Editing Adventures of Dash Karp and Cat Flynn




== Dash's Bio ==
'''Daniel Ashton Karp'''
 
Born January 1, 1900 Batsto, New Jersey 

Father; Harrold Abner Karp 1876-1923 Batsto, New Jersey, 
died Atlantic City, NJ 

Mother; Maria Valasquez 1880-1907 Havannah, Cuba, 
died Batsto, NJ 

Uncle Bartram Hansel Karp 1870-???? Batsto, NJ, 
missing Luzon, Phillipines, 1898
 
Cousin Marcus Theodore Karp Chicago 1895
 
Cousin Gertrude Karp () Chicago 1893
 
Uncle Martin Calvan Karp 1871-1912 Batsto, NJ, died Batsto, NJ
 
Cousin Lucy Karp Manhattan 1888 

Grandfather Albert Vincent Karp 1842-1907 Strasbourg, Alsace-Lorraine, 
died Batsto, NJ
 
Grandmother Caroline Von Der Tann 1849-1907 Lutha, died Batsto, NJ

== Cat's Bio ==

'''Catarina Mariah Siobhan Flynn'''

Born June 21, 1910
 
Glenariff, Co. Antrim, Ireland

 
Father: Stephen Estavio Flynn 1877-1905, Glenariff Co. Antrim, Ireland
died: Belfast City 1905

Mother: Siobhan Moira Esmerelda Brannaghan 1880-1924 Glencorp, Co. Antrim, Ireland
died: Barbados, 1924
 
Siblings:

Michael Patrick Flynn 1895-1905

Dermot Seamus Flynn 1896-1905

*Eliza Sarah Flynn 1897-1897

*Riannah Mattia Flynn 1897-1897

Jessenia Gallia Flynn 1898-1904

Brandon Carrick Flynn 1899-1917

Meaghan Bridie Flynn 1900-1908

Padraigh Lorenzo Flynn 1901-unknown

Ellen Therese Flynn 1903-1924

Maisie Janine Flynn 1904-1918
* twins
 
Written records not kept by culture, official records rare and most destroyed in diaspora 1917-1922

 
Deported as indentured servant to Barbados September 13, 1922 with mother and sister.
 
Placed in the home of General Marshall Talliver and his wife Lorraine Vezier Talliver on British Territory of Barbados. Sister sent to the field houses.  Mother retained by Tallivers as laundress.


== Supporting Cast ==

'''Lorraine Talliver'''

Wife of General Talliver sent to North Brother Island for medical reasons and accompanied by Cat.


'''Horace Applewhite'''

Member of the Explorers Club and collector of rare art and artifacts. Employs Karp.



'''Mr. Lorenzo'''

Former member of the Explorers Club. Reportedly involved in slave trading and the occult. Collects rare and unusual artifacts of a supernatural reputation.


'''Ribbons'''

Karp's chauffeur and assistant. Very precise.


'''Willy'''

Elevator operator at the Wentworth House, where Karp's apartment is.


'''Joan Thornsbury'''

Woman 'friend' of Karp who he takes to Club Thirteen.


'''Gladys Rutherford'''

Antother woman friend of Karp.


'''Albert Garifini'''

An agent for Lorenzo.



== Items of Interest ==


== Places of Interest ==


== The Irish Crown Affair ==

The Irish Crown Affair



== Chapter 1  '''Dash''' ==

 
	'''Dash'''

 

Pa used to like to tell me, and often, "I rode with the Rough Riders up San Juan Hill and found your Momma on the other side like she was waiting for me!" Momma, for her part, would counter with her version of events. "I saw the big dumb Gringo tumble down the hill right to my feet and had to drag him out of the way of his own horse." Everyone would laugh then and Pa, without fail, would kiss Momma on the cheek. Thats the most enduring image I have of Momma. I was seven when she died. 

Pa managed to get transferred to the 10th Cavalry Regiment (Colored), the Buffalo Soldiers, so that he could remain in Santiago with the occupation and not leave his little 'Mexican Beauty'. As it turned out, Momma's parents left Mexico under some duress and Momma's father proudly clung to his Spanish-Mexican heritage and insisted his daughter was Mexican. 

On December 10, 1898 (the same day the Treaty of Paris was signed ending the war) Harold Abner Karp and Maria Juanita Valasquez were married in a small ceremony, in a small Catholic church in Santiago. A year later, Pa was honorably discharged from the Army and the young couple, about to become three, boarded a schooner bound for Miami. That's where I come into the world. 

Because Momma was so far long with child, Pa thought it best to wait out the impending birth right there in Miami before beginning the trek to New Jersey. He managed a few odd jobs to supplement the Army wages he had while they waited for me to arrive. Momma always said I refused to come into the old century, even though she thought I was coming everyday for a week, and no sooner had midnight struck to open the Twentieth Century, I clawed my way out and was smiling from the start. Both my parents loved to embellish the truth. 

Two weeks later, once Pa was satisfied everyone was happy and hail, he put his family on a northbound train and introduced wife and son to Batsto, New Jersey. 

It was a sleepy little village in the Pine Barrens where Pa's family did some cranberry growing and some glass blowing as well. Pa's family took immediately to the adorable 'Mexican Beauty' and my early years knew nothing but happiness. 

But 1907 wasn't quite as idyllic. First Gramma took fever and passed in February. She was a sweet woman who believed the world existed to make happy children. Only two weeks later, and it somehow seemed right, Grampa caught fever as well and coughed until it seemed his lungs gave out. 

Two months later, Cousin Lucy (Uncle Martin's illegitimate daughter) left Batsto for the excitement of New York. She had always been a troubled girl and Uncle Martin was filled with trepidation with her leaving. So was Momma, who had tried to be close to her, but with little success. 

Then came that day in August when Pa and Uncle Martin took me fishing for the first time on Batsto Lake. That day is still very vivid for me. The sun was brillaint on the water and I thrilled every time my line got a tug and there was smallmouth bass on the end of it. The passing of Gramma and Grampa were behind us and Uncle Martin had gotten used to the paucity of letters from Lucy. It was a happy day on the lake and my seven year old self could not concieve of anything that could end the day in sadness. 

I remember it was odd when we got back to the house. A strange sort of quiet as though the place had not been lived in for years and we were somehow trespassing in our own home. I think we all felt it because Pa and Uncle Martin looked at each other oddly a moment. Normally, Momma would be doing something. Anything. She rarely sat still except for a short bit at night if the family gathered in the parlor to tell each other stories. You could see it in her face how she loved such gatherings. But this day, there was no Momma rolling bread in teh kitchen, or hanging laundry outside or sweeping off the porch. I jumped, startled, when Pa dropped his tackle in the foyer and ran for the stairs, calling out, "Maria? Maria!" I wanted to run after him, but Uncle Martin caught my shirt collar and told me to stow Pa's tackle. Then suddenly came a wailing like I have never heard before or since. Pa had found Momma prone on top of the made bed, peaceful as could be as though she had just laid down for a rest. She was holding a photograph of the whole Karp clan in Batsto that had been taken the year before at the Fourth of July picnic by the lake. The doctor said he couldn't be sure what the cause was except it seemed her heart simply stopped. But Pa always insisted she knew before she laid down that she was about to breathe her last. He claimed Momma always knew things, but I could never get him to elaborate. 

For the next five years things went apace, but the glass blowing was bringing less and less business. Eventually, the glassworks was sold and the two brothers just worked on the cranberries. I was never sure how much money they made off of cranberries, but I do know I was never hungry, cold, or shoeless. 



Pa gave me a puppy for my eighth birthday. A retriever which I named Shilo. he was a good dog and a constant companion in a village where there happened to be no other boys my age. But in the fall of 1911 that happiness too was snuffed out. Batsto had suffered from a series of attacks on the small bit of livestock we maintained there. Over the course of four weeks from October into November, three cows from the Price's dairy farm were discovered mutilated and half eaten. A number of chickens, turkeys, goats and dogs had gone missing entierly, or found in the same condition as those cows. The Jersey Devil was blamed by some folks who believed in such things, as there had been sightings for the past several months all throughout South Jersey, but County Sheriif maintained it was a bear or perhaps even a rare cougar. 

It was just a few days later that Uncle Martin didn't show for breakfast and Pa found his brother belly down in the mud not far from where I had found Shilo. Unlike Shiloh and the other attacks, Uncle Martin wasn't bloodied and chewed. But his head was turned completely around and staring wide eyed to the sky, despite the rest of his body being belly down. This shook Pa in a fierce way. He had been fair well stricken with grief for a time with Momma's passing, but this was different. This was fear.

It was only a month later that Pa sold everything - lock, stock and barrel - to the Girard Trust Company (who would later take the whole Village of Batsto into receivership) and we moved to Atlantic City.

Seemed I hardly had a moment to collect my twelve year old wits when I found myself working as a stockboy in the Karp General Store on Ventnor Avenue in Atlantic City. It was quite the transition from sleepy village and lots of land to run around in, to the many blocks of buildings on a gridwork of streets. Hotels and taverns bigger than I ever imagined and filled with folks of an entirely different nature than Pa and me. In Batsto, no one stood high enough to look down at anyone else. But in Atlantic City there were plenty of blue bloods who had homes in Camden, or Philadelphia, or Haddonfield and only came to Atlantic City for fun. Imagine that! Folks who could spend time away from home just to frolic in the ocean and eat at fancy hotels. My young mind started to imagine what it might be like to be among them, though I didn't like how some of them treated Pa like he was too far beneath them.

But Pa remained unbothered by that and eventually the events in Batsto were behind us. Atlantic City also meant better schooling for me and Pa was incessantly checking on my studies. When the Great War broke out, I became an avid reader of newspapers, though usually they were issues that had been discarded by one of them blue bloods and already days old. Sometimes I even got a New York Times when I would make a delivery to one of the hotels. But read them all voraciously, along with the occasional adventure magazine if it happened to be discarded as well.

I was mesmerized by the stories of war. The personalities of the leaders. They might as well have been Gods to me. The Kaiser, the Czar, the King! The yellow journalism of the time permeated my young mind - now a teenaged mind - and before long I was loathing the Germans and Austrian and Turks with an irrantional hatred that certainly worried Pa. He tried to explain to me not to believe everything I read and that there were good men fighting - and dying - on both sides. I really did try to heed him, because Pa was all that was left in my life and he never lied to me before. But I was becoming a young man with a mind of my own and suddenly Pa seemed like maybe he wasn't so smart. How could he not hate the Central Powers! I showed him the political cartoons of German soldiers with dead babies on the end of their bayonets. I refused to believe the Amercian press would lie about such things!

And such wonders of warfare! Aeroplanes with guns mounted on them. Giant Dreadnought battleships that could level cities with their guns. Sneaky vessels that could sail beneath the waves and send deadly torpedoes to destroy their prey. It sure had me wide-eyed with wonder, and Pa noticed that look in my eyes. When the United States finally entered the war, I was seventeen and hell bent to go enlist and save the world for Democracy! But Pa had already made other arrangements for this strapping young man. Through the auspices of some of Pa's old army buddies, (including Teddy Roosevelt himself!) I was admitted to the Virginia Military Institute and spent my days in classrooms and drills while other men experienced the horrors of trench warfare. But some men became aviators, who were the new knights of warfare. Glamorous, dashing, brave men who captured the imaginations of the newspapers and the people. I was determined to be one of them.

I graduated in 1921 and Pa was there wearing his old cavalry uniform from the day he met Momma. It was small, and a bit threadbare just from age, but I never saw him look more proud. I was given a lieutenant's commission in the army, and worked my way in to the Army Air Service where I learned how to fly, and I learned just how much I loved it! I also learned I didn't much love army regulations. Discipline was agreeable enough. The army needed to have discipline. I made a number of friends both at VMI and in the Army Air Service, and distinguished myself as quite the capable aviator. Nonetheless, I was starting to feel boxed in and when Pa passed in 1923, I decided to let my commission lapse and returned to civilian life.

Not quite the average civilian life mind you. Pa, unbeknownst to me, had purchased small amounts of stock in some young companies after Momma passed. He never touched them and they grew into quite the inheritance for me. Not that I was suddenly some J.P. Morgan or anything, but the company that made the Model-T rewarded its strock holders very well. As did a certain bottling comoany that claimed to have the freshest taste on the market. Finances would not be a worry for a while.

I purchased a Curtiss Jenny and went into the air courier business in 1924 and even took the Oath of Mail Messengers so I could secure contracts with the U.S. Post Office. For some extra fun, I would sometimes perform at air shows doing stunts that drove the crowd wild. And the dames! Oh they loved the flyboys, all right. Didn't even matter if you took them up or not. Sometimes I think they just liked the goggles and the scarf and the flight jacket. We were a new breed of cowboy, some folks said, and I never stopped to consider or argue the point. I just enjoyed myself.

It was a life that suited me just fine. I didn't much care to let any grass grow under my feet, and not one of the dozens of women I had across the country were going to clip my wings. Occasionally I might take a passenger, but mostly it was sacks of mail in the beginning, but soon grew into a more special delivery service. It seemed blue bloods were always ready to splurge on specialized service just so they could brag to their friends how they had that box of cigars "specially" shipped from Cuba, and flown from Miami, or some such extravagance.

I got to meet all sorts of notable blue bloods in my travels and actually got to like a few of them. They came from the vast spectrum of American personalities and included actors and actresses, secretive industrialists, the eccentric wealthy and furtive politicians. The cargo was usually documents that had to be somewhere fast, but more and more it grew into items of value that the client believed was more secure by air than by ground. Museums made up some of my business and eventually this earned me some notice by the Explorers Club in New York City.

Landing at Roosevelt Field one day in 1926 with a package destined for the Explorers Club, I was met by two men who intended to rob me of my cargo. I always carried a sidearm when I flew and it came in handy that day. One of the robbers was killed, but the other I allowed to live so he could talk to the police. It was a little sticky with the police since the men were only armed with blackjacks and brass knuckles, but certain key members of the Club smoothed things out on my behalf. The incident made the New York Times and I even had my picture in the paper! After that, I worked almost exclusively for members of the Explorers Club and was even admitted myself.

The Exploreres Club proved a fertile pasture of opportunity and adventure, as well as being fairly lucrative. Before long, I was more than just a courier and delivery boy. Some clients came to trust me enough that they would send me ahead to some location to gather some preliminary information, or examine a possible purchase. One person with whom I began to develope a close bond was Horace Applewhite. He was a stockbroker who had done well for himself and had a keen interest in the genealogy of the many royal houses of Europe.

Indeed it was Applewhite who discovered that I had my own sampling of blue blood in me. I was rather shocked that my father never told me that my paternal grandmother had been born into the royal family of the former kingdom of Lutha. Today, Lutha was part of Yugoslavia, a patchwork of slavic countries knitted together by the League of Nations after the Great War. Most fascinating was the very idea that I was, if all proper peerage was followed, four hundred-and-twenty-second in line for the throne of King Alxeander I. Mind you I doubt anyone there even knew I existed, but what a conversation starter at the speak easy!

Applewhite's interest were purely intellectual and not financial. If something was missing, he wanted it found. If something was unexplained, he wanted it explained. Through the Explorers Club, he financed, or obtained the funding for, many research expeditions to all corners of the. If some priceless, historic artifact was found, he saw to it that it found its way to the institution he felt best deserved it. Occasionally, that institution was his personal collection. But more often than not it was donated to a national museum from the country of origin.

Because I was not among the 'learned fellows' in the archeological community, I was only a part of the smaller expeditions that were of less scientific value, but far more interesting to the press for the sensational or even salacious aspects of the story. Such as the White Queen of the Congo, the Devil Women of Madagascar, the Giant Rats of Sumatra, the Book of the Necronomicon, and many others. Few of them ever turned out to be exactly what was initially reported, though sometimes there was enough for a fantastic photo to be sent to the newspapers and magazines. In between these adventures, I sometimes tested new aircraft designs for the amateur inventors that populated the Explorers Club. 

In 1929 came the Crash. Although Applewhite had managed to secure adecent savings for himself, his funding for expeditions nearly dried. Now he was only interested in items of real value that could pay for the expedition, and hopefully return a small profit for himself. Applewhite became obsessed with certain legendary or missing treasures and was still capable of hiring agents around the world to do research. Usually, I was called in after the research to do the 'acquisition.' In the years after the Crash, the acquisitions were often less legal and more dangerous. So long as my own personal ethics weren't violated, I was happy to do the work.




 



== Chapeter 2 '''Cat'''==


'''Cat'''
	



 



The Glens of Antrim have long been considered the wonders of the North of Ireland. Nine in total, they range from farmland and field to forested highlands with waterfalls and secret pathways. It was in one such place, Glenariff, that a large population of Romnichal settled as far back as local history can recall. Apart, never quite a part, of the local culture, they lived in camps and travel was forever in their blood. Indeed, it is said that the Irish Gypsies were born to ride the wind and wave, though as so much that is said about their people....how much is charming poetic liscence and how much reality..well, we'll leave that to the reader to decide.




Among Clan Eireann there were several dozen families, one of which was the Flynn family. Steven as patriarch worked as a tinker, taking to the roads between country towns and into Belfast city for work, along with his own two eldest sons as soon as they could carry a pail. His wife Siobhan kept the family camp running with the aid and community of her own people, though where the merry sound of children running was throughout the Romnichal people, sadness too often visited the Flynns, most especially where their girl children were concerned. Married young, as were they all, and birthing young, Siobhan and Steven saw illness, hardship and the lack of medicinal cures take too many of their children over time. Siobhan kept to the Catholic ways, devoted even when she could not walk the miles from Glen to church, she kept her saints displayed and prayed with the fervor of the Virgin Mother herself for her children.




In the time of the Troubles, however, it was no good time to be Catholic in British Ulstermen Northern Ireland. It was never a good time to be Romnichal. Steven, as were so many, took up arms against the British and acted as both gun runner and thug as needed. It was in the uprising of 1910, downland of Belfast city that he found himself, as well as his two eldest (young though they were) caught in a British trap. Executed on his knees beside a dirt road, he watched Michael's body fall limp before his own world went black. Stories came back that Dermot, too, was left in that shallow ditch, but when the women went to carry back their dead he was not found. To this day it is assumed he died the same righteous but ultimately futile death as his Da and brother. 




With five young mouths to feed, Siobhan was in the same predicament as so many others were. The only joy to shine on her world that year was the birth of a girl child on the Summer Solstice. She always considered Catarina to be Steven's last gift to her. With parents and siblings olive of skin and ranging from chestnut to honey, the fair skinned raven haired child was said by some to be fae kissed from birth. Among her people there are many legends, customs and beliefs that have nothing to do with any man made church and everything to do with what they call the "Thin Spaces". After three hours of labor the girl child was spilled onto the green grass beneath a noon sky, a caul across her face that drew knowing nods and smiles from the women.




The plan had been to name the child, if female, Eireann Eileen Stephania in honor of her homeland and father. As Siobhan saw her child's dark eyes open, a quiet sort of depth to them as the pale body squirmed she broke with all tradition in naming trhe child then and there. Too many lost, she lifted the child, life cord a spiral connecting them and spoke her name as Catarina Mariah Siobhan. Back to a name from the old lands, melding with the name of the wind itself, her mother's seventh daughter, the name would live on, gods willing and grace allowed. 




Part 2 1910-1922




Catarina grew well despite less than sanitary and swank circumstances. Living amid the Clan Eiarran in Glenariff she took to the forested hills and secret paths as naturally as a doe. A petite child, she was quick to laugh, loved to play and had an affinity for the Thin Spaces from birth. Often as not she could be found sitting cross-legged near a fae ring chatting happily with someone that no one else could see. She grew to know the roots and herbs and flowers and their many uses and while the Troubles increased beyond Glenariff, her mother shielded her and her siblings from both war time and local trouble. Cat adored young children and the elderly, rarely spending time in idle gossip with her peers among the Clan. She was a wiry little worker, learning early that life was struggle but somehow she always seemed to be the one with a secret smile.




Youth suited the girl and it was not until she was seven that death crosed her path for the first time. Her brother Brandon fell ill after Samhain and though she brought him what herbs she could find in the frost covered ground and sat for hours singing to him and telling him stories, he grew sicker and sicker, the deep body shaking coughs wracking his body. It was close to midnight when his breath ceased, and yet she refused to leave his bedside, talking quietly with what she said was his spirit. Only as dawn broke did she open the wagon door, smiling faintly as her mother and sister tended to the body behind her. A strange girl. Touched by the sight. Fae kissed.




It was the thick cold damp of March that took her sister Maisie to her bed, broken by the couching that snapped ribs and took the color from her skin. Again, it was Catarina who brought her teas and sachets of roots and herbs preserved from the fall before. No remedy nor softly sung tunes could save the girl, and she too passed from the coughing sickness that Cat would not come to know as Tuberculosis for many years yet. Another small grave joined the others and again Siobhan turned to her saints and statuary for solace. Strangely, Cat spent many an evening as the weather warmed running and playing near the graves, laughter heard, and the other women sometimes paused their tasks, certain they heard more than one child, though whenever seen, only the raven haired dirt streaked young Cat was visible.




No matter how fierce her mother's efforts to protect her children, especially her youngest, life intruded again when her brother Padraigh left the Glen to work and failed to return. Rumors were rife that he had joined Sinn Fein, but others believed he simply walked away from the poor conditions and the more nefarious rumors held he turned his back on Romnichal ways and followed a Protestant woman into the world of the Others. When WWI ended times were harder than ever in County Antrim and there was a movement afoot to deport and rid their fair Isle of undesirables, among whom the Romnichals were counted.




It could have been a slow trickle, but that was not the way the jackboots of the British military operated. It was December of 1921 and they descended on the Glens, Glenariff among them. Cat found herself herded into wooden sided wagons with her mother and sister, bereft as she watched the beloved hills and streams disappear as she was taken to the city of Belfast and housed from December until March in a warehouse in the north Londonderry district. Ill fed, ill clothed, the barefoot twelve year old was as much a prisoner as those who raised arms, confused and scared but spending her time caring for the very many who suffered grievously from the damp and cold and lack of food and medicine. No more herbs or roots to forage here, she sang too many across the veil to count. As spring came around that 1922 she found herself once more being transported, this time to a town hall where men in white suits and puffing on long cigars roamed the platforms. She was curious about what was going on, but it was not until a man paused by her and her sister that she knew, somehow, that her life was about to change. 

His name was Lucas Merritan and he was an employee of General Talliver, seeking indentured servants for his master's Barbados home. He certainly had an eye for her older sister, a shy girl who Cat could see at once was terrified. He tugged Ellen to the floor, directing her to dance, to entertain like a gypsy by Cat knew her sister preferred books over bohemia and she did not miss the annoyed surprise when Cat herself stepped down, pushing her sister back gently. A vivid smile and vibrant confidence rolled from the fair skinned child as she danced, the music entirely in her own mind. Bare feet stamped the wooden boards and though there was no costume, no tambourine, nothing but a dirty too thin child...the glamour held. 




They sailed for Barbados within three days, Ellen and her mother as well as Cat. The trip was difficult and unpleasant, but there was a trembling edge of curiosity for the child. Convinced she would at least be with her mother and sister, she stepped foot onto Barbados on the docks of Needham's Point on the southwestern coast of the tropical island. She clambered into the straw filled wagon with Siobhan, crying out as Ellen was seized by Lucas and drawn to a separate wagon. It would not be for some time until Cat came to know that her sister would serve her time as a servant in a far different way than Cat herself.




At twelve she was worked in many ways in the grand home of the General and his wife. The days were long and filled with menial tasks but she found a measure of joy in the sound of the ocean, the sway of the trees and even in the company of her fellow servants. The General was as kind a master as one could be who bought and worked children forced from their homelands could be. He was strict but never abusive with her and his wife was a solemn sorrow eyed woman after the loss of their beloved Aradia Jenice to an accidental drowning in the sea. It was after the child's death that Cat became close with the woman, and some said it was the drowned girl who joined them on their dusk walks along the beach fronts. Cat was the first to hear the shallow rattle in Lorraine's chest, to see the creeping greyness of her skin.




She was acutely aware of the bond between the General and his wife, and she found herself packing trunks as she was to be sent with Lorraine to a new place, a place they said treatment might be had. A mysterious somewhere called North Brother Island, located in America in a city called New York. She was only thirteen yet when they sailed, tears spilling as her mother waved from the dock. Her sister was unable to see her off, but even as the ship steamed away from turquoise waters she held a measure of hope. 




Maybe this new island would have the herbs and roots that would help Miss Lorraine. And a life cast to the winds, with travel at its core.....well...she was a Romnichal by blood, perhaps it was her destiny to be found there. 



Bio Part 3


North Brother Island was the new home of Riverside Hospital, a location to quarantine those who were suffering with contagious and all too often deadly diseases. It was more than well appointed, with Cat's favorite area being the stained glass gallery with its wrap around porch. When they first arrived in 1923 the Hospital specialized in typhus and tuberculosis, in fact word was that the lady in the laundry, Mary, was somehow integral in the spread of the disease. Cat kept her distance, holding the beliefs and superstitions of her people she also carried herbs and talismen against illness. It was not common for any of the residents to have serving girls and the nuns were more than happy to scorn the girl as a dirty gypsy and shoo her away at every turn. Luckily, Lorraine's money and clout as well as Cat's strange ability to know when someone would take a turn for the worse bought her the favor of the nurses. 
More than once she was found sitting crosslegged on the bed of a frail man or woman, singing softly and speaking in quiet whispers, the melange of Romnichal and Gaelic not spoken by any others there and yet the clouded eyes would focus on her fair face and raven hair, and slowly, peacefully, their spirits would leave the broken flesh and she would stay a while, singing them across. Make no mistake, she was as much admired for her smile and ability to spread a sense of peace as she was feared for her differences. Much of her time was spent with Miss Lorraine, tending to her needs, washing her laundry, wheeling her along the green pathways of the island. For fifteen months she stayed by the woman's side, listening to her tales of young life on Barbados, of life with the General. But as time went on, the stories became more a mixture of coherence and dream tales. She knew Miss Lorraine was fading, that the sickness filling her lungs and wracking her body was not responding to the treatments or to the fresh air so touted as key to recovery. 


The cold rains of March were sweeping across the Island in the early morning, the fifteen year old girl sat once more upon a bed, singing softly, her hands clasped tightly around the brooch in her hands. Emerald set in gold, Miss Lorraine had been give it as a gift by her mother in law in Britain many years ago. The piece was worth a small fortune for the gem alone, but the tale behind it as a piece taken from the coffers of Belfast long long back when the British first staked claim to what had been the Irish monarch's goods.......well, Cat was pretty sure it was a legend only. To her, it was precious for the woman who had given it to her, told her to keep it, use it to make her way. The woman who had called her daughter before the life faded from her eyes. 


Funerals and such were rare on the Island, too many bodies and not enough families to dare set foot on the Island to see them off. Cat was there though, blue eyes haunted as she watched the plain pine box lower into the simple grace, a single cross marking the resting spot of Miss Lorraine and the end of whatever path she had come to know in life. The nurses asked her to stay on, to continue to help, but the nuns wanted the fae kissed Gypsy gone and set in motion a plan to have her returned to Barbados, property as it were of the General. That was all Cat needed to hear for her to be very certain that she was not going back to that life. Standing on the edge of the cemetery on the Island she could see the buildings of New York City across the water rising high and close. The weather warmed and the Solstice came, her sixteenth birthday finding her wearing all she owned, two dresses and a coat, some coin and the brooch in her pocket and a spirit unable to conceive of failure as she snuck aboard the cargo ferry that departed, having dropped its food and linens. 


Summer 1926 was a bustle in the streets of lower Manhattan. A girl alone was easy prey for too many and yet Cat was not quite like other women. The Romnichal had a gift of spinning speech into truths from pure lies and she managed to parlay a small room in the Blue Star boarding house in exchange for telling the fortune of the landlord's wife, a corpulent Scotswoman poor enough to not give the Gypsy girl overmuch trouble. With the nation's liquor dry in principle, Cat soon came to know precisely the sort of people who knew which alley doors to knock on to find the party. She was not a drinker, but she was young enough and able to portray innocent well enough to run bottles for the Broken Anchor in the alley between Mott and Elizabeth. That was how it started but her raven hair and slim build, combined with a naturally outgoing personality soon drew the eye of one of the speak easy's managers. 


Joseph was a straight up thug really, hailing from Belfast though, he had the scent of home and as he spent more and more time with her at his private table in the club the pair bonded. He, clearly, saw in her the budding cutpurse and charming front. She, to naive by half as sixteen became seventeen, saw him as a source of safety and strength in a city that was no one who lived there's idea of a golden American dream. Oh she knew his friends and partners were criminals to the last of them, but she was for better or worse at ease in their company. They kept her safe and clothed, fed and sheltered and the tasks they asked in return were far less onerous than what many young girls had to sacrifice. 


It was Autumn of 1927 when she lay with him for the first time, utterly clear that while it was not love, it was comfort and touch and she found that she quite enjoyed the physicality. Known as his girl, she made her money reading palms, telling fortunes, reading tea leaves and generally allowing him to exploit her exotic heritage. It was one moonlit night on the roof of the boarding house beneath a full moon that he first saw her dance. The dances she knew were alive, sensual, uninhibited and filled with the wild freedom of the Romnichal and he got the spark of an idea. Much more coin to be made on stage than in petty number running and bottle smuggling. He set her up under the stage name Exotica, Gypsy Flower of the Far East...laughable really given her coloring. But in the revealing dress of her people and in the smoky darkness of the clubs, no one cared what her name really was. Her clothing stayed on, and she rebuffed all efforts to bring her home, but it was not the life she sought. 

Over the course of the next six years she became a well known entertainer, at least in the circles she traveled in. Queen of the back alleys was better than servant in the high court, no? She took advantage of the mystique of her heritage even though there were precious few opportunities to really touch the spiritual here, catering to those who paid well for private tea leaf parties or seances. Always careful to pull back from the reality of the mournful spirits, by experience knowing that even the best paying clients did not really want to know how close their dear departed were.


 

== Chapter 3 "The Gypsy and the Jewels"==


'''''[[Dash]]'''''

Applewhite, whom I often called 'Horsey' (and sometimes Horse-face, if he was being disagreeable) caught a fever in 1930 for the Irish Crown Jewels which had been stolen in 1907. He was convinced the theft was still, in historical terms, too fresh not to be uncovered. The fact that the great Sherlock Holmes himself had not solved the case did not deter Applewhite in the least. He hired teams of researchers in London and Dublin to scour every scrap of record they could find, including notes by Holmes's assisstant Dr. Watson.

The trail, if it was a legitimate trail, went from Dublin, to Antwerp, to the British possession of Barbados where it seemed to grow cold. Then, just a few weeks ago, Applewhite was visiting North Brother Island where he sometimes made donatiions. In one of those strange and unusual circumstances, Apllewhite made reference to a possible trip to Barbados (which he never undertook personally) which prompted one of the nuns to mention the passing of a British General's wife just seven years prior. That's when I was called in.

It became my sole mission to learn everything about Lorraine Talliver and her husband the General. But sometimes Applewhite overlooked the finer details, and in this case, my attention focused on the servant girl that had accompanied Mrs. Talliver and stayed with her until her death. Of course, this didn't mean I expected to find the Irish Crown Jewels! I personally believed if they had not been sold by now and turned up somewhere, then they were gone forever.

Still, I was being paid well enough, so I started my hunt for a young gypsy girl named Catarina. I liked the name, I did. Something exotic and even royal about it and I must admit some of Applewhite's affection and interest in royalty was rubbing off on me. Afterall, I too had some blue blood!

It took some digging among the nurses and nuns at North Brother Island, but a grainy photograph finally turned up of Mrs. Talliver being tended to by her young servant. Granted, the photo was eight years old, but at least it was something. Despite the poor quality of the photo, there was something haunting about her face, and something hauntingly familiar. For all I knew, the girl could be anywhere in the world by now and I might have considered the case closed and cold, but Applewhite was the money-bags and insisted I pursue everything.

Every direction I took came to a dead end and that old grainy picture of some far too young gypsy girl was recognized by no one outside of North Brother Island. I then started checking all the pawn shops and every fence I knew in the city, but no one knew anything about that jewelry. Of course, I only explained they were family heirlooms someone was trying to recover. Had I mentioned the Irish Crown Jewels, I would have drawn too much unwanted attention. This case was cold and dead and I tried to tell Applewhite that who then made some mention of a trip to Barbados. But no matter how hard I tried to shake the case and turn it back over to Applewhite, it always seemed to come back to me.

I needed a break finally and took Joan Thornsbury to Club Thirteen which was dry and mostly repsectable. I had not been there since before the Irish Jewels caper came my way and when I walked in and looked to the stage I literally slapped my hand over my face. There she was! No wonder the face in the photograph looked so familiar...I had seen that face half a dozen times before! I felt like such a chump and Joan stood there with her hands on her flared hips waiting for me to follow the maitre d' to the table.

The woman dancing on stage in such an alluring fashion was none other than Exoctica, Gypsy Flower of the Far East! How did I miss that? How did that very title not pop into my head in all those weeks I was asking around about a young gypsy girl. Except, this was no girl dancing on the stage. I had seen her at Club Thirteen and other clubs before and heard she did some fortune telling as well. Under my damn nose she was all this time!

As soon as the gypsy left the stage, I gave Joan the bum's rush out the door and into a cab. She wasn't happy, but she knew sometimes my line of work necessitated hasty exits. I was sorry I had given Ribbons, my chauffeur, the night off, nor was I prepared to go tailing someone either. I was dressed in one of my finer suits, for one thing, and did not even have my .45 with me. I did have my wits, however, and hurried around to the back alley to catch her leaving by the stage door, but after not seeing her exit, I went back into the club through the door and immediately ran into one of my many old flames. "Danny!" she called out to me and that reminded me I had not seen her in years. Applewhite had taken to calling me Dash by combining my first and middle names and it pretty much stuck as my moniker. Somehow, I didn't really mind it. Kay pressed herself up against me, but I was in no mood for her amorous attentions. I held her back and peppered her with questions about Miss Exoctica. Between Kat and the stage manager, I got Exoctica's address and hurried on my way by foot.



She never left her room at the boarding house, having hidden in the walls her money and the precious brooch. She was content to live a life that seemed small but she was unaware that there were those who seemed to know she was somehow more than she pretended to be. She was twenty-three when she returned home near dawn, unlocking her door with the skeleton key she kept around her neck, the icy cold was the first clue that something was wrong. The window by the fire escape had been smashed, her few belongings tossed around carelessly, bed overturned, mattress sliced open. Blue gaze went to the wall, the paneling intact and she sprinted to it, prying it free and almost fainting to see her cash and brooch there. She tucked the money and gem into her bra, a frightened look around when she heard footsteps in the hall, heavy ones and heading this way fast. Cops or culprits, she did not care as she raced to the fire escape, feet crunching broken glass as she sought to get as far away from the epicenter of trouble as possible. 


She couldn't go to her contacts, they were all or almost all criminals and might well be behind this. Her greatest fear was that she was to be impressed into the debauchery of prostitution, an angry rebuffed patron perhaps, it happened all too often. She could have no way of knowing it was something far deeper and more dangerous.

== Chapeter 4 ==

'''A Dashing Rescue'''

When I got to the boarding house, I notice two other men turning into the alley and my gut just told me these were goons up to no good. I had no reason to think tyhey were after the gypsy, but I chose to slow my own approach just the same. Nice and soft and easy I snuck into the alley to hear footsteps clanking on the fire escape. I looked up and saw my mark descending in a hurry, but one of those goons was waiting for her right underneath. Just as she got to the bottom, the goon wrapped her up in one arm and clapped a hand on her mouth. "Now be quiet sister and I don't hafta break no arms." 

He started to drag her back towards me and thats when I stepped in and played a bluff that I had only seen in the movies. "Let the girl go and I won't need to fill you full of led." I had my hand in my coat pocket and pointed it at him like I was holding a concealed gun. But I guess I wasn't threatening enough with it.

"Don't be stupid, fella," the goon warned me. "Mister Lorenzo don't like no interference in his bizzyness." Mr. Lorenzo? This was getting worse. Lorenzo was a former member of the Explorers Club who had been expelled on suspicion of criminal activity that involved white slavery and narcotics. Rumors were rampant about his strange activities, and he also had a reputation as some sort of Swengali where the ladies were concerned.

The goon was big, but I was bigger, so acting on impulse and arrogance, I rushed him and punched him full in the face. A bit of blood spattered from his nose, his eyes shut, but he was still holding the gypsy when he hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. There was no time to waste and I offered my hand. "No time for explanations right now, Miss Flynn. There's another goon like this one just around the corner. We need to hurry."

 
Her heart was racing as she descended the metal ladders, she'd not even removed her stage makeup yet and the hand that clasped over her mouth smeared the deep red lipstick as she shrieked, his arm painful around her waist.  Her feet kicked, connecting solidly with his shin, but his grin only tightened.  Blue eyes went wide as she saw yet another man there and then she was on the ground, the man's grip slacking as he had been laid out cold.  She stared,scrambing back from the large man but he knew her name and in times like these, that was enough.  She seized his hand, a frightened look around as she got to her feet. 
"Who? And why? And who are you?" 
Her Irish brogue evident in her fear though she was generally good at hiding it.

Her hand was small and soft and disappeared in mine. Not sure why I noticed that, but I did. I gave a tug to get her to her feet and we exited the alley in a hurry. 
"Karp. Dash Karp," 
I made my standard introduction as we reached the street and I hailed a cab. Luck was with me and a Yellow Taxi veered to the sidewalk to answer my hail. I thrust the gypsy inside and turned to see the other goon coming out of the alley. 
"Fourth and Thirty-fourth," 
I instructed the cabbie and added the standard, 
"...and step on it!" 
Through the rear window, I saw the goon trying to hail a cab of his own, but we were already turning a corner and out of sight. Only then did I take a moment to stare at the gypsy girl next to me. I saw that her lipstick was smeared, so I reached in my breast pocket and handed her my hanky. 
"Your lipstick, Miss Flynn. You might want to fix it." 

She shivered slightly, no time to grab a coat as she had run, a surreptitious pass of hand over her chest, the stiff thickness of her padded bra concealed what was hidden within. Her hair was still done up from the show, make up dark and exotic around the eyes, her skin tone darker from the pancake makeup.  She slid to the far side of the seat, glancing to the driver then taking the handkerchief.
"Up town?"
To her anything north of Houston was up town, well used to the darker underbelly of the city.  She used the rearview to wipe at the smears.
"So what was that? If you have a beef with Johnny or his boys, ain't nothing to me.  I keep outta his business."
Blatant lie but hell, she didn't know the man and as far as she knew, he could be one of any number of enforcers.

"Yes, Miss Flynn, uptown," 
and I was furtively glancing out the back for any tails. 
"Thats where I lay my head. Now don't get any wrong ideas, I don't normally take strange women there, but seems someone else wanted to horn in on our party." 
Another glance behind revealed no tails yet and I was starting to feel a bit better. 
"But if those goons don't know me, then its a good place to cool our heels." 
I leaned forward so I could get a better look at the cabbie. It was just something I liked to do as an exercise in memory. 
"I don't know Johnny or his boys, Miss Flynn, but I am sure if you co-operate fully, we can have you back with Johnny by morning." 
I believed that would be the case too. I had no expectations of finding the jewels in her possession and a short interrogation should reveal that. 

She studied the man in profile, he was large, impressively handsome even if he was scaring her.  Her brows rose.
"Your place? Cooperate?"
She sat forward. 
"I do not know what kind of woman you think I am, but as grateful as I am for your...timing....back there....I am not that kind of grateful." She wrapped her arms at her waist softly, she knew she was nowhere near safe in life, ever really, but she would use what gift of gab she had to try and dissuade whom she took, thus far, for another underworld sort.
"And after what my place looked like? Not sure I want to be anywhere near Johnny." 
Her hands twisted as she looked out the window, the enormity hitting her. 
"He was supposed to be keeping me safe."
A soft snort of derision.

I really didn't care about Johnny, or what he was to her. As far as I was concerned, I only needed a few minutes with her to put this whole jewel caper to rest once and for all. I hated dead ends and I was still convinced thats exactly where I was heading now. When the taxi stopped where I indicated, I flipped the cabbie a sawbuck and ushered Catarina, aka Exoctica, into Wentworth House. Without word, Willy, the elevator operator, lifted us to the sixth floor. I didn't utter a word until i had her inside my apartment. A suite, really. Well appointed and obviously a touch on the swank side compared to what she was used to. 
"Please, make yourself comfortable Miss Flynn," 
But I wasn't sure how comfortable she would feel when I bolted the door as a precaution against intruders (not really expected) and her escape (more likely). I lifted the reciever on the phone and spoke quickly. 
"Connect me with Applewhite," 
I told the house operator. After a moment, I said, 
"Keep trying and ring me when you have him."
I hung up the phone and turned to Catarina. 
"Can I get you anything, miss?" 

She knew her eyes widened as she looked around the suite, it was definitely high class by her standards, a sharp look at the door when she heard the bolt click into place, blue eyes surveying for windows.  She moved toward one, a lovely view but no fire escape.  Shit. She walked past a setee, keeping it between herself and him casually.
"Yeah, you know some water would be nice, thanks....Mr. Karp." 
She smiled, head tossed a bit, the charm an easy glamour usually and she wanted him out of the room.  She had heard enough half conversations in her time to know something was not kosher here and diversion was often all the ploy one needed.


"Have a seat, please. I'll be right back." 
So much for my well stocked, if illegal, liquor cabinet. 
"I assure you, Miss Flynn, you will not be harmed. I only have a few questions for you." 
If she refused to answer, I had no real options available to me. But she didn't know that yet. For some reason, however, I wanted her to know that. I was no kidnapper or torturer. If she demanded to leave, I would let her go. No matter how angry Applewhite became. Though Applewhite was no kidnapper or torturer either. Since she was only drinking water, I decided against helping myself to the cognac I often enjoyed at this time of night. As I handed her the glass of water from the spigot, I asked my first question. 
"Are you the same Catarina Flynn who stayed with Mrs. Talliver at North Brother Island until her death seven years ago?" 
It was the first establishment question. I already knew it was her, but it was always good to start with the question you knew the answers to. 

When he walked to the spigot she took a few steps toward the door when she felt the wad of cash and the brooch slipping.  Her back was to him as a hand snaked down the front of her dress, trying to stabilize things, spinning back as he spoke, startling her by being so quick, her arm wrapped high under her boobs.
"I should have asked for whiskey." 
A quiet lament but genuine.  Heels sank into the soft carpet as she crossed to the setee and perched at the edge,blue eyes turning to him with a shrewd narrowing at the question.
"How do you know that? Are you related to Miss Lorraine?" 
And fear curled low in her belly, recalling well the plan years back to send her back to Barbados, was this man some sort of retrieval agent?
"She was a wonderful woman, sweet as nectar she was, a shame the gods called her home so early in life." 
Genuine sorrow in her voice even as the curled arm pressed the brooch almost painfully against her breast.

Her posture seemed odd, but I considered the likelihood of her being nervous. The poor dear. At six-foot-two, I know I can be intimidating, and my voice, according to others, had a leonid quality to it. 
"I'm afraid I didn't know the woman. Were you aware the General, her husband, passed only a year later? It was syphilis, as I understand it." I regretted making that report, but it was the truth and I hoped it would help open her up some. 
"Now, Miss Flynn, I want you to understand I am not with the authorities. I have no interest in your legal status in this country or what you've been doing for the last seven years. Did Mrs. Talliver give you any items of value? Any jewelry perhaps?" 


Her hand holding the glass shook and a hand came to her mouth.
"I....no..."
She stood, pacing, her heels making no sound in the soft carpet.
"Syphillis? Gods above." 
Her hands went to her hair, feeling the stiffness of spray and the beaded hair wrap she still wore.
"I had no idea." 
Her voice sad, gaze dropping to a small shadow box on the shelf, hand reaching to touch the small medal in it, a soft pause as her head rose, blue eyes distant.
"Ohhhh...I am so sorry.  You were close."  
Her eyes closed a moment and  she smiled. 
"He never did like the smell of the cigars your grandfather sent did he?"
That was the thing with Catarina, she sometimes forgot that not everyone could see and know what she could, and much as her hard shell exterior was a necessity....there was a far softer young woman in there. 
"And if you're not with the cops, why do you want to know? Do I look like I have such riches and wealth Mr. Karp?" 
Trying to chuckle but shaken, fingers still touching the medal.

Well this was a fine how-do-you-do! I picked up a girl that belonged in the funnyf farm! 
"I wasn't close..." 
He started, but she continued and I was at a loss for a moment. I shook my head when she seemed to be addressing me and I refused to ask who she'd been talking to. 
"Do you have any keepsake from her......" 
And then the phone rang. 
"Karp here," 
I answered. 
"You're never going to guess who I have in my apartment, Horsey," 
I said with a smile. 
"The gypsy girl!" 
Silence. 
"Well no, we just..." 
Silence and a grimace on my face. 
"No! I haven't tried any such...." 
And I was interrupted again. 
"I was just getting to that, Horsey, but I don't she's going to be any help." 
Now my head was nodding. 
"Of course, of course, but," 
And I turned my head to talk quieter, though I was certain she could still hear me. 
"I think she may be in some sort of trouble with Lorenzo." 
Silence. 
"I have no idea, and I can fill you in tomorrow, but I think you should send a car for her and take her to the chateau if she's willing." Silence, and a sneer. 
"Here?" 
My eyes went wide and I turned to look at her again. 
"But she doesn't even know me!" 
Silence. 
"I'll ask but if she doesn't want to, I'm not making her." 
Silence. 
"Well you just make sure you have two cars here at seven a.m." 
A roll of eyes. 
"Oh cut it, Horse-face! I said two cars. This is why you pay me, to handle the heavy lifting." 
I smiled then, as much to Cat as for my own sake. I hung up the phone, and my smile slowly faded. 
"I need to ask, Miss Flynn, would you mind sleeping here tonight? Tomorrow, with your permission, you will taken to my employer's estate outside the city where we can discuss things in greater detail." 

She took her hand off of the medal on display from Dash's father's days in the army.  Turning to blatantly listen to the conversation, letting the fact that she had in fact been talking to Dash about his deceased but not departed father fade.  The reference to 'that gypsy girl' was not unusual, and she did cultivate the image for profit and survival, but she was still soft enough on the inside for it to ache.  She watched and listened to him talk, admiring the line of his shoulders before she felt the heat of a soft blush, arms folded, a strategic shift and a wince as the brooch dug in. 
"Who is the Horse? And why do you care about what Miss Lorraine might have given me?" 
She was curious, and also certain that for both sentimental and practical reasons she was not going to give away the one gift she had ever been given with no strings attached.  Oh sure, men had given her flowers, clothing, even jewelry, but they gave it to Exotica, the Gypsy Dancer, not to Catarina of Glenariff. 
"And she did give me a gift, but it is not something I am going to part with, you should know that now."

She had not responded to his 'invitation', but I am a patient man. Normally, it would be too soon for me to share information, but I was increasingly convinced this poor girl really knew nothing. 
"Ahhh....Horsey is one Horace Applewhite; a man very interested in artifacts and art and making sure it gets back to the rightful owners." 
I was almost convinced she had nothing of interest until she mentioned receiving a gift from the late Mrs. Talliver. I'm sure the immediate curiosity flashed on my face. 
"She did? May I ask what it was exactly?" 
But before letting her answer further, I decided to explain my own reasons for asking. 
"Let me explain..." 
I walked to the liquor cabinet then and decided to have that cognac now. 
"In 1907, the Irish Crown Jewels were stolen from Dublin Castle and have never been recovered. Horsey....Applewhite...has gone to great trouble and expense to find those jewels. The trail, tenuous it may be, took us to your Mrs. Talliver. Personally, I would not have believed the jewels even made it to Barbados, let alone to America with a  sick woman. But, I have to ask. Where is the gift you were given?" 

"You have any whiskey in there Mr....did you say your name was Dash?"
Her brogue was back and she eyed him a long moment before she stepped from her heels, moving back to the  setee and sitting crosslegged. 
"It is...safe."
Brows furrowed some, wanting to rub her face but the makeup would smear everywhere. 
"Crown Jewels of the Irish or the filthy jackboots?" 
No disguising the hatred in her tone for the British. 
"It is an emerald brooch, about so big, the stone."
Holding out her palm and tracing the size of the palm. 
"But I will throw it in the East River before I let the jackboots have it back, friend of yours or no." 
And her chin rose, the stubborn Romnichal evident in her gaze, all cocksure and tough in the samw way a puffed up kitten might be. 
"And I will agree to stay on three counts....you sleep on the couch, your shower has hot water and you hurry with that whiskey." 
A small smile quirked, the girl behind the stage make up peeping through.

"You may call me Dash if I may call you Catarina...Miss Flynn." 
I nodded to her request for whiskey, half expecting that to be her choice. While she spoke, I enjoyed my cognac, but when Cat even hinted at showing some claws, just a small bit of sympathy faded away. I set my cognac down and started to pour her whiskey, nodding as she recounted what she would do before the 'jackboots' could get their hands on whatever it was she was holding on to. I still wasn't sure it was the jewels even when she described it because she was only describing one item! It soiunded like the diamond star of the Order of Saint Patrick. Still, I wanted to see it. 
"I do hope it is safe, if its what I think it is. Applewhite believes it belongs to the Irish people and, if recovered, he would see to it that it was returned to Dublin Castle." 
I took my time with my cognac, then took my time pouring her whiskey, and took my time bringing it to her. 
"Evenings and mornings can be iffy for a hot shower. I will sleep in my own bed, thank you very much," 
And I finally delivered her whiskey. 
"You can sleep in the guest room and I will have some feminine toiletries delivered in the morning." 
I stepped away then to return to my cognac. 
"One last thing," 
I smiled, 
"I never hurry anything on command." 

She ducked her chin some. 
"You have a guest room?" 
She did not realize  how backwater she probably sounded to a man of means such as him, but coming from where she did, the idea of an apartment having more than one bedroom was alien to her. She took the whiskey, startled by his words of not being commanded, she gave him a cheeky smile.
"I'll remember that, and Catarina is fine.  Let me ask you, why does he want it to go back?  Miss Lorraine wanted me to have it.   
She swallowed down some whiskey, wincing at the burn, not sure if she could speak openly with him, she changed tack, sliding close enough to take his hand, flipping it palm up, studying his hand and catching a breath.
"Oh my...your life line is very deep....so is your heart line, though it has started to spread very thin, many threads."
Fingers delicate as she traced the lines.

"Applewhite is a deep intellectual, a lover of antiquities, a collector of art," 
I started to explain, but there was so much more to say about Applewhite that no one ever really asked him about before. 
"He is an honest man and just likes to see things in their proper place. Or at least what he believes is the proper place. I assure you, if you have the item he seeks, he will pay you quite well for it." 
When she took my hand and started tracing lines, I felt my brows knit together. My first instinct was to pull my hand away, but I have to admit her touch was pleasing. Even soothing. I smiled and as her words faded, I finally managed to free my hand of hers. 
"You are quite the disarming girl, Catarina, but I'm afraid I don't much buy into palm reading and fortune telling. Anyway, no one is going to force you to give up anything, but Applewhite will sure do his best to convince you." 
My fingers curled against my own palm where she touched it only a moment ago. I missed the touch already, but I was also trying to erase the 'lifelines' she had traced. For me, it was so much hocus-pocus, though there were times I wondered. 

She gave a delicate sniff at the mention of being paid.
"Many talk money but few deliver Dash."
A small salute of her whiskey glass and a sip taken.  She was not a big drinker, despite her heritage, but the warmth was nice as the chill of reality settled in.  Her home, sloven as it was, was no longer an option, her job....well, likely no safer.  A hand squeezed his forearm softly, noting the muscle.
'Tis a rare man who believes such gifts at first sight, you're far from alone in that." 
A pat pat given, not her first rebuff on such matters, she was a pro.
"Did you know those two men?"

I couldn't decide if I wanted to watch her hand or her eyes. For the moment, I watched her hand squeeze my arm. 
"Not exactly my first 'sight', as you put it," 
Because I have seen some odd things in my days with the Explorers Club. 
"You mean the goons that tried to nab you? Never seen those two, but goons are goons." 
I shot my grey eyes right into hers then. There was another wrinkle in this matter that was quite unexpected. I honestly didn't think anyone else had connected Miss Exoctica to the Irish Crown Jewels. In all the time I've been hunting them down I never got a sense that anyone else was on the trail at all. 
"Do you know Mr. Lorenzo, Catarina? Are you in some sort of trouble with him?" 

The mention of the Explorer's Club lifted a brow and she lifted her hand from his arm, a self conscious smile as she shook her head.
"No, I have never even heard of him.  Though I may know him by another name, many use....aliases...as it were."
She almost physically jerked when those eyes caught hers, a rare lapse in facade and she was suddenly glad she was still in stage makeup, teeth catching at her lower lip as she dropped her gaze away.
"Honest, I know I am Romnichal but we are not all as people say." 
And her chin rose, those deep sapphire eyes meeting his, a stubborn little jut of chin, life having handed her many reminders about the way her people were too often viewed.

I consider myself a worldly man and though I was aware of the term 'Romnichal' and I had no preconcieved connotations to attach to it. Now for gypsies, there were a slew of connotations! 
"Are you really a gypsy? I thought maybe that was just a stage act." 
I kept my cool grey eyes locked to her pretty blues. Mostly because the were pretty and it was hard to draw away. But alos because it seemed to have an affect upon her. 
"I've never know Lorenzo to use an alias, Catarina. He's bad news and I think he likes it that way." 
Then I started doing a little math in my head. Palm reading plus fortune telling plus gypsy. Lorenzo was known for his interests in the occult and now I had to wonder just what else this gypsy girl had besides the Irish Crown Jewels. Lorenzo was mad, a determined collector of occult items said to have mystrical qualities. 
"Is there anything else in your possession of a strange, unusual nature?" 

She laughed, not offended by his question as it was so clearly genuine. 
"I am a proud gypsy indeed.  Pureblood, seventh daughter of a seventh daughter.
Her smile reached her eyes, a small tuck of hair behind the shell of an ear.
"Oh....Lorenzo......could he also go by Giuseppe?" 
And then fear crept over her face, a shiver seen. 
"There is a man who has come to the club and  has asked to watch my sessions with some clients.  Oh....seance sessions that is."
She turned a ripe pink, that could have sounded simply scandalous. 
"I said no of course.  Say what you may about it, but my abilities are fae given and real.  And well Johnny knows it, too." 
It had never occurred to her that she herself might be an occult objet-de-arte of sorts for some.

Seances too! Fae given! Oh Applewhite was going to love her! Applewhite was a man of science who hoped against hope he could prove something of a supernatural nature. Because I was such a skeptic, he often sent me to check out various claims and more I almost always found charlatans. Almost always. There had been that fellow with the tall tale about a vampire in New Orleans. He was certainly convincing, and the police reports of the murders had all the earmarks of the strange. But, as usual, it fizzled to nothing. I found her mouth alluring as I watched her speak, but caught myself. Her mention of Johnny was just another item to add to the equation. 
"This town is full of 'Giuseppes' and Lorenzo is just known as....Mr. Lorenzo." 
Even official documents at the Explorers Club showed only the one name. 
"I'm not going to judge your abilities or where they came from, Catarina. My only concern is to settle the affair of the jewels." 
And that should have been my only concern! It seemed likely Johnny had 'sold' her out somehow and Catarina just might be caught in a mess beyond her 'fae given' abilities. 

She listened to his words, those lips pursing some before she lifted the whiskey glass, a small sip taken again that left a faint press of red lipstick on the clear surface.  Her gaze met his again and much as she might well have wanted to remain caught in the steel grey, she gave a small shake of  dark head, her chin dropping some.
"So then you see me safe to this friend of yours, he sees about some jewel and....then what?"
It was partially rhetorical, partially a voiced fear.  She'd been in tough spots before, but given the night thus far and those two goons, all of the usual places she would turn for help seemed suddenly suspect.


== Chapter 5 ==
'''Overnight Guest'''

Once our eyes became unlocked, I rose up to go refill my cognac. I didn't usually have a second cognac before bed, but I didn't usually have female guests that were going to sleep in the guest room either. 
"If all goes as I suspect it will, Catarina, we will convince Mr. Applewhite to let you keep your keepsake and to drop the matter entirely. Or, you might accept whatever generous offer he makes. In any case, it is my hope the matter is neatly wrapped up before lunch tomorrow and I can be back in Manhattan in time to take Gladys Rutherford to the opera tomorrow night." 
Of course that didn't say much about what to her and I was not exactly satisfied not having that answer myself. I swirled the freshly poured cognac in my glass and looked to the far wall as though the answer was there. 
"It might not be safe to send you back to your apartment," 
I sippedsome cognac. 
"I am sure Applewhite will let you stay at the chateu while you make other arrangements." 
I returned to her and tossed back the entirety of the cognac.
"Might be time to take a powder from the Big Apple, Catarina." 

"Opera?"
Her nose wrinkled and she laughed softly.
"Isn't that dreadfully, well, dull?  Not that I've ever gone, but it always seemed to me strange to sing so....stuffily."
She watched him move, something predatory but smooth about it and she sliced her gaze away, annoyed with herself.
"Well, I think maybe you and I must travel in diferent circles if its as easy as all that for you Dash."
Oh she smiled, most would even have bought it, but she was scared.  She was all too well aware that she was clanless in a subculture that was beholden to clan above all, living illegally in a country glutted with refugees and immigrants already and with a skill set that hardly set her up for long term success.  The string of thought brought her hand up, throwing back the rest of the whiskey as a shot, wincing some before she coughed.
"Hit me again?"

"Stuffily?" 
Well she wasn't wrong, but I could find entertainment in many venues. 
"Opera is simply another expression of art, I suppose." 
I set down my empty glass and took up hers when she asked for more. I didn't want to get her drunk, but one more wouldn't hurt. 
"We will see to the arrangements, with your permission, of course." 
I smiled while I poured her whiskey and when I brought it to her, I held it out of reach for a moment. 
"Don't worry about expenses, Catarina. That will be taken care of." 
I stopped to study her again. Ostensibly out of the normal curiosity for wanting to learn about things I didn't know. Romnichal, she claimed. "Forgive me for staring, but I never would have taken you for a gypsy. You're not just taking advantage of the Gypsy Rose Lee's popularity?" I had actually seen the burlesque queen perform twice and she certainly put on a show? And I do mean show! 
"How long have you been doing burlesque?"

She felt her cheeks go hot and she stood up from the setee where she was sitting, arms wrapping around herself, one at her waist and one over her breasts, a painful poke reminding her of what she had concealed.
"I am no lewd low class dancer as all that are."
She paced past him, her Celtic brogue thickening, the usually more careful grasp on proper speech taking a back seat to being embarassed and angry.
"Nunya clasp to what is nor isn't....slap a harlot in tassles and feathers and enough pancake for half the coast and suddenly everyone's all high n courtly amn't they now?"
Pace pace pace, a pass by and she snatched up the whiskey and paced some more before turning on him, forgetting that she still wore heavy stage make up and done fancy hair herself.
"I dance the dances my people have danced since before yorn were to set their nappied arses on a mare's flank thank you muchly." 
Her blue eyes were hot,cheeks too obviously red despite the pancake she wore to darken her own complexion.

Her sudden indignance fairly amused me, as did change in her speech pattern. I almost helped myself to more cognac. 
"Forgive me, Catarina, I did not mean to upset you." 
Though it was an interesting development. Interesting and oddly attractive. Perhaps she was simply naive about what burlesque was, or why men came to watch her dance. 
"Do you believe the men come to watch the dance of your people for the sake of cultural enlightenment? Or do they come to watch Exoctica move about in an alluring fashion that sets their passions aflame?" 
I still resisted having any more to drink and just stood in one spot while I watched her pace. Even in her pacing she moved in a way that held my gaze. 
"Different performances appeal to different people for different reasons, Catarina. The performer, however, might not always intend to be appealing in certain ways, or to certain people." 
I offered up a dashing smile then as she passed by me for the umpteenth time. 
"Did you want to wash the, uh, pancake from your face?" 
And I twirled a finger in her direction. 

She did indeed move in a way that was simply lyrical, always had from the moment she transitioned from crawling to walking to running.  She was, for better or worse, generally unaware of doing so and surely there was no salacious sway or strut right then.
"I had a good thing going."
If by good one included criminals, dank clubs, smoky haze and strangers trying to make the leap from club audience to wanting her to dance a whole nother dance with them.  His sudden smile caught her offguard and she started, disarmed suddenly.  A hand touched her cheek and she chuckled.
"I am in desperate need of a quick shower off if you've maybe got something I could wear?" 
Her dres smelled of smoke and the idea of putting back on the worn clothing was a bit gross.  She might be low rent, but she was, like all Romnichal, meticulous about cleanliness.

Normally, I slept in the nude, but I did keep pajamas on hand for various occasions. 
"I suppose I could lend you something of mine, though it will be big. Excuse me," 
And I left her there to go to my bedroom and root through the drawers. My hands clutched two different sets. Silk or cotton? The shirt alone would be like a night dress for her, but I chose the cotton and included the bottoms for the sake of her modesty. I believed she was rather naive about the affect her dancing had on men and for that reason I chose not to enter into any games with her. She was, I gathered, a 'good' girl and it would be wrong of me to tempt her. Or to make her more tempting than she already was. If I had flannel pajamas, I would have given her those. 
"Here you go," 
I offered with a smile as I handed her the plain white pajamas. 
"The bathroom is there," 
Pointing to the door between the bedrooms, 
"And you can change in there," 
Pointing to the second bedroom. 
"I will give you some privacy," 
And I gave her a short bow and retreated to my own room. 

She was no hothouse flower beneath glass, but nor was she a low rent stripper.  She had taken a few to her bed, but they had been choices, not opportunities or rungs on some ladder.  The plain white pajamas got a strange look as she took them.
"You haven't been a...patient...anywhere recently have you?  Some cozy padded place?"
And that quicksilver smile flashed, teasing him about the virgin whites he was handing her.
"I won't waste water." 
A strange comment maybe, but it made her chuckle as she headed for the bathroom, entering and widening eyes a bit, way nicer than the shared bathroom at the boarding house.  She stripped off her clothing and eyed the room, tucking the wad of cash beneath the rug before stepping into the shower and turning on the water, a startled look when the water was warm to start with.  She did not linger overlong in the shower, washing her face and body thoroughly, one cloth used below the waist, her hands above, culturally the divide was not moral but hygenic.  In less than ten minutes she was clean and wrapping her hair in a towel as she slipped into the far too large pajamas, forgoing the pants after the fourth time they slid off her body and pooled at her ankles.  Besides, the shirt almost reached her knees.  She folded her other clothes and  tucked the money and jewel into the pile deeply before emerging.

I changed into the satin pajamas and was immediately reminded I was no fan of satin against my skin, but it was teh choice left me. I covered myself further with a scarlet house robe and grabbed the cigarette case on the top of my dresser. It was my plan to have a smoke on the balcony and then turn in, but when I heard her in the sitting room, I decided to have my soke out there. 
"Did you find everything to your satisfaction? As I said, I will have feminine toiletries sent up in the morning, along with breakfast. Do you like poached eggs? Or perhaps you would prefer...panckaes?" 
I smiled and lit my cigarette then, enjoying a long pull to end the day. I did my best to not look too closely at her wearing only my nightshirt. She had extremely pretty ankles, which I recall noticing when I saw her dance before. 
"There is a house robe in the closet there," 
I should have told her that before. 

It was almost a new woman who emerged, the make up gone, her skin was very fair, not a freckle in sight, though she did have a few here and there unseen just then.  Barefoot, raven hair soft and loose in damp strands spilling to her midback, she nodded.
"Everything was fine, I do not need to smell like roses."
She smiled, looking far less harsh, younger, easier somehow in her natural state as it were.  She looked to his cigarette.
"Have one I can beg?"
An expression, common, but accompanied by a smile.  She looked down at herself and then back to him.
"Am I making you uncomfortable Dash?"
Just enough of a hint of seduction in the smile to make one wonder.

Never was I uncomfortable with a pretty girl in any state of dress. In that moment, I was trying to be less comfortable before I started to see her as a potential conquest. 
"Certainly," 
And I pulled the cigarette case from the pocket of my robe and snapped it open in front of her. From my other pocket, I pulled the lighter and flipped that open in readiness. 
"Certainly, you may have a cigarette, that is. You do not make me uncomfortable, Catarina. Not at all." 
I spoke with distinct assurance as I lit her cigarette. 
"Obviously, I do not make you uncomfortable either. We are, afterall, modern people in a modern world with modern ideas, wouldn't you agree?" 

She took the cigarette, the white tip pressed against full lower lip bare of any but the berry pink nature gifted her with, drawing in a drag and releasing a perfect trio of smoke rings before stepping back to settle on the setee.
"Thank you."
And she took another drag, eyes closing a moment.
"I come from a place and people most would not term very modern Dash.  But they are long ago and far away."
A single shoulder rose and fell, her legs tucked up onto the setee, the pajama top came down over her knees, legs bare from knee to bare feet.
"Besides, girls like me, we are made for the Thin Spaces, the modern world looks past those."
She gave him a look, meeting his eyes.

I crushed my cigarette in the ashtray and was looking at her chest, imagining one more button being undone. 
"You said it," 
I smiled, 
"They are long ago and far away." 
I did manage to drag my eyes from her chest up to her eyes. Beautiful blue eyes. They were alive with something I was unused to among most of teh women I dallied with. Perhaps I was being unfair to the other women, just then. Perhaps I never really looked for it before and only just 
saw it now in Catarina's eyes. 
"Thin spaces?" 
The odd mention shook me out of my imaginings and I once again looked at Cat as part and parcel of his current case. 
"And tell me, please, my dear, what do you mean by a 'girl like you'?" 
I adjusted the belt around my robe against it flying open for a free show of what I was *not* wearing underneath. 

Oh he could have let it slip, she might have been draped in virgin whites but she was not exactly qualified to be doing so.
"Hm, well, not all of my people are born with the gift I have Dash.  Oh to a degree it is said we are all closer to the natural world than others.  In my case, though, I do not just know where the veil is, I can step through it."
She took a drag on her cigarette slowly in that luxurious way women had with a cigarette.
"Thin spaces, um well, they are everywhere.  The twixt and tween, the outside of time and space."
Blue eyes shifted and she stood up, moving to the doorframe between the sitting room and his room, hands pressing to the frame and sliding up.
"Like this...places where the veil is thinner is all."
And she smiled, it made perfect sense to her.

Hocus pocus! Mumbo jumbo! Or that's all it was to me. Mostly. It was obvious she believed it and I was sure she had her reasons, but even when I encountered mysteries I could not explain, I still believed a scientific explanation was lurking somewhere. 
"You can step through the veil you say?" 
I smiled. 
"I would like to learn what is on the other side of that veil," 
Or what she believed was on the other side. I stepped to the doorframe and took her by the wrist, removing her hand from the doorframe. I notice I liked how my finergs closed completely around her slim wrist. 
"But it is late, Catarina, and your room is there," 
And I turned her in that direction and, regretably released her wrist. 
"Breakfast is at seven and I hope to be on the road by eight." 
I was in the doorframe leading to my room then and she was without. 
"Goodnight, Catarina. Do sleep well." 

 

== Chapter 6 ==

'''A Visitor for Breakfast'''

Morning came quickly  and it seemed I couldn't stop yawning even as the hot shower hit my face. Even as I passed teh razor over my face, my jaw stretched repeatedly from sleepy yawns. But I really didn't feel that tired despite all that yawning. I dressed in a comfortable suit and entered the sitting room as the ladies from the cafe down the street were setting up breakfast. I went to Cat's door and knocked softly. "Breakfast is here, Miss Flynn,"
Maintaining a sense of formality for the sake of the cafe ladies. They had delivered breakfast to me and my 'guests' before, but I didn't feel they should get the same impression of Catarina. 

She was awake and dressed, even if self conscious about the fact that she was wearing her dress from last night.  She tucked the cash and jewel back into her bra, trying to adjust the angle not to poke herself.  No make up on but her raven hair was silken smooth and fell to mid back, heels adding an inch to her height as she emerged, a fresh faced smile his way as blue eyes skimmed over his suited form.
"Good morning Mr. Karp, I hope you slept well."
A glance went to the cafe ladies, no idea if she sould say hello, unused to being served anything really.
"Smells good!"

With all due courtesy, I pulled a chair out for her and helped her to her seat. 
"I hope you like pancakes and poached eggs,"
As I pushed her chair in. 
"I don't mean to rush you, but I did want to get on the road soon." 
I got myself situated and set the cradled poached egg before me, tapping it with myu spoon to crack the shell. I paused when I realized Mildred, from the cafe, was staring expectantly at me. 
"That will be all, Mildred," 
I smiled. 
"Tell Mister Peterson he prepared a swell breakfast." 
I resumed my egg cracking. 

She settled into the chair, reaching for the carafe of coffee, a habit she had picked up since being in New York, though tea was still a go to when stressed or upset.
"Oh I am a light eater in the mornings, I will be quick." 
She tried to act natural but seeing as she'd been the one on Mildred's side of the scene for so long, she had to flash the woman a smile too. "I do not think I have had pancakes in years."
She helped herself to two, ignoring the butter but damned near drowning them in syrup.  She cut a bite, syrup drenching fork as she brought it to her mouth.

Mildred seemed nervous, but I could not fathom whatb would make her nervous just then. She did not move right away and seemed like she wanted to say something, but a knock on the door startled her to silence. It startled me to stillness as well since normally the doorman would ring to announce a visitor I was not otherwise expecting. 
"Expecting anyone?" 
I asked Cat, albiet rhetorically and dropped my napkin on my plate when I rose. 
"Mr. Karp, please be careful," 
Mildred warned me, but I did not understand. When I opened the door, a tall, lanky gentleman bent a bit at the waist. 
"Good morning, Mr. Karp. Please forgive my intrusion upon you morning meal, my name is Albert Garifini." 
That could be the name of any two bit Italian thug, but this man spoke with great refinement and eloquence. 
"I have been asked to call on you by Mr. Lorenzo, whom I believe you are acquainted with?" 
It was a natural inclination of mine to worry my tongue against my gum. I waved the man to seat at the table. 

She had a mouthful of pankcake but made an amused little scoffing noise at his question to her.  She'd just swallowed when she heard Mildred and a cold sinking sensation hit her stomach.  Long ago and far away her people had lived in deep fear from the sudden knock on the door or, more accurately, the sudden burst open of broken door followed by boots.  She had half risen, the plain truth being that running was her go to response to fear, but Dash opened the door and she swallowed, transforming the motion into an apparent reach for the sugar.  Vivid blue eyes touched on the man or what she could see of him before Dash waved him toward the table and then her gaze shifted to Dash.  Was he setting her up? Perhaps he had made a phone call last night? No, instinctively she just could not believe that of him, his energy was not cold that way, the way she had of just....sensing these things.  She was very rarely wrong. Enough of a performer to put on a believable smile.

Garifini declined the invitation with a gentleman's applomb. 
"You are quite kind, Mr. Karp, but I'm afraid I cannot. I am only here to extend an invitation from Mr. Lorenzo to meet with you at the lovely Miss Flynn at his penthouse within the hour. I have a car waiting downstairs and Mr. Lorenzo wanted me to assure you both it would be quite lucrative." 
I looked to Cat, taking note of the worried look on her face. I was worried too, but did a much better job of hiding it. 
"Well, we do have a conflicting appointment, perhaps we could delay until this afternoon?" 
Garifini seemed to bristle at the suggestion, but otherwise never lost poise. 
"I will be waiting with the car downstairs. It is unwise to disappoint Mr. Lorenzo, Mr. Karp." 
With a sharp bow, Garifini left and I closed the door. With a smile, I turned to Mildred. 
"Be a dear and hurry to the cafe for more pancakes, Mildred. Be sure to be quite vocal about it, you hear?" 
Mildred understood, and nodded that she would, but she certainly seemed nervous. When she and the other cafe lady left, my own demeanor shifted from calm to urgent. 
"We need to leave, now," and I reached for Cat's hand. 
"I'll get you more pancakes at Applewhite's." 

Her heart was in her throat as she listened to the exchange between the two men, studying details of the lanky man's face but careful not to meet his gaze.  He knew her name, which meant that any inkling of coincidence was out the window, but how they knew his name, and where she was, that had her completely puzzled.  She watched as the women left, her hands white knuckled beneath the table on her lap.  She had lost her appetite entirely and while she reached to take the hand he offered she also looked stricken.
"How? he is down there, and I cannot let you get hurt over me."
Her blue eyes were scared but that small chin rose.
"It would be safer for you to stay here, let me go down...."
She was aware that even as she spoke of that, her smaller hand squeezed his more tightly, her body speaking truth while her mouth spoke  pragmatism.

"Mr. Applewhite does not like people to miss appointments either, Catarina," 
I smiled at the tightness of her fingers in my hand, 
"And he did make an appointment first." 
When I dressed this morning, I did add one particular accessory...my Colt .45. It was holstered under my jacket over my left side. 
"Come with me," 
And I led her through my bedroom to a door that exited to the hallway nearest the stairway. 
"The front door isn't the only way out," 
And we began our descent down the stairwell in a hurry. 
"You are indeed quite the sought after lady, Catarina," 
Five levels to the street. 
"Do you think Mr. Lorenzo wants to see the dance of your people?" 
Four levels to the street. 
"Mr.Lorenzo, it is said, sells American women to slavers in the Orient." 
Three levels to the street. 
"But I don't think thats what he wants from you," 
Two levels to the street. 
"How often have you talked about your....'abilities?" 

There was something tense inside of her that eased when he retained that grip and made it clear he was not going to toss her to the proverbial wolves.  She did not hesitate to run with him, a hand in his and a hand at her chest to be sure her precious cargo was not shaken loose.  Her brassiere was tight as all were but still, it would not do to lose her only possesions outside her body and abilities.  Sure footed and nimble she was a wee bit breathless when they hit the street, fear tightening her throat at the mention of being sold in the Orient.  She had heard dark rumors but never considered such a danger to herself.
"They have come up, its inevitable, I do readings and seances for people, some of whom he referred in my direction.  I do not brag about them though."
Her gaze swept what she could see of the street, pressing close to him.

At street level, I led her down a service corridor to a stairway that led to the basement. 
"Mr. Lorenzo enjoys seances. And Zodiac readings. And collecting paraphenalia of teh strange and mystical." 
I kept moving through the laundry area and then past the boilers that provided the steam heat for the building. The clanked and hissed and it was damn hot in there, but it was a contingency route I had discovered within a week of taking up residence. 
"Perhaps he wants you in his collection." 
We passed through a  steel door that exited into a subway station. But rather than take the train, we went up to the street and hailed a cab. "I almost forgot....Mr. Lorenzo is quite the Egyptologist as well." 
Instructions were given to the cab driver and we were on our way to Central Park. 

She kept a tight grip on his hand as they maneuvered their way out of the building, a little bit shocked to find themselves in a subway station, her heels clicking on the stairs up to the street.
"I am not a collectible!"
An indignant protest coming from the gypsy girl.  Ushered into the cab ahead of him, she was not conscious of how close she sat right then, sliding down in the seat as the cab pulled away, not wanting to risk being seen.
"Egypt? They have some fascinating customs but I am not versed in them."
Troubled still by the notion of anyone being after her.  Some small voice in her head reminded her that she should be scared that Dash himself might be one of them, but again, her senses did not agree.

When we reached Central Park, I was worried that Ribbons might not have sniffed out my plan...assuming Mildred had played her part. I was big on contingencies and I informed Ribbons long ago that if I gave any indication I was not coming down to meet the car, then he was to look for me in Central Park. There were a number of such plans I had in place, but this was actually the first time I ever needed to implement one. It was eight minutes before I spotted Ford sedan driven by Ribbons and we were on our way to Long Island and Applewhite's chateu. In the back of the Ford, I found mjyself still holding Cat's hand, but I gave it a pat and finally released it. 
"Sorry, Sir. Traffic," 
Ribbons explained, but I waved it off. No plan was perfect. 
"You can relax now, Cat. I think we've given them the slip." 

The park itself had its usual walkers and such, and she was nervous even as they enbtered the new car, her gaze lifting to the rearview mirror to glance at the driver.  She noticed he called Dash sir and that made her look back at Dash.  Right then he chose to let go of her hand and she felt a warm blush as she realized she had not let go this whole time.
"Sorry."
Whispered to him, shifting a bit away and smoothing her skirt, a hand trying to smooth raven hair that on a good day liked to do as it pleased.  She looked out the window, a skeptical look at Dash but she nodded.
"I am not sure relaxing is on the menu but thank you, it does seem that we will only keep one appointment this morning."
She gave him a smile though she was still troubled by the situation, hard not to be.  She resolved, though, to simply make the best of what came, no easy feat for her.
"Is it a far way to our destination?"
She had really never been out of the city since crossing the east river from North Brother years back now.

"Perhaps an hour..." 
I started to answer, but that's when Ribbons chimed in. 
"I estimate fifty-thre minutes, Madame," 
Then he flashed a smile to me. He might have been right. He often measured city distances and traffic patterns just to be precise about such matters. 
"The chateu is quite secure and I am sure you will be safe there while I investigate what Mr. Lorenzo wants." 
But no sooner did I attempt such reassurance, then the car lurched suddenly to one side amidst the sound of crunching metal. The impact left Cat in my lap and the Ford ground sickenly to a halt. The next thing I know, the door is                                                             being yanked open and a big ugly face is peering inside. It was the goon from the night before who I sent to dreamland with one punch. I realized my shoulder hurt and before I could react, he was pulling Cat from my lap and out of the car. I didn't even have time to think about Ribbons when the other goon was reaching for me. I managed to kick him away and helped myself out of the car with every intention of unholstering my Colt and persuading the goon squad to back off. But apparently there was a third someone whom I failed to see and darkness came over me. 

She did not even have time to scream when the car was struck, finding herself hurled across the car and onto Dash's lap.  Stunned, she was just processing trying to get up when the door was yanked open and oh this time she did have time to scream as the hands of the man who had grabbed her last night did so again.  She was not exactly a damsel in distress sort, but neither was she a fighter or even very big.  She struggled, the man's hand slapping over her mouth to quiet her screaming, her heels kicking at his shins when his free arm grabbed her waist, pinning her arms.  Call it instinct, or maybe a very bad decision, but she bit his hand as hard as she could, gratified to hear him yowl as she tasted blood.  Unfortunately, he did not drop her, instead she felt his hand whisk away, a cloth replacing it.  The sickly sweet dampness on it was nauseating but she could not figure out how to work her limbs as her vision swam in streamers of color.  The last thing she saw as she went limp in his arms was a third man clubbing Dash over the head.  Then blackness claimed her.

== Chapter 7 ==

'''Lorenzo Has Dash and Cat'''

How long I was out, I couldn't say. The light that glared in my face was garrish and made my head pound even harder. I squinted and discovered I was securely bound to a chair, but I could see nothing for that glaring light. My ankles were tied to the legs of the chair and my wrists behind the back. I struggled only a moment before deciding to save my strength. I was alive, so that meant I wasn't wanted fpr something, though I had no idea what. I only had to wait a moment before I heard someone else nearby. A movement of furniture, I thought. I shuffle of feet, and then a voice. 
"I regret the violence, Mr. Karp, but I'm afraid you've proven rather uncooperative." 
I recognized the voice immediately as Mr. Garifini and wondered how he managed to catch up with us. It seemede certain they had decided to follow Ribbons against any eventuality. 
"Mr. Lorenzo would prefer to avoid any further unpleasantries and your cooperation, as I tried to convey before, might even prove rewarding to both you and Miss Flynn." 
The light was turned away from me and cast upon Catarina who is in a nearby chair and likewise bound, though she was additionally gagged. It was still hard to see Garifini, who directed the light, but both goons flanked Catarina, who appeared otherwise unharmed and quite awake. 

She'd woken to a headache but otherwise physically fine.  Panic served no purpose, but that was not to say she was calm either, currently trying to dislodge the cloth gag that was pressed far back behind her teeth and tied behind her head, her hair a tumble of curls and a bit rumpled.  She wished her ankles wree not tied, as her dress was dangerously close to rising above her left knee and that was making her very uncomfortable given the two large men flanking her.  Seeing Dash wake up she made small noises behind the gag, blue eyes wide  as she listened to the lanky man  from the doorway.  Gods had that only been this same day? She blinked, turning her face from the light but one of the men seized her hair and brought her head back to center.  She did not like him touching her and she could feel that tight small fist of energy that was always present in her start to loosen, nostrils flaring.  Angry noises came from the gagged mouth.

I was none too happy with Catarina's predicament but being tied as well, tough words seemed useless. 
"Now this isn't necessary at all, Mr. Garifini. I was simply taking Miss Flynn to our first appointment," 
Trying to imply that we had every intention of keeping our appointment with Mr. Lorenzo. 
"Now if you'll just untie us, we can discuss your proposal in a more civil manner." 
There was some difficulty on my part in keeping my eyes away from Catarina then. The bit of thigh that was exposed caught my eye and was alluring, despite the circumstances. Garifini nodded to one of the goons, who left the side of Cat and came to untie me. I was surprised at this and would likely have boxed the fellows ears had it not been for Garfini's next words. 
"We will keep Miss Flynn restrained for now and you will in turn remain peaceful, is taht understood Mr. Karp? Mr. Lorenzo will hold *you* personally responsible should anything happen to her." 
I rubbed my wrists as soon a I got to my feet and stepped away from the chair I had been in. 
"So what makes you think her safety will guarantee my cooperation? I only met the dame last night." 
I tried to sound as dispassionate as possible without even glancing to Cat. Mr. Garifini finally emerged from the shadows. 
"Your reputation quite precedes you, Mr. Karp. Quite the gallant gentleman anjd womanizer all in one."

Her pulse was quick and she could feel her cheeks warming with a creeping blush, squirming some in the chair, trying the rope that bound her wrists.  Her eyes widened a bit as she watched them untie Dash, a shake of her head in negative in terms of the statement that they were keeping her bound.  The words the lanky man spoke made her go very still, it was becoming clear to her that Dash had likely been right, it seemed her skills or person were of some value, albeit nefarious value, to Lorenzo.  She recoiled slightly when Dash so casually implied he did not care what happened to her and a sinking sensation filled her, dipping her chin as she felt her eyes prickle, trying to shake the feeling.  Her hands flexed in their bonds and her awareness opened a bit, the temperature of the area directly around her dipping noticably.  The light that was shining on her flickered a moment.

"I'll take over from here now, Albert," 
And a door opened, admitting a short, but slim man with a pencil thin mustache, wearing a black suit and spats on his shoes. 
"Boys, go get coffee," 
He waved off the goons. 
"You too Albert, everything is fine. Thank you for getting this meeting together." 
When the other three men left, Lorenzo closed the door and moved along the wall a few steps. Lorenzo was too comfortable and it indicated he was quite aware he was safe in my presence. Sure, he had things all ordered to his liking and unless I wanted to risk getting Cat hurt, I wasn't going to make any disquiting moves. 
"I think the last time we met, I trounced you in billiards, Lorenzo. Did you want a rematch?" 
He seemed to ignore me and walked behind Cat's chair and removed her gag. 
"Please accept my apologies, Miss Flynn. Albert has a flare for the damsel in distress scenario." 
He smiled, then nturned to me. 
"Perhaps later, Daniel." 
We had first met before I started using the 'Dash' moniker and it somehow made my skin crawl to hear him call me Daniel now. 
"For the moment, I only ask that help me convince Miss Flynn to join us in a ....quest of sorts." 
What was he talking about, and why did he think I would help him? 
"Join you?"
And I relaized I might have sounded too indignant so I toned it down. 
"Well, I suppose we could hear what you had to say," 
As though I was Catarina's agent or something.

She was somewhat split focus right then, aware of the changing energy though when she heard Lorenzo's voice, the temperature dipping a few more degrees and the chair Dash was no longer in gave a soft creak.  Blue eyes lifted, her tongue tracing her dry lips, working the feel and taste of the gag from her lips as best she could, shaking her head some.  Her eyes blazed when she looked at Lorenzo, cutting a glance to include Dash as well. 
"If you truly wish me to cooperate in any way, untie me."  
"Her accent was thicker as she was stressed, the lyrical Irish brogue somehow feminine and sweet despite the heat behind the words she spoke. "And what sort of quest is it that you think I would undertake to help you anyway?"  
She was trying to reign in her fear, knowing it only fanned the flames of the energy surrounding her like a close protective swarm.

I only knew Catarina for less than twenty-four hours, but I was already gaining a sense about her. The moment she spoke, I hurried to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. 
"Now, now, Kitten," 
I knew it sounded condescending, but it was for Lorenzo's benefit. 
"Leave the man to make his offer. He's a serious customer, you know." 
I gave her shoulder a squeeze which I hoped she would take as somehow reassuring and looked to Lorenzo, who gave me a suspicous nod and smile. Somehow, I didn't think he was buying my cooperation, but he was going along just the same. 
"I am a collector of the unusual, Miss Flynn. One might say even the mystical. There is one item I have been seeking for a number of years now. It is known as the Missile of Eros; a sculpture dating back to the fourth century B.C. I believe I may have uncovered a clue to its whereabouts." 
He stopped there and was probably waiting for me to argue against its authenticity. Even Applewhite never invested any money in that fruitless search. But I said nothing just yet. I left it to Cat to respond so I could better play my own game. 

Her eyes widened a bit when he called her Kitten and she really wished her legs were free so she could stomp on his foot right then.  His hand on her shoulder squeezed and she drew a breath, odd to be so distracted by so small a thing at a time like this, but it reeled in her temper some.  Blue eyes turned to Lorenzo and she was quiet a moment. 
"I have never even heard of a missle of whoever, how in the name of Katie Clancy am I supposed to help you to find it?  Have you tried the daily papers?  Place an advert?" 
Her frustration sometimes shorted out her brain to mouth filter but at least she was not swearing at him.

It was attractive in its way, I suppose, how she tried to be defiant while tied to a chair. Just the same, I was more interested in getting to the bottom of what Lorenzo wanted. 
"It would be a wonderful find for the archeological community," 
Though I was quite awar he no intentions of sharing anything he found. He was quite the opposite of Applewhite in that regard. 
"But just how do you expect the gypsy girl here to find it?" 
Sure, I was digging myself deep with Catarina, but I was still hoping I could convince Lorenzo my own interests were purely mercenary. 
"She's just a burlesque dancer." I was sure that was another nail in my coffin when I called her that.

She felt her cheeks go warm as Dash categorized her as a burlesque dancer and she flipped her hair as her head turned, away from them both.  Blue eyes stared at the floor a few feet away as she twisted her wrists, the left loop starting to loosen a wee bit, or maybe she was vainly hopeful.  She drew a breath, her shrug aborted as her hands were tied behind her back, acutely uncomfortable with how that simple fact caused her dress to be pulled tight across her bosom, and not only because of how it accentuated her figure.  She was only certain that no one had gotten fresh while she was out because she was being poked painfully by the brooch. 
"He is right, what use would I be?  I am just a dancer.  This is all some misunderstanding, honestly. 
And she flashed a charming smile, the one that did not reach blue eyes but often upped her tips.

She was playing along and I was rather grateful of that fact. 
"There, ya see? Now why don't you let the little gypsy girl go back to her dancing. This Missile of Eros sounds interesting enough for me. You and I should sit down and discuss. Its not like I have an exclusive contract with Applewhite, you know." 
If I could at least get Cat out of there, I would feel a whole let better. I would be more free to act rashly if rashness became the desired course of action. 
"I'm afraid you don't understand, Mr. Karp. Your talents - and I do commend you on them - are not required. At least not yet," 
And that last bit had me more interested now. He continued, "our Miss Flynn here may be the only person in the greater metropolitan area capable of divining the information I seek." 
I looked from Lorenzo to Cat and realized I was fast running out of options. 

She felt her pulse jump, the temperature taking a sharp spike downwards as her fear rose.  She blew out a breath and regretted it, a faint white hang of breath in the air.  She had to think fast, chin rising as her attention was split between harnessing back the energy and talking her way out of this.
"What does the thing you're looking for look like?  Maybe I seen it somewhere, like a museum or gallery." 
Praying he might believe she frequented either type of establishment. 
"I could ask folks, but gee, I can't think how else I might be of help, especially like this."
Glancing down at herself.
"Maybe untie me and I can think better."
It was worth a shot, a jump of adrenaline as the chair Dash had been secured in simply fell over.  That was not, to her awareness, her.  She could not as truthfully say that no one else present, visible or not, was not responsible.

My head snapped to the chair when it was upset, and I saw Lornezo do the same. The goons were gone, as well as Garifini, so that was just strange odd. To me at least, but Lorenzo seemed much less surprised and smiled at Cat. 
"Yes, I am even more certain you can be of some help, Miss Flynn. You see, the information I need can only be reached by someone with a gift such as you possess." 
I scratched my head, still looking at the ch I slowly turned my grey eyes on Cat. I tried to convey to her the suggestion that she needed to play dumber than dirt now. 
"Oh come now, Lorenzo," 
And I laid my finger to the side of my nose, 
"I have a nose for these things. If the missile is anywhere to be found, you know I can find it and I can retrieve it! Now lets stop wasting time on the gypsy and talk turkey. What information you have got on it so far? Where do I start?"  
I was trying to draw Lorenzo into a more reasonable approach to his quest, even though I was aware of Lorenzo's quirks for the mystical. My eyes galnced to that chair again and wondered if it had been some trick of Lorenzo's just to throw us off. Lorenzo kept his eyes on cat as though he was expecting her to disappear in a mist. 
"If you agree to perform this one service, miss Flynn, I will pay you five thousand dollars," 
And then he looked to me. 
"Once Miss Flynn reveals the loaction of the Missile of Eros, I will indeed hire you to retrieve it." Though he didn't set a price with me. 

She closed her eyes, a silent prayer sent to the gods for calm and control.  She looked up to see Dash's look and she did understand that whatever else, she was in trouble.  The kind of trouble she could not get out of on her own by a long shot, not unless someone or something conveniently rendered everyone but her and Dash unconscious.  Second plan.  Cue the tears.  She was fully capable of acting, and crying on cue was not too hard when bound helplessly in the presence of one very scary man and another one she had known less than a full day.  Those soft full lips quivered prettily as tears slid over pink cheeks and hung from raven lashes. 
"You're making no sense and you're scaring me! I'm just a dancer, tell him Mr. Karp.  I don't know anything and I cannot take your money on a lie."
Oh it was a good performance, right down to the squirm that seemed emotional but in reality had her left wrist almost free, a fact she hoped Dash, and not Lorenzo, noted.
"Please, just let me go, I won't tell anyone about this, I promise!"
She had a deathgrip on the knot of energy internally though that did not stop the current of cold.

Her performance was even convincing me, but it was obvious Lorenzo was not so moved. 
"Perhaps more than monetary persuasion is in order here," 
Lorenzo advised Cat, then pounded three times on the door. Immediately, Lorenzo's goons re-entered, the uglier one levelling a .38 at my chest. My immediate response was to put my hands up, but my mouth was less resigned. 
"Hey, whats the big idea? I said I would work with you on this!" 
The goon, for whom I still had no name, waved the gun in a way to back me into the far corner. 
"You want I should plug him here, Mr. Lorenzo, or you want me and da boys should take him for a ride?" 
Lorenzo shook his head and walked to the chair behjind Cat. 
"No, Lawrence, I am hopeful Mr. Karp will become our associate once Miss Flynn is convinced to be our associate as well. Are you a bit more receptive now, Miss Flynn?" 
He untied her hands rather quickly, leading me to believe he had tied them himself in the first place. 
"I really don't like the sound of guns, Miss Flynn, so please let us have no cause for them to go off in this small room." 
The other goon - still unnamed - moved to stand threatening next to Cat. My fists clenched in anger, but I remained as cool as a cucumber. 
"I still think I can do a better job than this dame, Lorenzo." 
I stared at the barrel of the gun. It wasn't the first time I stared down a gun. 

The sight of the gun was not one she was familiar with, not in many long years and as the men returned and she saw it her tears faded on cue, eyes wide and fixed on the barrel before swinging to Dash.  Alarm registered on her face when Lawrence spoke of plugging Dash.  As Lorenzo moved behind her she went very still, startled by the feel of him loosing the bonds, drawing her hands in front of her body and rubbing at her wrists.  She used the motion to think frantically for a moment, well aware of the sheer size of the man looming over her.  She opted for bending at the waist to reach down and tug free the rope on her ankles, not asking, just doing it.  Calculating that they were not going to shoot either of them over so small a thing.  She drew her knees together, smoothing her skirt down and shaking out her hair while sliding a look to Dash.
"You're not going to shoot either one of us.  You seem to think you need me, and while I think you are nuts, I can guarantee you I wouldn't spit on you if you were on fire if you do anything to Mr. Karp."
Ohhh risky, devil she knew over devil she didn't? Hard to say considering she only had that nascent sense of his energy to go on, but it was far better than Lorenzo.

"Make no mistake, Miss Flynn, my desire to obtain the Missile of Eros transcends mere mundane concerns such as your life or Mr. Karp's. Afterall, if you cannot discern the location of what I seek, there is certainly no need for Mr. Karp's services, now is there?" 
I sneered at Lawrence then and he just grinned back at me while Lorenzo then addressed the other goon. 
"Have you gotten over the loss your paramour, Robert?" 
Robert stared back and simply asked. 
"What is a parry-more?" 
I rolled my eyes and Lorenzo chuckled. 
"I believe you referred to her as your 'moll', Robert." 
Robert looked embarassed then and almost seemed apologetic as he looked to Lorenzo. 
"Well I didn't m..m..mean to make her stop breathin', Boss," 
He made a choking motion with his hands, 
"I just wanted to scare her some." 
Lorenzo was pulling out all the stops! I glanced to Cat before glaring at Lorenzo. 
"Now cut out all the theatrics, Lorenzo. No need to scare the poor thing like. Look, lets talk to Horace. between the three of us we can find this thing for sure!" 

And scare her it did, the implication in Lorenzo even bringing up the topic was not lost on the dark haired gypsy.  She stood swiftly, spinning and backing away from both Lorenzo and Robert.  She hadn't forgotten about the gun, but the swift movement was as much calculation as reaction and her volume as well as motion might, possibly, distract Lawrence too.
"I TOLD you you were scaring me!"
Her back bumped into the wall but her eyes never left Lorenzo and Robert. 
"This is CRAZY and you need to STOP!"
Oh hell.  She felt it a moment before she saw it, a subtle distance in her blue eyes as she 'saw'.  The chair she had vacated slammed into Lorenzo's lower legs hard and the room dipped by at least ten degrees.  Lorenzo was knocked to his side by the chair and she eyed the door the men had come in from, every instinct telling her to make a break for it.

Now things were getting quite crazy. What was it with the chairs in this place? Lorenzo went down from the furniture onslaught and Robert's jaw dropped. But Lawrence kept a steady aim at my chest and didn't seem to flinch at the strange occurrence. 
"I buy my chairs at Gimbels, they're guaranteed not attack anyone."
"Abert!" 
Lorenzo called out and the lanky man hurried in. I saw that look in Cat's eye, but I knew it was useless. There were likely dozens of goons and associates around this house....wher ever they were. Lorenzo struggled to his feet and stepped away from Cat. Albert stood just inside the door and silently waited for orders. 
"Prepare them both, then bring them to the Red Hall." 
He seemed only slightly less calm than he did a moment ago and rubbed his leg. Seemed like an attempt to diffuse tempers was in order here. "Okay, Kitten, they got us! Lets just do as they want and collect the money, deal?"



She had no time to explain, or even the ability right then, blue eyes a bit distant though she was blinking rapidly trying to refocus.  What she needed was contact, physical contact when the energy was that high and when he opted to call her Kitten again, she figured it would make sense to the others that she moved to him, wrapping her arms around his waist regardless of Lawrence and his gun.  She knew she was shaking but could not help that right then, drawing on Dash's energy and solid strength as she steadied herself and regained control over the wisping energy.
"What does he mean, prepare us?"
Softly, looking up at Dash for all the world as if they were alone right then, trying to discern if he really wanted her to help Lorenzo in this or just fake anything to get them out of this room.

I had no idea what it meant to be 'prepared' for the Red Hall so I just skipped over that question for now. I remained, on the surface at least, the epitomy of calm, cool and collected. In turn, I slipped my arms around Cat's figure in a most soothing gesture that left me surprised at just how soothing it was to me. "There, there, Kitten," and I found myself quite liking holding her and calling her 'Kitten'. "Everything is going to be just fine. We can work with Mr. Lorenzo. He won't hurt us." I pulled her a bit closer and got my mouth next to her ear and as best out of sight of Lorenzo or Garifini as I could and whispered. "Give him whatever you can. Don't hold back. Might buyt us some time."
　

"If you will please come with me, Miss Flynn," and Garifini reached for Cat and I slapped his arm away with a sneer. "Keep your paws off, fella. I said she's going to co-operate and she will." I released cat so she could indeed follow the man, and thats when two very lovely ladies wearing some sort of flimsy gowns, half off the shoulder and leaving little to the imagination, came through the door. They were twins! One smiled and took Cat by the hand while the other stood before me as though she were waiting for instructions. Lawrence waved that gun at me again. "Get goin', Karp." 
　

I looked at the girl standing demurely before me, then turned to Lorenzo. "You know, Larry here is making me nervous with that piece. He's gonna get himself hurt if he keeps waving it around like that. Now what do you expect me to do, Lorenzo? Take down you and Larry and Bobby and even Al, and then try to find my way outta this dungeon here? Come on! Gimme some credit." I prided myself on my ability to alter speech patterns based on the situation. I could get right down Bowery if I wanted, or slip into high grade Hamptons style on a dime.
　

"Lawrence," Lorenzo nodded to me then spoke to his goon, "I believe Mr. Karp will give us no trouble. Put the gun away." Lawrence grunted a complaint and did as he was told, but still gave me a small shove to the girl in the long nighty. Least it seemed like a nighty to me. "Thanks, Lorenzo," and I even managed a smile for my captor. I was going to be the model prisoner and not cause any fuss! At least not yet.
　

The girl softly took my hand and led from the room, down a dimly lit corridor of old brick and mortar to a small, shockingly well lit room where another girl was waiting. I was thinking of Cat, and wondering if she had been taken somewhere similar. "With your permission, Mr. Karp..." and the other half of the twin started untying my necktie, while her companion helped me off with my jacket. The twin was a redhead and the other girl was a blonde. I liked redheads. I also liked blondes and brunettes. Cat was a brunette and had the most magical blue eyes! "Hey girls, shouldn't we at least have dinner first?" and that made them giggle. See? I wanted to be a likable prisoner. 
　

I have to admit I was worried about Cat, and worried about the two of us as a whole. I was also worried about Ribbons since no one had mentioned him. I speculated the fiends had killed him once they ran us off the road, but didn't ask for fear thats exactly what I would learn and that would scare Cat that much more. Unless she already knew what happened. 
　

I was none too convinced Lorenzo would pay Cat, and then hire me to fetch whatever he was looking for. Indeed, I held no belief that Cat was going to be able to help him at all, but I didn't want her to lie either! It was my hope she believed in herself enough to be convincing to Lorenzo just enough to keep this game going. So long as I was breathing, I was in the game, and so long as I was in the game, fortunes could turn.
　

The attendants stripped me down to me birthday suit and while I am not most modest fellow, I must admit I was mildly uncomfortable with their almost clinical attentions. They wiped me down with cool water and then some oils that had a musky odor I did not find pleasant, but not revolting either. 
　
When they were done, the brunette turned to the blinde and bowed slightly. "Thank you for aid, Sister Carol."

"You are quite welcome, Sister Alice," and she too bowed. Then they hugged, kissed briefly, and I caught myself staring at the scene with more than fascination. I don't think I blushed, but Alice grinned at me as she produced a long balck cloak that draped over my shoulders and covered my entire naked body. It had an oversized hood and this was pushed up from behind, nearly bscuring my face. I suppose I was grateful for it, but it also added to teh strangeness everything so far. What a report was going to have to write when I got out of this! Assuming I got out of this. With Cat. In one piece and breathing.
　

I was now led from the small, well lit room down the corridor a ways until we met up with Garifini who smiled at Alice. "Thank you, Sister Alice. You look quite lovely tonight. Perhaps I will look in on you later. 
　

"That wpuld be joyous, Albert..." there was an excited catch of breath. "Sir Albert. Please forgive." There was an emphasis on the 'Sir' and then she bowed and back away. 
　

"Miss Manners ain't got nothing on you folks!" amd I let out a long whistle. 
　

Garifini pressed a finger to his lips and spoke in a hushed tone. "Mr. Lorenzo prides himself on his courtesy and etiquette. He believes that the servants, when they perform well, should be told so and rewarded with kind words or other treats." He turned and started moving again down the corridor and I found myself speechless at Garifini's words. I shook it off and followed and found myself grateful no one had spoken to me so sweetly since I've been here. I certainly didn't want to be seen as a servant.
　

== Chapter 8==

'''Red Hall and Red Cloaks
'''


The corridor led us directly into a long room appropriately called the Red Hall. The two lonmg walls were covered in a rich cherry wood, but the far wall was a romanesque base relief of a Bacchanal orgy. It filled the entire wall with a scene of indiscriminate and graphic debauchery the likes of which even I had never seen before. On the cherry walls were various paintings depicting further scenes of fornication, often showing women with angels or demons of some sort. the room was lit only by candles that burned in red glasses and cast an eery atmoshpere if the base relief and the paintings weren't enough. At intervals, on either wall, steel rings were set in the brick and I wondered if these were for restraints; considering what I had seen so far.
　

In the center of the room was one large round table of cherrywood like the walls surrounded by sixh chairs and in its center were carved, in a very shallow pattern a circle of more fornication. I decided then that Lorenzo was definitely off his rocker. I might be a bit worldly about such things, but this was far beyond that pale, in my opinion.
　

Despite being round, there was obvious two ends to the table. One of the chairs had an incredibly high back that was topped with three spires of a gothic nature. The back was carved with inhuman looking faces contorted in pain and anguish and it actually made me wince. As though there was true pain trapped in that chair. In that chair was Lorenzo, wearing a bright red satin cloak, but instead of a hood, he had a high collar that reached past the top of his head.
　

Opposite him was another high backed chair, but with different carvings. It was all disembodied hands and fingers that were reaching up, but for what, I wasn't sure. Somehow, I didn't get the sense they were reaching for succor, but reaching to graps something to pull back. And thats where Cat sat, also wearing a bright red satin cloak with no hood, but a collar that did not come up as high Lorenzo's. I studied her to see if she how she was. The poor kid, I was certain she was scared witless with all the theatrics here and I would have gone to sit next to her, but both chairs were occupied. Lorenzo wordlessly bade me sit in the one remaining seat which was to his right. I supposed he wanted a close eye on me.
　

Fo5r lack of a better word, I obeyed and as I sat, I took a look at the other occupants of the table. To Lorenzo's left was a man I did not recognize but bore a smarmy, unsavory look who was wearing a hooded cloak similar to mine.. I did not like how he was looking at Cat, but I could hardly blame him either. She did look god over there and I admonished myself for my thoughts. I was sure she was in the same state of undress as I was (and the rest of us I was to learn) and any little movement she made was going to reveal a glimpse of something. I caught myself, in one brief instance, straining my gaze at the parting of her cloak. hers was the only cloak tied at her neck, but there was otherwise no other fastenings.
　

To the unsavory fellows left was woman in a brith white cloak and hood who had been chatting with the fellow until she took notice of me. 
　

"Dash! Darling! What a surprise! I never figured you for such..." and she dipped her chin in some false modesty, "clandestine things." She giggled then and I caught a glimpse of the blonde hair beneath her cloak. Gladys Rutherford of all people! I wasn't quite sure how to repsond to her so I went for teh socially lighthearted. "Don't forget we have a date tonight, Gladys!" Actually, I was hoping my acquiantance with one of his guests might further dissuade Lorenzo from any actions he might have to answer questions about. Now someone had seen me in Lorenzo's place!
To Glady's left was Cat, whom my eyes kept returning to, and to Cat's left was another woman in a white hooded cloak who's only feature I could discern was her mouth. A perfect mouth. beuatifully and alluringhly painted red and her skin seemed smoother than the satin she wore. I was...entranced. Quite unlike me, and it took some effort to pull my gaze away and check on Cat once more. 
 

His arms around her were startlingly reassuring, drawing on the natural energy inherent in all living creatures to steady the shivery wash of the lingering chill.  His energy was warmer, more..alive...than most, a fact she definitely took notice of as she heard movement and other voices.  She was grateful he slapped away Albert's hands, standing straight she gave a small nod to indicate she had heard him, deep blue eyes meeting his a moment with a shadow within, uncertain if he knew how...odd...things might get.  She clasped her arms around her own waist, giving the sheer nightgown woman a withering gaze as she reached for the gypsy.
"Just walk."
Not sharp, in fact her words seemed lyrical in that Irish brogue.  The woman bowed her head and led the way from the room, Cat blowing out a breath and following.  She was brought to a room similar to the one Dash was, though instead of bright light there was a twilight light courtesy of recessed sconces along the high walls. The scent of sandlewood and myrrh were noted first as well as the two women awaiting in the room.  They were exceptionally courteous about asking her to remove her clothing and she almost outright refused.  In this case, however, it was less shyness and more the hidden jewel and cash she was loathe to let be seen. Only the memory of Dash telling her to cooperate fully kept her from making a  fuss.  Well, that and that she was fairly sure Robert would be all too happy to rip her clothes off if she refused. She turned her back on the women, sliding her dress down with a deft catch and fold of hidden goods.  The best she could manage was hoping no one shook out or folded or touched her garments.  Once nude she turned back, chin high.  Her cheeks were hot but she refused to act as if she were horrifed.
"Now what?"
The woman closest took her hand gently and led her to a low table where the censers burned the resins.  She took a cloth and dipped it into cool water, Cat's eyes catching the beads atop the water and knowing as it touched her skin that it was rue and rosemary oil in the water.  Her breath caught slightly, uncomfortable with being washed down but the woman was professional, clinical, and soon done.  She felt the other slide the red satin cloak around her shoulders and tie it closed at her throat before waving a hand to Cat, indicating she should proceed through a door on the opposite side of the wall from where she entered.  She eyed the candle lit walkway suspiciously, the scent of the oils closing around her like a cool hand at her throat.  She nodded, walking up the stone hallway slowly, hands keeping the cloak closed.  She jumped slightly as she came to what seemed a dead end, only to watch the wall slide away alowing her to step through into the Red Room.  She saw the table ahead and the chairs and did not think to look behind herself until she saw the predatory gaze of Lorenzo shift and heard the wall shift again.  Turning her head, she saw the orgiastic relief and saw the wooden wall close over the image of a woman carved in the wall, her nude body caught in the claws of two demons, arched between them and clearly engaged in some sexual act that, frankly, Cat would have lay good odds was not physically possible.  Her jaw tightened a bit as she turned back to the table, Lorenzo gesturing with a wave of hand where she was to sit.  Blue gaze fell on the chair as she approached it, an almost palpable sense of earthy energy coming from it.  She swallowed as she sat down, only then did her hands let go of the cloak, half expecting the chair to close around her.  The scent of loam and peat was strong and she looked at the others, Dash not yet having joined them.  A cold tendril of energy breathed along the hollow of her throat and she set blue gaze on the man in the black cloak beside Lorenzo.  There was a sense of raw age about him and his dusky features reminded her 
of someone out of the Mediterranean or Egypt.  She shuddered, his amber eyes too light in his skin and altogether too familiar upon her.  The colors made immediate sense to her, a wry look to Lorenzo.
"Surely you do not expect me to act as priestess to your priest."
Half question, half statement.  The Great Rite definitely off the table, or walls.  There came a soft chuckle from the woman in white with the red bow of mouth, her energy hot where the dusky man's was cold.  An almost suffocating press of roses surrounded her and her own energy flared, flicking back the metaphysical touch easily and sharply, sharp enough that the woman's head turned to regard her then to look at Lorenzo, chuckling again.
"Ooooooh this one you have found...interesting."
Lorenzo gave the woman a seductive smile.
"Oh Magdalena you might just be right about that."
The sound of a door opening drawing the attention of those at the table, Dash framed in the doorway before it closed behoind him.  Blue eyes tracked him as he approached and sat, hearing the words exchanged but her gaze drawn to the center of the table, vision distant as she listened for more than words.


On one hand, I found Lorenzo's appearance almost laughable. He reminded me of something out of a stage play of Mephistolese or some such. On the other hand, in the context of the room, there something quite ominous about it all. 
"Miss Flynn," 
Lorenzo began, 
"I have asked you to join us in reaching through the veils between life and death. To seek the aid of a spirit that passed oh so very long ago. The last known possesor of the Missile of Eros. Hazzan Al'Khazzan, once the Emir of Hormuz." 
So Lorenzo had really done his homework for this and I was certain he had agents scour the Persian Gulf for any former possessions of the Al'Khazzan. But now he was resorting to a seance to get information? Lorenzo made a hand motion and one of the twins emerged from the shadows carrying a small velour pillow with something on it that was covered by a black satin scarf. The girl placed it in front of Cat and removed the scarf as she stepped away, revealing a human skull. There were bits of mummified skin here and there and a few tufts of hair clung to the scalp. It was set on the table in such a way that it stared at Cat almost daringly. I thought I caught a whiff of death when the skull was revealed, but certainly it was too old to have such an odor. Still, the room seemed to darken some, and close in. My own imagination, surely, but I kept my eyes on Cat as Lorenzo spoke further. 
"Before you, Miss Flynn, is the skull of Al'Khazzan. It is my hope it will aid in focusing his spirit to our table. Please proceed." 
All eyes went to Cat then in the same way the skull stared at her. For my part, I was just hoping she could make it convincing and Lorenzo wuld believe whatever she told him and we could continue the wild goose chase outside these walls. A wild goose chase for an old stone dildo of all things!

The theatricality of it all might look ridiculous to her as well, were it not for the energy in the room, she saw it as easily as some could readily identify a c sharp from a b flat with perfect pitch.  The air itself told her there was more at play here than smoke and mirrors.  The words Lorenzo spoke were over the top and yet she nodded solemnly, she had agreed to help and was too far in now to try and backpedal.  She flicked a glance at Dash, worried that he might not really be alright with what could go down, but just as fiercely hoping he would not abandon her here no matter what.  The approach of the woman and the revelation of the skull brought a small quirk of lips in a secretive smile, she had known death or its talisman was near and now here it was.  The dusky skinned man whispered a soft litany of words in Farsi, making a hand gesture at the skull as if he would ward it away and she chuckle.
"Not so easy when face to face, is it Mister Al Tariq?" 
Yeah, she knew his name, not sure how but that happened. His cast a viscious look her way, his hands tightening on the arms of his chair, half rising.
"Simmer down Arnav, let her work."
Lorenzo's voice a mixture of displeasure at the man and the sort of rapt fascination one might have heard in the voice of a cobra stalking a mongoose had they been audible.  Cat reached for the skull, sliding the the edge of her own chaor as she did so, cloak parting just enough to offer a glimpse of pale flesh down the center of her body. Her hands hovered over the skull a moment, a soft catch of breath as she felt a new and different energy wrap around her ankles and slithering upwards, blue eyes rolling back.

I didn't like this to nstart and I was liking it even less when Cat's eyes rolled back. Or how she knew the smarmy fellow. The woman next to him, whom Lorenzo called Magdelena, reached for my hand on top of the table and grabbed hold. Her flesh was warm. No, more like hot, but dry, not clammy. I remember I wanted to pull my hand away just because I didn't want the distraction, but somehow I didn't. I glanced to her and could now see her full face, which was beautiful in the extreme. 
"Are you okay, Cat?" 
I was about to rise when Lorenzo grabbed hold of my other hand and I stilled...reluctantly. I turned to Lorenzo who seemed utterly entranced by Cat and that's when I noticed her cloak had parted further and I could easily see the full cleavage and roundness of her breasts. I had to shake my head and blink my eyes! It was absurd that I should be leering at Cat's flesh in such a moment as this! 

She could feel that Arnav and Gladys wanted to touch her, they being to either side of her, and yet they did not, dissuaded perhaps by the pulse of dark energy that was working its way up her body.  Instead, they linked hands behind the gypsy, in essence sealing her inside the circle.  It was as Lorenzo took hold of the hands to either side of him that Catarina jerked as if struck, her voice rising in a hollow tone as if echoing down a long hall.
"By bone and earth I call upon you."
Hands touching to the skull and lifting it, raising it toard the candles above.
"By fire and incense I call to you."
She lowered the rancid skull to her eye level, bringing it to her lips, breath washing into the grinning mouth, a small flap of dried skin fluttering as she blew into its mouth as if she might kiss it.
"By air and sky I call to you."
She brought the skull to turn some, bringing her wrist to its mouth, drawing her inner wrist against its teeth just enough to produce a trio of blood drops that she allowed to spill into its mouth.
"By blood and power I call to you."
She set the skull atop the circle of shallow sexual imagery, her voice rising in cadence and power.
"By birth and bloodright I call to you Hazzan Al'Khazzan, I call you to join me in this circle and speak!"
The candles fluttered and almost went out as a cold wind washed across the room, carrying the scent of earth and what could only be termed sex.
"I seek the Missel of Eros, lost over the ages.  Speak now, join us and tell me where it can be found and restored to its glory!"



I have to admit, she was good. The words and the way she handled taht skull had me well impressed with her ability to command a room. Of course, these people seemed quite receptive to begin with, but Cat nearly had me believing she was going to connect with the dear departed Emir of Hormuz. Now the question was, where was she going to say the damn missile was? Hopefully some place like Philadelphia, or Atalantic City or some other suitable place where I had contacts or hiding places or other resources that could get us out from under Lorenzo's thumb. I let out a breath and glanced over to Gladys. Her cloak had opened a great deal, revealing her right breast entirely. It heaved as her breathing deepened. There was a lusty look in her eye and when she caught me looking her way, the lustiness seemed to intensify. Back to Cat I stared and I nearly coughed when she came close to kissing the skull. I wanted to tell her she had gone far enough, but I mremained silent. 


There was no denying that the sexual energy in the room was rising like the tide, Magdalena eyeing Arnav as she slid open her cloak boldly, revealing the line of her flesh, breasts very full and tipped with dark nipples, not breaking the circle but rising, leaning across where he met her mouth with his, the sound of their moans and the wet kiss surrounding them all.  Gladys turned her eyes on Dash, her eyes alight with lust as she rolled her shoulders, causing the cloak to slide from her body, fabric draping over connected hands as she too half rose, her mouth seeking his.  As to Catarina herself, her breath was swift but she was on top of this energy, the dark rolling intensity of it threatening to choke her. "You WILL tell me Hazzan Al'Khazzan.  Truth only over the bond of blood and bone, air and fire."  Right then only she seemed to be immune to the sexual tension, though the very fact that her cloak slid fully open and her hands did not close it was telling.  Her chin rose, eyes intent on something none of them could see. "First...you will tell me.  Then you can have them." Her head snapped to the side as she half rose, a bloom of color at her throat, for all the world looking as if a hand grasped her throat and marked pale flesh.  She growled, a low sound in her throat that was not the sort of sound one might expect from her.  Her voice dropped a full octave, rasping like rusty metal drawn against gravel. "The central pylon, Shadows of Olympus, the Sands of Time."  She was utterly unfamiliar with nightclubs, let alone naughty shows in Atlantic City, but if any of the rest of them were familiar with the scene in Atlantic City, they might recognize the name of the Egyptian themed club and showcase.

Lorenzo sat there with both hands palms down on the table and grinned from ear to ear. "She does have the gift! She is truly reaching through the veil!" I was about to tell Lorenzo to shut up when I was distracted by Magdelena and Arnav were slithering across the table to each other. And then, over top Magdelena, Gladys was reaching for me. In another context, I might have indulged, but I wasn't here for sex games...unfortunately. "Not now Gladys," and I shoved her face away. "Cat!" and just as I was about to go to her, Lorenzo grabbed my wrist in an unearthly grip. "She's choking!" as I tried to shake free of Lorenzo. There was no way he was that strong, so what was wrong with me? "She will come to no harm," he said in a low voice. "Cat, just tell him already," and she was rattling off things that made no sense. "Have who? What?"  I sat back down and tried not to notice all the naked breasts around me. I felt the lust tugging at me and even in her current state, the sight of Cat made the lust tug harder. It was with tremendous effort that I didn't go after some form of female flesh just then. 

As she shared the response she could feel the tight energy loosen at her throat, almost dropping the skull as she felt the lust spearing her suddenly, twisting in her seat as she fought to tamp it down.  Blue eyes went wide as she watched Lorenzo's face shift, raw hunger in the way he looked at her.  She set the skull down in the center of the table, trying to distance herself from all of it, a losing battle right then. "I hope you know just how badly things will go for you if this is anything but the truth Miss Flynn," Lorenzo's voice almost sounded like he hoped he would get a chance to put his hands on her and she sent a scared glance to Dash before licking her lips. 
"I said you could have them after you told me." Who was she speaking to?  Apparently someone no one else could see. "Them.  Not me.  Not him."  The air in the room seemed to shrink inward suddenly then a sensation akin to a popping of ears would distract them all.  Her body fell back in the chair, hands shaking a bit as she tugged closed her cloak tightly.

I wanted to punch Lorenzo for what he said to Grace. I still didn't know where the damn relic was, but Lorenzo chuckled then. "Imagine that...so close all this time." Lorenzo rose from his seat and grabbed Arnav by the hair, yanking him away from Magdelena so he could draw Magdelena to himself. She went willingly and seemed to entwine herself around Lorenzo, writhing against him. Gladys looked to me, but Arnav took hold of her and she really didn't seem to mind and I was rather grateful for his interference. Despite all the grinding of Magdelena, Lorenzo tuned to me. "I am a man of my word, Mr. Karp. I will pay Miss Flynn five thousand dollars for her service tonight, and I will pay you the same to go retrieve the Missile of Eros. It seems its in Atlantic City." While he spoke, I took advantage of his release to finally go to Cat. I pulled her cloak tighter about her and simply hovered there protectively. "We can talk about that later, Lorenzo. I'll have to contact Applewhite...he'll be looking for me by now. For the moment, I want to get Cat somewhere she can rest." 

She blinked, always a bit dazed by energy work, let alone something like this.  She knew Dash had come to stand beside her chair and she was grateful when he helped her tug the cloak closer around her flesh.  Seeing Lorenzo coming her way she stood, a bit too fast, half falling against Dash as her body reacted to the lingering hum of energy, blue eyes wide. "Do not touch me!" a hand warding off Lorenzo, not worried that he would hurt her right then, but more concerned that someone like him not come too close, not when she was this open, a raw nerve metaphysically and she leaned against Dash. "Just....yeah....I need a room, and we need privacy." A bold statement but the simple fact was she needed to get out of this room, something about it triggered her senses even just standing there and she did not want to wind up playing lightening rod for any extraneous energy that sought her out.  Plus, she was desperate to talk to Dash and be sure he was alright.

"Certainly, my friend," Lorenzo answered all too pleased with himself. I wondered how pleased he was going to be when I didn't find any stone dildo. And where did Atalantic City come from? I was working that over in my head when Lorenzo waved a hand and Alice appeared from the shadows. She was naked and flushed and obviously aroused. Her voice was husky. "Please follow me, Mr. Karp and you as well Ca...err...Miss Flynn." Cat was still leaning against me and I was quite fine with that, but Alice seemed to need to slide up against me as well. She was a pretty little thing, yes, but right now? "Just lead on, Alice," and I turned to Lorenzo. "We'll speak soon?" I was completely turned upside down right now. I didn't know what exactly Cat had told him that he believed, but for now the fact he believed it was good enough for me. "I will have Alice come and get you for dinner, Mr. Karp. Rest well." He smiled to Cat then. "Well done, Miss Flynn." We followed Alice then down several hallways until she granted us entrance to a small suite. I appreciated that Alice had given us our own rooms. "Your belongings," and she looked pointedly to Cat then, "have all been brought here. You will also find night clothes and dinner clothes laid out for you as well." I helped Cat to the couch in the main room, then tried to usher Alice from the room. She seemed a bit resistant at first. "But I was told to remain in your service to cater to either of your desires," she explained with her hand on my chest and looking up at me almost pleadingly. I gentley, but urgently, pushed her out the door. "That will be all, Alice. Go find Albert." I closed the door and stood there, staring at Cat. "Goodness that was some show!" 


== Chapter 9 ==

'''Suite Sleep'''

She did not miss that pointed look, a flicker of fear wondering if *all* of her belongings were here.  She gave Dash a grateful smile when he got rid of Alice, not wanting anyone from Lorenzo's people near her right then.  She sat on the couch, the cloak wrapped tight around herself. "Come sit?" The word not an afterthought, but spoken softly. "Please?" She frowned a slight bit at the way he put that. "Show?" She shook her head softly. "yeah, I am not half bad for a gypsy dancer, hm?" she chuckled, patting the couch beside herself. "Does that door lock?  Or can we block it with something?" She did not want to consider whether the rampant energy had spent itself or if they might get unexpected and unwelcome visitors.

There was a bolt, and I slid it closed against any unauthorized entry. I held my own cloak close about me the moment I remembered I was naked underneath. I accepted her invitation and sat next to her on the couch but left a bit of non-threatening space between us. "These folks are the lustiest bunch I ever seen. I knew Gladys could be  a loose woman, but....sheesh!" I pushed my fingers through my hair, shaking my head. "But are you all right, Cat? It looked like you were choking at one point there." I was still trying to decide how Lorenzo came up with Atlantic City and I regretted not asking where in Atlantic City he wanted me to go. But it struck me suddenly! The night club called Cleopatra's Barge. I had been there once before, but I couldn't recall any openly displayed phallic symbols. 

Under other circumstances she would have been more circumspect, but her barriers were low given the expenditure of energy, not unphased herself by the events of the evening.  She dragged a hand through the silken spill of raven hair as she smiled. "I was being choked, he was unhappy being told what to do," a small shrug was visible that shifted satin against flesh. "But if I do not retain control of the energy, it can go all...wonky." She ate up that nonthreatening distance in a smooth movement, legs on the couch, her head on his chest, a hand against a bare patch of flesh on his chest. "The trick is not to let them see you tremble really," her words lower, slower, her body nestled up close to his, the red satin cloak still worn over nude flesh as blue eyes drifted closed, dark lashes against pale cheeks.  His energy was so solid, and warm and strong that it was like setting herself adrift into safety for the first time since they had begun running.  Sleep took her down swiftly, a fading thought to mention to him about the possible night terrors, but she was sound asleep before the words could form, holding fast to him as serenity replaced the seer, even a gypsy could be alluringly innocent to look at while sleeping.

Who was so unhappy at being told what to do that he was choking her? Was she actually communicating with Al'Khazzan? Or at least believed she was? And what exactly did she mean about the energy getting 'wonky'? I thought it was pretty damn 'wonky' in there as it was! What was the significance of the colors of the robes and how they were arranged at the table? Where does she know Arnav from? I explained away the carnality as simply human lust enhanced by the atmosphere of the moment; the atmosphere being dim red light and half naked bodies. That will do it everytime!
 
My own odd feelings during the seance, I was sure, were due to the strangeness of the situation coupled with just a tinge of anxiety concerning Cat's ability to be convincing. Well seh proved to be quite convincing! Nonetheless, the rest of the scene still had me scratching my head and wondering about sanity of all those involved. Except my own, of course. At least I didn't get caught up in all the sexual stimulation. I like a naked, willing, writhing female as much as the next guy, but everything had its time and place.
　
I had plenty of questions, but whatever answers she had would have to wait. She fell asleep so sweetly againt me on the couch I simply didn't have the heart to give her a shake just so i could interrogate her. Still, as pleasant as it was, I could not just sit there while Gypsy Exotica (or was it Erotica?) caught a nap against my chest. I eased myself away, disturbing the colak as I did and it seemed her entire left side was momentarily exposed. I looked. I looked for longer than was appropriate before reluctantly covering her back up once I got myself free. So call me a cad! A masher! Any red blooded American male would have done the same thing. Her pale skin seemed flawless in its absence of blemish or blotch. Under closer scrutiny, I would say her skin was even finer than Magdelena's. In fact, I was struck by how the very thought of Magdelena seemed far alluring now than it did in the Red Hall.


She had fallen into a deep sleep, the sort where exhaustion grabs you by the throat and drags you down without asking permission or giving you time to prepare. So deeply asleep was she that she did not feel him ease off the couch much less notice the slip of cloak.  For close to an hour she was very still, cheek cradled against pale arm, breathing softly.  The first hint of anything being amiss might have been the scrunch of bare toes, a tension creeping through her sleeping form.  On the dream plane, she was seated on a long slab of marble that was carved with the imagery akin to that on the walls of the red room.  Her dream body moved, hands sliding over the carvings as she rolled to her belly then her back, sightless eyes opening as a grey and blue cloud slithered up over the stone to lick along her bare arms and legs.  Breath was hard to get and what breath she could gain was used in soft small moans as disembodied hands clutched at her, pulled her hair, and suddenly in the dream she was in the carved chair again only this time the hands carved on it were alive, hot and dry as spiderwebs.  On the couch she writhed, the cloak fell open as she threw herself to her back, muscles constricting as she threw her head back.  Blue eyes opened though she was not awake and she shrieked helplessly, night terrors holding her in their grasp.

While Cat slept, I decided to inspect my surroundings. It was clean, pleasantly decorated, but not in the ostentatious fashion I might have expected from Lorenzo. At least there were no pornographic scenes on the walls. I think it might have made Cat uncomfortable. I went into the bedroom designated for me and found the dinner clothes laid out on the bed. I was thinking it might be a good time to take a shower and get ready for dinner, when I heard some stirring in the sitting room. I looked trough the door to the couch and saw Cat writhing restlessly and once again her cloak fell open, but now she was fully exposed and I caught myself staring again. I started to move to the couch with every intention of carrying her to her bed, covering her, and tucking her in before getting my shower. But then she screamed. It was a horrific scream that I would not have guessed she could produce. But it had me covering the distance from the bedroom door to the couch in just four strides. This time, I didn't even bother to cover her up and grabbed her shoulders, sitting her upright. "Cat! Its okay! You're safe!"

'''''Cat'''''

CatarinaFlynn: ::trapped in the grip of the night terror she was not seeing him or feeling his hands on her shoulders.  Instead she was fighting the feeling of hands seizing her hair, drawing her head back until her throat was taut, capturing her 
CatarinaFlynn: wrists and ankles in a painful grip.  The disembodied hands yanked her thighs apart, more crowding over her breasts and belly, even between her thighs as muscles quivered, fighting with all her strength to no avail.  Voices crawled 
CatarinaFlynn: through her brain murmuring 'ours, owed, ours, forever', triggering more screams as her physical body matched the dreamscape motions.  Gods if she only were aware of what her limbs were doing, she might have been mortified.  As it 
CatarinaFlynn: was, she was caught in the spectral grip, the temperature around her body and his dropping precipitously::/d
Dash Karp: "Cat!" I shook her, but she seemed locked in a nightmare. "Cat!" She seemed to be siezed by something I could not see, and it was suddenly cold. The way she opened her legs stunned me and I shook her harder to no avail. "Cat! Wake 
Dash Karp: up!" This was all so strange to me and I wonder just what Cat was afflicted with. I am a well read man, but psychology was something I never really looked in to. I was ignorant of methods or practices that might aid her now so I 
Dash Karp: resoted to good old slap across her face. It was enough to leave a red mark on her left cheek, and then I pulled her close, fully within my embrace depsite her nakedness. She could call me names later if she wished, but lust was not
Dash Karp: my motivation. I just wanted teh screaming to stop. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she would have to give it to him, the slap was a genius move for someone unaccustomed to dealing with such things.  The slap rocked her head, cheek going bright hot pink and it might hurt later but right then in her awareness a 
CatarinaFlynn: warm wind blew off the hands, wrapping around her body tightly and lifting her from the hateful chair.  That he was holding her close against his body was fantastic, as she often came out of these still unsure of which world her 
CatarinaFlynn: awareness was in.  She stiffened, struggling a moment:: no no!!! don't let them...not theirs...no!! please! ::breathing hard, her arms were like slim steel bands around him as she closed her eyes tightly:: nonono ::murmuring like a
CatarinaFlynn: liturgical prayer::/d
Dash Karp: I wanted to soothe her and comfort her but I was completely out of my element and, quite frankly, I was wondering if I wanted to be in this particular element at all. "Shhhh...its okay now, Kitten. I got you." But I really had no 
Dash Karp: idea what it was I had. Not entirely true. I did know I had a scared, perhaps unstable naked gypsy girl in my arms. And I was not even trying to take advantage of that fact! "I won't let them do anything you don't want," though I 
Dash Karp: didn't know who 'they' were. Indeed it was becoming increasingly clear I didn't know much in this case. I was usually on top of things. I usually had three or more advanced plans running at teh same time, with as many escape routes 
Dash Karp: all mapped out. But in this case, I was flying blind without a parachute. I didn't even know where this place was. Were we still in Manhattan? Or some other property of Lorenzo's? Was Applewhite looking for me? Was I really going to
Dash Karp: Atlantic City? Was he going to hold Cat for security? I mentally shook my head while I still held Cat close and wondered if I would even get a moment to consider it all. Or maybe I didn't want to consider it. The outlook might not 
Dash Karp: be good. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::his voice, a deep baritone against her ear as her arms snaked around his neck, pressing close as she slowly eased into the here and now.  She was aware that her cheek was hot, less conscious of the press of bare skin to his bare 
CatarinaFlynn: skin, no shower taken yet so his cloak was presumably on still.  She was shaking softly, voice low:: I'm sorry, it...sometimes the energy....it leads to night terrors ::she was suddenly caught on a word, easing her grasp back and 
CatarinaFlynn: meeting his gaze with a lift of brows:: I thought you were only calling me that for show, you know....out there ::somewhat happily surprised that none of Lorenzo's people had burst through the bolted 
CatarinaFlynn: door to see why she was screaming.:: ohhhh ::realization hitting like a tap on the shoulder, sudden;y terribly well aware of the skin to skin part going on:: I am real sorry if I scared you Dash ::her chin dipping some::/d
Dash Karp: Dammit! I called her 'Kitten' and didn't even realize it, and she caught it. I would certainly have to be more aware. "I apologize, Catarina. It just sort of came out in the moment." She also realized she was naked and against me, 
Dash Karp: so I did the chivalrous thing and eased her back and pulled her cloak closed. "I don't scare easy, Catarina. If that whole circus with lorenzo didn't scare me, I think I can handle you having a bad dream." Night terrors she called 
Dash Karp: it? It sure seemed terrifying. I removed myself from the couch and made sure my own cloak was held closed and started for my bed room. "Why don't you get a shower, and then I will. I don't know when they will be calling on us for 
Dash Karp: dinner." ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she knew she was blushing but she cast a look his way, eyes of bluest blue wreathed in raven lashes:: I didn't say I wanted an apology Dash ::and the smile that curled was a rare glimpse at the gypsy without pretense of oddity. 
CatarinaFlynn: She rose from the couch, keeping the cloak wrapped tight:: I hope they put my clothes here ::walking barefoot into her room, she saw clothing, though not her own, laid out.  It was a dinner dress in sapphire blue and from the look
CatarinaFlynn: of it, they were determined to capitalize on the gypsy idea, the skirt very full and the top a bandeau with a sheer panel to the low waistband.  She gathered it up and headed for the shower:: do we have to eat with them? ::frowning,
CatarinaFlynn: pretty sure she was happier not to, though realistic options were few and far between.  Dropping the cloak, she stepped beneath the hot water, steam filling the room::/d
Dash Karp: "We cannot be rude to our garcious host, Catarina," I gave a flippanty answer from my room. It was obvious I was not going to get to the opera, but if Gladys was at diiner, that should count for something, right? She had been trying
Dash Karp: to hire me for some time now to go find a relative in Africa. I didn't want to flat out say no, but I was also in no hurry to go chaing down rumors of of a white man raised by apes. I looked over the clothes laid out for me. Not 
Dash Karp: quite my style, though certainly of contemporary fashion. A brown suit though? Not my best color. The suit I originally put on this morning was hanging in the closet all nice and pressed. Now I was wondering if tehre was some 
Dash Karp: significance to the brown suit for dinner. Just another reminder I was quite lost here, but had to keep my head for my own sake as well as Cat's. Catarina. I had to remember to call her Catarina. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she finished her shower and dressed, taking a moment to note that her dress was in the closet, a small handkerchief tied within the neckline inside.  She checked, all of the cash and the brooch still intact, a bit surprised to be 
CatarinaFlynn: truthful:: well, if they try to feed me anything weird I am sticking it in your napkin ::teased as she emerged, heels adding three inches of height, though that still left her well below his height:: well, on the bright side, at 
CatarinaFlynn: least we are out of those cloaks ::almost adding that they could have rid themselves of the cloaks earlier, a bit scandalized by the thought but she just grinned::/d
Dash Karp: "I rather thought gypsies ate weir stuff all the time," I teased back. Well at least her mood seemed more relaxed and on the surface I could my mood relaxed as well. I was good at that. But undrneath I was a cauldron of boiling 
Dash Karp: thoughts and plans and contingencies. I rushed into the shower, sudsing up, rinsing off, jumping out, brushing teeth and a quick shave. I didn't bother to check for my gun in my suit because I simply didn't expect it to be there. I 
Dash Karp: did dress in the dull brown suit with the dull brown socks and the dull brown shoes and a glimpse in the mirror had me wondering if this was some psychological ploy by Lorenzo. Or maybe he hoped I would appear less appealing to
Dash Karp: the women. I did have a way with women and I was rather proud of that. Perhaps Lorenzo was aware of my relationship with Gladys, or noticed how Magdelena looked at me. Perhaps he wanted to get his hands on Cat. Now that thought 
Dash Karp: bothered me a bit, but certainly I had no right to be possessive. I was never possessive with women. If, by some chance, Cat had interest in Lorenzo, well who was I to stand in teh way? The suit came equipped with a gray bowtie, of 
Dash Karp: all things, and I emerged from my room still tying it. When i saw what Cat was wearing, my fingers fumbled on the tie and I had to start over. "Its obvious they like you better than me." ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she was not self conscious as a rule, though his comment about them liking her brought a soft chuckle:: hm, pretty certain I do not want them to see me as anything other
CatarinaFlynn: than a plain Jane Dash.  With these people....::she shook her head:: so you know that one woman then, yeah? ::she smiled, bothered by the fact that the fact bothered her.  She eyed his suit:: though I do have to say, that is 
CatarinaFlynn: not your color.  ::she used the small wall mirror to apply the deep wine colored lipstick:: and we eat well, not like you lot here thank you kindly ::her accent making the statement jovial over irritable, though the wink his way 
CatarinaFlynn: helped::/d
Dash Karp: I finished the knot on the tie and smirked at myself in the mirror. "Well, this is better than that cloak," then I looked to her, "though I am sure Lorenzo and the dusky fella will still be staring at you." There was a cigarette 
Dash Karp: case and lighter on the end table by the couch and I helped myself, inhaling deeply and enjoying it immensely. "Yes, I have known Gladys for a couple years. She comes from old English money, though her branch of the family tree 
Dash Karp: settled here some thirty years ago. She's become a contributor to the Explorers Club, so I have been 'encourage' to not upset her." Actually saying it sounded rather sleezy and I almost felt like a gigolo for a brief minute. I 
Dash Karp: wanted to switch the topic to her and ask my questions, but just then I wasn't sure what I really wanted answers to. "So, how did you come up with that whole 'Sands of Time' thing? Getting us sent to Atlantic City works out as well 
Dash Karp: as anything. I was afraid we'd be sent globetrotting for the stone d...." I caught myself! "Err, the Missile of Eros." ()
 

OnlineHost: *** You are in "The IrishCrownAffair". ***
CatarinaFlynn: ::she, too, helped herself to a cigarette, casting a mild lifted brow his way when he almost spoke of the item in cruder terms, amusement in blue eyes though she did not comment aloud on that:: come up with it?  Well, it is a bit
CatarinaFlynn: like eavesdropping on a nearby conversation I suppose.  I just deliver the message ::a small shrug was seen, absolutely at ease about her skills:: do you really think he will send us both to fetch it? ::a nervous draw of teeth along
CatarinaFlynn: lower lip revealed her concern, tied to his comment about Lorenzo and  the dusky man:: do you know what the darker skinned man, Arnav, is doing here? Do you know Magdalena? ::glances now and again at the door, then seeking a clock, 
CatarinaFlynn: Nervous was one word for it:/d
Dash Karp: I blew a couple of smoke rings, then began a different sort of search of the room. There were no windows, but there was a bar and I set my cigarette in an ashtray. "I'm hoping I can get Lorenzo to let you be sent back to Applewhite 
Dash Karp: while I go to Atlantic City and come up with some story to explain why it wasn't there," because I truly did not believe it would be found. "Want a drink, Catarina?" I was already pouring myself a stiff scotch without ice since no 
Dash Karp: ice was present. "I never seen Maggy or Arnj before, but my gut tells me their shadey." My gut was also a bit less certain of Gladys now as well, but that was another issue. After a snort of the scotch, I took up the cigarette 
Dash Karp: once again. "So what conversation were you eavesdropping on?" ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she frowned, a hand going to a curve of hip, well displayed in the style of dress::  and if I do not want to go to Applewhite, the man I have never met?  ::she nodded, the same hand shifting to slide through black hair:: yes 
CatarinaFlynn: please :;and she was pacing some, smoke exhaled smoothly as she did so:: shady does not quite seem to sum it up, hm? ::his last question drew a glance of blue gaze:: Khazzan was speaking to me, I relayed his message to the group.  
CatarinaFlynn: ::she chuckled:: it used to startle me when others could not see or hear some things, but I have grown used to it I suppose. /d
Dash Karp: I poured just a finger's worth of scotch into a tumbler for her and carried it over to her. "I apologize, Catarina. That was rather presumptuous of me. Once I get you out of here, you are, of course, free to go where you like." I 
Dash Karp: then took a step, doing my damndest not to leer or stare. That little number Lorenzo chose for her was rather fetching and more than just pulled it off. "However, please remember there is still an offer on the table for the Irish
Dash Karp: Crown Jewels that Applewhite would like to discuss with you. But if Lorenzo comes through with the five large he promised," I shrugged, "that's sure enough to set a lady like you up in tarot cards for a good while." I took another 
Dash Karp: hit off the cigarette then snuffed it out in the ashtray. "So Khazzan actually spoke to you?" Uh huh. "What exactly did he say to you? How does it work? How did he come all the way here?" Even if I was giving her the benefit of the 
Dash Karp: doubt - which I wasn't quite there yet - these were legitimate questions. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she took the drink, meeting his gaze as she lifted it to her lips and swallowed some:: a lady like me, hm? ::again, it was amusement that danced in blue depths:: has it truly never occurred to you that
CatarinaFlynn: it is you I wish to stay with? ::she almost managed not to blush, but failed as she turned to pace:: I have not forgotten, and hope you recall that I have not agreed to sell or give anything to your friend.  ::she took another small
CatarinaFlynn: sip:: so this Explorer's Club is sort of a money club, hm? ::his questions about Khazzan were not ignored, she simply needed to figure how to explain something that even among her own people was hard to fathom:: he did, as far as I 
CatarinaFlynn: could tell from the energy.  The fact that I held and fed his skull helped hone in on him, so to speak/d
Dash Karp: Fed his skull? I wasn't even going there. "I think it would have been even more presumptuous if such a thing had indeed occurred to me," I chuckled and swallowed back the rest of my scotch and set the empty tumbler on the bar. "I 
Dash Karp: just wanted to remind you that there was an offer there. An offer you need do nothing about, Catarina." Now why would she want to with me? Well, not that it was unusual, but I had certainly not meant to lead her on. "The energy, you
Dash Karp: say?" Applewhite would be fascinated with the gypsy girl, and while I did hope she would agree to meet with him, if she chose otherwise, I would absolutely see to her wishes. "Catarina, I really don't undrstand that sort of thing. I
Dash Karp: prefer to deal with what I can see and touch. Feankly, this whole set up here and Lorenzo and the other..." I shook my head, "I'm not too comfortable with at all." I would rather be running from a tribe of angry pygmies. "So please 
Dash Karp: forgive my skepticism." I poured a bit more scotch into my tumbler and added some soda water to cut it a bit. "In any case, I usually work alone. It would be safer if you didn't go to Atlantic City with me." () 
CatarinaFlynn: ::she was quiet for a long moment as she went to sit on the couch again, ankles crossing demurely though that only added to the way the dress hugged her body:: it would only be presumptuous if it were untrue.  In this case, it would
CatarinaFlynn: have been prescient ::and she quirked a smile, despite her job on stage she was anything but adroit at flirting, not when it was for real.  A secxuctive smile under the spotlight was easy, required nothing. She nodded softly, 
CatarinaFlynn: throwing back the rest of her drink and extending the glass his way:: another please? ::she watched him, he was certainly easy to watch and she shifted some, her voice soft and smooth:: anything but skepticism is generally either 
CatarinaFlynn: someone who is desparate, whether for information or to impress me is irrelevant :;and she laughed some, leaning back:: and I usually do not spend my days being kidnapped...twice...meeting lunatics and being threatened with death, 
CatarinaFlynn: or worse.  ::she grinned some:: safer does not seem to be a choice here, other than what I have seen, which is that I am safer with you than without you. /d
Dash Karp: She quirked a smile and I quirked a brow. But I did manage to pour a bit more scotch into her tumbler. "Take it easy with that stuff. You might need your wits about you at dinner." I set the bottle down and gave her a look and
Dash Karp: considered the pros and cons of taking her with me to Atlantic City. Another wild goose chase, I was sure.. "There's a lot of bad men in that shore town, Catarina. If I can get you to Applewhite's chateau, you'll be safer there than
Dash Karp: you would anywhere, believe me. Plus I jus' ain't useta takin' dames wit' me on cases, ya see?" I was practicing already for conversations with Jumpin' Joe Harrigan, who owned and operated Cleopatra's Barge. Harrigan seemed like a 
Dash Karp: likable fellow. Rather disarming in a way that could make you forget he was
Dash Karp: a criminal. While Cleopatra's Barge was an above board and legit night club, Harrigan also owned several other speak easies as well where the booze flowed and the women showed! ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she took the drink and leaned back, accentuating the line of her body in the stunning blue:: I got the impression that the dames in your life are more of a dame in every town, no? ::not upset by that, just acknowledging what it 
CatarinaFlynn: seemed was the case::  and if you do not think bad men lurk around most corners, well, actually, I don;t suppose you have to worry about that much. ::she pursed her lips some, considering her next words:: if my going with would 
CatarinaFlynn: impede your ability to work the dames, then I suppose that is how it must be.  I do think, however, that I would be helpful.  ::as she spoke there came a pounding on the bolted door and a rattle of the door handle::/d
Dash Karp: It was generally more than one dame in every town, but I felt no need to brag. "It has nothing to do with the dames and everything to do woth the work," and I could hear my words coming out a bit clipped. I decided to slip the 
Dash Karp: cigarette case in my pocket, not knowing if any smokes would be available at dinner. "How do you think you would be helpful, Catarina? You going to get the ghosts to give you passwords? Or do you plan to dance for Harrigan and 
Dash Karp: distract him while I purloin the statuette and make good my escape?" I smiled, hoping the smile would less the sarcasm that was perhaps sharper than it deserved to be. Just then, there was a knock at the door, but before I could 
Dash Karp: even ask who it was, the door swung inward to reveal the twins, Alice and Carol, standing in the
Dash Karp: hallway. "Oh my, you both look..." Alice started, but Carold finished, "....deliciously wondrful." The twins smiled to each other and I nodded. "Very well, ladies...lead on." I offered my arm to Cat so that I might escort her 
Dash Karp: properly. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::His words were unexpectedly harsh and she could feel her cheeks heat as color spread.  She felt her body tense, sitting up as the unexpectedness of his reply hit home.  She was embarassed and that was something she was not used to
CatarinaFlynn: feeling really.  The smile did not ease the sharp ache of realizing she had been wrong, apparently.  Too often the target of glances and whispers and snide laughter, his tone brought that back home and she could feel the stage smile
CatarinaFlynn: replace the genuine one:: think nothing of it ::the opening of the door brought her to her feet smoothly, gaze shifting to the twins.  If she was discomfitted by their admiring tone it did not show:: dinner sounds like a wonderful
CatarinaFlynn: plan ::she would rather have walked on her own, but she took his arm in a featherlight touch, it would take someone who knew her well or looked carefully to know how she really felt about all of this::/d
Dash Karp: The twins turned about and we followed them to a flight of steps that went up to another level. Somehow, I felt we were still in a subterranean area since I had yet to see a single window. Shortly, we entered a dining hall that was 
Dash Karp: was richly appointed with oaken furniture of a very old design, but this room had nothing of the more salacious flavor of the Red Hall. Magdelena, Arnav, and Gladys were all there but Lorenzo was yet missing. There were waiters or  
Dash Karp: some such milling about the long dining table, filling water glasses and wine goblets and adjusting every piece of silverware to perfection. The moment we entered, Gladys hurried over and literally stole me from catarina. "You 
Dash Karp: simply must let me have him for dinner, dear," she smiled far too sweetly and hurried me toward the table as though she wanted distance between us and the others. I never considered Gladys a bimbo; just a bored, rich socialite who 
Dash Karp: resolved herself to enjoying life with daddy's money. "I need to get you alone. I know what Lorenzo
Dash Karp: is up to." But taht exchange, if it was sincere, ended abruptly when Lorenzo entered. "I am quite cross that we are missing the opera, Dash. I am still holding you to it!" I was tuning her out just then as I noticed how everyone 
Dash Karp: else was dressed. Lorenzo in formal dinner wear with top hat and tails and Arnav in some sort of formal Arabic attire. Magdelena and Gladys were wearing similar long gowns that hugged their figures not only perfectly, but 
Dash Karp: provocatively as well. Magdelena's was backless right down to her tail bone, while Gladys's seemed dip far below her sternum, giving a great view of her cleavage. And then there was Cat and myself looking, in comparison, like we 
Dash Karp: were on our way to the county fair. Lorenzo immediately took charge of Cat, 'insisting' that he be her escort for the rest of the evening. "Please! Everyone be seated," Lorenzo called to his guests, but then all attention went to 
Dash Karp: Cat. "I am fascinated by what you accomplished, Miss Flynn. Later, I do hope you will tell me more of your
Dash Karp: abilities. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::when Gladys ran over to tug Dash away she loosed her light touch, hands clasping in front of her body, her chin rising.  She did not miss the dress of the others, gaze lingering curiously on Arnav for a moment before the arrival 
CatarinaFlynn: of Lorenzo captured her attention.   His hands were strangely soft and hot as he wrapped one around her hand and one at her bare shoulder, steering her toward the table and
CatarinaFlynn: holding a seat for her.  She could not help but notice the attention turning to her and her chin rose, her smile as bright and false as a stage light:: oh think nothing of it, my people have a way with the mysterious is all  
CatarinaFlynn: ::downplaying the entire affair:: it was my hope that later I could have a tour of the facilities here, Dash as well.  ::She was still hurt but she was also a survivor and he was her best bet right now it seemed::/d
 
OnlineHost: *** You are in "The IrishCrownAffair". ***
CatarinaFlynn: ::she was in no way enamored of Lorenzo or his underground freak show.  The notion of a tour was intended to accomplish two things.  One, get a sense for where they were and how many were present here and two, to stall any intention
CatarinaFlynn: he had toward her that might be less than pure.  The table was set with wine glasses and she reached for one, keeping the professional mask in place as she sipped her wine and tried to ignore the decidedly annoying bimbo voice
CatarinaFlynn: coming from Gladys.  She was aware that she had zero reason to be irritated by it, and yet she was.  She looked to Lorenzo as he regarded her, his hand coming to rest on her thigh as he leaned in:: A tour might be arranged Miss 
CatarinaFlynn: Flynn....if, that is, you promise to behave for me ::The man was clearly used to being able to seduce women or something, but while her stomach lurched at hios words she gave him a dimpled smile and a thicker brogue:: sure and I 
CatarinaFlynn: would never be any trouble to anyone Mr. Lorenzo, most especially you and your small staff here /d
Dash Karp: "Not now, Gladys," I said to her out of the side of mouth. I was deeply interested in forestalling any tours in favor of just getting out of this building. "there really is very little time for that, Lorenzo. Miss Flynn and I 
Dash Karp: should be on our way to Atlantic City as soon as possible," and you need to forget about the pretty gypsy girl, I almost added out loud. Again Lorenzo's brow shut up at my temerity. "Mr. Karp, why, prey tell do youneed Miss Flynn
Dash Karp: to accompany you into that den of gangsters. She would be much safer here...with me," and the last two words had a slimey sound to them. Magdelena was was sitting across from me and studying me intently the entire.time Lorenzo was 
Dash Karp: speaking. This seemed tom induce Gladys into greater affection, which I had no time for her. I pushed ehr aside, but I knew Gladys would not be angry. "She has a connection to the item which may yet prove invaluable. Suppose its    
Dash Karp: appearance has been altered somehow." ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::As Dash spoke, Lorenzo curled an arm around the back of her chair, smoothly drawing it closer to his chair.  She flinched but softly, a gesture so small that a man of Lorenzo's ego may not have noticed but which Dash hopefully 
CatarinaFlynn: would not miss.  Her hand slid to Lorenzo's thigh as if it were natural, mask fully in place:: Mr. Karp is correct Mr. Lorenzo....think how disappointed you would be if you lost the object of your desire simply because I was here 
CatarinaFlynn: and not ion the field with him, hm? ::she could only hope her words had the effect she desired, though the heavy dark gaze of Arnav was felt across the way.  Her blue eyes swung his way, the best defense being a good offense:: do 
CatarinaFlynn: you not agree Arnav?  Such tragedy if he kiissed this rare and singular chance, no?/d
CatarinaFlynn: *chance goodbye
Dash Karp: Now she was catching on! I could feel momentum shifting to me. "You are fortunate, Lorenzo, that the owner of Cleopatra's Barge is acquaintance of min. I assure you it is far better that I deal with him in my own way, and that way 
Dash Karp: includes having Catarina with me." He wanted Cat for more than her alleged abilities, that was easy enough to see. The man's reputation might only have been whispered about, but there were a lot of whispers. "As security," I 
Dash Karp: continued, "you need not pay either Miss Flynn or myself until we return with the item you
Dash Karp: seek." This whole time, Magdelena never took her eyes from me, while Arnav never took his eyes from Cat. The lust was evident and growing palpable and that's when I felt something rubbing softly against my shin under the table...and
Dash Karp: Magdelena was grinning. I was too polite to tell her openly to knock it off, but I did blast her with a very brief, but very potent glare the likes of which I am sure she never received from a man in her adult life. Lorenzo was 
Dash Karp: shaking his head at the idea, but Gladys chimed in. "He's right, Renzi," that was the first time I knew of anyone calling him something different. "Afterall, Dash is one of the best in the field. I do have an entire dossier on him."
Dash Karp: Now it was time for both Lorenzo and me to raise a brow. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::Gladys did not back off, her foot nudging his shin, her hand roaming his thigh as she spoke of dossiers:: come now Dash-y..., you didn't think I would leave anything about you to
CatarinaFlynn: chance did you? ::Gladys' sing song voice making Catarina thirst to feel her throat under her hands.  Two things happened then, Lorenzo's one arm left the chair to encirlce her shoukders while Arnav shifted from across the table
CatarinaFlynn: to the other side of her, his arm also going around her, and the energy was high, tense, a thrumming sound she was having trouble suddenly in focusing past:: and can you guarantee us that Our Miss Flynn will return, unharmed and 
CatarinaFlynn: un ::he paused, allowing jis dark eyes to roam her stiff form:: unmolested from this den of inequity Mr. Karp? ::Cat herself shiftyed, sliding his hand off of her smoothly:: kindly do not sp3eak to him of my welfare Arnav unless, of
CatarinaFlynn: course, you do not believe I can handle myself? ::really no way out of that gracefuly for the dark eyed man::/d
Dash Karp: From my previous glare, Magdelena had backed off from rubbing my shin, only to have Gladys pick up where she left off. "I assure you, nothing will happen to Miss Flynn that she does not wish to have happen. I do consider her under 
Dash Karp: my protection. Don't forget, I too have business with her yet. On hold though it may be." I reached beneath the table as though to scratch my leg, but grabbed Gladys's naked foot and squeezed it in a powerful grip causing a small, 
Dash Karp: ladylike "yelp!" to come out of the High Socialite. She had dossiers on me? That was incredible and un wlecomed, bnut at teh same time quite smart of her. She bore keeping a closer eye on. Cat was speaking with some authority, but 
Dash Karp: hinestly, I did not know how well she could handle herself. Seeing her flanked by one known lecher, and another who more looked the part of the lech. "I don't trust him, Mr. Lorenzo. You promised me the gypsy would do a seance for 
Dash Karp: me once I delievered that skull to you," Arnav complained, but Lorenzo seemed almost thunderstruck when Cat removed his arm. There was an undercurrent of something else. Something that seemed to be licking at the others, but not
Dash Karp: me.At least i didn't feel anything. Magdelena was still staring at me, Gladys was draped all over me. Lorenzo and Arnav were practically drooling over Cat, and felt I was in total control of myself. Cat, on the otgher hand, was 
Dash Karp: still a mystery to me, so I had no idea how affected she was, or not. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she was the proverbial eye of the storm::  I am more than capable of handling myself ::and as she spoke, Lorenzo seemed to struggle with something. Arnav was c ast back more easily, pressed back in his seat:: I am afraid my 
CatarinaFlynn: accompanying Mr Karp is non negotiable.  He might well know a missel from THE missle of Eros, and not retieving it would be a tragedy that you can ill afford Mr. Lorenzo ::she was trying to escape the touch and influence of the 
CatarinaFlynn: lecherous pair, partially successful.  Lorenzo seemed to fight through the swarm of energy, his grip shifting from her shoulders to sinking deep into raven hair, yanking her head back and stretching her throaty taut:: Enough Miss 
CatarinaFlynn: Flynn!!!/d
CatarinaFlynn: test
Dash Karp: pass
CatarinaFlynn: phew back
Dash Karp: I shot up from my seat when Lorenzo started to get rough. "You have a funny way of trying to win allies, Lorenzo. Now get your hands off Catarina or not only will you get no help from us, but so help me I'll introduce you to pain 
Dash Karp: like you've never known," I gave Arnav a glare of hatred then. "You I'll just kill." Magdelena gasped at my movement and words. But it was more like a gasp of arousal than fear. Gladys smiled seductively. "Oh Dash! If you keep this 
Dash Karp: up I will be throwing myself at you right here and now!" I wasn't sure just how serious Gladys was but her comment wasn't even worth a retort. Lorenzo laughed, but I am sure I detected nervousness in it, and he did remove his hands 
Dash Karp: from Cat. Maybe sex was in the air again (or maybe it was a constant condition in this place) but I ignored it all and embraced the anger inside me. I embraced and controlled it all once and directed it in my steady gaze upon 
Dash Karp: Lorenzo and no one else until he replied. "Very well, Mr. Karp," Lorenzo tried to appear at ease with his hands in his lap, "we will do it your way for now. My interest in the ancient relic does exceed my growing interest in Miss 
Dash Karp: Flynn. I insist Albert accompany you both to look after my interests." Arnav had produced a hankerchief and wiped his face as though he were sweating. I felt I finally had an edge here. A tenuous edge, with little foundation, but an
Dash Karp: edge at the moment just the same. "No!" It was not simply a denial, but a demand as well. "It will be Catarina and myself. Period. Don't forget, Lorenzo, Applewhite has plenty of resources as well and is probably using them now to 
Dash Karp: find Catarina and me. Certainly you would not wish toi have your activities exposed." Lorenzo's jaw tightened and he slowly nodded but I knew I had not truly won yet. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::as Lorenzo's hands loosed their hold on her hair she drew a breath, a shivering deep breath drawn.  As Dash spoke she  rose to her feet:: there ought not BE a decision  between me and some object you seek! ::she almost toppled 
CatarinaFlynn: over Lorenzo, his hand all quiet and submissive:: I am no fighter ::in the physical sense, but mind the energy that surrounds her::/d
Dash Karp: Gladys was fanning herself while looking up at me, and Magdelena was nodding with a smile to Gladys. My performance sure had an effect on those two and a small part of me wished I could take full advantage of it. With Cat getting to
Dash Karp: her feet and away from Lorenzo and Arnav, I stepped away from my chair and went to her. Some prehistoric instinct, but I think it was less about protecting the weak and more about preserving territory. Well that might be lousy on my
Dash Karp: part, but I would analyze that and admonish myself later. "If you will excuse us, we will retire for the evening. In the morning, I want a car all gassed up and ready to go. With luck, we will be gone just one night." ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::when Dash came her way she felt Lorenzo loose his grasp of hair and his gaze shift to Dash as if it were a physical sensation:: we will be sharing a room, and a car, so do not skimp on either
CatarinaFlynn: ::her voice not nearly as sure as she wished, the realiuty of local real world grab for coin scams running scared her worse that she might have
CatarinaFlynn: imagined::/d
 

OnlineHost: *** You are in "The IrishCrownAffair". ***
CatarinaFlynn: ::she did not relax until she heard the bolt being slid into place, and even then, her version of relaxing was to head for the bar:: yes please ::softly, trying to shake off the lingering sense of energy and their touch, most 
CatarinaFlynn: especially Lorenzo's.  That his grip had hurt was unwelcome in the extreme but had lso given her a window into the fact he was not unwilling to use force to at least some degree to get what he wanted:: if you ask me those four 
CatarinaFlynn: deserve each other.  Whiskey? ::glancing to him, her eyes a stunning blue::/d
Dash Karp: "Yes," to the whiskey and I lit her cigarette for her and exchanged it for the whiskey. I personally didn't think Gladys quite fit with Lorenzo and the others. I regretted not having a chance to speak with her privately, but I had 
Dash Karp: this I needed to get Cat out of there before things got out of hand. I lit my own cigarette after a quick sip of the drink and moved about the sitting room in thought. "There is more to this game, and I have yet to fathom it. What 
Dash Karp: was the idea with these clothes he gave us?" and I tugged at my jacket. "Arnav and Magdelena have a part to play in this as well, and Gladys is the biggest mystery of all. She doesn't fit." I puffed and I drank and I ran all the 
Dash Karp: pieces through my head, but certain things refused to come together. I stopped moving about and looked directly to Cat. "So it turns out you're going with me afterall, but don't get any ideas about about being too involved. This is 
Dash Karp: just a chance to get you out of here and away from that man!" I jabbed my sternum with my thumb. "I'm the boss here, ya see? If the chance comes to drop you off someplace safe, I'm doing it and you ain't gonna argue the point!" ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she handed him the drink and took the cigarette, moving to perch on the arm of the couch and taking a drag off the smoke.  She watched him as he paced and thought, studying not only his body, admittedly a nice view, but his energy
CatarinaFlynn: signature as well.  She lifted a dark brow and tipped her head as he got all chest jabbing and dominating.  Lips pursed but she took a sip of her whiskey before speaking:: I agree that there is more to this than we yet know. I also 
CatarinaFlynn: know that Lorenzo knew exactly what I was doing, though how he knew is a mystery.  ::she frowned:: as to my going along...::she sighed, not one to really get uppity with men but she felt she had to say a little something:: I am fine
CatarinaFlynn: with you being the boss, Dash.  I cannot guarantee that I will not balk at being dropped off with some stranger like a sack of laundry. /d
Dash Karp: "You understand you won't get your money unless you return here," I wanted her to be aware of that. She did look nice in the outfit Lorenzo had provided for her, even if his intentions were....well I still wasn't sure about his 
Dash Karp: intentions. I inhaled some smoke then raised an eyebrow at her. "What do you mean he knew what you were doing? What *were* you doing that he knew and I didn't?" She was likely referring to that mystical stuff that she believed in 
Dash Karp: and I didn't. Applewhite always warned me I would come face to face with something like this one day. Despite his scientific mind, I always believed Applewhite had a secret desire to meet some vampires or ghosts. "And why do they 
Dash Karp: seem to become sexually aroused whenever you are around?" I also wondered how it was that I seemed largely resistant to whatever influenced the others. ()
CatarinaFlynn: what I was doing was simple energy work.  Harnessing the energy is easier when I am....when the situation is...::she paused, flustered by his last question:: adrenaline helps me use the energy.  Did you not see Arnav move away? See
CatarinaFlynn: Lorenzo drop his arm? He knew I was shielding and his hair grab distracted me and the energy fell.  ::she knew he did not believe in that stuff but that did not make it any less real:: as to their...arousal....it surely is not of my
CatarinaFlynn: doing!  You have been with me, and why on God's green earth they would be salivating over anyone but those two floozies is a mystery. ::an arm curled around her stomach as she spoke, uncurling it to
CatarinaFlynn: lift her drink::  tell me, do I have no effect on you at all? ::part related to the topic he broached but also a small part that was perhaps curious, more than curious, which explained the blush::/d
Dash Karp: I studied her intently as though I expected to see some outward evidence of her claim. "Are you telling me you made them back away and leave off?" It was fair unbelievable to me, but I would try real hard to keep an open mind. "How 
Dash Karp: exactly do you accomplish that?" I could at least ask, even if I might not buy the explanation offered. Afterall, if it was true, maybe I couldn't quite trust my own actions in all of this. "You think Lorenzo recognized what you 
Dash Karp: were doing? Would he have some sort of defense against it?" For now, at least, I could give her the benefit of the doubt and learn what she believed. I snuffed my cigarette out in the ashtray and thought a moment. "But you had 
Dash Karp: nothing to do with their sudden amorous desires? What sort of effect do you think you should have on me?" She did have an effect on me, but I wasn't sure, especially now, if it would serve to acknowledge such a thing. To me,
Dash Karp: it seemed the sort of effect any pretty girl might have on a fella in a more casual sense, anyway. But if her claims were true, what then? ()
CatarinaFlynn: my abilities have nothing to do with....scandalous things Dash.  I would have thought Lorenzo would have had a better defense than yanking my hair, but then I was testing him so I suppose I know now, hm? ::she swirled the whiskey in
CatarinaFlynn: her glass, watching the deep golden liquid move:: making them back off was a matter of...well it is hard to describe.  Imagine you were holding a leather strap loose in one hand and a stray dog jumped at you.  You would shift the 
CatarinaFlynn: loose grip and swing the strap, yes?  It is a bit like that.  The connection is always there, to some degreem but it can be utilized sometimes. ::his question about ehat effect she thought she should have on him made her cheeks go a
CatarinaFlynn: prettier shade of warm pink:: I was being inappropriately forward, forgive me.  Quite out of character for me and I will be careful.  I'm sorry Mr. Karp/d
Dash Karp: Inappropriately forward? I scratched my head and went for another cigarette. I didn't normally smoke so much, but it seemed to help right now. "Are you talking about my change of mind about you going to Atlantic City with me? Did 
Dash Karp: you do that?" I looked at her suspiciously. I still didn't really believe it all, but I was sure she believed it. "Can you influence Lorenzo to pay you before we leave?" That would certainly be helpful, then I wouldn't feel guilty 
Dash Karp: at all about getting her out of here and away from all this. With Five thousand smackers, she could get far, far away from Lorenzo and Applewhite as well. Of course, that meant far away from me also, which I will admit did not seem 
Dash Karp: very appelaing, but...was that *me* who found it unappealing? Really me? I blew smoke rings while I convinced myself that there was no way anyone would be able to get into my mind and make me do things I might not ordinarily do. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she gave a frustrated flap of hand before stubbing out her own cigarette:: oh for the love of.....::she fixed those bright blue eyes on him, a frown on her face:: I cannot control anyone's thoughts or actions Mr. Karp.  I can see 
CatarinaFlynn: and hear spirits and energy and, on occasion, usually negative or high emotion occasions, I can manipulate the energy. ::she threw back the rest of the whiskey and rose to her feet, snaring his glass,. acutely aware of his gaze and 
CatarinaFlynn: stature as she did so:: we need more to drink ::announced as she headed for the bar, the full gypsy skirts moving around her legs as she did so:: all I meant was a wonder if you perhaps found me not utterly awful is all ::she had no
CatarinaFlynn: real idea why she was even still talking:: again, it was forward and I apologize.  I was being foolish. ::A shame, really, as he was certainly strong and handsome, if a bit bossy::/d
Dash Karp: So we had gone back to being completely formal and of course I would accede to her preferences in that regard. Still, I remained a bit confused about the energy and how she manipulated it. "Of course I don't find ypou awful!" For 
Dash Karp: thr first time since having met Miss Exotica all of twenty-four hours ago, it seemed she might be....flirting? "But I barely know you, Miss Flynn," I would rather be calling her Kitten, "and the circumstances ain't exactly given me 
Dash Karp: much time to contemplate much more than business." And I wasn't going to start leering at her now. Not at Miss Flynn. Not that I didn't want to. I could still recall seeing her naked flesh just the night before and the idea of 
Dash Karp: seeing it again was more than appealing. I set my glass on the bar and tried to kleep my mind off her naked flesh. "Now trell me more about this spirit business. What really happens there?" ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she poured them both a healthy bit of whiskey and trued to stop blushing, not pleased that her ill ease caused him to go back to her formal name.  She almost told him to at least call her Catarina or Cat or maybe...Kitten.  But no
CatarinaFlynn: she was pretty sure she had been awkward enough for the both of them. :: I am changing out of this dress ::and she headed for the bedroom.  She half closed the door so she could still talk to him:: perhaps Atlantic City will give us
CatarinaFlynn: more time then, hm? ::she chuckled, only partially teasing as she tossed the dress aside, picking up the nightgown provided for her and groaning as she slid it over her head.  It was a fruitless search yielding no robe:: dammit 
CatarinaFlynn: ::she reappeared in the bedroom doorway, trying to act casual while wearing a deep red nightgown that was sheer on the arms and had a v shaped panel of sheer that went from below her breasts to her navel.  The deep neckline was 
CatarinaFlynn: fetching but it was altogether more sensual than she would have tossed on:: what do you mean what happens there?  They are no less real and relatable than any others who happen to be in a room with us/d
Dash Karp: It she who had gone formal. While she went to change, I drank my whiskey and made sure not to look through the parted door. "More time to ...get to know each other? Miss Flynn, I don't know much about how read these engeries and all
Dash Karp: that, but those energies should be telling you I ain't the sorta fella a girl like you should be mixing up with." I swallowed more whiskey and when she returned wearing that nightgown, I caught myself leering and was not proud of 
Dash Karp: it. "He gave you that to wear? I bet he'll be knockiong on the door any minute now." I tossed back more whiskey and averted my eyes. "Look, what I was getting at, do they talk to you in your head or something? How do ...contact 
Dash Karp: them? I'm just trying to undestand, is all." ()
CatarinaFlynn: a girl like me? ::an amuised tone to her voice, walking over the take her drink as if she were dressed for church:: if Mr. Lorenzo were to show up I assure you, a girl like me would not give him the time of day. ::she took a sip:: 
CatarinaFlynn: and yes, time to get to know one another.  At the very least, we should have a deeper idea of what the other is capable of, no?  ::she tipped a curious glance his way:: the energy does not warn me away, so tell me what makes you a 
CatarinaFlynn: fella the energy should dislike? ::she curled in the corner of the couch, bare feet tucked up:: come, sit. ::she patted the leather:: as to the energy, it is a combination of things.  Generally I am aware of energy the way you might
CatarinaFlynn: be aware of a scent as you enter a room or to how the light looks. In the case of simple energy there are no voices, that is only a spirit generally and then I hear them most often as a thought or idea, though if they are strong 
CatarinaFlynn: enough or I am agitated, they can be heard orally or even seen on rare occasions/d
Dash Karp: "Seen and heard?" I shook my head at that. "No, no. Ghosts should be kept in their crypts and coffins if you ask me. I was about to accept her invitation to sit when I paused and checked myself to make sure I truly did want to 
Dash Karp: sit. I suppose I would be a bit leery for a time. "I am a cad, Cat...err...Miss Flynn. A rogue. A philanderer of the worst kind. Some say I am amoral in my approach to relationships," and in many ways that was true. At least in the 
Dash Karp: traditional sense. I did finally sit then, though not right up against her. "As far as my capabilities, I suppose you could ssay I am a Jack-of-all-Trades. Aviation is my first profession, but working with Applewhite has broadened 
Dash Karp: the scope of my abilities and skills." It was so very hard not to eye her cleavage, or hope for a peek of leg, or something. But I managed quite well and sparingly sipped my whiskey. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she gave him an amused smile:: some of them would prefer that as well, though many are simply lost or stuck here.  They can be wildly helpful ::she shifted as he sat down, not moving toward him though
CatarinaFlynn: the urge was there.  She drank some whiskey, listening:: ah, I see.  Well, I will admit, I am not the sort to act like your lady friend Gladys.  If she is the sort of woman you prefer, I do wish you well in that endeavor ::oh she
CatarinaFlynn: was no innocent angel but she was not trying to catch a man here or to settle one down.::/d
Dash Karp: "Gladys is putting on an act, but for who's benefit I'm not sure. She earned both a medical degree and a law degree and got bored of both. Her current interest is Africa and some story about an ape man she is convinced is true and 
Dash Karp: wants me to help her find him." I set down my whickey and leaned back casually. "Look, she and I have...well lets just say we've been off and on, but she's not settle down and get serious type of gal. Thats why I don't mind her so 
Dash Karp: much. She makes no demands other than the occasional night at the opera and her obsessioon with Africa." Now that I thought about it, I wondered if Gladys believed Lorenzo could somehow aid her in ape man search. That would actually
Dash Karp: be quite acceptable to me. TYhe other odd point about Gladys, which I was not going to mention, was how she encouraged my philandering. "So other than helping you locate ancient relics - which I still say we won't find in Atlantic 
Dash Karp: City - how helpful can these spirits be?" I was trying to keep an open mind, if for no other reason than to keep Cat's spirits up. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she nodded as he spoke about Gladys:: I do hope she is not out of her depth here with these people.  ::If only because he seemed connected to the woman, she wished no ill to fall upon the socialite:: The energy and spirits do help
CatarinaFlynn: in finding objects but they are also inclined to protect me sometimes.  They also will give me information I need from time to time, which can be very helpful.  I cannot command them like
CatarinaFlynn: dogs thought, Respect is cruial/d
Dash Karp: "I see," and it seemed all rather nebulous to me. Even if we did locate this Missile of Eros where we were directed yto, I might still remain unconvinced. "How do they protect you? With warning? Or do they actively intercede?" I 
Dash Karp: wanted to know what she believed. My believing was a long way off...if ever. "So, Miss Flynn, if I can get you out of this situation and guarnatee there will be no more contact with Lorenzo, will you return to your job as a dancer 
Dash Karp: and fortune teller?" ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she was unsure how to answer the first part but then secpond half made her face fall, she looked crestfallen for a moment:: I...hm.  I do not believe that Johnny had no hand in this, but I do not have anywhere
CatarinaFlynn: else to go either.  My familiy, as it were, is scattered to the four winds.  The work family well, it seems my trust there was misplaced.  Arnav mentioned Lorenzo promising him I would do a seance for him, and no one outside of the 
CatarinaFlynn: clients Johnnt throws my way would even know I could do them ::a hand raked through her raven hair:: I am going to have to figure that out I guess ::that fact made her both angry and sad, with a healthy dose of scared::/d


OnlineHost: *** You are in "The IrishCrownAffair". ***
Dash Karp: I stood to remove my jacket because it was annoying me and looked down at her. "Miss Flynn, I am sure the fact that you do seances is no more a secret than the locations of the most exclusive speak easies in Manhattan. Such things 
Dash Karp: do get around you know. And someone like Lorenzo would have a ready list of mediums and fortuine tellers and the like always at hand." I threw the jacket over the back of the couch and sat back down. "But if you don't want to go 
Dash Karp: back to that, then we will need to come up with a plan." What was this we stuff? It really wasn't my responsibility, and yet I felt at least partially responsible for her circumstance at the moment. I was sure between Applewhite and
Dash Karp: myself, we could manage something for her. It would cost money, however, and there was no guarantee she was going to get her cash from Lorenzo. I suppose that would be because of me as well. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she curled her legs in to sit Indian style on the couch, watching his shoulders and back as he stripped off his jacket and catching herself staring.  She ducked her chin and blushed softly but glanced up at him through dark lashes
CatarinaFlynn: when he spoke of plans:: it is a part of me that I cherish, but not so much doing so for cash or for people like these.  I am far too Romnichal to enjoy dancing to other people's tunes ::and it was true, the free spirit had dimmed 
CatarinaFlynn: some over time in the big city, but it was there yet, yearning for a forested glen or a seaside beach but a steady flame inside of her.  The flicker of that wild spirit was in blue eyes at the thought, one she dared not entertain in
CatarinaFlynn: far too long now, of escaping the concrete corridors and fouled air of the city with some grand plan:: why would you help me Dash? ::a soft question, not beligerant, not rude, more touched with an air of genuine open wonder::/d
Dash Karp: She was back to calling me 'Dash'? Well taht was nice, but I wasn't sure if I was gpoing to push it. My shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I guess I feel like I got you into this. Though Lorenzo was coming after you anyway whether I was 
Dash Karp: there or not." I shrugged again and crossed my ankles. "Its just what we do...Applewhite and me." It was true, we often helped people out of jams that sort of got swept up in our business somehow. I suppose thats why I stuck it out 
Dash Karp: with Applewhite. We came from vastly different worlds, but somehow our values were quite similar. "Well, you think bout it...Catarina. You are under no obligation, of course. In fact, I am not even going to try to coerce you into 
Dash Karp: meeting Applewhite at all, or to sell you jewels," which I still had not seen yet. "Wjatever you decide, I am sure I can at least get you started in the direction you want to go." ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::his response brought a steady thoughtful look from the gypsy, she had been told she could be unnerving like that sometimes, but she was rather certain that he was not an easy man to unnerve so she was not overly inclined to be coy
CatarinaFlynn: about the fact that she was considering it, or him:: wait here one moment ::and she slid from the couch gracefully, a decision reached.  Bare feet carried her back into her room, the sound of rustling followed by her return.  If she
CatarinaFlynn: was at all self conscious about the clingy nightdress it sure did not show in the graceful sway of lithe body or the lift of chin.  She re-settled on the couch, close to him this time, legs crossing again as she looked around, 
CatarinaFlynn: lowering her voice:: if you tell me this Applewhite will get this back to its rightful owners, I am incloined to believe you.  If nothing else :she hesitated, owing debts was not something Romnichal enjoyed:: I want you to have it 
CatarinaFlynn: as payment for your...work ::she blushed some, not at all easy to give this away, but she was getting the sense that she was just business to him and she did not want the karmic implications of him risking himself for her without 
CatarinaFlynn: being compensated:: this is the brooch Miss Lorraine gave me.  I have cash too, if you want that as well ::she tugged at her lower lip with teeth, not sure what she would do when they got out of this, but she had nothing else to 
CatarinaFlynn: offer him that he might value.  She pressed the palm sized brooch into his palm, hands soft and warm as she closed his hand around it, not easy given its size::/d
Dash Karp: "The Order of St. Patrick," I breathed. The truth was, I was pretty damn proud of myself that my hunch had paid off where Cat was concerned. It was some darn good detective work, if you asked me, and my ego felt two sizes too big 
Dash Karp: in that moment. But then I shot her a near angry look. "Who said anything about paying me? I told you before, Applewhite would compensate you well. And yes," I nodded emphatically, "he will return to teh Castle of Dublin from where 
Dash Karp: it disappeared." I was experienced enough about such things that just cursory inspection of the item had me believing it was genuine. Of course, Applewhite would have its authenticity officially verified by others. My grey eyes 
Dash Karp: lifted to her again questioningly. "Were you aware there was a badge that was part of this collection, Catarina?" ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::her stomach tightened, a moment of deep sentimentality filling her as she withdrew her hands.  She ducked her head, letting dark hair fall forward as she wiped at her eyes::  you deserve to have something for the danger you are in
CatarinaFlynn: here Dash. ::she lifted her chin some, a trembling smile offered:: I;d offer a kiss but rumor has it you are an awful cad and a philandering rogue ::only partially teasing, as evidenced by the way her gaze dropped to his mouth for a
CatarinaFlynn: moment:: a badge? ::brows furrowed:: like a copper's badge? do you think Miss Lorraine had that too?  I never saw one, but then again I never saw the brooch until she gave it to me either. ::with the General dead, she had no way of 
CatarinaFlynn: knowing the state of his affairs much less where the rest of her own family might be::/d
Dash Karp: The whereabouts of teh diamond badge would currently remain a mystery, though I was sure Applewhite would keep me on the case for as long as it took. I closed my hand on thye diamond star as though I expected prying eyes to be
Dash Karp: about. "Yes, I am a cad and a philandering rogue, but I don't take advantage of women either. *You* will be paid for the jewelry as I firsty said. Or, if you choose, you may keep it. Either way, I am noty looking for payment from 
Dash Karp: you, Catarina." I took her hand then and pressed the diamond star back into her own palm. "You hold on to this until we get to Applewhite. That's an order." I went made it an order? I certainly didn't expect that to go over well with
Dash Karp: the gypsy. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::her eyes widened some at his words, the brooch pressed back into her hands.  An order?  That was....unexpected.  An impish glint rose in blue eyes then and she closed her fingers around the jewel even as she leaned forward, smooth
CatarinaFlynn: as water spilling over a riverstone, she brushed a not so quick kiss to his lips.  Chaste in the lack of tongue but not so much in the warm linger:: yes sir ::a wink before she slid back and eyed him, uterly unsure of his response 
CatarinaFlynn: to her bold move::/d
Dash Karp: That kiss, to my mind, held more than gratitude in its warmth. Of course, I have quite the ego so could have been investing more than there was. At least the order didn't seem to bother her too much. I smiled as she leaned back and 
Dash Karp: my smile might have been less than innocent in my own right. I start to lean forward, but to what end I was unsure. The decision was forestalled by a knock at the door that change my expression to one of confusion. "You better put 
Dash Karp: that thing away," I whispered and rose quickly to go answer the door. I paused with my hand on the knob, giving her a chance to get the diamond star put away. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::when he started to lean forward something low and warm tightened in her belly, an excited little flip flop that created a low growl when the door was suddenly being knocked on.  She exhaled dramatically as he rose instead, a 
CatarinaFlynn: clearing of throat as her tongue flicked over her lower lip.  Wait, put it away? She was not exactly wearing anything with pockets so she rose swiftly, scooting into her room and jamming the brooch under her dress on the bed before 
CatarinaFlynn: runing back to the couch, nodding to him.  She ran hands through her dark hair, then realized that doing so accentuated the line of breasts in the nightgown.  Shit.  
CatarinaFlynn: No time to change so she just acted as if she owned the moment, an imperious tousel of hair and a smile in place as he opened the door::/d
Dash Karp: I opened the door and a tempest in the form of Gladys Rutherford burst in. "Dash!" she stopped short when she saw Cat. "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't realize you had company, darling." She lookd tyo Cat and smiled ina  friendly enough 
Dash Karp: manner. "Its okay, dear. I don't mind if you stay," then Gladys had eyes only for me. "Dash, I just had to speak to you or I would simply bust!" She shook her head. "Oh its simply too queer and strange to explain, but, do you have 
Dash Karp: any idea what Lorenzo wants the Missile of Eros for?" I was blinking and trying to catch up. Gladys could be a whirlwind at times and before I could say anything, she went on. "He believes it will grant him some power over women. He
Dash Karp: wants to use to obtain an immortality elixir from a white priestess in Africa." ()
CatarinaFlynn: :: her gaze swung to the woman who burst into to room, a tightening of her jaw when the woman gave her 'permission' to stay in her own suite::  how...sweet of you. ::Cool tone and she rose to go and get more whiskey, and yes there 
CatarinaFlynn: was an extra degree of sensuality in her stride.  If Gladys wanted to burst in and distract him, well she was woman enough to be competitive about it:: what sort of power does he believe this item will give him that his money and 
CatarinaFlynn: this weird lair do not? ::a sweet smile rose:: after all, that seems enough power to get you here and engaged in his business, hm? ::arms crossed::/d
Dash Karp: Part of me was amused, and part of me felt that Cat still had Gladys all wrong. Then again, Gladys didn't do herself any favors. She returned the smile to Cat in an attempt to be disarming, I was sure. "Gee kid, I know I come off
Dash Karp: strong sometimes, but I'm no threat to you. I promise. I just want to warn Dash here about what I learned." I was still silent, just letting it all play out. I gave a peek down the hallway before closing the door, then leaned 
Dash Karp: against it while Gladys went on. "Well, Dash, since you've been no help at all in getting me to my ape man," she turned to Cat with an aside, "the ape man is a distant cousin, you see," and I rolled my eyes at that. "Anyway, you 
Dash Karp: know I've been trying to hitch my wagon to someone who could help me find him so I met up with Lorenzo. He didn't seem too interested at first, but then of a sudden he comes at me like gangbusters all fired up about helping me out,
Dash Karp: but not before saying how he wanted to get this Missile of Eros. That's where you come in and...oh Dash I am so sorry I got you mixed up in this! I told him you and Applewhite were the best procurers in the business. I don't know how
Dash Karp: she got drug intio this," Gladys looked to Cat again. "I'm sorry, my dear, I truly am. You don't belong mixed up in this business." I was starting to have that 'swept up in events' feeling again. Seems Lorenzo wanted me included all
Dash Karp: along. Now I wondered if he had manipulated things soemhow. "Dash, you can't let Lorenzo have that relic. You just can't! Suppose the legend is true? Suppose a man like Lorenzo finds the elixir?" Now wasn't this just more 
Dash Karp: interesting than ever? ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she blushed a bit when Gladys said that she was no threat but kept her chin up in that stubborn jut still.  She listened to the blond and slid a glan ce to Dash as he closed the door and leaned against it:: so either way, Dash was
CatarinaFlynn: on the agenda for the man, yes? I never saw or heard of you before, but Lorenzo seemed to know more about me than I generally share.  ::she took up her whiskey and crossed to the couch where she knelt, a hip leaning against the arm 
CatarinaFlynn: closest to the pair, taking a swallow:: so tell me, what was with the room before? the cloaks, the engravings? Just how deep are you into this man for Gladys? ::she had some theories of her own but if the woman could shed light on 
CatarinaFlynn: the place they were and what was going on well then Cat was going to push::/d
Dash Karp: Gladys went to the bar to help herself to a drink. "Since neither of you would offer..." as she poured herself a stiff one. "Dash can tell you, I am a bit eccentric in my lifestyle. The typical bored socialite who enjoys pushing the
Dash Karp: moral boundaries," she said with a flourish in her voice. "Mr. Lorenzo fancies himself an emperor in his own little hedonistic empire. He believes," and most women might blush at this point, but not Gladys, "sex is the key to power,
Dash Karp: because the energy of sex breaks down the veil between us and the spirit world." She looked directly to Cat then, "and *you* seem to be quite adept at breaking down that veil, Miss Flynn." Gladys made a show of fanning 
Dash Karp: herself. "Lorenzo has had seances before with other mediums, but none ever set the air on fire like you did." I pursed my lips at all tis talk and was not surprised to hear Gladys speak in a way that lent credence to Cat's
Dash Karp: claims. "The rest of it, I don't really understand. I heard him say something about the red cloaks being worn by the catalysts, but that's all." ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she not only blushed, she went a dizzing shade of pink at the implication that she somehow knowingly raised that sort of energy:: I can promise you Gladys, it is not on purpose.  I rather thought that the sort of energy you speak 
CatarinaFlynn: was simpy more present here and that is why.  ::blue eyes looked to Dash:: catalysts, if he is using the term properly are people who help to channel and shape a specific type of energy during a ritual.  I think I get why Arnav and 
CatarinaFlynn: Magdalena and Gladys would work, but...his inclusion of you....with all due respect Dash, is odd.  ::she took a sip of her own drink and looked intently thoughtful:: a man feeling that sex is power is as old as time itself, question
CatarinaFlynn: becomes what lengths Lorenzo is willing to go to in order to get his hands on what he wants.  ::she licked her lips, a worried look sent Dash's way:: if he has had in other mediums and tonight was significantly more powerful....
CatarinaFlynn: that does not bode well for his letting me waltz back to my old life /d

OnlineHost: *** You are in "The IrishCrownAffair". ***
Dash Karp: "you and Lorenzo were wearing the red cloaks, Catarina, so it seems he fancies himself having some capabilities as well." Which had me wondering if such a thing could be used against him somehow. I leaned against the bar and noticed
Dash Karp: Gladys's eyes darting back and forth between Cat and I. Obviously, she was trying to assess what the relationship was. Perhaps it was strategic, or perhaps just simple female curiosity. With Gladys, it could be either...or both. "So
Dash Karp: Why would my inclusion be odd, Catarina?" ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she swirled her drink some, a nervous tell for sure, glancing down at it:: well, and sure as I mean no ill to you Gladys, but where yourself and the others seem to be very openly...physical.  Dash...you seem far more controlled, 
CatarinaFlynn: more reserved if you will.  If Lorenzo chose participants based on who he thought would raise the most energy, that was an odd choice.  ::something occurred to her then and her cheeks went a bit pink:: unless he assumes to more 
CatarinaFlynn: between us and thought your presence would therefore add to the...rise ::and she took a deep drink from her glass.  Hardly a shy flower, it was the presence of the socialite that spooked her a bit, she did not move in the same 
CatarinaFlynn: circles as the blond certainly::/d
Dash Karp: I could only shrug at Cat's assessment and chose modesty for the moment. The poor kid had no idea about me! Lorenzo wasn't the only hedonist. But Gladys was a bit more open. "Oh, hunny," she grinned to Cat, "you have no idea! I can 
Dash Karp: be very, very open physically," then Gladys turned to me her bedroom eyes. "Isn't that true, Dash? Darling? Loverboy?" She laughed then and I knew she was enjoying herself by laying my cards on the table for me. "You are not wrong, 
Dash Karp: however, Catarina - may I call you Catarina? We're all friends here, right? But as I was saying about our adorbale knight in shining armor here, Dash can be very controlled. As well as controlling. I find it rather endearing, don't 
Dash Karp: you?" I coughed and frowned and maybe smirked a bit. "Thats enough, Gladys. Now do you think Lorenzo is really going to let me take Cat to Atlantic unsupervised?" She didn't even take time to consider and just flopped a dismissive 
Dash Karp: hand. "Oh I am sure of it, darling! He wants that stone cock..." she shut her mouth and covered a moment. "I'm so sorry! That was so crude of me!" She shook her head and frowned at herself. Well he wants it quite badly and believes 
Dash Karp: you will get it for him. But maybe you should never find that thing Dash. The very idea of such a thing! Suppose its true, like his seance came true?" ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she looked over at the woman, though when she spoke up about Dash her blue gaze shifted to him with a small smirk:: intriguing, and so noted to be certain ::her smile flashed but as Gladys continued she furrowed her
CatarinaFlynn: brows some, drinking a long slow sip of whiskey:: no need to apologize ::for the cock reference.  Catarina was a country girl, sure, but she was from a people and region where the pleasures of the flesh were in no way taboo:: she 
CatarinaFlynn: has a good point Dash, if we do find it....I do not relish handing something like that over to a man like him ::she nibbled her lower lip softly::/d
Dash Karp: I sort of rolled my eyes at the women and their concern of an old phallic symbol from Greek mythology. "I'll worry about the great Missile." I went for the cigarette case at that point and lit one up. "What about you, Gladys? Can 
Dash Karp: you get yourself away from here if you want?" She reached for my face and squeezed my cheeks while looking at Cat. "I told you! He's adorable!" Then she went on her tiptoes to kiss me quickly and affectionately on the lips while 
Dash Karp: patting my chest. "Now, now, darling, you needn't worry about me. I come from such excellent stock, you know. Besides, I am hardly done with this game. Now if you will both excuse me, I am supposed to play...ummm...play cards with 
Dash Karp: Magdelena and Arny," and there were those bedroom eyes again. "If you weren't busy being protective, Dash, I would invite you too," but she didn't even look back with those last words and just left the room. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she frowned harder as Gladys kissed him, but averted her eyes and threw back the rest of her whiskey.  The question of whather the woman could leave if she wanted was answered in such a way as to assure Cat that GLadys was a 
CatarinaFlynn: willing participant here, not some victim.  Safe to say she was sure no one had tied up or gagged Gladys, much less held them at gunpoint.  She gave a soft huff that was less that social as the woman left, watching the door close 
CatarinaFlynn: after her and pursing her lips:: she could help us get out of here if she wanted to.  Sounds like she rather enjoys the place.  ::Blue eyes met his directly, chin rising:: I do not trust her, not one wee bit/d
Dash Karp: I scratched an itch behind my ear. It was an itch I always got when trouble was brewing, and this time I believed the trouble was going to come from Cat concerning Gladys. "If I asked her, she would help...if she could." I shook my 
Dash Karp: head and puffed my smoke. "You have Gladys all wrong, Catarina. You can bet your Tarot cards," though I wasn't sure she actually used Tarot cards, "she's staying here because there's a mystery she wants to solve. A regular sleuth 
Dash Karp: she can be at times." And it was true...the woman socialite who could be a doctor or lawyer was also an amateur gumshoe. "But, there is no denying the woman enjoys sex and I get the feeling this place is full of it!" There may have
Dash Karp: been the hint of disdain in my voice, but it was less disdain for sex than it was the use of it for power. Rather, whatever nefarious power Lorenzo sought. ()
CatarinaFlynn: perhaps I do have her wrong Dash, perhaps ::a trace of doubt in her voice as she eased from her knees, the extension of legs drawing her nightgown up her legs some.  She looked thoughtful as her head rested back against the
CatarinaFlynn: couch:: I am more and more convinced that sex drives whatever is going on here, even if I have my doubts that some mystical penis will hand over some extra power to Lorenzo. ::she clinked the ice in her glass, a slow languid play of
CatarinaFlynn: blue eyes over his standing form:: Lorenzo does have some power, it sort of rolls off of him.  Detecting it, I can deflect it, but if he was not trying....well.  He could be a force to reckon with ::she frowned some, a silent wonder
CatarinaFlynn: if the man had the ability to awaken desires that had been fairly well dormant...until she met Dash. ::/d
Dash Karp: Well it was good to know even Cat had doubts about the Missile of Eros. "Sex drives the world, Catarina!" I was rather flippant with that statement and regretted it immediately. "I might have to come back for Gladys," I thought 
Dash Karp: aloud and crushed my cigarette in the ashtray. "But first thing's first," I smiled. "We get to Atlantic City, go through the motions, and get you someplace safe before I return to Lorenzo with the bad news." I needed a drink and 
Dash Karp: took up the glass Gladys left behind. I realized she had barely touched it and if I thought on it, I never once saw the woman enebriated. I was still more than skeptical about what Cat could actually do, but I knew I had to keep her
Dash Karp: feeling confident. The truth was, whether she had some power or not, I did believe she could be helpful...somehow. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she smirked:: I must be waiting on the wrong side of the street then ::in reference to his comment about sex driving the world.  She was, in fact, a highly tactile woman but she was also living in a city where she had to be so
CatarinaFlynn: very careful all the time that aside from Johnny and the occasional night's dalliance, she'd had no serious relationship yet.  When he spoke of coming back to get Gladys her face fell slightly but she nodded:: of course, she is 
CatarinaFlynn: important to you, clearly, it would be best to see her to safety ::Of course her real feeling was closer to letting the blond reap what she was sowing, but she was aware that her thoughts and feelings might be muddled on the matter.
CatarinaFlynn: She resolved to try to push aside whatever burgeoning deelings were growing, she did not want to hurt him nor be hurt, though the annoyance at whether he would have kissed her had Gladys not bumbled in might take longer to settle::/
Dash Karp: Important might be a strong word. "She's a friend," though sometimes more. "She's never hurt anyone," to the best of my knowledge. I took a moment to study Cat hard over the rim of my glass. "I do detect that you do not approve of 
Dash Karp: Miss Rutherford, Catarina. Are you sensing something about her? I've known her for years but...." I sipped my drink then set it down on the bar. My eyes never left Cat even as I lit another cigarette. In fact I gave her the sort of 
Dash Karp: inspection I might give a relic I was recovering to discern its authenticity. "Do you know someything? Did the energy say something to you?" I was not trying to flippant that time. Simply curious. ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::his steady intense gaze made her supremely aware of her own body, though whether he knew that or not was a mystery to her.  She was not an easy woman to discomfit, and yet she squirmed softly, tucking her legs back up to extend 
CatarinaFlynn: beside her lithe form, the gown clinging to her breasts and hips.  She tossed her long hair back and tried for casual:: Part of me would love to tell you that I sense something nefarious from her Dash, but I do not get a clear read
CatarinaFlynn: of anything of that sort.  I do get the sense she is an opportunist, but that in itself is not a bad thing.  ::she slid a glance to him, his gaze capturing her own and holding it, words trailing off as she stared::/d
Dash Karp: Of course I stared back unflinchingly. Not that it was a contest, but I did enjoy staring her. Even though I was focused on her eyes and that brilliance behind them, in the periphery I took in her form; her lines. I could have 
Dash Karp: confirmed for her that Gladys was indeed an opportunist, as was I. Instead, I remained silent a bit longer and finally let my gaze drift from her eyes and down her chest and then followed the line of her leg. Those were dancers legs
Dash Karp: of teh sort that few burlesque dancers had. Most of them were just tits and ass perched atop a pair of decent stems. They moved a bit this way and that, shaking this and gyrating that and so long as the men in the audience had some 
Dash Karp: flesh to view, they were happy. I could see, however, taht Cat's body was a truly unified body. "So why do you think I am hardly affected by all this sexual energy here?" Or did I just hide it better? ()
CatarinaFlynn: ::she heard his question, and was very aware of the play of his gaze over her body.  Indeed, she had none of the va va voom of burlesque, her body was far more sleek and slender, though her breasts and hips were in no way boyish.  
CatarinaFlynn: She considered how to answer that for a long moment, a nervous flip flop of belly before she opted to simply say the first thing that occurred to her, which was sometimes a bad move but it usually led to the truest words:: I think 
CatarinaFlynn: you triage well Dash.  If not for the danger factor, I think you would be more effected by it, or, rather, you would allow yourself to be drawn more into it.  ::she took a sip of her drink:: I believe you when you say you are a cad,
CatarinaFlynn: but I get the very deep sense that you are a man who chooses his partners and pleasures with a degree of self direction, that the sense here of it being expected throws you off and raises your defenses, almost as though you will not
CatarinaFlynn: indulge on principal, not dancing to another man's tune. /d
Dash Karp: Once again I was staring, but this time I am sure I looked like a deer in headlights. She knew me all of two days and she read me perfectly. How did she do that? Whether or not my resistance was my own innate will or not, she was 
Dash Karp: dead on that I didn't like to dance to another man's tune. I might work with Applewhite, but anything I did for him was because I wanted to. Even going to Atlantic City was less for Lorenzo and more for my own reasons. I suppose 
Dash Karp: those reasons were about disproving certain things. First, disprove that ancient relics would be found in a night club. Second, if I do find it, disprove that it had any power. Lastly, disprove that Lorenzo had any mystical power at
Dash Karp: all beyond a fat wallet. "I wonder if he will give me my gun back before we leave." I liked that gun. I had it a long time. Not that I didn't have others, but that was Army issued. "Its late, Catarina. We should get to bed." ()