturally,” he said softly. In other words, she was reminding him that Bobby was first with her.

Belinda wound and unwound her fingers. She ran them over her skirts as if drying her skin. The color in her cheeks grew even brighter. “You will not do as you’re told, Festus,” she said. “I warned you not to pry, but you didn’t listen. You have forced Polly to speak of things that need never be said. You have humiliated her in front of her new friend. You—”

“I already knew Sam Dodge wasn’t Polly’s husband
,
” Nasty said trying for a bland tone. “She doesn’t have anything to be embarrassed about. Will we hear that bell from here?”

“I’ll go down and wait,” Festus said and fled back through the door with obvious relief at escaping Belinda’s wrath.

“For Bobby’s sake”—Belinda turned up her palms—“if not for your own, it would be best not to speak of his, er, condition.”

“You make illegitimacy sound like a disease,” Nasty said not regretting his words. “If it is, it’s not fatal. Not immediately, anyway. My father was an occasional visitor. His last name wasn’t Ferrito.”

“Oh, my dear,” Belinda said in hushed tones. “How generous of you to try to soften this for Polly.”

Nasty decided Belinda was never going to be one of his
favorite people. “I think Polly is the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met. She doesn’t need me to help her feel good about herself.”

The woman regarded him from beneath lowered lashes. “You’re right, of course. My reactions are because I am so concerned for her in these troubled times. Will you help me persuade her to look for the good in what this man says to her on the phone. I truly believe—given what Venus has told me about the messages—that he means Polly no harm.”

“For God’s sake!” He rubbed his jaw. “Sorry. I’m tired, too, I guess. But you don’t know Polly was attacked last night, do you? Physically attacked?”

Belinda’s bewildered expression took in first Nasty, then Polly. “Attacked? Who attacked you? A
man?”

“Yeah, a man,” Nasty told her. “Who the hell do you think it would be?”

“What man?” She never looked away from Polly. “Tell me at once. Who is this man? How do you know him?”

“I don’t know him.”

“He got into her condominium. He hit her. Show Belinda the cut on your scalp.”

Polly shook her head. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to think about it anymore. He grabbed me from behind and turned out all the lights so I couldn’t see him.”

“And?” The whites of Belinda’s violet eyes grew prominent. “What did he do to you? Oh, please, what did he do?”

“Stop it.” Nasty stood up. “This isn’t helpful. Come on, Polly. We’ll wait for Dusty and Venus outside.”

Belinda rose as if to ward him off. “How dare you presume to interfere in matters you cannot possibly understand as I do! This is a matter of the heart, to me—of the spirit. Polly and I have a connection that is quite different from any you may pretend. I have encountered her on an astral plane of which she is yet to be aware. It is entrusted to me to guide her to safety.”

“Too bad you missed out last night,” Nasty said, his patience
shot. Somehow he’d get Polly out of here without insulting the deluded lady further. “Sorry if I’m a bit short. It was a long night, and it’s been a long day. And it isn’t over yet. So, if you’ll excuse us.”

She breathed deeply, and drew herself up very tall. Her expression became serene. “Polly,” she said calmly. “Of course. I was troubled
but
…
Oh, yes, I was trying—the weak, earth-bound part of me was trying to deny the warnings of my spirit I deceived myself with the pretense that when I felt you were in trouble, it was merely our well-meaning whisperer. Oh, I shall have difficulty forgiving myself. I had only to listen and be sensibl
e enough to know that the pain I
felt was from your body as well as your mind.”

The pain Nasty had begun to feel was somewhere else. “Yeah, well, thank you very much for the fresh air and insights.”

“We’ll have some tea. I know what it should be.”

Polly’s white face sickened Nasty. “We’ll go home,” he told her. “I’ll take you home.”

“Stop,” Belinda pointed at him. Her long forefinger ended in a broad blunt fingernail. She turned the finger on Polly. “There was sex, wasn’t there? You were
…
You were forced to have sex.”

“No,” Polly said faintly. She went to Nasty’s side. He saw the rapid rise and fall of her breasts.

“You must not lie to me. I cannot help you heal if you hide your shame.”

“Stow it,” Nasty said through gritted teeth. Damn, she’d driven him to lose his temper. “Give it up, lady. Practice the mumbo jumbo somewhere else.”

“Mumbo jumbo!” He was treated to another sighting down her finger. “I see what you cannot possibly know I see. I see
you.
She was attacked by a man she could not see. Forced to have sex with a man she could not see.”

“I was not forced to have sex.” Polly pushed past Belinda
and made for the door. “I couldn’t see who attacked me, but he didn’t force me to have sex.”

“You wanted to have sex?” A whirl of black gauze swished between Nasty and Polly. “Oh, my poor girl. How could I have failed to understand at once. Of course. You did what your flesh drove you to do, but then you were ashamed. And this story is your sad way of trying to deny your own lust. We are your friends. We accept you as you are. Admit the truth of what you have done.”

Nasty dodged Belinda, grabbed Polly, and rushed her inside. “Don’t listen, sweetheart. She’s lost it.”