"Laclede's Landing?" It was more of a statement than a question. "Remember when we used to come here..." Camille stopped, not wanting to dredge up those memories of happier times.
"Yeah, I remember," he smiled, a wistful light dancing in his eyes. "I loved to dance with you."
She felt the heated blush that suffused her skin at the way his arms used to hold her close, their bodies swaying to the soft bluesy sounds of the bands that played in that other life. When they'd danced together the entire world around them would disappear, leaving only their two bodies touching and their two hearts beating together.
Clearing her throat, she turned her attention to the scene outside her window. It was late and the streets were alive with people. It was closing time for the myriad of pubs in St. Louis' "party" district. Crowds flowed from open doors to spill into the streets, laughing faces and listing bodies staggering about, blissfully unaware of the evil that Niko had been fighting.
"Camille," Niko said slowly, his voice holding a note of warning. "Try to keep your head down. You're a striking woman and easy to recognize. I should've taken Eades Bridge. It's a mess down here this time of night."
The car rolled slowly along the ancient, brick-paved streets, stopping often for the people that wandered off the sidewalks, and for the cars in the opposite lanes of the narrow roadways. Camille could see that Niko was anxious, glancing about with a forbidding expression on his face.
"Why are we here?"
"I need to see if Olan left me a message. There's a place we use over on Broadway," he answered as he gratefully turned right onto Washington. He followed the street to Broadway, turning right again.
Camille watched the skyline as the towering Gateway Arch grew larger, looming over the city, the silvery structure a graceful, curving brilliance in the night. She had always loved this city. They'd spent many happy weekends here, shopping, dining, seeking entertainment. She'd been back only once since Niko had disappeared, the memories of his smiling face and glittering black eyes sending her home in abject loneliness, never to return.
She looked at the man who was once her Niko, seeing the set of his jaw and the darkness of his expression. He'd never been like that in those days, always smiled when she'd looked at him, always ready to wrap his arms around her, kiss her...
Shaking her head, Camille tried to get her mind off the subject of his arms and lips.
I'm getting married soon, to...
she thought, her mind searching but failing to come up with the man's name.
What's the matter with me?
"What's wrong?" Niko could see the agitation she was feeling etched on her face.
Doug!
"Nothing," she snapped, wanting to kick herself. "How much farther?"
"Just a couple blocks. When we stop I want you to stay close to me, understand?"
She nodded, not wanting to look at him. The car pulled to a stop in a small lot next to a brown building. The sign on the front said "The UPS Store," their visit giving Camille pause to wonder. When they got out of the car into the mid-summer night air, she stayed by Niko's side, as he'd told her, glancing back over her shoulder from time to time.
"You got me doing it now," she muttered when they reached the front of the building.
"What's that?" he said.
Camille was about to tell him how she'd been reduced to his paranoid delusions when she saw the look on his face. His eyes had hardened, his hand hanging in the air where he'd been about to take hold of the door handle. A curse hissed from his lips at a small smear of blood on the door's glass.
"What is it?" she asked, sudden alarm freezing her heart.
"Nothing, I hope."
Pulling the door open cautiously, Niko wrapped his fingers around her upper arm while he inspected brown spots that looked like drops of liquid rust on the sidewalk and the floor inside. He pulled her along, glancing around, finding the place deserted.
The walls of the interior were lined with rows upon rows of small, locked metal mailboxes. It was one of those places where you could have your mail delivered and then pick it up at whatever time of day suited best. The silence inside was eerie, too quiet for Camille's comfort.
Glancing over his shoulder again, he guided her along one of the walls. There was a large, bloody handprint on the door of one of the boxes, another smear angling along the wall. Niko wasted little time in pulling out his leather lock case and extracting a small key ring. It held several small keys, all looking to fit locks such as those found on these boxes. Selecting one of the gleaming keys, he slipped it into the lock of the bloody door, opening it to pull out a stained wad of paper and a cell phone.
"Where'd all this blood come from?" Camille whispered as she saw her husband smoothing the paper open.
"Fuck. We gotta go, now!"
He slammed the small door shut, locking it and pulling the key out. Seizing her arm in his rough grasp and stuffing the bloody scrap of paper and the cell phone into his pocket, he dragged her to the exit, peering through the glass before shoving the door open. Camille had to run to keep up as his long legs stretched out, eating the ground under them. He all but threw her into the car when they reached it, slamming the door hard before jogging around the vehicle to take his place behind the wheel.
"What the hell is going on?" she demanded.
Niko fired the engine and jammed the shifter into gear, gunning the engine hard. "Change of plans."
"Where are we going now?"
"We have to get out of the city. Sorry, babe. Doesn't look like you'll be getting that shower after all."
"I don't care about that. What's happening?"
Niko didn't answer, a small muscle twitching in his clenched jaw. His knuckles had turned white on the wheel again, and for a minute, Camille thought he would tear it from the steering column. Without thinking, she reached out, placed her hand over his in a gesture of concern.
"What happened, Niko?" she asked, her voice soft.
He turned his hand, capturing her fingers in his, bringing them to his lips before looking at her. The concern in her blue eyes reminded him of the love she once bore for him. He remembered all the times that he thought he could happily drown in the liquid depths of her gaze, just as he was thinking now. It took all his will power not to pull over, take her into his arms and lose himself in her body.
"Some goons waiting for us at the safe house," he said, focusing his attention back on the road, releasing her hand. "Olan said they must have followed him."
"Where'd all the blood come from?"
"Olan," he ground out. "He's been shot."
"Shot? Dear God. Where is he? Is he in a hospital?"
"No. No hospitals. He'll be holed up somewhere."
