Asylum

Chapter 5: Facing the Music

Thursday midday

"Tilda Hellström's office."

"Sarah, it's Lärke. Is Mor–"

"Oh, thank Heaven! Hold on for just a second, Lärke. I'll get her, just hold on." I was put on hold before I could get another word in. The pang of guilt I had been feeling for the last couple of days spent ignoring her messages was rapidly growing into an oppressive weight.

I looked out the enormous windows of Ivan's living room. The leaden sky was ominous; the weather app on my phone was forecasting snow for this evening, but I wasn't sure it would hold off that long. It looked like dusk out there, and it was only a little past noon.

"Lärke, raring, where have you been?" My grandmother's voice sounded mostly relieved, but with a healthy bit of anger mixed in as well. "I was about to call out the National Guard."

I knew that was just an expression, but considering who I was talking to, actually getting the National Guard involved probably wasn't outside the realm of possibility. "I'm okay, Mormor, I'm still in New York. I'm ... I've just been working a lot, that's all."

"That is hardly an excuse, young lady." Mormor was working her way from fear to relief to righteous indignation, now that she knew that I hadn't been kidnapped, murdered, or trapped under something heavy. "Family comes first, and if you haven't learned that after ..."

"I was hoping to come see you today," I interrupted. I began pacing the room – windows, front door, windows, front ... . "Do you have any time in your schedule? I'll come to the office."

"Sarah will make time. When can you get here?"

I checked the giant clock hanging alone on the bare white wall and did some quick calculations. I would have to stop by Lex's apartment first, then my own condo, and then reverse the trip after the meeting to get ready for my shift at Asylum ...

"Lärke?"

"Sorry ... can we do four o'clock?"

"Yes. I'll be here. Shall I clear my schedule for the evening? We could have dinner ..."

"I can't." Now I was saying Ivan's most hated phrase to my grandmother, too. "I'll explain when I see you, but I won't be able to stay for long."

There was a moment of silence on the phone. "I can tell from your tone that I would lose this argument, so I guess I'll see you at four."

"I love you, Mormor."

"I love you, too." And my grandmother hung up the phone, undoubtedly instructing Sarah to piss off whomever she had to in order to clear a spot in her afternoon schedule.

I tapped a slender finger against puckered lips. Almost four hours seemed like a lot of time, but with two bouts with New York traffic and a couple of wardrobe changes, it was going be tight. I had to leave now if I was going to squeeze in a shower before showing up at Hellström Industries. I pressed a hand to my hair, still kinky and crunchy in places from the fountain of tiny braids Ivan had helped me undo earlier this morning. The shower was not optional.

My backpack, shoes, and hoodie were still in a pile by the front door where I'd left them less than six hours ago. I threw the phone in the pack and finished dressing, then stepped across the hall to find Ivan.

He'd thought to cancel his sparring appointment with Mateo today, especially since I said I didn't feel comfortable accompanying him to the ad hoc gym again; in fact, he'd come up with some rather interesting ideas about what we could do with the day instead. But difficult as it was to say "no" to him – and the man made it very difficult – I'd insisted that the bodyguards needed some reassurance that Ivan dating me was not completely incompatible with him leading whatever they considered a normal life.

He had begrudgingly agreed and headed over after downing a cup of espresso like it was a shot of morning tequila.

Marshall answered my knock with a wide, if sweaty, grin. "Hey, Lex. Did you change your mind about joining us?"

I saw Ivan put a pair of large dumbbells back on the rack before heading toward us; Mateo continued hitting and kicking a cracked black punching bag, undoubtedly aware of my presence but ignoring me with impressive focus.

"Another time, maybe," I answered. Marshall surrendered the door with a shrug and another smile as Ivan appeared behind him. My lover took in the shoes on my feet and the backpack on my shoulder and frowned.

"You're leaving?" he asked.

I loved the way his eyebrows drew together when he was unhappy about something. Before I had time to reconsider, I popped on my tiptoes to smooth out that pair of lines with a kiss.

"I just spoke with my grandmother, and she's freaking out," I explained. "It's been almost two months since I've seen her, which is not exactly normal for our family, and she sounds like she's on the verge of a stroke."

"Okay. Do you want me to take you? The bike will be faster than any other way you could get there."

"No doubt," I agreed. "But it's not necessary. I'll just sneak out the back and you can stay and pummel that scowl off Mateo's face."

Ivan turned to intercept the glower that the bodyguard was sending in my direction, then pushed me gently out into the hallway, closing the door most of the way behind him.

"You're sure?" he asked. His fingers brushed my cheek as he tucked a strand of unruly hair behind my ear. "I hadn't planned for our day to end so early. Or so chastely," he added maddeningly.

My heart started to pound. "You're making it very difficult for me to leave, you know that?"

His smile was doing crazy things to my brain. "Not difficult enough, apparently." He leaned in to brush his surprisingly soft lips against mine. "I'll try harder next time, but I guess I have a soft spot for grandmothers."

His tongue was full of promises as it slipped inside my mouth, painting pictures of an alternative afternoon and evening. I moaned softly and wrapped my arms around his neck, leaving little doubt of my reluctance to go.

But I had to go. I pulled away with a palpable effort. "See you tonight? Same Bat time, same Bat channel?"

Ivan frowned briefly at what he probably found an unfamiliar reference, then raised his brows. "Is that a clue about this evening's costume?"

I pursed my lips to consider as I backed down the hall to the elevator. "It wasn't meant to be, but I'll rummage through my closet and see what I can scrounge up."

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped in. If I weren't in such a hurry, I might have held them open for a moment longer, just to drink in the intoxicating sight of him, sweaty and disheveled and stunning, leaning nonchalantly against the door jamb, watching me with the same fierce intensity that he had pinned me with the first night I saw him.

But I was in a hurry, so I let the doors seal him from view.