The Angry Flame
By Divamercury
Chapter 16
The only good thing about having been in the hospital for a week, other than Ian's visits, was the fact that Dante wasn't driving me crazy. He actually gave me another week off with pay to let me recuperate. When he called me to inform me of this, I knew that the whole time he was wishing that the wound had been fatal. Well, some extra time off certainly didn't hurt.
After cleaning up my apartment and resembling a vegetable for about two hours, I chose to get out of the rooms I owned and get a little exercise. I slipped my gun into the side holster underneath my disabled left arm, my badge in the pocket of my leather jacket, and left the apartment, locking the door behind me.
I decided to make a cameo at the small coffee shop near my home, for the dinner hour had arrived and I was famished. I ordered a sandwich and some coffee and took a seat at a tiny bistro table near the window of the shop, devouring my food eagerly.
Suddenly my attention was drawn away from my meal and went straight up to the pane of glass separating me from the outside world by a knock on said glass. Ciara was standing outside the window. I waved ecstatically, totally out of character for me. She entered the restaurant and sat down with me.
"So, how are you doing? I mean, after the whole East thing," I said, astonished that I couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Oh, I'm great. The city's shutting down The Angry Flame, so Luke and I are out of a job," Ciara said.
"Luke and you? Since when were you two a package deal?"
Ciara blushed. "Well, since just recently, actually. Old crushes die hard."
"I thought that was just old habits," I mused to myself.
"What?" Ciara asked, clearly quite confused.
The girl's got to work on her confusion tolerance,' I thought. Aloud I said, "Nothing. Don't worry about it. So, what about your writing? How's that coming?"
"Great!" she exclaimed, excited. "I just sent my manuscript to a publisher and I'm waiting for results. So, I'll keep you posted."
"Great. I'll be first in line for your book signing," I said with a smile.
"So, how's the arm?" she asked, blushing again and changing the subject.
"It's been better," I said. "It's giving me a little trouble. But I can handle it. I've had worse."
Well, that was a lie. I had never had an injury this severe before. I had been shot countless times, for that was part of the job, but the wounds had never effected the way that a limb had worked. I just hoped that the use of my arm would gradually return to full strength.
"Well, it was great seeing you, Sara. I just had to come in and talk to you, but I've got to go. I promised Luke I'd meet him at a restaurant downtown, and I'll be late if I don't leave right this second."
"Hey, call me whenever you want to. I'm in the phone book," I said, looking for one of my cards and realizing that I left them back at the precinct.
"Okay, sure!" Ciara said. "See ya, Sara."
"Bye, Ciara."
I finished my dinner and then left the restaurant, heading back for my apartment. I made it to the outside of the building.
"At least she's not in that place anymore. I'm glad for that," I said to myself as I reached for my key to unlock the door.
At the instant that my hand touched the cold metal of my door key, my cell rang in my jacket pocket. I dropped the keys back into the pocket and reached into the inside pocket of the jacket, withdrawing my cell.
"Pezzini. What?" I asked.
"Hello, Sara."
The oil in the voice let me know instantly who was dialing my unlisted cell, the only person other than Jake and Ian that seemed to know it.
"Irons, what do you want? Do you bother me for fun?" I asked, very annoyed.
"Perish the thought, Sara. I have invaluable information for you, and you must come to see me immediately. If anyone else told you this, wellI'd be desolate."
Weird,' I thought. And getting weirder, I know,' I continued as Irons prepared to speak again.
"You are close by, Sara. It won't take long, just moments of your time that will change your life forever."
"Irons, I'm feeling just barely generous today, so I'll humor you. But don't get used to it."
"It is all I could ask for," he replied, a disturbing note of triumph in his voice.
"Well, I'll be there soon. This had better be good, Irons." I prepared to hang up on him but heard a dial tone on the other end of the line. I swore. Why won't he ever let me hang up on him?'
I changed direction and started walking towards Vorschlag, asking myself the entire time why I was stupid enough to believe that Irons had something meaningful to say. I mean, sure, he was a veritable mine of information about the Witchblade, but even then the real treasure was few and far between, mixed with useless, confusing quotes.
"Well, maybe this time he wasn't lying about the info," I said to myself.
Ha. Yeah, right.
I arrived at Vorschlag a few minutes later and Ian was outside the door, looking more troubled than I had ever seen him.
"Ian, what's wrong?" I asked.
"You will soon find out, Lady Sara," was the cryptic answer. He opened the door for me and followed me inside. Together we walked through the tangled corridors of Vorschlag Industries until we reached Irons's quarters. I walked through the open door and noticed that Ian was no longer beside me, but had stopped at the door.
"Close the door behind you, Ian," Irons commanded from his position at his desk. Ian, with a look of loss that broke my heart and yet puzzled me, followed instructions, shooting a warning look at me, telling me to be careful. I nodded slightly, then turned to face Irons, feeling embarrassed for Ian. Then Irons did something rather out of character. He stood up.
