Iris Johansen - Blind Alley

“She's had enough,” Trevor repeated over his shoulder. “You'll get your answers but not until she's able to absorb them.”

“I'm fine,” Jane said. She was being stupid. Get a grip.

“Yes, you are,” Trevor said. “But there's no immediate urgency. You need time to digest what I've told you.”

“You haven't told me anything. This tunnel, where is it?”

He was striding away from them. “Later.”

“Where is it? You tell me now .”

“Don't get upset. I've no intention of keeping secrets. Well, perhaps a few. But that isn't one of them.” He'd already reached the trees. “Herculaneum.”

NINE

C ira.

Dead over two thousand years.

Herculaneum.

“Go lie down.” Eve's worried gaze was on Jane's face. “You're white as a sheet. Maybe Trevor was right to tell us to get you home.”

“Stop fretting. There's nothing wrong with me.” She gave her the ghost of a smile. “And Joe doesn't think he was right.” She glanced at Joe, who'd been on the phone with the department since they'd arrived back at the cottage, giving Christy the info Trevor had divulged about Guido Manza. “He hates delays. He doesn't like to be teased and then have the rug yanked from under him. He likes everything laid out in crystal-clear order.” She made a face. “And you can't say that anything Trevor told us was clear-cut.”

“It was clear enough to upset you.” She paused. “You nearly went into shock when Trevor mentioned that name.” She repeated it slowly, “Cira. And the tunnel was a little too coincid—”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Jane turned quickly away. She had to get out of here. She was holding on to her composure by main force. “Maybe I am a little tired. I'll go rest until it's time to fix dinner.”

“You can't run away from me, Jane. I'll let you delay but not bury whatever is bothering you.”

“I know that.” She headed down the hall. “But it would help if I knew what was bothering me. Right now, I'm all mixed up.”

“You're not alone. Trevor dropped a bomb and then just walked away. It's no wonder Joe's upset.”

“Herculaneum . . .” She frowned. “It's familiar, but where the devil is Herculaneum?”

“Italy,” Eve said. “It was destroyed by the Vesuvius eruption at the same time as Pompeii.”

“Weird.” Jane opened her bedroom door. “I'm sure Trevor won't leave us hanging long. I'll talk to you later.” She leaned back against the door as she closed it behind her. Dear God, her knees felt like spaghetti. She hated to feel this weak.

And there was no reason for it. It could be a coincidence.

Yeah, sure. Cira was such a common name.

Then what other explanation? She was dreaming about a woman who'd been dead two thousand years? She immediately rejected the thought. There was nothing ancient about the thinking processes of the Cira she knew. She'd never even questioned that Cira was not a present-day woman. Every thought, every instinct were ones that Jane understood perfectly.

Too perfectly?

That's right, question every memory and impulse. That was the way to really go around the bend. She didn't even know the story behind the woman Trevor called Cira. Who knows? Maybe she'd picked up some weird vibes from Aldo that filtered into her dreams.

But Aldo hadn't even appeared on her radarscope until weeks after the dreams had started.

So maybe she was psychic after all. She'd heard of long-distance telepathy.

She was really reaching, she thought in disgust. Next she'd be seeing aliens or those little green monkeys Eve had mentioned. There had to be an explanation, and however weird or pragmatic, it just had to be faced and handled, and everything would be okay.

And that was what Cira would have done.

No, that was what she, Jane, would do. Cira was a dream and had nothing to do with reality. She was already beginning to feel better, stronger. All she'd needed was a little time to get over the shock and realize that this was nothing she couldn't control.

She straightened and headed for the bathroom. She wasn't about to curl up in bed and “rest.” She'd wash her face and then she'd hit the computer and see if she could find any historical reference to a Cira in Herculaneum. It was entirely possible she'd run across information, maybe just a line or two that she'd absorbed and then forgotten and later reprocessed in those dreams. If that didn't work, she'd call the reference library downtown and see if they knew anything or could tell her where else to look. Before Trevor had thrown that bombshell she'd accepted those dreams with curiosity and fascination but she couldn't do that any longer. If there was any fragment of reality connected with Cira she had to know about it and how it was connected to her.

Two hours later she sat back and gazed in frustration at her computer. Nothing. And the reference librarians had not been able to access anything about Cira either. Okay, don't wig out. There had to be an answer. She just had to find it.

And the only knowledgeable source on Cira appeared to be Trevor, blast him.

Cira and Aldo.

She tried to quell her impatience. Keep busy. Go cook dinner. She'd always found if you concentrated on doing the little things right, the big things usually fell into place too.

So call me, Trevor, I'm ready for you.

H ot.

Smoke was beginning to creep through the rocks.

Antonio was just ahead, moving swiftly.

Go faster. Keep from coughing. He mustn't know she was following.

He was gone!

No, he must have just disappeared from view around a turn in the tunnel.

She mustn't lose him. She was committed and there was no turning back.

She started to run.

Don't lose him. Don't lose him.

She turned the corner.

“Can't we go the rest of the way together?” Antonio was outlined against the glowing rocks.

She skidded to a stop. “You knew I was following you.”

“I knew there was a good possibility. You're smart and you don't want to die.” He held out his hand. “Second chance, Cira. For me and for you. We both know second chances don't come along very often. We can make this work.” He grimaced. “If we get out of here in time.”

“I don't want a second chance with you.”

“You loved me once. I can make you love me again.”

“You can't make me do anything. I choose. Always.”

“That's what I've always said. But I'm willing to give in . . . a little. For you.” He coughed. “The smoke is getting worse. I'm not standing here begging. No woman is worth dying for. But you may be worth living for.”

“It's the gold you want. And you can't get the gold away from here without dealing with Julius.”

“Maybe not under the usual circumstances, but the world is ending tonight. There's a chance Julius may end with it. Or that we can find a way to escape to someplace he'll never find us.”

“And you can be emperor,” she said sarcastically.

“Why not? I'd be a magnificent emperor.”

“In some primitive village hiding from Julius?”

“It wouldn't be primitive long if we were both there.”

He was exerting that charisma that had first drawn her to him and the force of his personality was almost overpowering. She mustn't be seduced by him. He was too dangerous.

But he was also beautiful as a god and possessed a reckless, wicked charm that made the danger seem worth risking.

“Don't give me all your trust,” he said. “Take it one step at a time. Just let me get you out of here.”