The Enemy's Kiss. Zandria Munson
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With her eyes closed tightly, Daniela could feel the exact moment when the thick corded muscles of his thighs clenched, and seconds later a crumbling noise ensued. Opening her eyes slowly, she cast a look over her head to find that the metal fence had been completely ripped from the wall.
Nicholas had to lean forward a bit more so that he could allow the iron to carefully slide to the floor below. This action brought his face mere inches from her own. His very masculine scent engulfed her, slipping into her nostrils to toy with her imagination.
The metal fence scrapped its way down the wall and landed on the floor with a quiet clank. Nicholas’s eyes met and held her own and he watched her for a few seconds. In this lighting they looked black, but she remembered from their earlier encounter that they were a very transfixing green; the color of the Brazilian rain forest after a fresh rain. His gaze was contemplative as he watched her, assessing almost.
“From this point on you will obey me without question,” he told her quietly. “Is that understood?”
Daniela was silent for a moment. She’d never been inclined to take orders from anyone, and she certainly wasn’t appreciating his demanding nature. But in her present predicament she would have to contend with it. She nodded.
He acknowledged her compliance with a grunt then moved carefully over her and through the exit. Daniela remained motionless for a moment as she regained her composure, then she quickly followed. Nicholas was moving between the crates, scrolling the light over them.
Daniela moved to stand beside him. “I don’t think you’re going to find the rune anywhere in this monastery,” she told him. “These guys are just middlemen. They acquire the items for the buyers and I’m not sure what happens after that, but I don’t think they keep them lying about for too long.”
“You may be correct, but as you say they are middlemen and at present my only connection to the one who has the rune.”
He turned and headed toward a short flight of stone steps that lead to a doorway outlined by a dull orange glow. He gripped the door handle and it turned with ease.
Daniela moved up the steps to join him then waited as he pulled the door open a crack and peered through. He listened for a few seconds and when they were met with quiet, he pulled the door wider. Dull light poured in from the narrow passage that lay beyond. They entered quietly and moved toward another flight of steps. A wooden door stood at the top of the stairway. As before, Nicholas eased it open and they looked through.
They heard muffled voices but no one was within sight. They slipped past the threshold and into a long, wide hall lit by several dangling bulbs. They moved cautiously toward an archway that was aglow with a light from a lower floor.
Daniela matched Nicholas’s pace, staying close, but never advancing ahead. Oddly, she didn’t feel any fear. There was just something about the man that gave her a sense of reassurance. She wasn’t sure if it was the confidence in his stride, the way he held his crossbow at his side—subtly poised for anything—or his tall and powerful frame. Whatever the reason, it was certainly an odd feeling for her. Never had she met a man who made her feel anything remotely close to security.
They passed through the archway and found themselves on the second floor of the main hall. The upper level was lined with a banister while the foyer below was crowded with wooden crates and barrels. Five men moved about, stacking the crates and rolling the barrels to one side.
Nicholas assumed an immediate crouching position and Daniela followed suit. Concealed within the shadows and behind the wooden posts of the banister, they observed the scene below. The men spoke with British accents and Daniela recognized one of them immediately. Tall and with a gangly frame, she knew him only by his nickname, Cradle. She’d done business with him a few times, actually delivering the first rune to him a few days ago. And it was to him that she was expected to deliver the second.
“That’s him,” she told Nicholas. “He’s the one I gave the rune to.”
He fixed the man with a lethal look. “So it is possible that the rune is here?”
Daniela didn’t like the look on his face. It seemed he contemplated a confrontation. Between him with his antique weapon and her with her butter knife, the chances of victory were positively slim.
“No,” she tried to dissuade. “I told you before that these guys are just middlemen. I doubt they hold on to the items for very long.”
“He was given the rune. If it is not in his possession he will know where it is.” With that he slid forward a few feet.
Daniela watched him incredulously. There was no way he could confront Cradle without alerting the others. And doing that would only lead to his death—or worse.
She cast a glance over her shoulder. It was time for her to make an exit. Nicholas had her cell phone and could possibly use it to learn her identity, but if she managed to get out of there she could contact Mai and have her cancel her cellular account. Attempting an escape was better than remaining here to face a certain death. Even if Nicholas didn’t make it out of there, her life was still at risk because her cell phone remained in his pocket, which she was sure Cradle and his comrades would search.
She briefly considered returning the way they’d come, but realized that it would take too long to reach a safe distance. What she needed was a fast and easy escape route. Her gaze flitted across the upper level of the room, scanning the shadows as she sought an alternative exit. It seemed luck was on her side for on the opposite end of the room a small glass window beckoned to her. It was slightly ajar and just wide enough for her to pass through. The only problem was that she’d never be able to make her way to it before she got caught. But then she’d always been innovative.
Again she scanned the room. Overhead the ancient ceiling had been left open and she could see the heavy maze of rafters. She was certain she could reach them, and the beams looked sturdy enough to support her weight.
She shot a glance at the men below, then to Nicholas. She would have only a few seconds before he realized that she’d left his side. Her plan would have to be executed without flaw. In the next second, she stood, climbed onto the banister and made a jump for the nearest beam of the rafter. She caught it and gracefully swung her legs up and around it, finally pulling her entire body onto it.
Slipping into a feline crouch, her gaze swept over the occupants of the room a second time. The men below went about their duties, but Nicholas’s very disapproving attention was pinned to her. A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth and she shrugged. There was no way he could follow her and he knew it.
She turned and began her careful journey toward the window. She’d only gotten midway when the beam beneath her began to creak. She froze. The sound had been very quiet, barely audible beneath the laughter of the men below, but she’d heard it. And oddly, so had Nicholas. She looked at him just in time to see his eyes dip to the beam. A quick assessment revealed that, although the beam itself was sturdy, the joints that connected it were worn with decay.
The wood creaked again and she weighed her options; going back was definitely not among them. Besides, she was halfway to the other side. She only needed to be quick, she told herself, to make it there.
One, she began counting, two, three …
She made a dash for it, got only another few feet before a loud creak resounded across the room and the termite-riddled joints that held the beam up surrendered to the added weight. Daniela gripped a smaller beam over her head, but that too gave way and she found herself falling to the ground.
She landed gracefully amidst the lengths of rotten wood. Dust hung about her and as she stood she looked up to find the five men, including Cradle, watching her. She slowly backed toward a stack of crates as they advanced. Her heart began drumming wildly when one of them pulled out a gun.
“Well, well. What have we got here?” he said.
“Looks like a little spy,” said another.
“Or the police,” Cradle piped