He smiled at her. “Well, you’re welcome. Enjoy your trip.”
The elevator dinged for seven and she stepped off, Val following.
“So, uh—good night.” She felt like an idiot, but what else was she supposed to say here? Don’t walk me to the door, I’m freaked out enough already? She removed his jacket, handing it back with a small smile.
“Yea, you have a good night as well. Lock that door.” He moved to a door next to the elevator, adjusted the camera on his shoulder and leaned against the doorjamb.
She smiled, gave him a little wave, and turned her back on him, moving down the hall to her own door. She used the card to unlock it, then glanced over her shoulder. He hadn’t moved. She smiled again and shut the door behind her. She wanted so badly to poke her head back out, see if he was still there. But instead, she pressed her ear to the door…and sure enough, she heard the trill of his door being unlocked, and a quiet snick as it closed.
He’d waited to be sure she was inside, and safe.
Somehow his concern was a lot less stifling than Remi’s.
Jami changed into her T-shirt, packed the clothes she’d taken off, washed her face, and climbed into bed. She drifted off feeling satisfied she was doing what she wanted, on her own…and had only checked the lock on the door twice.
6
“YES, EVERYTHING has been arranged. Proceed with the plan. you’re to stay on her, she doesn’t make a move that you don’t report to me.”
He clicked off without waiting for a response. He wasn’t worried about his orders not being followed; everyone knew that Teagan Victors did not believe in second chances. He was worried about not finding the pendant in time.
He tapped out a text to the team he had on the way to Colorado. As soon as he’d found out that one of those Chase sisters was in Greece he’d made sure he would have someone on hand in Whiskey River in case he needed leverage again. It had worked once, with the other sister - apparently, these fools would give up anything to save a friend.
He walked to the window, looking down at Muriel, meditating in the garden. She had earned her money so far. He believed he was days from possessing the pendant. He still needed one more piece of the puzzle. Without a bloodewitch, he couldn’t complete the ritual.
He raised his eyes to the moon, just now showing herself. Eight more days until the autumn equinox.
His only chance.
7
That did not go as Val had planned. Not that he’d planned any of it. Well, not much.
Following a hot girl in LA was creepy. Following a hot girl in Greece was probably equally creepy, but he’d justified it. First, he was staying at the same hotel, and he was heading inside, so it was just a coincidence that he’d gotten there right before she did.
He set aside the fact that he’d taken dozens of photos of her from across the street. He’d done that without even thinking about it, really.
Then he had seen that guy taking pictures of her at dinner. Not actually taking the pictures, but the furtive looks and quick movements with the phone in his hand were enough. He’d been around enough trashy paparazzi to recognize the look.
He yanked a shirt over his wet hair and finished tossing the few things he’d unpacked into his travel duffel. The old, scarred leather bag had been a gift from his mother when he got his first real assignment and had actually needed to travel for it—and they’d paid him to do it! He still remembered how amazing that had felt.
Val had spent the night working. He’d tried to sleep but had only ended up picturing Jami being stalked by a faceless man. Not the man from dinner. But he was sure that didn’t mean anything, just dreams being weird. He’d had that happen before too.
And something was bugging him, he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he kept coming back to her. He pictured her eyes, huge and almond-shaped, tipped up at the corners. A glorious mix of coffee and brandy and caramel. And that got him all distracted, and he lost that ephemeral thread of a thought that he was chasing. Every fucking time. It was driving him nuts.
So, he’d worked on brainstorming his approach to the story. Hadn’t got very far, he needed an angle. A way in for the reader, something to make them care. A run hadn’t helped, though he did get some strange looks from the few people that were also out at four in the morning. Thank God his flight to the island was so damn early, he was frustrated at his lack of progress with the story, irritated at his lack of sleep, and out of ways to fill his time at the hotel.
He paused at the elevator, turning to look down the hall at her door. He could check on her. She’d probably be asleep, he told himself, as he pushed the down button. Besides, she hadn’t really wanted his help, had she? He could see her eyes again as he rode down, and even the crazy hot blonde at the front desk didn’t get that image out of his head.
The taxi driver picked up on his attitude and left him in silence to work, so Val took the opportunity to answer a few emails on his phone. The lawyer for his mother’s estate had reported in to say that everything was progressing smoothly, and he would have all the paperwork ready for Val when he got back to LA. Jesus he was going to miss her.
The lawyer did mention that he would need contact information for her ex-husband, Val’s father. He snorted out loud at the thought of using the word father in connection with him. Val had never even met him. He and his mother had married young, she’d been an actress and stunning. He was a screenwriter who’d had nothing published but had inherited money from his family. He ended up spending the next five years sitting around and steadily becoming an alcoholic, according to his mother, so when she found out she was pregnant, she left him. Apparently, he hadn’t even argued.
He guessed that his mother had kept whatever information she had on him in the safe deposit box where she’d had her will. Val had only stopped by the bank long enough to pick up the will leaving the other paperwork in the box without digging through it. He’d been on his way out of town and was stressed about trying to keep his job. He told the lawyer to send him a digital power of attorney for the lock box so he could sign it and send it back over. That way, Ace would be able to access the box without having to wait on Val.
The taxi’s arrival at the airport was a welcome distraction from thoughts of his father, and Val tipped the driver a little extra for his silence and plowed through the tourist crowds to the charter section of the airport. This flight would only be an hour long, but the only alternative was going by boat which, while prettier scenery, would have taken about four hours.
He settled himself on the plane and chuckled at the older woman next to him commenting on how tiny the airplane was. He agreed it was small, seating less than 200 people, but he was used to this kind of thing hell, he’d flown in planes that looked like they needed a person to get the propeller going.
The older woman seemed to be traveling with her brother, perhaps a year or two older than she was, and he was clearly used to her nervousness and said about distracting her with questions about their itinerary.
He had not been approved a first-class budget, something that rarely happens in any case and certainly wasn’t going to happen considering how much trouble he was currently in. So, there he sat in coach, knees under his under his chin, when she walked in.
No fucking way.
What were the odds that she’d have been staying at his hotel, and was now booked on the same tiny flight to the same tiny island?
His first instinct was to catch her eye and smile but he realized after the way they’d parted last evening she might not think this was as interesting of a coincidence as he did. Hell, she’d probably think he was stalking her.
Instead, he scrunched down as far as these ridiculous seats would allow and stuck his nose in his phone.
He couldn’t resist though and moved it to the side just far enough to be able to watch her. Her carry-on fit neatly in the compartment above the seat with minimal effort after she declined not one but two offers from guys seated next to her for assistanc
e. She was way up in first class, and the guys on either side of her sure did seem excited to see their seat mate. Before she had seated herself and buckled her seat belt, one of them had started up a conversation and the other, he observed with a nod to his ingenuity, had ordered her a drink. Which she promptly refused as soon as the flight attendant delivered it. He smirked. Really not interested in company, was she?
Something about the way she ducked her head when the flight attendant walked past tripped his memory, and he instantly realized where he recognized her from. Could it be her? He pulled out his phone, searching kidnapped sisters…and yes, there she was. Jami Chase. Holy shit, he did the math—he was five years older than she was. He would have been eleven at the time, so he didn’t remember it happening so much as he remembers reading about it later on. Some reporter would run out of things to write about and then go digging, started following them around, asking how they were handling the trauma so many years later. Huh. No wonder she’d not been surprised that someone would have been taking pictures of her.
He felt a twinge of sympathy for how that must feel, to know that any minute someone might jump on you with questions about the worst thing that had ever happened to you. He was amused to watch her over the next hour as she employed various tricks to keep from having to speak to her neighbors. She kept her AirPods in most of the time, and he found himself wondering whether she was listening to music or a book? He had to admit, if he been seated next to her, he would’ve been bothering her with questions as well. What kind of music did she listen to? Was she a fiction girl? Or were self-help books her thing? Did she listen to them at 2X speed to power through the contents or did she sit back and enjoy them?
He told himself he was only passing the time, getting his mind off the crowded flight. He didn’t need any complications right now, anyway. He needed to find the plane, and the necklace. Write one hell of a story. Save his job. The last thing he needed was a woman distracting him. Certainly not one who was clearly not a one-night stand kind of girl. Nope, he’d stick to his pattern of two dinners, a movie, and a night of great sex, followed by leaving on an assignment.
The whining of the engine announced their arrival before his feet even had a chance to fall asleep, which he was thankful for.
He wanted to stay seated and give Jami an opportunity to get ahead of him so he didn’t freak her out, but nervous ninny next to him was already standing in front of her seat, as much as was possible anyway, indicating that she was in a hurry and didn’t want to wait to get off.
As luck would have it, he managed to avoid her completely while they disembarked and watched her peel off toward the baggage claim, he strode towards the exit of the tiny airport. Another lesson he learned while traveling, never check a bag if you can avoid it.
The wave of heat that hit him as he exited the airport was almost enough to make him stagger backwards. Jesus, it was fucking September.
He was glad he’d be spending a couple of nights on the water; it would be much cooler. Maybe with the water, the views, and the project he could get those amazing eyes out of his mind.
8
Jami frowned maybe she was losing her mind being on the lookout for signs of the creepy guy from last night, but there’d been no sign of him. She did think she’d caught a glimpse of Val though. But that would be too crazy, right? It would be a pretty huge coincidence that they been staying at the same hotel and then ended up on the same island, right? Did she need to worry about him? She turned in circles at the baggage claim area, waiting for her bag. She could’ve sworn she’d just seen him. Oh well, she shrugged, no sign of him now, probably her paranoia. In fact, she could say that about the guy last night. Sure he might’ve been taking pictures, but with beautiful views from that terrace, there were plenty of reasons to be taking pictures.
Maybe Val had been using that as an excuse to hit on her? Well, maybe he would have if she’d given him a chance.
Did she need to chill out? She had never had very much luck dating. Even after her psychologist said that she was ready and should be putting herself out there, Jami had found it difficult. Always feeling as though if she’d managed to explain how she felt about what had happened to her, no one would get it.
She had tried though. She did go out to dinner with a few guys during her first year of college. She’d stayed local to keep things simple, and for an art major, Colorado had a rich history to study and no shortage of stunning landscapes to inspire her.
It was always a combination of the land and the people on it that got her going. She could wander around a place for hours and then go home and paint for two days straight, barely taking breaks to eat and sleep. If she got in the zone, she could feel the history of the place, the emotions of the people who had carved a living, a home, out of granite and Aspen trees and evergreens and raging rivers.
She’s been in her third year when she met Jason. He’d been an artist too, sweet and quiet and kind. Patient and gentle. He never pushed, he never got mad, no matter how many times Jami herself felt guilty for leaving him with only a kiss at the end of the night.
One afternoon, Jami had been walking around Old Colorado City, sketching ideas. Just little vignettes that would bring her back to this place when she was ready to paint. She’d been sitting on a park bench when they walked past her. This wrinkled, little old lady, her years and life and loves carved into her face. She was a little stooped over but the smile on her face was of pure joy. And she was looking up at her husband, Jami just knew they were man and wife. He was walking beside her, holding her hand, and speaking to her. They were walking through the park, holding hands. But they look so content, so at ease with each other, and in that moment, all Jami could feel was devastation at the thought of not ever having that. She didn’t want to be that girl, that girl who’d moon over boys every second of the day and couldn’t talk about anything else. But she had to admit that she wanted a family.
She wanted a man that she could trust without even thinking about it. Someone to raise kids with, build a life with. She’d gone home and gotten in the bath, and drunk half a bottle of wine. She had ended up calling Jason, going on and on about that couple in the park. Worried about her, he’d come straight over. She’d still been in the bath, and while he did his best to be respectful of what he always assumed her wishes were, Jami was having none of it that night. She didn’t remember much, because of the wine, but she knew she’d pretty much convinced him to have sex. And it had been fine. Fine.
They’d broken up three or four months later, over nothing specific. She hadn’t spoken to him in a couple of days, and when she realized it, she also realized she hadn’t missed him. When she brought it up to him the next time they spoke, he’d gone quiet. They said their goodbyes and that had been that. The most boring, uneventful break-up in the history of the world. It would figure that she’d be able to do that boringly too.
She didn’t want boring.
She didn’t want fine.
She wanted mind-blowing, seeing stars, little tweety-birds circling over her head.
Everything.
But, definitely not now. Now she wanted, no—needed—to prove to Remi, David, and Aubrie that she was stronger than they thought. That she didn’t need coddling.
What she didn’t need was a hot guy she would be distracted by, making her nervous and having to think about everything she said—or didn’t say.
Her bag popped out of the rattle trap carousel and she snatched it up. Irritated with herself and tired of thinking about why, she marched over to the only rental car desk available and pulled up the reservation that she had made on her phone. Showing it to the clerk she was greeted with a friendly smile and halting English.
A few signatures and twenty minutes later, she was on the road, the Siri in her phone guiding her to the address she’d entered.
As she left the island’s capital and began to follow the long and winding road along the coastline, Jami rolled down her window to take in the amazing views
.
Look at this. Look what she was doing.
She was on an island on the other side of the world from her little house and her protective dog and her overprotective sister. The ocean to her left smoothed out endlessly in all the colors of seaglass. The palest of greens kissed the white beaches and then deepened into turquoise, emerald and finally sapphire. She imagined pirates, Roman sea vessels, and Spanish galleons, and all the paths they’d taken across that water.
She could do this. She was already doing it. She’d gotten this far. She was fine. She was more than fine.
An hour into her drive, Siri announced an ETA of forty-five minutes. Soon she’d be on a boat, hunting for treasure.
9
According to his notes, he needed to make his way to the northern tip of the island to a little town called Fiskardo. It was the northernmost port on the island and where the boat he’d hired would be docked and waiting for him. He had paid extra to have it pre-stocked with diving equipment and enough supplies to spend two nights on the water.
He picked up a stale sandwich from a kiosk station on his way out of the airport and downed a bottle of water as he rounded up a taxi. He had to pay extra to get someone to drive to the other side of the island, but it would be worth it if he could get some sleep.
After finally working out a deal, Dimitri hit the road, telling him it would take about two hours. Val did manage to doze here and there, and when Dimitri stopped the car an hour into the drive to get gas, Val took the opportunity to get snacks and a few more bottles of water.
Feeling a bit more himself, he settled in the front seat this time and chatted with Dimitri for the last half of the drive. Sharing his snacks and his water, he began asking the twenty-something-year-old about himself. When he indicated that he was OK with having their conversation recorded, Val turned on the voice memo app on his phone.
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