In Icarus' Shadow Read online

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  Nadia looked at her watch. It was no longer on her wrist, she had placed it on the polished surface of the wooden table in front of her so she would stop checking the time every couple of seconds. She sighed as she found herself reaching for it again, but did not stop herself from picking it up. Slipping it back onto her wrist, she checked the time for the hundredth time that morning, but frowned at what she saw. 10:25 AM. Nearly half-past the hour? She felt her throat clench. She knew that Thomas and Black should have arrived by now. It wasn't rush hour and traffic was usually tolerable on a Saturday morning. Something was wrong, she was somehow certain. She stood and began to pace, but stopped as the door slowly opened.

  Nadia turned at the noise, hopeful. "Thomas? Is that... you..."

  She trailed off as the hulking shape of Tyrone Burgess entered the room, closing the door behind him. He was dressed in an expensive-looking custom-made suit and seemed almost to fit the surroundings; except for the brass knuckles he was slipping on from his pocket, of course. "No. No it isn't."

  Nadia gaped for a moment, then took in a struggling breath. "Burgess. Why... how... What did you do with Thomas?"

  Burgess smiled, flashing her a glimpse of ivory-white teeth. "Had my boys meet him, so he's well taken care of. But let's not talk about him; let's talk about you. I was kind enough to send you a heads up, but you just keep sticking your nose further into things that aren't your business. Can't you take a hint, lady?"

  She swallowed hard, but mustered her nerve anyway. "I'm a reporter. We don't just give up because someone says we should, you know."

  He chuckled darkly, sliding one of the smaller tables along the side of the room in front of the door as easily as she might sweep dust with a broom. "You've got guts, at least. I like that."

  Suddenly remembering her cellphone, Nadia slowly began moving her hand into her purse. She had to keep his attention on talking for at least a minute if she wanted to call without tipping him off. "Thanks, I guess. So why don't you tell me why you needed me shut up, hmm? I've been wondering about it more than anything lately. My original investigation was a joke to everyone I mentioned it to, but you took the time to send a thug to chase me off of it. Why?"

  Burgess laughed again. "You think I know, lady? I have my orders, too; and they said to shut you up."

  She looked at him skeptically, while silently unlatching her bag. "What, a man like you is satisfied with just doing as he's told? I find that hard to believe, Burgess."

  His smile became a thin one. "Maybe. Let's put it this way; someone looking hard enough for something that ain't there can still dredge up plenty of other things that are. Schedules. Meetings. I hear you followed a few corporate executives for days at a time for a while. That doesn't seem like 'paranormal investigation' to me."

  Nadia blushed deeply at the reminder. She had done some research during her final year of college and found some business executives that had odd schedules that kept them active mostly at night. She had taken a few weeks after graduation to follow them in the hopes of discovering proof of their being vampires; much to her embarrassment when she learned their cooking staff had been given no orders to avoid garlic. It was not something she made a point of dwelling on or telling others about and, frankly, she felt stupid about it now. "Uh, well... it was."

  Burgess laughed quietly. "Like you said; I find that hard to believe. Either way, though, my employer didn't much appreciate the idea that you could be poking your nose into important individuals' schedules. You've been labelled as a threat, lady. I deal with threats."

  Nadia felt the heat in her face chill quickly. Her hand closed around her phone and she flipped it open as inconspicuously as she could. Pressing the speed dial button, she waited a few agonizing seconds as she gave the police time to pick up. When she could wait no longer, she whipped it to her ear and almost danced when she heard a voice on the other end.

  "9-1-1, please state your name and the nature of your emergency."

  Burgess growled as he saw the young woman produce the phone and adjusted his knuckles as he started toward her. Nadia, of course, could not help but see him begin to approach and began circling the long boardroom table to keep him at a distance.

  "Yes, this is Nadia Lawson, I'm at the Lord Elgin Hotel and I'm in danger of being assaulted by a man named Tyrone Burgess."

  "The Lord Elgin Hotel? Yes ma'am, we will notify building security immediately and police should arrive shortly. Which room are you staying in?"

  "I'm not a guest, I'm using the Laurier Room and he's blocked the door with a table. Please hurry!"

  "Yes ma'am. Please stay on the line to keep us advised of the situation."

  Nadia's reply died in her throat as Burgess picked up one of the black, wheel-sporting swivel-chairs tucked in at the table; in one hand no less, as though it weighed nothing. She yelped as she dove out of the way of the large projectile and threw the phone into her purse as she scrambled back to her feet.

  "You're insane!"

  Her aggressor grinned fiercely as he answered. "You're one to talk, lady. I'm not the one who called the police while trapped in a room with a man twice my size, now am I?"

  Nadia kept circling the table to keep away from the big man, dodging the odd thrown object with luck and nimble feet, but she knew her luck was running out when Burgess finally tired of the game and overturned the table, sending the floral centrepieces arranged upon it crashing to the floor. Bracing himself behind it, he pushed it forward like a football player performing drills and ploughed forward towards her. Attempting to slow him, Nadia pushed several of his thrown chairs into his path, but he didn't seem to so much as slow down. On the verge of proper panic, she backed into a corner and squeezed past the table. Ducking under the grasp of his massive hands, she fled to the opposite side of the room, panting and rapidly running out of ideas. Remembering her improvised instrument of self-defence, she fumbled in her purse for the aerosol-form air freshener and brandished it as threateningly as she could. The giant lumbered toward her, laughing at the small can in her hand; he seized one of the chairs again, holding it like a combination shield and club.

  "The security guards will be here any second, Burgess! Don't you try anything!" She winced at the fear in her voice, knowing she sounded as far from threatening as it was possible to be. She also knew she was trying to reassure herself more than frighten him.

  He guffawed, seeming quite amused by her claim. "What do you take me for, lady? An amateur? I wasn't going to come strolling in here without thinking of these things. My men have replaced your precious security guards for the day and even coming from just down the street, the cops won't be here for a few minutes."

  Nadia silently swore to herself, backing further into the corner with only her apparently inadequate weapon to defend herself with. This was not at all what she had had in mind when she had pictured herself spraying punks in the eyes; the man was too large for her to get close enough to spray his face without him getting a hold on her.

  Seeing her frustration and growing panic, Burgess smiled in triumphant satisfaction. "You're a pretty thing, though. It's a shame I have to ruin that face of yours. You could have come to work for me; you would be surprised by the sorts of connections I've got that appreciate good looks."

  She curled her lip in disgust. "Not on your life. You're not laying a finger on me, Burgess; I don't care if that does put me in line for a beating. I'm sick and tired of scum like you making these half-baked passes at me. It is not happening."

  He chuckled. "Suit yourself, lady. Could have saved yourself some pain. Ah well." He advanced toward her slowly now, blocking her avenues of escape through sheer size. They could hear sirens wailing now and Nadia felt a tiny spark of hope when the big man paused. The spark grew to a flicker when the door suddenly began opening and the table was pushed ahead of it. Vaulting the table, a man entered the room, landing lightly on his feet. He was dressed in a policeman's uniform, complete with bulletproof vest, but Na
dia saw a gleam in his eye and a swagger in his step that gave her the nagging suspicion that he wasn't any more a policeman than she was.

  The new arrival nodded curtly to the dark skinned giant. "Burgess."

  The big man's expression faltered as he turned from Nadia. "Black. How did you get in here, past my boys?"

  The smaller fellow smirked, producing a gun from his belt. Nadia noted that the weapon sported a silencer and that Black wore gloves on his hands. "Took care of them. Nice and quiet."

  Burgess frowned, looking genuinely displeased for the first time since his arrival. "Unfortunate. They were actually competent, too. But they were posing as security guards; you've just made yourself a cop killer, more or less."

  Black shook his head. "No, I've just made you a cop killer, Burgess. It's your gun. I nicked it out of your car before I came in. Your reputation for taking care of people with your fists is well-known. While I doubt very much that you carry a legally registered firearm, the police will be here any minute and I'm assuming they know you're here already."

  He glowered down at the smaller man. "You're really becoming a thorn in my side, you know."

  Said mercenary tipped his 'borrowed' policeman's hat in return. "No more than you became one in mine, Burgess. Having your 'boys' combing the city for me makes it awfully hard for me to work on the wrong side of the law. So I figure we're square."

  Growling, Burgess turned to glare at Nadia. "You get to be lucky. This time. But we'll meet again, I'm sure." Skirting around Black and his at-the-ready firearm, he shifted the table aside and disappeared into the hall.

  Nadia sighed in relief, then looked to Black. "Thank you."

  He shrugged. "I didn't do it for you, Lawson. This whole situation was because of an unexpected delay on my mission to take care of you. The fact you're still breathing suggests a vast reserve of luck on your part. The police will be here any second, so I'll be leaving." He placed the gun on the floor and turned toward the door. "Tell them it's the murder weapon for the guards downstairs. Burgess' prints may or may not be on it, but he'll probably lay low for at least a few days to avoid drawing attention to himself and that should keep him off both our backs for a while."

  As her reluctant saviour slipped out, Nadia sunk to her knees and took a moment just to be thankful that she was alive and unharmed. The police arrived mere moments after Black's disappearance and she found herself whisked to the station to describe what had happened. It all passed in a haze, but she made sure they knew the gun belonged to Burgess. It was the truth, after all, whether she wanted to cooperate with Black or not. Finally released, she hurried back to her apartment as soon as she could.

  The fact that her front door was not locked was a cause for concern. Entering, she saw the place had been overturned and sighed at the amount of work she would have to put in to clean it all up. Much worse, though, was that there was no sign of Thomas; that put a chill into her bones more than any mess could. Moving her coffee table off of her couch, she reconnected her phone and made some calls; to acquaintances, to hospitals, to anyone she could think of. With the search started, she took a few minutes to sit back and just breathe. The full scope of events hit her in the midst of this, though and she found herself crying. Her new friend - pretty much her only friend, she admitted to herself - was missing and probably injured. Her apartment was trashed and she could see her computer was broken, meaning her information was very possibly lost. She had not had a chance to speak at length with Black and the meeting had been a set-up anyway. Her investigation was at a standstill. She, and possibly her family, was in danger; Thomas could very well be dead already. And it was all because of her stupid story. Burying her face in her hands, she let her feelings vent themselves out until she slipped into a a fitful sleep on the couch; the phone remained silent beside her throughout the night.