Gail Barrett - Heart of a Thief

The hunt was on.

And that’s exactly what this was, a manhunt. Anger knifed through him, like talons clawing his gut. They’d set him up tonight. Chosen him. Baited and trapped him like some weak, defenseless prey.

And now they intended to kill him.

They could think again.

He curled his hands, thinned his lips, felt the muscles bunch in his jaw. They’d played him for a fool, flayed his pride. But he was a survivor. He’d battled his way out of the ghetto, scrapped for every crumb he’d had.

And he would fight this war to win.

His stride lengthening, he closed the distance to the end of the palace, turned the corner and stopped. The light hazed over the rock-strewn ground to the point where the slope dropped off. If they made it past the edge, no one would see them. But then they’d still have to climb down the cliff.

Sofia limped up beside him and stopped. “You want to go down this?” Her voice rose. “Is there even a path?”

His gaze met hers, and he shook his head. “It’s not as steep as it looks. We’ll stay to the side where the bushes are.”

She gnawed her lip. Her eyes stayed frozen on his. Then she jerked her gaze to the cliff.

“They’ll have the other routes blocked. There isn’t another way.”

“I know.”

He knew she was scared. He didn’t blame her. The descent would be tough in the dark.

But then she lifted her eyes to his. “So who goes first?”

And without warning, a sliver of warmth stole into his chest. She’d been shot, chased, injured, scraped—but she was still willing to climb down that cliff.

Oh, hell. He yanked his gaze away. He didn’t want to admire her. He didn’t even want to like her. And he sure didn’t want to feel that connection to her again, that link.

The physical attraction was bad enough. But he could handle that. He could keep those feelings cornered, contained, battened safely in a distant place.

But that fusing of minds, that need…Never again. No way.

Furious at himself, he wrenched his mind back to the cliff. “I’ll go first.” The words came out harsh, and she blinked. “Wait until I’ve started down, then run to get past the light. And try not to make any noise. We don’t want to attract the guards.”

Someone shouted from the rooftop then. The sirens grew closer, then cut off abruptly. His body tensed. They had to do this now. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go.” His adrenaline surging, he crouched and sprinted to the edge of the cliff. Then he slowed, grabbed a bush for balance, picked out a path, and stepped off. Stones slid beneath his feet, but he kept moving, dropping from one foothold to the next, lowering himself away from the edge. When he’d passed safely beyond the light, he stopped.

His breath sawed the air. His pulse drummed a ragged beat. He’d made it. Now it was Sofia’s turn.

He watched her as she hurried toward him, doubled over and limping badly, anxiety and pain carved on her face. She slowed and gripped the same bush he had, pivoted to start down. But then her injured leg buckled. She stumbled toward him and gasped. His heart thudding, he leaned forward to block her fall.

“Easy,” he murmured as she thumped against him. Pebbles slid loose and bounced around them, and he struggled to keep them from plunging down.

“I’m all right,” she whispered when she’d found her balance. But her back was rigid, and she was pulling out the roots on that bush.

And that sliver of admiration, that traitorous warmth around his heart, increased.

He eased his hands from the cliff, keeping his motions slow to calm her. “Okay,” he said. “I’m going down now. Watch me and step where I do.”

“But I can’t see.”

“Don’t look at the lights. Let your eyes get used to the darkness.” A trick he’d learned as a kid, stealing through the night. “Better?”

“Yes,” she whispered, but her breath hitched.

“Good. Now follow me. Take your time. Don’t rush, even if you hear any noise.”

Hoping she wouldn’t hurry and fall—especially if those guards gave chase—he reached for another branch. He tugged it to make sure it would hold his weight and scooted down the hill a few more steps. He glanced back, relieved to see that she’d followed, then returned his attention to the cliff.

He stuck to the safest route, choosing caution over speed for Sofia’s sake. But while his progress down the hill was slow, questions about the night careened through his mind. Who shot the royal Roma couple? Were the killings related to the theft? And why steal the necklace tonight when the entire world was watching?

The news would create a media frenzy, no doubt—royals murdered, priceless treasure stolen, Romanistan pushed to the brink of war. And as if that weren’t sensational enough, there was the curse.

He grimaced, skirted a boulder and grappled for another handhold. Of course, the curse was nonsense.

But there was one fact he couldn’t deny—he’d been involved in this mess for a reason. What that reason was, he didn’t know. He’d have to unravel that once they were safe.

He inched around another section of rock, then realized he could make out shadows beneath him. They’d nearly reached the bottom. Now they just had to get up the opposite hill and they’d be on the open road.

He turned back, intending to tell Sofia, but a small stone bounced past his face. He glanced up, blinked as dirt rained onto his head. Sofia let out a muffled cry.

She hurtled toward him, and his lungs froze. He reached out to try to block her, but her momentum knocked him back. He grunted, fell—Sofia with him—into the empty space.

He flailed, unable to latch onto anything, then slammed to the rocky earth. His shoulder and back took the impact, but he didn’t slow. Instead, he skidded downward, crashing through bushes, knocking more stones loose, grabbing at anything he could.

He finally smacked against a boulder and stopped. Sofia rammed into him a moment after, knocking the wind from his lungs. He wheezed and bit off a groan.

For several heartbeats, neither moved. Sofia moaned and clutched her head. “Luke, are you all right?”

“Yeah.” Although his back ached, and his shoulder burned. He blinked the dirt from his eyes and rolled to his knees. A wave of dizziness made him suck in his breath.

Still dragging at air, he stumbled to his feet and rotated his bruised shoulder to test it. Then he reached down to help Sofia up.

But then a bright light slashed the sky, and his breath stopped. Searchlights. Oh, hell. Just what they didn’t need.

“Come on,” he urged her. “¡Rápido!” His pain forgotten, he grabbed Sofia’s hand and yanked her to her feet. Then he hauled her up the short, steep hill, dragging her, not giving her time to slow down. “Faster. Faster!” The guards would see them at any time.

Shouts came from the palace behind them. The searchlight skipped past, barely missing them as it swept the ravine.

Knowing every second counted, Luke ran flat-out, pulling Sofia harder. His thighs burned. His lungs heaved. But they were exposed now, out in the open. They had to take cover fast.

They crested the hill, and he glanced around wildly, searching for a safe place to hide. But then a deep thrumming sound filled his ears. Vibrations drummed the ground beneath him, and he jerked his gaze to the sky.

His heart stopped. A police helicopter. Could their luck get any worse?

Still towing Sofia, he sprinted across the road toward some bushes while his desperation surged. The rotors pulsed louder, closer. The air around them throbbed.

“In here,” he shouted to Sofia, but the deafening noise swallowed his voice. He dropped her arm and shoved through the dense, prickly branches. Thorns snagged his sleeves, clawed his face, but he lunged past them, battling them out of the way to help her crawl inside.