by Suzanne Cass
Suddenly, it hit her. The only scenario she could think of that would make Wyatt act like this was if someone had found them. Tracked them through the wilderness. The knot of fear in her belly tightened into something almost alive as it climbed its way up her throat. This was the stuff of nightmares.
“Hold on to the back of my bag, so you don’t get lost in the dark,” he whispered into her ear. “No flashlights,” he warned.
She did as she was told, and soon, they melted into the darkness of the surrounding forest. Her legs were wobbly with adrenaline as she tried to keep her ragged breathing under control, but she maintained her death grip on Wyatt’s bag. A couple of times, Wyatt stopped, and they stood in the silence, listening. When he was satisfied he heard nothing, they went on. All she could hear was the rapid thumping of her heartbeat in her ears.
They were heading to the right of their camp, going slightly downhill. Even in the pitch dark, Wyatt was taking great pains to place his feet carefully. Stella understood he was trying not to displace the snow, making sure each footfall was securely placed. It felt like they were traveling at a snail’s pace and the blood hammering thorough Stella’s veins was urging her to go faster. But Wyatt must have a reason for his stealth, so she took a couple of deep breaths and tried to copy his movements as best she could. The weight of Tony’s backpack hampered her, but she didn’t complain.
Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the dark, like they had the night before last, on the forced march away from Levi’s house. Enough starlight filtered through the pine needles for her to make out the denser shapes of tree trunks, as well as be able to avoid getting smacked in the face by low-hanging branches. The moon would rise at some stage. Last night, it’d peaked over the ridgeline just as she was crawling into her tent. Right now, she had no idea of the time. It could be nine o’clock, or it could be well after midnight, for all she knew.
An image of her mother’s disapproving face appeared in Stella’s mind. What would she think if she saw her daughter now? Probably the first words out of her mouth would be, I told you so. And for once, she might be right. For once, Stella wished she’d heeded her mother’s words, and she could be safely tucked up in her bed in the apartment in Lyon, instead of fleeing a band of killers in the middle of the night. Stella almost wished for Armand’s steadying presence. But then she remembered, he’d most likely frown and look down his nose at her, using that disparaging tone to tell her she should stick to what she knew.
She was much better off with Wyatt’s strong, quiet leadership.
They kept going, slowly but surely, for around half an hour, by Stella’s reckoning. Finally, Wyatt came to a halt next to a fallen log. He listened for at least a minute, but then he peeled off his backpack and turned to help her do the same. Stella sat gratefully on the log. Her legs had been stiff and sore from their climb yesterday, and now they were weak and shaky. She felt a little lightheaded, and her mouth was as dry as a chip.
“We need to stay quiet,” he whispered. “But I don’t think we’ve been followed.” He rummaged around in a side pocket of his backpack, handing her a bottle of water. “This is our only one, be careful with it. I didn’t have time to grab any more.”
Stella wondered at his forethought even to pick up this one, which’d been sitting by the fire, the snow slowly melting inside.
“What’s going on? Who’s following us?” she whispered back, holding onto the bottle, but not drinking from it yet.
He sat beside her, but his head swiveled from side to side as he constantly checked their surroundings. She kept her ears primed, but could hear nothing, except the soft sigh of the wind rustling the branches higher up and a bird calling in a low, misery-filled voice. An owl, perhaps?
“I heard something, a noise. You were fast asleep. I wasn’t sure what it was, so I got up to investigate. When I got outside, Tony’s bed was empty.”
Stella drew in a sharp breath, and he nodded in agreement. “I have to admit, I thought the worst of the little prick, too. I thought he might’ve abandoned us, not that would’ve been such a bad thing. I decided it was more likely he’d got up to take a leak.”
“Then what?” Stella urged when he stopped talking and stared out through the tree trunks, as if contemplating some deep, inner notion.
“I heard the same noise again, the one that woke me in the first place, and followed the sound uphill, away from camp. I thought it might be a fox or a wolf hunting a rabbit, but I noticed some marks in the snow, like something had been dragged up the hill. Then I saw…” Wyatt hesitated, a catch in his voice.
Stella held her breath.
“Tony is dead,” Wyatt said bluntly. “I saw him, his hands and feet were tied together. He was helpless, and the guy just…” Again, Wyatt stopped talking.
“What guy? Are you sure?” What did he mean, the guy? Was there just one of them? Stella wondered how much he’d been able to see in the dark. What if Tony were still alive? Should they go back for him?
“The guy had a big knife, and he slit his throat, like he was butchering a pig.”
Stella covered her mouth to stop herself from crying out. Oh, no. What a terrible thing to happen. Even though she hadn’t liked Tony, she didn’t wish death on anyone. Especially not a violent, abhorrent death like this one.
“After I saw that, I didn’t stay any longer. I hightailed it back to the camp to get you. I don’t know if the other guy heard me, but Tony was making a horrible, gurgling noise, so maybe that covered the sound of my retreat.”
Oh, God, Stella thought she might be sick. Her throat closed up, and she brought her hands to her mouth. This wasn't real; this couldn’t be real.
Wyatt’s head stopped its constant swiveling, and he turned his dark gaze towards her. “I’m so sorry, Stella. I’m sorry you had to hear that, and I’m sorry you have to go through all of this.” He put a protective arm around her shoulders. She leaned against his solid chest, drawing in his strength.
“Do you think that guy was alone? Will he follow us?” She asked. Were they in danger too? If it was Dmytro’s hitman they’d been talking about, then wasn’t he only after Tony? Perhaps now, if he really had killed Tony, he’d leave them alone. Cold broke through the thick layer of her coat. She shivered, suddenly feeling frozen to the marrow of her bones.
“I only saw one man. I’m pretty sure he’s alone,” Wyatt assured her. “But whether he follows us, or not, well, that depends.”
“On what?” Stella asked. Why was he being so cryptic?
Instead of answering her, he bent down and picked up Tony’s backpack. Unzipping a small, side pocket, he dug his fingers into the cavity. To her horror, he gripped a little black bag, and she gave a soft groan.
“It depends on whether or not he thinks we have the diamonds,” Wyatt said.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WYATT SLIPPED THE little black bag back into the compartment. “Come on, we need to get moving.” He pulled Stella in for one last embrace, and then let her go. She’d been shivering almost uncontrollably, and he’d held her until her trembling had subsided. She hadn’t cried, for which he was forever grateful. And again, he found himself surprised at her fortitude. She was handling this better than most women. Perhaps Cat might’ve been more capable, but she was the strongest woman he knew.
Images of their lovemaking flashed through his mind, but he pushed them away
Whoever this guy was that’d been tracking them, he seemed to have some skills when it came to surviving in the wilderness. And he was also clearly fit and strong to have caught up to them so quickly. They would’ve had at least half a day’s head start, so this man had walked through the night and all today. Could it be the feared Anton Babich that Tony mentioned?
The only possible way he could’ve found them was when Tony checked his phone last night. There were numerous trails leading up this mountain, but there’d been no snowfall recently to cover their tracks. So, if this guy was a half-decent outdoorsman, he wouldn’t have found it hard
to follow their trail, once he picked it up. And when Tony studied his phone again at lunchtime today, that could’ve cemented in the hunter’s mind that he was going in the right direction. If only Wyatt had listened to his instincts, chosen another path, or taken off across-country, they might have been able to avoid this killer.
Standing, he pulled Stella to her feet. The guy would find it hard to track them in the dark, but it wouldn’t be impossible, and he was conceivably already on their trail. They’d have to move faster, and just hope they didn’t make too much noise. The more distance they put between them and whoever was up there, the better.
“Are you all right to get going?” She didn’t need to know everything he was thinking. Even though she was tough, she might crack under that sort of pressure. He had to keep them moving and continue to stay positive. They’d head for the ruined house. There was no way he was going to follow a path this time, however. It’d be hard work slogging through the virgin forest. It’d slow them down, but also make their trail harder to track. But not impossible; their prints would still be visible in the snow, even in the dark. He’d call Levi on the sat phone once it was light to see if they could come up with another plan.
Helping Stella shrug on Tony’s backpack, he slipped his on, as well, then led them downhill. He’d tossed around the idea of carrying both backpacks to save Stella from having to do it, but knew that’d put him at a severe disadvantage if it came to having to run, or fight for their lives. They walked in silence for the next half an hour, both lost in their own thoughts.
A part of Wyatt wondered if the guy who’d killed Tony would have allowed them their freedom if he’d found the diamonds. Should he have left the bag for the hitman to find? Deep down, Wyatt already knew the answer. And at least now, they had a bargaining chip, something to use to negotiate with Dmytro.
Stella seemed to know what he was thinking, because she finally broke the silence by asking, “Can’t we just get rid of them? Throw them away? If we don’t have diamonds, then surely that’s the end, isn’t it?”
“That would be the simple solution,” he replied. A part of him liked that Stella had no compunction to keep the diamonds. At least he knew for certain she wasn’t driven by greed. He wondered idly how much the gems were worth. How much would Tony have been willing to risk his life for? Everyone had a price, but Wyatt had no idea how much Tony would sell his soul for. He suspected it’d have to be in the hundreds of thousands.
“But it’s never that simple,” he continued. “If we told Dmytro we threw them away, he wouldn’t believe us, even if it was the truth. People like that can’t see that people like us aren’t driven by greed. He’d hunt us down, and we’d never be safe.”
There was a brief silence as Stella digested his words. He pushed aside a low-hanging branch and held it while Stella went through. Wyatt glanced over his shoulder, something he’d been doing every few minutes since they left the log.
There was a flicker of light up above them on the mountainside.
“Shh,” he said urgently, grabbing Stella by the arm.
“Wha—?” He put a finger to her lips and pulled her behind a large tree trunk.
They waited for what seemed an eternity. Just when Wyatt thought he’d imagined it, there it was again. A definite shimmer, like someone using a flashlight. It went off as quickly as it’d gone on. The guy was probably checking he was on the right trail, making sure he didn’t miss the footprints. Wyatt cursed the snow. If it’d been any other time of year, it would’ve been almost impossible to track them through the dense, dark forest. But it was as if they’d left a glaring neon sign behind, pointing in their direction.
Stella gave a frightened squeak of alarm when the flashlight had flared. But now she was unbearably silent, staring up at the patch of forest where the killer was stalking them. Levi couldn’t hear anything, which meant this guy was clearly intelligent and well versed in outdoorsmanship, if he could descend so quickly and quietly behind them.
What were they going to do?
They could make a dash for it, straight down the mountain, not caring how much noise they made and try to outrun the guy.
But where would they run to? They were miles away from any roads or houses. How would Stella cope? She was already exhausted from their hike up to the summit yesterday. And now, running on very little sleep and a whole heap of adrenaline, he might be asking too much of her. The man would surely catch them before they made it halfway to safety.
He’d been too blasé, thinking this guy wouldn’t intercept them. Again, it was another mistake he’d made, and now he’d put Stella in even more danger. If he’d been on his own, he might’ve been able to outfox this hitman.
It’d been a mistake to make love to Stella tonight; to let himself fall under her spell. If only he’d checked the perimeter, like he wanted to, then maybe… But no, he could never think of making love with Stella as a mistake. He would give it all up again for another night with her.
But right now, he had no other option.
He was going to have to stand and fight.
Stella would not like this, but he prayed she followed his instructions. Dumping his backpack on the ground near Stella’s feet, he dug into the depths until he found what he was looking for. The large hunting knife in the leather sheath that he’d made by hand himself. He tucked the blade inside the breast of his coat.
Levi’s gun was a heavy weight in his pocket.
“I need you to wait here for me,” he whispered.
Her face was a pale oval in the starlight as she turned to look at him. “What? You’re not leaving me? You can’t—”
He placed a finger over her lips. Handing her the pistol, he asked, “Have you ever used one of these?”
“No, of course not.” Her whisper was getting louder by the second. They were running out of time; the guy probably had a bead on them already. Wyatt was hoping the man’s chief aim was the diamonds. If that were true, he wouldn’t kill them until he knew where they were. It was a gamble, but one Wyatt was prepared to take.
“I don’t have time to argue. If this guy gets past me, you’re going to have to use this to save yourself. Okay?” In any other instance, Wyatt would take the gun himself, but that would leave Stella completely unprotected and he wasn’t inclined to do that. He was skilled at using a knife, had killed many wild animals with one when he’d been hunting for food.
“I don’t…” the rest of her words faded out to a low whimper. Wyatt steeled his emotions. He couldn’t let Stella’s nervousness override what he had to do.
“It’s easy.” Taking her hand in his, he moulded her palm against the butt of the pistol and put her finger on the trigger. “I’ve already unlocked the safety catch. All you have to do is point and fire. It has ten bullets. If you need to use it, make sure each one counts Make sure he’s close enough that you can’t miss.”
“Merde,” she whispered.
“I’m hoping you won’t have to use this,” he said, running a finger down her cheek. “I’m going to sneak up behind him, try to capture him.”
A twig snapped not far away, and both of them looked up. The guy had gotten careless. Wyatt had wasted precious time trying to convince Stella. But this might play into their hands, because now there was no doubt the man knew where they were and was heading straight for them. In a way, he was going to use Stella as bait, draw the killer towards her, while he snuck around behind him.
Stella was still staring at him, the gun held away from her body at an awkward angle. He didn’t want to leave her. She’d be alone; a target in the night. He leaned in and kissed her on the lips. If it was the last time he ever got to see her, at least he had that.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promised.
Gliding noiselessly around the side of the large trunk, Wyatt headed off at a tangent, away from where the man was descending above them. He used every skill he’d ever learned to creep his way up the mountainside. Silent and deadly, he slipped into hunter mode—sta
lking his prey. He was doing this to protect Stella, he kept reminding himself. To protect the other people he loved. Protect Levi and Cat.
There was a tiny part of him that also wanted to avenge Tony’s death. Even though Tony had got him into this whole mess, and even though Tony would most likely have ended up back in jail, no one deserved to die that way.
It took him less than a minute to circle around, pushing stealthily through the bushes. He would’ve liked to take a wider arc, bringing him around so he came down from above, giving him the advantage of higher ground. But he couldn’t take the chance this man would get too close to Stella. So, instead, he came in at an angle, almost parallel with the slope of the mountain.
Wyatt glimpsed the man through the trees, a dark shape moving against the black background. He stopped and watched for a few seconds, making sure he didn’t know Wyatt was there. The bulge on the other man’s back hinted he was carrying a small backpack. Was that a rifle slung over his shoulder? He heard that Babich used a rifle as his weapon of choice. Shit. Wyatt’s guts quivered at the thought of going up against such a man. It meant Anton was armed not only with the knife he’d killed Tony with, but a gun, as well. He’d have to make sure he got in nice and close, so Anton wouldn’t have time to use the rifle. If it came down to a knife fight, the odds might be more on Wyatt’s side.
Closer and closer, Wyatt crept, stalking Anton. The other man’s focus was mostly downhill, towards the spot where Stella was hiding. But this man was no rookie, and he was also aware of his surroundings, twisting his head to check behind, and stopping to listen every few paces.
Wyatt got to within ten feet, when the man turned and stared in his direction. Wyatt was exposed, stalking between one tree trunk and the next. Anton spotted him. He raised his rifle.