“How sorry?” He lifted one sexy brow—the one near the cut—and winced.
“Not that sorry.” Kendall gently pushed the edges of the wound together, cleaned off the new blood and applied the superglue without a single foreign memory rushing through her head. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to her sixth sense. After the glue dried, she covered it with a bandage. “Brandi left some Tylenol, but I don’t trust her completely. She rescued us, but someone here must’ve drugged my bottle of water. My money’s on her. She’s a nurse and could easily acquire medications.”
“It’s possible. Her legs look familiar.”
“What?”
“When we were leaving the hotel, you said you felt like someone was watching us. There was a woman there. I couldn’t see her face, but I saw her legs. I think it was Brandi.”
Kendall shook her head. “You really have a thing for legs, don’t you?”
“Has nothing to do with appreciation. That was all I could see. You should be proud of me for IDing her just by her legs.”
“Forgive me if I seem less than enthusiastic. Why didn’t you mention it before?”
“I wasn’t sure then. I’m still not, but she’s definitely acting strange.”
“Assuming she was the one who drugged the water, she was probably trying to keep me from finding the box. But why help us get back here? Why not just leave us there?”
“Maybe she doesn’t want us dead, just out of the way.”
Kendall gave him some of her own Tylenol and a bottle of water that had been left on the dresser, compliments of the inn. “You need to eat.”
“I need a steak.”
“It’s breakfast and we’re in Italy. How about pastry or some fruit?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Let me get dressed and we’ll go downstairs.”
“You need rest. I’ll run down and bring something back.”
“I don’t want you to go alone.”
“I’ll be fine. If Brandi wanted to hurt me, she would have already done it. I’ll go straight there and back.”
Loretta was in the dining room looking over a table filled with assorted pastries, cheese, fruit, juices, and coffee. Her curls looked like cabbage rolls today. “I’m starving to death. I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. I went to bed and slept like the dead. I think I got some bad pizza.” She picked up some kind of pastry and sighed. “I miss bacon and eggs.” She put the pastry on her plate and found a seat. “How’s the patient?”
“He’s resting. I came to get some food.”
“Poor thing, falling on his honeymoon. I hope it doesn’t interfere with the...you know...activities.”
Kendall felt herself blush. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“You think he’ll feel well enough for the tour? There’s a haunted graveyard.”
“We’ll see.” Kendall prepared a breakfast tray and started upstairs. When she reached the landing, she saw Brandi’s door cracked. She was talking to someone. Kendall eased closer, trying to listen.
“Why haven’t you called? I’m getting worried.”
Kendall’s tray bumped the door. She cursed under her breath and turned to go but before she got to her room, Brandi stepped out. “Ke...Kara? Is Jason OK?”
Kendall put on a smile. “Yes. He’s resting. Sorry, I was bringing his breakfast when I saw your door open.” Kendall moved closer, trying to see inside Brandi’s room. “I wanted to thank you again for helping us out, but I didn’t realize you were on the phone. I don’t know what we could have done if you hadn’t shown up. It was almost...miraculous.”
Brandi stood in the door, making it hard for Kendall to see past her. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I was there.” Brandi’s bottom lip was red, as if she’d been biting it.
“You seem worried. I couldn’t help but overhear part of your conversation. Is everything OK?”
Brandi straightened her shoulders. “It’s fine. I just have a...patient who’s not doing well.”
She was lying. The emotion was genuine, but not its source. “I’m sorry. If I can help, just let me know. Even if you want to talk.”
Because I sure as heck want to know what you’re up to.
“The best thing you can do is keep Jason in bed.” Brandi put on a smile as fake as Kendall’s. “One less patient to worry about.”
“Right.” Kendall went back to her room. Jake was sitting on the edge of the bed staring at his cell phone. He was still in his towel. She placed the tray on the table near him. “I thought you were resting. What are you doing?”
“Phone’s fried.”
“Maybe it’s the battery,” Kendall suggested.
“I put a new one in.” Jake tossed the phone on the bed and picked up a bottle of water. He frowned and exchanged it for a cup of coffee. “Those statues must have destroyed it.”
“You don’t trust the water?”
“Do you?”
“I suppose not. We know someone here must have drugged the bottle I took to the castle. I assumed Thomas followed us here, but what if Thomas had an accomplice? I just overheard Brandi leaving a message for someone. She said she hadn’t heard from the person and was getting worried.”
“It’s possible.” He rubbed his head. “We need to find a new place to stay.”
“You can’t leave. You can barely stand up.”
Jake touched his forehead. “If she’s working with Thomas, I want you out of here. That might explain what she was doing at the car.”
“She said she was running an errand nearby. Roberto asked her to keep an eye out for us.”
“She could have been waiting to give Thomas a ride. Maybe they planned to take the box and run away.”
“Then where is Thomas now?”
“I wish I knew.” Jake took a bite of pastry. “Did anyone else see us sneak in?”
“A couple of people.”
“We’ll get some sleep, and then leave.”
“And go where? We don’t know where the box is.”
“Isn’t that what you do, find things?”
“Sometimes, but I can’t always control it. Finding relics is one thing. We have people trying to kill us. We need to call Nathan and let him know what’s going on.”
“Do you want to tell him we lost the box?”
“No, but we need to let someone know about Raphael. Nathan can call the police.”
“Raphael’s dead. We can’t help him. I don’t want the police involved yet. Nathan might feel compelled to tell them.”
“He’s not going to be happy.”
“Nathan’s never happy.”
He wasn’t, Kendall thought. He was too serious, too stressed. He’d never offered to discuss his personal life with her, and she didn’t feel like their relationship was such that she could ask. She wasn’t the only one who worried about him. Fergus watched over him like a mother hen.
“Why aren’t you eating?” Jake asked.
“I’ll get something in a minute. Do you think Thomas was the shooter?”
“Seems like a long time to hang around and wait to ambush us when he didn’t know if we would escape the catacombs. Not to mention there was a car bomb waiting.”
“Maybe it was the goat herder. I would suggest Brandi, but why would she shoot at us and then give us a ride?”
Jake shook his head and took another sip of coffee. “Unless she was trying to scare us off. If she wanted to kill us, she had the perfect opportunity. She wouldn’t take us from the secluded woods to a crowded inn so she could knock us off.”
Kendall studied his posture: the way he didn’t quite look at her, the set of his shoulders. “You don’t believe the person who shot at us set the bomb.”
“Are you using your mind tricks on me?”
“I can tell from your body language. You think there’s more than one person after us?”
Jake sighed and set the cup down. “It would seem that way, but maybe they were just being very thorough.”
“If the killer finds th
e car he’ll know we made it out.”
“Let’s hope he didn’t go back to check it out.”
“How did you know the car was going to blow up?”
“I saw tracks and a cigarette butt. Then I spotted the wires.”
“How did they time it to go off just as we got there?”
“Might have been watching. Might have been a coincidence. Damn, I can’t keep my eyes open.”
“Sleep for a couple of hours. We can’t really leave anyway since we’re playing dead.”
“A few hours’ rest, and then we’ll plan our next step.” He lay back on the bed and pulled the covers over him.
“Do you want to put on something besides a towel?”
He shook his head, his eyes already closed. “Don’t leave the room. And eat something.”
For several minutes, she watched his chest rise and fall, the pulse ticking at his throat, and knew he was asleep. His face didn’t relax. He looked just as alert as when he was awake. His hair was still wet, and there was a spot of shampoo he’d missed above one ear. She dabbed it off and he flinched. She wondered if he was reliving the bomb.
She was tired, but too tense to sleep. And her body ached. That fall down the steps in the catacombs hadn’t helped. She tried a couple of bites of pastry but had no appetite. She took two Tylenol, and then found the scrap of paper from the old desk in the castle. She sat on the sofa and studied it, but didn’t get any further impressions. She’d have Roberto look at it later. Maybe he could tell her what it said.
She made a list of things they did know. The castle...rumored to be cursed—definitely haunted. They had found the box in the catacombs and lost it, probably to Thomas, yet still didn’t know what it contained or why Nathan was so determined to find it. Obviously, he wasn’t the only one. The cross...a key posing as a necklace. She hadn’t imagined that light flashing when she put it in the lock. Raphael...She had no idea what Raphael was or what his part was in this. But he was dead now. The statues...like some kind of laser fence. The ghost...Where did he fit in?
Jake shifted beneath the covers and Kendall watched him for a moment. He was a stranger, yet he didn’t feel strange. Then again, she’d spent more time in bed with him than she had with any other man in years. He rolled over, exposing a muscular arm with a tan line revealing his preference for T-shirts. He was good looking—gorgeous even—but he wasn’t any happier than Nathan. That shouldn’t have troubled her, but it did. She rubbed her head, which was starting to feel like a ball of cotton, and then gave up and climbed in bed beside Jake, clothes and all.
“No,” he muttered.
Did he want the whole bed for himself?
His breathing quickened. “No,” he said again.
She rolled over and saw that his eyes were closed, his brow furrowed. Kendall put her hand on his shoulder. His skin was firm and warm. “Jake? You’re dreaming.”
He rolled toward her, too close, and she tried to ease away.
“Don’t leave.”
If it had been a demand, she would have moved, but it was a plea and it nailed her to the spot. She turned over and relaxed against him, feeling his heart beating strong and steady against her back. But it was Adam she dreamed of when she slept.
“Who are you?” Nathan asked.
The old man walked slowly down the steps, his gaze moving over every contour of Nathan’s face. “I’m Marco. I’ve been waiting for you.” He smiled. His white hair was wild, and he had a long white beard that made him look like Moses. His robe, similar to a monk’s, was covered in dirt and something else. Blood?
“Do you live here?” Nathan asked.
“Yes.”
“You are Italian?”
He studied Nathan again, his eyes intelligent in spite of his appearance. “We are from all places. You are from America?”
“Yes. Are you alone here?”
“No. Raphael is here.”
“Raphael? Who is he?”
“A guard.”
“He’s your bodyguard?”
“No, just a guard.”
“What does he guard?”
The old man looked confused. He frowned. “The treasure. Raphael guards the treasure. And me.”
Nathan’s adrenaline started to spike and his skin warmed, but he controlled the urge. The last thing he wanted was to scare this old man to death. He might be the only link to Kendall and Jake’s location. “Where is the treasure?”
“It’s hidden.”
“Do you know where?”
Marco frowned and scratched his bearded chin. “I don’t remember where we put it.”
The old man must be senile. “What kind of treasure do you have?”
“Many things. Important things. We have to protect them.”
“Money?” A box? Had Jake and Kendall found it?
“There are coins.” He sat on a chair and scratched his chin again. “Jewels and gold, I think.” He nodded as if he had done something good. “Yes, and objects. Lots of objects.”
“Can you take me to Raphael?”
“I think he’s dead. Like the others. The statues killed them.”
Nathan’s heart lodged in his throat. Kendall and Jake? “There are others here?”
“The strangers. Raphael said not to let them see me.”
“Can you take me to them?” If it was Kendall and Jake, someone must have killed them here and then burned the car.
The old man nodded and started toward the door. He looked back to see if Nathan was following. The old man led him through the castle and they stepped outside. He could see the statue more clearly now. Farther away, he could see another one and another, just like in his dreams. He glanced back and saw the castle was camouflaged by vines.
“There.” The man pointed to two lumps on the ground, and Nathan’s chest filled with dread. It took all his strength to keep his adrenaline under control. He swallowed and started toward them, his feet like lead. When he got closer, he saw the bodies were covered by robes similar to Marco’s. Shoes stuck out from under the edge of one robe. A man’s shoes. Jake? He turned to the other body. It was completely covered. Impossible to tell if it was a man or a woman. He knelt beside it, heart clawing at his throat as he reached for the hood. He pulled back the cowl with a trembling hand, and he saw a man’s blackened eyes.
It wasn’t her. His relief faded as quickly as it had come.
But it could have been her. Just because there were no bodies didn’t mean she hadn’t been in the car. Someone could have pulled her out and taken her to the hospital. She could be lying in a morgue. “Did you see a man and a woman here?”
Marco shook his head, but Nathan’s relief was cut short. “I heard them,” the old man said. “Arguing.”
“Did you hear their names?”
“No. But they were looking for something. The man didn’t trust Raphael.”
Mistrustful. Sounded like Jake. “Do you know where they are now?”
“They left.” The old man’s eyes grew bright for a moment, and Nathan could sense the wisdom and intelligence that had once been there. “They’re in trouble. We need to warn them.”
“How do you know they’re in trouble?” Nathan asked.
“I know things. Where is your father?”
He must be confusing him with someone else. “My father is dead.”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I forget things sometimes.”
“Show me where you last saw Raphael.”
The old man led him back inside to a spot in the foyer near huge columns. There was a pool of dried blood, but no body.
“Did you bring the key?” Marco asked.
“What key?”
“To the box.”
CHAPTER TEN
“DO YOU HAVE the box?” the Reaper asked.
“We had it, but it’s been stolen,” his guide said.
“Stolen?” he roared. “I must have that box.”
“I understand. I’m searching for it now.”
“Jake must have t
aken it. Get Thomas to help you find it. He knows him.”
“I’m sorry, Thomas is dead. All your men are.”
“Jake. Damn him. I knew he was trouble. I should have killed him before.”
“I don’t think Jake stole the box. I think Thomas took it. He was a traitor. I overheard him talking to someone about destroying the box.”
“Thomas? He’s been with me for two years,” the Reaper said.
“Then with all due respect, I would be wary of any information he was privy to.”
“And you didn’t tell me this before?” The Reaper’s voice was low, menacing.
The guide shivered. He had to tread carefully. He had been hired to find the box, but what he was doing was very dangerous. The Reaper was not a man to be crossed unless the reward was so large it made the risk worthwhile. He wasn’t even sure he was a man. But greed was stronger motivation than fear. “I wanted to make sure before I told you.”
“Who do you think has my box?”
“I believe Thomas gave it to someone else before he died.” The guide had killed Thomas too soon, thinking the box was in his leather bag. Now he had to find it again. “I have an idea where it may be.”
“Maybe Thomas was working with Kendall and Jake. I’ll send others to help you retrieve it.”
“No. This is delicate and needs to be handled with discretion.” The guide couldn’t steal the box for himself if others were there. Thomas’s betrayal had played nicely into his hands. If this plan worked, only the highest bidder would know the box had been found.
Kendall woke, her head thick with dreams, and with Jake wrapped around her like a blanket. His arm was slung over her waist, his leg covering her thigh, and at some point he’d lost the towel. She pondered whether to move or stay. She wanted to stay, but that wouldn’t be wise.
Why not? He wouldn’t expect anything in return. No complications. Just a detour on her road to...where? She wasn’t sure where she was going. Nothing in her life had been normal up to this point. No reason to believe it would start now. What man would shackle himself to her, knowing about her gift? She might as well have buckteeth and a face full of warts.
“How did you sleep, my beautiful bride?”
Guardians of Stone (The Relic Seekers) Page 14