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  “Where to, ma’am?” the driver asked from the front seat.

  Teagan barely heard him. The words of the man in the blue coat kept replaying themselves in her mind. A beast. A monster, he had called Sir. What else had he been about to say? He has nearly taken one life already and he will attack again, unless you help me… Help him to what? What could Teagan possibly do to control Sir? It wasn’t until she asked herself the question she recognized a part of her gave some credence to the stranger’s wild accusations. Hadn’t she sensed something wrong, something dangerous in Sir, from their very first meeting?

  “Ma’am?” the cab driver repeated. “Where do you want to go?”

  “Anywhere,” Teagan muttered. “Just take me away from here.” She felt an urgent need to get away, as if putting mere distance between her and the stalker would somehow wash away the memory of his words.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Take me someplace busy,” she heard herself reply to the driver, “I don’t care where.”

  Someplace busy. As if the presence of a crowd could somehow protect her, defend her from Sir, from the blue-coated stranger, and from the desperate thoughts circling around in her head. Who could she believe? Who could she trust? If only there were someone she could talk to.

  She was hardly aware of the passing scenery or of the minutes that ticked by before she was dropped off outside the entrance to a busy shopping mall. Blindly, she clambered out of the car, paid the driver, and fell into step with the stream of people filing through the double doors into the mall’s first level.

  Inside it was bright and loud, but at least she was protected from the bitter chill of the outdoors. Vaguely, she recalled having wandered around inside this mall in the past, just looking for a place to stay out of the weather. Such recollections were already growing distant in her mind after a short time of settled living.

  She shook aside her disjointed thoughts and disentangled herself from the flow of the crowd, pausing outside the door to a hair salon. Her reflection in the mirrored glass was pale, her eyes wide and frightened.

  She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring through the glass, before a strange voice interrupted her jumbled thoughts. “Hi, can I help you with something?”

  Teagan jumped, but it was only one of the stylists from the shop, a pixy-faced blonde in a black apron, come to poke her head around the door. Teagan realized suddenly how odd she must look, standing with her nose against the glass and nothing but her reflection and a black and white poster in front of her.

  At her prolonged silence, the stylist prodded, “I see you’re looking at our ad. We’re having a special on cuts this month. Or maybe you’d like a perm or an updo?”

  Teagan didn’t know what did it. Maybe it was the friendly, yet quizzical look in the strange girl’s eyes, or possibly it was just the reassuring comfort of seeing a stranger smile. All she knew was that suddenly her throat felt tight and there were tears prickling at the backs of her eyes. It had been an emotional day.

  “Yes,” she heard herself croak in answer to the stylist’s offer. She did have a date tonight anyway, didn’t she? “I’d like—um, an updo I guess.” Truthfully, she didn’t care what they did to her hair. What she did care about was that the inside of the salon was brightly lit and crowded and ordinary looking. Suddenly all she wanted was to sit back in a safe, reassuring atmosphere for a while and surround herself with normality. She wanted to listen to the lively buzz of the stylists chattering among themselves and the drone of soft music playing over the radio in the background, and forget the existence of all that troubled her.

  And over the next hour, that was exactly what she did.

  Chapter 21

  It was the strangest afternoon Teagan had ever spent, trailing around a busy shopping mall, watching the faces of strangers rushing past, and feeling entirely separated from their world. Even the time spent at the hair salon was nothing more than a brief period of hibernation, a chance to quiet her thoughts for a while. On the move again, she drifted freely with the flow of the crowd. She had much to think on, yet her mind felt incapable of sorting anything out just now. Who could she turn to for help in figuring out what was happening in her life? She thought briefly of the mysterious Dr. Green, who might know more about Sir than anybody did. But he seemed a vague and untrustworthy resource, one that brought up as many questions as answers. And so her thoughts ran in circles.

  At some point, she lifted out of her fog long enough to remember the time. She did have plans for the evening. At least, she’d had plans before the encounter in the park… Now she was uncertain even of those. Nevertheless, she abandoned the mall and headed for home.

  Her apartment was cold when she got there. She didn’t know if the heating was out or if it was just her imagination that made the space seem suddenly chill and dreary. As she stood in the doorway and surveyed her shabby little nest, her eyes fell on the wrinkled newspaper clipping resting atop her nightstand. The photo of Sir.

  Something drew her to walk to the stand and pick up the clipping. Studying the face of the man in the picture as if she had never seen him before, she looked for a clue as to the truth of his nature. Did he look like a murderer? In person he had a certain air of danger about him, but in the photo all that came across was the image of a darkly handsome, well-dressed man with a crooked smile. He had the appearance of respectability. Then again, who was to say what a cold-blooded killer really looked like? If people could pick them out while they were walking around on the streets, they’d never get a chance to do their violence, would they?

  The eyes of the man in the picture seemed to mock her uneasy thoughts. “Who are you?” she whispered, as if the black and white illustration were capable of speaking up to defend itself. Calculating businessman, partying playboy, murdering monster… She had too many labels for this man and had yet to figure out which one suited best. Worse, above all these other images, one in particular rose up to take precedence—that of the sleepless man on the couch, clutching at her hand, as if seeking rescue from his nightmares.

  Maybe it was that memory, or maybe it was a decision she would have reached anyway. She didn’t know. One thing was certain. All of a sudden, she knew what she was going to do. She was going to find out the truth. She was going to unmask Sir and all his secrets with him. The strange rituals, the frightening accusations… All must be revealed. She couldn’t put a name to the emotion that prompted her decision. She only knew there was a burning need inside her, a desperation to know who he really was. And not for the sake of the blue-coated stranger in the park, nor for anyone else, but for her own satisfaction.

  Nearby, on the bedside table, the numbers of her digital clock flipped to a five and two zeros. She was running out of time. She remembered she had never even opened the packages Sir had sent. She could only hope everything fit because if not, it was too late to do anything about it.

  Dropping to sit cross-legged before the cracked mirror hanging over the back of her door, she delved into one of the purchases she had made shortly after moving into her apartment. She’d scarcely thought she would actually use the makeup kit she’d bought when she purchased her new clothes. Tonight, however, was one occasion where she would want to tone down her pink, wind-roughened complexion to something softer.

  She applied the liquid foundation so liberally, she looked, she thought wryly, as if she had slipped on a porcelain mask over her real face. The results weren’t unpleasant though, and once she had added a soft shade of blush to her cheeks and a hint of gray eye shadow beneath her brows, she began to take on a more natural appearance. By the time she finished, she looked like she had been applying her own makeup all her life, rather than as if she had just experimented with it for the first time.

  Dragging off her clothes, she sat atop her bed and began removing the lids from the boxes. Quickly, she sorted out which of the six pairs of identical strappy sandals were a good fit, and returned the others to their boxes. Opening the largest package
next, she gasped at its contents. Inside nestled a floor length, gauzy evening gown in breathtaking shades of purple and blue.

  Lifting the dress as carefully as if it were made of tissue, Teagan held it up against herself and examined her reflection in the mirror. The colors of the fabric were ideal, setting off her chocolate colored hair and making her skin appear a becoming shade of milky white. The tight fitting cut was flattering, clinging to her narrow waist and hugging what curves she had, until she could almost believe she possessed an attractive figure. The slimness of the skirt lent her an illusion of height, flaring slightly below the knees and trailing in the back to brush the floor.

  Teagan felt almost wrong, shedding her normally grubby image and stepping cautiously into this elegant creation. She laced it up with care and was half afraid to sit down once wrapped in the dress for fear of wrinkling the fabric. She next slipped on the silver heels that added a touch of color to her costume before tearing into the final packages. One contained a luxurious coat of black faux fur, and another a small black clutch with silver lining.

  If Teagan thought these gifts were beyond extravagant, she was shocked to open the final and smallest box to discover a sparkling necklace with matching wristband and earrings. Plucking up one of the earrings and turning it over in her palm, she tried to determine if the inset sparklers were real diamonds. Surely not. Sir knew better than to trust her with anything like that, she thought ironically, recalling the time she’d stolen the food from his kitchen.

  All the same, even as fakes, they were probably worth more than anything she owned. There were even matching combs for her hair resting in the bottom of the box. Sir had truly thought of everything. He must be even more eager to impress his grandfather than he had let on.

  She donned the earrings first, and then clasped the dazzling necklace around her throat. Its teardrop shaped pendant felt cold and unexpectedly heavy nestled in the hollow of her throat. Lastly, she arranged the silvery gem studded combs into her upswept hair, positioning them where they would show to advantage.

  She spun twice before the mirror, noting how her silver heels flashed beneath the swirl of her gauzy skirt and the way loose tendrils of curls from her up-pinned hair drifted around her face and neck as she moved. She dipped into her makeup kit one last time to apply a thin layer of lip gloss, and then her work was done.

  A nervous glance at the clock told her she had made good time. Fifteen minutes left before tonight’s adventure would begin. Not until she caught the sparkle of her eyes in the mirror did she admit that was how she thought of it. An adventure. Quickly she checked the thought. She was allowing herself to get too caught up in the excitement of a new dress and a pretty set of jewelry. According to Sir, tonight’s date was a business arrangement. Nothing more. More than likely he would want all these gifts back after tonight was over.

  Out of nowhere, another thought arose to dampen any lingering enthusiasm. The words of the blue-coated man returned to her yet again. A beast…a monster. Teagan shivered. What if those things were true? What was she getting herself into tonight?

  A sharp rapping at the door startled her out of her somber thoughts. She knew that confident knock.

  Chapter 22

  Teagan took a final glance in the mirror, drew a deep breath, and tried to set her nervousness aside as she opened the door. Sir waited in the doorway, looking more resplendent and aloof than she had ever seen him. He had donned a tuxedo, which was probably as expensive as her entire outfit, and wore his black hair slicked smoothly back from his brow. Like this, he looked even more imposing than usual. His dark eyes, at least, were the same, as they flicked over her in bold appraisal from the toes of her high-heeled shoes to the clusters of dark ringlets pinned around the crown of her head.

  In his presence, the warnings of this afternoon throbbed loudly in Teagan’s ears. Luckily, she had steeled herself for just this moment, and she didn’t think her consternation showed. At least, she hoped it didn’t. She summoned her courage.

  “Well,” she asked, more flippantly than she felt, “have I been made suitable for your needs?” She hadn’t forgotten his arrogant comments on their last encounter.

  His expression was unreadable. “You’ll do,” was all he said, in the same flat tone he might’ve used to indicate his meal had been prepared adequately or his shirts had been pressed correctly. His expectation had been met apparently, but not exceeded.

  Teagan flushed with humiliation. Hadn’t she spent the last hour fussing over her appearance just to please him? Or rather, to please his grandfather, since he was at the heart of this whole charade.

  “Ah, a little fire in your eyes at last,” he said, with a hint of humor. “I was beginning to think you were impossible to ruffle. But withholding complements usually brings out the temper, even in the shyest of flowers.”

  Teagan avoided his eyes. “You’re mistaken,” she said awkwardly. “The anger you refer to comes purely from your own imagination.”

  “I see. So if you aren’t offended by the lack of flattery, you’re hurt.”

  She sidestepped the question. “Isn’t it time we were on our way?”

  “Just as soon as you fetch your bag. And don’t forget your coat either. The temperature is dropping.”

  Feeling a little like a chided child, Teagan followed his direction and in moments, they had left the shadowed stairwell of the apartment house behind them and were stepping out onto the street. Here she discovered he hadn’t been kidding about the cooling temperatures. The dark skies had finally let loose their promised store, and all around Teagan tiny white flakes were fluttering softly to the ground. The sidewalks were cold enough that some of the fall was already beginning to stick.

  Sir took her firmly by the elbow, an unexpected gesture she only just stopped from shaking off, and led her to a waiting limousine on the corner. “Grandfather sent his car,” Sir offered by way of explanation as Teagan hesitated, gaping before the long black vehicle. Opening the door for her and ushering her inside, he waited until she had settled in the backseat before sliding in beside her.

  Inside, Teagan took in her surroundings with unconcealed awe. A week ago she had been living on the streets, and now here she was making herself comfortable in the back of a limousine. It was a bit much to take in. Overhead the ceiling glowed with dots of multicolored lights that alternated from red to blue to green. Directly before her, just above eye level, a mini viewing screen—blank, for the moment—was suspended from the ceiling alongside a series of buttons evidently controlling the car’s CD player.

  Opposite her was another row of seats and across from them an elegant minibar. This was stocked with enough champagne flutes to serve a dozen passengers. Buckets on either side of the bar held bottles Teagan guessed to be champagne. At the very front of the car, the head and shoulders of the driver were just visible over the back of the seat, though a tinted window was raised between the front and the back of the car.

  Sir had no sooner sunk into the leather-covered seat beside her and pulled the door shut, than the long vehicle rolled away from the curb, slowly entering the lanes of cars. As they maneuvered through the thick streams of traffic toward downtown, Teagan wanted to concentrate on the ride, to memorize every extravagant detail of her unreal surroundings, so she could replay them in her mind again when she was home alone in her bed tonight. Unfortunately, her excitement was intruded upon by an unwelcome distraction.

  Although she sat in the very center of the backseat, and even though there was plenty of room to spare on either side of her, Sir, for whatever unknown reason, seemed to be taking a perverse pleasure in crowding up against her until their legs touched. Only the knowledge he would no doubt find the motion entertaining prevented Teagan from sliding further along the seat to occupy a spot near the opposite door.

  She searched for some diversion to take her mind off the feel of his warm leg pressed against hers. “Are we going to stop somewhere and pick up your grandfather?” she asked, grasping at
the first topic to come to mind.

  If Sir sensed the purpose of her weak efforts at conversation, he let it pass. “No. He’ll have been there long ahead of us by the time we arrive.”

  “He’s a fairly generous man, giving the two of us the use of his car.”

  “He can afford to be.” Sir leaned forward to pour himself a glass of champagne from the minibar. Teagan couldn’t help noticing the bottle had already been opened on his ride here and a number of champagne flutes already sat empty along the bar. “Drink?” he offered now, but Teagan shook her head. In Sir’s presence she always felt the need to keep her wits about her.

  “Anyway,” he continued, taking up the thread of conversation. “The old man is hardly without his ulterior motives.” He paused just long enough to down half the drink in a single gulp. “Right now, for instance, you can bet his real intention is to give the two of us a chance to be alone. A convenient opportunity. I suggest we make use of it.”

  Teagan started at the unexpected suggestion, prepared to make that embarrassing move to the far side of the seat. A second later, however, she relaxed again, as Sir simply sank further back into his seat and revisited his glass of champagne, apparently disinterested in pursuing his own idea.

  “I can never tell when you’re joking or in earnest,” she complained nervously.

  “I’m fully serious at the moment.” He set aside his empty flute. “If we’re going to pull this off, we’ll need to get our plans straight. This will be our only chance to review.” He didn’t wait for her acceptance, before continuing. “To begin with, no more of this Sir business. Not tonight anyway. I doubt Grandfather would find it very believable for us to be in a serious relationship and yet not to be on a first name basis. So for the rest of the evening, make an effort to keep to my real name. No slipups either. Grandfather’s a pretty shrewd old cookie.”