The Spellbinder (12 page)

“You’re right. I don’t understand a damn thing about you and I’m so damn horny, it’s a wonder I can even think at all.” He opened the door. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow morning.” The door slammed behind him.

Sacha stared at the door for a long time. Two tears brimmed in her eyes and then ran slowly down her cheeks. “You just don’t understand, Brody.”

“Mr. Devlin.” The knock on the door was as hesitant as Levine’s voice. “I’m sorry to wake you, but we may have a slight problem.”

Brody came wide-awake and raised himself on one elbow. Sacha? What else could it be? His life had been one problem after another since Sacha
had come on the scene. “Come in, Levine. What the hell is wrong now?”

Barry Levine stuck his head in the door. “We just wondered if you knew Miss Lorion has left the grounds. She said she needed something from the grocery store and one of my men gave her a lift to the supermarket. But I thought maybe I should check with you since Mr. Radison said she was to stay here under tight security.”

“Grocery store?” Brody repeated blankly. “I practically bought out the supermarket last night. She couldn’t have needed—” He threw off the sheet and began to dress hurriedly. “How long ago did she leave?”

“About ten minutes.” Levine shifted uneasily. “Carp is a good man, Mr. Devlin. He’ll keep her safe.”

If Sacha gave the man the chance to protect her. Brody had a sudden memory of Sacha’s pale, strained face last night before he had left her. Panic exploded within him. “Get Carp on the car radio and tell him not to leave her alone for a minute. Not for a second.”

“He wouldn’t do that anyway,” Levine protested. “I told you he was a good—”

“Tell him,”
Brody said between set teeth as he headed for the bathroom. “And tell Harris I want the car out front in three minutes.”

Levine was back in less than two minutes, his expression alarmed. “Mr. Devlin, I don’t know how to tell you this. Miss Lorion—”

“Is missing,” Brody snapped grimly.

“But it wasn’t our fault this time. Carp thinks she ran out the back door of the supermarket when she sent him to get a basket. How can we be expected to protect someone who deliberately tries to give us the slip?” Levine ruffled his sandy hair distractedly. “Lord, Mr. Randal is going to have our heads in a handbasket.”

“If Randal doesn’t, I will.” Brody brushed past him as he headed for the front door. “You shouldn’t have let her leave here.” He knew he wasn’t being fair, but at the moment he didn’t give a damn. It didn’t matter that Levine and his men couldn’t know Sacha would run away. She was
gone
, and the guilt and fear made him want to strike out at everyone. “Radio Carp and tell him he’s to search the entire area. You and the rest of your men follow me.”

“You think you know where she’s going?”

“I hope I do.” If he was right, Sacha would run to the only familiar person she knew in this country: Louis Benoit. “The Majestic Hotel.”

“Where is she, Benoit?” Brody demanded as soon as the Frenchman stepped from the elevator into the lobby. “Dammit, you know she isn’t safe here.”

Louis nodded. “It would not have been my choice for her to return here. If you can’t convince her to go back with you, we will have to leave immediately.”

Brody felt a surge of relief so strong, it almost made him dizzy. “Then she
is
here!”

“She arrived about twenty minutes ago.” Louis shook his head. “You handled the situation very clumsily, Devlin. You should have expected her to leave when you gave her nothing to hold on to.”

Brody stiffened. “She told you what happened last night?”

Louis shrugged. “Of course, why not?” He
glanced at Levine standing next to Brody. “Can we be alone? We need to talk.”

“The only thing I need is for you to tell me where to find Sacha,” Brody said, trying to leash the sudden fury he was experiencing. She had actually told Benoit she had tried to seduce another man, and all he did was shrug it off as casually as if it were a commonplace occurrence. No jealousy, no indignation, not even a raised eyebrow. “That blasted desk clerk wouldn’t give us your room number.”

“We have an agreement,” Louis said cynically. “You should have offered him a bribe, instead of threatening him. It works much better with some people. Send your man away. You’ll get nothing from me with either threats or bribes until we talk.” He met Brody’s gaze steadily. “Sacha doesn’t know you’re here. When I got your call from the desk, I decided it would be better to come down and discuss this before you barged in and blew everything again.”

“I once asked Sacha if you were her pimp,” Brody said, being deliberately insulting. “She said you weren’t, but you’re acting remarkably like one at the moment.”

A swift flare of anger lit Louis’s dark eyes. “I’m no pimp.” He was obviously trying to control his temper. “But I know Sacha and I care what happens to her. I think you do, too, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” His smile was a tigerish baring of teeth. “Instead, I would be thinking of ways to mutilate your famous face.”

Levine took a protective step closer to Brody. “I could talk to the manager, Mr. Devlin. Enough pressure and—”

“No,” Brody cut him short, his gaze never leaving Louis’s face. “Go back to the car, Barry.”

Levine frowned. “I don’t think—”

Brody made an impatient gesture. “If I need you, I’ll send for you.”

Levine hesitated, then turned on his heel and strode through the lobby toward the front entrance.

“Well?” Brody asked.

Louis gestured to a small room opening off the lobby. “No one should be in the bar this early in the day, not even the bartender. Pity. I’d let you buy me a drink. I could use one.” He moved gracefully into the dimness of the deserted bar and sat down at a white plastic table to the right of the door. “I’m not accustomed to interfering in Sacha’s life. She’s the only friend I have, and I don’t take risks with that friendship.”

Brody sat down opposite him. “Talk.”

“Americans are so direct.” Louis leaned back in his chair and gazed at Brody with a faint smile. “You’re angry with me. Why is that? It is you who made Sacha run away. You should have taken what she offered. It was stupid of you to think she would let you help her without giving something in return.”

“You’re saying I should have made Sacha my mistress?” Brody’s voice was threaded with fury. “What the hell kind of man are you?”

“One who wants to keep Sacha alive,” Louis
said quietly. “I thought we were agreed about that. You took a bullet for her two nights ago.”

“That doesn’t mean I want her paying me by jumping into the sack with me.”

“You told her that you desired her and you’re a very rich man. It was the only coin she could be sure you actually wanted.”

“I didn’t tell her that to make her—” Brody broke off in helpless exasperation. “Dear Lord, what a mess.”

“Yes, and one that must be cleaned up if Sacha is to remain safe. It’s not entirely your fault. Sacha should have told you more about herself, and you would have understood what a mistake it would be for you to refuse her.” Benoit smiled sadly. “I think perhaps she is a little afraid to tell you about her past. She says she is not, but it’s natural that she would be uncertain. You must make her tell you.” He paused. “I cannot do it for her. I don’t have the right, but there’s one thing I can tell you. Sacha and I are not lovers.”

Brody became still. “I find that hard to believe. You sleep in the same bed.”

Louis’s expression was suddenly shuttered. “It was convenient at times.” He shrugged. “Our relationship is rather complicated. She will tell you.”

“Perhaps,” Brody said. “But I think I’d rather hear it from you.”

“Too bad.” Louis pushed back his chair and stood up. “I have told you enough. It is Sacha we must be concerned about now. You can not imagine what she has gone through in her life. It must
be ended.” His voice grew more harsh. “So, dammit, forget your idiotic reservations and keep Sacha with you where she’ll be safe and we have a chance of capturing Gino. If she wants to go to bed with you, let her.” He started to turn toward the door and then stopped. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a large brass key, and tossed it on the table. “Sacha is in Room Two-oh-three. I’ll give you thirty minutes. I hope you’re both gone when I get back. Tell her I said it was time she told you everything.”

Brody’s hand closed on the key. “What if she refuses? I’m not going to leave her here even if I have to have Levine’s men tie her hand and foot and cart her out of the hotel.”

Louis frowned. “No, she must come to you willingly. Sacha has had much practice in hiding. If she leaves you again, you will not find her.”

Brody felt a chill touch him to the very bone. “She’s not going to run away again. I’ll find a way of keeping her with me.”

“Not unless you begin to understand what causes Sacha to be what she is.” Louis frowned thoughtfully. “There has to be a trigger to make her tell you.” Something flickered in his eyes as the answer came to him. “Have you ever noticed that whenever Sacha is frightened or nervous, she rubs behind her left ear?”

Brody nodded slowly, puzzled.

“Make her show you what’s behind her ear.” Louis turned and walked out of the bar.

• • •

Sacha was sitting on the bed when Brody swung open the door of the hotel room. She straightened with shock, her eyes wide in her pale face. “Brody, what are you doing here?”

“Where did you expect me to be?” He stepped into the room and shut the door. “Every time I turn around, you’re gone. Did you think I’d just let you run away? Your friend Louis tells me I’m an idiot, but I’ll—”

“Louis gave you his key,” Sacha interrupted. “He should not have done that. You don’t understand.”

“That’s what you told me last night.” Brody pocketed the key and walked toward her. “And you were right. I don’t understand a damn thing, but it’s not because I don’t want to. I’ve been wandering around in the dark from the moment I first met you, and I’m tired of being understanding and not asking questions. I want to know what the hell is going on.”

“I know I haven’t been fair, Brody, but I didn’t think …” She rubbed behind her ear. “I don’t know— What are you doing?”

Brody’s hands were carefully lifting the silken strands of her hair and pulling it back from her left ear. “Obeying instructions. Benoit told me to look behind your—” He inhaled sharply. “My God!” Four small white scars formed a crescent on the tender flesh just behind her ear. Each was perfectly round and of an identical size. “These are from burns!”

Sacha hurriedly stepped back and pushed his
hands away. “Louis had no right to tell you to do this.”

“He refused to tell me anything else.” His gaze was fixed on her ear, now half veiled by the curving bell of her page boy. “He said you’d tell me the rest.” He swallowed hard. He felt sick. “What caused those burns, Sacha?”

She looked away from him. “What does it matter? They’re very old burns. It happened a long time ago.”

“It matters. What, Sacha?”

Her gaze returned to him and she smiled shakily. “You’re going to be difficult again, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes,” he said huskily. “Damn difficult. How did you get those scars?”

She hesitated and then abruptly gave in. “Gino smokes a cigar.”

Shock and rage exploded within him. “That bastard
burned
you with a lighted cigar?”

She nodded. “I disobeyed him, and he decided he had to set an example.” She shivered. “Gino is a great one for examples. Every day that I came back without money, he tied me in a chair and had one of the other children hold my hair.” She moistened her lips with her tongue. “He did it very slowly and only one burn for each offense. Then he would untie me and give me a hug and a piece of candy. I can remember him laughing and telling me that all bad children must be punished, but he loved me anyway.”

“Children? How old were you?”

“Seven.”

She heard his soft curse and her gaze went to
his face. His expression held such menace, it shocked her. “It only happened that first week I came to Paris. I gave in after the fourth day and he never burned me again.”

“How magnanimous of him.” Brody’s voice held tones of silken savagery that were chilling, Sacha thought. “He only tortured you four times. And just what did you do to keep in his good graces?”

“I picked pockets,” she said simply. “We all did.”

“We?”

“There were usually anywhere from ten to fifteen of us at the trailer encampment at one time.” Her face clouded. “When one of us reached the age of thirteen, Gino couldn’t use him anymore as a pickpocket, so he sold him into prostitution.” She shuddered. “I know I couldn’t let that happen to me. I saw what they became. No freedom. No hope.”

“Who the hell is this Gino? How could he get away with this? It sounds like something out of
Oliver Twist
.”

“It was a little like that, I suppose. Sometimes it wasn’t a bad life. Children usually find a way of adjusting, and we were free to roam the streets and play as long as we brought home our quota of francs every day. I met Louis the first week I was there. He was a year older than I was and had been in Paris about six months. He tried to persuade Gino not to burn me.” She made a face. “He didn’t succeed, of course, and ended up with a split lip himself. The second night Gino made him hold back my hair when he burned me. I
remember the tears were running down Louis’s cheeks.…”

Brody felt tears sting his own eyes. “How could it happen?” he asked again. “Where was your grandfather?”

“He was the one who sold me to Gino,” she said simply. “I told you he hated
gajos.
When my mother died and he found the letter, he went into a rage. He never wanted to see me again and he thought he might as well profit by it. There are gypsy ‘bosses’ like Gino in practically every major city in Europe who use bands of children to rob the tourists. The money we brought in wasn’t as little as you might think. I know Gino had investments in several housing developments in Madrid and Marseilles.” She shrugged. “High profits and low up-keep. He might have gone on for a long time if I hadn’t found enough evidence to get the gendarmes to prosecute. I was almost twelve by that time and Louis was thirteen.” Her voice was only a level above a whisper. “I was so frightened the night at the hospital when the X-ray technician came in and told the police sergeant that Louis was thirteen. I knew Gino would—”