Palik nodded. “I’m already on it.” He stood up and headed for the door. “What time do we leave?”
“A few hours. I’ll call you.”
“Right. Get some sleep. Oh, I have something for you.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a striped gray silk necktie. “You wanted something belonging to Luca from the Villa Silvano.” He pitched the tie to Caleb and then stood at the door staring at him. “I did good, didn’t I? You didn’t expect this much. In fact, I was superb.”
“You were superb,” Caleb said. “I always expect that of you, Palik.” He smiled faintly. “But perhaps you were a trifle extraordinary this time. Have you ever considered becoming a hunter?”
He shuddered. “Lord, no.” He hurriedly closed the door behind him.
Caleb’s smile vanished. He should lie down and rest, though he seldom slept much when he was on the hunt. He was always too charged. He could feel that electricity generating through him now as his mind went over all the options Palik had brought to light with his in-depth research of Davron. Let it go for now. By the time he reached Rome, he’d know which way was best.
His gaze wandered over this suite that Palik said Davron had also occupied. Palik had no doubt thought he might want to look around it for any clues, and he hadn’t disillusioned him. But he’d known he wouldn’t find anything of value in this hotel room. It had been too long since Davron had stayed here.
Instead he’d wanted to get the essence, the feel of the man. The scent and the presence lingered for many days, sometimes weeks, after someone left an enclosed area like a hotel room. The presence was the most important. Most of the time he could identify ingrained habits and memorize the essentials that drove the prey just from deciphering the presence he radiated.
And Stefano Luca had also been here for that one night. He stroked the silk tie Palik had thrown him. Then he set it aside.
Davron first. He closed his eyes and concentrated, eliminating the more recent spores until he reached a solid block at the appropriate time that Davron had been here. Four days…
He let it flow over him…
It took a relatively small time to get everything he needed from Davron. Then he concentrated on Luca, purposely ignoring the silk tie until he was finished with the room.
Nothing.
He tried again.
Nothing. But Palik had been certain Luca was here. Caleb should be able to sense him, identify everything about him.
Or maybe not. Luca’s sole reason for being here had been to take those photos of Jane from the balcony. Caleb crossed the suite, pushed open the drapes, and went out on the balcony.
Overwhelming.
The presence and scent were all around Caleb, clinging to the drapes and to the wood that framed the glass panels on the French doors. Caleb didn’t have the slightest doubt that it was Luca. He must have been out here almost all the time he’d been in the suite, staring at Jane’s balcony. Caleb couldn’t imagine that Jane had stayed out there on her balcony all that time, so he must have chosen to just stand there, watching, drinking in the closeness and the fact that she wasn’t aware of his presence.
And that presence was stunningly overpowering and dark.
Yes, it was definitely Stefano Luca.
So come to me, bastard. He took the silk tie in both hands, shut his eyes, and concentrated, letting the darkness and the power flow over him, into him. Come on, Luca. You can’t escape me. I’m going to stay here a long time until I know everything about who you are, how you’ll react. Until I am you.
And then I’ll be ready to come and get you…
Chapter
9
Kendrick Castle
Jane.” Lisa was shaking her. “For God’s sake, wake up.”
Jane opened her eyes sluggishly to see Lisa’s face above her. Scared…She looked so scared. Why would she—
“Good, you’re awake.” Lisa’s arms were around her and she was helping her to sit up. “Don’t lie back down. It took me forever to wake you. You almost sent me around the bend.” She drew a deep breath. “Now, are you okay? You were crying and whimpering like a baby, and when I tried to wake you up, you just lay there like an effigy on a tomb. Were you having a nightmare?”
“I don’t think so. Or maybe I was. It’s all a blur…” She ran a shaking hand through her hair. “I don’t remember anything but a terrible horror and…sadness…an overwhelming sadness.”
“I’d say that qualifies as a nightmare.” Lisa opened a bottle of water and handed it to her. “And I’m glad that I was here instead of Michael.” She made a face. “It might have scared him just like it did me.”
“I’m sorry. But I’m fine now.” It wasn’t true; she was still feeling lethargic and numbingly heavy. She took a drink of water and glanced at her watch. “It’s only a little after four. Why don’t you try to go back to sleep?”
Lisa nodded. “I will. We both will. As soon as I tuck you in.”
“Lisa.”
“Shut up. I’m doing my job.” She took the water bottle from Jane and pushed her back down in her sleeping bag. “But I don’t see how you can be comfortable with all these sketches around you. Did you go to sleep working on them?”
“Sketches?” She raised herself on her elbow, watching Lisa as she gathered several drawings scattered on the floor around Jane’s sleeping bag. “No, they were on the camp chair.”
Lisa shook her head. “I don’t recall a windstorm blowing through the tent last night, so you must not be remembering correctly.” She finished picking up the loose sketches and opened the sketchbook. “Those dig sketches are still in here, it’s these other four that were on the floor.” She frowned. “The ones with the storm. But I don’t remember you doing more than that one.”
“I didn’t.” Jane frowned as she took the sketches from Lisa and started to flip through them. Then she stopped flipping, frozen, as she stared at the second sketch. “Dear God.”
“What is it?” Lisa moved closer, trying to see.
“The tower,” she said hoarsely. “Look at the tower. It’s not the same as the first one I drew.”
“No.” Lisa leaned closer. “It’s not.” Her index finger traced the outline of the cross fastened on the massive door of the tower. “It’s a crucifix. You drew this, Jane?”
“Of course I didn’t.” But she knew even as she spoke that it probably was her work. She recognized every stroke. The sketch had been drawn as if she had been walking toward the tower and was still a good distance away. “Perhaps. I don’t see how I could—” She stiffened in horror. Because her eyes were narrowed in horror on the crucifix itself. She could barely make out what might be a figure nailed in agony on that crucifix.
Might. Maybe it wasn’t what she feared it was, she thought frantically. She couldn’t clearly make it out. It was a distant rendering, as if she was walking toward the tower.
But there were two more sketches. If she’d been walking toward it, wouldn’t she have gotten closer?
She dropped the first sketch on the floor.
She flinched. The second sketch was nearer to the tower, the details of the crucifix more defined, and it had to be a figure writhing in agony on that cross though that figure was still only a shadowy blur.
“Jane, stop!” Lisa said, reaching out to grab her hand. “I don’t like where this is going. It isn’t good.”
“No.” Jane brushed her hand away. “But I can’t tell…I can’t see enough. I have to get closer.”
She dropped the second sketch.
And she saw who was on the crucifix.
“Dear God.” She bent double, her stomach cramping as the sketch slipped from her hand. “No. No. No.”
“Shh.” Lisa was there, holding her in her arms and rocking her. “I told you not—Never mind. I hate people who say I told you so. Oh, shit, you’re crying.” She pushed her away to look down at her and then was wiping Jane’s cheeks with a tissue she’d pulled out of the box beside the sleeping bag. She th
rust the tissue at Jane. “You’d better do it yourself. I never like anyone to see me this vulnerable except Caleb.” She froze. “Caleb. Is it something about Caleb?”
Jane shook her head. “No.” She had to get control of herself. “It’s a little boy.” Her voice broke, and she waited a moment before she could speak again. “It’s a little boy that I drew on that cross.”
“What?” Lisa snatched up the sketch and looked at the crucifix. “Damn,” she whispered. “What the hell, Jane. Why?”
“How am I supposed to know? I didn’t even know I was doing it.” She closed her eyes. “It could be nothing, right? Just some sick, twisted reaction to Luca and the craziness that’s going on around me. Maybe I’ve been so worried about Michael that I drew him on that…” Her eyes flew open. “No,” she said fiercely. “I would never have done that. It can’t be Michael. I can’t even bear the thought. I’d have had to be really insane, and I won’t accept that.” She held out her hand. “Give me the sketch. I have to look at the boy again. I don’t believe he even looks like Michael.”
“He doesn’t,” Lisa said as she reluctantly handed her back the sketch. “He appears to be a year or so younger and his hair is longer, thicker, and black. And you shaded his complexion to a darker tone. It’s not Michael, Jane. You don’t have to look at it again.”
“Yes, I do.” She braced herself and stared down at the sketch. She felt another wave of sickness. No, this child bore no resemblance to Michael, she had never seen him before. But it didn’t change the fact that he was a child in pain; the agony of his body language was unmistakable. She thrust the sketch back at Lisa and said unsteadily, “You’re right. It wasn’t anxiety that was tricking me into drawing Michael. So I just have to assume I might be losing it.”
“Or that it might be something else,” Lisa said quietly. “It’s not the first time that you woke from sleep and drew someone you’d never met before. That’s how you met me all those years ago. I was in trouble and calling out.”
“That was different,” Jane said curtly. “You were Caleb’s sister. Naturally I would have felt drawn to help you. It’s not as if this happens to me all the time.”
“No, not all the time. But everyone knew you were dreaming about Cira, MacDuff’s ancestress, from the time you were seventeen. And lo and behold you found her treasure and saved MacDuff’s family.”
“There were other people on that hunt. Okay, sometimes I have weird dreams. But that’s nothing. Stop speaking as if I have any special gifts. There’s no way I’m psychic. I’m not like you or Caleb or Michael.”
“No, of course not, your feet are firmly planted on the ground,” she said gently. “Nothing in the least different about you, you’re a realist to the core.”
“That’s right.”
“Except sometimes you have dreams…”
“Everyone has dreams. I told you, I didn’t have a nightmare tonight.”
“No, it was closer to a heart attack,” Lisa said dryly. “And then you went into a panic. Because you knew you were experiencing something that was scaring you to death. Stop denying it, Jane. Why are you doing that? You didn’t hide away when you thought I needed someone to help me. You went after me and didn’t stop until you had me safe.”
“Because this time it’s different. I don’t know what’s happening, dammit. That poor child…” She drew a shaky breath. “And I’m afraid it’s already happened. It has to be Luca. That crucifix is his trademark. And if he’s already done it, why didn’t I get a chance to stop it?” Her hands clenched in frustration. “It doesn’t make sense if there’s any reason at all why I have those idiotic dreams. Why show me something terrible and not let me keep it from happening? With you, I could change things, I could do something.”
“Is that all that’s bothering you?” Lisa said, relieved. “Caleb will help bring him down. You won’t have to do anything.”
“Rely on Caleb, rely on you, rely on MacDuff and Scotland Yard? It goes on forever,” Jane said wearily. “I remember Michael told me that he knew there were monsters out there. And it has to be a monster who would do something like this. I’m the one who drew this horror, so maybe it means I should do something about him.” Her jaw clenched and her voice lowered to a whisper. “But if it does, then please don’t make me go through this. Don’t kill that child to show me. Don’t make me wait until it’s too late. Just let me go after him.”
“You sound like Caleb.” Lisa suddenly shivered. “And that’s not good for me. I’m supposed to be taking care of you. I don’t need you to get impatient and start thinking about stuff like that.”
“Why not? You would.”
“But that’s me. You’re the reasonable one, you’re the one who keeps us steady.”
“Then you’d better look for someone else to do that.” She got to her feet and clumsily pulled on her terry robe. “Because I don’t feel at all steady right now.” She headed for the door. “And I need some air. Don’t follow me, I don’t want either a bodyguard or company. I’m just going outside for a few minutes.” She didn’t wait for Lisa to protest but left the tent.
She took a deep breath of the cool night air and then slowly let it out. Better. She was still shaking, but the coolness helped a little. She settled a few yards from the tent so that Lisa could see her. It might be the only way she could maintain these few moments of privacy.
“I want to sit beside you. Is that okay?” It was Michael. He was in his pajamas and barefoot and was already dropping down beside her and cuddling close. “I’m a little chilly. Dad and I put out the campfire before we went to bed, but you’re nice and warm.”
So much for privacy. She put her arm around him and drew him close. “You should have put on your robe and slippers.”
“I wanted to get to you right away. I thought maybe you needed me.” He nestled his head on her shoulder. “It’s not okay right now, it’s sad. But we can make the rest okay. I think you can make it okay, Jane.”
“Can I?” She laid her cheek on his head. His chestnut hair was soft and slightly fragrant from his shampoo. Not like that other child’s hair, which was black and plastered around his terrified face. She felt a wrenching pain as the comparison flooded her. She didn’t know how Michael had sensed her disturbance, and she wasn’t going to ask him. She only hoped that he hadn’t been aware of that hideous moment when she’d seen that boy on the cross. “I’m sure you’re right, though sometimes it’s hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. But we’ll get there, Michael.”
“That man doesn’t want you to see any light,” Michael said soberly. “He wants to frighten you. He thinks if he keeps you frightened, he’ll make you weaker and you won’t fight him. You can’t let him see that you’re frightened, Jane. It will only make him stronger.” He frowned. “And he’s getting stronger all the time. I think he might be…changing. Getting darker…”
And Michael was picking up entirely too much from that monster. Yet she was going to be forced to ask him. “How do you know that, Michael?”
“I believe he’s thinking a lot about you, and it’s connected to everything else around him. It’s there whenever I feel anything about him.”
“But Caleb told me that you said you could only feel him when he was near. Has that changed?” She nervously moistened her lips. “You didn’t ‘feel’ anything about him tonight?”
He shook his head. “Only you. But I’m getting closer. Do you want me to try?”
“No!” she said adamantly, profoundly relieved. The last thing she wanted was to involve Michael in that hideous ugliness, even if it might confirm that that poor child was dead. “Forget it.”
“I thought you’d say that,” he said quietly. “It was bad for you tonight. That’s why I wanted to try to make it better.”
“And you did.” She brushed a kiss on his forehead. “Just seeing you made it better.” But she had a sudden thought. “You shouldn’t be here. Your dad will be worried if he wakes and find you gone.”
&nb
sp; “No, he won’t. I woke him and told him I had to go to you. He was fine with it. He only asked me if I wanted him to go with me. He said he’d be watching out for us.”
“I imagine he will,” Jane said. But Joe’s reaction was what she might expect given Eve and Joe’s relationship with Michael. Protective, but allowing him to have the space he needed because he was a very special child. She glanced at his tent next to Jane’s. “I bet he can hear the sound of our voices from there, but he won’t come out unless one of us calls.” She straightened and pushed Michael gently away from her. “But that’s no reason why we should keep him awake. You’ve done your duty and kept me company during a bad period. Now go back to bed. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
He hesitated. “You’ll go back to sleep, too? It would make Lisa feel better.”
“I’ll go back to bed in a few minutes.” She wouldn’t promise about the sleep. She added ironically, “We wouldn’t want Lisa to be upset, would we? She’s such a gentle soul.”
“Yes, she is,” Michael said absently. “She just won’t let you see it.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek and jumped to his feet. “Like I said, it’s sad and this part can’t be made okay. But you can make the rest okay.” He was running back to Joe’s tent. “Just don’t let him know you’re afraid…”
He was gone.
And she didn’t want to sit here and think about Luca or that tower or the fear of what that sketch of the little boy might mean. Maybe Michael was right about not showing fear. Maybe Luca could feed on it.
As he might have fed on the sight of that child on that bloody cross.
Please let it be a nightmare. Let that child be alive.
Or let her find a way to stop the monster before he could do anything like that again.
Yet she couldn’t sit here and do nothing. She had to know so that she could act.
Her hand was shaking as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed.
Caleb answered on the first ring. “What the hell’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. But I have to find out. Maybe it’s nothing. It’s not like any of the others.”