A Dangerous Tryst (The Inheritance Book 3)

by Danielle Bourdon

  “Maybe. I—oh.” Suddenly she scrambled atop the largest boulder and stretched an arm up toward the shadow.

  “Be careful.” Cole braced a hand low on her spine while Damon took up a position on the other side.

  “There’s a small indent in the rock. A little shelf of sorts. I didn’t see it at first.” Madalina encountered something hard. Something with shape. Her fingers trailed over a snout, faintly raised scales. The piece was cold, solid, heavy for its diminutive size. Her heart hammered in her chest as she grasped and pulled down a dragon. “Cole! I found one.”

  “Excellent. Hand it down and look for another. There should be a letter, too, according to Walcot,” Cole said.

  Madalina carefully set the dragon in Cole’s palm, then sought the shelf again. She grasped a second dragon and pulled it down. That one she handed to Damon. Once more, she felt along the shelf, encountering an envelope that had been sitting beneath the artifacts. “Coming off the rock,” she announced.

  Cole set a hand under her elbow and helped her to the ground. Madalina joined the men as they made a circle, shining their lights on the dragons. Each looked old and plain, with the carving on the scales and feet faded from the passage of time. One dragon had a jeweled green eye; the other was a satiny pink with swirls of white. Like the other dragons, these were small enough to fit in the palm of her hand.

  “He didn’t even put them in a box or wrap them in cloth,” Cole said.

  “I bet it was because he wanted them to touch the rock itself. You know, ‘closer to nature’ and all that,” she said. Madalina glanced from the dragons to the dusty envelope in her hand. She was both anxious and ambivalent to open it. This was the final correspondence with her grandfather, the last letter in a chain that spanned the globe. A part of her hated to be rushed, yet she knew she couldn’t linger.

  “Probably. They’re in good shape. No cracks, no missing talons or teeth,” Cole added.

  “Or eyes,” Brandon said. “It’s hard to believe we’ve gone through all this for something so small and innocuous.”

  “I think the same thing sometimes,” Madalina said to Brandon. Opening the envelope, which had her name in script across the front, she pulled out the letter within and began to read.

  And so we’ve come to the end of the line, dearest Madalina, in this place that so reminded me of the plateau I once shared with my friend in Tibet. The dragons (the Earth Dragon and the Celestial Dragon) were safe here in their niche, although I admit that if I’d had more time, I would have led you to a few more places that are special in my heart. Africa, France, Norway. It took some doing to arrange the stops you’ve been to along the way, thus, these two dragons required less work to find.

  Still, I hope you find the beauty in Nepal as I did and enjoyed the trek to the mountain. It’s magical here, and I spent considerable time meditating on the small plateau just outside the niche you found this letter in.

  I can feel feebleness creeping in as I write this and know it will not be long before I leave this world. It pleases me to have shared some of me with you before I go, the Walcot you never knew growing up.

  You love the boutique so, and I am proud of all you’ve accomplished, but if I may be brash for a moment, Madalina, I would like to say that I think there is more waiting in your life than a sales mistress and business owner. You simply haven’t had a chance to discover it yet. Hire managers to take over the shop and find that other passion I know exists somewhere inside. Let your love for mysteries guide your steps; allow yourself the excitement of travel and discovery. The mere fact that you’re here, reading this, means you crave adventure that you won’t find stuck in a store all day long. It may be presumptuous of me to say, but I know the Madalina whose inquisitiveness matches my own. I would not be happy confined to four square walls, and, I think, neither will you.

  Not now, especially. Not after all this.

  Unfortunately, my dear, the time has come for final good-byes. I have said all I needed to say in these letters to you. I’ve exposed more of myself, of my feelings and life, than I have with anyone except your mother. I intend to spend what’s left of my time with you both, and have but one request upon my death.

  One last sojourn for you to take, if you will.

  I wish my ashes not to sit stale in a vase upon a mantel, but blow freely across the plateau in Tibet where this all began. Your mother has the name of the village. All you need to do is find the east plateau, sprinkle my ashes across the ground, and I will be home.

  It is my final request, my final wish.

  Be well, my dear. I am certain we will meet again and that I will have glorious new vistas and plateaus to introduce you to.

  Your adoring grandfather,

  Walcot Nagel

  Swallowing past the lump in her throat, blinking back tears, Madalina read the note again. She didn’t mind that the men crowded close to read over her shoulder.

  “He sure is a free bird,” Brandon said after a moment.

  “Yes, he is. I didn’t realize how much until discovering all of this,” Madalina said. She knuckled dampness from the corner of her eye, then folded the letter, put it back in the envelope, and pushed it into her pants pocket. There would be time later to reflect, to reminisce, to plan for a return to Tibet.

  “We’ll make sure he gets what he wants,” Cole said, resting a hand on her shoulder. He squeezed, released, then guided her toward the mouth of the cave. “For now, we need to secure the dragons and get going.” Cole pushed the dragon into one of the thigh pockets on his pants, zipped the pocket shut, and after withdrawing a weapon, stepped past the edge of the rock into the open.

  Madalina fell in at Cole’s flank, while Damon and Brandon brought up the rear.

  All they had to do now was make it back to the airstrip without drawing Lance’s attention.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Twilight cut the black of night into streaks of pale gray. Cole signaled for the flashlights to be turned off at the soonest possible moment; coming down the mountain base without any light at all would have been foolish and dangerous—at the same time, the glow was a dead giveaway of their whereabouts. He didn’t like either choice, but necessity forced his hand. If someone fell and broke a leg, an arm, it would throw their plans into chaos.

  It would give Lance too much time to catch up.

  Arriving at the place where they’d abandoned the Jeep, Cole and Damon scouted the area while Madalina and Brandon ducked behind a cluster of low bushes. Brandon was still suffering the aftereffects of being hit on the head, Cole knew, so he spared him the intensity of possible physical confrontation in favor of playing guard. If Lance’s men had somehow gotten loose and tracked them here, Cole wanted the sharpest man available at his side.

  Closing in on the Jeep, Cole checked the ground around the wheels for unfamiliar footprints, and the interior for unwelcome guests. He signaled the all clear to Damon, who jogged back to retrieve Brandon and Madalina. Within minutes everyone was inside the vehicle. Cole turned the Jeep around and headed down the winding road, avoiding as many mud pits as he could. He drove without the benefit of headlights, attempting to keep as low a profile as possible.

  “Hold on. Stop,” Brandon said from the backseat.

  Cole jammed on the brakes, forcing Damon to shoot a hand to the dash to keep from flying forward. He surveyed the rocky, tree-laden terrain on both sides of the road, searching for anything amiss.

  “What?” Cole asked Brandon.

  “I thought I saw something out Madalina’s window. To the right, just past that big tree trunk,” Brandon said.

  Cole heard Brandon remove a gun from its sheath. Whatever Brandon had seen, his brother was taking it seriously. He peered into the gloom, trying to separate shadows. It was still murky enough outside to obscure fine detail. “See anything?” he asked Damon quietly.

  “Not yet,” Damon said. He, too, had a weapon in hand, ready for action.

  “Was it a person, a vehicle on another r
oad, what?” Cole asked Brandon.

  “I’m not sure,” Brandon replied.

  “You sure it wasn’t a deer?” Cole asked.

  “I don’t think so. It would have darted off by now, and we would have seen the movement,” Brandon said.

  Cole glanced in the rearview mirror. He watched Brandon squint past Madalina and had to wonder if the knock on Brandon’s head was still affecting his vision or perception abilities. Normally sharp as a tack, Brandon seemed altered, albeit mildly, from the previous altercation.

  “We’ll give it five minutes. See what turns up.” Cole glanced at Madalina next. She studied the landscape out the window, expression intent, brows drawn together over her eyes. He saw nothing to indicate that she’d seen anything unnerving. Then he turned his attention to the surrounding landscape, on alert for anything.

  Five minutes crept by.

  Nothing. Cole didn’t see any movement in the bushes or near the tree trunks. There were no flickers of light, glints of metal, or moving shadows. Putting the Jeep in gear, he said, “Might have been an animal. We’ll keep going.”

  Rolling tension from his shoulders, Cole navigated the treacherous road with skill and care.

  He didn’t get far before Brandon hissed a warning.

  “Cole! Stop the car!”

  He stomped the brakes, glimpsing Brandon reach across Madalina’s seat, open the door, and push the woman out.

  What the hell? Cole put his trust and faith in Brandon and, after killing the engine, bailed out of the Jeep at the same time Damon did. Brandon hauled Madalina around a tree, past several clumps of prickly bushes, and through a dry, narrow streambed. Cole, teeth clenched, glanced at Damon before following Brandon’s lead. Damon looked unsure and somewhat wary, but didn’t balk at the extreme measures.

  A loud explosion shattered the tranquility, searing leaves off the trees and blowing bark off trunks. Bushes incinerated in seconds. The heat blast knocked Cole off his feet, sending his view of the world into a spin. In brief flashes, he caught Madalina’s startled expression, Brandon’s wince, and Damon’s header into the leaves. Air whooshed from his lungs when he landed flat on his back. The vest blocked some of the pain, but not all. He saw stars for several moments, the gun miraculously still in his hand. The cold deadweight reminded him to be on alert, to shake off the stupor and get his bearings.

  Distant shouts cut through the haze, brought him to his knees. Breath wheezed in and out of his lungs. He’d had the wind knocked out of him. As silently as he could, head buzzing from the blast, he crawled toward Damon and gave his brother a shake at the shoulder. Even while he tried to rouse his sibling, he looked for Brandon and Madalina.

  “Damon. Damon?” he whispered. He was afraid to speak too loudly, whisper too urgently. Whoever was talking might hear.

  Rising out of a groggy stupor, Damon waved Cole on. He was all right. Cole scrambled over the ground, staying low, spotting Brandon and Madalina lying side by side. Both were shifting and squirming, attempting to sit up. Relief overpowered Cole’s fear that one or the other might be dead. He smoothed a hand over Madalina’s forehead, moving a lock of dark hair away from her cheek. Scrapes from random twigs marked her skin, but otherwise, she looked to be in one piece.

  “Got to get moving, shake it off,” he whispered. In periphery he saw Damon duck behind a bush with most of its leaves still intact. Cole helped Madalina into a crouch; Brandon got there on his own after snatching at the gun he’d dropped during the fall.

  “What the hell?” Brandon said, scowling.

  Cole surveyed what he could see of the situation: the blast appeared to have generated from the other side of the Jeep, which had helped shield them from the worst of the concussion. The point had been to stun them, disable their ability to drive or act. Otherwise, the device would have landed on the Jeep. Brandon had glimpsed something in the brush again—a flicker, a shadow, a gleam—and if he had not, the blast would have rendered them incapable of getting away.

  Damon turned from the bush and ran in a crouch toward their position. He relayed the same information Cole had come to on his own.

  “They’re coming up the hill. Fast. Probably Lance’s men, maybe Lance himself. I counted five, but there could be more,” Damon added.

  “They must have seen our flashlights on the mountain. Dammit,” Cole said.

  “What are we going to do?” Madalina asked.

  “What we aren’t going to do is stay here and wait until they find us.” Cole urged the group to follow, taking the lead through the rocky, bushy terrain. He wound through the foliage, using every bit of the landscape to cover their retreat. Already he could hear someone shouting that they weren’t in the vehicle and to fan out over the area.

  Cole circled behind the Jeep fifty yards out, making it to the other side without detection. Lance’s men wouldn’t think they could have gotten far and were searching closer to the vehicle. That would be their downfall, the mistake that allowed Cole and his group to get away.

  Sirens cut through the early morning, faint but clear in the stillness. Growing closer. The authorities would arrive shortly and set up a perimeter of their own, forcing Lance and his men to scatter or have to answer uncomfortable questions.

  It might be an unexpected saving grace.

  Cole moved from one tree to another, then to a broad boulder. Waiting for the others to catch up, he scouted the landscape ahead, displeased with the lack of places to take cover. The trees were thinner here, the boulders smaller. Not quite a clearing, but close. To go around it would take too much time, over rougher terrain, and to go back meant getting too close to Lance’s men.

  “What’s wrong? Why are we waiting?” Madalina asked, her voice just a whisper.

  Just as Cole was about to reply, the nearby snap of a twig brought him to silence. He held up a closed fist to his team, indicating an all-stop.

  Don’t move, don’t speak.

  Unexpectedly, Madalina sneezed.

  She couldn’t help it. Too many trees, needles, bushes, dust. It was the kind of sneeze that came so suddenly that she didn’t have time to try and muffle the sound with her hand. Inwardly cringing, she huddled behind the boulder, behind Cole, terrified that she’d inadvertently given their position away.

  The complete silence that fell over their immediate area brought to mind hunters and the hunted. She’d alerted whoever had been coming up the hill, and now that person had gone into predator mode. Fresh tension and a certain knowing on both sides permeated the air. Each knew the other was there and that only a confrontation would free them.

  She saw Cole glance back to one of the brothers behind her. He ticked his chin in some kind of quiet acknowledgment, tucked away his gun—tucked it away!—and reached forward to pluck a decent-size stone off the ground. Shocked that Cole would trade the gun for the rock, she waited, holding her breath.

  This couldn’t end well. Lance’s men were clearly armed to the teeth.

  Cole sent the stone sailing high, but short. It landed with a thump perhaps ten feet away, just out of sight of the boulder.

  Two seconds after that, Cole rushed around the edge of the rock, disappearing from view. Madalina surged forward, barely suppressing calling his name.

  What was he thinking? He was going to get shot.

  Brandon clamped a hand on her shoulder as sounds of a mad scuffle broke out.

  “Shh. He’s got it,” Brandon said. “Damon’s with him.”

  Forced to kneel in place, she winced at the sounds of punching and a groan. Cole appeared, none the worse for wear, and gestured for her and Brandon to follow.

  Rising to a half crouch, she broke cover from the rock to see Damon securing a man’s hands behind his back. The man was facedown, lip bloody, a goose egg on his temple. Cole’s distraction had worked. So far, it appeared that none of the rest of Lance’s team were in pursuit.

  Streaks of dirt and debris littered Cole’s vest and pants, like he’d rolled around on the ground, but otherw
ise he seemed unhurt. He winked as if to prove that he knew what was on her mind, and to reassure her that he was all right.

  For thirty minutes they traversed a haphazard path through the rugged terrain. Cole halted them three times in the same manner as he had behind the boulder, fist up, until he decided the coast was clear to continue. Madalina heard the sirens cluster behind them at the scene of the blast, centering around the point of attack. She figured it would keep the authorities busy for the time being while they made good their escape. The knowledge that they could encounter Lance or his team at any moment kept the tension high. Madalina imagined Lance and his troop were doing the same thing she and Cole were—trying to get to town without drawing the notice of law enforcement. Except Lance wouldn’t have given up the search for them, not that easily.

  Cole remained steadfast and sure through it all, guiding them with precision through the forest on a parallel course to the road. Madalina decided he was avoiding the road for now because the authorities would be using it—or because Lance and his team would monitor the thoroughfare in the hopes she would surface.

  Fifteen minutes after navigating a curve in the road, Cole began winding their path incrementally toward it. Little by little, he used the cover of trees and bushes to descend until they stood less than eight feet from the road itself.

  When Cole stalled their progress to listen to the sounds of the day, Madalina leaned her hip against a tree and used the brief pause to catch her breath. Coming down the mountain wasn’t as difficult as going up. Birds trilled in the treetops now that the sun had crested the horizon, and in the near distance, she heard the noises of waking humanity. The city was starting to buzz with people, traffic, commerce.