Chapter 2
2 p.m., Angel Island
Kymberlee Rayne's feet ached as her toes searched for her shoes, gone missing
within the silken folds of her gown and petticoat. The receiving line had been
torturously long, but finally the end was near. She was amazed that Derek seemed to
know the names of each and every one of the over five hundred guests. She glanced
up at him every now and again... proud to be his wife. She noted how smoothly he
greeted each person. How for the moment he made that person feel as though they
were the most important person in the world to Derek Rayne.
The reception in Angel Island's formal gardens was intended to soothe any
ruffled feathers amongst the Legacy and San Francisco's elite. The mission chapel had
been unable to accommodate large numbers, so only close friends and family had been
invited to the wedding itself.
She leaned over to her sister to whisper, "Cassie, I can't find my shoes."
Cassie whispered back, "When the line ends, I'll straighten your train and find
them. No one will notice."
"I hope not," said Kym. "I have a feeling there be barracuda in this fish pond....
I can't believe I actually met the mayor, the governor, a movie star, and the Duke of
Clarence within ten minutes of one another," she giggled.
"...and wasn't that Irish actor just dreamy?" murmured Cassie. "Do you
remember if he was with someone?"
"Yeah," whispered Kym out the side of her mouth. "You're out of luck... she's
either a model or a Hollywood bimbo."
"Dear," interrupted Derek, touching her elbow. "I'd like to introduce Claus-Ernst van Jevern, the Netherlands' consul in San Francisco, and his wife, Amalia, la
Vicomtesse de Clermont-Ferrand."
The portly, balding man took her hand and bowed over it in an ever so European
manner. "Het is me aangenaam,"
"Enchantez, Madame Rayne,"
said the consul's equally portly consort as she extended her bejewelled fingers. "I had always hoped that Derek would capture a beauty such as you."A few minutes later, Derek leaned toward her to say, much to her surprise, "The end is in sight, Liefje. Tell Cassie to find your shoes for you." Then he turned to greet Archbishop Seguin, who had been delayed by church business. "Muchas gracias," he said, "por una ceremonia perfecta. Me encanta que estan aqui. Espero que nada es serio." Kym couldn't help but smile, his Spanish was as tinged by his Dutch accent as his English was.
The archbishop smiled at Derek's awkward, though fluent, Spanish, thanked him, then turned to Kym. "Felicitaciones, señora," he said, taking her hand. "Espero que tus vidas juntos son felizes."
"Gracias," Kym replied softly, returning his smile with an understanding shrug. She, too, hoped their lives would be happy.
At last it was done, Cassie had found her shoes, collected her train, and shaped it into a bustle so that Kym wouldn't have to carry it all afternoon. It had been Derek's idea to have the dress designed with that in mind. She had shed the lace mantilla, but left the intricate mother-of-pearl comb tucked in place. Its prongs were giving her a headache, but it was her "something old"... having been presented to her husband's great-great-great-aunt, Christina Rayne, by the last Mexican governor of Alta California, a rogue named Manuel Michaeltorena. Derek had told her that the scoundrel had proposed to thirteen-year-old, Christina, even though he had just married his longtime mistress. Fortunately, Christina, gifted with the "Sight" and common sense, had rejected him. She preferred instead to dedicate her life to the Legacy, while her brother committed himself to increasing the Rayne fortune and building a Gothic folly on Angel Island, where Christina ruled as preceptress for more than fifty years.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! If I may have your attention," announced Derek's best man, William Sloan, who had stepped upon the edge of the circular fountain. "I hope everyone has their champagne.... A toast... to the bride and groom!" He turned to face the couple as they descended the flagstone steps. "Kymberlee... Derek... I wish you all the happiness in the world... and as many children as you can tolerate... just so long as my room is always available and free of diapers." Crystal clinked and the guests smiled upon the couple.
As they reached the bottom of the steps, William handed a fluted glass to Derek, who turned toward Kymberlee, and said, "Kymberlee, it is a rarity in this world for someone to find their soul mate, but God granted me that greatest of all gifts when he gave me you." He took a sip of the champagne, then bent to kiss her squarely on the mouth. It was a very long kiss, much to everyone's delight. The applause was long.
* * *
With such a large number of guests, Kym and Derek decided to split their efforts. She would work her way clockwise around the gardens, while he proceeded counterclockwise. Finally, they would meet at the fountain to cut the immense seven tiered cake.
The new Mrs. Rayne smiled as she gazed upon her guests. Her eye fell toward Cassie, whom she could see was chatting with the Irish actor she had earlier admired. Well, flirt might be a more appropriate word. Kym was barely able to restrain her laughter. Cassie simply had to bat her big blue peepers and a man was silly-putty in her hands. The Irishman's companion, however, looked somewhat displeased, to say the least.
Kym's barracuda, a vision in royal blue... royal blue suit, royal blue shirt, royal blue tie... found her immediately. "My dear," he said in a syrupy tone that made Kym cringe. She desperately tried to think of his name. She knew he was a social reporter for some news organization, but, in panic, she couldn't recall which. What would Derek do?
"Hello," she said, "I do hope you are enjoying yourself. We've been blessed with such lovely weather, don't you think?"
"Yes," he replied, primping his yellow rosebud boutonniere, "most fortuitous. You made such a ravishing bride in that simply all too perfect wedding gown... so simple... and yet so je ne sais quoi. May I ask who designed it?"
"My sister, Cassandra Gardner. She has a small boutique in New York."
"I shall be sure to mention that in my column.... But, tell me, did you wear it at the first ceremony?"
Kym was somewhat taken aback. She hadn't expected anyone to know of her first marriage to Derek a few months before. How did he know about that, Kym wondered, trying not to show her surprise. No one knew. Her mind drifted to that evening several months ago... to how uncomfortable she and Derek had been... to the way her father had handed her over with no thoughts for her feelings. An overwhelming pain engulfed her. She remembered her agony and the hammering thought that her true love, her dead love, Bernardo should be standing beside her, not a bluenosed Brahmin like Derek Rayne. Kym took a deep breath, shook herself, and turned back to the barracuda.
"Oh... no," she replied, deciding that a modified truth was the best plan. "Our first ceremony was very spur of the moment... quite sudden. We had planned all along to have this as well," she explained, carefully maintaining a light tone. "My husband's family has customarily married in the mission, and, of course, he wanted to also include the tradition of taking the vows on his family's heirloom sword, which he didn't have in New York. I'm told the sword has been used in this manner for many generations."
"I see," said the reporter, who noticed that Kym was nervously playing with the tiny gold cross at her throat. "A truly fascinating story."
Kym could see suspicion in the man's piggish eyes. She knew she had to satisfy his curiosity before he began to probe. "May I tell you a little secret?" she whispered conspiratorially. "The priest who married us made a mistake. He's licensed to perform marriages in several states, including New York and California. He knew Derek from here and had that on his mind when he conducted the ceremony... so... he said, 'by the power vested in me by the state of California,' rather than saying, 'by the state of New York.' I don't think it made it invalid, but...."
"I see.... It was yet another reason to have a nice big church wedding."
"I have to start spending my husband's money some time," laughed Kym as she saw an opportunity to move on to join the group surrounding Cassie's Irish actor.
* * *
"May I offer my best wishes, Mrs. Rayne," said a woman, elegant in a burgundy brocade cheongsam. She skirted the rose bed to approach Kymberlee, who had paused to sniff a particularly large peachy specimen. "May your marriage be long, untroubled, and very fruitful."
"Why, thank you, Madame...."
"Liu," she offered and extended her hand. "You may call me Emily. I'm a friend of both Derek's and your father's.... I was with the House in Taipei for many years, but now I am Vice-Precept in London. The Ruling Precept and Council wish me to convey their warmest wishes and their great pleasure at your marriage."
"Thank you," Kym said for a second time. She really didn't want to be reminded that in following her own heart, she was also dancing to the Legacy's tune.
"Where do you plan to honeymoon?" asked Madame Liu.
The question pulled Kym from her distraction. "The Luna Foundation has a small retreat near Sedona, Arizona. It'll be hot there this time of year, but I doubt that we'll be going out much."
"You really have captured yourself a handsome, and almost perfect, Snake," said the Vice-Precept.
"Snake?"
"Oh, yes," responded Madame Liu. "In my culture's astrology, which is based on a cycle of twelve years rather than twelve months, Derek was born in the year of the Snake. Snakes like the emptiness of the desert."
"That sounds rather creepy," said Kym, who was not especially fond of any reptile. "...but, do go on. Astrology has always fascinated me. Shall we sneak away to the arbor?" she suggested, leading the way to a grotto covered with magenta bougainvillea. "My feet could use a break... I think bridal slippers were intended to be removed quickly."
When the two women had settled themselves onto a bench beside a small shrine dedicated to La Nuestra Señora de la Soledad, Our Lady of Solitude, Kym said, "So tell me about my husband."
"Let's see,"said her companion, "where to begin?"
"You said he likes the desert?" Kym prompted.
"Yes... he has a taste for dry, wild, open land, and his own home, where he finds the privacy he loves and the safety, harmony, and stability he needs."
"I shall certainly try to give him those," Kym promised.
"The Snake is the charismatic enigma and the deepest thinker of the Chinese cycle. He possesses an inborn wisdom and mysticism, and will always be investigating and learning. He can be psychic or deeply religious, or totally hedonistic, should he develop in the wrong way. I don't think we need to worry about that, do we?" commented Madame Liu.
"Derek can be a little lazy at times. Please...," said Kym, truly becoming interested. Her husband seemed to fit the profile so well.
"Here's something I recall that suits Derek Rayne to a 'T'... as a profession, Snakes tend to perform best as professors, investigators, philosophers, diplomats, clairvoyants... anything requiring the skill of divination. He's all of those, isn't he?"
"Plus some," added Kym. "Can you tell me anything more... in depth? Like... will I ever be able to figure him out?"
"Certainly, if you are that interested."
Kym nodded. Derek was an enigma, and anything she could use to help unravel him was definitely of interest.
"On the good side: ...," Madame Liu continued, "he will be free from prejudice, making judgements based upon his own observations. He dislikes violent disputes and people who lose control of their emotions. He can spend entire nights in intellectual discussions."
Kym smiled, recalling the evenings Derek had spent with her father and the stories William had told her of their days at Oxford. Her father had never let her join in, she remembered with a twinge of loss... he didn't think that "his little girl" should worry herself with philosophy and such.
"People are drawn to him... beneath his polished surface, they sense strength and mystery. As we all know, just by looking at Derek, Snakes can be elegant in dress, manners, and speech, but they almost never indulge in small talk or frivolity. There should never be financial problems," Madame Liu chuckled, "but, not all Snakes are this fortunate. He loves the finer things... good books, music, food, art.... Goodness!... Look around us."
Kym smiled wryly, but said nothing. The subject of money made her uncomfortable. When she was at school, more often than not, money had driven people away from her, rather than drawing them toward her. So many people she would have liked to have had as friends never tried, because they felt that they couldn't keep up on the material level. Little did they know, that it was the material level that she considered inconsequential. Of course, that's money speaking... when one has it, it's unimportant... when one doesn't have it, there is nothing more important.
"On the opposite side of the coin," continued the Chinese woman, "a Snake can be jealous and obstinate to the extreme. In making his decisions, he won't listen to one word anyone says to him... including you, my dear. Be careful of contradicting or criticizing him... Snakes hate being made an example of, being put in the wrong, being used. It brings out their aggression, and they are very bad losers, which doesn't often happen, because they are capable of moving heaven and earth to reach a goal. You don't want one as an enemy, believe me. They will lie when circumstances demand it. In revenge, they will be unrelenting... their hatred can be boundless, cold, and deep. There will be no outburst, just icy hostility. They are the most tenacious of the Chinese signs, and can wait and plot for as long as it takes.
"A word of warning... there will be many a dark secret locked within a Snake's heart... and here's one you should perhaps pass along to William Sloan.... Never try to predict him... it can only fail... a Snake's brain never rests... under a facade of serenity, he will always be on his guard and, when he wishes, he will be evasive and elusive.... Just when you think you've got him, he'll wriggle free, and, perhaps, bite you."
The itch of fear was beginning chafe at Kym's mind... a distant alarm. She knew what Emily was saying was of great portent, but would it ever come into play? Kymberlee laughed to cover her twinge of anxiety. "It fits Derek perfectly... like a glove. Thank you for sharing it with me." She started to rise. It was time to return to her guests.
Madam Liu grasped her wrist. "My dear," she said, "Snakes tend to lead dangerous lives, full of excitement and intrigue. They'll be the one who will crack a dry joke in a crisis and emerge from battle reborn. I only hope for your sake, that Derek was born on a hot summer day."
"Why is that?" asked Kym.
"They live longer, happier lives. A Snake born on a stormy winter's night will be in danger for the whole of his life."
9 p.m., Orly Airport, Paris
Two American businessmen hurried through the crowded airport concourse. Like all the other travelers they glanced over their shoulders at the scurrying police and security officers, but continued calmly on toward their Air France flight to Bahrain.
"I'm sorry, m'sieurs," the pretty ticket agent explained when they reached their gate, "but all flights have been delayed. There will be an inspection made by police with bomb sniffing dogs... luggage will be subject to inspection by hand."
"Has there been another bombing?" asked the older, balding man.
"Oui, monsieur... a tourist hotel near Gare du Nord."
"I'll be damned," said the other. "And I was through there only two weeks ago."
"You may wait in Area B," she added, "until security has cleared the flight for boarding."
"Merci beaucoup," both men said politely.
They carried their luggage over to a group of corner chairs and proceeded to pile their coats and bags on the two extra seats. One pulled a book out from his overloaded briefcase, while the other grabbed a newspaper left behind in the trash.
"Think we'll be okay with the dogs, Sean?" asked the younger, ruddy faced man.
"'Course, Patrick... we've been careful... we took our time," replied the other. "Now I just hope to hell the Algerians keep their bloody part of the bargain... something big in London."
Both buried themselves in their reading material and waited patiently for the police. Finally a gendarme approached, accompanied by a nondescript man in a gray suit. Interpol, they guessed.
"Bonsoir, m'sieurs... may I please see your passports?"
The two men casually handed their IDs over.
"Business, Monsieur 'arris, Monseiur Murphy?" said the gendarme, as he compared each to their passport photo.
"Yes," replied Sean. "Came in from Boston last night, had a meeting here today, now off to Bahrain for yet another. I'll sure be glad when teleconferencing becomes a reality."
"And where did you stay last night?" asked the Interpol man.
"At the Holiday Inn... company's too cheap to put us up at the Ritz," Sean Harris said as the bloodhound passed by, completely ignoring them.
"Which Holiday Inn... Roissy or Rungis?" asked the plain clothes man.
"Roissy," answered Patrick.
"Eh bien," said the gendarme. "You may board. Have a good flight."
"Thank you," the men replied as they put their passports away and collected their belongings. When the two officials were gone, Patrick whispered, "It bloody hell worked."
"I said it would," replied the older man, his Irish accent becoming thicker. "I only hope that once we get to Benghazi we don't have to ride that god-damned bus for two bloody days to get to Al-Kufrah... least they could do is fly us.... 'Course, we could end up sitting on our arses in some snake pit til things cool off a bit."
Sedona, Arizona
"No! Nardo! No!" Kym cried in her sleep. Fear quaked from somewhere deep inside her. Why was this happening again.
"Honey... wake up," said Derek, gently shaking his bride's shoulder. In the early morning light, he could see the terror in her face. He knew that she was again reliving the death of Bernardo Fuentes, her first love.
Kym's eyes shot open. "Oh... Derek... I'm sorry," she said softly as she regained her composure. Pushing herself up, she could feel her face flush with embarrassment. How could she dream about a dead lover on her wedding night?
"It's all right, Liefje. It doesn't bother me that you dream about Bernardo. I still dream about Alicia," he confessed. Although, at her death, Alicia Summers had been engaged to his best friend, Derek had cared deeply for the vivacious, young beauty, as she had for him. However, their mutual sense of honor had never permitted the relationship to progress further than friendship. Still, he frequently relived the horror of the expedition upon which she senselessly lost her life. He knew, that, though the Legacy had absolved him of all guilt, he was not blameless.
"I know," Kym said sadly, "but it was our wedding night... I can't stop thinking about Nardo... it's like I'm haunted."
As she rose, she slipped on her robe and walked over to open the sliding glass door. She stepped out onto the balcony. Inhaling the desert fragrances, Kym looked across the rugged landscape of the Sonoran Desert, dotted with stately saguaro cacti. In the distance the mountains were tinged with the rising sun's orange and red flames. Tears came. Would she ever be free of Nardo's blood, or of the demon that had slain him? To this day the Legacy had no idea what had killed him, or if it was truly gone.
Derek slipped his arm around her waist. With a finger he pulled her chin up and looked deeply into her normally vibrant green eyes, now flooded with tears. "It takes time... sometimes a long time," he said. "Just because we dream of those whom we've lost, it doesn't mean that... when we manage to again find love... we love either person any the less. Our hearts have an immense capacity for love... and those we've lost will be with us... always... reminding us to cherish the time we had with them and that we have with each other now."
| CHAPTER 3 |
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