Read King's Crusade (Seventeen) Online
Authors: AD Starrling
She bore only hazy recollections of the time when he had found her on the battlefield outside Narva. Once the Crovir noble realized that she would not regain her memory, and after his attempts to trace her family came to a dead end, he took her under his wing and brought her to his home. Over the following decade, Alexa was educated by the finest human and immortal tutors in Europe, not only in conventional subjects such as the sciences, languages, and literature, but also in the art of war; as Reznak quickly discovered, she excelled in all forms of combat.
It was not until she entered immortal adulthood at the age of eighteen and her aging slowed that she sensed her mentor had developed an attraction for her. Yet Reznak never once acted on his desires. Alexa had always wondered whether this was because of some outdated feeling of chivalry and morality or just that the prospect had literally scared him. As time passed, he seemed to come to terms with his feelings for her.
Though she would never admit it to him, Reznak was not an unattractive man. Nearly seven hundred years old in immortal terms, he looked like a human in his fifties, and had kept himself in shape over the years. He had a strong and compelling presence most women found alluring.
‘Alexa,’ Reznak said with a formal nod as he took the seat opposite hers.
‘Dimitri,’ she murmured in response. She glanced to where his bodyguards hovered by the door and the bar, their hooded eyes scanning the room before acknowledging her with a stare. ‘What’s this about?’ she said, her gaze switching to her mentor’s face.
Reznak did not reply immediately. ‘I hear your mission went well,’ he said with a faintly indulgent smile.
Alexa clenched her teeth. All she wanted to do right now was catch the next flight to New York and return to the peaceful solitude of her apartment in Manhattan. ‘It did,’ she said briskly.
‘Good,’ said Reznak. His expression sobered. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. ‘I have another assignment for you.’
‘I haven’t heard anything from the First Council,’ she said after a short silence.
Reznak shook his head. ‘You won’t be working for the First Council on this occasion.’ His eyes were steady on her face. ‘You’ll be answering directly to me.’
Alexa raised her eyebrows. ‘Is the Council aware of this?’
A grimace crossed Reznak’s lips. ‘Not yet,’ he replied grudgingly. ‘I’ll be informing them shortly that I’ve appropriated you for a…special quest for the Immortal Culture and History Section. That’s if you accept the mission, of course.’
She studied his troubled countenance. ‘It’s not really my territory,’ she said.
Reznak sighed.
Alexa observed the shadows under his eyes with a trace of concern. She knew of the pressures that had befallen him in the weeks following the death of the last leader of the Crovirs. Because of the latter’s actions, they had been on the verge of another immortal war with the Bastians, their enemy of old. Reznak had been part of a group of Crovir and Bastian nobles who had helped avert the disaster. She had been on a mission in South America at the time and had not been directly involved in the action.
‘I know it isn’t,’ her godfather murmured. Something shifted in his eyes. ‘But I need you for this. You’re the only one who can take on this assignment.’
The look on his face was unsettling. Alexa had never seen it before. ‘You have access to dozens of specialists in your section,’ she said calmly. ‘If you need somebody to do the grunt work, ask the Hunters.’
Reznak gazed at her unwaveringly. It was then that she realized what his expression reminded her of. It was the look of someone about to impart unwanted news. ‘None of them have the birthmark on the back of your neck,’ he said quietly.
She stiffened. ‘What do you mean?’ she demanded in a voice laced with an edge of steel.
For the next half hour, her godfather recounted his extraordinary findings in Egypt over a month ago. Having lived with him for several decades, Alexa was long aware of his obsessive quest to discover the truth about the origins of the immortal races. She found the whole thing faintly amusing, as the only time he showed any real passion was when he discussed the subject.
She grew still when he described the carving in the floor of the second cave he had discovered. She listened intently as he told her of his suspicions about what had gone missing from the first cave.
A strained hush fell between them after he finished talking. Alexa sensed he had not told her everything. ‘You want me to find out who looted the first cave and bring back the missing artifacts?’ she asked, her tone not betraying her displeasure.
‘Yes, essentially,’ Reznak replied. ‘I have hope that this mission will also shed some light on your past.’ His gaze shifted to his hands. ‘You’ll have to keep this a secret from the Crovir First Council. The fewer people who know about it, the better.’
She stared at him. Her origins were not something she worried about excessively; despite her missing years, she knew who and what she was. But she was aware that the subject had long frustrated Reznak. For some reason, he felt he owed her the truth. It was the only other thing he was truly passionate about.
‘You’re hiding something,’ Alexa finally said bluntly.
Her godfather’s expression grew shuttered. He leaned back in the chair. ‘I won’t deny that,’ he said carefully. ‘I have never lied to you. Just call it a deliberate…omission.’
She scowled. ‘Why?’
‘Let’s just say that there are other people involved in this, and it’s not up to me to reveal their secrets,’ he said with a sigh. ‘If and when it becomes appropriate to tell you the rest of their story, I shall do so.’
She mulled this over for a silent moment. ‘Okay,’ she said finally.
A smile dawned on Reznak’s face. It lost some of its shine when he appeared to recall something unpleasant. ‘There’s one more thing.’
Chapter Three
T
en hours later, Alexa stood
in the middle of an apartment near the Back Bay area of Boston and wondered briefly whether her godfather had lost his mind. She studied the mess around her.
It had been childishly easy to break into the building. No doorman guarded the entrance to the tower block, and she had yet to see a single security camera in the entire place. Getting past the front door of the apartment had taken less than five seconds; there were no alarm systems for her to override, and a monkey could have picked the lock.
It was glaringly obvious from the narrow vestibule that the place belonged to a man. It had the generic air of chaos that only the male half of the human species could generate.
A pile of unopened mail sat on a side table in the hallway. Half of it was bills. The rest was a mixture of junk post and letters from distinguished universities and museums from around the world. There were several invites to conferences and lectures on obscure subjects in anthropology.
A door on the right opened onto a kitchen. It would have been warm and inviting but for the stack of dirty dishes spilling over the sink, the cluttered countertops, and the mildly offensive smell drifting from the direction of the garbage container. Alexa walked to the fridge and examined its contents with a critical eye. It contained a surprising quantity of healthy food, a positive find that was nullified by the open carton of milk next to the microwave.
Opposite the kitchen was a study that looked like ground zero of some catastrophic doomsday event. The polished floorboards were barely visible under a scattering of journals and books, while the MacBook Pro on the mahogany desk looked perilously close to being crushed under the avalanche of tomes piled atop it. The walls were solid floor-to-ceiling bookcases.
The bathroom was unexpectedly bright and clean. A pair of worn running shoes was neatly arranged under the sink.
Alexa stopped briefly in the open doorway to the bedroom and frowned at what she saw. She decided it could wait. At the bottom of the hall was a large sitting room with panoramic bay windows. She stopped in the middle of the hardwood floor and stared at the dark blue waters of the Charles River Basin visible through the gap between the buildings at the end of the road. She turned and looked around.
One wall of the room was taken up with dozens of picture frames depicting shots of archaeological digs from around the world. A bright-eyed man with an infectious smile was featured in most of them. A set of used boxing gloves hung from a hook above a narrow mantel, which held several university boxing trophies. An eclectic collection of furniture, sculptures, and artifacts made up the rest of the decor.
There were more books and a half-eaten pizza wilting on the coffee table.
The place was as far removed from her own apartment in New York as the sun was from the moon. Her frown deepened. She had seen enough.
She strolled back to the bedroom, stopped at the foot of the bed, and stared at the two figures sleeping under the sheets.
‘Zachary Jackson?’ she said coldly.
There was no response from the inert forms on the mattress. She kicked the oak frame sharply.
A startled ‘Whaza—huh?!’ erupted from the figure on the right. The man jerked upright and looked at her blearily. The cotton sheet slid down and came to rest just above his groin.
Zachary Jackson looked to be a good six-foot-two. The muscles of his chest, stomach, and arms were hard and well defined, and he had a surprisingly athletic frame for an academic. Alexa recalled the boxing gloves and the running shoes in the apartment.
Fine stubble dusted his strong jaw and upper lip. Above it, ice-blue eyes gazed at her sleepily under a mop of dark blond hair.
According to Reznak, she was currently looking at one of the most intelligent humans on the planet.
Alexa was not impressed. She sensed the other things Reznak had told her about the man would turn out to be unerringly true.
The languid expression in his blue eyes slowly cleared. The man stared at her with a puzzled air. Male appreciation dawned on his features as his gaze skimmed her figure.
The woman next to him stirred and pushed herself up on one elbow. She clutched the sheet to her naked breasts and blinked at Alexa. Her eyes widened. ‘You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend,’ she said, turning an accusing glare on Jackson.
‘I don’t,’ the latter replied with a casual shrug, still staring at Alexa. ‘Besides, if I had a lady friend, she would be…bustier.’ His gaze dropped briefly to her chest.
Alexa let the insult slide and looked at the woman in the bed. ‘Get dressed and get out.’ She picked up the scattered lingerie, high heels, and cocktail dress on the floor, and threw them toward her.
An outraged gasp left the woman’s lips when the bundle landed on her chest. ‘Hey! Are you going to let her talk to me like that?’ she demanded shrilly of Jackson.
An amused smile tugged at the man’s lips. He glanced at the woman beside him. ‘Not that last night wasn’t fun babe,’ he drawled, ‘but I’d do as the scary lady said if I were you. She looks like she’s in a filthy mood.’
The woman scowled at Alexa. ‘Well, I won’t tolerate this bitch—’ The bullet hit the headboard next to her right shoulder with a muffled thud. A sharp cry escaped her lips.
‘What the—’ Jackson’s smile slipped from his face and he stared at the gash in the oak wood frame. He turned and watched Alexa as if she were a rabid dog.
She lowered the Sig. For the sake of discretion, she had put a suppressor on the end of the gun.
The woman in the bed opened and closed her mouth soundlessly. She stumbled out from under the covers, wrapped one of the sheets hastily around her, grabbed her clothes and shoes, and ran from the room. The sound of the front door slamming shut came seconds later.
Alexa’s eyes never left the man in the bed.
‘Who the hell are you and what do you want?’ said Jackson. He folded his arms and leaned back against the headboard, his face stony.
‘My name is Alexa King. Dimitri Reznak wants to hire you for a job.’
‘Reznak? I thought that guy never wanted to have anything to do with me again.’ His face darkened. ‘In fact, the last time I spoke to him, he threatened to sue me.’
Alexa watched him steadily. She wished he would put some clothes on; his nakedness was starting to irritate her. ‘He believes you’re the only one who possesses the necessary knowledge and skills to assist with this particular assignment,’ she said in a flat tone.
Jackson looked singularly unconvinced. He kicked off the sheet, grabbed a pair of jeans from the floor, and stepped into them. She did not avert her gaze from his naked body. ‘Look,’ said the man in a disgruntled tone, ‘tell Reznak I’m busy. I have a hundred other things to do, and I really don’t have time for one of his games—’
‘The fee is five million dollars,’ said Alexa bluntly.
Jackson froze in the act of zipping up his jeans. He turned slowly and stared at her. ‘What?’
‘Reznak is willing to pay you five million dollars if you take the job,’ said Alexa.
‘That’s more than…’ he looked at his fingers dazedly, ‘a hundred times what he paid me for that dig ten years ago!’ He sat down heavily on the bed. The mattress springs creaked beneath him. He gazed blindly at the wall.
Alexa shifted impatiently. ‘So, what’s it to be?’
Jackson looked at her with a glazed expression. ‘What exactly is this “assignment”?’
‘I can only tell you that after you’ve accepted and signed a confidentiality agreement,’ she replied.
His blue eyes grew more focused and the frown returned to his face. ‘He wants me to put my name to one of those convoluted legal documents again?’ he said darkly.
She shrugged. ‘That’s the deal.’
He rose and walked past her. Alexa caught his scent as she turned to follow him out of the bedroom. It made her think of campfires and expensive bourbon.
She stood in the doorway to the kitchen and watched him turn the coffee machine on. He leaned against the sink, his expression thoughtful, seemingly oblivious to her presence. Sunbeams slipped through the blinds of the window behind him and shone on his skin. He had a golden tan. She wondered whether he worked outdoors—or maybe he liked running without a shirt on.
‘Can you at least tell me where it is?’ said Jackson.
Distracted by the scattering of freckles above his collarbone, Alexa looked at him blankly. ‘Egypt,’ she said, successfully masking the irritation darting through her. She must be more tired than she thought.