The Goddess Legacy (26 page)

Allie spotted a silk robe discarded on a chair. She crawled to it and pulled it off the back, and then made her way back to the window. Drake was looking up at her when she dropped one end toward him and gripped the other. “Climb up,” she said.

He shook his head, and she gestured impatiently. He sighed and reached up, and then, after testing his grip on the robe, used it for leverage and scrambled up the wall, Allie’s feet wedged against the stone base of the window, her arms burning from the strain of supporting his weight.

When he was through the aperture, he lay beside Allie, neither of them daring to move for fear of waking the sleeping holy man. After what seemed like hours she motioned at the case and slid closer to him, her words in his ear soft as a butterfly’s breath.

“Let me get my camera ready. You lift me and I’ll take a shot.”

He shook his head. “The flash will wake him.”

“I can turn it off. There should be enough light from the lamp in the case.”

Drake looked like he wanted to argue, but held his tongue. “Are you sure?”

A particularly loud snore interrupted them, and they froze until the swami’s exhalations normalized. Allie gritted her teeth and put her mouth against Drake’s ear. “You have a better idea?”

“Be a great time for a selfie stick,” he muttered, and then crawled on hands and knees to the base of the display. Allie followed and, after another glance at the bed, nodded to him, her phone in her right hand, the case open and ready. She tapped it to life and turned off the flash, and then elbowed him. Drake rose and repeated his stance from beneath the windows, and she stepped onto his palms, her left hand gripping the side of the case for support. He hoisted her higher until her camera was at the statue’s level, and she took a photo, wincing when the phone produced a shutter sound that seemed as loud as a firecracker in the room.

She’d remembered the flash, but forgotten to mute the volume.

Drake wobbled unsteadily in surprise and she clutched at the case to keep from falling. He regained his footing, but it was too late, and Allie’s expression radiated horror as the case began falling toward her, her weight enough to pull it off balance. She threw herself to the side as Drake dodged the display, and then the case slammed against the floor in an explosion of glass and wood.

“What the–” the swami growled from the bed. Allie bolted for the window, Drake right behind her as the swami’s guards threw open the outer doors and rushed toward the bedroom with guns in their hands.

Jaipur, Rajasthan, India

Spencer squinted at Helms in disbelief, his hands raised. The Englishman took two steps toward him, and Spencer eyed the bandage wrapped around his head.

“How did you get away?” Spencer asked.

“Shut up or I’ll shoot.” Spencer heard the distinctive sound of the revolver’s hammer cocking. “Now here’s how this is going to work. I’m going to throw you a pair of handcuffs. You’re to cuff your hands behind your back while I look for an excuse to blow your head off. The slightest false move and I’ll paint the walls with your brains. Do you understand?”

Spencer nodded. “I can’t see anything with the flashlight in my eyes. Can’t catch what I can’t see.”

The beam adjusted a foot to the side. “Here they come,” Helms said, and tossed the cuffs with his gun hand onto the floor at Spencer’s feet. “Now then. You’re going to reach down with your left arm and, holding your right in the air, pick up the cuffs and snap one closed on your right wrist.”

“And then?”

“If you live through that part, I’ll explain the next step.”

Spencer debated ducking to the side and going for his gun, but Helms looked like he was expecting a trick and was ready to shoot. To try the maneuver would be suicide, and Spencer wasn’t feeling lucky. Instead, he slowly lowered his left hand and bent his knees, feeling for the cuffs on the stone floor without ever taking his eyes off the Brit. His fingers found the cold steel, and he rose to full height and closed a cuff on his wrist.

“Very good. Now, turn around and we’ll cuff the other wrist behind you. Lower your free hand first, and then your right after you’re facing the wall. Do everything nice and easy, or you know what will happen.”

“I’m surprised you can stand up after the clobbering you got,” Spencer said, doing as instructed.

“Ahh…well, that will seem like horseplay after I’m through with you, my boy,” Helms assured him.

When the second cuff was locked into place, Helms grunted and moved toward Spencer. A blow with the gun butt to the side of his head knocked Spencer to the floor, dazed. Blood worried its way down his cheek as Helms felt at Spencer’s waist and retrieved the pistol at his back.

Helms nodded in satisfaction as he slid the weapon into his belt. “I missed that gun. Hard to come by a good one these days. This Smith and Wesson is a poor substitute for a well-maintained Beretta.”

Spencer blinked through a haze of pain and moaned when Helms kicked him in the ribs.

Helms smiled at the sound and stepped away. “It’s lovely to put a name to a face or, in your case, to a sneaky backhanded blow. You’re Everett Spencer, fortune hunter, and soon to be deceased waste of space.”

Spencer remained silent.

“Yes, I know all about you. Easy enough after your idiot girlfriend introduced herself.”

“You should have taken the offer.”

“I couldn’t possibly have stooped so low. Wouldn’t be cricket.”

“Neither is hitting an unarmed man in shackles.”

“Hmm. Must have missed that in the King’s rules,” Helms said. “Now, on your feet. We’re going somewhere nice and quiet so we can have a little chat.”

“And how am I supposed to do that with my hands cuffed behind my back?”

“Very carefully, my boy, very carefully.”

Spencer shook his head to clear it and licked the blood away from where it had pooled in the corner of his mouth. “If you know who we are, you also know that we can afford to make you a very rich man.”

“Yes, well, I’m of an age where there are limits to how much I could do with all that money. Keeping myself safe isn’t one of them if I betray my paymaster. Doesn’t really matter how much I have if I don’t live to enjoy it.”

“You could buy a new identity and move to the other side of the planet.”

“As I said, it’s a persuasive idea. The only problem is I’m not remotely interested.”

“Ten million dollars? That wouldn’t whet your appetite? Imagine what you could do with ten million. Cars. Planes. Gourmet restaurants, fine wine, first-class travel. Girls. Or boys. Whatever you want. You’re seriously telling me that you’re going to turn that down?”

“Afraid I have to.”

“How did you find me?” Spencer asked.

Helms shrugged. “When I left the professor’s house, I had nothing to go on, so I had someone patch me up and then headed to the university to see what I could discover. I overheard his secretary talking about the mosaic in Jaipur with your friend Allie. Didn’t take rocket science from there.” He gave Spencer an ugly grin. “Now get up. I tire of your jabbering.”

Spencer tried to get to his feet, but couldn’t. “You didn’t think this through very well.”

“Get up or I’ll shoot.”

“You don’t get it, do you? Have you ever tried to get off the floor without using your arms? It’s impossible. Might as well tell me to levitate.”

Helms seemed stumped and then exhaled in exasperation and cautiously approached Spencer. “Oh, very well. Come on, then,” he said as he released one of the cuffs, “but no–”

Spencer swung the cuffs as hard as he could against Helms’s head and, with his free right hand, punched him in the face as he went down. Helms screamed in rage and dropped the flashlight, but maintained his grip on the gun. Spencer clubbed him again with the cuffs and wrenched the Englishman’s wrist to the side so he couldn’t shoot, and then grappled with him on the floor, landing blow after blow with the cuffs, pulverizing the Brit’s face with the steel bands.

The pistol fired and Helms stiffened. Spencer rolled away and knocked the gun free. It skittered across the stone and came to rest near the tarp.

He rose and moved to Helms, who was gasping like a beached mackerel, blood bubbling from a wound near the center of his chest. Spencer removed the Beretta from Helms’s belt and patted him down with his free hand to ensure he had no other weapon, and then tossed his wallet and car keys aside.

“Who hired you?” Spencer asked. “You’ll die if I don’t get you help. You must know that. Tell me, and I’ll get you to a hospital.”

Helms fought for breath and curled into a fetal position. Spencer drew closer and knelt beside the dying man.

“Who?” he asked.

Helms was trying to form a word, a name. Spencer edged nearer in an effort to hear whatever he was trying to whisper.

And almost missed the derringer the Englishman drew from an ankle holster and swung toward his head.

The gunshot was loud as a cannon in the temple. Helms flopped back, a neat hole smoking in the center of his forehead, the Beretta trained on him, Spencer’s expression flat.

Bhiwani, Haryana, India

Allie dropped from the window and landed hard on the grass below. Drake lowered himself in a flash and tucked and rolled when he hit the ground, and then they were both on their feet and running as fast as they could. They rounded the corner of the building and made for the dorms as lights flickered on in the residence, and reached the ground floor of the dormitory before they heard yells from the swami’s building.

“What do you want to do?” Drake whispered.

“Think he got a good look at us?”

“Don’t know. But how are we going to explain grass stains on our outfits?”

“Doesn’t leave many options. Let’s see if there’s a way to get over the wall.”

“Or through the gate.”

Allie shook her head. “I doubt that will happen.”

“What about a rear exit?”

“I’m game.”

They ran along the back side of the dorm to the wall that ringed the grounds, and Drake had an overpowering sense of déjà vu – could it really have been only two nights before when he’d been searching for a way off the hotel grounds with Spencer?

“Drake, what is it?” Allie asked.

“Nothing. Come on.”

They stuck close to the wall, its white paint camouflaging their outfits, moving quickly, keeping down. Drake held out his arm to stop Allie when they reached one of the corners, and pointed at a barred service entrance – which was unguarded.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Let’s see if it opens from the inside. If so, we’re outta here.”

“What about our stuff?”

She shrugged. “Couple of backpacks and some ratty clothes. Big deal.”

“But your phone and passport.”

“The local cell’s dust, and I locked my passport in the suitcase. No sweat.”

“What about the claim ticket?”

“I’ve got it and the suitcase key in my phone case. Are we going to try the door, or do you want to wait for them to catch us?”

Drake trotted to the wrought-iron barrier with Allie and tried the lock, but it didn’t budge. He cursed and turned to her with a dark look.

“What’s plan B?” she asked.

He eyed the metal bars. “Climb it. It’s our best shot.” Allie nodded and moved to the gate, limping slightly.

“Are you okay?” Drake asked.

“Fine.” Allie began to pull herself up the ironwork, and when she was at the top, she called down to him, “Don’t look now, but you have about ten seconds before they see us.”

He scrambled up the gate in record time as she lowered herself down the other side, and he dropped next to her with a grunt. Two beggars who were sleeping on a piece of cardboard on the muddy back road looked up at them with half-closed lids. Drake grabbed Allie’s hand and pulled her after him, and they sprinted for the low string of cinder-block dwellings as an alarm sounded from the ashram, wailing over the sounds of shouts from the complex.

They ran into the tangle of buildings and rushed headlong down a dirt alley barely wide enough to accommodate them both, garbage scattered far and wide by scavenging animals searching for scraps. Only a few lights flickered in the surrounding homes. At an intersection of a mud track, they veered left. A motor scooter turned onto the road ahead of them and buzzed in their direction, three passengers on the small bike straining its motor to the limits, and they pressed to the side of the alley till it passed.

They jogged two more long blocks, and when they reached a larger street well away from the ashram, they slowed and considered their plight.

“We need to get in touch with Spencer and let him know what happened,” Allie said.

“How did the picture turn out?”

“I…let’s take a look.” Allie scrolled to her photo album and selected the last image.

Kali’s twisted features glowered at them, her tongue lolling out of her mouth and her ruby eyes staring blindly into space. The image was crisp enough, but murky, the auto-focus having compensated for the darkness as well as it could, which was to say, just barely. Drake pointed at the base of the statue.

“Can you zoom in there?” Allie did so, and they studied the base for a long moment. “Is that the same Sanskrit script?” Drake asked.

“Looks like it. But it wraps around the bottom, so I only got the front.”

“Damn. Well, better than nothing. Maybe there’s enough to put it all together.”

“Which means we need to get back to Delhi and have Divya translate it for us.”

“How? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I still have four hundred bucks.”

“So…taxi?” Drake asked.

“What else?”

“We should try to find the train station. At this hour, that will be the only place where we’d find a cab.”

Allie pointed to a building in the near distance. “Or maybe a big hotel?”

Drake swiveled and saw blinking letters below the roof of a ten-story building. “That should do.”

“Then all we have to do is avoid muggers, beggars, the swami’s goons, and the cops, and we’re golden.”

“Put like that, it’s a cinch.”

They began walking, and Drake drew closer to Allie. “What about Spencer?”