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“Like I said, just cleaning up loose ends. We’ve all but relocated to Amsterdam and London, but we scouted and set up everything for almost a year before we performed our jobs to perfection these past two months. These gorgeous mountains were the ideal spot to dump bodies and made our job a piece of cake. I hate to move on but a bit of a challenge is never out of line, now is it?” He nodded to Aliya. “You’ve been a challenge. How did you survive that ride down the mountain in a raging river? I don’t remember the last time I ran so quick, but I completely lost track of you. Only when I heard the helicopter did I realize you might’ve survived and gotten help.”
She remembered it all. Jared and Ammon getting to know her and Gracie. The hike. Gracie’s screams. Fighting for her life. Running from Jared. Falling into that churning stream and thinking she’d drown as she was swept down the mountainside. Flinging off the waterfall. Fear filled her, but then … waking up to Curt’s blue eyes and reassuring presence.
“We heard through the hikers’ grapevine that the trails from Austria to Augustine were open again and the investigation was dying down. A few hikers relayed that Prince Curtis’s cabin was being guarded heavily for some unknown reason. We befriended some Augustine guards at a bar in Traverse. After enough alcohol, one of them finally admitted they’d guarded a beautiful American and Prince Curtis.”
“Don’t kill him,” Aliya begged, horror making her throat thick. “I’ll go with you. Just let him live.”
“Now, love. Do you not understand what tying up loose ends means?” His mouth hardened. “You’ll go with us, and he’ll die.”
Two quick shots rang out in the night, distinct even through the downpour.
“No!” Aliya screamed. Ammon had killed the other guard.
Jared smiled. No one spoke or moved as Jared and Curt both held their weapons steadily. Aliya’s gaze flickered to the poor guard splayed face down on the porch. Dead. Because of her. Because of Jared. And Gracie was dead because of Ammon.
She couldn’t let Curt die. Could she step in front of him? Take the bullets Jared would aim at him? She should act now before …
Ammon jogged up the porch steps, holding the pistol and smiling. “Great to see you again, Aliya. You remembered who we are, yeah?”
“You’re scum of the earth, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Ah, that Southern sass,” Jared said. “I fancy it. I really do. Do you remember I gave you the option to live, Aliya? And you chose death. Still feeling cheeky and brave?”
Aliya wasn’t brave at all. She was terrified. But she would die either way. She realized now that was the conclusion to her story, but she refused to let Curt die for her.
Jumping in front of Curt, she yelled, “Yes! I’ll die for him!”
Curt pulled her back. Ammon moved to step over the guard’s body, an evil glint in his eyes and his pistol up. He kicked the poor, already dead man.
The guard rolled, yanked on Ammon’s legs, and knocked him to the ground.
Jared looked over at Ammon and the guard.
Curt fired. Jared slammed back against the window and slumped to the ground, releasing the A.R. with a clatter.
Curt fired another bullet into Jared’s head, then ran for the guard and Ammon, who were wrestling for control of the handgun. Curt stepped on Ammon’s hand and ground the heel of his boot into his palm.
Ammon cried out and released the gun. Curt kicked it away. Aliya scrambled for the gun and picked it up. She wasn’t sure who to point it at. Jared looked dead and Ammon stopped fighting as the guard rolled him over and kneeled on his chest.
“Nice move, faking dead,” Curt said.
“The knife in my back took me by surprise, but I must’ve got knocked out when I fell and hit my head,” the man grunted out. “But when he kicked me, it woke me up and I just reacted. Can we pull the knife out now?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think we should move it. We might cause more damage. Are you lightheaded, in pain?” Curt asked.
“I feel all right, but I won’t turn down a ride to the hospital.”
“Okay. Give me a second to look at your wound,” Curt said, not taking his aim off of Ammon. “Aliya, can you come get my satellite phone and call Ray?”
“Of course.” She hurried to him, setting the pistol down on a side table and taking the phone he offered. She pushed on Prince Raymond’s number and told Curt, “You’re the bravest and hunkiest prince in the world.”
He smiled, despite the tenseness of the situation. “And the best kisser?”
“Maybe.”
Ray answered and Aliya pushed the speaker button so Curt could relay what happened. Ray promised they’d be there as quick as they could. She grabbed rope from the laundry room so Curt could bind Ammon and clean hand towels from the kitchen so they could doctor up the guard. Mason had lost blood from the knife wound and admitted his forehead and back hurt, but Curt thought the knife had missed his spinal cord and his lungs.
It was good to be busy. It took her mind off the horror of what she’d gone through a week and a half ago, and half an hour ago. So much death. So much evil.
