Silver Linings, стр. 89
“And now you've decided to stay?”
Rainbird nodded. “I see in Purgatory exactly what my friend Paul saw. A lovely, relatively peaceful place where a man who has grown weary of battle may live out his life on his own terms.”
Mattie narrowed her eyes consideringly. “What about that man you had following me in Seattle?”
“That man was your bodyguard, Mattie. I assigned him to keep an eye on you while you were involved with Hugh Abbott. Abbott has killed innocent bystanders before and will probably kill again. I didn't want you to be one of the victims. I realize you are not yet prepared to believe me when I tell you Abbott is dangerous, but sooner or later you will see the truth.”
It was then Mattie realized for certain what she had suspected earlier. Rainbird did not know she had seen the man break into her apartment and attempt to kill Evangeline. Apparently the Colonel had not yet communicated with his assassin. He would know there had been a failure in his plans, but he did not yet know at what point things had gone wrong.
Perhaps the intruder had not regained consciousness, or maybe he had awakened with convenient short-term amnesia. Mattie had heard that was common in cases of blows to the head, and the man who had invaded her apartment had certainly endured a number of those.
“Forgive me, Mattie,” Rainbird was saying, “but may I ask you how you came to be involved with Paul Cormier?”
Mattie considered her words carefully. “He was selling an item from his collection of ancient armor to someone I know. As I was going on vacation in the Pacific at the time, I was asked to pick up the item and take it back to Seattle.”
“Ah, yes, now it makes some sense. Perhaps you would like to see the collection? I removed it temporarily while the house was being cleaned, but it is now back in place, and it is very impressive. Do you know anything about antique armory?”
“No.” Mattie decided not to mention her aunt's collection. The less Rainbird knew, the better.
“Paul acquired some remarkable pieces. I shall be delighted to show them to you.”
Mattie's nerves were live wires of tension and fear by the time the meal drew to a close. Rainbird's charm was like a foul cloud reaching out to envelop her. Vampire, she thought nervously as she took a tiny sip of wine.
When the Colonel poured her a glass of brandy and led her down a wide hall to the library, she realized her fingers were trembling. Rainbird did not appear to notice.
“Impressive, isn't it?” Rainbird said as he led Mattie into a lovely room filled with books and glass cases of various sizes and shapes. “The cases are all individually sealed and climate-controlled, of course. Salt air is not good for old metal.”
“No, I imagine it isn't.” Mattie wandered from case to case, her brandy glass in hand, and tried to look interested in the daggers, swords, helmets, shields, and mail inside. She focused on her breathing, trying to calm herself. When the time came to act she simply could not afford to collapse from stress. She stopped in front of a case that held a single weapon, a sword.
“That is a particularly interesting specimen, isn't it?” Rainbird observed, moving softly to stand directly behind her.
“Yes. I think that may have been the sword I was sent to collect.” Mattie felt the old, familiar sensation of walls closing in around her. It was, she realized vaguely, the first time she'd ever had another human being trigger her claustrophobia. Elevators, caves, stress, yes. But not another person.
“Fourteenth century, according to Paul's records,” Rainbird mused. He was very close to her now. His knuckles gently brushed the line of Mattie's neck. “Finest Spanish steel.” His breath was warm on the bare skin of her neck as he lifted her hair in his hand. “It has a name, you know. Valor. A good weapon deserves a name of its own.”
“I've heard there's also a legend attached to it.” Mattie could hardly breathe. She felt as if she were being suffocated by Rainbird's closeness.
“Ah, yes.” Rainbird's fingertips touched her neck with infinite gentleness. “Something about the blade being dangerous for anyone to claim unless they're an avenger after a betrayer, no? Charming curse, isn't it? But the betrayer, whoever he was, has been dead for several hundred years. And so has the avenger who was meant to take up the blade.”
“Do you think so?” A shiver of dread went straight down Mattie's spine as Rainbird's fingers trailed across her shoulder.
“Yes. The avenger and the betrayer are long gone. But the blade survives.” Rainbird stroked her arm. “It is a beautiful sword, isn't it? A blade made for killing, not for ceremony. Note the clean lines of the pommel and hilt.” His hand slid along the curve of her arm. “No useless ornamentation or expensive gemstones. The blade reminds me of you, Mattie. Clean and elegant. Cool on the outside. But forged in fire. Beautiful.”
Mattie sucked in her breath in a startled gasp as Rainbird eased closer. His fingers were gliding just inside the collar of her shirt now. She felt his lips move softly, lightly on her nape. The claustrophobia was so strong she was almost sick with it.
“Mattie? You are really very lovely, you know. I have never met anyone quite like you.”
She looked up at him, half-hypnotized and fully terrified by the utter clarity of Rainbird's gaze. Mattie realized then why he could look at her with such complete sincerity. It was because he had no concept of conscience or remorse. There was nothing there under the surface, just as she had tried to explain to Hugh. Nothing there at all.
This was a man who could commit any crime and