Her Fugitive Heart Read online

  “You seriously have to ask?” She raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t object when we first met.”

  “That was before I discovered you were a murderous sociopath,” I said.

  “Come on, that only turned you on even more. You have a type, Ravi. You like dangerous chicks.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “You really think Julia is less dangerous than I am just because she doesn’t carry a gun?” Ariel said. “She and I recognized each other the moment we met. You went from me to her without missing a beat and we can totally see why. You just won’t admit it.”

  “I really don’t know what you see in me,” I said. “I would have thought you’d find some ’roided-up soldier with tattoos and piercings and be bonking his brains out all the time while discussing gods and spirituality.”

  “What makes you think I haven’t?” she asked. “Too many of those guys have PTSD.”

  “So what am I?” I asked. “Your relief?”

  “Oh, Ravi, you really don’t understand women, do you?” She chuckled. “You’re the only one with the gods I like. Specifically, the goddess I like.”

  That would be Kali. Who stood over us with a cocktail in her hand wagging her tongue.

  Ariel kissed me deeply, only breaking off when her phone buzzed.

  “Dinner’s over. They’re coming out. Guess we ought to head back.” She sighed.

  We walked back in time to see the door to the dining room open and the guests streaming out, each with one of Madame Felicity’s girls on his arm. The Tories nodded to Julia, gesturing at her to join them.

  “That’s my cue, lads,” she said and went off.

  Ariel winked at me and went off to join Collins.

  “Don’t worry,” she said to me. “I’m not fucking him. I’m here as his bodyguard.”

  “Our job’s done for now. I reckon we can just skive off for the night,” Benjamin said on the Bluetooth.

  “It’s not as if we’re saving lives,” Mark said.

  “Not this weekend, anyway,” I said.

  “Let’s go eat some of that posh nosh,” Ken said.

  “Yeah, I want to see what the fuss over the lobster is about,” Clive said.

  We made our way to the kitchen, where Wittingsley had the staff lay out our meals, the same fancy spread the guests had, only with the sense that these were the leftovers. Not that we were going to complain about a free dinner cooked by a five-star Michelin chef. The kitchen was nearly as big as the Golden Sentinels office back in London.

  Dinner was fairly uneventful. The food was fancy, though we thought it overrated.

  “Not much better than a curry from the local pub,” Ken said.

  Mark took out a Baggie of magic mushrooms and waved it.

  “I’m going to partake in some visions tonight, kids,” he declared.

  “Is that such a good idea?” I asked.

  “What else is there to do? It’s a lovely evening, conditions are perfect for a good trip. You’re all as bored as I am. Care to join me?”

  “No thanks.” We all declined.

  “I’m really beat,” Marcie said. “I’m just going to bed.”

  “Wittingsley?” Mark asked.

  “I’m on duty all through the night, sir,” Wittingsley said. “You never know what the guests will need.”

  “Well, I’ll be in the garden all night if anyone changes their mind,” Mark said.

  The rest of us retired to our rooms. I was glad I managed to avoid running into Laird Collins or Ariel.

  EIGHT

  I was on the verge of dozing off when I heard the shouting from outside my room.

  It was after three in the morning.

  I stepped outside my room and followed the noise to the hall. I thought that was Cheryl’s anti-pervert flamethrower going off and one of the girls had set someone’s crotch on fire.

  Rudra, god of thunder and retribution, was bellowing and puffing out his chest in the hallway.

  Kleiner was looking at him, frozen in terror. He caught my eye and pointed at Rudra.

  At first I thought I was dreaming. Why was this man seeing one of my gods? He saw on my face that I could see what he was seeing.

  A familiar tune began to play in the air, gathering steam. I recognized it immediately. It was Richard Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries.”

  Behind me, I heard the galloping of hooves.

  I turned around and saw a large, muscular blond woman in armor and a horned helmet, her sword drawn, riding on a winged steed.

  Kleiner started to tear off his clothes, screamed, and ran off.

  Rudra began to laugh. He clapped his hands with joy.

  Then he was gone.

  The music faded as Kleiner receded farther and farther away.

  And I was alone in the silent hallway.

  I went back to my room to grab my phone and put on my Bluetooth earpiece. Then I headed for the guest quarters.

  When I got there, I saw the South Africans rolling naked on the carpet in the hallway, laughing and crying while Lakshmi towered over them, smiling, gold dust drifting off her clothes. They looked like they were losing their minds at the sight of the goddess who was the sheer embodiment of wealth. Then she turned her back on them and walked away, a fine golden mist trailing in her wake, and the men leapt to their feet and ran after her in blind worship.

  “Benjamin, you there?”

  “What’s . . . up . . . mate . . . ?”

  “Why are you huffing and puffing?”

  “Push-ups. Keepin’ meself active so I don’t sit on my arse all night watching these screens and nod off.”

  “I need you to check the screens. Things have gone seriously pear-shaped.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “The guests are all going doolally.”

  “You what?”

  “Just look! They’re all freaking out in various ways! I think they’re hallucinating.”

  I left out the bit about them specifically hallucinating my gods. And a Valkyrie.

  “Oh, fuck me! That’s a lot of naked men freakin’ out all over this manor.”

  “Tell me,” I said.

  “South African bloke is rollin’ around on his bed. The bird wot’s with him is trying to talk him down. She’s got it under control. I’d swear she’s done this before. She’s literally fucking him into submission. Guess Madame Felicity’s girls really have special skills.”

  “Who else?”

  “German bloke—”

  “Kleiner.”

  “He’s havin’ a right old time, tearin’ off his clothes, ran into his room, whoops, he’s run out of his room.”

  “Shit. Where are Ken and Clive?”

  “Checking on the South Africans in the East Wing hallway.”

  “What are they doing?” I asked.

  “They’re just dancing around in a circle, look like they’re havin’ a grand old time.”

  “I’m close by. I’ll check on them first.”

  It took me three minutes to get to the East Wing. DeBeer’s partners were there all right, dancing with Lakshmi. She reveled in their worship and adoration. She was what they loved, wealth and abundance. The girls who paired with them gathered behind them in attendance like nymphs, ready to catch them if they lost it completely.

  “Ken? Clive? Where are you?” I asked on the Bluetooth.

  “Lookin’ for Kleiner,” Ken said. “DeBeer and his mates aren’t in any danger, so we’re going for Kleiner.”

  “Gentlemen,” I said to the South Africans. “It’s late. The goddess Lakshmi has granted you her blessing. Time to turn in.”

  They reluctantly stopped dancing, but smiled at Lakshmi as they broke off. Madame Felicity’s girls escorted them back to their rooms and made sure they went in and shut the doors.

  “The girls are puttin’ ’em to bed. Looks like they’re gonna have it off,” Benjamin said.

  “Benjamin, if they get out of bed and act up again, tell me.”

  �
�You got it, mate.”

  “Hang on,” I said. “Is it just the guests who are tripping? What about everyone else?”

  “Madame Felicity’s girls are all fine. They’re either stayin’ out of the guests’ way or trying to talk ’em down. Some of ’em are even having sex with the clients, or letting the clients watch ’em have sex. That seems to be keepin’ those blokes under control.”

  “What about Roger? Where is he now?”

  “Huh. He’s fast asleep in his bed. Hear him snorin’?” Benjamin said. “Maybe we should tell him what’s happenin’.”

  “What’s the point?” I said. “Roger would just get angry and tell us to do exactly what we’re doing right now. Better to do without him shouting in our ears.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “All right, that’s one less person to worry about,” I said. “What about the others?”

  “Let’s see,” Benjamin said. “Ken and Clive are on the ball. They’re further in the east wing chasin’ down Kleiner. He’s runnin’ around stark-bollock-naked and gibberin’. He should be passin’ you around the corner about . . . now.”

  The strains of Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” grew louder the closer I got to the corner.

  Sure enough, Kleiner ran towards me.

  “Die Walküre!” he was screaming. “Nein! Nein! Ich bin nicht bereit!”

  He was looking over his shoulder at the Valkyrie in her furs and armor, on horseback with her sword drawn, bearing down on him. She was howling her battle cry, her arms massive, her horse breathing fire and brimstone out of its nostrils—

  Kleiner plowed right into me, sent us both arse over tit.

  I rolled on top of his back and sat on him to pin him down until Ken and Clive caught up.

  “Ravi! What the bloody hell’s goin’ on!” Ken cried.

  “Someone’s drugged the guests,” I said.

  The Valkyrie sneered something that I assumed was a swear word in German, turned her horse around, and trotted off down the hall.

  “What’s this one on, then?” Clive asked as he and Ken pulled Kleiner to this feet.

  “Looks like Mark’s magic mushrooms,” I said.

  “Do what?” Ken said.

  “Mark didn’t do this. Someone must have taken them off him and doused the guests.”

  Kleiner was calmer now, but still muttering, “Ich bin nicht bereit.”

  “I think that’s German for ‘I’m not ready,’ ” Clive said.

  “In his mind he’s being chased by a harbinger of death,” I said.

  “He should be so lucky,” Ken said before he and Clive disappeared around the corner with Kleiner. “We’ll give ’em a sedative from the first aid kit. He’ll sleep it off like a baby.”

  “Do you know where the music’s coming from?” I asked.

  “What music?” Clive asked.

  “Never mind,” I said.

  “Come on then,” Ken said to Kleiner. “Off to bed with you.”

  I went back to talking to Benjamin.

  “Can you confirm if it’s only the guests who are wigging out?”

  “Looks that way. Julia’s safe, by the way. She’s fully clothed in the Tories’ room. Mistress Tania and her assistants are tyin’ ’em up and gettin’ ’em under control.”

  “Thanks, Benjamin. What about everyone else?”

  “David was workin’ on his laptop in his room, then turned in. Marcie’s out like a light, catchin’ her beauty sleep.”

  “Marcie’s asleep? That’s unusual. I thought she’d be up looking for us, asking questions, and exchanging gossip.”

  “I can only tell you what I’m seein’, mate.”

  “Where’s Mark?”

  “He’s out in the garden, trippin’ out like he said he was going to do. Havin’ a grand old time from the looks of it.”

  NINE

  I found Mark sitting on a stone bench conferring with Lord Ganesha. Ganesha was nuzzling Mark’s head with his trunk.

  “Ravi!” Mark said. “Ganesha is my new best mate, man!”

  “You can see him, too?”

  “Is this what it’s like for you all the time?”

  “More or less, except I don’t experience slowed time or pretty lights, which I assume you are from the ’shrooms?”

  “Pretty!” Mark said.

  “Mark, we have a problem. Someone’s drugged the guests. They’re all tripping like you are.”

  Mark and Ganesha both looked at me quizzically.

  “I have to ask you this. Did you douse the guests?”

  “Of course not, mate. That goes against my ethics as a psychonaut. I do this because I want to discover things. You have to be prepared for this or it can be traumatic. You don’t douse people if they don’t want it. Nobody should get forced to go on a vision quest.”

  “But didn’t Roger ask you to supply the party with drugs?”

  “Mainly cocaine. Rich folk like these buggers aren’t into magic mushrooms,” Mark said. “They’re more into cocaine and poppers. They come for the sex and the fun. The last thing they want is to discover new insights about themselves.”

  “You did bring an awful lot of mushrooms,” I said.

  “That was in case any of you lot wanted to go spirit-walking with me if things got boring.”

  “Do you still have the rest of the ’shrooms?”

  Mark reached into his pocket, looked puzzled.

  “That’s odd,” he said. “The Baggie’s gone.”

  “Somebody picked your pocket?”

  “Must have done,” Mark said. “I never leave my product lying around. Must have happened after I took my dose.”

  “Mark, I think someone’s trying to sabotage Roger’s weekend here.”

  “An inside job? Seriously?”

  “Unless it’s a bloody ninja who’s been hiding from us all along, it has to be someone here,” I said. “It’s mainly been the guests who were drugged. The rest of us, the girls, the help, we’re sober. Aside from you, and you did it to yourself on purpose.”

  “It’s targeted, so it’s not for shits and giggles,” Mark said. “Who do you think would want to do that?”

  “Someone who has it in for Roger,” I said. “Must be.”

  “But Roger’s offering a business deal to the lot of them that stands to make ’em a shit load of money. Who would have incentive to mess with his plans?”

  “What about Interzone?” I said. “Roger and Collins hate each other’s guts. Maybe Collins thinks he can cut Roger out and take over the deal himself, whatever it is.”

  “That might not be bad for us, though,” Mark said.

  “Might get Roger and us off the hook, yes,” I said. “Here’s another question. If Collins and Ariel wanted to sow chaos, why just douse the guests? Why not douse everyone? Us, the girls, the staff, so everyone’s off their face and freaking out?”

  “Perhaps because there would be too many variables?” Mark said. “Someone could get hurt or worse. Collins’s strategy is controlled chaos. To leave enough of the people here compos mentis is a tactic to leave witnesses, and maybe someone to frame.”

  “I suppose it’s just as well there aren’t more guests,” I said.

  “That’s another thing,” Mark said. “Roger handpicked these prospective investors or partners. DeBeer is in telecom in South Africa, so this could involve infrastructure. Kleiner is in minerals and resources, so that’s probably what they’re all interested in for the return on investment in Roger’s plan. Interzone is muscle, so they’re providing protection. The Tories have access to government ministers, so the government might be in on this. He must have made the pitch through the guests to get some kind of approval, so this business plan could go to the higher reaches of the government, but it’s all hush-hush.”

  “So it’s all about this bloody business plan,” I said. “And Roger wouldn’t show it to us.”

  I had to give it to Mark. Even when completely off his face on powerful hallucinogens and nuzzling a god
with an elephant’s head, his intellect was sharp as ever. Perhaps more so.

  “It’s not even on the computer at the office,” Benjamin said through the Bluetooth. “Olivia and I never got to see it either. What the fuck’s he keepin’ from us? And why? So we can plead innocence?”

  “This business plan is sounding worse and worse the more we think about it,” I said. “And if Interzone wants to nick it off Roger, that could make things even worse, even if we’re off the hook.”

  Mark was already bored and turning his attention back to Ganesha.

  “I get it now, Ravi,” he said.

  “Get what?” I asked.

  “You don’t need drugs to see gods. You’ve never stopped being on a vision quest. This must be what it feels like to be a shaman.”

  “I’m not a bloody shaman!”

  “You don’t choose the role, mate. It chooses you.”

  “Benjamin,” I said on the Bluetooth. “Can you check where the hell Collins is? We have to find him.”

  I left Mark hanging out in the garden with Ganesha and went back in the house.

  Wittingsley was staggering along the hall, leaning on the wall for support.

  “Ah. Mr. Singh. You’ve caught me at a bad time.”

  “What happened?”

  “I think I may have been drugged. Everything’s a bit strange. Time’s slowing down, space is distorting a bit.”

  “I think someone’s drugged the guests.”

  “So I heard. Mr. Lee told me on the intercom.”

  “What happened to your leg?”

  “I came across Mr. Collins a moment ago. He was having a rather bad time of it. Seems he was terrified. I tried to calm him down and take the gun off him but he kicked me in my leg and dislocated my ankle.”

  “Christ, you shouldn’t be on your feet.”

  “I’ve reset it myself, but the swelling could take some time to go down. I have a first aid kit in the kitchen. If you could be so kind as to lend me a hand?”

  I helped him get to the kitchen.

  “Where’s the rest of the staff?” I asked.

  “They’re all asleep in their chambers.”

  “And none of this racket has woken them up?”

  “Evidently not. The walls are quite thick here.”

  Wittingsley took off his shoe and began to wrap his ankle with a bandage from the first aid kit. Batman was out of action for the night.