Zandria Munson - The Enemy's Kiss

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 in.

Daniela made an effort to keep her eyes averted from him. He’d never seen her face as she’d always worn her mask during drop-offs, but she didn’t want to take any chances. If by some twist of fate she did make it out of there alive, she didn’t want Cradle tracking down her friends and family.

She eased back another few steps, but was halted when the gunman raised his weapon.

“Stop right there,” he barked. “Who sent you here?” When she didn’t respond he cocked the gun. “I asked you a question.”

Before Daniela could provide a response, an arrow zipped through the air and penetrated the gunman’s right shoulder. He cried out in agony and the gun toppled to the floor. All eyes turned toward the top of the stairway just in time to see Nicholas leap over the banister. He landed effortlessly on his feet then brought the hind end of his crossbow square in the face of the man nearest him. With a cry the man stumbled backward and into a stack of crates.

It took the others only a few seconds to assess this new threat and one of the men snatched up the gun, aiming for Nicholas’s chest. Daniela intercepted his attack with a kick to the midsection that knocked the wind out of him. The gun went off and a sharp pain shot through her left thigh.

The fight that transpired after that could only be described as chaos. The three men who remained on their feet charged at them, wielding anything they could get their hands on. Daniela quickly put her martial arts training into use while Nicholas fired off two more arrows, disabling another opponent. He discarded his weapon then and went at it fist to fist with his next attacker.

Despite their present predicament, Daniela couldn’t help but admire the speed and agility with which Nicholas fought. He moved as a man who’d been well trained in the art of combat. His opponent was easily defeated and Nicholas snatched up his crossbow again, turning to watch as she finished her attacker with a blinding blow to the head.

Their eyes met as she remained kneeled over the motionless figure, forcing her breathing to assume a steady rhythm. He stared at her for a few seconds longer, his gaze hard and indiscernible. It was all Daniela could do not to flinch. She didn’t fear him and wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of thinking she did.

He didn’t bark orders at her as she’d expected. Instead, he turned and marched toward Cradle who was holding his wounded arm.

With his boot, Nicholas rolled Cradle over onto his back. “The Rune of Moloch, where is it?”

Cradle spat, sending a tooth bouncing to the floor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said as he tried to sit up.

Nicholas reached down and slipped an arrow from the quiver strapped to his leg. “It was given to you. Now where is it? This is your final opportunity to respond.” He positioned the arrow into the bow.

Daniela looked at her left thigh. She’d been shot. A small hole had been ripped into her leather pants and blood seeped through. She looked around quickly and spotted a large canvas drape that was piled on the floor. She crawled toward it and used Nicholas’s knife to cut a length of it which she then fastened tightly around her thigh, grimacing as the pain intensified.

She pushed herself to her feet and briefly considered another escape, but decided against it. Nicholas was clearly very skilled with the weapon he held. And with her injured leg she wasn’t likely to get very far. As for how a man of the twenty-first century had acquired such precision with an antique weapon, she couldn’t imagine. Nevertheless, his disposition was hardly one to be tested.

Cradle had managed to drag himself a few inches toward a stack of crates. His brow was furrowed in suspicion and his eyes darted to her and back. Daniela quickly averted her gaze, silently cursing Nicholas’s tactless interrogation. Few people knew that Cradle had collected the rune and she only hoped that the number was large enough to exempt her from suspicion.

Nicholas aimed his weapon and his finger eased on the trigger. A flash of lightning from outside illuminated the room and the lazy rumble of thunder quickly ensued. A storm approached.

Cradle eyed the man above him warily and a lump forced its way down his throat. “Hey, I only collected the item. I don’t know where it is now.”

“Who did you give it to?”

“I took it to a campsite about ten miles on the outskirts of Bucharest. I’d never been there before and never seen the two women I gave it to,” he admitted.

“Two women?” Nicholas questioned.

“Yeah,” Cradle continued as he repositioned himself, supporting his obviously deformed wrist with his uninjured hand. “Two broads. Twins by the look of them—real stiff-lipped Addams Family rejects.”

“And what were you given in exchange for the rune?”