“Any more news?” Dragar asked, the neutrality of his expression telling Dracht that the woman had given him a hard time on the drive over. He arched a brow to see Alexandra with her arm up behind her back.
“No, but I think we should get Evelyn and Rhett on the line as soon as possible. He said they wouldn't believe or trust us,” Dracht said.
“True enough,” Dragar agreed, letting Minna go.
Dracht released Alexandra's arm, slowly. She took a few hasty steps back. The women stood next to each other, different as night and day, glaring at them with open hostility and suspicion.
“How can you expect us to trust anyone with what's happened to us?” Minna demanded. She spoke in dulcet tones and had less aggression in her stature than the other. Alexandra was all spit and fire and rebellion.
Dragar stood on the other side of the women, between them and the door in case either tried to flee.
“How can you expect us to protect you if you won't at least listen to what we have to say?” Dragar countered. “If we were like the others that have abused and tortured you, we wouldn't be standing here trying to have a civil conversation.”
Both women wore their skepticism plainly. Alexandra licked her scabbed, puffy lip.
“What you fail to understand is that two of us have died, you bastards, and we know you're not above trying all these different tactics to find out whatever it is you think we're supposed to know,” Alexandra said, spitting a wad of blood and saliva straight onto the floor.
Dracht suppressed a laugh at the little black haired, blue eyed hellion, and held up a hand to silence any further vehemence.
“Let's get you in touch with Evelyn and then we'll talk. We'll get it all straightened out.”
“Here, I'll cut your binds.” Dragar pulled a blade from his belt with slow precision, letting the women see that he meant them no harm.
Minna hesitated, then offered her wrists up to him.
“Where are we, anyway? This place reminds me of a museum.” Alexandra scowled, smearing her knuckles across her mouth and looked around.
“Don't worry about that right now. You're safe here, that's all you need to know.” Dracht's gut instinct told him that both girls would have a bad reaction to 'Templar Stronghold'.
Christian strode with purpose into the room. Dracht caught the chin kick, come here gesture and excused himself from the trio. He trusted his father, who wore a deceptive mantle of calm, to be able to handle any trouble the women might throw his way.
Instead of jet setting off across the world, Rhett had instead sent Christian to speak with their liaison, Father Valanzano. Peaceable, noble, honorable, Father V, as they sometimes called him in lighter moments, would not steer them wrong. Dracht was curious for the puzzle pieces to start falling into place.
Knowing that voices carried in the expansive room, he clapped Christian on the shoulder and turned him so they could bend their heads together and walk back into the hallway.
“What did Father Valanzano have to say?” he asked Christian.
“We spoke at length and he is certain that no one gave the other Knights orders to kidnap much less torture any women. He was concerned and dismayed at the thought they might be acting on their own will, using the resources available to find and detain them. He was very distraught to learn that two of them have already been killed, with a third possibly if Rhett didn't--”
“No, no, Rhett has the other girl,” Dracht assured him.
Christian looked relieved. “I'm glad he found her before they did, then.”
“What else?”
“Father Valanzano is discreetly changing account passwords and ordering new bank cards so that the funding and other resources will be impossible to access. It should slow them down until we bring every one of them in. For now, he said to have father use the safe here to draw what money we need.” Christian glanced back a moment to the women and Dragar.
“We have three in custody awaiting interrogation,” Dracht said. “I have no doubt that we'll be able to pull the names of everyone else in their eclectic little group from at least one of them.” The men might be Templars, and tough beyond reason, but Dracht and Dragar knew all the ways to break them. They knew weaknesses others did not.
“And you have all the girls—the sisters—now?” Christian asked.
“All the ones that are not dead. At least I think. Listen, head over to the mortuary and make sure no one is tampering with the bodies,” Dracht said. “Have Paulo there keep both bodies of the deceased under lock and key until Rhett gets back and we can figure out what the hell is going on.”
Christian nodded and Dracht clapped him on the shoulder to send him off. They were keeping their youngest brother hopping.
Dracht found Dragar standing adjacent to one of the divans, where Alexandra and Minna sat perched on the edge. Their posture remained stiff and their expressions, uncertain. Whatever his father had said in the time he'd consulted with Christian had at least taken some of the viciousness from their eyes.
“All right. Let's put you in touch with Evelyn.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and pressed speed dial for Rhett.
A daughter of Eve.
In the hotel room at the Venetian, Rhett double checked the locks on the door while his mind worked over the details Evelyn had confessed in the warehouse. It was almost impossible to believe, and yet, he believed her. It made him look at her differently during the ride back to the hotel and again when he stalked into the small but well appointed room where she stood by the window. There were a thousand questions he wanted to ask. She'd been alive, apparently, for centuries. The things she must have seen. Experienced.
When she glanced over, he presented a small smile and came to stand opposite her so they could look out over the beautiful waterways below. Replicating the scene in Venice, the boatmen rowed couples through the turquoise water. Lamps threw whimsical cones of light around the grounds, giving the scene a romantic vibe as dusk settled in.
Bringing a hand up, he rubbed at his shoulder. He needed new bandages and a new shirt. The black one had a damp spot from blood seeping through the gauze. It hurt like a bitch but he wasn't about to complain.
“Feeling a little better now?” he asked. They'd gotten food on their way to the room so they wouldn't have to leave again or have room service come up.
She glanced at him and he studied her eyes. A color of hazel that reminded him of a clear river. The smile that curved her mouth was pretty without being luring and enticing. He was lured and enticed anyway.
“A lot. And relieved,” she replied. “We should take a look at your shoulder.”
Rhett thought there was something beautifully vulnerable about her whether she was throwing vases over banisters or bathed in late afternoon light through a window.
“Don't worry about it. It's just a flesh wound.” It was his standard answer no matter who asked. He set aside the pain to concentrate on the amazing circumstance he currently found himself in. He chuckled at the dry look she gave him. Already she was picking up on his habits.
“It's more than a flesh wound. My aim wasn't that bad.”
“Needs work,” he countered. “Though I'd recommend shooting other people besides me next time.”
His cell phone interrupted the slew of questions he wanted to unleash on her. Fishing it out of his pocket, he answered without looking at the caller ID.
“Nichols.”
“Rhett, can Evelyn have a word with her sisters? We all need to have the air cleared here so we can move forward.”
“Yeah, sure, she's right here. They okay?” he asked.
“Alexandra's a bit banged up but otherwise they're both fine. We have three of the knights involved ready to be interrogated.”
“Good. I want to know what those bastards were up to,” Rhett said.
“You and everyone else.”
Dracht passed off his phone and Rhett did the same to Evelyn. “Your sisters want to speak to you.”
He watched her eyes light up from the solemnity they'd carried after the news of Genevieve. Taking the phone, she leaned against the window and Rhett stepped away to find an extra hand towel in the bathroom to press against his shoulder. While she did that, he called downstairs and ordered a shirt from one of the exclusive shops and had the front desk send up someone with a first aid kit.
After, he listened to Evelyn's one sided conversation to glean what information he could.
One thing he did know. They needed to get to Italy and have a face to face with Father Valanzano. Rhett was sure the Church would be very interested in the women and their incredible story.
“Alex? It's so good to hear your voice,” Evelyn said. She fought back another round of tears, exhausted and overcome with emotion. The last week had been one heck of a roller coaster ride.
“Hey. You all right?” Alex asked, sounding wary.
“Yes. I confessed to one of the men, Alex. His name's Rhett and he was the one who got me away from the others. You need to tell Minna. I finally believe they're telling the truth and that they only want to help us. They're Knights, but not like the ones that have been hunting us all this time.” It had taken an extraordinary amount of convincing to change her mind.
“That's asking a lot, Ev.”
“I know, but you're going to have to trust me, too. Not just them.”
“Where are you?”
“In Vegas.”
“Vegas? No, no, doc, you don't need to fuss over me,” Alex said, apparently speaking to someone trying to tend her wounds.
Evelyn wondered how badly she was hurt. If she was talking and asserting herself like she was, then she was doing well enough. Their innate ability to heal would fix anything else that was wrong.
“Yes. It's a long story that I'll explain later. Where are you and how's Minna?” Evelyn asked.
“Min's right here and she's fine. I'm fine, too, don't worry. Just a few scratches and a busted lip.”
Alexandra's propensity to downplay most situations gave Evelyn a clearer fix on how much or how little her sister was actually injured.
“Good, I'm glad you're both safe. You need to stay with Christian, Dracht and Dragar. I've met them all and they've been trying to help us this whole time.”
“I dunno about that, Ev, I mean--”
“Alex, this isn't the time to argue. Really. You and I both know that if they were the others, we'd all be in a lot worse shape right now. They're letting us talk, and hopefully soon we'll all be together again.” Evelyn couldn't wait to see them. The loss of Galiana and Genevieve exacerbated her desire to be within touching distance of her sisters.
“I know, I know. It's just hard to trust them when I know what they are.”
“It was for me, too. We'll figure out what to do with their help. We all knew that at some point or another, we were going to have to do something different than we are now anyway. It's been harder and harder to keep ahead of them with the way the world is.”
“Yeah, that's true enough. You hear about Gen?” Alex's voice dropped lower.
Evelyn took a steadying breath. “Yes. Rhett's offered to help with that, too. So that Galiana and Genevieve can both have a proper burial. You know what would happen otherwise.”
“Nah, we can't let them be cremated. What all did ya tell them, Ev?”
“I told Rhett the basics. He knows what we are and where we are from.”
Alex was quiet for a long minute. “You didn't give directions or anything, did you?”
“No.” She knew her sister wanted to know if she'd made a map to Eden. One of the things the other Templars had wanted so badly.
“Did he ask ya to?”
“No. He was pretty surprised when I told him,” Evelyn said.
“So you think we're safe tellin' these guys here, whatever their names are--”
“Dracht, Christian and Dragar.”
“...you think we're safe tellin' them everything?”
“I think we have to,” Evelyn said. “Maybe when we're all together we can sit down and talk. It's probably not the best idea to say too much over the phone, even though I think this is a secure line.”
“All right then. Hurry up and get your butt back here. We have two funerals to arrange.”
“Love you,” Evelyn said before Alex could hang up.
“You too, Ev. See you soon.”
Closing the line, she turned the sleek cell phone in her hands and glanced out the window again. Vegas bustled below, cars and people going to and fro like busy ants.
“So what'd they say?” Rhett asked.
Evelyn turned to find him stuffing a folded towel up under his shirt. The shoulder was wet with fresh blood. She frowned. “That we should go back as soon as possible. We'd like your help to get our sisters buried and really, you need to see a doctor about that wound.”
“It's nothing.”
“Don't tell me it's nothing,” she muttered. Crossing to where he stood near the heavy dresser, she brushed his hands away and yanked his shirt up.
“Are you always this pushy?”
“Oh, be quiet.” Rhett's mock complaint drew an impossible smile from her when she didn't think she'd be able to smile for a very long time. “You need new bandages. I can make a trip to the little store they have downstairs--”
“I already called down. They're bringing up a new shirt and a first aid kit. I don't think it's wise to leave the room until we have to. We still don't know how many are left in their group, where they are, or what else they have planned.”
“Yes, and if you bleed out, you won't be much help if they show up and there's more of them than there are of us,” she pointed out.
“Such faith in my ability,” he said with a droll tone. “It'll get me by until we get on the plane.”
“Then everyone will see--”
“We're not going back on a commercial flight. The private jet I took out here is still at McCarran and as soon as we pack up your things here, we'll be on our way. Dracht said they've got three Knights in custody that they're going to question. By the time we get back, we should have a much better fix on everything.”
“I'll be so relieved when this is all over,” she admitted with a small smile. “It's strange to trust someone who isn't one of my sisters with the secret, but oddly soothing at the same time.”
“I apologize in advance for all the questions I'm going to throw at you on the plane.”
Evelyn laughed.
Chapter Eleven
“You can watch from here but don't touch the glass. They know this is a viewing room, though I don't want them to know anyone else is observing the session. If you get uncomfortable about something, you can leave by that door.” Dracht spoke to Alexandra—cleaned up after she relented to the doctor seeing her—and Minna near a two way window. The Templar stronghold had this one and another interrogation room down in the basement for less 'clean' question and answer sessions.
The two women, to his surprise, had both been anxious to hear what the Knight had to say. After receiving a nod from each, Dracht stepped through a door way and into the room. Bare of anything but a chair, a single overhead light, and a monochrome gray color scheme, it centered the focus on the Knight slouched and scowling on the seat. He had been restrained around the ankles and wrists.
Saul, in his estimation, was the weakest of the three they'd captured in the house. He was the only one not injured as well, which was either a good thing or a bad thing depending on how stubborn the man would prove to be. He'd known the Templar all his life, as he had all the others, and kept his personal feelings out of it while he and Saul exchanged glances. Brown haired, brown eyed, with a savage scar decorating his cheek, the man had a rugged appearance overlaid with copious amounts of perpetual sarcasm that tended to wear on his nerves.
Brethren or not, Dracht had never been close to Saul.
“Let me just say up front, to spare us both a lot of time and effort, that you're not leaving this room, or drinki
ng or eating, until you tell me what I want to know,” Dracht said. He knew his own reputation preceded him here; he was known for following through on his word always. There would be no deviation, nothing to spare Saul from this moment forward until Dracht had what he wanted.
He stood several feet in front of Saul's chair, spreading his feet apart for casual balance, and crossed his arms over his chest. As if he thought he was in for a long wait. To his surprise, Saul cocked his chin up and made a derogatory gesture with his hands, wrists straining the rope.
“Then get on with asking what you want to know,” Saul said.
Dracht had expected him to at least put up a fight for a day or two.
“Let's start from the beginning. How many of you are there involved in the pursuit of these women?”
“Twelve.”
“Why? What drove you to break rank and torture, then murder two of them?” Dracht moved little, watching Saul's face for signs of deceit.
Saul laughed, a rumbling sound not unlike an engine sputtering to life. “Because we have carried a secret for thousands of years that the rest of you know nothing about, Dracht. A secret so sacred that it could not be trusted with the entire Templar group.”
“The one that has to do with the marks on their wrists?” Dracht asked drolly, catching Saul off guard. The Knight frowned.
“How did you know...oh, the women broke and told you, didn't they? I suppose they spouted some frivolous lie that you and your brothers all bought like the saps that you are. Always falling for a pretty face, eh, Dracht?” Saul snorted a caustic laugh.
“I would quit worrying about the women, Saul, and worry more about saving your own ass. It's not expendable.” Dracht laid his threats down without boast or arrogance.
Saul leaned forward with a snarl. “They are the ultimate evil, set loose upon the world at the beginning of time. Do you even know about the mark of the serpent, hm? Have you never heard the tales? Check their wrists, Dracht, and you will find a snakebite on each and every sinner's skin.”
Sin and Sacrifice Page 18
