Truth Behind the Mask Page 5

“So much for me making a discreet entrance.” Pagan pushed the office door open wider and stepped inside.

  “Discretion is overrated,” Erith said, but her smile faded as Pagan lifted her head and Erith saw the angry discoloration marring her face. She closed the distance between them and stopped barely an inch away from Pagan. She touched a spot that was unmarked, mindful of where Pagan’s jaw was hurt. “What happened here?” she whispered, her hand shaking as it stayed on Pagan’s cheek.

  Pagan was surprised by the tremors she could feel from Erith’s fingers. “I had an accident—” Pagan began and was interrupted by Erith’s snort of derision.

  “That’s what they all say! Don’t ‘accident’ me, Pagan. I know a fist mark when I see one. Who the hell did this to you?” Anger colored her voice, and her face darkened.

  Pagan’s eyebrows lifted in surprise at Erith’s furious tone and her more-than-obvious ire. “I was about to explain,” Pagan started carefully, curious as to Erith’s reactions. “I got caught between two guys outside the restaurant next door, and in my trying to point them elsewhere to brawl I got punched in the face by an unlucky swing.” Pagan grimaced ruefully.

  Erith took a shaky breath and moved her fingers from Pagan’s face. “I see, I just…” She leaned heavily against the table behind her, lowering her head to look at her shoes. “I thought someone might have hit you,” she finished weakly.

  “They did! But it was an accident. My face got in the way of me trying to help and assist.” She chuckled a little and leaned forward conspiratorially. “Rogue nearly beat them to a pulp for what they did.”

  “Who’s Rogue?”

  “My sister’s partner. They raised me after my parents—” Pagan stopped as she realized she was telling Erith way more than she usually told anyone. She looked up to find Erith’s eyes on her and saw nothing there but genuine curiosity staring back at her. “My parents died when I was very small.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “So this Rogue, is he a big guy to beat the living daylights out of men that punch you?”

  Pagan laughed. “No, but she’s big enough to bounce anyone off the sidewalk, no matter what they do.”

  Erith’s eyes grew wide. “Rogue’s a she? And she and your sister…they’re…together?”

  “They were the last time I saw them, yes,” she replied cheekily. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No, God no! I don’t have a problem with that. No problem at all,” Erith said enigmatically and then leaned back a little. “You work in security and were brought up by lesbians.” She rested her hands on the top of the table behind her and leaned back, completely unaware of the seductiveness of her pose. “What else is there about you I don’t know, Ms. Osborne?”

  “There’s not much else to know,” Pagan said, too busy staring at the pale flesh unintentionally revealed by Erith’s stance. She wondered how soft it would be and could feel her fingers itching to reach out and test her theory.

  Erith’s eyes roamed over Pagan’s face, considering. “Guess those guys won’t be eating out for a while, then?”

  “Not for a long time,” Pagan said, satisfied in the knowledge that the real culprit was behind bars after the police had found him trussed up like a turkey in the alley he’d been stalking. A call from one of the Sighted had secured his arrest. The man had been off the streets in moments.

  Erith stood again and broke Pagan’s inner thoughts. She blinked as if an actual connection had been deactivated. Pagan looked up to be met by Erith’s stare. Her body immediately reacted to the almost physical touch of her eyes.

  “What?” she finally asked, curious about the intensity on Erith’s face.

  “I find that I don’t like the thought of someone hurting you.”

  Erith had spoken so quietly that Pagan almost didn’t register the sounds. Only her habit of watching a speaker’s lips let her know what Erith had actually admitted. She opened her mouth but was at a loss for what to say.

  Erith shook her head “So, what you got in your basket?”

  Pagan was thrown off at the swift change in their conversation. She was still trying to sort out the sudden feelings that hung silently between them. “I brought lunch,” she said. Erith favored her with such a beaming grin that Pagan felt her heart melt on the spot. Oh God, I am in so much trouble!

  “Are you asking me out on a date, Pagan Osborne?”

  Pagan felt her face flush and her heart begin to race in her chest double time. She held up the basket. “I’m asking you to join me for lunch.” She frowned at Erith’s amused expression. “Why do I get the feeling you are laughing at me?”

  Erith shook her head, her hair instantly catching the light. “I’m not laughing at you. You’re such a contradiction, Pagan. You’re able to jump into a brawl and get smacked in the face for it, yet you blush like a girl when I mention the word ‘date.’”

  “You’re going to give me more trouble than a whole gang of brawlers, I can tell.”

  Erith hooked her arm in the crook of Pagan’s and led the way out of the office. “I’m no trouble at all, Pagan. I am sweetness and light personified.”

  “Yeah, right,” she muttered, and chuckled as Erith backhanded her in her stomach.

  “Geez, Pagan!” Erith rubbed at her hand. “You have a gut made of steel.” She shook her hand out and flexed her fingers.

  “You must have hit a bony bit,” Pagan said.

  “You intrigue me, Pagan.”

  “I’d have to say the same about you, Ms. Baylor.”

  Erith tossed her head and fixed her sights firmly on a place for them to sit outside. She tugged Pagan toward her designated spot. “I hope you brought plenty of food to share. I’m suddenly feeling ravenous.” She ran a soft hand along Pagan’s arm. “I may be small in stature compared to you, but I have a big appetite.”

  The look in her eye gave Pagan cause to pause. She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “I’ll consider myself forewarned,” she replied and tried not to watch where Erith’s hand lay on her arm. She could feel the heat burning her skin at the soft touch. Pagan wasn’t used to being touched by members of the fairer sex. She had known at a very early age that she would be drawn to females just as her sister had been. Between her shyness and her silence, Pagan had effectively set up walls around herself that few had managed to penetrate. Pagan also had her mind set firmly on her destiny. The life of a Sentinel was very demanding, and she had a score to settle with the ones behind her parents’ deaths. It didn’t leave much room for anything else. She had rarely been distracted from it. She feared that this distraction would prove harder to dismiss.

  Though the view from behind the office building was less than impressive, it did afford a secluded seat away from the noise of the main car lot. Pagan’s gaze drifted to linger over the towers and skyscrapers in the distance, visible over the wrought iron fencing that surrounded the lot. She knew that tonight she’d be seeing the imposing towers from a totally different perspective.

  “Tito says his car was stolen last night,” Pagan said.

  Erith nodded. “I don’t think he remembers the right code to enter on the main gate keypad. If he didn’t lock up right last night, this place was wide open for any takers. I even reminded him to be careful of that when I left early yesterday.”

  “Tito said you locked up last night,” Pagan said.

  Erith stared at her a moment, then shook her head. “Silly man, I locked up everything the night before. He’s so stressed he can’t keep his days straight.”

  “Only his car was touched, though, right? That’s a little strange, don’t you think?”

  “Life is strange.” Erith shifted her head to again check out Pagan’s bruised side. “How’s the face feeling?”

  “It’s throbbing like crazy. I have some tablets I need to take to try to keep the swelling down and the pain at bay.” Pagan opened the basket and started to take out the food. “Hope you don’t mind if I have the egg salad. That was my mood f
or today, and I can’t really chew meat at the moment. I got my sister to order us a few sandwiches to choose from, so take your pick.”

  “What did your sister say?”

  “About what?”

  “You carting extra food to the car lot.”

  “Nothing. Why would she say anything about that?”

  “Because you’re feeding a stranger.”

  “I’m getting fed in the process, and it never hurts to treat someone.” Pagan touched Erith’s arm to get her attention. “It’s no problem. I needed a quick meal today, and I thought you’d like the surprise. Is it so wrong for me to want to share?”

  “I’m no charity case,” Erith grumbled, her shoulders hunching as she hunkered inside the black jacket that hung from her frame.

  “I don’t see you as one,” Pagan said. “Come on, Erith. Look at me. You’re the first person I have spoken to properly in ages outside of the business. I’m comfortable with you. I enjoy your company. I don’t picnic with just anyone, I’ll have you know.”

  “Really?”

  Pagan nudged her. “Yes, really. Now can we eat? Because I’m starving and I need to keep my strength up to walk around this lot and see what is needed where.”

  They ate together in a companionable silence, enjoying the food and the sunny day. Pagan lifted her head to let the sun’s rays warm her face and Erith leaned toward her.

  “I never noticed you wore earrings before, Pagan,” she said and brushed back Pagan’s hair.

  Pagan flinched from her touch. Erith paused, her hand in midair, until Pagan resignedly put her head within reach. Carefully, as if not to spook Pagan any further, Erith leaned closer and pushed back the hair that covered Pagan’s ears.

  “This is like no earring I’ve ever seen.” Erith carefully traced the hearing aid that curled about Pagan’s ear with its unusual ornate shape.

  “It’s not an earring.” Pagan waited for the condemnation she feared would follow Erith’s realization. She tried not to jump at the tickle of Erith’s soft finger.

  Erith moved her finger. She just looked at Pagan until Pagan finally lifted her head.

  “And here I was thinking you were looking at my lips because they held some fatal fascination.”

  Pagan swallowed hard. “That’s just one reason,” she said.

  “Are you deaf, Pagan?” Erith finally asked.

  Pagan nodded.

  Erith frowned as her mind obviously was working overtime. “But not completely, right? Hence the aid.”

  Pagan nodded again and lifted up the hair covering her other ear. “Two of them,” she said. “I have some hearing. I hear enough to get along without people realizing I am deaf.” She looked pointedly at Erith. “Usually, that is.”

  Erith wrapped her arms about her knees. “I saw the shine of silver behind your hair. I’m inquisitive, I wondered what was there. I thought maybe you had some weird and wacky piercing going on.”

  “I’m not pierced anywhere,” Pagan said. “Or tattooed.”

  Erith gave Pagan a very mischievous look.

  “You have a tattoo?”

  Erith nodded, suddenly tight lipped.

  “Where?”

  Erith’s mischievous look only deepened. “I won’t tell you that until we’re much more…friendly.”

  “Oh, I see, or…not, I guess.” Pagan stumbled over her words, intrigued by what Erith was hiding. “Did it hurt?”

  “Kind of, but I’ve lived through worse and come out unscathed. I figured I needed a mark to celebrate that fact. When I hit nineteen, I treated myself to it.”

  Pagan blinked at her, and Erith laughed.

  “You have to be the least inquisitive person I have ever met. You never ask questions, you just wait until you are told something. You’re an unusual woman, Pagan Osborne.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  Erith uncurled herself and leaned into Pagan. “No, not because of your hearing. I don’t care about that. Well, I do, of course, but it obviously doesn’t impair you in any way, so why should it matter to us?” Erith took a deep breath. “Do you know what I’m trying to say here?”

  “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For not resorting to raising your voice to me once you realized that I don’t hear perfectly. For not making me feel like a freak.”

  “You are no freak. So you don’t hear so great. It doesn’t make you any less who you are. It doesn’t make you any less Pagan.”

  Pagan smiled, feeling suddenly lighthearted and equally light-headed.

  “Do many know?” Erith asked.

  Pagan shook her head slowly. “Not many. My family do, of course, but it’s not something I need to announce when I’m fitting alarms.”

  “I won’t say anything. It’s not my disclosure to make,” Erith said, then chuckled. “After all, who would I tell? You’re the only one who talks to me. I’m new to the area, and still regarded as that weird goth chick.”

  “You’re not gothic. You don’t paint your face enough. I’d say your more rock chick if anything.”

  “I wear a lot of black. It tends to frighten people.”

  Pagan regarded her seriously. “You don’t frighten me.” You just make me nervous of what I feel whenever I’m around you, she thought silently, her stomach doing flip-flops at the way Erith looked at her.

  “You’re obviously made of strong stuff, Pagan.” Erith squeezed Pagan’s bicep. “You’re very deceptive, Pagan O,” she added, staring at Pagan’s arm.

  The sound of Tito yelling something to an employee rang through the backyard where they sat.

  “I’d better go get started on my job here.” Pagan carefully let her arm slip from Erith’s grasp, and she got a thrill seeing disappointment momentarily color Erith’s features.

  Erith put a finger under Pagan’s chin and made very sure Pagan could see her face. “One day, there will be no such distractions to cut into our discussions, Ms. Osborne.”

  Pagan feared that would never be the case. The city would always demand her fullest attention, in whatever guise she served it.

  Chapter Five

  Rogue held up the pads that covered her hands to deflect the blows Pagan threw at her. The solid-sounding whomps echoed in the lighthouse’s training room.

  “So, she knows you’re deaf?” Rogue said as Pagan battered away at the fighting blocks while Rogue stood her ground. “What is it about this woman, Pagan, that lets down your guard? You’ve only met her twice, yet she seems to have found a way to reach under your skin.”

  Pagan punched harder in a faster rhythm, managing to push Rogue back under the onslaught. “I don’t know. It’s more than just her looks.” She finished her volley and let her hands hang limply at her sides. “Did I tell you she has this amazing red hair that seems to radiate fire from within? And she has such a pretty face too, almost impish with a smattering of freckles here.” She lifted up her bound hands to brush them over her nose awkwardly.

  “Does she now?” Rogue replied, trying not to let her amusement show at Pagan’s unwitting adoration. Rogue held up the padded blocks in a less-than-subtle hint that Pagan needed to keep her concentration on her training.

  Pagan smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” she muttered and began to pound away at Rogue’s defenses. After an hour of training, Pagan’s shirt and shorts were sticking to her, and her breaths were escaping in short, ragged pants. In stark contrast, Rogue’s gym clothes still looked immaculate and her breathing was barely labored.

  “It’s about time,” Rogue said after they completed the set routine.

  Pagan was panting harshly, her arms dangling by her sides as she rested from her exertion. “What is?” she asked before collapsing to the floor in a heap and attempting to unwrap her hands from their binds.

  “That someone caught your eye.”

  Pagan held out a hand for Rogue to help her unwrap. “There’s just something about her that draws me to her. And it’s not just the
fact that she’s pretty. Which she is. Seriously pretty, in fact.” Pagan chewed at her lip thoughtfully. “She’s also smart, funny, and sharp as a knife.” She then added conspiratorially, “She even has a tattoo.”

  “And you know of its existence how?”

  “Because she told me! We haven’t…I haven’t…She probably wouldn’t…Rogue!” Pagan’s face flushed.

  “You are a shy one, Pagan, for one so mighty,” Rogue teased her, tugging on the bindings on Pagan’s hands to get her to look up at her.

  “Around her I don’t feel so mighty. I feel lost and unsure and uncertain.”

  “Does that scare you?”

  Pagan nodded.

  “It’s okay to feel like that.” Rogue finished unwrapping Pagan’s binds and freed her hands. “That’s how I feel around your sister all the time. She can render me as weak as a kitten or make me feel like the strongest woman on earth.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?”

  “It’s the best thing,” Rogue assured her.

  Pagan flexed her fingers with a reflective air. “So what do I do?”

  “Do you want to get to know her better?”

  Pagan nodded.

  “Then do just that. Seek her out, talk with her, and listen to her. Find out who she is, what makes her tick.”

  “It sounds so simple.”

  “It is, once you get the hang of it. You can do it. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

  “Why do I feel it might be easier to face off against a gang of thugs?” Pagan flung herself spread-eagle on the floor, her arms covering her face.

  “Because you are more than aware that when it comes to feelings, it’s a hard battle to win against your own self-doubts,” Rogue replied. “Tell me again about the freckles.”

  Pagan lifted a hand from her face and peered at Rogue suspiciously. “Why?”

  “Because you got this really cute look on your face when you were describing them to me. It was kind of sweet. I want to be able to memorize it so I can describe it properly to Mel.”

  Pagan sat upright. “You can’t tell Mel about this!”

  “Why not? These freckles might become important in your life, and that, in turn, affects our lives.” Rogue enjoyed watching the multiple emotions race across Pagan’s face. Terror seemed to be taking the lead, judging by the look in Pagan’s expressive eyes. Rogue relented and waggled her eyebrows comically.