Part 27 (1/2)
”Magnus. Is Magnus alive?”
”He is, and living very well for a one-eyed former mercenary with eight fingers and twenty-nine teeth. Heas the consultant for the Warlord game.”
”He likes video games?”
”He hates them. He always thought it was stupid that players sat and stared at a little screen and exercised their thumbs, so when I was talking about turning the whole experience into a game, he said build it so the action happened in a room all around the player. In Warlord, the player has weapons strapped to his body and sensors hooked to his hands, feet, and head, and he has to defend himself against the oncoming threats.” His enthusiasm grew as he spoke. ”The higher the level, the more difficult the battles, the more attackers involved. Itas actually a training setup for mercenaries.”
”A video game in a room?” She watched him with an indulgent smile. ”Where will it be played?”
”Pizza places. Paintball galleries. Burstrom has his finger in a lot of pies, and heas buying up property to build actual game houses. But in addition, Burstrom and I see potential for training in any kind of fighting and self-defense. Karate schools will build them in. Weave already started work to modify the idea for training boxers. The preliminary sales have brought in over seventy million dollars.”
”Seventy million dollars.” Her indulgent smile evaporated. ”Youave got to be kidding!”
”My cut is only ten percent.”
”Only? Thatas seven million.”
”Thatas just the beginning. Projections for next year are for five times that.”
”Wow.” She had never figured him for a financial wizard.
”As with every venture, there is always a chance projections will fall short,” he warned her.
She didnat see that happening. Not to this smooth-talking entrepreneur.
He continued, ”In addition, I put the money I made as a mercenary in a bank in Switzerland, and with the help of my financial advisera””
”You had a financial adviser?”
”I would have been a fool not to.” He let her absorb that. ”So with the help of my financial adviser, my personal worth tops thirty million. That amount is completely separate from the money involved in the development of the Warlord game.”
She was in shock. She remembered how he lived, in a tent with the spoils of a hundred raids . . . and he was worth thirty million? And counting? ”Why are you telling me all this?”
”I want you to know that if you will do me the honor of marrying me, I will always take care of you.”
It was a good thing she was p.r.o.ne. Otherwise she would have collapsed on the spot.
”My sins are beyond count. The memory of you was the only thing that kept me alive for the whole wretched year of my captivity.” He leaned over her and smoothed her hair away from her face. He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers and smiled into her stunned eyes. ”We have a connection. More than one.” He grasped her wrists, brought them out from beneath the covers, and held the gold bracelets between them. ”Look. You wear my badge of owners.h.i.+p.”
”I wear them to show I escaped you!”
”You wear them like a wedding ring.”
That struck home, and she winced.
”You can visit my mind,” he said persuasively. ”Marry me.”
She remained absolutely still, absorbing his words, knowing the truth, but too afraid to acknowledge it.
”Search your brain,” Warlord said. ”What do you see?”
Immediately she knew the answer. But in knee-jerk defiance she said, ”Nothing.”
But he wouldnat let her get away with lying to him.
Leaning toward her, he put his forehead against hers. He looked into her eyes. And he placed his hand against her heart.
It was dark. It was cold. And she wanted her mommy.
But her mommy didnat come.
The servants whispered and looked at her. Her grandpa came in and stared at her, then scowled and shook his head. But mostly she was alone in the dark, cold house, scared and hearing whispers, wisps of words. . . .
Poor child. No mother at all. Lover dead. Jumped off a cliff after him.
Tears leaked out of Karenas eyes.
Mommy. Mommy.
Poor child. Dan Nighthorse dead. Mother fell off the cliff, landed on the rocks, and can you imagine? She bled there for a day, her internal organs destroyed, and when they rescued her she screamed.
Karen heard her father come home. She came out of her room and ran to the balcony, waiting for her daddy to visit her. And she saw her grandfather grab her daddy by the scruff of the neck and carry him into the office. She was with that Indian guide. Sheas been with him for years. Do you know what this means . . . ? The door slammed behind them.
What does it mean? Daddy. Daddy.
Poor child. Five years old. Dan Nighthorse dead. Mother fell off the cliff, landed on the rocks, and can you imagine? She bled there for a day, freezing in the cold, her internal organs destroyed, and when they rescued her, she screamed in agony. Poor child. Her mother died. Poor child. Sheas alone.
Forever alone . . .
Karen woke up crying.
Warlord had tears in his eyes, too. ”My poor little girl. My poor little girl. I canat stand it. Youare not alone. Not anymore.”
She tried to push him away. ”Stop it. I donat want this. Stop it.”
”Itas too late to stop it. You swallowed my blood, and it gave you the strength to fight off the effects of the venom. It gave you a window into my mind. And what else, Karen?”
”Nothing,” she insisted.
Gathering her into his arms, he pressed her ear to his chest, and as she listened to the thump of his heart she fell into another memory.
The sun burned down on her. The horizon stretched forever. And she had one chance. One chance to make good, to make her father see her, really look at her, finally notice how hard she worked, how smart she was . . . one chance, and this was it.
Karen approached the sullen framing crew, two dozen men lounging against a pile of lumber.
They were mad, every one of them. Theyad been working Jackson Sonnetas Australian adventure hotel, they were less than halfway through construction, and their project manager had had a heart attack. They were getting the bossas twenty-three-year -old daughter as a replacement, and without saying a word they managed to let Karen know what they thought.
One chance, and they wanted to take it away from her.
She smiled, because smiling always disarmed the guys, stuck her shaking hands into jeans pockets, and asked, ”Whoas the crew boss?”