“Daughters are different. I cannot explain how, but although Mother loved us all immensely, she had a special bond with Alexei which had nothing to do with either his health or his being the Tsarevich.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“You will see, when she arrives.”
“If you say so. Are you sure you want to meet her? Haven’t you had enough trauma in your life?”
Ana flicked his ear with her finger.
“Ouch!”
“Mr. Powell, I certainly hope you are not comparing your lovely mother to the Bolshevik bastards who butchered my family. I do not care how cruel you think your mother has been over the years, there is no comparison.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Good. Now relax while I massage the lumps on your head.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s ‘Yes, your Highness’, Mister Powell.” She kissed his brow and then massaged his skull with such delicate skill that he soon drifted off. When he finally awoke, Ana was watching The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey. From his sideways position, it looked like the adventurers were just leaving Rivendell. Jerry sat up slowly.
“Jerry, I want to be an elf.” She paused the movie.
“An elf?”
“Galadriel is so full of grace and beauty. A true royal who would be perfectly at home in any royal court I have ever visited.”
“She’s a good choice, but I think you’re more like Arwen, an elf from The Lord of the Rings. In those movies, she’s a brave, fearless warrior who would do anything for her true love. I always felt that Galadriel had a dark side that gave me the creeps, made me uncomfortable.” He picked up the laptop, checked the charge on the battery, then took it to the desk where he plugged it in and turned it on.
“Then I must watch The Lord of the Rings next.”
Jerry laughed, kindly. “There are two more movies within The Hobbit trilogy, which adds up to about six more hours of viewing because I’m a fool for owning only the extended director’s cuts. The Lord of the Rings trilogy runs a little over nine hours, too, so you may need to take a break in there somewhere. Even I couldn’t watch them all straight through, from beginning to end, in one sitting. I’ve tried a couple times.”
“Eighteen hours, for two stories? Oh my.”
“Two stories that are really just one story, split into two, with a fifty or sixty year gap in the middle, and a different hero for each part.”
She sighed. “This could take quite some time.”
“True enough, but it would take you longer to read the books.”
“There are books for these films? They must be as long as War and Peace. It is a good thing they never made a film of War and Peace—it would go on for days.”
“They did, quite a few times. There was a mini-series that ran something like fifteen or twenty hours that we had to watch in History class. I slept through most of it.” He logged onto one of the discount-travel-booking websites, quickly realized that he would need his credit card.
“That is quite understandable. It was required reading for us as well, and I remember falling asleep numerous times, struggling with Tolstoy’s lumbering prose.” She watched Jerry sit, then get up for his wallet, and then sit back down again at the computer. “What are you doing, Love?”
“Booking the flights and hotel for Mom, Carole, and Jean-Marc. I know my mother is old-fashioned, but I hope she can deal with Carole and Jean-Marc sharing a room.”
“I am certain she will be fine with it, but if she is not, from what I observed of your sister, Carole will convince your mother otherwise.” She turned back to the fifty-inch screen. “Will it distract you if I continue to watch the movie?”
“No. Go ahead. This will only take a few minutes but I just need to pay attention to what I’m doing.”
“Thank you.” She restarted the movie and Jerry returned to the task at hand. He cringed when the final total for the tickets came up, but it was important, and it wasn’t like he had anything else to do with his money. Then Ana giggled at something on the screen and he remembered that he still needed to provide for her in some way. At least he assumed he’d have to. He had no idea if her being “awake” was linked to him or whether she was independent now and whether he lived or died made no difference to what happened to her. The idea that the two of them could both be bound to the book and spend eternity exploring the world had a certain bizarre appeal.
Once the airline tickets and hotel rooms were booked, he forwarded the email confirmations to all three of Jean-Marc, Carole, and his mother, then printed off a copy for backup. The streets of Victoria were still being pounded by the rain, so he abandoned the hope of a walk and returned to the couch.
THEY MANAGED TO make it to the end of An Unexpected Journey, but Jerry could see that Ana was starting to flicker and fade, and he was doing his own living version of the same, so before she could even suggest watching the second movie he shut off the Blu-Ray player and the screen. “We’re both done in, Sweetie, so let’s call it a night. We can pick this up tomorrow after we’ve both recharged our batteries.”
She flopped her head on his shoulder. “You are a very smart man, Jeremy Powell. I think that is the most excellent suggestion I have heard all day. As a matter of fact—” She faded so quickly that they were both caught off-guard. Her clothes collapsed into a pile on the couch. Jerry picked her things up, confirmed that the book was in the hoodie’s pouch, then took everything and placed it on the bed. After a moment he changed his mind and draped them over the divider screen before shuffling off to the bathroom.
THERE WAS A window open somewhere. Jerry could smell the ozone and dampness, and feel the chill. There was smoke, too. At this rate he’d freeze to death before the cancer killed him.
“For crying out loud, can’t a man get some goddamned sleep without some moron setting the place on fire and trying to freeze him out?!” He dragged his ass out of bed, grabbed his robe, and charged straight to the window on the far side of the loft, overlooking the street. He slammed it shut and spun around to confront Ana. His head throbbed and the sudden motion made him want to puke. Though everything was a blur, he could make out someone sitting on the couch, watching him. He wanted to tell them to stop being an idiot, but suddenly he was more interested in keeping his belly still and stopping the pounding in his head. He flopped in the nearest chair.
“Enough of the pain already. Just let me die in goddamned peace.”
“Gladly, but not until you give me Anastasia’s book.” It was a man’s voice. One Jerry thought he recognized. “Once you do that, I’ll even help you along to whatever afterlife you wish. Heaven, Valhalla, Fields of Auru… whatever.”
Jerry squinted but could only make out thick dark hair and a goatee. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my home?”
“Give me Anastasia’s book, and you won’t need to worry about who I am.” There was a metal-on-metal sound like gears, or like the hammer of a revolver being cocked.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. If you want a book, go to the damned library, but leave your gun at home.”
“You’re being a smart ass, facing down the barrel of a .38 Special? I mistook you for a much smarter man, Jerry.”
“Nervous reaction. Sorry.” Was he dreaming? Where was Ana and why was this killer sitting on his couch wanting her book? “What’s so important about this book that you break into my house and point a gun at me?” His eyes were starting to focus, but his headache was tearing him a new lobe, so there was no way he was going to put up any kind of fight. His only hope was to play dumb, which wasn’t much of a stretch right now.