Touching Rune, Page 3

  “What about Stella?” Sergei asked, referring to Dimitri’s latest lover. “Are you still seeing her?”

  “No,” Dimitri said without any other explanation. “How long do you plan to stay at the mansion? I need to make sure the new system I installed last month is working.”

  “I’m not sure,” Sergei frowned and thought for several long moments before he answered. “At least until after the first of the year. I have no desire to join in the festivities or attend the ‘required’ parties.”

  Sergei knew that Dimitri worried about him when they secluded themselves at their home outside of Moscow. They had bought the huge mansion together, transforming it into their primary development lab/home shortly after they became millionaires. Dimitri took over the lower floors while Sergei transformed the upper floors. Each also had homes around the world but preferred to stay at the Moscow residence together. It reminded them of their roots and gave them time to work on some of their new software designs in privacy.

  Since the kidnapping attempt, Sergei was spending more time locked away from the world. In truth, he found little to like about the world around him and preferred the isolation. He emerged on occasion to visit a new lover or attend meetings that needed his specialized attention.

  Neither he nor Dimitri ever brought a woman to their home there. It was an unspoken pact that that home would be reserved for their ‘wish’ woman. He set the tablet down again and focused his attention on his friend.

  “That should give me enough time to test out some of the new systems I have been working on,” Dimitri replied. “It is not good to bury yourself there for too long,” he started to add before clamping his lips together when Sergei’s eyes flashed in warning. “I know… if you wanted my advice you would ask for it.”

  Sergei smiled darkly. “Some things are best left alone, my friend, even with you. I will be fine, Dimitri. You have enough security there to protect every leader in the world. You saw the report that we may have a possible security issue at our headquarters in Los Angeles. Someone is leaking details of the new defense programming. I want you to find out who it is and take care of it.”

  “Is that what has put you in a bad mood?” Dimitri asked, accepting the sudden change in topic.

  “Yes,” Sergei said. “You know how I feel about anyone who lies or steals from us.”

  “Do you want whoever it is alive or dead?” Dimitri responded cynically.

  “Alive,” Sergei replied with a cold grin. “I want them to wish they were dead by the time we get done with them.”

  “Done,” Dimitri said with a dark smile of his own and jotted down a note in the notepad.

  Both men turned as the limousine pulled to the curb outside of Sotheby’s. Dimitri slid out of the back seat first. He looked around carefully before he nodded to Sergei.

  “Make sure the jet is ready to leave,” Sergei murmured to Dimitri. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  “Of course,” Dimitri replied as he and three of his men surrounded Sergei as several photographers approached from the sides.

  Sergei ignored them. He knew that Dimitri had some of the best and most deadly men in the world protecting him. Nothing could get through his friend’s security, nothing.

  *.*.*

  Two hours later, Sergei and Dimitri were seated on one of the Vasiliev-Mihailov’s private jets heading to their secluded home outside Moscow. The auction had taken a little longer than they expected. Ms. Ferguson had shown up outside to give a dramatic performance for the Paparazzi. Dimitri had two of his men escort Sergei’s former lover away while he shielded Sergei.

  He glanced over at Sergei. He studied his friend with a puzzled expression. Something strange had happened at the auction. Dimitri had no desire to attend so he asked Sergei to make an anonymous donation for him while he started on the Los Angeles issue.

  Dimitri knew something unusual had happened when Sergei emerged from the auction room so distracted that he hadn’t even noticed his former lover trying to gain his attention. Dimitri had waited patiently for Sergei to explain what happen but phone calls from several of his men in California had prevented him from asking when Sergei remained silent. By the time he got off the phone, they had reached the airport.

  “What happened?” Dimitri demanded after the stewardess left them alone again. “Did Simone or Petre ask you to build them a new hospital or something? I’ve never seen you so distracted. You didn’t even notice Ms. Ferguson’s little performance,” he added dryly.

  “What?” Sergei asked, looking up at Dimitri with a frown. “No, not a hospital.”

  “Sergei,” Dimitri said, handing his friend a drink. “You are acting stranger than usual. Either you tell me what happened or we return to New York and I find Petre and Simone.”

  “I bought something,” Sergei replied after several long seconds. “A statue.”

  Dimitri frowned. “You bought a statue? What for?”

  “For the atrium,” Sergei replied with a frown. “It should go in the atrium.”

  Dimitri sighed in exasperation and took a sip of the aged brandy he was holding. He didn’t understand why in the hell Sergei suddenly decided he wanted a statue for an atrium that hadn’t been touched in almost a century. Hell, Dimitri wasn’t even sure he remembered where it was! The mansion they had purchased was actually a former palace during Russia’s more prosperous age. It contained over a hundred rooms, many still in the same shape as it was when it was built.

  “Why would you buy a statue for an atrium that we never even go into?” Dimitri asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sergei replied. “I just knew we had to have it.”

  “What is it a statue of and where did it come from?” Dimitri asked in exasperation. “How much did you pay for it?” He asked suspiciously.

  “It is a statue of a young woman,” Sergei answered before he took a deep drink of his own brandy. “And we each donated a million US dollars for it.”

  Dimitri choked on the sip he had just taken. “You spent two million dollars on a statue? Is it from a famous artist? Will the value increase? Who designed it?”

  “Yes, no, probably not, and no one knows,” Sergei answered as he sat back in the plush leather seat and looked at Dimitri. “It is absolutely beautiful, Dimitri. I will return your donation to you if you want but I am keeping the statue.”

  Dimitri stared at Sergei’s determined face and shook his head. Sure they both could easily have paid a hundred times that amount but having been poor once left Dimitri on the more conservative side. If it wasn’t a good investment with a chance of increasing in value, he didn’t invest.

  Sergei sat in the plush leather seat looking out into the dark sky. His thoughts were on the impulsive purchase he had made. He frowned as he thought of the statue of the young woman. He didn’t know who had been more surprised, him or Dimitri about the unexpected purchase. His plan had been to attend the auction and make a huge donation then leave. When the statue had been unveiled, he had been mesmerized by it. The expression on the face of the statue held him spellbound. The combination of innocence, defiance and steely determination made him almost believe in humanity again - almost.

  He looked at Dimitri and told him what Simone had related to him while they waited for the statue to be set up on the stage. He had been unable to tear his eyes away from it. A shiver of apprehension had swept through him, as though warning him that his life was about to change.

  “The statue was in the garden at St. Agnes Orphanage. The building was in terrible shape and the city was threatening to tear it down. I couldn’t let that happen. It was my home for a short time after my parents were killed. I lived there for almost a year before they located my father’s mother who took me in. The statue is of a young woman who lived there at one time. I don’t remember exactly who she was but she is considered to be the guardian angel for all of the children who lived there. I know she helped me during the year I was there,” Simone had quietly explained to him before the bidding
started. “The garden is being redone into an interactive play area for the children. The architect in charge of the renovations decided the statue wouldn’t fit in with the new design. The statue was donated to the auction to help raise funds for the new playground equipment.”

  “She is beautiful,” he commented as he studied the delicate features of the bronze statue.

  “From the little I remember she was a very unusual woman for her time. I just know I always felt safe when I was at the orphanage knowing she was watching over me,” Simone said with a small smile.

  “What happened to the woman?” Sergei asked but Simone didn’t reply as the auctioneer began speaking.

  A sense of dread built in his stomach as he listened to the auctioneer give a brief history of the statue. He looked down at the program curious to see who the artist was that designed the statue. He frowned when he found no mention of the artist or any information on where it had been cast. The work was too detailed to have been done by an unknown artist.

  “All I know is that she was murdered by a man who tried to burn down the orphanage,” Simone whispered as the bidding began. “There isn’t a lot of information on her. Just that she lived there and gave her life protecting the children who lived at St. Agnes.”

  *.*.*

  “So you paid two million dollars for a statue that no one knows anything about?” Dimitri asked in disbelief. “Because you thought it was pretty?”

  Sergei frowned and drained his glass. “You’ll understand when you see it. I’m having it shipped immediately. It should be delivered in the next week.”

  “You have lost your mind,” Dimitri muttered under his breath. “Two million dollars. I hope Simone is happy.”

  “I told you, I’ll reimburse you the funds if you want,” Sergei bit out. “Wait until you see it, Dimitri. You’ll see what I mean when I say I could not let the statue go to anyone else. Plus, it will give you something else to do. If anyone can find out who the artist is, it is you. You always were a sucker for a mystery.”

  Dimitri scowled at Sergei before he finally grunted in agreement. “You better hope I turn up a very famous artist who makes this one of those one-of-a-kind finds that is considered a miracle.”

  Sergei’s lips curved in an unusual genuine smile. “You know, I think it just might be.”

  “I hope your intuition is right again, my friend,” Dimitri grumbled. “Two million dollars’ worth of one-of-a-kind.”

  Chapter 4

  Rune fumed silently as she looked around the tattered atrium. She didn’t want to be staring at dried and withered plants that adorned the huge area that had at one time been beautiful. She wanted to watch the children as they ran circles around her while throwing snowballs. She wanted to hear their off-key singing as the excitement of the Christmas season approached.

  Instead, she had been ripped away from the serenity of her former home. She had spent the last century watching over the children. The orphanage had changed dramatically over the years but the children, despite the changing times, remained the same. She sent warmth to the new arrivals, listened to their hopes and dreams and did what she could to make them feel safe and happy.

  She grimaced as an older man brushed dry leaves aside so the workmen could set her up in the center of the marble platform. She listened as the men joked in a language she didn’t understand.

  She would have panicked when she felt herself start to topple over if she had cared what happened to her but she was beyond caring now. She had been ripped away from the one place where she wanted to be. Until she was either pulled back to the plane where she existed in a world of nothingness or returned to her garden, she could care less what happened around her.

  “Be careful!” A sharp, deep voice snapped out. “I do not want the statue damaged.”

  Rune turned to glare at the male who had barked out a sharp command. She recognized his voice from the room where she had been put on display. He had purchased her for a ridiculous price. She could have told him that she wasn’t worth two million dollars! She had tried to send out feelings of discouragement but if anything, he had seemed more determined than ever to own her.

  Not that he ever will, she thought defiantly.

  She felt half a dozen hands straightening her before they finally stepped back. She watched as the men quickly gathered the packaging that she had been stored in for the long move. She had slept through most of it, unable to bare the horrible emptiness and darkness of the crate. She wanted to rant at them to not take it too far because she wouldn’t be staying long. As soon as she could find a way to convince the horrid man that she was a bad luck omen, she planned on being shipped back to where she came from.

  Just you wait, she thought as another man joined the first and looked at her with an unexpectedly possessive look. I’ll make you both wish you had never purchased me. You’ll be happy to send me back to my garden.

  *.*.*

  Sergei looked at Dimitri’s face with a feeling of triumph. It wasn’t often that he could surprise or shock his friend but he could tell by the stunned expression on Dimitri’s face that he was speechless for once.

  A low curse escaped Dimitri when the men who delivered the statue almost toppled it. He actually took a step forward, briefly reaching out in protest. The thick cords of muscles stood out on his neck as he clenched his fists.

  “Now you understand, my friend,” Sergei said in satisfaction. “The moment I saw her I knew she was ours.”

  “You are sure there was no information on the artist?” Dimitri asked as he released the breath he was holding as the men finally righted the bronze statue and started cleaning up the packing crate.

  Sergei shook his head. “I emailed Simone again and asked her if she had any additional information. She said she didn’t but there might be some mention of the statue in the archives that the nuns of the orphanage kept. She would ask and let me know.”

  Dimitri nodded. “I will see if I can find out any information as well. She is beautiful. I swear it feels like she is staring at us,” he murmured.

  Sergei let his eyes sweep over the figure before turning his gaze back to the statue’s eyes. Dimitri was right. It did feel like she was staring at them.

  Well, perhaps glaring is a better word, he thought with a frown.

  He didn’t remember the angry look in her eyes before. Of course, he hadn’t had much of a chance to study her before she was taken away to be crated up and shipped out. Still, it felt almost like she was…

  “Does it feel like she is mad at us?” Dimitri asked as he studied her face. “I swear I can feel the heat from her gaze. Almost like she is upset that we purchased her.”

  Sergei laughed and slapped Dimitri’s shoulder. “Well, she will just have to accept that we own her now and nothing will change that. Come, let us take a closer look at our new prize.”

  Dimitri mumbled something under his breath but he stepped forward toward the center platform. His gaze moved around the huge atrium. Beautiful arched windows with stained glass covered the ceiling showcasing the light fall of snow. Golden beams curved up until they reached a peak. The workmanship was beautiful. Dozens of marble statues, many of them either Roman or Greek Gods and Goddesses surrounded the interior. A large reflection pond, green with algae, ran on the left side of the center platform which was made from the finest Italian marble. In the far corner, a spiral staircase rose up toward the ceiling where an intricately cast metal platform ran around the upper level of the atrium giving a clear view of the entire area. A gilded cage, once filled with exotic birds, stood off to the side.

  “I never realized how beautiful this room was,” Dimitri commented as he stepped up onto the platform where the statue stood. “Perhaps we should get a garden planner to renovate it.”

  Sergei glanced in amusement at Dimitri. No one would ever think the man who resembled a linebacker for an American football team would be interested in gardening. Dimitri’s face held more scars than Sergei, evidence of the fights h
e had participated in during their youth. A small scar below his right eye, another through his left eyebrow, the crooked nose that had been broken several times and the scar that pulled at his upper lip were the ones that could be seen.

  Sergei knew his friend also carried more than one knife wound and several bullet wounds, most received while protecting him from those who wished to use his knowledge. They made the mistake of under-estimating his friend’s intelligence. That mistake often ended with them dying.

  “I will ask Micha to have some of the staff clean the area so we can decide what we would like first,” Sergei suggested as he turned his attention back to the statue. Unable to resist, he reached out and touched the bronze cheek. “I wonder what she was like,” he murmured. “All Simone knew was that she was murdered saving the lives of the children at the orphanage.”

  Dimitri ran his fingers along the curve of the statue’s neck and down to her shoulder. “It is a shame that someone so beautiful should die so young,” he commented with a frown.

  He would have sworn he felt warmth under his fingers. That was impossible! It was freezing inside the atrium, at least four degrees Celsius.

  “I wish…,” Sergei started to say as he looked into the delicate face.

  “What?” Dimitri asked, watching as Sergei’s expression changed from sad to intense. “That she was the one we had wished for?”

  Sergei looked at Dimitri with a hard expression on his face. “Why not? Is it so hard to believe that there could be another who is selfless enough to give their life for another?” He asked with a raised eyebrow and a cynical twist to his lips.

  “Yes. She lived in another time,” Dimitri pointed out. “No man, much less a woman, would give their life for another unless they were paid to in this day and age. Even then, they would more than likely take the money and let you die.”

  “You didn’t,” Sergei responded quietly. “You could have left me but you didn’t.”

  Dimitri’s expression hardened when he remembered finding Sergei surrounded by the local thugs who would have sold the scrawny, frightened ten year old to the nearest whore house. Dimitri had been two years older and had been on the streets since he was eight and his mother had died of an overdose. Even before that, he had known what the streets were like. You either killed or you were killed. You either used or you were used. Dimitri had been determined to be neither used nor killed. He had been big for his age even at eight and had killed his first man by the time he was eleven. The man had thought to use him.