Chapter 12
Rav
I scanned the cemetery entrance from the passenger seat of our vehicle. The narrow road we were parked on offered few escape routes—one way in, one way out.
A high stone wall surrounded the small courtyard at the cemetery’s entrance, with its handful of concrete planters and a couple of benches.
A stone building with barred windows to our right, the row of dumpsters against a white boundary wall, and the closed garage doors of what appeared to be maintenance buildings.
It was too closed in. Would be too difficult to defend. It was the perfect spot for an ambush.
“He’s late,” Zac said from behind the wheel.
Scarlett, sitting in the back, leaned between Zac’s seat and mine. “Five minutes isn’t late.”
“It is for this situation.” I continued watching, gaze shifting for a moment to the mountainous backdrop where Vesuvius rose, blocking out the early morning sun.
“He won’t jump out with fifteen men and trap us in here, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
That wasn’t Noah’s style, but it was still my job to consider it.
“Let’s go,” I said, not looking back at Scarlett. “But stick to the plan. You don’t approach until I’m certain he’s alone.”
“I’ve done this before, Rav.” Her tone was as neutral as it always was on a job, but there was exasperation underneath her facade.
“The last time you met him in a cemetery, you didn’t tell anyone you were going, and look how that wound up.” The memory of Malcolm’s panicked phone call that night in Venice still twisted my gut. I hadn’t wanted anything to do with the man ever again, but he’d saved her ass that night.
“Movement,” Zac murmured, nodding toward the service buildings lining the far side of the courtyard.
A figure emerged from between two of the buildings, slowly coming out of the shadows. Noah. His body language was cautious, his head turning to scan the surroundings before he fully stepped into view.
“Stay here,” I told Zac, reaching for the door handle. “Engine running.”
Scarlett was out before I could open her door. I fell into step behind her, one hand resting near my concealed weapon.
Noah favored his left leg—a limp he was trying to disguise. His normally impeccable appearance was still in place, but there were dark circles under his eyes. Either he was genuinely stressed, or this was an elaborate performance.
With Noah, it was impossible to tell.
His gaze fixed on Scarlett, then slid to me with a flash of irritation. “I said come alone, Scar.”
“And I chose not to,” Scarlett replied evenly. “We thought it best, in case you felt like kidnapping someone this morning.”
Noah’s mouth twisted. “I should have known it would be your guard dog.”
“It’s called loyalty, Noah,” I said, shifting slightly to maintain a clear view behind him. “You might want to look it up.”
“Loyalty?” His eyes hardened. “It didn’t extend to me that night in Prague, did it? If you hadn’t abandoned your post to play hero for Scarlett, things might have turned out very differently.”
My stomach churned. He was right. Two years ago, I’d left Noah to take my place in the vehicle that wound up plunging off the bridge.
I’d chosen Scarlett over him, like I had every day after that night she stopped me from—
He’s playing you, Rav. Don’t let him.
“We’re not here to rehash the past.” Scarlett’s voice remained steady and controlled. “You called this meeting. What’s so urgent?”
Noah gestured toward Scarlett’s left hand. “And I see the boy toy’s made his claim on you?”
“Yes.” Instead of letting the barb bother her, she smiled for him. She lifted her hand, waving her fingers so her engagement ring sparkled in the morning light. “It’s refreshing, you know? To be with someone who can actually stand up to my mother.”
The way Noah’s jaw flexed was unexpected. The comment stung him, and he was trying to hide it. Interesting. Was it pride? Jealousy?
Or had he not wanted to leave Scarlett in the first place?
“But we’re not here to discuss my love life, either, are we?” she said. “So why are we here?”
Noah glanced over his shoulder before answering. “The demonstration. It’s happening at the Pompeii Amphitheater during a concert event this week.”
“When?” I asked.
“Three days from now. They’re moving everything into position as we speak.”
Scarlett’s shoulders squared slightly—a subtle tell that she was already formulating plans. “What exactly is this demonstration supposed to accomplish?”
“The phoenix will rise,” Noah said, his voice dropping to near reverence.
“Your team keeps saying that. What does it mean?”
“Every ancient culture has its own version of the phoenix myth, but they all trace back to a single source. We’ve collected pieces from several civilizations around the world—the golden feather from Egypt, the talon from Rome, the beak from Mesopotamia.”
His eyes lost focus, his tone reminding me more of religious fervor than of the brilliant, dangerous manipulator he was.
“The Greek Fire liquid, when ignited near the assembled phoenix statue, will demonstrate healing capabilities that will change medicine forever.” Was he a true believer? Or was this another ploy?
“So why are you so worried about it?” I kept my doubt evident in my words.
“It’s not ready.” Noah’s face hardened. “The formulation is unstable. I’ve seen the test results—”
He cut himself off, glancing around again.
I did the same.
Which was exactly his plan. He was behaving as though he were nervous, specifically to make me nervous.
“When Massimo was arrested, I lost a significant ally in tempering Enzo’s zealous tendencies. Then we lost Lark last week. And then? Your virus infected our systems and disrupted our communications. For fuck’s sake, everyone’s anxious now, and that’s slowly turning into anger.”
This sounded good to me. Anger led to mistakes instead of the cruel precision they’d orchestrated every job we’d gone up against them with.
Noah took a half-step forward, while Scarlett took one back. “Enzo is leveraging that to push the timeline.”
I moved closer so I could act if Noah did anything stupid. “Why should we believe you care about potential casualties?”
The fervor in his eyes flashed to fear. “Because, contrary to what you might believe, I don’t want innocent blood on my hands.”
“Just guilty blood?” I countered.
He leveled me with a cold glare. “That’s what it takes to change the world, isn’t it, soldier?”
The flicker of the guilt I’d felt for abandoning the car in Prague evaporated.
I breathed.
Flared my nostrils.
Let him know he was getting to me, while making it abundantly clear he was only still standing because I was practicing patience.
“How do we stop it?” Scarlett asked, ignoring our jabs at each other.
Noah reached into his jacket—I nudged the hem of my shirt up and gripped my gun—and withdrew a business card, offering it to Scarlett. “Event planners. They’re handling the concert setup. Get someone backstage.”
“For what?”
He shifted his weight off his injured leg. “They’re planning to use the sewer system beneath the amphitheater. The Greek Fire will be disseminated through the drainage holes in the floor during the climax of the performance.”
The description triggered an unwanted flash of memories. A dusty lab in Afghanistan. The sound of breaking glass. Brooke’s screams in my nightmares. The scars on Percival’s arm.
You’ll never see her without a turtleneck.
“What happened to your leg?” I asked.
His eyes widened, then narrowed quickly. “Twisted ankle. Had to make a hasty exit after our phone call. Jumped a fence, landed badly.”
“Is the phoenix going to heal that for you, too?”
“Fuck,” he hissed. “Believe what you want, LaPierre. I’m not the enemy here.”
“No? How about I ask Emmett about who the enemy is?” Maybe I should have let Malcolm come this morning. Apparently, I was too easy to bait, too.
Noah turned his attention back to Scarlett, his voice softening. “You need to disrupt the ritual before it begins. The phoenix statue is essential—it’s not just symbolic. The prophecy says the healing properties only manifest when the statue is complete.”
“Why can’t you do it?” Scarlett sounded far too reasonable. “You’re on the inside.”
“Enzo’s people are watching me constantly. He suspects I’m having doubts.”
“So you’re using us as your personal sabotage team?” I said. “Again.”
Noah’s jaw tightened. “I’m trying to prevent a disaster.”
Scarlett stepped between us, as though attempting to block the tension. “If what you’re saying is true, we need more than a business card. Names, security details, access points to these sewers.”
He glanced over his shoulder again, then turned back to us with a grimace. “Meet me back here tomorrow morning. I’ll have more for you then.”
“And why exactly did you warn us to stay away if you needed our help?” That was the question that had been bothering me since his call.
A shadow of his former self returned as the corner of his mouth lifted. “Would you have come if I’d asked nicely?”
And there it was. He wasn’t even hiding the manipulation. Noah had calculated exactly how to ensure our presence—not by requesting help, but by warning us away. He understood Scarlett well enough to predict she’d do exactly the opposite of what he advised, especially when lives were at stake.
“Eventi Coppola.” He pointed at the card. “They’re handling all the logistics for the concert, including security passes. You could get backstage access through them. Steal a pass, clone credentials, whatever you need to do.”
“And Fenix?” I studied him while Scarlett examined the card. “How many of your people will be there?”
“A lot,” Noah admitted. “They’ll have people everywhere—stage crew, security, even mingling with the audience. They’ll recognize every one of your team.”
“We need disguises,” Scarlett said.
“Good ones.” Noah’s mouth quirked slightly. “And not the ridiculous red curly wig you keep going back to.”
Scarlett slipped the business card into her pocket. “I want exact details on where they’re setting up the Greek Fire, security rotations, and complete details on the phoenix assembly process. Either you help us fully, or we walk away.”
Noah nodded. “I’ll bring what I can tomorrow.”
He started to turn, then paused, looking at Scarlett with an expression I recognized too well. Worry. “Be careful, Scar. Enzo doesn’t know you’re here. He’s got the Carabinieri on Pendragon, but if he finds out your team is nearby, he’ll drop everything to go after you.”
“Noted,” she replied.
We watched him retreat, limping slightly, until he disappeared between the service buildings, where he’d come from.
“Thoughts?” Scarlett asked quietly.
“He’s lying,” I said, scanning the perimeter one more time before heading to the car. “I’m just not sure about which part.”
“Agreed. Let’s go.”