The big brown eyes were staring blankly into space. “He’s screaming. Says she cheated. It’s awful, but the tailor ignores it.”
Christ. “Come back.” Arthur grabbed Rory’s hand in his own and squeezed, hard, hard enough to hurt. “Come backnow.”
Rory gasped. His eyes widening and he looked at Arthur like he was seeing him for the first time.
A shiver shot down Arthur’s spine and over his skin, like static electricity, leaving goose bumps in its path. “That’s right, sweetheart,” he said, through clenched teeth, holding on despite his prickling skin. “You come out of the past and youstay out.”
Rory screwed his eyes shut. “What’s the year?”
“You’re in 1925.” Arthur squeezed his hand until Rory’s eyes flew open with another pained gasp. “And you’re going to damn well stay here.”
He stood, pulling Rory upright with him, and kept a vise-like grip on that hand as he maneuvered them until his arm was around Rory’s waist. The slight body was almost dead weight against him.Don’t think the d-word. You’re going to fix this.
Benson was hurrying over. “Help,” Arthur said baldly. “A private exit, a private car, and no one asking questions.”
Benson’s gaze flicked over Rory. “Lightweight?” he said easily, but his eyes belied the concern.Is he like Jade?
Arthur gave a quick nod. “And young,” he said, worry making his voice sharp. “You hear that, Rory? You’re young and foolish and—”
And a bad person tried to take advantage.
Arthur gritted his teeth. “I need to take him somewhere safe.”
Benson grabbed Rory’s hat off the ground and Arthur’s briefcase from under the chair. He said a word to a passing waiter, then he was leading Arthur to the back. Arthur practically had to carry Rory, feeling the stares as they awkwardly staggered through the club. He ought to throw Rory over his shoulder, it’d be easier than all this stumbling—
But being carried would also make it easier for Rory to slip away again. As if to prove the point, his head lolled against Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur shook him. “Tell me who and where you are,” he ordered Rory, as Benson took them through a door and past the dressing room.
“You’re very strong,” Rory said instead. “Strong and bossy.”
“Strong and bossy enough to handle a mouthy brat who defies the laws of man and nature.” Arthur had to believe that was true. He had to make it true. He yanked Rory closer with their interlocked hands. “Now stay out of those visions and tell me your name.”
Rory blinked up at him, brown eyes hazy and shiny with drink. “Which one?”
What?
Chapter Seven
Arthur had no time to follow up on Rory’s strange statement as Benson opened the Magnolia’s side door and led them into the snowy alley. A freezing wind sliced between the buildings as Arthur squinted into the headlights of the cab coming their way.
“Jade wasn’t hiding in there, was she?” he asked Benson, who shook his head.
Damnation. The car pulled to a stop in front of them, and Benson held the back door wide. “If she turns up,” said Arthur, as he took the cap and briefcase from Benson, “will you ask her to come see me?”
“Right away, Ace.”
With a tight nod of gratitude, Arthur half lifted Rory to stuff him into the back seat, awkward as hell because he couldn’t let go of Rory’s hand. He scrambled in after him, hunching to fit in the small space and still managing to knock his head on the roof.
“Upper West Side,” he told the cab driver, and gave his address. Rory had slumped into the seat and closed his eyes, so Arthur gave the hand he held another vicious squeeze. “Don’t even think of going back into that head,” he said, over Rory’s indignant yelp.
“Ow,” Rory said, drunk and sulky, and tried to squirm away to the other side of the back seat. “Screw off.”
“Not a chance.” Arthur had an advantage of six inches, forty pounds, and a head not addled by brandy and paranormality. “You’re going to hold on to yourself.”
Rory made a broken sound. “I dunno if I can.”
Arthur’s heart lurched. “Then you hold on to me,” he snapped, “because I won’t let go. I’m going to anchor you to the present and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
Christ, Rory looked so vulnerable, glasses askew, blond curls tumbling around his face. Arthur held his hand tight and tried to think.
