by Dianna Love
This particular panel wasn’t even supposed to exist.
Choosing each word as carefully as one would decide which wire to clip on a bomb, Wayan asked, “Tell me about these families.”
“The General has strong connections to five families, some of whom control much of the world’s wealth. On occasion, these groups play nicely together when cooperation is needed to manipulate a political or financial outcome.”
“We all have associations of significance. Why would the General’s hold importance for me?”
“You and the General have known each other longer than I’ve known the two of you, and you may be convinced that he’s sincere about revealing Orion’s Legacy, but I’m not so sure. I, however, am dedicated to seeing this through. For that reason, I’ve kept an ear to the ground on the Amber Room panel and discovered that one of these families has taken a serious interest in gaining the specific panel we need.”
His eye twitched a tiny bit. Not much of a reaction on anyone else, but on Wayan that was equivalent to an angry outburst. “The German rumored to possess this panel will trade only for the St. Gaudens coins. Those coins are supposed to be unavailable.”
“Right. Don’t you think everything the General told us about what happened to those coins last year was just a bit curious? They were stolen then recovered by the FBI. But with all the General’s resources in his own country, he claimed he couldn’t get his hands on those coins before they were locked away in a vault?”
Wayan pursed his thin lips, thinking.
She pressed her advantage. “The General said he could get his hands on the set of coins once things quieted down, but the set has been split up. Two coins are in a museum in New York, one is on display in Seattle and the rest have supposedly been moved to a new vault. If the General was going to produce them, he would have gotten them before that happened.”
“And you believe the General is negotiating for the panel without the coins?”
“Yes, but he’s not working directly with the German.”
“I see.”
No you don’t, but you will when I get through. “I think the family trying to gain the Amber Room panel needs something from the General, and he’s agreed to make a trade of some sort that involves the panel. It’s a safe bet that one of the world’s power families can come up with something else the German will accept.”
“You have located this German?”
“No,” she admitted. “That’s what makes this even more suspicious. Any lead to him has vanished. I think the General has been working behind our backs, and gaining that artifact might not be his only goal.”
“What commitment has the General made?”
She had Wayan hooked and kept pulling him in. “That I don’t know, yet, but I just have to wonder why he has held this from you, in particular, unless he’s making a deal that would affect your country. The family involved has the ability to influence more than one country economically in a postive, or negative, way.”
“Who is the family?”
“I’ll keep that to myself for now.”
“I could find out myself.”
She’d thought about that and had sealed the information leak to keep it out of Wayan’s hands. “If that were so, you’d have already known this information before now.”
While he digested that, she added, “Once the General gains the panel, he’ll have the German killed. The minute that happens, the General will show up to our next meeting ready to boast of an unexpected opportunity which resulted in his getting his hands on the panel. That means he will control whether we learn about Orion’s Legacy or not.”
Wayan turned that black gaze up at her. “You have shown your value.”
She gave a tilt of her head in acknowledgment, letting him think she appreciated that he finally noticed. Right.
He asked, “What do you want?”
To drive a wedge between you and the General. But that wasn’t the only goal in today’s meeting. She was after whoever had been systematically eliminating the entire Macintosh lineage over a period of six centuries. Her family, though no one knew it.
She’d uncovered a connection between three deceased Macintoshes and Orion’s Legacy, which led her to uncovering Czarion, the secret boy’s club which, at the time, had only two members—Wayan and the General.
And in finding them, she’d unearthed the very real potential for World War III if this Orion’s Legacy wasn’t kept in check.
She was ready to wrap this up. “What do I want? The General has been using the services of the Banker, who has interfered with a pet project of mine.” She’d found the person who killed an uncle in Chatton’s Mactinosh family, a diplomat. The assassin admitted being paid by a man dealing arms to a terrorist, but she’d since found out the Banker had actually paid the arms dealer for that hit. “I want information on the Banker.”
“What makes you think I can provide that?”
“Because I know that you two were behind the failed attack on the Vatican last year, and the Banker was involved.”
Not a blink. Wayan had ice water running through his veins.
She laid it out for him. “Here’s my offer. I need to get inside the Banker’s operations. You have associates who work under the radar, much as I do.” Such as the Triads, and the heads of organized crime syndicates in China. “Have them find a weakness I can exploit and I’ll keep the General from gaining the Amber Room panel, plus I’ll find out if whatever he’s up to will put your country, or its economy, at risk.”
And when she got her fingers into the Banker, he would tell her why he’d ordered her uncle’s death. Step by step, she’d eventually find the person or group who had murdered her mother and her father.
Wayan observed her with the same respect one gave an insect even though he had to look up to do it. “If I provide this information and you are unsuccessful, you will owe me.”
Deals with Wayan never came without a catch and she’d rather owe the devil, but she still said, “Agreed.”
CHAPTER 13
Margaux opened her eyes to find the half moon lower in the sky.
She was leaned against a chest bulging with muscle that two days of starvation hadn’t softened. He had his arm around her, too.
Did Dragan think she needed coddling?
She’d needed the catnap, but he was delusional if he thought she was going to turn soft on him at this point.
He was in no shape to play hero.
“The water’s ready,” Dragan murmured.
She sat up then slid off the boulder to stretch. Shit. Not so fast next time. Her body ached everywhere, the burns on her right hand and forearm stung like a mother, and a deep lash of pain streaked along her arm. How had she let that little prick cut her? She gritted her teeth against the throb and felt the makeshift bandage to see if it still bled. It was damp. She needed stitches, but wasn’t going to get them any time soon.
“Drink.”
Margaux turned in the direction of Dragan’s voice. Waning moonlight dusted across him, but he was so still he’d melded with the boulder. She kept her voice as soft as his. “Did you drink yet?”
“No.”
“What were you waiting on?” She would hurt him if he said ‘ladies first.’
“You to get up so I could use both hands.”
She stepped over and reached for the water, but when she lifted it, she put the side of the plastic bag to his lips. He drank without arguing. She tilted it a little at a time, feeding it to him slowly. When he’d finished half the bag, he lifted a hand to stop her so she turned it to her mouth, greedy for every drop that slid down her parched throat.
She could drink ten of these right now, but so could he.
When she had the bag refilled with a tablet dropped inside, she tucked the bag down inside her shirt, hoping a stick didn’t hit her in the chest and burst it.
She could feel Dragan staring at her and through her. What was bothering him?
He asked, “Are you bl
eeding?”
How had he figured that out? Her arm had been on the other side of where she’d leaned into him. “Why? You got a Band-Aid in your pack?”
“How badly are you hurt?”
“Tattoo nicked my arm with his K-bar. Are we moving or not?”
Dragan took his time getting off the boulder, but he did it under his own power. Good sign, that.
He said, “We have to find somewhere to hide out until we’ve rehydrated. We’ll move along the river unless we hear someone coming. If we can find a place close to it, we rest a few hours, then we move again.”
No point in arguing with him, because Dragan clearly had jungle training. Smart money said to let him call the shots.
Margaux stepped over to him. “Lean on me, Tarzan. We’ll get farther faster.”
When he hesitated, she turned his words on him. “We need each other. Get used to it.”
She was doing her best to accept needing someone else. So could he.
“Fine, Jane.” A big arm looped over her shoulders, but when they started moving, he wasn’t struggling as much as before.
She fell into a rhythm, moving with him. That little bit of sleep and some water had revitalized her belief that they would get out of this alive.
After what they figured was an hour of walking— and another two shared bags of water— sweat rolled down the side of her face for the first time in days. Dragan was right about finding a place to hide out. Otherwise they’d lose all the hydration the water was offering. “What time do you think it is?”
“Got somewhere to be?”
Wiseass. “No. Trying to figure out how soon the sun’ll be up.”
“I’m guessing it’s about two in the morning.”
“Daylight’s around what? Six?”
“Five or six.”
That meant they only had about three or four hours to find a place to hide before daylight.
They took water breaks, but kept hiking along the rocky banks of the river. When a thicket of trees or boulders too tall blocked the way, they had to crawl up a slope and work back down.
An hour later, Dragan called a halt.
Margaux took that opportunity to refill their plastic bag again. She stood up and turned to him with the bag open for the tablet. “You need a break?”
“That’s not why we stopped.” He dropped the tablet in and stored the bottle. “We’ve found our hideout.”
She hadn’t seen anything except more humongous rocks, dirt and water. “Where?”
“Over there.” He pointed past her on the uphill side where a stand of trees grew around boulders that had piled there so long ago vines crisscrossed them. One thick tree had fallen halfway to the ground, stopped by the rocks.
When she squinted, she could see a dark cubbyhole.
That looked like snake central.
If she refused to go, he’d think she was a wimp. Hell, even Indiana Jones hated snakes.
“Ready?” His voice whispered close to her ear.
She turned and knew without asking that he was waiting on her to decide if she could do that. “Neither one of us is petite. Think we’ll fit?”
“Without a doubt.”
Cocky bastard would say that. She nodded. “Let’s go.”
Once they’d made it up the incline, he told her, “Wait here for a minute while I make a set of tracks leading into the water and clear ours when I backtrack.”
She put a hand on his chest. “I’m faster. Why don’t you climb in there and clear a good place to lie down? You know, brush away pebbles and whatever.”
He gave her a long look. One that said he knew exactly what she was doing by sending him into the hideaway first to make sure nothing slithered around. “Fine. You handle the tracks. I’ll check out the sleeping quarters.”
She stomped all over the ground so it would appear that more than one set of boots had walked into the river. While she was there, she rolled up her sleeve and removed the bandage to wash it out in a small eddy where water swirled. Once she’d wrung out her bandage, the idea of running a wet cloth over her upper body was more than she could resist. She took a look around, determined Dragan was too far to see anything, and pulled off her shirt. She dunked her head and threw wet hair back over her shoulders, then gave her arms a good scrubbing.
The knife wound started bleeding again and aching even more, but cleaning it out had to be better than leaving it dirty.
Not a pristine bath, but just that quick wipe down and rinsing her hair refreshed her. She ripped the white undershirt in half, wrapped her arm as best she could and soaked the other half to take back to Dragan.
Halfway back to the hideout, she paused when a dark figure came towards her. “What are you doing down here?”
“What took so long?”
Was he worried? “I was getting a mani-pedi. What do you think I was doing? I washed up a little. It refreshed me. Here’s a wet rag for you.”
“You should have told me so I could watch your back.”
“I watched my back. You want this rag or not?”
He stuck out his hand and she dropped the sopping rag in it. Then he held out his other hand. “Let’s get back up there before something four footed comes along and likes the cave I’ve cleaned out.”
Too tired to argue, she took his hand and let him lead her back to the spot, because to be honest she’d lost sight of which hole it was now that the moon had dropped so low it wasn’t much use for light.
When he stopped in front of the shadowy outline of rocks and a tree, Margaux suggested, “Use that rag. You’ll feel better.”
She wasn’t stalling. Not really, but if he thought she was climbing into that sad excuse for a cave first, he was crazy.
Dragan leaned a hip against one of the boulders and dropped the rag down next to him. He unbuttoned his short-sleeve shirt and let it fall open while he wiped his face and arms, then his chest. There was just enough light brushing his skin for Margaux to see that they’d worked him over good.
And that Dragan was beefcake quality.
Where was a full moon when she wanted to see his skin glisten where he washed?
And what was she doing thinking about skin glistening? Especially his?
Dragan pulled his shirt back together, buttoned it and laid the rag over the rock where it could only be seen from overhead. “Thanks. That does feel better.”
“You’re welcome.” She looked around.
“Let’s unclip our belts. I cleared enough room to stash them near our heads on this end of the cave.”
She didn’t want to give up her weapons, but she couldn’t sleep on her side with all this wrapped around her waist. She compromised by removing her belt, but kept a knife and left her boots on. Something that crawled would end up sleeping in them if she didn’t.
After Dragan bunched their belts and pouches at the head of that hole he was calling a cave, he asked, “How’s your arm?”
She turned back to find him right next to her. “It’s fine.”
His fingers touched her face. The first gentle touch she’d had in so long she closed her eyes, soaking up the way that simple contact soothed her. Every bit of her body hurt, but his fingers were a balm that dulled the ache. She stood like that for a long moment, then he kissed her.
His beard tickled her face. She didn’t like beards. Hadn’t until now. But this was wrong for some reason. She murmured against his lips, “What’re you doing?”
He stopped long enough to say, “It’s called a kiss.” Then his lips were back to learning hers, brushing softly.
She shouldn’t be kissing him. Not this man.
Her good arm didn’t get the memo. She reached up to hook her hand on his shoulder. His hands moved down to wrap her waist and pull her close to him until they were chest to chest. She could feel each breath he took. Each beat of his heart. He felt so solid and warm.
She was tired of fighting and running and always alone.
His hand slid up her back, fingers gently
massaging her muscles.
Her eyes closed. She soaked up his comfort. So nice ...
She blinked and realized she’d fallen asleep against him.
“Ready to check out the accommodations?” he asked in a weary voice.
“So this is the spot, huh?” She pushed away from him and acted as if she hadn’t just crashed in his arms.
“This is it. Let’s get some rest.” His fingers slid down her arm to her hand, giving her a little tug. “You first.”
“No.”
“I checked it out. There’s nothing in there.”
“You just want to be last so you can be between me and any threat. That’s bullshit since I’m in better shape than you.”
He sounded whipped when he sighed. “I know you’re a badass. Do we have to keep battling for who’s the baddest badass? ’Cause I’ll go ahead and forfeit.”
Why did she feel foolish when he put it like that? “I just ... don’t want to be closed in. Okay?”
Would he argue or badger to get what he wanted? Badgering someone usually worked for her.
But he didn’t. Dragan just said, “Okay,” and lowered himself to his knees then rolled into the hole. “I’m in.”
She could do this. Don’t think about being stuffed in a dark closet where things crawled on you while you screamed until you had no voice.
Margaux took a couple deep breaths, expecting him to bark at her to hurry up, but he didn’t. She dropped down on her knees, then to her side and scooted back a little at a time until Dragan’s big arm wrapped around her waist and slid her smoothly up against his chest.
Spooning in the jungle. Scratch that off the bucket list.
When he pulled her to him, her head ended up on his shoulder and his arms closed around her. She realized then that he’d gotten his way after all. He had her tucked deep in the recess and surrounded her. Her stubborn pride wanted to say something, to let him know she didn’t need to be protected.
But for the first time in a long time, she gave in.
