The Enemy's Kiss. Zandria Munson
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She tossed him a look over her shoulder, her brows drawn in a frown. “I don’t have the rune and there’s no way I’m going there without it.”
“You will lead me to this location, but not under the pretense of delivering the rune,” he told her. “I wish to see this drop-off point that you speak of.”
“I don’t think so,” she shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t some game of cops and robbers. These men will kill me if they even suspect that I’ve betrayed them.”
He leaned in closer, the heat of his body searing a hole through the clothes at her back. “There you are wrong. This is a game—one that you initiated and one you will see to its end.” He spoke evenly, but it was clear that he would abide no objections.
Daniela remained silent for a moment, definitely not liking the way things were progressing. Going to any drop-off unannounced and empty-handed was risky. She wouldn’t only be placing herself in danger, but also those closest to her. She knew all too well the kind of people she did business with. They were a dangerous group and were loyal only to the highest bidder. And when they were crossed they stopped at nothing, cutting down everything and anything in their paths until they got what they wanted. She would never forgive herself if anything ever happened to the people she loved.
Yet there was no way she was going to jail either. All in all, she had no easy way out of this. She would continue to go along with whatever he asked until she could make a run for it.
Daniela’s head fell against the cool stone wall and she sighed in resignation. “Fine, I’ll take you there.”
A deep groan rumbled within his chest as he acknowledged her acquiescence. It passed through her rib cage and slid up her spine. At that moment he slipped his finger from the binds of her thong and the strap retracted with a snap.
The heat of his body left her as he stepped back. Slowly, she turned to face him. He stepped to one side and motioned for her to lead the way out of the room, his eyes daring her to try something. Reluctantly, Daniela moved forward. Her heart was drumming. She steeled herself to remain calm, but something told her that this was going to be a very long night.
Chapter 3
Daniela pulled the motorcycle helmet off and exhaled a slow breath as she freed her hair. The ride to the drop-off point had been more than uncomfortable since she’d been forced to sit astride the sleek black motorcycle behind her captor. She’d been careful to avoid as much physical contact as possible, but with less than an inch between them that had proven to be an impossible task.
She slid from the rear of the motorcycle and turned her attention to the lights that could be seen flickering several yards beyond the trees. They were from the Branch-ovan Monastery. She’d scouted it earlier in the day, yet the ghastly structure still sent shivers coursing down her spine. Nestled at the base of a sloping hill, it was surrounded by a forest on one side and the lifeless expanse of a shadowy lake on the other. Centuries ago it had been a place of holy devotion, and now it served as a storage facility and exchange point for stolen goods.
Within the shrouding darkness of the trees, her captor’s silhouette appeared at her side. Nicholas, he’d said his name was. She’d given him her name, not that it mattered anyway. He’d returned the majority of her possessions to her, but kept her cell phone and she was certain his intent was to learn her true identity.
Ignoring the odd fluttering at the pit of her stomach as he drew nearer, she put on her night-vision binoculars. Several of the monastery’s windows were illuminated and she could see several men inside, stacking and moving crates around.
“I don’t know how you think you’re going to get in there. The place is crawling with security,” she told him.
Nicholas eased a branch aside and fixed his attention to the structure below. “By the design I feel safe to assume that it is more than several hundred years old. It was considered essential to have an alternate and hidden point of access as no one was exempt from the savage sieges that had plagued the land. Not even those of the cloth.” He let the branch fall back into place. “Come, we will find another entrance.”
Daniela fixed him with a questioning look. “We? I never agreed to go down there with you.”
His gaze fell over her. “You agreed to take me to the place you were instructed to deliver the rune.”
“And I did. Why do you think we’re here? For sightseeing?”
The delay in his response lingered a moment longer than it should have; with the darkness to obscure the emotion on his face, she wondered if she was crossing the line of his good graces.
“Should I so readily accept the words of a thief? One whom I found stealing her way into my family’s home?” He moved closer, swallowing any space between them. “We are going into the monastery. Please do not mistake this for a request.”
Daniela’s eyes narrowed on him as she fought the retort that was fast climbing within her throat. He towered above her, his face partially illuminated by a slanted bar of light that had stolen access through the trees. Emerald eyes flashed. He looked dangerous. Not one to be crossed.
Without waiting for her response, he moved toward his motorcycle and removed the keys then the huge crossbow that was strapped to one side. He stalked past her to begin the descent down the steep hill. Daniela glared after him, her temper mounting. Had she known he expected her to accompany him on whatever insane mission he had planned, she would’ve attempted an escape long before now. But it was too late. They were miles away from anything and with no vehicle at her disposal any such move would be foolish. She was here and would have to comply with his wishes. Reluctantly, she sighed and kept to the cover of the trees as she followed him.
It wasn’t long before they reached the back of the monastery. Surrounded by tall and ancient trees that yawned into the night and shrouded the towering walls, it was no less welcoming. The scent of earth, moist and decaying, hung about them. Daniela inhaled a shaky breath and blamed the racing of her heart on the steady pace of her descent.
Nicholas stood a few feet from her, his eyes combing the base of the wall as if they could penetrate the heavy shadows. He bent and brushed the leaves from a spot on the ground before scooping up a handful of soil.
“The land here is low,” he spoke quietly. “If there is a passage beneath the monastery it would no doubt be saturated by the lake.” He discarded the soil and moved to another spot.
Daniela watched with curiosity as he repeated this again. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but admire the easy grace with which he moved. Their confrontation was still burned within her mind and she found herself wondering where he’d acquired his skills. Of course he was of noble birth—that would explain his swordsmanship. There was no training money couldn’t buy, but there was something more about him that made her curious; something that hinted to a deviant or less than normal lifestyle. Whatever it was, she was certain it wasn’t done out of need. It was obvious that Nicholas Drakon hadn’t needed anything in his entire life, except maybe a good timeout.
“Here,” he said and beckoned her to him. “The soil is overly damp. There must be a passage that runs to the other side.”
Daniela knelt and tested the soil for herself. He was right. The soil was nearly mud. Even the leaves that were strewn