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The Enemy's Kiss
Zandria Munson


When two different worlds collide, sworn enemies must choose whether to kiss or kill… The curse Nicholas Drakon had endured for centuries had finally been lifted. And although he no longer turned to stone at daybreak, his priority was still to protect his family. So when expert thief Daniela Ferreria stole an ancient Drakon artefact, he vowed to get back what belonged to his clan…and eliminate the threat.Upon capturing the intoxicating cat burglar, he discovered she was desperate to save her own sister’s life. The unexpected pull he felt for Daniela had Nicholas rethinking his next move. Family honour was at the core of his very being. But to turn his back on Daniela could mean losing the heart he’d just rediscovered.










“You are not alone in this, Daniela,” Nicholas said in a voice that was surprisingly very gentle.

“I made an agreement with you and I will see it to its end. But you will have to trust me.”

The ache in her heart was overwhelming. She could feel Nicholas’s arms moving about her and soon found herself encased within his warm embrace.

Despite herself, she clung to him. In his arms there was a certain security she’d never experienced before. She felt safe and protected. And as she listened to his words of promise, she believed him.

She nodded. “I’ll try.” Before she could stop herself, she looped her arms about his neck and closed the distance between them. She’d never needed anyone before, but right now she needed his warmth, his comfort, his protection.

She needed him.


Dear Reader,

The Enemy’s Kiss is the continuation of a romantic saga that follows the Drakon clan. My passion for these dark guardians of the night—gargoyles—has compelled me to dig deeper into the complex and intoxicating lives of the Drakon brothers.

Not too dissimilar from my first book for Nocturne™ that featured one of the Drakon brothers, Heiress to a Curse, I found my inspiration for this romance in dark and ancient places. Of late I have been visiting an old convent that is seemingly nestled away from civilization. With its lonely gardens and stone sculptures, it is the perfect location to allow one’s mind to wander far beyond mundane things.

I also found that such a place would make an excellent backdrop for a scene in this novel, and thus incorporated a monastery into it. I trust you will find Nicholas and Daniela’s story as spellbinding as the first.

Enjoy!

Zandria Munson




About the Author


ZANDRIA MUNSON was born and raised in the Bahamas on a beautiful island called New Providence. Her early education was enhanced by history and folklore lessons on pirates, mermaids, the Lost City of Atlantis and other fanciful topics. As a child she spent lazy summer days slipping in and out of her imagination. She started writing at thirteen.

Zandria attended the College of the Bahamas, where she obtained her degree in nursing. Along with her passion for storytelling, she harbors a driving need to help others. She presently lives in Texas with her husband, Christopher, and kitties Munchkin and Chloe.




The

Enemy’s Kiss



Zandria Munson







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For my adorable little mother, Martha.




Prologue


Romania, 1820

Fire raged throughout the city of Cetatea. The flames rose to scorch the midnight sky and choke the stars with its thick and blackened smoke. Nicholas Drakon stood on the rise that overlooked the large and once prosperous city. Shame enveloped him as he absorbed the cries of the innocent that were subdued only by the victorious shrieks of his clansmen; those who had gone against the principles set forth by Nicholas’s father, Lord Victor, leader of the Drakon clan.

Things hadn’t always been this way. There’d been a time of unity and peace, but that was long before they were all afflicted by the dreadful curse. The decades had passed and the rift within his clan had swelled, resulting in an outrageous battle of wills and the deaths of many innocents. Too long had these wayward members been allowed to proceed with mere warning and chastisement. The time had come to put an end to it.

Nicholas flexed his grip on the large sword he held. Over his shoulder he cast the thirteen warriors he led a look that warned them to be prepared. With the forms of hulking men and the faces of beasts, they were ready for the inevitable battle that lay ahead, dressed in heavy, intricately worked silver breastplates and bracers of matching quality encasing their wrists. They were slaves and lords of the darkness. Stone by day and gargoyle by night, they’d once been men, but were now damned for eternity.

At his back, Nicholas flexed great and taloned wings, ready for flight. From the hilltop adjacent to the one upon which he stood, his brothers Simion and Marius observed the holocaust. Simion raised a torch, signaling the commencement of the attack. Steel in his grip, Nicholas and his warriors took to the skies. Their mission was to capture as many of their own alive, but much blood would be spilled this night, he knew. His heart ached for the many who would fall dead by his hands, but this was no time for weakness. What had to be done must be done.

Fagara Castle, later

The vicious cries could be felt throughout the castle. They shook the walls and coursed through the stone floors. Nicholas, along with his father and brothers marched down the steps that lead to the dungeon entrance.

Chained to the walls were the remaining twelve defectors. Among them was the one called Gabriel. Once a man of honor and integrity, he’d become consumed by rage as the Drakon clan had been forced to abandon much of their lands and holdings. They’d been driven deeper into the forest to avoid being hunted by those who deemed their kind an abomination. His fury had swelled even more as Lord Victor had simply accepted this fate, choosing peace over violence. Gabriel had thus formed his own alliance with the intent to destroy any who threatened their family. He’d in turn become the greatest opposition of the Drakon clan; what was worse, he was the younger brother of Lord Victor.

Lord Victor moved to face his brother. With his massive wings beating against the damp air, Gabriel fought against the chains that bound him. But it was to no avail, for the chains, made from an alloy called titanium, had been purposefully fashioned for this function.

“Ah, brother,” Gabriel said with a venomous sneer. “I suspect you are pleased with yourself for slaughtering so many of your own.”

Lord Victor’s head fell a measure. “About as pleased as I am for what I am forced to do this night. I can no longer stand by and allow you to wreak havoc.”

Gabriel erupted in a loud, derisive laugh. “You speak as if I am at fault. Nay, brother. It is you who brought this curse upon us all.” He sobered, his eyes hard as he continued. “You and your lust for peasant flesh.”

Nicholas’s eyes narrowed upon his uncle as he steeled himself to remain as he was. It was no secret that the gargoyle curse had been brewed in a single night of lies and deception. Their mother had been a simple peasant girl when she’d captured Lord Victor’s heart, driving him to abandon a senseless betrothal. In a fit of rage, his wealthy and greedy intended bride, Lady Vivian, had spun a web of lies to her cousin Necesar, a powerful sorceress. Vivian had pleaded for vengeance, but even that hadn’t been enough to remedy her discontent. Anger had compelled her to a point of insanity, and in one final act of rage she’d torched her family’s castle, taking not only her own life but those of all who dwelled there.

And so, armed with the notion that Lord Victor had not only severed the betrothal after forcing himself on her cousin, but that he was also the one to be blamed for Vivian’s death, Necesar concocted a fierce spell, cursing the Drakon bloodline for all eternity.

Lord Victor looked weary. “No man should be made to suffer for the choices of his heart.”

“Aye,” Gabriel spat. “Just as an entire clan should not be punished for their leader’s irresponsible follies.”

Lord Drakon turned away then, his eyes solemn as he fastened a look upon the figure of a hunched and ageless woman who before had gone unnoticed. She advanced, her weathered face coming to rest upon Gabriel. She was called Agatha, and was a witch of the Ananovian clan. Dwellers of the hills of eastern Romania, this secluded race of witches had lent their assistance to the gargoyles for decades in return for protection. They were healers, not fighters, but their abilities were matched by none.

Agatha reached within her cloak and pulled forth two palm-sized flat, circular stones with hollowed centers. She kneeled, placing each onto the floor before her. Engraved with the sacred symbols of the Ananovian witch clan, they were called the Runes of Moloch and Cythe. They’d been harvested from the bowels of the earth and animated by the most powerful Ananovian warlocks. They were used in binding spells to contain spirits or souls of those who required captivity.

Before them, Gabriel wrenched at the chains, shaking the room once again with another fierce growl. “Sorcery! I see you have reached a new low, Victor!” he spat.

Lord Victor said nothing. He stepped back as the witch began to chant. A serpent-like stream of smoke crawled from beneath her cloak, swelling into a translucent cloud that quickly spun a web about the gargoyles who were fastened to the walls. They began to shriek and rip at the chains that bound them as the cold transformation to granite crept up their legs, snaking through their veins and freezing everything in its wake.

“Until we meet again, brother,” Gabriel spoke. A moment later he’d become a solid mass of stone.

Agatha retrieved the runes from the floor and handed them to Lord Victor. A veil of grief fell over his face before he accepted them.

“These runes bind their souls now,” Agatha spoke. “Destroy the stones and you will release your brother and his followers. They must be secured.”

Nicholas’s gaze strayed over the twelve statues, each frozen in a pose of rage and anguish. There was no question as to whether his father’s judgment had been deserved, for countless efforts had been made to reform the wayward gargoyles. Whether his father would choose to make it an eternal sentence, he didn’t know. Whether the world would ever be ready for Gabriel’s release was an even greater speculation.




Chapter 1


New York, present day

This was going to be easier than taking candy from a baby.

Daniela Ferreira adjusted the focus on her high-powered night-vision binoculars. She stood on the roof of the five-story building opposite the Langara gallery. From her vantage point, she could see directly into the wide glass windows that lined the front of the establishment. It was nearing 10:00 p.m and the owners were still busy unpacking crates of antiques. She had intended to hit a jewelry store tonight as well, but this was more important. Just within the walls of the gallery lay the item called the Rune of Moloch. It was said to be hundreds of years old and worth a hefty sum. From the illustrations she’d been given, it looked like nothing more than a flat rock. But then she never questioned a buyer’s interest in a particular item. She was hired to steal and deliver, and as long as she got paid for the task, she couldn’t care less about motives.

Stealing was a way of life for Daniela. It was her profession; a necessity for survival after her mother had walked out on her and her younger sister. Daniela had only been seventeen at the time. Ever since then she’d made a living robbing others. Her missions had gotten bigger and her equipment more advanced, but one thing hadn’t changed: she was still a thief.

Turning the knob on the top of the binoculars, she zoomed in on the two men who were still busy inside the gallery. They had removed their blazers and rolled up their shirtsleeves, and she could see the distinct outline of thick, corded muscles flexing beneath their shirts.

She’d heard of this pair; the Drakon brothers. They were renowned for their great business success and their incredible good looks. It seemed that the rumors served them justice. Tall and swarthy, they resembled the heroes of ancient Rome. Even from this distance their dark, chiseled features were unmistakable.

Lowering the device, she unsnapped the collar of her black leather catsuit—it was getting quite warm in the skintight attire. To distract herself, she reset the timer on her wristwatch. She’d done her research and knew full well that an advanced security system had been installed. Once inside the building, she’d have approximately five minutes to locate the Rune of Moloch, steal it and get the hell out of there before the police arrived.

When Daniela looked through the binoculars again, she noticed that a black Rolls Royce had pulled in front of the establishment. The driver held the door open as a woman exited. The woman moved carefully up the stone stairs in front of the building, no doubt hindered by the weight of her protruding abdomen.

Daniela’s mouth contorted with a wavering hint of jealousy. She briefly wondered if she’d ever find herself in such a state—pregnant and in a dress. At this rate, such a possibility seemed nonexistent. She was twenty-five and still a virgin.

Between conducting burglaries, evading the authorities and raising her sister, she simply had no time for men and their very expectant personalities. At least that’s what she told herself. Deep down inside she knew that she craved companionship.

She forced the thoughts from her mind and focused on the scene playing before her. The woman had entered the building and was immediately pulled into the embrace of one of the Drakon brothers. He placed an affectionate kiss on her lips before checking his watch.

Daniela couldn’t suppress the smile that crawled to her lips when he retrieved his blazer from the top of an unpacked crate and slipped it on.

She twisted her long, curly hair into a bun at her nape and pulled her black latex mask on. “Showtime.”

Nicholas Drakon pressed down on the crowbar until the lid of the small wooden crate creaked open. This was the last of them. The entire shipment had come from Romania and had arrived on schedule. The delivery consisted of twenty pieces from England, China and Spain, all dating back to the early 1500s.

He and his brother Marius had started the auction gallery a year and a half ago and had quickly obtained success. Some of the items had come from their family’s estate, which was presently being renovated, and the others were antiques that they acquired from various corners of the world.

Nicholas loved New York. His life in Romania had dwindled to routine boredom. This city had much to offer. He enjoyed the nightlife, the mixing of cultures and the many beautiful women who were willing to do anything to affiliate themselves with the wealthy. All of which he took complete advantage of.

The lid of the crate lifted and he eased it to the floor. He rummaged through the packing grass until he felt the smooth edges of the artifact that lay within. Carefully, he pulled it out and inspected it. The Rune of Moloch fit perfectly within the palm of his hand. For centuries it had been hidden within a secret chamber in his family’s castle while its twin, the Rune of Cythe, had been secured by his father. By Lord Victor’s orders the stones had always been kept apart, and if they were transported it was also done individually. As the castle was presently under renovations, Nicholas had decided to move the stone to a vault within the gallery to assure its security.

He turned to watch his brother standing next to his wife, who was busy admiring a collection of medieval jewelry. Marius was two years younger than him and about to be a father. Marius’s young and beautiful wife, Alexandra, looked radiant despite being eight months pregnant.

Nicholas picked up his blazer, not bothering to slip it back on. He had to admit that he often found himself battling the green tentacles of envy when he compared his life to his brother’s. Marius was married and in love. Nicholas habitually tried to convince himself that love and marriage weren’t for him. He was a self-proclaimed rogue and enjoyed every moment of it. There were just too many delectable women out there in need of his attention.

Alexandra turned her bright eyes to Marius as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket. “Oh, no, I can’t accept it,” she protested as he leaned over to open the showcase.

Nicholas shook his head and turned away to assess the work they’d done setting up the gallery. His brother was forever showering his wife with diamonds and emeralds, many of which were a part of their display and worth a hefty sum. If she saw something and took a fancy to it, then it was hers.

Nicholas snorted. He’d never doted on a woman so relentlessly. Then again, he and Marius were quite the opposite in most things. On the surface their relation was undeniable as they were tall, dark and striking—true to the Drakon bloodline. But Marius catered to their mother’s disposition and was patient, gentle and thoughtful. Whereas Nicholas was intolerant, demanding and forceful. Yet, somehow they managed to work together and maintain a lucrative business.

Nicholas stalked out of the showroom toward the large vault at the rear of the gallery. He had no intention of keeping the rune stone in New York permanently, only holding it in the vault until the renovations in Romania were completed. When that time came he would return it to his brother Simion, who’d chosen to remain in their homeland.

He quickly punched in the security code at the vault’s exterior door. He entered and did the same for the interior door. A small antique wooden box sat on one of the shelves to the right. He opened it carefully and set the rune inside. He left the room, securing the doors behind him.

When he returned to the showroom, Alexandra was lifting up her long black hair as Marius secured an elegant ninety-eight-carat sapphire necklace about her neck. Many years ago it had belonged to a countess. Now it would serve to accessorize the blue maternity dress Alexandra wore.

“Shall we be leaving soon?” he asked with a suppressed smirk.

“Yes,” Marius replied. He turned Alexandra to face him and smiled with satisfaction. “You look lovely.”

Her hazel eyes flashed with joy as she assessed her reflection in a small gilded mirror that sat on the top of the showcase. “It’s beautiful!” She sent Nicholas a wary yet friendly look. “What do you think?”

Nicholas nodded his approval and experienced a pang of guilt when she quickly looked away. She had every reason to fear him. He only hoped that one day she’d be able to overlook the great wrong he’d done her and learn to trust him. His brother offered him a very wan but encouraging smile. Only time and patience would procure those results.

Nicholas flinched as an ache shot along his right hand. Of late, on nights like this when his emotions took precedence in his mind, he often experienced the same crippling ache in his joints and tasted the putrid bile that had always accompanied his transformation.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, this unnerved him; a year and a half had passed since his family’s curse should’ve been broken. However, there were many nights that he missed the liberties he’d enjoyed as a gargoyle. Nothing could compare to soaring through a star-strewn sky and surveying the quiet lands below. But he’d had his fill of becoming stone. The short thirty days he’d enjoyed as a man each year during the spring equinox—a pagan season that was marked by the sun’s crossing over the celestial equator—hadn’t prepared him for the freedom associated with humanity.

Marius shot him a curious look. “I see old age has finally taken a toll on you,” he stated with a hint of amusement. “Perhaps you should consider a reprieve from all this.” He turned and guided Alexandra toward the doorway.

Nicholas flexed his right hand, trying to subdue the cramping that was fast moving up his arm. “I am no more an old man than you,” Nicholas returned with budding mirth.

His humor was short-lived as another ache shot up his arm and along his shoulders. He flexed his hand again. There was a chance that after so many years of enduring such a vicious cycle of being stone by day and gargoyle by night, his body was only lingering in its acclimation. Perhaps the dark creature he once was still lurked within him, looming in his subconscious, waiting to take possession. And if it was no longer being manipulated by the curse, then who or what was in command?

Daniela held her breath as she eased the two-inch-thick portion of glass out of place. She slid it to one side and detached the small suction device.

“Beautiful.” She exhaled as she paused to admire her handiwork.

She prided herself on always having a clean entry, and the hole she’d burned through the skylight was just that. She stuffed the small laser into her backpack and pulled out another device. About the size of a matchbox and called the Defragmenter, it had the ability to disable any low-powered security defenses within a twenty-foot radius: cameras, lasers, motion-triggered bars.

She activated it, slipped it through the hole and attached it to the underside of the glass. Her equipment was always top of the line; a necessity for the complexity of her work.

Daniela lowered the rope she’d bolted to the roof. The Defragmenter beeped, signaling its completion. She detached it and used the rope to lower herself to the floor. Once on the ground, she activated the earpiece connected to her cell phone.

The voice of her best friend and partner in crime, Mai, greeted her. “You in yet?”

“I’m in.”

She’d met Mai in New York’s Chinatown two months after her mother’s desertion. Mai had been a runaway, and it hadn’t taken long for Daniela to become entangled in unscrupulous behavior. However, Mai had also been the one to introduce her to the local dojo. The sensei, taking pity on them, had offered the girls free training, if only to aid them in protecting themselves. Daniela had become an avid student of an art that she’d also excelled in.

Daniela shot a quick look about and confirmed what she already knew—the gallery was deserted. She moved silently down the dimly lit hall and toward the heavy door of the vault. Mai had given her a complete blueprint of the building and she knew that a security fence lay behind the door. But she’d come prepared.

Pulling out her laptop computer and a small battery-powered screwdriver from her backpack, she glanced at her watch. Once she started tampering with the security control panel the alarm would be triggered; she was sure the Defragmenter wasn’t capable of disabling something so complex.

Mai’s voice invaded her ear again. “How are you doing?”

“Ready to infiltrate,” Daniela replied. “Looks like we’ve got some state of the art equipment here.”

She quickly unscrewed the four screws that held the metal plate to the wall. She started the timer on her watch then quickly clipped the wires that connected the main computer to the panel. She stripped them and connected them to wires that were attached to her laptop. Immediately, a password request appeared on the monitor.

“Ok, I need a seven digit code. Do your thing.”

“I’m on it.”

A moment later numbers leapt to the screen, scrolling left to right in a random order. Daniela placed her laptop on the floor and waited.

Having a partner certainly made things easier. Mai always worked behind the scenes, as that was where her talents lay. She made all the connections, cracked all the computer codes, communicated with clients and infiltrated Chinatown’s black market to purchase the latest in spy gear. The proceeds from every heist were always split fifty-fifty, and they used them for their own individual causes. Daniela chose to provide assistance to less fortunate families and children. She checked her watch just as the sound of locks being released could be heard. The heavy vault door eased open a crack. A smile crept to her lips. “Good job.”

Nicholas slammed the door of his silver Lamborghini and stormed up the gallery steps. He’d received a call from the police only minutes before arriving home; the gallery had been broken into.

His scowl darkened as he pushed past the officers guarding the front entrance and marched through the marble archway that led into the gallery’s vault. Marius stood at the exit, speaking with a detective.

Nicholas headed toward them. “What happened here?”

Marius looked up as he approached. “A thief entered through the roof only moments after we left. He disabled the cameras and was gone before the authorities arrived.”

“What has been taken?” he asked.

Marius shot the detective a look then Nicholas, his eyes reflecting a contained measure of discontent. “The only item missing is the Rune of Moloch,” he said.

Nicholas met his stare and uneasiness crept over him. He stepped around his brother to examine the tampered wires of the security panel. This had been no random act, he was sure. Why would any thief overlook all the priceless items within the gallery and steal only a stone with no apparent value? The heist had to have been contrived by one who knew the rune stone’s significance.

The detective spoke then. “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.” He extended a hand. “Detective Simmons.”

Nicholas shook his hand and the detective continued.

“We have reason to believe that the thief who robbed you tonight is the Midnight Bandit. He’s struck over twenty jewelry and antiques stores within the past year and his pattern is always the same—very clean entry, disables all secondary security devices within a twenty—or thirty-foot radius, hacks the main computer to gain access to the vaults, takes only one item and then disappears before the authorities arrive.”

“And you have no knowledge of who is committing these crimes?” Nicholas asked.

“None. The thief never leaves fingerprints, DNA evidence or even eyewitnesses. One thing’s for certain—this guy’s really meticulous. We’ve only been following leads, most of which turn up empty.”

“Have any of the stolen items ever been recovered?” Marius asked.

“Unfortunately, no. We have reason to believe they’re channeled through the black market and out of the country.”

Nicholas folded his arms across his broad chest. “So this �Midnight Bandit’ has been rampaging through the city for an entire year and yet you have no answers or solutions to offer?”

The detective’s gaze flitted to Marius and back. “We just don’t have the manpower to watch every potential target in this city. It’s impossible. There’s no budget for it. So we’ve been encouraging business owners like yourselves to take additional measures to protect your properties. It makes our job a little easier.”

One of Nicholas’s dark brows shot up. “And still you have yet to make progress?”

Marius cleared his throat. “I am certain you are doing everything you can. We will do whatever is necessary to assist you with your investigations.” He sent Nicholas a pointed look.

Nicholas inclined his head and said no more. He allowed Marius to continue the interview while he headed toward the back of the gallery. He looked at the neat hole that had been left in the skylight above. The glass, he knew, was two inches thick. His gaze fell to the marble floor, combing it for any pieces that may have fallen, but found nothing.

He strayed over to the wide glass windows and his gaze locked on to a point on the roof of the building across the street. They had no doubt been watched. His trepidation mounted. Somehow someone had learned that the rune would be delivered on that day and had devised a plan to steal it. Nicholas had been careful to keep news of its transport among only those who needed to know. This could mean only one thing: someone within their clan couldn’t be trusted.

“Must you always be so embarrassing?” Marius’s reflection appeared in the glass before him.

Nicholas shot him a glance over his shoulder. “One of the sacred runes has been stolen. I do not think my behavior warrants objection. There was a time when a thief stood no chance against the law. He was apprehended and sometimes beheaded right on the spot.”

“In case you have not noticed, things have changed. Public decapitations would be sorely frowned upon. It is called being civilized. You would do well to embrace it.”

He turned to face Marius. “The matter of this missing rune should not be taken lightly, brother. If it is so much as damaged the spell can be broken.”

Marius looked pensive. “Father will not be pleased to hear of this. That secret has been buried within our family for many centuries. Whoever stole it must know of its importance.”

Nicholas flexed his neck as a sudden ache began to move down his spine. “There are two possibilities. He intends only to attempt to harvest the power of the stone, for the knowledge of runes has not yet been forgotten. Or he is preparing to conjure the dark and ancient magic that retains the souls of our uncle and his followers. Either way it is a risk we cannot afford.”

“And what of its twin?” Marius questioned. “The Rune of Cythe?”

“Only father knows its location.”

Again Nicholas pondered the possibility of one of their own bloodline plotting to break the spell. Surely the ruin that Gabriel had caused was no secret. To think that someone would wish to revive him was indeed disconcerting.

“I must travel to Romania,” Nicholas told Marius.

“I will go with you,” Marius offered.

“No, your wife needs you here.”

Marius nodded. “And father?” His brows were furrowed with concern.

Nicholas sighed. “I will be the one to tell him.” He sauntered back toward the hole in the skylight and peered up into it.

His eyes narrowed. The space was only large enough for a very slender form to pass through. He would’ve made mention of it, but a faint scent passed into his nostrils. He paused—it was barely present, a soft wisp of something pleasant.

Marius looked at him. “What is it?” he asked.

“There is a fragrance on the air.”

Marius inhaled softly. “I smell nothing.”

Nicholas realized that he was again tapping into the abilities he’d possessed as a gargoyle. He found it odd that Marius was unable to do the same.

“The air is laced with it,” he told him as he inhaled deeply.

Marius followed. “What does it smell like?”

Nicholas was silent for a moment then he turned to face his brother. “Like roses.”




Chapter 2


Drakon Castle, Romania

Nicholas flexed the thick and aching muscles of his neck. Obscured within the shadows of the large dining hall of his family’s estate, he waited. He’d been pacing the darkness as he’d contemplated all the possible motives for what had occurred, when a noise had alerted him. Silently, he’d made his way down the hall, slipping an eighteenth-century rapier from the wall in the process.

He’d arrived in Romania earlier that day and had relayed the incident of the stolen rune stone to his father. As expected, Lord Victor hadn’t taken the news well, and he’d summoned the elders of their clan to discuss the matter.

As Nicholas neared the main dining hall the scraping noise grew louder. He slipped within the shadows cast by the massive hearth whose jaws gaped with only slivers of a dying flame. From somewhere in the mansion a grandfather clock chorused the midnight hour. His eyes riveted to one of the tall rear windows and one thought invaded his mind—the Midnight Bandit had come to find the second rune.

A soft popping sound ensued and the window creaked open, the heavy drapes lifting as a gust of wind reached in to caress them. His muscles tensed. It had been a long time since he’d last had the privilege to engage in a worthwhile fight, and thus, he welcomed the inevitable confrontation with eagerness. He only hoped that his opponent was up to the challenge.

One black boot then another swung in through the opening. Nicholas would’ve advanced, but paused as two slender calves encased within skintight leather slipped in. Shapely thighs and hips followed. Dressed in a black, fitted shirt, leather pants and a mask, the figure landed in a silent crouch on the floor. His eyes narrowed on his new adversary. It seemed his assumption had been correct; the Midnight Bandit was female.

With feline grace, she crawled another few feet and she shot an assessing look about the room.

Nicholas remained as he was; still and without breath. He watched as she stood and began to saunter across the floor. She even took a moment to admire the room’s heavy oak table before advancing. Her figure was completely outlined as she moved past the dull glow of the hearth.

Nicholas’s gaze trailed the length of her as she drew nearer; lean and fit with full breasts and a slender waist. Her stride was bold and confident, that of one who had nothing to fear. It was obvious that she had no knowledge of the territory she’d chosen to invade.

He eased from the shadows then. “Five hundred years ago your crimes would have been punishable by death,” he said.

Her attention snapped to him and a look of surprise crossed her eyes but she quickly regained her composure.

“I guess that makes me fortunate to be living in the present, doesn’t it?”

One of Nicholas’s dark brows peaked slightly at her sharp retort. “You would be wise to return the Rune of Moloch to me and save yourself the unnecessary grief.”

Silence lapsed between them as she watched him. It was short-lived. “I have no intention of returning anything to you,” she said. “In fact, I intend to walk out of here with the second one.”

His eyes narrowed on her. A confrontation he’d anticipated, a fight he’d hoped for, but he hadn’t expected this: a recalcitrant hoyden whose tongue was sharper than the blade he held.

“And I intend to stop you.”

“It seems we have a conflict of interest.” She quickly slid one of the brass fire pokers from its rack and took a defensive martial arts stance.

“So it seems.” With fluid grace he raised his own weapon just in time to block her attack. Metal met metal in a deafening clash that initiated a fierce waltz. Her speed and agility both surprised and impressed him. She moved with the apparent effortlessness of one well schooled in the art. He found himself wondering who she was. The world had softened and its warriors had abandoned the ancient arts of physical combat. She was a rarity indeed.

She attacked again, slicing upward. Nicholas jumped backward, but not before the sharp point of the fire poker slipped up along the front of his billowed shirt. The material fell apart, gaping to reveal his midsection.

“If you intend to stop me you’d better try harder than that,” she said with a smirk in her voice.

Nicholas gripped his shirt and tore it from his body. If she wanted a fight she was going to get one. He charged forward, but she evaded his attack with a graceful backward flip. It seemed the bandit was also an accomplished gymnast.

She returned the favor with an attack of her own, swinging her weapon in a manner that would’ve disabled a man of lesser skill. But he was prepared for her this time. He evaded her assault and gripped the top of her ninja-style mask, stripping it from her head.

A wealth of inky tendrils fell about her face and shoulders like a cloud of hell-fire smoke. Eyes of the same haunting hue locked with his as she eased back a step.

Nicholas stared, his gaze unabashed and lustful, for the creature before him was more than beautiful. She was exotic and striking, an apparition of complete and utter perfection. Desire ignited within him. He’d never met a woman whose skill rivaled her beauty.

“Who are you?” he asked quietly.

For a moment he thought he would gain no response, and then she spoke. “Does it matter?”

He was given no time to respond for she came at him again, brandishing her weapon in a way that would’ve made her teacher proud. Nicholas matched her speed, but was careful to only block her attack. Although he relished the throes of battle, he didn’t believe in harming those weaker than himself. And this little delinquent, although well trained, was no match for his five centuries of ruthless grooming.

He ducked an attack then swept a foot beneath her. His sudden move was unexpected and she lost her balance, coming to land flat on her back. Nicholas marched toward her and quickly kicked the fire poker aside. She moved to sit up, but he crouched above her and placed a firm hand against her chest.

He watched her in the dim lighting. She lay still, her breathing coming in quick gasps. His gaze trailed her body, moving along the ripe curves of her breasts, down her flat abdomen to the tight and very suggestive molding of her pants. He found himself wondering what sort of undergarments, if any at all, could be worn beneath the skintight attire. A low groan escaped him and he was abruptly reminded of how long it had been since he’d last had a woman; nearly two days now. He was ravenous.

Daniela fought to catch her breath as she gazed up at the tall figure towering above her. Two days after the heist of the Rune of Moloch, she’d received word from Mai that the same buyer wanted an artifact that was identical to the first. He had only the assumption that the rune was hidden within Drakon Castle, which meant she was left with the daunting task of trying to locate it. But he was paying double; a fair enough arrangement in her books. She’d immediately left for Romania, leaving her sister Elaina, who was now fifteen, under Mai’s supervision.

She’d been waiting outside the castle for hours. She’d deduced that only one person was at the residence, and when all the lights had dimmed, she’d made her move. She hadn’t expected to find one of the Drakon brothers waiting for her in the darkness—and with a sword.

She’d played it off well and kept her cool, but even now her heart, along with her mind, raced. She’d never been caught before, and at this point the possibility of an escape seemed nonexistent. Time and time again she’d promised herself to give up stealing, but it was the only way of life she knew. Now it was too late. It seemed her rope had just come to an abrupt end.

The man responsible stood above her for what seemed an eternity, his transfixing green eyes piercing into her. Finally, he spoke.

“Where is the Rune of Moloch?” It was an unmistakable command.

Daniela, however, was determined not to convey exactly what she was feeling. “Sold by now, I would imagine.” She was also making a valiant effort to keep her eyes from flitting along the broad expanse of his well-muscled torso.

“Sold to whom?” he asked, his gaze unrelenting.

Daniela stared back. Did he honestly think she would just tell him what he wanted to know? She was already going to be imprisoned for her crimes. The last thing she needed was to have her name out on the street as the one who spilled her guts. She didn’t know the identity of the buyer, but the men who’d collected the item weren’t exactly prize citizens. They were the scourge of the criminal world, and she didn’t want to find out just how dirty they could get. If he wanted answers he was going to have to find them himself.

It seemed he read her stubborn resolve, for in a swift movement he sheathed his sword and reached down, pulling her to her feet.

“You will tell me what I wish to know and you will do so now,” he said as he spun her to face the wall.

With her hands pressed against the cool stone, Daniela steeled herself to remain still as he begun stripping her of her weapons and gadgets. “Why should I waste my time? The way I see it, I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

She could feel the intense heat of his powerful form as he reached around her to slip her phone from her waistband.

“Nay, girl,” his deep voice vibrated throughout her body and his warm breath invaded her ear. “There is much you have yet to lose.”

A large hand moved slowly up along the ripe curve of her hip as he felt the pockets there. Daniela clenched her teeth. She knew that it was more than obvious that she carried nothing there. The material was, after all, like a second skin.

His hand glided higher, up her slender waist and to her chest. She struck the offending member away. “I have nothing hidden there,” she gritted out.

Something resembling a snicker reverberated within his chest. “One can never tell with you women.” He braced an arm above her head and leaned over her. “You may begin your recount,” he told her.

Daniela cast him a brief look over her shoulder. She didn’t know what was worse, his pompous attitude or the scorching heat that was passing through the entire length of her back. She was determined to appear impassive. Her effort might’ve worked too, had he not turned on her cell phone.

The device chimed softly as the light flickered on. His attention was drawn to the image on the screen and she found that she was suddenly embarrassed. She’d uploaded the image a few days ago; it was of her and her sister at the orphanage’s Easter party.

He hovered above her, quiet and contemplative. Daniela lowered her forehead against the cool wall. She certainly wasn’t proud of the life she’d chosen to continue, especially when so many looked up to her. She didn’t know how she would ever face them all if she went to jail for burglary.

He snapped her phone off and slipped it into his pocket. “You can take your chances with me or with the authorities,” he told her, his tone incomprehensible.

Daniela knew within herself that there was nothing to consider. If she continued to resist he would call the police and have her arrested. But if she went along with him she could gain enough time to execute an escape.

“Fine,” she agreed. “What do you want to know?”

His free hand moved to the exposed skin between her fitted shirt and low-rise pants. Calloused fingers traced slowly along her skin. “Who are you employed under?”

Fighting the tingling sensation that was fast spreading from the spot where his fingers played, Daniela rationed the air within her lungs. “I work for no one.”

His fingers paused on her hip. “Then what compels you to steal?”

“Money, what else? I have responsibilities.”

His fingers began to move again, this time outlining the edge of her leather pants. “That is hardly an excuse.”

Her eyes narrowed and she bit down hard on her retort. What did he know of responsibilities? Born into such a wealthy family he’d no doubt had everything given to him. She despised his kind.

“Who have you sold the Rune to? And did he hire you to steal the second?” His finger encountered her slinky thong and he looped a finger into one of the straps, pulling it further to the surface.

She inhaled slowly. She wondered how he’d managed to assume that she’d taken the missing rune stone. She’d been careful to cover her tracks. Her heart began to race again. She wasn’t sure if it was due to the uncanny fact that this man knew far too much about her activities or to the warm sensations he was stirring within her.

When she provided no response, he looped his finger within the strap of her thong a second time, tightening the undergarment. “Answer me, girl.”

“I don’t know him,” she managed. “But yes, he wants the second rune.”

His deep groan echoed within his chest as he acknowledged her admission. “Now I will ask you again, who is this buyer? You steal upon his request. You must know something of him.”

“I’ve never seen him,” she breathed. “I only steal the items and they tell me where to make the drop-offs,” she blurted.

“Where?”

“About thirty minutes from here is an old monastery. I’m expected to deliver the second rune there tomorrow night.”

“You will take me there now.”

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 above it left moisture on her fingertips.

He stood and headed toward the towering wall of the monastery. Daniela followed and watched as he began pulling aside the entanglement of vines and bushes that grew along the wall. She reached into her boot and pulled out a flashlight. As she approached him she heard the sound of decayed wood ripping away.

She switched on the light to aid him. With one heavy boot braced against the wall, he was ripping a hole through the planks of rotten wood that had been nailed to the structure. Beyond them she could see the entrance of a dark passage. Stale air poured out and the trickling sound of water could be heard.

Nicholas turned to face her. “This passage should take us inside.”

“I need a weapon,” she told him. When he only stared at her she continued. “If something happens in there I want to at least be able to defend myself.”

Nicholas watched her for a moment longer then slipped an item from his back pocket. He tossed it to her. Daniela caught it without effort then pinned him with an incredulous look.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” she asked.

The pocket knife he’d given her was lovely with a silver handle that had been carved with various Celtic symbols. However, it was no more than four inches long.

What appeared to be humor crossed his face. “It is a weapon, is it not?”

Her attention moved to the large crossbow he’d just stripped from his back. “Looks more like a Christmas ornament,” she commented with sarcasm. “I can’t defend myself with this.”

He laughed then; a low, deep and very sensuous sound. He sauntered toward her and slipped the flashlight from her fingers. “Then you are just going to have to trust me to do it for you.”

Daniela could only stare at him. He certainly was a beautiful man. It was a pity he didn’t have a personality to match. She must’ve lingered too long without a response for he jerked his head toward the entrance.

With every effort to maintain a calm disposition, she moved and ducked into the passageway.

The small flashlight cast its light about the tunnel, revealing a gravel floor and concave brick walls that were laden with moss. A path of water lined the center of the ground beneath them, no doubt the seepage from the river.

In silence they walked for a few minutes. Daniela listened intently for any noise that would indicate they’d somehow been discovered. Her heart drummed within her chest as they advanced deeper into the shadows. If she got out of this one unscathed she was quitting her thieving ways for sure.

Nicholas paused and Daniela realized that the passage had narrowed to a crawl space that was a few feet off the ground. He angled the light and peered in. “This is the only way in,” he told her.

Daniela eyed the passage. They would have to crawl through, and the last thing she wanted was to be bent over in front of him. “And I suppose you expect me to go in first?”

A flash of humor registered in his eyes. “I do not trust you at my back so I would have it no other way.” He offered her a hand.

With an exasperated sigh she ignored him and gripped the edge of the passage, pulling herself up and inside. Kneeling, she turned and slipped her flashlight from his hand, glaring at him. The light revealed that the passage went on for at least another twenty feet. What lay beyond that she couldn’t tell.

A soft noise behind her told Daniela that Nicholas had joined her in the passage. His huge frame seemed to fill the entire space and she suddenly felt like a caged animal. She’d never been prone to claustrophobia, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she focused on the path ahead and began to crawl forward.

They’d only gone a moderate distance when she felt a cooling draft teasing the stray locks of her hair that had managed to escape the confines of her ponytail. She brought the light up to see a rusty metal fence in front of her. Peering through the bars, she did a quick sweep of the room beyond. It was large and filled with unmarked wooden crates.

“Can you get through the gate?” Nicholas asked from behind her.

She turned the light to the fence, finding that its roots lay imbedded into the wall. “I’ll see.” She set the flashlight down and gripped the bars, applying her full weight against it, but it was in vain. The bars simply wouldn’t budge.

Repositioning slightly, she braced one boot against it and tried again. Flakes of brittle rust cracked away, but as before the bars held firm.

“Allow me to try,” Nicholas offered.

Daniela looked at him then at the space they were allotted. There was no way he was going to get around her. He must’ve realized their dilemma simultaneously for he backed up suddenly.

“Lie on your back,” he told her. “I will climb over you.”

She blinked at him. Could the night get any worse? As if being squeezed into the narrow passage with him wasn’t bad enough, now she would have to endure his very large and hard body sliding over her own. Reluctantly, she complied.

Nicholas moved over her and the heat of his body immediately assailed her as he came to a kneeling position just over her. He leaned forward, increasing her torment as his long hair spilled over his shoulders to tease the sensitive skin of her face. Never had she been this close to a man or in such a compromising position. She hated to admit it, but this pompous man had ignited a fire within her and she wanted nothing more than to stamp it out.

“Cover your eyes,” he told her as he gripped the bars.

With her eyes closed tightly, Daniela could feel the exact moment when the thick corded muscles of his thighs clenched, and seconds later a crumbling noise ensued. Opening her eyes slowly, she cast a look over her head to find that the metal fence had been completely ripped from the wall.

Nicholas had to lean forward a bit more so that he could allow the iron to carefully slide to the floor below. This action brought his face mere inches from her own. His very masculine scent engulfed her, slipping into her nostrils to toy with her imagination.

The metal fence scrapped its way down the wall and landed on the floor with a quiet clank. Nicholas’s eyes met and held her own and he watched her for a few seconds. In this lighting they looked black, but she remembered from their earlier encounter that they were a very transfixing green; the color of the Brazilian rain forest after a fresh rain. His gaze was contemplative as he watched her, assessing almost.

“From this point on you will obey me without question,” he told her quietly. “Is that understood?”

Daniela was silent for a moment. She’d never been inclined to take orders from anyone, and she certainly wasn’t appreciating his demanding nature. But in her present predicament she would have to contend with it. She nodded.

He acknowledged her compliance with a grunt then moved carefully over her and through the exit. Daniela remained motionless for a moment as she regained her composure, then she quickly followed. Nicholas was moving between the crates, scrolling the light over them.

Daniela moved to stand beside him. “I don’t think you’re going to find the rune anywhere in this monastery,” she told him. “These guys are just middlemen. They acquire the items for the buyers and I’m not sure what happens after that, but I don’t think they keep them lying about for too long.”

“You may be correct, but as you say they are middlemen and at present my only connection to the one who has the rune.”

He turned and headed toward a short flight of stone steps that lead to a doorway outlined by a dull orange glow. He gripped the door handle and it turned with ease.

Daniela moved up the steps to join him then waited as he pulled the door open a crack and peered through. He listened for a few seconds and when they were met with quiet, he pulled the door wider. Dull light poured in from the narrow passage that lay beyond. They entered quietly and moved toward another flight of steps. A wooden door stood at the top of the stairway. As before, Nicholas eased it open and they looked through.

They heard muffled voices but no one was within sight. They slipped past the threshold and into a long, wide hall lit by several dangling bulbs. They moved cautiously toward an archway that was aglow with a light from a lower floor.

Daniela matched Nicholas’s pace, staying close, but never advancing ahead. Oddly, she didn’t feel any fear. There was just something about the man that gave her a sense of reassurance. She wasn’t sure if it was the confidence in his stride, the way he held his crossbow at his side—subtly poised for anything—or his tall and powerful frame. Whatever the reason, it was certainly an odd feeling for her. Never had she met a man who made her feel anything remotely close to security.

They passed through the archway and found themselves on the second floor of the main hall. The upper level was lined with a banister while the foyer below was crowded with wooden crates and barrels. Five men moved about, stacking the crates and rolling the barrels to one side.

Nicholas assumed an immediate crouching position and Daniela followed suit. Concealed within the shadows and behind the wooden posts of the banister, they observed the scene below. The men spoke with British accents and Daniela recognized one of them immediately. Tall and with a gangly frame, she knew him only by his nickname, Cradle. She’d done business with him a few times, actually delivering the first rune to him a few days ago. And it was to him that she was expected to deliver the second.

“That’s him,” she told Nicholas. “He’s the one I gave the rune to.”

He fixed the man with a lethal look. “So it is possible that the rune is here?”

Daniela didn’t like the look on his face. It seemed he contemplated a confrontation. Between him with his antique weapon and her with her butter knife, the chances of victory were positively slim.

“No,” she tried to dissuade. “I told you before that these guys are just middlemen. I doubt they hold on to the items for very long.”

“He was given the rune. If it is not in his possession he will know where it is.” With that he slid forward a few feet.

Daniela watched him incredulously. There was no way he could confront Cradle without alerting the others. And doing that would only lead to his death—or worse.

She cast a glance over her shoulder. It was time for her to make an exit. Nicholas had her cell phone and could possibly use it to learn her identity, but if she managed to get out of there she could contact Mai and have her cancel her cellular account. Attempting an escape was better than remaining here to face a certain death. Even if Nicholas didn’t make it out of there, her life was still at risk because her cell phone remained in his pocket, which she was sure Cradle and his comrades would search.

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?”

“Money. That’s all these jobs are to me—a paycheck. I don’t ask questions. I just do what I’m told.”

Nicholas remained poised over the man for a few seconds then grunted in response as he stepped back. “Get up,” he ordered.

Cradle crawled to his feet. Without a word Nicholas jerked his head toward a large crate that sat open on the floor. Cradle understood and although a look of reluctance crossed his face, he complied without question. With much difficulty he climbed into the crate and fell back into the packing grass.

Nicholas set his crossbow aside and swung the heavy wooden lid up. “Your associates should be awake by sunrise. I am sure they will discover you here,” he told Cradle before setting the lid into place.

He marched toward another crate and picked it up, putting it firmly onto the lid of the first, securing Cradle inside. Daniela exhaled softly. At least no one had been killed. She wasn’t quite sure of what to expect from Nicholas Drakon. Her relief was shortlived when he snatched up his crossbow and turned his attention to her.

Propping the weapon up onto his shoulder, he sauntered toward her, pausing a few feet away. He stood there watching her, his eyes narrowed as they trailed the length of her. Daniela tried to still the racing of her heart, but couldn’t. The man simply looked dangerous with his long mane of dark hair spilling over his back and shoulders. With as much bravado as she could muster, she waited for his next move.

His eyes dipped over her again “You have been wounded,” he said in a low voice.

“It’s nothing,” she lied even as another sharp pain shot down her leg.

“There are medications at the estate. We can treat it there,” he told her as he pulled the bow from his shoulder and began to disable it.

Daniela blinked. What the hell was he talking about? He’d gotten what he wanted and it didn’t seem as if he intended to turn her in to the police. There was absolutely no reason for her to remain with him.

“I’ve shown you what you wanted to see. I’d like to go now,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “Oh, and I need my phone back.”

Nicholas’s hand paused on the crossbow and he looked up at her. Emerald eyes flashed. “Dawn is nearly upon us,” he said. “I intend to be back at the estate before the sun rises. I do not have the patience or the time to spare.” He motioned toward the main entry door with his crossbow.

As she’d done so many times that night, Daniela swallowed her comment. She hated to admit it, but there was something about Nicholas Drakon that made her insides quiver. It was like a sordid mixture of anger and intense attraction. She’d never been immediately drawn to anyone before, most especially someone of the opposite sex. It was a pity he was such a nuisance to be around. And it seemed she would have to endure even more of his less-than-winning disposition.

Trying to ignore the pain in her leg, she headed toward the main exit. Nicholas extended a hand to assist her, but she shoved it away. She didn’t need his help.




Chapter 4


Nicholas shoved through the door of the estate’s kitchen. He was in a foul mood. Not only had Daniela nearly gotten them both killed, but for the price of learning very little about the location of the missing rune. And to top it all off, they’d not managed to escape a sudden storm and were presently soaking wet.

Daniela’s knees buckled just as they entered the room and he caught her before she touched the floor. She was no doubt weakened by the fair amount of blood she’d lost.

“Sit,” he instructed as he guided her into the room.

Daniela complied, seating herself at the polished mahogany table that sat in the center of the kitchen. Matching countertops and cupboards lined one side of the room and a small couch sat near the rear wall.

Nicholas headed for a cupboard and returned with a wooden box and a bottle of brandy. He looked at the blood-soaked rag that she’d used as a makeshift tourniquet. The bleeding had stopped. Carefully, she released the knot that secured it into place and bit down on her bottom lip, but remained silent. Nicholas could tell that although she hid it well she was in much pain.

He placed the box on the table and opened the lid. It contained medicinal items from a modern first aid kit and a few that were similar to those used in the 1900s. He went to the sink and returned with a bowl of water.

“I will need to clean your wound and the bullet must be extracted. Remove your pants,” he told her.

Her attention snapped to him. “I don’t think so,” she told him flatly.

His eyes narrowed on her. The wound was bound to become infected if it wasn’t tended to, and he needed her alive and well. He was sure that she would be contacted the following night once she didn’t show up with the second rune. His plan was simple. He would have her admit to encountering trouble, but state that she’d managed to steal the rune anyway. As the monastery would no longer be deemed a safe haven and the delivery of the item would already be late, he would have her offer to deliver the stone to the source itself. “Remove your pants or I will remove them for you,” he warned.

Their eyes locked, hers relaying a fierce defiance. He could see her weighing her options. It was futile to defy him for it was he who determined her fate. Her jaw hardened and he knew that she’d come to this very conclusion.

With a dark scowl that made her sleek brows pucker, she used the table for support and pushed to her feet. She stared up at him, her head barely level with his chin. When he remained as he was she let out an exasperated sigh that made her ample chest rise temptingly.

“Can you at least give me some privacy?” she asked.

Nicholas pondered the humor of her request. She could certainly be amusing in all her tartness. To think that he would turn his back on her a second time was foolish.

“I assure you, you have nothing I have not seen before.” He brought his arms up to cross over his chest. “Proceed.”

If possible, her eyes grew even more venomous. “You arrogant son of a bitch,” she gritted out as she jerked the single button at her waistband open.

“Spoken like a true criminal deviant,” he countered.

He watched as she yanked the zipper down, revealing a surprisingly lacy thong. What he’d originally thought was white turned out to be a soft pink. There was even a little bow fastened to the band. His gaze trailed to her face as she pushed the left leg carefully over her injury. It seemed there lay some softness beneath her calloused exterior after all.

With her pants rolled to her knees she eased back into the chair. Nicholas assumed it was her pride that prevented her from trying to conceal the beautiful curve of her hips and thighs. She sat still even as he kneeled before her and removed a packet of gauze from the kit then began swabbing at the blood that had dried about the point of entry.

“You would do well to take a drink of that brandy,” he suggested.

Daniela shook her head. “No, thanks. I’ll need all my wits about me in case you try something.”

His gaze slid to her face. “If it was my intent to try something, no measure of wit would save you, be assured.”

She was silent, no doubt absorbing his words. “Funny,” she said at last. “For someone with so much money you certainly weren’t taught very many manners.”

He snorted. “Scolded by a woman who makes her living stealing from others. How I have fallen,” he scoffed.

His humor wasn’t taken well and her eyes narrowed on him. “Why are you holding me here? To torture me with your sarcasm?” she asked.

He studied her for a moment, noting the way her damp hair had curled about her face and shoulders. “You have not served your full purpose yet,” he told her. “You are my only hope of finding the rune and the one who hired you to steal it. Until I do, you will remain here.”

“I believe that’s called kidnapping.”

He nodded in agreement. “Perhaps it is, but you are hardly in the position to alert the authorities, are you?” Without waiting for her response, he dipped a fresh wad of gauze into the bowl and moved lower on her thigh. He noted another small bullet hole. It could’ve been an exit wound, but it was curiously small. He would have to be certain. He removed a small pair of forceps from the kit.

“This will hurt, but I will be done with it as quickly as I can.”

“Just get it over with,” she snapped.

Nicholas watched her curiously. He’d been thoroughly impressed by her fighting skill and her courage. She had a hard strength about her that wasn’t ordinarily seen in women of the modern era. This, coupled with her beautiful face and form made her quite desirable. But this was business. His family’s future was at stake and he would have no dealings with the one who was partially responsible for bringing it down upon them. Not that she would permit it anyway. The woman was a shrew.




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