Chapter 4
Andrassy Estate, Vadsel, Hungary
She was alone in the sterile, white room. Alone, until a door opened and three men entered. Three large men in lab coats as white as the walls.
A woman followed them. An older woman with a lingering smile on her thin lips.
"Good morning, Sasha."
Alex shook her head, "Don't…"
"Oh, Sasha, stop putting up a fight. It's so silly. So futile. And it's not like you. It's not as though it's my fault you're so confused."
Alex saw one of the men draw a syringe, while the two others moved to pin her down.
The smile vanished from Charlotte Devane's lips. "God, I'm so tired of you fighting me instead of working on my side. You're supposed to be my daughter."
The syringe came closer, its tip touching her forearm. Her voice sounded far away to her own ears. "Please, don't…not again."
"No!"
-
"Alex!"
Alex's eyes were wide open now. She caught her breath in the darkness of the room, recoiling when she felt someone grab her arm.
"Darling…it's me…Dimitri."
Alex stared at him, obviously disoriented. She was sitting upright in their bed and threw off the covers to get up, opening the old, heavy window as soon as she got to it.
"I need some air..." Dimitri heard her mumble. Breathless.
He saw her silhouette by the window, in the darkness. She stood there in silence, and he waited, until she was ready to join him again.
Dimitri rubbed her back when she sat back down on the bed. "It was just a dream." He brushed her hair from her face and saw the perspiration on her forehead. "You want to tell me about it?"
He knew what the answer would be before he saw her shake her head in the darkness.
Her nightmares started a few weeks after they arrived at Vadsel.
Dimitri had been convinced that coming here was the best thing for Alex. She felt at home here. At home and at peace, and he'd never seen her as relaxed as when she was here, amidst the horses and the gentle hills that surrounded his paradise.
Before coming here, their relationship had been a roller coaster of chaos and turmoil.
He was dying when they met.
The very first thing he'd asked of her was to save his life; to use her knowledge and determination to give him back his very existence.
Then there was his 'death'. The sudden resurgence of Charlotte Devane. Anna's return to the land of the living and lastly, his cousin, Gillian's, death.
'We never even had a honeymoon,' he thought, in hindsight. 'You saved my life and I didn't even give you a honeymoon.'
But it was when things finally calmed down that her demons came back to haunt her.
The first time she had a nightmare, Alex had woken up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, tears streaming down her face.
The sight of her that night had worried him and broken his heart all at once. It wasn't fair. The past was behind them now. It had no right to come roaring back like this.
Not knowing what else to do, he'd held her that night. His arms fell asleep before she did and Dimitri had been confident that his love for her could overcome any obstacle no matter how great.
Yet the nightmares didn't go away. No matter how much he loved her. Or how happy they were. Sometimes they came several times a week, other times, once or twice a month. Because he'd always been a man of action and couldn't do a single thing to help her, he felt as frustrated as Alex. Maybe more so.
"Darling, you have to do something," he'd told her one night, not long ago. Because she was crying, his words had been gentle. Soothing.
"They'll stop," was all she said then, pulling a blanket over her body. Shivering. It was partly true. They did stop but they always came back. And their hold on her was starting to take its toll.
"Alex, these nightmares, they're making you sick." It was the truth. Some nights he'd watch her run off to the bathroom as soon as she woke up.
"They'll stop." It was what she always said. Dimitri wondered whom she was trying to convince: him or herself.
Tonight was further proof that they didn't stop.
"What did you dream?" he asked her.
She stared past him, into space. "I was at the institution. The one where I was kept for such a long time…and Charlotte was…I couldn't make sense of anything. I didn't know where I was or why I was there…and the men, they…" She started to cry, burying her face in her hands. "Dimitri, I can't…"
Dimitri frowned, hating his helplessness. He put an arm around her shoulders. "It's alright."
"I'm sorry."
He shook his head, "Don't…don't apologize for this, Alex."
He watched as she got up and threw off the bedcover, a hand over her mouth as she ran out of the bedroom. Dimitri frowned when she came back, paler than when she left. "Darling…you okay?"
"Better."
Dimitri gave her a gentle push back onto the bed, covering her with a blanket when he saw she was still shivering.
"Do you want me to get you some tea or water?"
Alex shook her head.
"It might help your stomach."
"I'm fine, really."
He ran a hand through her hair in the darkness. "You're not fine."
Alex turned towards him, her eyes letting him know what she couldn't put into words. That she was grateful. "I will be," she answered softly.
"I want to help you, Alex."
Alex reached for him. "I don't know how I ever lived without you."
"You won't ever have to again."
"You want me to see a shrink, don't you?"
"I didn't say that. I said I want to help you."
"I won't go."
"I won't force you." Dimitri moved a hand under her chin, insisting her eyes met his. She had to know he was on her side. "I promise you." After he married her, Dimitri had asked her the impossible; to keep his illness from his family, to tell them he had died if need be. Anything to keep them from seeing him as a lifeless shell of his former self.
Even though it had made her an instant enemy to his brother Edmund, Alex had followed his wishes and kept her promise. It might not have been the kind thing, the logical thing or even the right thing to do but it was what he needed in order to retain a semblance of dignity. And because Alex had done that for him, he'd sworn to himself that he'd never do anything less for her.
If she didn't want professional help, Dimitri wouldn't press. He'd find another way to help her.
Alex didn't know it, but he had gone to consult a psychiatrist on his own. The doctor in question was an old family friend; a pillar of discretion who had counselled several Maricks and many other members of Hungarian royalty in years past.
His name was Andras Horvath and he sported glasses and a thick white beard. He'd greeted Dimitri with a smile the day he'd gone to see him.
"Count Andrassy, it's such a pleasure to see you looking so well. Prince Bela informed me of your illness. For a while my wife and I feared the worst."
Dimitri returned his smile then. "You're not the only one. There were a lot of physicians who wouldn't give me a life expectancy of more than a few months. But then I went to London and found a new doctor."
"So I heard. Dr. Alexandra Devane, pioneer in stem cell research…"
"It's Doctor Marick now."
The old man lifted his glasses, broadening his smile; "Yes, I heard that as well. Congratulations are in order."
Dimitri sat down. "Thank you. Had the wedding been a little less spontaneous, you can be certain you would have been on the guest list."
The doctor's expression turned serious. "So what brings you here today, Count Andrassy?"
"Please. Call me Dimitri. I've lived in the United States too long for such formalities. I'm not here for myself," he admitted. "I'm here for my wife."
The old man clasped his hands and gave Dimitri a puzzled look. "Your wife?"
"She's been having these nightmares. They wake her up in the middle of the night, terrified and I don't know what to do…how to help her stop them."
"They've been going on how long?"
"A few months."
"Did your wife have any traumatic experiences before they began."
"Not...immediately prior, no. A long time ago her mother committed her to an institution. The entire time period is a blank for her. I don't believe her mother was ever justified for commiting her to an institution, but Alex isn't convinced. She has this... fear. This fear that she lost her mind once and that it could happen again." It was ironic that Alex, one of the world's leading experts on diseases that afflicted the mind, had no greater fear than losing control of her own.
The old man leaned back in his well-worn leather chair. "I'm not sure what to tell you, Dimitri. In order to help your wife, I need to see her, talk to her. I'm a psychiatrist not a psychic."
Dimitri managed a smile. "I know…this must seem like an unusual request. But she won't come here and I respect her wishes."
"You can tell her I don't bite."
"You see…for her, coming to see you would be like admitting that she is losing her mind."
The doctor ran a hand through his beard looking at Dimitri pensively. "The mind is a complex machine, Dimitri, I'm sure your wife would be the first to agree with me when I say that. Sometimes it protects us from the things we're incapable of dealing with, erasing them from our memories until we're strong enough to handle them. The fact that she's remembering something she buried long ago, even if it is in the form of nightmares, might mean that she's able to deal with the past now. It certainly doesn't mean she's ready for a straight jacket and a padded cell."
Dimitri managed a chuckle. "Good…glad to hear it. But until then...until I convince her of that fact, I need to know if there's anything I can do for her…anything at all."
"I can prescribe a sedative for her, something to help her sleep…but without having seen her, I'd prefer not to."
"I understand..." Dimitri interrupted him. "I'm not even sure she'd want that. But in the meantime, there has to be something I can do for her."
The old man hesitated, his gaze still pensive. "Well...think of the things that take her mind off the past. Things that fulfill her and make her happy."
"She wants to practice medicine, but she's not licensed here and frankly…" Dimitri paused, with a smirk. "No matter how hard she tries, I don't think she'll ever speak Hungarian."
"Your wife is an exceptional researcher. I haven't read her works simply because her field is not in my league, but her reputation precedes her. It would be a crime not to have her practice, research or teach."
The man's words had made him wonder then whether he'd been selfish to bring Alex to a country where she'd be able to do none of the above.
"There are other things she's passionate about, yes?"
"Sure…she likes to help her niece with her medical studies, and horses. She also loves the horses as much as I do."
"Well then, use those things to get her mind off whatever is troubling her…and if that doesn't work, do bring her in next time, will you?"
Dimitri chuckled. "Maybe if she knew just how charming you were, she wouldn't protest quite so much."
The psychiatrist had laughed. "You tell her that. And remind her that even the best doctors need help in healing sometimes."
"Will do. Thank you, doctor."
The old man's words played in his head tonight.
Think of the things that can take her mind off the past. Things that fulfill her and make her happy.
Dimitri bent down to kiss the nape of his wife's neck, content to see that the gesture brought the hint of a smile to her lips and a trace of colour back into her face, "I was thinking…the black yearling we looked at with Joszef a little while ago. Do you remember him?"
"The one you want to sell?"
"Tempus Fugit, yes. I think I've decided to keep him."
"Hmm…what made you change your mind?" She turned on her back to face him, her voice steadier now.
Dimitri shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure. Just a gut instinct that there's something special about him."
"I thought breaking him was going to take too much time?"
Dimitri closed his eyes, wondering if he'd regret what he was about to suggest. "Do you really think you could do it?" he asked her, already knowing she wouldn't give him the answer he wanted to hear.
"Oh yes...definitely."
It was what he expected. And dreaded. Yet in spite of his qualms, he liked the sudden determination in her eyes. It was a look he knew all too well.
Alex smiled and pulled him towards her. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better now and then you'll change your mind in the morning, are you?"
Dimitri grinned. "No…and yes…I won't change my mind in the morning, even if I hate the idea. I'm good for my word, you know that."
Alex kissed him. "You are. I love you. So much."
He let her embrace him, moving his hand to turn off the bedside lamp. "I know. Come here..." He felt her relax in his arms, her body soft and warm against his and the beating of her heart slowing in the silence of the room.
He was keeping the demons at bay. For another day.
Paris, France
Robin yawned when she stepped out into the living room, her eyes focused on her mother sleeping on the sofa. At night it converted into a pull out bed, but Robin soon noticed that her mother rarely bothered to pull it out. Instead she usually slept with her head against the armrest, her knees pulled up against her stomach. Often, as was the case this morning, she didn't even bother to change into a nightgown.
"That can't possibly be good for you or for the baby. How can you get a good night's rest like that?"
She caught her mother moving a subconscious hand towards her stomach as if wanting to protect her unborn child. The gesture didn't surprise Robin.
"That's so typical of you, Mom…" Her mother had a fiercely protective streak. She never hesitated to risk everything in order to keep those she loved from harm, even at her own expense. Her mother was strong and fearless; two intrinsic qualities she shared with her father and Robin had spent her childhood firmly believing that nothing could ever bring her parents down. Nothing. Until the day both of them didn't come back home.
Dead.
"And then my world turned upside down."
She moved to cover her mother with the blanket that had begun a slow slide towards the floor, when suddenly she heard the phone ring. Robin jumped to answer it, hoping to catch it before the second ring, so as not to wake her mom.
No such luck. It rang again and Robin saw her mother stir into wakefulness.
She picked up the receiver and answered in French. 'Allo?' The voice on the other end made her straighten her spine in anticipation of the upcoming interrogation.
David Hayward.
"I told you my Mom's not here…you know I can't tell you that…of course I know." Robin moved a finger towards her lips, motioning for her mother to stay still. "Look, she's not here! Sure you can come and check for yourself. Be my guest. Waste your time and your money. If she wanted to talk to you she would. Trust me."
Robin's expression changed as she held the receiver against her ear.
"Fine…fine, I will. But please don't call here anymore."
Anna bit her fingernail when she saw Robin put down the receiver. "David?"
Robin smirked. "How'd you guess?"
"Thanks for that." Anna sat up and pulled the wayward blanket towards her shoulders.
Robin leaned against the wall. "You don't have to thank me, Mom. He wanted me to tell you that he loves you. He says he needs to talk to you and that there are things you need to know." Robin tried to read the expression on her mother's face. "And for what it's worth, he sounded sincere."
"I bet he did."
"If you decided to start a family, you must have loved each other," Robin argued. "Isn't there still some way you could work things out?"
Anna shook her head. "Sometimes love isn't enough. Some things can't be forgiven."
"What did he do that was so bad?"
Anna wasn't willing to go there. Not now. "Please, let's not talk about David. I want to know how you're feeling this morning."
Robin eyed her mother. "I'm fine. I told you I was just tired last night."
"You didn't look, 'just tired', Robin."
"Really that's all it was. Just because I'm HIV positive doesn't mean every time I'm stressed or get a headache I'm going to die. I have midterms coming up in less than a month. All that studying is tiring."
"I know but…" She noticed a look of exasperation make its way into Robin's expression and she stopped in mid sentence.
Anna also noticed that Robin had her backpack in hand. "Are you heading out already?"
Robin nodded. "Yup. I'll see you later tonight."
"What about breakfast?"
"I'll stop at a café on Rue des Lapins."
"I could make you something…"
Robin made a face. "Now just because you're puking all day doesn't mean you have to subject me to…"
Anna threw a pillow at her. "Funny."
The action elicited a laugh from her daughter.
"Seriously, sweetie. You should eat something."
"I don't have time, Mom." She was already halfway out the door. "I'll see you later."
"Will you let me take you out for dinner then?"
"I can't tonight. Maybe tomorrow."
She was gone before Anna had a chance to say anything else.
An elaborately framed picture of a thoroughbred horse stared back at her instead. It hung next to the apartment door. A gift from Alex.
'Maybe you could explain to me why my daughter's avoiding me like the plague?' she asked the horse.
Anna smiled a lopsided smile. Although in her former days she attended a fair share of races and could decipher racing forms as well as anyone, she knew next to nothing about horses. Standard bred, quarter horse, thoroughbred…they were all just ponies to her.
'I'm not sure I could tell an Arabian apart from a Lipizaner…' Riding was just one more thing at which her sister excelled.
"It's an elegant sport and it suits you perfectly, sis," she whispered aloud.
A glimpse of the phone made her want to pick it up and call her sister. She hadn't spoken to Alex in well over a week and knew it was her turn to make the call.
I could really use yet another person telling me how misguided I was to marry David Hayward
"Stop it," she chided herself aloud. "Give her some credit, would you? She's been close to Robin. Maybe she can give you some insight on her."
Since when did she need someone else to figure out her own daughter?
She started to dial her sister's number, but stopped herself mid-way.
Alex had always been the wiser of the two of them. For every wrong choice Anna made, Alex made the right one. A noble career, an adoring husband. Doctor, healer, scientist. Alexandra Marick might have been her mirror image, but at times it seemed like she was her polar opposite.
'She loves you,' Anna reminded herself. 'So much so that she risked everything to help you leave Canada and find your way back home.'
Anna adored her sister. Admired her, respected her…the list could go on. She also felt a sincere pride for her achievements.
'My beautiful, brilliant big sis. All I do is complicate your life with my problems and my sordid past.' Anna wasn't sure that Alex was older; in fact certain pieces of evidence made her suspect the opposite. It just seemed as though she should be, even if she wasn't.
Anna owed her a call. Owed her more than that, really.
Instead she picked up the phone and dialled another newly familiar number.
"Hey it's me…how are you?"
Sean Donely was on the other end. His easy humour relaxed her instantly.
"No…not quite," she laughed. "I dare you to come here and learn French in a month. Sure you could. So you say."
"You did? Oh god, that's great news…yes, yes. Give me a second, I have to find a pen." She felt her nausea rise as soon as she stood up. "Yes…I'm ready…" Anna wrote down the address he gave her, a smile on her face.
Liaison Officer for Scotland Yard's Paris office. It would be a desk job. For now. As much as she hated the thought of spending her time in an office, she had to admit it was all her difficult pregnancy could handle for the time being. Working alongside both Scotland Yard and Interpol would allow her back into the world of international law enforcement and intelligence. It required only conversational French, and most importantly it would keep her in Paris, close to her daughter.
'Once I get my life in order, I can concentrate on Robin. And maybe then… I can begin to figure her out again.'
Paris, France
"She's here."
Cesar Faison made the observation while staring out the window of his combined apartment and office.
He held a near empty glass of cognac in his hand and raised the gold coloured liquid up against the sunset in the horizon. The last rays of the sun lit up the liqueur, as though it was on fire. The sight made him smile, as did the Eiffel Tower in the distance.
In Paris, finding a viable apartment was akin to winning the lottery. Finding one with a view of the city's most famous structure was much more than that. It was a status symbol, like living in London and having a Bentley parked in the driveway. In the City of Lights it meant you were someone.
"Pardon me?" Jan Hallstrom, his personal assistant and right hand man, pulled a magnifying glass away from his eyes and looked at Faison.
"Is said, 'she's here'. In Paris."
"Who?"
"Anna Devane."
The Swede rolled a tiny diamond between his thumb and index finger, before turning to give Faison a sceptical look. "We knew that, from the day she arrived, over a month ago."
"Having her here…so close. It changes everything," Faison explained.
"We can relocate to our Brussels office until she leaves, if her being here makes things difficult for you," he suggested.
"Difficult isn't the word I was thinking of." He paused, wanting to put into words the inexplicable. "I feel her presence."
Jan sighed an inaudible sigh. Cesar Faison was a brilliant man and Anna Devane was his one weakness. His one downfall. For that alone, Jan hated her.
"It makes me realize how much I miss her…"
"She tried to kill you," Jan reminded him.
"Anna has changed. I've changed."
"But circumstances haven't." Jan knew where this was headed and cringed.
"I want to see her."
Jan's eyes widened, "That's not possible. You know that."
Cesar Faison turned around, his expression sombre, "I didn't ask you to see her. I said I want to see her." He cared for Jan as much as he was capable of caring for anyone. He appreciated the man's wisdom, as well as his steadfast loyalty, and he would never have tolerated such an outright admonishment from anyone else. Yet even Jan needed an occasional reminder that he wasn't his equal.
Jan nodded, sadly. "I know you do…but we both know you can't." He poured the diamonds back into their silk pouch. "Maybe I should start making plans to move to Brussels…"
"No."
"It would be for the best."
"I want to see her."
Jan's fear mounted. "You can't. The deal. You made a deal."
Cesar frowned at its mention. It was dark outside now, the sun had sunk into the horizon like a heavy, red globe into quicksand.
He set down his now empty cognac glass on the windowsill. His frown deepened, creasing both sides of his scarred, aging face.
"Perhaps it's time to break the deal."
