Ancient Danger
Page 1
Ancient Danger
Mata Hari Suspense Series #3
Jo-Ann Carson
JRT Publications
Nanaimo
Ancient Danger Copyright © 2015 by Jo-Ann Carson Terpstra. All Rights Reserved.
Contents
Introduction
Praise for Ancient Danger
Aknowledgements
Dedication
Quote
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
17. Chapter Seventeen
18. Chapter Eighteen
19. Chapter Nineteen
20. Chapter Twenty
21. Chapter Twenty-One
22. Chapter Twenty-Two
23. Chapter Twenty-Three
24. Chapter Twenty-Four
25. Chapter Twenty-Five
26. Chapter Twenty-Six
27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
30. Chapter Thirty
31. Chapter Thirty-One
32. Chapter Thirty-Two
33. Chapter Thirty-Three
34. Chapter Thirty-Four
35. Chapter Thirty-Five
36. Chapter Thirty-Six
37. Chapter Thirty-Seven
38. Chapter Thirty-Eight
39. Chapter Thirty-Nine
40. Chapter Forty
41. Chapter Forty-One
42. Chapter Forty-Two
43. Chapter Forty-Three
44. Chapter Forty-Four
45. Chapter Forty-Five
46. Chapter Forty-Six
47. Chapter Forty-Seven
48. Chapter Forty-Eight
A Letter From Jo-Ann
Also by Jo-Ann Carson
About the Author
Excerpt from Lovin' Danger
Introduction
Ancient Danger
Mystery, Adventure, Love
During a costume ball in a Venetian palace, an assassin tries to kill Sadie Stewart, the international model with a double life. When she contacts her old boss at the CIA for help, she is swept back into the world of espionage and agrees to do one last mission. Arms-dealer Bakari al-Sharif is planning to steal an ancient, Egyptian scarab imbued with magic from Highclere castle. Because Sadie is the only person who has ever gotten close to the man and lived, the CIA want her to stop him.
Her six-month anniversary with her lover Sebastian Wilde in Venice is ruined. He doesn’t want her to go back to the life of a spy, but Sadie has no choice. The arms-dealer needs to be stopped and she wants to find the people behind the assassination attempt on her life.
Ancient Danger is the second book in the Mata Hari series, which can be read as a stand alone. If you like Indiana Jones and Covert Affairs, you’ll love this book, which combines all of their best traits in a a fast-paced captivating and sexy, romantic suspense.
Buy Ancient Danger today, if you want adventure and romance in your life.
by Jo-Ann Carson
Smart, Sexy, Suspense
Praise for Ancient Danger
“All Sadie Stewart wanted was a nice romantic evening with her boyfriend Sebastian Wilde to celebrate their six-month anniversary. But when a masked assassin attempts to kill her, she knows instinctively what she must do. When she returns to the CIA for answers, she’s instead presented with a new mission only she can manage. Bakari al-Sharif is power hungry and desperate to save his ailing daughter with the only object that’s capable; King Tutankhamen’s scarab. With Sadie being the only operative to have ever penetrated his inner circle, she’ll have to use both her wits and sex appeal to thwart Bakari’s over the top heist. Will Sadie be forced to compromise her morals? Can her relationship with Sebastian survive a double life: More importantly, who wants her dead, and why? Fast paced and thrilling, a reader is immediately drawn into the action and suspense right from the opening chapter! …Ms. Carson delivers one a unique twist of mystery and suspense, as well as Ancient Egyptian magic, and steamy romance!” Stephanie Lodes, Sept 2015 InD’tale Magazine.
“Filled with sexy tension and dramatic scenes, this book hooked me from start to finish. The pace is fast and the characters will leave you wanting more. There are some surprises, too, that I wasn’t expecting. This book can be read as a standalone but I highly recommend you read the books in order. You won’t be sorry.” N.N. Light, 5 star review on Amazon.com
“Ms. Carson’s Mata Hari Series always delivers a sensual, suspense-filled adventure to vibrant locales brimming with danger and intrigue. Her complicated heroine spy, Sadie, is challenged once again by familiar friends and foes, including her super-hot Dutch warrior boyfriend, Sebastian. Then there’s Casanova and Beatrice—perfect additions to an already captivating cast of characters. Can’t wait to see what happens next in this series!” J Reads, 5 star review on Amazon.com
“This series keeps getting better!” Gina Smith, 5 star review on Amazon.com
Aknowledgements
Ancient Danger took over a year to write and publish. I couldn’t have done it without the support of my family and friends. In particular I’d like to acknowledge the following:
First my family –
My husband, Piet, listened to every wild idea I came up with and encouraged me to “go for it.” Thanks also go to my daughters Hannah and Jasmin for their encouragement, and to my grandkids, Clara, Cameron and Liam, for making me smile deep down inside.
I got my second diagnosis for cancer during this writing year. Finishing this book became part of my battle against the damn disease. Writing despite the heavy shadow of fear that threatened to swallow me whole, made me feel like I was fighting back. Seeing the book finished is a soulful victory for me. Throughout my journey my loved ones were always by my side in spirit. There are no words to adequately describe my gratitude. It is deep and wide and forever.
Thanks also to my technical team –
My thanks go to Dr. Philip Newey, my copy-editor, who fixes my grammar and Nina French, my cover designer extraordinaire. The cover of this book was a finalist in two cover contests!
My Writing Community
And last, but never least, I want to thank my writing buddies who support and inspire me every day. Thanks go to Rosalind Villers, for giving Sadie’s labradoodle puppy his name: Casanova; and Angela Sanders, for sharing her expertise about perfume..
All errors are my own.
Dedication
My beautiful daughters, Hannah and Jasmin
who are the magic in my world.
Quote
“Love is space and time measured by the heart.”
Marcel Proust
1
Chapter One
Venice, Italy
October
Stifling the desire to scream, Sadie stood on top of the fourteenth-century Venetian palazzo looking out over the lagoon and its islands. No point risking the lives of others. She took a deep breath of the salty air blowing in off the Adriatic Sea. The red-tiled rooftops, round domes and cathedral spires of the ancient city spread to the west. For hundreds of years noblemen had used this perch to watch the arrival of merchant ships from the Orient with their exotic wares. Now it had become her trap.
Below, an opera singer in the bow of a gondola serenaded young lovers nestled inside, while t
he gondolier at the stern in his blue and white striped shirt navigated the still night waters. Venice, a city steeped in history and secrets, a place where anything could happen in a heartbeat and did; a sanctuary for people like her who wanted to disappear. It was her second home.
Happy sounds of the party roared around her, while her heart stilled. Sadie kept her cover-girl smile in place, as a tingle crawled across her scalp. Why tonight of all nights?
She’d been with Sebastian for six months, not always in the same geographical location, but together-together in the way that really counts—in the heart. Tonight was their six month anniversary and she’d wanted everything to be perfect. That’s why she’d chosen to meet him in Venice.
The fact that a big masquerade ball had been planned for a charity they both supported made it all the more perfect. She looked around, taking in the success of the event with her eyes and the danger with her mind.
Who could recognize her? A black lace mask fashioned by a local artist covered the top half of her face. She’d dressed in a red, silk and satin Marie Antoinette gown that hid her model thin stature. She blended well with the reveling crowds that packed the Restaurant terrazza.
Inside, a band dressed in embroidered gold knickers and topcoats played modern dance music heavy on the sax. Their sultry music set a provocative tone. The smell of expensive perfumes and the sweat of people hungry for excitement saturated the warm night air with a growing sense of anticipation that had a throbbing pulse of its own.
Curling a loose tendril of her long red hair around her index finger, Sadie studied the moment, slowing it down, soaking in every detail. What had she been thinking, leaving herself so exposed? Had she been thinking? She swallowed.
Fifteen yards to her left loomed the predatory male. Closing in.
Watching him from the corner of her eye for the last ten minutes she’d assessed the threat level. Way too high for her liking. Tall, lean and sturdy like a basketball center, the man had a fluid and menacing air about him as if he readied for battle. He wore a black woolen cape over black clothes, a tricorne hat over a white wig and a gold, baroque, satiro mask. It was the popular carnivale guise of the satyr, a creature from Greek mythology known for reveling in the pleasures of the flesh and it covered the man’s identity well, but not his intent.
He looked at her as if she had a bulls-eye on her forehead, and the way he moved, stealth-like, hunting his prey, set off her warning bells. The hair on the nape of her neck rose. He could be an assassin sent to kill her to make her secrets disappear, or he could be someone from her past wanting revenge in a more personal way. Given her former life as a spy, many possibilities came to mind. She balled her fists, letting the sharp edges of her nails pierce her skin.
She searched for his hands, but they were hidden beneath his long, black cloak. Did he have a weapon? Her senses sharpened as she scanned the area again. He appeared to be alone.
Two couples close to her chatted about the fruity bouquet of their wine. One tasted an edge of oak, another chocolate. Not a friend in sight. Pulling up her heavy skirt, she prepared to move if he came closer. In peak condition she could run fast, but her gown and stupid shoes would slow her down. Perhaps enough to get caught this time. And then what?
The satyr took another step towards her and they made eye contact for the first time. A cold connection zapped between them, like the kiss of a lizard. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck and she shivered.
Escape. She had to escape. People flooded the terrace and restaurant inside, like a tightly knit school of piranha. She could barely breathe let alone move, the place was so packed. Where were the security men? She’d insisted they hire an extra team of trained people, because there would be so many wealthy people attending. Big money draws crime. Had they been distracted? Distracted professionals—that was never a good sign. She licked her lips and edged away from her hunter.
If only she could slip into the shadows. But there were none. Exposed and vulnerable. She couldn’t scream for help, because that would force the stalker to make a move. That could get nasty. Squeezing her fists more tightly she waited for her moment, knowing that choosing it wisely could be a matter of life or death.
So many people—innocent people. She couldn’t let anyone get hurt. Not because of her, and the choices she’d made in her life. As her pulse quickened, the irony of the situation humored her. She had suggested this site for the charity ball, because it looked like an enchanted palace in a storybook, and they were raising money for childhood cancer research. Now she’d been trapped in her fantasy. She looked down. Another black gondola left its mooring carrying lovers through the night. If she could go back in time…
Turning to face the crowd, she scanned the party for Sebastian. He’d left her side twenty minutes ago to take an urgent phone call from his aunt’s doctor. Had that call been staged?
Not that Sadie needed a man to rescue her. She could take care of herself. But it would be nice to see him and his broad shoulders right about now.
Elaborate masks and costumes made it hard to tell who the bad guys were. Or how many. But it still appeared the satyr hunted alone.
She reviewed her options once more. She’d love to phone for help, but lifting her big skirt to remove the cell-phone strapped to the inside of her right thigh would cause too much commotion and give the satyr time to pounce. She fidgeted.
The satyr’s stare burned the side of her head. So disgusting. No matter how this night ended, she’d hate the satyr mask forever.
The cacophony of voices speaking many languages and dialects grew louder. The party had hit its zenith.
At moments like this, adrenalin pushed her senses to the extreme. The crowd became one large pulsating body of humanity. She could feel and smell the longing of unfulfilled desires in the crowd. A transcendental moment before all hell broke loose.
Looking over her shoulder, she spied him ten yards away. His mouth was unusually empty of expression, as if he’d faced his existential wall and lost. His dark eyes glared. She grabbed the stone banister with both hands and scrambled to the top. Once on her knees she pulled herself to a standing position. The breeze cooled her skin as she found her balance like a gymnast.
People gasped. “Dio, Dio,” one man cried. A murmur of concern spread through the crowd as they turned to look at her, the crazy woman
“Tell Sebastian Wilde I need him,” she yelled at the wide-eyed group of people near her, hoping someone might know the popular art dealer and understand her message. At the very least, the people with their eyes on her would get the desperation of her dramatic act and call the police. The confusion created by her climb would make it harder for her stalker to pounce. She gritted her teeth, hoping the man in black would disappear into the shadows from which he’d oozed.
But he didn’t. She exhaled, not realizing she’d been holding her breath. Pushing back his cloak, the stalker quickened his pace and moved to close the gap between them.
The top of the foot-wide marble railing had been built sturdily, and she could stand on it as long as she didn’t look down. She most definitely couldn’t look down. Edging to the east she focused on keeping her footing steady and breathing. She needed oxygen to fuel her muscles. She’d been trained to handle adrenalin rushes. Steady breathing—would do the trick. She could do this. As long as she didn’t… Her right foot slipped. Damn the stupid shoes. She kicked one off, then the other. People below started yelling and looking up. The marble felt cool to her feet. Her skirt brushed the surface and she pulled it up with her hands.
“Look a woman is standing on the railing. Look,” yelled a woman below. Other cries were muted as she focused on her step. Tunnel vision. Another sign of the adrenalin rushing through her system.
The people on the terrace pushed away from her, as if she might pull them over. No one wanted to be grabbed by a lunatic on a ledge. A white-haired dowager squared her shoulders and marched up to her reaching for her with a thin hand covered in blue veins. �
�Come down from there,” she demanded like an old school marm. “Is it man trouble? Trust me dear, they aren’t worth it.”
Sadie shook her head. A slight gust of air brushed her shoulder as a shiny Ninja star sped past her skin, missing by an inch. Great, the satyr’s a Mutant Ninja Turtle in disguise. She gripped the surface of the banister with her toes, an impossible task, but she tried all the same.
The older woman screamed. “Someone’s attacking her,” and ran back into the throng.
Could this night get any freaking worse?
As if in answer to her question, a second star whizzed by her mouth. This time it missed by half an inch. Sweet Jesus. Keep your balance Sadie. A familiar metallic taste flooded her mouth, her focus sharpened even more. Left foot, breathe, right foot… She talked her way forward, her muscles cramping from the strain.
It made no sense. What kind of man would throw Ninja weapons in the middle of a charity ball? He had to be either really desperate, really stupid, or… confident he could get away with it. As her former spy-boss Jeremiah once said: “Venice is a city where secrets hide for centuries.” Sweat poured from her body drenching her bra and panties, which stuck to her like a second skin. She wiped at her eyes to see more clearly. Not looking down. She couldn’t look down. She inched along. Surely someone would come and help her soon.