King's Crusade (Seventeen) (15 page)

‘No,’ said Alexa stiffly.

It was a blatant lie and Jackson was not falling for it. ‘I don’t forget a face easily,’ he said. ‘How the hell did he survive that injury? He took a bullet to the head!’

She refrained from replying. There was only one possible explanation to Jackson’s question.

The man had to be an immortal. Which meant that they had gravely underestimated the enemy.

The magnitude of the situation did not escape her. There was more at stake here than her original mission ever encompassed. She had to talk to Reznak.

The blare of sirens rose in the distance. Windows and doors opened along the avenue as the residents of Istiklal came out on the street, their faces reflecting alarm and morbid curiosity. Several monks appeared on the stairs to the church.

Ignoring the suspicious stares from the sentries outside the Russian Consulate, Alexa turned and headed up the road.

‘What the hell’s going on?’ said Jackson, storming after her. ‘You’re hiding something, aren’t you? Talk to me goddamnit!’

The guard outside the Dutch Consulate caught sight of her through the gathering mob. He darted inside his cabin and grabbed the phone on the desk again.

She scowled and broke into a trot. The last thing she wanted was attention from the local authorities.

‘Hey, wait up!’ Jackson called out.

A glow in the sky caught her eyes. Above the clamor of the police cars, Alexa detected the distinct, high-pitched sirens of several fire engines. Suspicion bloomed in her mind. She started to run.

By the time she retraced her steps to the alley that backed onto the rear of the tavern, the entire building was ablaze. She stopped and stared at the flames that engulfed the beer hall. Sleet and rain fell lightly from the sky, the icy drops hissing and steaming as they made contact with the fire.

There was no doubt in her mind that the building had been set alight deliberately.

Anger flashed through her as she thought of the documents and map in the back room; she should have secured them before chasing after the fleeing men.

Jackson’s footfall sounded behind her. ‘Shit,’ he gasped when he reached her side. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him bend over with his hands on his knees. ‘Look, I don’t think we should be here. The cops are gonna be crawling all over this place any minute now. Besides, I—’

Alexa turned to look at him. Movement beyond his shoulder captured her gaze.

A saffron-robed figure stood in the alley a hundred feet from them, in the opposite direction to Istiklal. The man’s face was cast in the shadows of an overhanging porch. He turned and ran.

She bolted after him.

‘For Pete’s sake—’ Jackson groaned behind her.

Alexa chased the monk out of the dark passage and onto a vertiginous road that looked down to the Golden Horn and Topkapi Palace in the distance across the water. He grinned at her over his shoulder. Although the Asian man was shorter and should have been encumbered by the outfit he wore, she found the distance between them growing wider by the second. She gritted her teeth and accelerated.

He darted into a side street and disappeared from view. By the time she entered the steep, terraced lane lined with busy cafes and restaurants, the monk had scaled the barred window of one of the buildings and was pulling himself up onto a first floor balcony. He looked around. She caught another flash of white teeth in the darkness.

Her gaze dropped to the packed street.

She ran down a couple of steps, jumped, and grabbed a vine-covered metal beam that spanned the width of the passage. Swinging herself up into the air, she spun and landed feet down in a wide stance on the horizontal bar. Gasps and cries of amazement rose from the crowd below. The monk nodded in approval before turning and moving nimbly up the face of the building.

Alexa leapt onto an adjacent balustrade and climbed along a parallel path. She reached the flat terrace at the top of the edifice seconds later.

The monk had already cleared the gap to the next apartment complex. She went after him.

The chase was silent but for the sound of their breathing and their rapid footsteps. They dropped and climbed across the ice-covered rooftop landscape of the city, crossing buildings, leaping over shadowy alleyways, and dancing along the edges of balconies. All the while, Alexa could not shake the strange feeling that the monk was toying with her. She smiled grimly and gathered speed.

The distance between them shrank.

She was a dozen feet behind him when he suddenly disappeared. Alexa rocked to a standstill on the edge of a fifty-foot drop and stared down. The monk had vanished. She looked up and scanned the shadows of the surrounding rooftops. Although her every instinct told her he was close by, the saffron-robed figure was nowhere to be seen.

She gazed thoughtfully at the lights along the Bosphorus while her heartbeat slowed down. Finally, she turned and made her way back to Istiklal.

Jackson was sitting on the hood of the Taurus when she reached the side street where she had parked the car. His body was rigid and his eyes were dark.

‘Are we done here?’ he asked.

Alexa got in the car wordlessly. He joined her and slammed the passenger door forcefully. They sat and stared at the avenue a hundred feet ahead.

The busy crowd from earlier had scattered. The majority of the pedestrians had shifted a safe distance from the scenes of the incidents; a morbidly curious few had moved closer to get a better view of the action. Sirens blared and lights flashed against the frontage of buildings as patrol cars and ambulances raced into the neighborhood.

‘If Reznak and you want my help beyond this, we’re gonna have to lay down some ground rules,’ said Jackson in a low, flat voice. ‘No more secrets—or I walk.’

Alexa remained silent. It was the first time she had heard genuine anger in Jackson’s voice. This was hardly a surprise after what he had just experienced. Still, it troubled her.

She switched the engine on and pulled away from the curb. After heading down the hill and crossing the Galata Bridge, she turned left toward Seraglio Point. Moments later, she stopped the Taurus on the seafront next to a lighthouse beyond the defensive sea walls that once protected Istanbul and Topkapi Palace. Grabbing the satellite phone from her bag, she climbed out of the car and crossed the road to the promenade that looked out over the bay. At this late hour, the concrete walkway was practically deserted.

Jackson got out of the Taurus and leaned against the hood while she made the call.

‘It’s Alexa,’ she said bluntly when Reznak answered.

‘What’s wrong?’ said her godfather tensely at her tone.

She gave him a brief rundown of the events of the last twenty-four hours, starting with the attack in Port Said and ending with her chase of the monk. Now that the excitement of the recent fight had abated, the gravity of the situation impressed itself upon her once more.

‘Do you have a name for this…sect?’ Reznak asked after she finished her account.

‘No. Jackson’s friend didn’t know either, nor do the Crovir techs,’ said Alexa. ‘The only thing we can be confident of is the
Rose Croix
connection.’ A ferryboat drifted past slowly less than half a mile from where she stood, its thrusters churning the waters of the Sea of Marmara. A phosphorescent glow tipped the waves in its wake. It started to snow heavily.

‘I’ve come across a few of these esoteric societies in my time,’ said Reznak. ‘Some of their members were not the most...balanced individuals I have ever met.’

‘Did you ever encounter one with associations with the immortal societies?’

‘No,’ said Reznak firmly. ‘That I can be certain of.’

She stared into the night and recalled cold gray eyes and an inscrutable face. ‘The red-haired man I fought an hour ago knew I was an immortal.’

‘He won’t be the first or last human who is aware of the existence of our races,’ said her godfather steadily.

‘And the monk?’

Static travelled down the line. ‘Do you think he meant you harm?’ asked Reznak.

Alexa pondered the question for silent seconds. ‘No,’ she replied. ‘I don’t believe he’s part of the group who raided the tombs either.’

‘Hmm,’ murmured Reznak. ‘I wonder—’ He lapsed into silence.

‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’ she asked in clipped tones.

‘I think I might know who the monk is,’ said Reznak in an enigmatic voice. ‘I’ll have to look into it further.’

She glanced across the street to where Jackson was leaning against the hire car. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her face. ‘We have a problem,’ she said quietly into the mouthpiece. ‘Jackson saw the immortal I killed rise again. He won’t cooperate unless we tell him the truth.’

Reznak’s breathing froze at the other end of the line. ‘Damn it,’ her godfather muttered, exhaling sharply. ‘You’re certain he won’t buy—’

‘He’s too smart for that,’ she interrupted brusquely.

‘What do you want to do?’ said Reznak after several seconds.

Alexa was startled by his words. ‘You’re happy to leave this decision to me?’

‘Yes,’ said Reznak. He sighed. ‘Frankly, I wish we could do without the man, but I fear we’re going to need his skills even more in the coming days.’

She stared blindly at the falling snow. ‘I agree,’ she said slowly. There was no denying that Jackson’s presence was crucial to her mission. He was better than any database system she had ever had access to and was an expert hacker to boot.

‘But bear this in mind,’ said Reznak in a warning tone. ‘If you do decide to tell him about us, he will have to keep it a secret for the rest of his life.’ Her godfather paused. ‘You more than anyone know the potential ramifications if he doesn’t. The Crovirs do not forgive easily.’

Alexa mulled over his words silently. ‘Will you talk to the First Council?’ she asked finally. ‘This recent incident exceeds the remit of the Immortal Culture and History Section.’

‘Yes,’ said Reznak. Another sigh left his lips. ‘I have no choice, though I sorely wish I did. We’re about to appoint a permanent Head of the Order of Crovir Hunters. I guess now is as good a time as any to broach the subject.’

She frowned at this latest news. ‘Is this likely to affect the mission?’

‘No,’ said Reznak adamantly. ‘It’s in our interest to secure those tombs.’

Her gaze shifted to the dark waters washing onto the rocky shore fifty feet away. ‘Have you got anything on Dragov?’

‘Yes,’ said Reznak. ‘A man matching the description you gave was spotted in Budapest and Rome in the last month. I have people on the ground making enquiries.’

Alexa digested this information thoughtfully. ‘Budapest is closer,’ she murmured absent-mindedly.

She felt the shift in Reznak’s mood. ‘Stay put,’ her godfather said curtly. ‘I’ll have more information in the next few hours. In the meantime, you need to lie low.’ He ended the call.

She lowered the phone and studied the white curtain of sleet for a moment before walking back to the car.

‘Well?’ said Jackson, raising his eyebrows. Snow had melted in his hair and soaked through his clothes.

She glanced at his injured arm. ‘We need to see to that.’

Chapter Twelve

A
lexa drove to a small
hotel in the Sultanahmet district of Istanbul and booked them into a suite. The receptionist overlooked their unkempt attire and smiled diplomatically while he took down the details of the fake passports.

Jackson whistled appreciatively when they entered the room. He crossed the polished parquet floor and dropped onto a beautiful, silk-upholstered, gilded chair. The duffel bag thudded dully to the ground next to his feet. A sigh left his lips and he closed his eyes.

Alexa locked the door and closed the curtains on the French doors and windows that overlooked the old city. She removed her medical kit from her bag and turned to Jackson. ‘Strip,’ she said.

His eyes snapped open. ‘Huh?’ His surprised gaze darted to the king-sized bed that dominated the room before focusing on her face.

‘Your wound. I need to examine it,’ she said steadily.

‘Oh.’ A faint look of what might have been disappointment flitted across his features. He shrugged out of his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. She pulled a bed end stool across to the chair.

The bullet had carved a gash in the flesh of his outer arm. He would not need any stitches. She set about cleaning the injury quickly and efficiently.

A faint hiss escaped Jackson’s lips when she dabbed the wound with an antiseptic preparation. His breath washed over her cheek, making her skin tingle. She tensed slightly and tried to ignore the dusting of freckles across his shoulder.

‘Thanks,’ he murmured when she finished applying the dressing.

Alexa looked up. His face was inches from hers. The blue eyes had darkened to cobalt. His eyelids lowered as his gaze dropped to her mouth.

A hot, unfamiliar feeling uncoiled inside her chest. She stood and strode to the bed.

‘You should be fine in a few days,’ she said, her back to him while she put away her kit. She thought she heard him sigh.

‘What did you and Reznak talk about?’ he asked. ‘I hope you told him I’m not gonna play ball until you guys come clean about whatever it is you’re so determined to hide from me.’ His tone hardened on his last words.

Alexa turned and watched him guardedly. She had played out this conversation several times in her head during the drive to the hotel.

A crucial aspect of all the assignments she had ever undertaken for the Crovir Councils had been to keep the existence of immortals a secret from the eyes of ordinary humans. Deliberately having to expose the reality of her race was a novel and disturbing experience for her.

Yet, as she was coming to realize, Jackson was no ordinary human. He possessed one of the most brilliant minds she had ever encountered in her three centuries of existence to date.