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particular the name meant, but didn't ask. He didn't want to even hint at any
strange ignorance of Englor's history, not to
Elva. She'd been asking a good many questions about him and his work-too many
for Blade's complete peace of mind. He wasn't suspicious of her-not yet-but he
had well-developed instincts against telling anyone more about himself than
was absolutely necessary. Those instincts were now fully alert where
Elva Thompson was concerned.
They had one of the dining rooms at the Duke's Head to themselves and ate
surrounded by dark oak, smoke-tinged red brick, and gleaming copper. The
service was good and the food superb. Cheese souffle, country ham with roast
potatoes and young peas, fresh strawberries with thick clotted cream, a fine
Gallic red wire, and an even finer brandy afterward-it was one of the most
agreeable meals Blade could recall eating in any Dimension. He could not help
feeling that it was rather a pity he had to be on the alert for whatever games
Elva might possibly be playing. A pity or not, it had to be done.
Closing time was approaching. Elva looked into the bottom of her glass, where
a few drops of golden brandy still caught the firelight. She seemed to be
hesitating over something she badly wanted to say.
"Richard."
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He reached for the brandy bottle. "More?"
She shook her head. "I don't think so." More silence. "Richard. Have you
thought about our possibly spending the night here in town?"
"Tonight?"
"Is there a better night?"
"I can't say. Probably not, if-if this is what you want." Blade's own
hesitation was only partly an act.
Elva's question had reminded him of how long he'd been grimly set on doing his
job and of how glad he would be of a chance to put it aside for one night.
"Why do you say that?"
"You know what my job is like, Elva. You know how many of the Independents
have already bought it and how many more are going to. I think I'm about the
last man around Special Operations you ought to let yourself care for."
Elva seemed to be touched by his concern, but also slightly amused. "Perhaps.
But the risk is mine to run, if I want to run it. I won't tell you how to blow
up missile bases if you won't tell me how to run my life. Fair enough?"
Blade knew when he'd met a woman who had made up her mind. He lifted his glass
and emptied it.
"Fair enough. Let's stop and pick up a couple of toothbrushes, then find a
hotel."
The hotel lay with oak trees and gardens all around it, and night birds were
singing when Blade and Elva drove up to the front door. Their room was on the
second floor, with a window that looked out through the oaks and down the
hill, across the countryside to the north. It was dark now, and there was
nothing to see beyond the narrow fringe of light around the hotel itself.
Blade and Elva would not have been paying much attention to the scenery in any
case. They had a time and a place for themselves, where they could stop caring
about the rest of the world for a moment.
A fire crackled and flared on the hearth, sending long shadows dancing across
the room. It was pleasantly warm in the room, although the night outside was
growing chilly.
Elva excused herself briefly, to vanish into the bathroom with their
toothbrushes. Blade kicked off his shoes and hung his coat and tie in the
closet, then sat down in the big armchair. He heard the sound of water running
in the bathroom, then the door opened and Elva came out.
She moved silently across the thick blue rug, because she'd taken off her
shoes and stockings. From subtle changes in the way her body moved, Blade
suspected she'd taken off her bra. He let his mind dwell on the idea for a
moment, and found his throat dry and his breath quickening.
He started to rise as Elva came toward him, but she held out a hand to keep
him in place. She came up to him and with a dancer's grace flowed down onto
his lap. Then she placed one hand on each side of his face and brought her
lips against his in a long kiss. She sucked in her breath as she kissed, as if
she wanted to draw the life out of Blade and take it into herself. Then she
let her breath out again, and it was like a perfumed breeze that blew past
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