Dead Reckoning (17 page)

Without a moment's hesitation, she obeyed.

Good. She trusts me.
He trudged in the other direction, stopping at a vendor and smelling the mangoes. Lifting one fruit and then smelling another, he caught her staring at him from
a half-block away. Purposefully, he stepped around a man and his son, pausing next to them. Would she notice? The two had stalked her for days.

Her chin dropped as she shifted back toward the hotel. Yep, she recognized them. She had yet to let him down. Then again, why was she walking so fast?

Reece pressed a rupee into the vendor's hand as he bit into a mango. Having her out here involved a tactic he’d never reveal to her—luring out the
real
bad guys. The people following her now were only henchmen; they weren’t the firepower. If he got her into the open, then perhaps he could force the real threat to show their hand.

Bingo!
With a careful flick of his wristwatch, he snapped photos of the two men emerging from a shop. Men in dark suits. Men with poorly concealed M16s.

Reece eased himself out of sight, sprinted down a side alley and through one intersection, narrowly avoiding a rickshaw. He banked left, heading straight for the hotel. Another intersection. He slowed. Around the corner, he spotted Shiloh approaching.

Their gazes collided.

“Are you trying to scare me?” she said.

The men were far enough away. “You said you weren’t in danger. I thought you should see what you’re up against and why I’m not leaving until I know you’re safely out of this country.”

“That's not happening. Not without my fiancé. If morons like you would just leave me alone, we’d be fine.”

Reece trained his attention on the two men coming fast from the southeast. One reached for his weapon. “I think I know a couple of guys who wouldn’t agree with you.”

Shiloh hesitantly glanced over her shoulder, then yanked back to him. “Who are they?”

“Bad guys.” He grabbed her arm and tugged her aside. “Step into the alley.”

“Maharashtra police! Stop!”

“Run!”

Brutus's words propelled Shiloh down the packed street. She whipped through families and mothers with children perched on their backs. Around cars and carts. Over dogs. In her periphery, big guy kept even with her. His hand reached toward her, and instinctively, she grasped it. He jerked her right, through an alley. Faster.

Thunderous steps. Her heart matched the noise. A metallic taste—the bitter aftertaste of the pill—filled her mouth. She pressed on. Behind them, shouts.

Brutus darted down another narrow street. Skidding on the dirt road, Shiloh nearly missed the turn. Her fingers dusted the ground, and her knee scraped concrete. She used the building to launch herself after him and quickly caught up. Almost as soon as she did, he broke off in another direction.

Wood erupted around her. She ducked and yelped. Shooting! Sirens wailed.

“Here,” Brutus said, once again snatching her hand and pulling her into darkness.

Flattened with her back against stucco, she steadied her breathing. He stood next to her with his back pinned against the wall too. She tried to peek past him but couldn’t see around his broad chest. Head tilted up, she gulped air. The big guy pressed a warm palm against her stomach. Gently, but firmly, he urged her farther into the dank recesses.

Running footsteps approached.

A beam of light struck his navy shirt. He tried to lean away. If they didn’t move, they’d be caught.

Her fingers slid along the wall, searching for an escape. The texture changed. She craned her neck left. A door! With care, she twisted the knob, hoping it would open. Creaking.

She checked Brutus. He watched the street.

Despite the noisy riot of the city, silence pervaded the street. Her skin crawled. Turning.
Click
. Her fingertips pushed back the door until she eased out of the stoop. He didn’t seem to notice but scooted closer to her as if searching for a hiding place. Shiloh gripped his arm and tugged him into the dark space.

Brutus spun, apparently searching for his bearings. Their hands brushed. Nudging the door closed, she focused on the imprint her two-second recon afforded. Light evaporated less than a foot from him. Blackness. A lone streak of sunlight sliced into the abandoned shop. He lurched toward the opening, watching through the tiny slot between the door and jamb.

“Who are they?”

“Quiet.”

The beam fractured. Someone was coming!

He reached for her, made contact, and shoved her into the blackness of the corner. His arms wrapped around her as he tucked them both into the tight space. Dust tickled her nose, and plaster dug into her shoulder blades. The gentle creaking of boards seemed as loud as foghorns. Taut arms pushed against hers. A fresh, crisp scent filled her senses like a cool night on the beach.

He pulled up the hoodie on his sweatshirt and ducked his head. Hot breath swept her cheek and neck. Face-to-face, he let out a barely audible “shh” and nudged her head down.

Seconds later light erupted but never reached the far corner that concealed them. She gripped his arms. What if they were discovered? Would their pursuers kill them?

Sweat trickled down her spine. Shouldn’t it be weird—creepy, even—being this close to a man she barely knew? Though the darkness hampered her sight, Shiloh peeked at him. His profile seemed exaggerated with the light from the door. Head ducked, he watched as two men rushed in, shouting.

Shiloh stiffened.

The men mumbled something.

Brutus didn’t move, still monitoring their pursuers.

A salty bead dribbled down her face, over her neck, tickling and itching at the same time. She ground her teeth, demanding her body not twitch or freeze. Wouldn’t that be great? A seizure. During the paralysis, it would be fine, but coming out, she nearly always collapsed.

Gentle rubbing—his thumb along her forearm—awakened her to the fact Brutus was trying to calm her. How could he think with such dual purpose—preserving their lives and calming her? Maybe he figured she’d give them away. She considered him. Is that what this was about? His strong, angular jaw stood out against the dark material. A straight, slightly hooked nose added to his intensity.

His gaze hit hers. Her heart raced. Though she couldn’t see the color of his eyes, she remembered the way they sparkled like Mumbai Harbor. His nearness made her feel safe instead of suffocated.

Outside noises invaded her thoughts: blaring horns, metal scraping metal, yelling voices. Shiloh flinched.

“They’re gone,” Brutus whispered. He moved and squinted through the crack in the door.

Shiloh shuddered and exhaled deeply. She suddenly felt cold from the absence of his body heat.

“You okay?”

“Fine.” She fought the nausea swirling in her stomach and wrapped her hands around herself as Brutus considered her for a moment.

“Sit tight.”

“You’re not leaving me here alone.” Shiloh hurried with him as he slipped out, remaining in the shadows.

Past him and beyond the curb, a crowd gathered around the mangled wreck of two cars. A small child raced through the onlookers as two men shouted and shook fists at each other. Barking amplified in the narrow street. Smells of rotten food and sewage filtered into her senses.

She scooted behind Brutus. He reached back and clamped a hand on her, catching her waist. “Come here.” He pushed her back inside the store.

“Look, Brutus, I’m not a slab of beef.” Wriggling free, Shiloh worked to steady her voice and pounding heart.

Pausing, he scowled. “What did you call me?”

Heat licked at her cheeks. “Shouldn’t we be running for our lives?”

“We’ll take a few minutes, put more space between us and them.” His hands slid around her neck. Heebie-jeebies skated down her body as he secured her hair and tucked it into the band of her choli.

She jerked back. “What’re you doing?”

He caught her arm and held her firmly. “It’ll help if we can alter our appearances.” His fingers swept the sides of her face as he smoothed the strands away.

This was too bizarre. Shiloh forced herself to nod, to let him know she heard him over the drumming of her heart. “Where did you get the pill?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“I will worry. How does it stop the seizures?”

He checked over his shoulder. “Dunno. They said it’ll reestablish the neural connections or something. Taken long enough, you’ll be seizure free.”

“Impossible.”

He winked. “Go out, around the corner to the right, through the fence, down the alley and past the church. Your hotel is on the right.”

“We’re splitting up?”

“Not unless I’m dead.”

“That's not exactly reassuring.”

Chuckling, he arched his hands over his head, gripped the back of his shirt, and removed the hoodie, revealing a thin, green T-shirt. “Put this on. Your choli and sari make you an easy mark. We need to throw them off .” Scrunching up the hoodie, he slipped it over her head and tugged it into place.

Whoa. Okay. Too much touching. Shiloh stepped from his grasp, glaring as she positioned the shirt.

Was he grinning at her? “I’ll escort you to the courtyard. It's up to you to get to your room. If you see them, don’t stop.”

“Exactly
who
is ‘them’?” Threading her arms into the heavy material, she tried to think past the cologne tingling her nostrils.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

She arched her eyebrows. “Me? You’re the spy.”

“You have instincts or you wouldn’t have figured out what I am. So, pop quiz: Who are the men after you?”

This little test tightened the rope of agitation and frustration inside her. If he knew, why didn’t he just cut to the chase? She shrugged to adjust the hoodie, peeking up at him. It wasn’t any use. If she didn’t spill her thoughts, he’d never open up with his. Somehow, she also didn’t want to be shown an idiot in front of this man. The thought alone drew her chin up an inch.

“They aren’t Maharashtra state police.”

“Brilliant.”

He was mocking her. She gritted her teeth. “Whatever this is about, they—and you—think I have or know something.” She glanced at him, hoping he’d confirm that.

“I’m the good guy, remember?”

“Well, you’re good. Whether or not you’re on my side remains to be seen.”

“I’m helping you now, aren’t I?”

Lips quirked, Shiloh tried to stop the smile. “I don’t know, are you?”

He raked a hand over his short military crop. “All right. Back to the men. Think. What put them on your trail?”

Did she frustrate him? Or was he avoiding that question? Shiloh refocused her thoughts on his interrogation. A competitiveness rose from within her to figure this out. “The dive site—when I was out there a week ago.”

“Go on.”

She huffed. What could it have been? “That cylinder …”

Reece gripped her arms. “Hold up. What cylinder?”

W
ILD BLUE EYES STARED UP AT HIM. FROZEN IN HIS GRIP, SHILOH PARTED
her lips.

He shook her. “What cylinder?”

“I—” She swallowed. Scowling, she jerked out of his hold.

“Just tell me what you found.”

Defiance flared on her face. “On the bay, I located what I thought was an artifact. I thought I’d finally got one up on Mikhail Drovosky.” Her vibrant eyes clouded. “It was a tube of some sort. At the time, I was irked, wondering who’d compromised the site, who’d been there before me.” She sighed. “But now? Now I know everyone's after that thing. I mean, that's what this is all about, right?”

“What did you do with it?”

She flipped her hair out from beneath the hoodie that draped her torso and hips. “I had to leave it when the shooting started.”

Reece mentally paced up and down the news. What was in it? Who’d planted the cylinder? He’d watched that site for weeks. He hadn’t seen anything. Divers swam to the drop. Still, nobody had come within a mile of there until the—

The college team. A perfect cover. Was it the professor? Khalid Khan? The stunning woman before him?

Head tilted, she looked at him. “What?”

Reece let his mask of indifference slip back into place. “Nothing.” He reached for her arm, but she swung away. “We should get you back to the hotel. Wouldn’t want your fiancé to worry.”

“Wait. I—” She closed her mouth. Finally, she jutted her jaw as if summoning her courage. “Since you’re a spy—”

“Operative.”

“Whatever. Can you check up on people?”

He paused, surprised by her question. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes seemed to probe his, and then she bunched her shoulders. “Nothing. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Double-speak. A line that meant I’ll tell if you ask again. He wouldn’t.

Seconds stretched between them as she shifted away a few paces and cradled her body with her arms. She pivoted and dropped her arms to her side. “Can you check out Khalid's father?”

Reece kept his expression impassive.

“See if he is … if he has …” She huffed. “To see if he's on the up and up? Can you do that?”

“And why would I?” Something akin to pride trickled through his veins. The girl blew him away. How did she nail Baseer Khan? Toby Roberts, experienced consular grunt, didn’t even see it coming.