Lorna Tedder

by Dark Revelations (lit)

  Eric picked up one of the eye-shaped tiles and held it up to the halogen light to get a better look.

  “This incunable,” I continued, “this manuscript isn’t so much about Joan of Arc but an indictment against Simon’s ancestors. Could you imagine if the press got a copy of it? It tells how the Adrianos manipulated popes and fought against a line of strong women that Isabelle and Jeanne were descended from.” I frowned. “That I’m descended from. That Lilah is descended from. That’s why they had to keep it hidden. This manuscript was written in an attempt to get the word out to others of their kind. To pull them together so others would know what the Adrianos of their time had done. To get others to unite with them against the Adriano front and bring them down. Isabelle put the family crests in the margins, but instead of being used to bring together these women, the incunable was used to hunt them down and destroy them.

  “It’s said,” I added, “that Joan of Arc was discovered, alive and well, several years after she was burned at the stake. That a woman came back claiming to be her. Her brothers recognized her as their sister. Everyone who’d fought beside her recognized her as Jeanne. The king denied it. The pope denied. Officially she was declared an impostor. Even fairy tales said that the only remains of Jeanne’s body was the still beating heart they discovered in the ashes. All kinds of legends sprang up. But the best legend of all-and the truth of it all—no one ever knew. It was all buried right here.” I kicked my foot in the direction of the briefcase. “Right here in this manuscript. All of it. That’s why this book is so important to the Adrianos. They don’t want this news to get out.”

  “That and the possibility of using it to track down their enemies.”

  “The woman they’d claimed was an impostor was the real thing, Eric. Well, half of the real thing. The woman who was on the battlefield when Jeanne was injured was the impostor. No one was the wiser and the stunt kept the battle going. Maybe we should take a lesson from her. From Jeanne…and Isabelle.”

  Eric fidgeted with one of the child’s-eye tiles. If his ears rang or he felt sick, he didn’t show it. He walked over to the bits of cell phone on the floor and knelt over the pieces. He ran the tile over the bits. He shook his head and looked up. “I don’t understand. What does Joan of Arc’s twin have to do with you going back to the palazzo and getting yourself killed?”

  “I’m going to make a trade with Simon. My daughter for me. Me and the tiles. And the book. The manuscript will be easy enough to hide, at least for as long as it takes to get my daughter to safety. I won’t hand over the real thing. I’ll hand over impostors.”

  I watched as Eric held the tile a hand’s width from his arm, almost as if he were scanning his whole body with it. He did the same over his chest, his waist, his hips, over the bulge in his trousers. Down each leg. Around his boots.

  “Continue,” he urged. “I’m listening.”

  “The manuscript will be easy enough to provide an impostor for. Newspaper wrapped in a cloth, then placed inside the stereolithographic case and snapped shut. Then put inside the briefcase. They’d have to get through several layers before they’d know if it is or isn’t the manuscript.”

  Eric held the tile over my head and scanned back and forth around my face. I shooed him away.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Checking for bugs. There’s a tracker on one of us. I’m betting it’s you.”

  I stood up and held my arms out to either side so he could hold the tile close to my skin, along the lines of my body. He tested me as thoroughly as an airport security guard with a metal-detecting wand.

  “We won’t be able to duplicate the tiles,” he reminded me. “Not like your mother did. We’d need plaster and gemstones. Several days of time you don’t have.”

  “I don’t intend to duplicate them. I want only to provide an impostor that will slow Simon down and buy me some time.”

  He followed the lines of my velvet dress, then bent to his knees and skimmed the child’s-eye tile over my bare legs and muddy feet. Something about him kneeling in front of me and tilting his chin upward to me gripped my throat. I liked this man. I really liked him.

  I didn’t know much about him—not his favorite color or his shoe size or his mother’s name—but I knew the really important things. Like why he wanted to live when he’d lost everything to live for. Like how he planned to leave his mark on the world. Like how his palm curved against the back of my head when he stroked my hair when he thought I was asleep. I wanted more of those moments. More of him.

  “You’re clear,” he said, rising to his feet.

  I picked up one of the trivets from the night table beside Benny’s bed and held it up to the light. The red Mother Mary glimmered in the halogen beam. “See? Tiles.”

  Eric eyed me doubtfully. “Simon will know the difference.”

  “As long as he doesn’t know the difference immediately. I need the weight and the appearance. Rocks and tile. That will suffice.”

  Eric smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You always have a plan, don’t you, Aubrey de Lune?”

  “You don’t approve.” A statement of fact, not an expectation.

  “I have a plan of my own,” he said, “but let’s hope I don’t need it.”

  He bent over Benny’s bed and skimmed the boy’s shoulder and chest. He moved up closer to the child’s head, and the tiny tile in Eric’s fingertips shimmered.

  I blinked. Had I seen it correctly? “What was that?” The tile had just changed from pink and blue to gray and black, then back to its original color.

  Eric sighed. “I think we just found the other tracking device.” He skimmed Benny’s jawline, and the tile changed hue again. “It’s in his tooth. The tracker must be in one of his fillings.” Eric cursed under his breath. “Josh never told me. I guess it was a safeguard against even me.”

  “The tile…the way it changed.”

  “Radiological electromagnetic energy field. It can detect frequencies. More important, it can amplify communication signals. As long as Benny was in your rental car, the tiles amplified his tracking signal’s location.”

  “But we lost the three men in the BMW yesterday. For a while, at least.”

  “The storm. That was meant to slow us down. We made it here and Benny got separated from the tiles. The signal was too weak then.”

  Yes. Benny had spent the afternoon far from the tiles, playing with the innkeeper’s grandson and the kittens elsewhere in the cluster of old monastic buildings.

  “And then,” I continued for Eric, “Benny went to sleep literally atop the tiles and boosted the transmission of his signal. So they knew exactly where to look for us.”

  Eric and I stared at each other. We both knew what that meant. We needed to find a safe place for the tiles—one as far away from Benny as possible—so we could reach the palazzo before the Adrianos’ men found us again.

  Chapter 15

  Twelve hours later, we were on our way back to the palazzo. Eric drove while I wrung my hands. We’d had a busy morning and afternoon, and even with all the exhaustion, my nerves were raw and inflamed.

  “Pull over.” I felt sick, so sick.

  “We’re almost there,” Eric said.

  “I know. Pull over. I need air and I need it now.”

  He obeyed, steering the Volkswagen sedan we’d borrowed from the innkeeper after the old man had seen the bodies of the three assassins and had understood how important it was to get Benny safely to his father. Benny, headphones glued to his ears, sat quietly in the backseat, legs swinging as he stared out the window, oblivious to the tremors I felt in my stomach.

  Eric had barely stopped the car before I opened the door and tumbled out, gasping for breath. He ran around to the passenger side and knelt in front of me as he helped me to my feet.

  “You don’t have to do this, Aubrey,” he said. “You don’t.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “What if they don’t have your daughter? It may just be a blu
ff.”

  “I can’t risk it.”

  “I can take Benny back. My cover isn’t blown. I’ll say you escaped and I had a choice between you and Benny. Josh will believe me.” He chuckled halfheartedly. “He’ll probably raise my salary. It’ll buy you time to get away and it’ll buy time for me to find out if they really do have your daughter.”

  I shook my head. They’d come after me again. I’d never stop running. Plus, they might really have Lilah, and how could I run away from that? “We’re too close to turn back.”

  “I’ll hide the car. There’s a spot about fifty meters from here. We can walk to the gate from there.” Eric patted the disposable phone in his pocket, one we’d bought several hours before. “Josh is at the palazzo. He’s waiting for me. He’ll protect Benny. Pauline won’t dismiss me again. When I tell Josh what Caleb tried to do to Benny, do you know what’s going to hit the fan?”

  “You’re going to tell Josh you hid Benny in my car?”

  “Of course not. I’ll let Josh think Caleb did that, too. I know where the cameras are on the grounds. They won’t see that I was the one. And Benny will confirm how much unnecessary medication his uncle gave him before carrying him to the tower. Caleb is already in enough trouble with his father. It won’t take anything for Josh to believe me over his brother. Between Caleb and me, I’m the one with the better track record.”

  I braced my hands against my knees and bent forward, sucking in air. I was glad now that we’d changed clothes in Naples and I’d traded my velvet dress for skintight leggings and a bulky red sweater that hid a utility belt underneath. I’d also exchanged my boots for athletic shoes, which were easier on my achy knee. I wished for some tiles to give me supersensitive strength, but they were well hidden, far away. Still, the aftereffects of their energy buzzed in my skin.

  “I have a plan.” Maybe I was just reassuring myself. I did have a plan, but the probability of escaping with Lilah was slim to none. “The thing is to get Lilah out of there and then I’ll do what I can to get myself out.”

  “And if you can’t?”

  “Then…then…” I couldn’t even say it. For the past hour I’d been able to think of nothing but Caleb’s hands on my throat, almost as if I could feel them there already. “You’ve explained to Josh? The plan’s all set?”

  Eric tapped the disposable cell phone on his hip. “I didn’t tell him about Caleb. Not yet. Josh’s phone is probably bugged. But I told him enough. I’m bringing you back for a trade with Simon. You’re willingly bringing Benny back and you’ll trade the artifacts for your daughter.”

  I hesitated to ask. “Did he know what daughter you were talking about?”

  Eric looked away. “He never said anything about a daughter. He was interested only in Benny’s safety. But he agreed to whatever swap you want as long as Benny’s unharmed. The exchange will take place on the towers, out in the open, like you wanted.”

  In the open. Good. I’d be able to see everything, without the likelihood of a sniper hiding in the trees below or on top of a building. No one would be able to get a clear shot at me once I entered the eastern tower. The four watchtowers were situated with crosswalks between them and an X in the center, with stone handrails missing in some places. I was comfortable in midair, more so than anyone else would be. As long as I was up there, I’d be safe. They wouldn’t try anything underhanded up there. They wouldn’t want me to drop anything important.

  I glanced down the narrow road. The shadows were growing longer, but the sun was still bright. “They’ll be watching for us. Too likely a sniper will pick me off when we get out of the car.”

  “That’s why you’re going to carry Benny and I’ll carry the fake artifacts. Josh won’t dare let anyone get a shot at you. No matter how good they are. He won’t take the chance. Not with his son. And not with Caleb calling the shots or the shooters.”

  “Hide the automobile then. We should walk from here. Any closer and they’ll be watching for us.”

  “The walk will be worse on your knee.”

  I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I just have to get through the day. After today, there’ll be no more hanging from threads.” I attempted a smile. “One way or the other.”

  He glanced at Benny in the backseat. The boy didn’t know where he was yet. No sign of excitement at being so close to his home or seeing his mother.

  “Eric? I think we should say goodbye now.”

  Eric frowned and I looked away, focusing my attention on a spot in the grass.

  “Once they see us,” I continued without looking at him, “we won’t want to show any evidence of camaraderie. If Lilah and I are able to get away…” I swallowed. “If I should survive…if I should…survive…” What was I saying? That if I lived, I might actually have a relationship with this man? Even if I survived the next twenty-four hours, how could I have anything with Eric Cabordes?

  He planted one hand on my shoulder and with the other lifted my chin. “If you survive, I will meet you in six weeks. A friend of mine has a vacation home in London. You know him…professionally. His name is Robert Fraser.”

  I jerked my head up at the name of the notorious thief. I hadn’t seen Robert in months, not since he’d appeared out of the blue with Analise Reisner in tow. The night Simon had ordered me to track Analise and retrieve a Madonna statue from her. Before that, I hadn’t seen him in years. I’d heard he was strictly legit now. “You know Robert?”

  “And he knows you. All your identities, too. He and I have been working together for a while now. I’ll have business with the Adriano London office in six weeks. I’ll meet you at Robert’s flat.”

  Something wistful flashed in his eyes. He moved to kiss me. I opened my mouth, but instead he kissed the side of my neck. His tenderness sent shivers through me. I wanted so badly to go back to that monastery bed and lie on his chest again and have him hold me. Wish for all of this to go away. No more worries about Lilah disappearing.

  “That’s your plan?” I whispered. I sniffed. The last thing I needed was a teary goodbye, but my eyes burned and my throat lumped up. How unfair to have this promise of the kind of life I wanted, the kind of man I wanted, like a beautiful mirage calling to me, and to be faced with Simon…Caleb…the likelihood that in a few days I’d be too brain-damaged to care or to recognize Lilah’s name.

  “No.” He kissed the other side of my neck. “That’s not my plan.” He brushed his lips across mine but didn’t stop for a kiss. Instead he pressed his lips against my forehead and held them there. He pulled my body in close to his chest, hard against him as he whispered in my ear.

  “Don’t worry, Aubrey de Lune. I won’t let you suffer. If Caleb gets his hands on you—” his voice caught “—the only way I’ll be able to save you will be to put a bullet in your brain as quickly as possible. I’m an excellent shot.”

  He stroked my hair and kissed the skin of my neck passionately. “Don’t worry,” he moaned. “I’ll make it quick.”

  So this is what it’s like to walk before a firing squad, I thought an hour later as we approached the palazzo gates and the security guards opened them for us without a word.

  I didn’t need a red silk scarf, either for a blindfold or to tuck into my neckline over my heart for a better mark. I wore a bright red sweater they couldn’t possibly miss, but it was part of my escape plan. They’d be looking for me in red. If I couldn’t escape—and I had serious doubts—then I’d need to buy time for Lilah to find the boat and get away. Better to call attention to myself than her, and I would gladly sacrifice myself for my daughter, just as I had for years sacrificed my desire to see her again because I’d wanted to keep her safe.

  On the other hand, a firing squad would have been preferable over being given to Caleb for disposal if I failed. No doubt I’d spend my last hours bound or drugged and violated in every way imaginable. Caleb was a gifted enough lover to use my body against me. I couldn’t imagine a worse death than being brought to orgasm by a man I hated while he choked
the air out of me again and again. He’d wake me every time and remind me how I’d eventually suffer brain damage and how he’d keep my body alive for a few days after my mind was gone.

  I understood now why some informants carried cyanide pills or shot themselves through the temple. There are things worse than death.

  I thought I’d wanted to have sex with Eric. Just sex. Exuberant, crazy, wild, passionate, hot, make-me-feel-alive-one-last-time sex. A coupling with no strings and with no thoughts of anything permanent.

  I hadn’t gotten what I’d wanted.

  Instead Eric had given me something I barely remembered experiencing with any man. He’d given me exactly what I really needed and hadn’t even realized I wanted.

  Tenderness.

  I clutched Benny to me as I limped up the hill to the palazzo and the towers. The buildings gleamed in the sunshine. Scaffolding crawled up the side of the eastern watchtower, the place I’d named as mine in the upcoming exchange.

  Benny laid his head on my shoulder. I kissed his cheek and told him everything would be okay. I wasn’t so sure. Maybe he’d at least remember me when he was all grown up and the newest Duke of the Adriano family.

  Eric walked behind, pointing his revolver at my lower back and hauling a tapestry filled with ceramic trivets—small tiles, some broken, that were imprinted with a red-inked Mother Mary. The sale had made a street vendor very, very happy. The real artifacts, including the manuscript, were safely hidden in a bathroom in the train station at Pompeii. Either I would retrieve them later or Eric would. The most important thing right now was for Eric to retain his cover. And that meant the gun at my back and the occasional shove forward.

  My knee throbbed with every step. I knew we were being watched. If there’s one thing the Adriano Security team excelled at, it was watching. The sun was still high enough in the sky to light the deeper shades of the manicured gardens leading up to the main house.

  My limp grew more pronounced with each footfall as I retraced my steps along the driveway to the main house, the same path I’d clomped along less than forty-eight hours ago with a package in hand that was indeed the most important artifact of the last millennium.