Chapter 20
Rav
Noah was seventeen minutes late.
I scanned the cemetery entrance again, hand resting on the door handle, for no reason other than to keep it off my sidearm.
“This isn’t like him,” Scarlett murmured from the back seat. “Five minutes yesterday was one thing, but he’s never this late.”
Except when he was two years late telling you he was still alive, Scar.
Every move meant something to a man like Noah. Including making us wait.
Zac shifted in the driver’s seat, checking his mirrors. “Could be traffic. The accident on the highway we avoided?”
“He used to be thirty minutes ahead of everything, to be sure he always had the lay of the land,” she said. “I don’t like this.”
We’d been waiting since 6:45. There hadn’t been any sign of him. Something was off.
“We give it five more minutes,” I said. “Then we leave.”
Scarlett leaned forward between the seats. “We need the intel he promised us.”
“We need to be alive to use any of it,” I snapped, more sharply than intended.
I hadn’t slept well last night, and it was showing. The rooftop conversation with Brooke kept replaying in my mind.
The almost-kiss. Her hand on my chest again.
The interrupted question: Do you ever think about us?
I hadn’t meant to ask her. The words were out of my mouth before my brain kicked in. She was smart enough to figure out my guilty truth: I thought about her all the time.
If Malcolm hadn’t interrupted us, what would she have said? There’d been plenty of time for her to answer, but she’d just stood there, staring at me.
Distractions get people killed, Rav.
Or burned.
Scarlett said, “We should check between those service buildings he came from yesterday.”
I nodded curtly. “You stay in the vehicle.”
“Rav—”
“Non-negotiable.” I turned to fix her with a glower. “I’m not letting you walk into a potential trap.”
Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t push back. It was progress, at least.
The minutes crawled by, punctuated only by the distant call of gulls and the occasional passing vehicle on the road behind us. Every shadow, every movement in my peripheral vision triggered a threat assessment.
I nodded and pulled the door handle. “Keep the engine running. If anything looks off, you pull out immediately.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Scarlett said. “Quick look, then come back.”
“Two minutes,” I promised, though we both knew I’d take as long as necessary.
The morning air was cool against my face as I eased out of the vehicle. I started with a 180-degree sweep before closing the door. My Glock sat in its concealed holster at my waist, ready to be drawn.
I studied the area where Noah had appeared yesterday. No trace. No sound. The courtyard at the cemetery’s entrance was too calm.
Too fucking calm.
I circled toward the narrow alleyway between the two service buildings. As I rounded the corner, I slowed. The alley was narrow, preventing the morning sun from piercing it. It extended only thirty feet, emptying into a field of bushes and low trees.
Drawing my weapon, I moved forward, keeping my steps as quiet as possible. Halfway down the alley, barely visible in the dim light, was a dark smear on the right wall at roughly chin height.
A hint of red.
Blood. Fresh blood, at that.
Not good.
But was it Noah’s?
I continued forward, staying close to the left wall, watching the pale pavers that lined the alley. A blood trail dotted it, sporadic but clear. Either someone was injured and moving, or they were dragging something that was bleeding.
If Enzo or any of the Fenix members who were against Noah discovered he’d planned a meeting with us, they might have snatched him. Which meant—
A footstep sounded behind me.
I spun, raising my Glock to—
Scarlett’s hands flew up in front of her, her eyes wide. “Just me.”
“Tabarnak,” I hissed, lowering my gun. “I told you to stay in the car.”
“You were taking too long,” she whispered, moving closer. She pointed to the nearest bloodstains on the pavers. “You think that’s Noah’s?”
“I forgot my DNA kit in my other pants,” I said, causing her to roll her eyes.
I gestured for her to stay behind me. “We need to pull back. This meet’s a bust.”
She shook her head. “If that’s Noah’s blood, he could be in trouble.”
“Or it’s bait,” I countered.
“He wouldn’t set this up. Not this way.”
“You don’t know that.” I glanced over my shoulder, checking for movement. Finding none, I turned back to her. “He’s changed since he worked with us. You have to stop assuming everything based on his old patterns.”
“I know how to read people, Rav.”
“Except him.” I should have kept that inside, but she needed to hear it. “You’ve had a blind spot for him since he showed up in Venice. Calisse, Scar, but he’s your kryptonite. My job is to keep you safe, and if you insist on going after him, I’ll have to…”
What? I’d always followed her lead. Always trusted her. But she was getting careless, like coming to the same secret meeting two days in a row with the most manipulative prick I’d ever met.
“Have to what?” She cocked her eyebrow.
I pointed over her shoulder, in the direction we’d come from. “You’re too exposed here. Get back to the car.”
Rather than turn around like someone who’d listen to her head of security, Scarlett simply kept the eyebrow up. That meant, ‘I’m not going anywhere, and you know it.’
Of course, I knew it.
“Do you listen to Malcolm any better than you listen to me?”
Her irritating eyebrow fell into its normal position, and her head jerked back slightly.
The question had hit a nerve.
I tapped my forehead with my gun’s slide. “That’s why you stayed home for the Monaco job, isn’t it?”
“You thought it would be—”
“Malcolm thought it would be too dangerous, so you stayed home.” I’d thought she was still listening to my recommendations. But her decision had been all about Malcolm.
She’d trusted me for years to keep her safe. When we went to Monaco, and the whole team was worried Noah would be there and try to find her, I’d strongly suggested she stay home. She’d argued, but conceded.
But it had nothing to do with me.
“You’ve been stringing me along,” I said.
Scarlett put one hand on her hip. “You’re being melodramatic.”
“I am not.” It was all so clear suddenly. I was little more than her mark, being manipulated exactly the way Noah was manipulating her. “You trust him more than me.”
“Rav, I’m going to marry the man. Trust kinda goes along with that.”
“In your relationship. This…” I waved my free hand around vaguely, as though I could encompass everything Scarlett and I had been through. “This is work. We have roles. Structure. You plan the missions; I ensure you’re safe.”
“The team,” she said softly.
What did that mean?
“Your job is to ensure the entire team is safe. But you’re too focused on me.”
“Because you’re the one who”—I pointed over her shoulder again—“is supposed to be sitting in the car with Zac, but you’re too stubborn to do it. Everyone else on the team would have listened to me.”
She ignored my comment. “You didn’t tell Emmett it was too dangerous for him to go to Monaco, but he’s the one who was kidnapped in the spring. Wasn’t his presence more of a risk than mine would have been?”
That was why he was supposed to room with me while we were in Monaco. So I could keep an eye on him and ensure his PTSD didn’t tank our job.
Before I could respond, a metallic clang echoed from somewhere beyond the end of the alley. She froze, but I spun back around, ensuring I was between her and whatever made the noise. Glock raised and at the ready.
“Noah?” Scarlett called softly.
No response. Just the whisper of the wind and the distant sound of traffic.
If it was a trap, we’d been standing around arguing for at least five minutes, giving away our position. I’d been distracted again.
The memory of his car going off the bridge flashed through my brain. How I’d restrained Scarlett when her control completely snapped, and she’d flailed as though she were about to jump out of the car to go and rescue him. How I’d held her afterward, when the panic had devolved into grief.
I’d left him to fend for himself. I should have been at the wheel of that car.
But I’d been distracted by Scarlett running out of the building.
I wouldn’t be distracted now.
I’d do my job.
Leaning back and turning my head, I kept my eyes on the end of the alley as I whispered, “Stay fucking put, and I’ll check. If anything happened, you run for the car. Got me?”
“Got you.”
This time, I believed her.
I moved with purpose, gun at the ready.
Slow steps.
Approach the end of the alley.
Scan the grassy area beyond.
Check the blood trail.
Retract the gun.
Fast motion—round the corner and extend the gun.
Pivot.
Clear.
Nothing but tire tracks leading down a dirt road that skirted the back of the buildings.
I retraced my steps, moving backward, keeping my gun aimed down the alley. The process would have been smoother with Percival or one of the other Pendragon operators with me, but I made do.
“Sit rep?” asked Scarlett.
I holstered my weapon as I turned, pointing over her shoulder. “I’ll tell you in the car.”
She moved with me. Although she didn’t have much of a choice. Her need to know what happened forced her to move. And if it hadn’t, I’d have thrown her over my shoulder.
As we passed the smear on the wall, I paused. The blood was fresh but not dripping—an hour old, at least, not minutes. The timing coincided with Noah’s arrival, if Scarlett was right about him arriving a half-hour early.
I hurried Scarlett across the small courtyard, to where Zac waited in the car, attempting to cover both our forward momentum and our rear. Before I got in, I opened Scarlett’s door for her, while checking over my shoulder one more time.
Was it all a game? Or was Noah truly in trouble this time?
“Go,” I said to Zac as I closed my door.
Zac drove down the narrow road, heading for the highway that would lead us back to Montechiaro. “Noah?”
“No sign of him.”
“There was blood,” said Scarlett.
“Fuck,” Zac muttered, scanning the area. “Trap?”
“Maybe.” I craned in my seat to see out the back window. Not that I had to. We had our best driver with us, who had a knack for monitoring follow cars half a click away. “There was a trail of blood droplets that ended near some tire tracks behind the service buildings.”
“Tire tracks? If he was hurt before the meeting, he wouldn’t have just driven away.” Scarlett pulled out her phone, no doubt checking for a message from Noah. “Something’s wrong.”
As we turned onto a wider and busier road, I stopped staring out the back. “They know he was acting against them. It’s the only explanation that fits.”
Scarlett let out a slow breath, an uncharacteristic sign of stress. “If Enzo found out he was feeding us information…”
Then Noah was in a lot of trouble. He’d already risked his position with Fenix to save our team members more than once. But if Enzo had cause to believe Noah wasn’t only saving our lives, but actively working against Fenix?
Noah had used us for his own ends. But he’d also warned us about the demonstration. About the danger to innocent lives.
“We stick to the plan,” I said. “Use what Noah already gave us. But we need to proceed as if Fenix knows we’re coming.”
“Shit.” Scarlett’s phone rang. “It’s Drew. I’ll put him on speaker.”
The moment the call connected, Drew’s hurried voice came through: “Get to Pompeii. We’ve got movement in the tunnels.”