Sin and Sacrifice (11 page)

Suddenly, the battle went
silent beyond the windows.

What did that mean? Where
were Rhett and Christian? Aristo? In a car, she would have been
able to tell if the driver had been shot. In a boat, it was much
harder to detect if they were veering off course because the man at
the helm was no longer in control.

Her mind ran wild with
suppositions. Any second she expected to hear running feet on the
deck. Time slowed down and her focus became pinpointed on the
door.

Don't forget to take the
safety off.

It's you or them. Kill or
be killed.

Remember
Galiana.

Were they speeding up?
Slowing down? Frustrated that she couldn't tell, she considered
going back to the window. The not knowing whether they'd been
boarded was making her ill.

The lock rattled when
someone tried to open the door. Evelyn pointed the gun right at it,
fingers shaking so bad that the muzzle swayed and pitched. At the
last second she remembered to take off the safety.

“
Evelyn, it's Rhett. Open
the door.”

She sagged with relief.
Re-engaging the safety, she set the gun on the bed and lurched to
her feet. She barely had the lock snapped over when Rhett opened
the door, forcing her back a few steps when he bulled his way in.
His shoulders and jaw were tight with tension. Glittering, his eyes
seemed feverish, raking over her with ruthless scrutiny.

“
Are you all right?” he
asked in a tight voice.

“
I'm fine, I'm fine. What
happened? Is everyone else okay?” Evelyn forgot to be irritated
with him. She looked him over for wounds just like he did her,
relieved when she didn't see any gushing founts of
blood.

“
Everyone's all right.”
His mouth thinned when he saw the bullet holes in the wall and
above the window. Walking over, he glanced out at the darkness and
then at her. “We disabled their boat. Unless they have another one
on the water—and radar hasn't detected anything close by—then I
think we'll make it to Cairo without another incident.”

“
How did they find us? I
mean, even if they
did
track me from the bank, they couldn't have known I left Crete
or which direction I was going.”

“
Have you checked yourself
for anything strange? Black dots on your skin? Looked at your back
in the mirror? If they'd put the trace on your old clothing, they
wouldn't have known we were here. But they would if they'd attached
it to your body.” Leaving the window, he came to stand right in
front of her, weapons all tucked into his shoulder
holster.

“
Wait, what? You think
they've put a trace on me? But I took a shower earlier, shouldn't
that have disabled it?” The thought hadn't crossed her mind. It
explained how they'd found them, though.

“
No. Why don't you take
off your shirt and I'll check your back.” He made a curt gesture
with his hand toward the small bathroom.

The irony of the situation
didn't escape her. Just yesterday, she'd demanded the same thing of
him.
Take off your shirt,
she'd insisted.

It wasn't such a monumental
task, or even something she was shy about doing. The bra she wore
wasn't her own, but it fit well and covered more than most bikinis
would have.

Her hesitation came only
in the realization that she was exposing herself to
him.
She didn't want it
to matter what he thought. Whether he liked what he saw. Impatient
with her own thoughts, she stepped back into the bathroom and
switched on the light. Longer than it was wide, decorated as clean
and neat as the bedrooms, the bathroom sported burnished gold
accents and a rectangular mirror. The soft illumination picked out
the auburn highlights in her hair and made what remained of her
bruises seem less harsh. They were just vague, yellowish patches
that were hard to see unless you were really looking.

Rhett loomed out of the
gloom of the bedroom and stood directly behind her. The contrast of
his masculinity and her femininity couldn't be more noticeable. He
was broad and muscular and she looked almost dainty in comparison.
The make up she'd applied made her hazel eyes more dramatic; his
peered out from under the ridge of his brow like a predator, sharp
and assessing. She couldn't remember the last time a man had
affected her like this and silently chided herself for her
distractions. Snatching handfuls of the shirt, she drug it over her
head, leaving it caught around her wrists in a way that would make
it easier to put back on when he was done.

The wisp of his hand
against her hair, moving it out of the way, made her shiver.
Watching him in the mirror, she saw his gaze dart to a specific
spot on her back.

“
Shit.” Peeling something
off the inside her shoulder blade, he presented it on the tip of
his finger around the side of her arm. “We should have known.”
Rhett sounded disgusted they hadn't done this sooner.

Evelyn glanced at the tiny
black dot, no bigger than the eraser on a pencil, sitting on the
end of his finger. It had a small, raised center but overall, she
thought it looked harmless. Innocuous. Certainly not able to
withstand a dousing in water. She met his eyes.

“
That's
it? They've tracked us with that little
thing?”

“
Yes. I don't see any more
on your back but it wouldn't hurt to give yourself a thorough
looking over. Check your scalp. I really don't think they'd put
more than one on at a time, but you can't be too
careful.”

“
They'll all look like
this?” Evelyn hated the thought someone was monitoring her every
move. If she had been honest with Rhett about who was searching for
her from the beginning, perhaps he would have understood they were
capable of this. She'd led him in blind, understating the
danger.

“
Pretty much. I'm going to
go get rid of this one. We'll have to take cover quick in Cairo. I
thought we'd be able to buy ourselves some time but they'll be
expecting us now.” Taking the tracing device, he met her eyes in
the mirror once more and left the room.

While he was gone, freaked
out by the thought someone had attached things to her body, she
stripped the rest of her clothes off. She searched everywhere;
behind her knees, the nape of her neck, over her scalp. Using the
mirror, she checked her back again, though she knew Rhett wouldn't
have overlooked anything else. There seemed to be no more of those
tiny black dots anywhere on her person. Only marginally relieved,
she got dressed and went out on deck in search of her
agent.

Darkness blanketed the sky
like a comfortable lover, soothing in its endless serenity. The
stars seemed even brighter than they had before the attack of the
boat, glimmering like diamond dust. Evelyn saw no evidence of their
attackers, no out-of-place spotlight on the horizon. Taking a deep
breath, she scanned the lowest deck for signs of Rhett.

She found Christian near
the rail, smoke trailing up like winsome phantoms from the burning
end of a cigarette. He didn't look any worse for wear from the
confrontation and still had his shoulder holster on over clothes
that blended with the night. Although not as tall or as broad as
Rhett, Christian was not a small man. Physically fit, he had a
leaner, more tapered appearance through the abdomen and hips. He
gave her the impression he could be quick when he wanted to
be.

Evelyn wondered how much
conditioning or experience it took for someone to become accustomed
to shootouts. Maybe they
weren't
conditioned and were only better at hiding it
than she was.

“
Christian?”

He glanced over.
“Yes?”

“
Is Rhett
busy?”

“
He's with Aristo, going
over new plans for arrival in Port Said. Is something wrong?” His
brows furrowed either with curiosity or concern.

Evelyn didn't know him well
enough yet to tell the difference. Leaning her hip against the side
of the boat, she said, “I'm wondering just what kind of connections
these people have to be able to put tracing devices on me and
freeze my bank account.”

Not for the first time, she
felt like such a deceiver asking her question. Evelyn knew
firsthand who was doing this to her, and why. Even then, she
couldn't have fathomed the Templar's reach. Their utter ability to
manipulate the system any way they apparently saw fit. It unnerved
her and she wanted to know what was going on in Rhett and
Christian's mind. What they personally thought about the incidents.
Christian didn't hesitate to answer.

“
The highest kind, Miss
Grant. They seem to be able to pull any strings they want to, which
makes them not only dangerous, but unpredictable.” Dragging off the
cigarette, he exhaled and flicked the spent butt out into the
water.

“
And you guys haven't
found out anything more about them yet?”

“
No. Our boss keeps coming
up against walls with his queries. They're like ghosts, all but
untraceable themselves and good at covering their tracks. Whatever
they want you and your friends for, it must be something big.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, he watched her while at the same
time, seeming to keep up a constant survey of the night around
them.

Evelyn shifted
uncomfortably and forced herself to keep her attention on his face.
She latched onto the opportunity he gave her to change the subject
off
why
the
Templars wanted her. “Speaking of my friends. I'd like to know if
you can help us with...Galiana. We're—or I'm—the only one who can
make any arrangements for her burial. But I'm a little afraid to do
anything and now that they've frozen my account, I can't exactly do
what I need to.”

“
What do you need help
with, Miss Grant?” Christian looked and sounded like he sincerely
wanted to help.

“
Well, for starters, we
need to find out where she's being kept--”

“
Her body is at
Papadopoulos Mortuary right now. They told my boss they'll hold the
body for another three days and after that, she'll be cremated and
her remains relegated to an ossuary of their choice.”

“
No, no. That can't
happen. She needs to be buried.” Evelyn choked on the last word.
The tension and strain of the last several days threatened to
overwhelm her. All of a sudden, she struggled not to give in to
more tears for her lost sister. Cremation was always a last,
desperate choice when there was nothing else they could do to stop
it. They preferred their bodies returned to the earth they sprung
from.

Lifting a shaky hand, she
rubbed at her temple.

She felt a headache coming
on.

“
I can ask my boss if
he'll make the arrangements through you,” Christian offered, like
he'd interpreted the brow rub as a distress signal.

“
Yes, please. Can't you
guys override the freeze on my accounts?” Evelyn didn't understand
why the Templars had more pull than the government. What the
Knights were doing was illegal, wasn't it? Never mind she was the
victim here. That was her bank account being messed
with.

“
For one, we didn't know
they were locked until Crete. Two, he needs your permission to try
and we've been a little...busy...the past few hours. But I'll see
what he can do.”

“
Then go ahead. You have
my permission. What about my other friends? I think we should count
them missing by now.”

“
How can you say they're
missing if you haven't been in touch with them? They might be
anywhere in Athens or maybe even left the country for home,” he
said.

Evelyn didn't want to
explain about their secret email set up. “None of them have called
or texted me back, and they would have after all this. Just to let
me know they were okay. I've heard nothing from any of
them.”

“
We're looking for them,
Miss Grant.” He reached out to touch her shoulder reassuringly.
“The second we know something, Rhett or I will tell
you.”

The fresh tension sliding
through her frame eased at his reassurance, even if she wasn't
convinced her sisters were safe. “Thanks, Christian. I think I'm
going to go try and get some sleep.”

“
That's a good idea.
Things might get hectic in Cairo.” Pulling a soft pack from the
front pocket of his coat, he shook free another cigarette and lit
it with a lighter tucked into the plastic lining.

With a grateful smile,
refusing to worry about what might happen in Egypt, Evelyn headed
for her stateroom.

Dusk settled over the
architectural wonders of Port Said in an orange film of muted
light. High spires, swooping arches and arabesque shapes made a
stunning silhouette against the encroaching evening.

Rhett used his body to
forge a path through the sea of humanity, marching them away from
the busy harbor into the busier city. It almost felt like they were
salmon, swimming upstream against an impossible current. An entity
unto itself, the crowd milled and swarmed in all directions. One
second she was beset by the stench of strong body odor, the next a
sickening smell of over ripe perfume clogged her senses. Long robes
lapped at the ankles of women who kept their gaze down while brazen
tourists paused in the most inappropriate places for
pictures.