A Dangerous Tryst (The Inheritance Book 3) Read online

  Beau twisted the handle around in his palm without ever taking his eyes off her. “All right. If you think of anything else in flight, you pull me aside and tell me. If you figure out the rest of the address, I want to know right away. The sooner, the better. If you get my meaning.”

  “I will.” Madalina hesitated when Beau stepped to the door and opened it, then gestured with the knife for her to exit first. She didn’t want to put her back to him. What else could she do? There was only one way back to her seat, and it was past Beau.

  Stepping forward with purpose, as if she wasn’t afraid of anything, least of all him, Madalina brushed past and walked down the aisle to her seat. Her knees felt peculiarly weak, her fingers numb from being laced too tight. She arrived without being stabbed in the back and exhaled a pent-up breath when she sank into her seat.

  Bastard. She figured he’d done that on purpose.

  Lifting both of her shaky hands, she rested her forehead against her fingertips. It took several minutes before her breathing returned to normal. Her thoughts unsurprisingly turned to Cole. To the last images of him she’d seen in the field beyond the runway. Although she had no certain visual confirmation, she knew in her gut that it was him. No one else but the local police would have been there at that exact time busting down fences to try and stop the plane.

  He’d been so close. Another few minutes and he might have succeeded in blocking takeoff.

  She wondered if he’d found the bloodied map, and decided he must have. Had he known it was her blood, that she’d been the one to toss it against the wall?

  Probably not. He’s human, not psychic. Yet she also knew, had seen firsthand, how good Cole was in the field. He knew how to run evidence, how to make the right connections. She was learning, too, albeit at a much slower pace.

  How far she’d come from when she’d met him in Vegas.

  That seemed a lifetime ago.

  Hearing a noise from her mother two rows up, Madalina lifted her head and frowned when she saw Beau haul her mother out of her seat. Standing up, she scowled and said, “What are you doing?”

  “Sit down,” Beau said, and it was a clear warning. The look he shot her said in no uncertain terms that he would do to her mother what he’d threatened to do to her.

  Madalina’s jaw tightened. Her mother looked terrified, her face pale and drawn. Beau arched a brow and removed his blade from its sheath at his waist, almost in challenge.

  Sitting abruptly, Madalina faced forward and glared her loathing and hate into the back of the seat in front of her. What could she do with her hands tied? Beau meant to interrogate her mother the same way he’d interrogated her, and Madalina had no access to weapons of any kind to stop him. Never mind the other men positioned around the plane who would interrupt if she charged Beau. She imagined Beau wouldn’t take his revenge out on her, but her mother. Chop off a piece of Juniper’s cheek, hack off a toe.

  Seething fury made her blood feel hot in her veins, but she bided her time and thought ahead to landing. To when she had a better shot of making another escape.

  This time, she meant to make it permanent.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The transition from car to private jet occurred with impressive speed. Cole hurried through the exchange of the map for a copy and got on board with all due haste. Damon and Brandon were already there, getting drinks from a small bar near the kitchenette. The borrowed jet lacked the opulence he’d seen in some planes, but the seats were comfortable, the floor was clean, and the kitchen appeared well stocked.

  Pulling a laptop from a bag given to him by Thaddeus’s acquaintance, Cole fired up the device and set to work even as the jet taxied toward the runway. He logged in to the private databases available to his father’s company and ran searches of his own about the conflict on the Spratly Islands, getting up-to-the-minute updates about the position of troops and even about suspected spies for each side.

  There was a lot of information. More than he expected. Photos of the conflict proved that Thaddeus had been right: it was violent. Cole mapped out the area, looking for the best way in and the best way out. He liked to know every detail of what he was getting into beforehand.

  Damon and Brandon joined him for the first half hour. They discussed options, plans, and what to do if one of them got caught by an opposing force.

  If they were lucky, the men who had Madalina would not take her or her parents anywhere near the actual fighting. Cole couldn’t count on what the men would or would not do, so he and his brothers plotted contingencies for everything. Even the possibility that Madalina wasn’t on the plane and had been taken somewhere else, leaving the jet as a decoy.

  “We got the blood samples and DNA back from the house and that map,” Thaddeus said. Machines clicked and beeped in the background.

  “Was it a match for Madalina?” Cole asked, automatically putting Thaddeus on speaker. Damon and Brandon rose from their seats to step closer and listen.

  “Yes. Not just Madalina but her mother and father as well. We have DNA from four other different sources that we ran through the system and came up with some surprising results,” Thaddeus said.

  Cole listened to his brother give details on the four men who had abducted Madalina. Each was a known mercenary or assassin for hire, often taking the highest bids for jobs that governments and the elite wanted to keep under the radar. Sensitive missions that commanded thousands of dollars in pay. All the men had military background and were known to use their middle names—Lance, Beau, Julian, and Fredrick—while on the job. Thaddeus had been able to dig up connections between the group to Russia, the Sudan, and Saudi Arabia. The men were highly skilled and sought after.

  Cole thought the men sounded a lot like him and his brothers—except for the assassin part. Finding hard targets was Cole’s specialty, be it an object or a person.

  “I know it’s not great news, but I’m confident we’re on the right track. The airport has security video, and we’re waiting for that to come in now. I’ll let you know what I find,” Thaddeus said.

  “Excellent. Thanks,” Cole said and rang off.

  “At least now we’ve got a bead on ’em,” Brandon said.

  “Yeah, we do. I just hope we don’t arrive to find that the men think Madalina and her family have served their use.” Cole knew it might go badly if that was the case. They would be in another country, where help would be difficult to come by.

  He stuffed the phone into his pocket and pulled out his hand. A ring fell to the carpeted floor, landing with a soft thump.

  “Hey, what’s this?” Brandon, ever alert, bent to pick it up.

  “Here, give me that,” Cole said, trying to pluck it from Brandon’s fingers.

  Brandon kept it out of reach, glancing from the sparkling diamond to Cole. Damon leaned in to get a better look and also pinned Cole with a questioning glance.

  Shoving his hands into his pockets, Cole tipped his chin up defiantly and said, “Yeah, yeah. I’d planned to propose for her birthday.”

  Brandon whistled long and low, and suddenly thrust the ring back at Cole as if it had burned him. “The Man Who Wouldn’t Settle Down is about to do just that. Hurry and take it before the madness rubs off on the rest of us.”

  Despite the situation, Cole and Damon laughed. Cole plucked the ring out of his brother’s fingers and stowed it back in his own pocket. Cole said, “You’re ridiculous—”

  “No. No, it’s not me. I learned my antirelationship penchant from the best—you. Now you’ve become smitten, and look, there’s a ring involved.” Brandon shuddered as if the whole idea of marriage was a curse worse than death.

  “I guess that whole saying about finding the right one is true after all,” Cole said. It was more than that, and he knew it. Madalina was the right one, but something had shifted in himself over the past six months as well. Where he hadn’t ever enjoyed the thought of waking up to the same person forever or strapping himself down in one place for too long, he suddenly found
himself looking forward to certain aspects of domesticity. Madalina didn’t know it yet, but he’d purchased their rented Tudor home and planned to present her with the deed after he proposed.

  It was their house now. An anchor in their otherwise hectic life. She loved that house, and imagining waking up there year after year didn’t send him running for foreign lands. Something had changed, something fundamental, a mentality he wouldn’t have thought possible. He didn’t plan on giving up his job or the dangers that went with it; he would just have someone to come home to after the missions were done.

  “I guess congratulations are in order,” Damon said with a grin.

  “You mean the death march,” Brandon muttered.

  “It’s not that bad, little brother. You’ll get bit one of these days. Just wait. I’m passing that bit of wisdom on to you next,” Cole said. Then, to Damon, “Thanks.”

  “For the record, I’m happy for the both of you. She’s great,” Damon added with a wink. He retreated to a seat while Brandon playfully gave Cole the stink eye.

  Amusement and fondness for his brethren briefly outshone the grim determination that had gripped him since he’d discovered Madalina missing. He found his own seat after that, preferring silence and solitude to return to his work. He refused to consider the idea that he wouldn’t get to propose, that Madalina would be taken from him permanently after they’d come this far. The only possible bright side to it all was that maybe, if they were lucky, they would find the final two dragons and that would be the last of the abductions and terror. He planned to make sure the entire world knew that there were no more dragons in the collection and that Madalina was no longer a source of information.

  If she lived.

  She will. She has to.

  The longer her mother spent with Beau, the more worried Madalina became. Rising enough to peer over the back of her seat, she stared at the door, hoping to see the two come out of the room. What was her mother saying? Would Beau be harder on her mom than he’d been on her? It seemed as if they’d been back there forever, and the utter silence disturbed Madalina almost as much as if she’d heard screams.

  She had to consider the idea that her mother knew more about the dragons than she’d let on. Juniper had been surprised by the way Walcot had led Madalina on a treasure hunt through Rio, though, and Madalina didn’t think that had been an act. That didn’t mean her mother didn’t have clues or other valuable information that might not have appeared valuable at the time. Some random conversation with Walcot, a whimsical gift. Beau would be relentless, she knew, and Madalina prayed that her mother didn’t know anything more than what she’d said so far.

  “Sit down,” Freddy said from the front seat. He was standing with his back to a dividing wall, one foot in the seat, facing Madalina and Wesley.

  Madalina twisted around in her seat, glaring at Freddy for a moment before plopping down to sit. She stared straight ahead, disturbed and annoyed.

  How she hated to be under their control.

  “Listen here, you bastards, I want my wife brought back out—” Wesley’s abrupt demand cut off when Freddy interrupted.

  “Shut up. I don’t want to hear another word out of you. I’ll have no problem putting a bullet right between your eyes.” Freddy gestured with the gun.

  Madalina yanked her gaze over to her father and Freddy. She could hear the strife in Wesley’s voice, knew he was getting closer and closer to an edge that she wasn’t sure she could pull him back from.

  “Dad, she’ll be okay. I’m sure she’s just answering questions, like I had to do. She knows nothing more than I did,” Madalina said, attempting to defuse the escalation before it went any further.

  “What part about shutting up don’t you two understand?” Freddy shifted his gun around to his back, the strap cutting across his chest, and went to a small box sitting in the niche before the cockpit. Pulling out a piece of black cloth, he advanced on Wesley and tugged it over his head.

  Briefly, a scuffle ensued. Wesley, hands tied before him, lifted his arms and tried to fend Freddy off.

  “Dad!” Horrified, Madalina stood in her seat, ready to defend him no matter what the cost.

  “Sit. Down.” Julian stood up from the front row where he’d been sitting since takeoff. He gestured at Madalina while Freddy brushed Wesley’s hands away and succeeded in hooding the elderly man.

  “Make a ruckus again and I’ll find a more permanent solution to silence you,” Freddy said to Wesley, taking up his former position.

  Although Madalina wanted to challenge the manhandling and terror tactics, she also didn’t want to make it worse for her parents. Freddy’s threat to Wesley was a reminder for her, too: I can’t kill you, but I can kill him.

  Wesley didn’t have as much value in their eyes as she and her mother.

  The back door opened and Juniper stepped out.

  Madalina twisted in her seat, anxious to see her mother for herself. To see if she had obvious wounds. With relief, Madalina saw no signs of physical damage. Her mother met her eyes and mouthed, It’s okay, which reassured Madalina little. What had gone on back there for such a long time? What had Beau asked to put that haunted look in Juniper’s eyes?

  Maybe it was the situation as a whole. Maybe her mother was feeling the strain of the abduction and the knowledge that, at some point, her usefulness would come to an end. Madalina knew it was on each of their minds: What would happen to them then?

  The devil on Madalina’s shoulder insisted that it didn’t look good.

  CHAPTER TEN

  When the jet touched down hours later, Madalina felt the mood in the plane switch from casual watchfulness to full alert. Beau, Freddy, and Julian busied themselves with black duffel bags and weapons, checking and rechecking magazines and ammunition.

  A gray, overcast day greeted Madalina as Beau ushered her down the stairs to the tarmac. Cloying humidity hung in the air, prickling her skin with sweat. She glanced at her mother and father—the latter now unhooded—to reassure herself that they weren’t being separated. For now, it appeared that Juniper and Wesley were being guided in the same direction.

  Taking stock of her surroundings, Madalina saw that the crude airstrip consisted of a simple runway and separate parking area for planes. No buildings dotted the landscape, barring a small tower at one end. Thick green foliage ran parallel to the airstrip on both sides, making it impossible for her to see anything beyond the tall trees and broad bushes. If a cityscape lurked anywhere on the island, Madalina couldn’t see it from here.

  A faint pop-pop-pop echoed in the distance. Identifying the sound as gunfire, Madalina frowned.

  What the hell was going on?

  One glance at her mother and father proved they had heard the noise, too, and recognized it for what it was.

  With the scent of the sea strong in the air, Madalina awkwardly climbed into the back of a charcoal-gray SUV parked behind a cluster of concealing bushes. Freddy ushered her parents into a second vehicle, with Lance’s team dispersing between the cars. Unhappy at being separated, Madalina squirmed in her seat and pelted Lance with questions the second he got behind the wheel.

  “Where are we and why did I hear gunfire?” she asked.

  “We had to take a small detour. We’ll be moving on to Nepal after we complete our task here.” Lance checked the rearview mirror, put the SUV in gear, and tore down the tarmac toward a small road not far ahead.

  Madalina glanced back at the SUV containing her parents, suddenly fearful that it wouldn’t follow. It did. Right on Lance’s bumper.

  “But where are we now?” she pressed, straightening in her seat. Recalling the maps on the walls, she wanted to narrow down which country they were in or which island they were on. It might save her life later to know where in the world she was.

  “Don’t worry about that. Hang on,” Lance said, swerving onto the small road.

  Madalina bounced in the seat from the rough condition of the asphalt, watching the forest whip by out
the windows. A distant boom, like an earthquake or a cannon shot, snapped her attention forward. “What was that?”

  Lance said nothing. He took another turn onto a smaller road that forked off from the original, taking them farther from the airstrip. The SUV behind stayed close, Madalina noticed, never falling back too far.

  Twisting and turning along roads through the forest, Lance drove with speed and skill, gaze darting every which way, as if he was wary of what he might see in the tall grass that sprang up in random clearings between trees.

  Less than fifteen minutes after departing the plane, a two-story whitewashed building came into view. Madalina couldn’t tell if it was a house, an office building, or some sort of military construct. Heavy metal doors sat on two different sides, and no windows could be seen anywhere.

  Stomping the brakes, Lance brought the SUV to a halt, climbed out, then hurried Madalina from the vehicle.

  The pops and cracks were closer now, though not near the building.

  Madalina could have sworn she was listening to artillery of some sort. She considered the idea of a shooting range, then dismissed it a moment later. This was something other than target practice.

  “Go, go,” Lance said, forcing her into a crouched run for the doors.

  Ducking, Madalina ran as fast as she could, glancing back once to assure herself that her parents were right behind. They were, running in the same manner that she was.

  Lance pounded on the doors, which were opened moments later by a man dressed in similar dark clothes, with a machine gun strapped to his body.

  Confused and bewildered, and more than a little frightened, Madalina stumbled into an open area lit brightly by overhead fluorescents. Like the house near the beach, this space had maps tacked to the walls, whiteboards situated strategically around desks, and data scrolling across computer screens. Several men stood near the desks, a few were on phones, and others studied images that reminded Madalina of battle zones. All the men were armed to the teeth. One or two looked to be of Asian heritage; the rest appeared to be like the men who held her: American.