The Darkness in Dreams (Enforcer's Legacy, #1)(79)

“For me. Maybe not for you, not yet. Maybe you’re better at the lying than I was.”

Leander stopped, braced his hands on his hips and stared at the distant purple hills. “Shit’s going to hit the fan soon. Won’t be better for any of us.”

“What do you know, Leander?”

The enforcer pulled a folded paper from inside his dark suit jacket and handed it to Christan. He glanced at it, refolded it and handed it back.

“Does One know?”

“Not yet. You probably have twenty-four hours before she does.”

“I’ll try not to waste them.”

“I have a personal stake in this,” Leander said.

“So do I.”

“Do you need help?”

“I’ll let you know.”

Because One was right; Christan could be violent. And it was going to get messy.




The hills around the villa were steeper than they looked from a distance. After two hours of walking Lexi could feel the effort in her legs. Sweat trickled down her spine. Before Christan left that morning, when Arsen first arrived, the warrior had with him all their possessions from the safe flat in Florence. But earlier, when she’d dressed—well, she hadn’t wanted to but Christan told her she couldn’t walk around naked even if he liked her that way—she found her muddy clothes washed and clean and, oh my god, pressed, even her underwear.

That felt more than a little awkward, realizing the unseen Hanna Strome had washed her clothes. Now Lexi was thinking of a cool shower, something light-weight to wear because a sky as clear and blue as the one above her meant it would get hot.

They paused beside the wooden post that marked the end of a row. Arsen squatted down to check the footings, making sure the base was solid. The vine was trained to the upright post and then horizontally along the wire, so gnarled it spoke of ancient times.

“Why do the vines look like this?” Lexi asked, curious.

“They’re old. And we don’t really grow them for the grapes.”

“Is this some kind of obstacle course?”

“Like the long walls of Piraeus,” Arsen said, speaking of the ancient walls that had become a symbol for the defiant Athens, destroyed by the Spartans, then rebuilt by the Persians. “Don’t touch that,” he added when she reached for the closest vine.

“Will it zap me?”

“To the moon, Slick, and I ain’t explaining that to Christan.”

Lexi removed her hand from where it hovered over green and golden leaves. “Did you notice the black car?” she asked as they turned toward the villa.

“The one at the end of the road?”

“Yes,” she said, bending into the climb. “It’s been there the entire time we’ve been checking out this part of Piraeus.”

“Too hot for sightseeing,” Arsen pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Lexi followed him up the hill. “Oh, look. They’re leaving. Maybe they were just sightseeing.”

“Did they have a camera?”

“Too far to tell.”

“Then I can’t buy the whole sightseeing thing. Gotta have a big camera, Slick. Large enough to see.”

“And that’s why you get to be the warrior, Bucko, while I have to be the human. I don’t think like that.”

“Sucks for you.”

“Don’t tell Christan.”

“What?”

“That we were alone in a vineyard talking about sucking.”

A bark of laughter. “Damn, Slick, but Christan has his hands full with you.”

“Yeah, I know.” She grinned up at him. “You were starting to feel sorry for me.”

“Never that.” His big hand pushed the hair from her face and squeezed her shoulder. “Never that.”





CHAPTER 33





Italy was nothing if not steeped in history, and the interior of the sixteenth century villa was no exception. The two-story building had been modernized with each century, the architectural details faithfully restored. A massive fresco of a pastoral scene dominated the wall of the main salon. The bathrooms were a combination of antiquity and convenience. Working fireplaces were in many of the rooms but were rarely used for more than ambiance. There was an extensive library, and the chapel—reached by a short walk—as the villa had originally been built for a disgraced Bishop from Florence who’d been too flagrant in his opinions. There might also have been the odd parishioner now and then who kept low a profile.

Lexi stood in the doorway of the library and watched as Christan scanned through images on his laptop. He’d been working since he got back from his meeting. She knew he was troubled, but he wouldn’t confide. She’d left him to his solitude, but now she could sense his withdrawal. She thought it was a place where he existed as an Enforcer with responsibilities to perform. His phone chimed and he lifted it to his ear, listening in silence. The he murmured something in response. A moment later he was gone, slipping through a side door and disappearing outside.

Lexi went looking for him an hour later. She was wearing a sundress the color of lemons, and her favorite silver sandals, the ones Christan had removed on the little balcony. She’d showered, and her hair was slightly damp. The afternoon was sweet and warm and the scent of flowers hung thick in the air. The taste of sweet oranges slid elusively against her tongue.