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He laughed. “I haven’t become successful by being stupid, Mr. Stone. Now, why don’t you answer my question?”
I ground my teeth, rage coursing through me with nowhere to go. “What if I just tell you to fuck off instead?”
“You know, that’s a quality private school that you pay for your nieces to attend. Fernglen Academy, right?”
Not a lot of things got to me anymore. I’d been shot at, stabbed once, broken more noses in fist fights than I can count, and more recently, faced a crime Syndicate that probably outgunned my company three to one. The name of my niece's school, though, made my knees feel weak. I sank into the patio chair, the shock so intense that my fingers went numb.
“What do you want?” I asked simply. What else was there to do, with my sister’s daughters on the line?
“Tell me what you’re searching for.”
“The Anubis effigy from Pharaoh Akhenaten’s tomb. The one that Geoff Curtis and Trevor Smith stole from a smuggler’s shipment about a year and a half ago.”
“And have you found anything?”
“Not much. I had some success today.” I swallowed hard, trying to keep my pulse from racing. “This is obviously a shakedown. What are you asking for, Shadow?”
“I just want what was taken from me. That’s it. My team hasn’t found the safehouse you’ve stored your family at yet, but sending the kids to school was a rookie move. If you say you’ve had some success, I can cut you a deal. Hand the effigy over within a week, and I’ll call off my mercs, both from your sister and nieces, and you and Rachel Starr.”
Hearing her name in his mouth made acid rise in my throat, even if logically I already knew that the Dark Hand had found her. “A month.”
Shadow guffawed. “Two weeks, and I’m only offering that because you and this Rachel have managed to find more than my intelligence division. So, is it a deal?”
“It’s a deal,” I echoed, even though the words tasted like bile in my mouth.
“If I find out that you have the statue and haven’t turned it over, I’ll have them all killed immediately.”
“Understood.”
“Perfect. Enjoy your two weeks of peace.” I could almost hear the slimy smile in his voice. “Nice doing business with you, Mr. Stone.”
The line went dead. I had to resist the urge to throw the phone down into the traffic. Two weeks. Twofuckingweeks was all I had to find something that might be buried in the desert or at the bottom of the ocean.
“Fuck,” I growled. “FUCK!”
I shoved the phone back into my pocket and turned my head to the sky, closing my eyes. This could work in our favor, but only if luck was on our side.
I didn’t know how I’d tell Rachel that, unless we found this fucking effigy, there was a two-week expiration date on her life.
Chapter Twenty Two
Rachel
8:22 p.m. the previous day
Maybe I should have felt guilty for being on top of the world, but I couldn’t. Not with things going the way they were. Back at the table, I had a freshly uncorked bottle of my favorite red waiting, as well as a gorgeous giant of a man that looked at me like I hung the moon. Tonight, I was not Rachel the almost-widow, or Rachel the woman being hunted by a drug syndicate, I was just Rachel Starr. Young, beautiful, desirable, and in the company of someone who was becoming more dear to me by the minute. This is what I wanted my life to be like, always, and when this whole ordeal with the statue was over, I was going to make it a reality.
Looking in the restroom mirror, none of the horrible things I had been through were visible. There was no obligation to let them hold me down. I touched up my makeup, adjusted my dress, and opened the door to go back to the table, but when I stepped out, a tall, shadowy figure blocked my way.
For one horrifying moment, I thought he was a mercenary, and fear leapt into my throat, threatening a scream. But before I could make a sound, the figure stepped forward, forcing me back a step into the bathroom and coming into the light.
“Mirroring,” Maestro said, “Is going to be very important for you in the upcoming forty-eight hours, dear Rachel.”
I sucked in a shuddering breath, and for the first time since Maestro had come into my life, I considered striking him. One look into his serene face, though, and the urge fled. “Why do you insist on scaring me so badly?”
He smiled down at me beatifically. “Maybe you’re just a nervous person.”
I crossed my arms. “Or maybe anyone would be freaked out being cornered in a restaurant bathroom, or in their own backyard; did you ever think of that?”
