Taking a deep fortifying breath, he knocked firmly on the door to Mikah’s flat and waited but received no answer. Determinedly, he pounded again, and this time a door opened down the hall and a woman of about fifty years poked her head out. She eyed him cautiously up and down, lingering in the safety of the doorway. “If you’re looking for Mikah, she’s not home.”
“Can you tell me where I might find her?” he asked courteously, seeing the instant relaxation in the woman’s frame when he spoke in his deep brogue.
“She’s probably out with Kris somewhere.” The woman’s eyes softened perceptively when she noticed the cane he was leaning on, relaxed her guard even more, though Jace was a stranger. “It is New Year’s Eve, you know? They probably won’t be back until late, I bet.”
“Ah, my mistake then.”
With a sigh, he stepped back from the door. Mikah Bauer’s flat was what the Americans referred to as a loft, a space in a converted warehouse that now housed almost a dozen separate dwellings. The hall where he stood was inside, leaving the residents sheltered from the cold winds that swept in off the lake that was so close to the downtown location. One side of the long hall was interspersed with numbered doors, while large windows that overlooked the street and parking lot where he’d parked his rental car after a long series of flights and connections dominated the opposite side.
In the daytime, the hall would be bright and cheerful. At nine in the evening, the hall was lit neither brightly nor dimly, but it was enough to allow him to easily see the thoughts working through the neighbor’s mind as she assessed him from head to toe. “I guess I’ll just come back then.”
“You’re welcome to wait, if you like.”
“Nay, thank you. I could not impose,” he said politely. “I will come again to see Miss Bauer.”
“You’re not a friend of hers?” Wariness had returned to the woman’s voice with the knowledge that Jace truly was a stranger. He was glad to feel the emotional space increase between them.
“In a manner of speaking,” he said after a moment. “We knew each other years ago.”
“Oh, I thought you might just be that guy she met in…” The woman stopped suddenly, her eyes shifting out the window and she stepped forward, pointing. “Well, there she comes now. How odd.”
“Odd?” he echoed, moving to the window as well to look down.
“Well, it is just nine on New Year’s.”
The couple crossing the street was linked arm-in-arm, Jace saw. And both were so bundled in thick winter clothes and hats he was hard pressed to understand how the neighbor recognized Mikah so easily. But despite the green stocking cap covering most of her blond hair and the scarf pulled up high around her ears, he recognized her as well as they moved beneath the light of the streetlamp. It was not just her partially concealed features; his Hero was visible in the way the woman walked and the way she threw back her head as she laughed up at the tall man at her side.
“She looks lovely. Very happy,” he whispered, unaware that he had spoken aloud until the neighbor harrumphed loudly.
“Men! You should know that things aren’t always as they seem.” She crossed her arms with a frown in defense of her gender.
“Why is that?”
“You look at her and see a happy girl? Well, it's none of my business, but well, we meet in the hall a lot and the walls aren’t as thick as they should be.” She shrugged. “She’s bright on the surface but sometimes, when she doesn’t think anybody notices, a look comes about her. So sad, like somebody died. All the time.” Her brow creased as she studied him, and he wondered if she was seeing that same look on his face.
Jace stood by the window watching Mikah as she entered the door below. A moment later, the hum of the lift’s workings filtered down the hall and he tensed as he realized that in just a few seconds, she would be coming down the hall.
“Ha!” The woman laughed. “You look like you want to bolt. Sure you don’t want to come inside and hide?”
Shooting her a scowl, he braced himself against his cane and stared down the hall, waiting for the lift doors to open.
Chapter Forty-Five
They did, and the pair stepped out of the lift. Much like that moment on the ramparts a couple of weeks before, Mikah froze with awareness before she even looked up.
Then she did, catching sight of him. Her hand went to her throat, her eyes wide.
And, as before, she tensed like a deer in the woods, ready to run away from whatever danger she perceived. Her companion must have sensed her intentions as well, because he clasped his hand tightly around her wrist and tugged her forward.
Her obvious reluctance to greet him would have been amusing if it hadn’t torn at Jace’s heart so. Why was she avoiding him? What was she afraid of?
As she was virtually dragged down the hall, Mikah hid behind her companion watching Jace with eyes so wide that she might’ve seen a ghost. Not the warm love he’d come to know. Not the tenderness. But wariness and uncertainty.
And recognition.
There was no doubt that she knew who he was.
She stayed behind the man as they approached down the hall, and Jace shifted his gaze to him. Stopping a few feet in front of him, the man held his silence for a long while before he spoke. He pulled a hand from his pocket and stuck it out at Jace. “Kris Waters.”
