Guardians of Stone (The Relic Seekers) (30 page)

Fergus collected their belongings, and after they had changed and gathered supplies, he led them to a set of stairs. “Go this way so we don’t have to explain to the other guards. I’ll have a vehicle waiting out front.”

“I want mine,” Jake said.

Fergus looked surprised but agreed. He hurried off and pulled one of the guards aside as Jake and Kendall hurried up the stairs. They exited the lower level and both of them came to a stop, completely amazed.

“It’s the first hotel where we stayed,” Kendall said, looking around at the elaborate furnishings. “No wonder they didn’t have a problem giving us Thomas’s name. Nathan owns the place. That’s disturbing.”

“I’m more disturbed by the secret compound underneath. Come on.” They hurried past the guests milling about the lobby and exited the hotel. “Can you ride?”

“Ride what?”

“That.” He nodded toward the motorcycle pulling up out front.

“Crap. We’re riding the motorcycle you rented?”

“This will be easier than a car. If we can’t find the railroad Nathan mentioned, we can ride this partway up the trail. A dirt bike would be better, but we don’t have time to find one.”

They took the motorcycle from a sullen guard. “Why not let them help?” she asked.

“I don’t trust guards who just kidnapped us. If it wasn’t for keeping the spear out of the wrong hands, I’d let Nathan take his chances.”

“I think the spear is at the castle.”

“Is that one of your
feelings
?”

She nodded.

He looked at his phone. “You have your feelings, I have voice mail.” He listened to the message then hung up. “It was Roberto. The mysterious guest checked out the same time we did.”

“Did he mention Brandi?”

“She hasn’t been back.”

Kendall climbed on the bike behind Jake and held on tight as they wound down the narrow streets. The ride to the castle was terrifying. They weaved in and out of traffic, getting so close to cars she could have touched them. The knot she’d gotten in her stomach in Rome was still there when they pulled off the road where their car had exploded.

The car wasn’t there now, just singed grass and dirt reminding her that someone wanted them to die. Jake parked close to the area where Nathan had described finding the hidden entrance.

“Watch your leg,” Jake warned as she got off the motorcycle. “The exhaust is hot.” He helped her off, switched on a flashlight and inspected the area.

She got off the bike and removed the helmet Jake had insisted she buy, shaking out her hair. “Could you have gone any faster? I feel like I’ve had a face-lift.” She was glad the trip hadn’t taken long. It gave her less time to worry about Nathan and Jake, but after the motorcycle hit a hundred miles per hour, she started to wonder if they’d reach the castle alive. “If Nathan is here, where’s his car?”

“Probably hid it in the trees.” Jake already had on his pack and had started searching. “Here. I’ve found something.”

Kendall gathered her backpack and walked over to where he stood in front of a large rock. His light showed the same circle motif. He pushed it and the rock started opening.

“Stand back,” he said.

The steps led down into a tunnel with railroad tracks, just as Nathan had said. “I thought he said there were two railcars. I don’t see any.”

Jake looked around. “That means someone else is here. That’s not good. We need to get the bike down here.”

“Will it fit down the steps?”

“It’ll have to. We don’t have time to hike in.”

“It’s going to be loud.”

“There’s no other choice.” With a lot of grumbling and creative curses, he managed to get the bike down the steps. The roar of the engine was deafening inside the tunnel, which was part cave and part man-made. It took just minutes to reach the end. Two railcars waited. Jake shut off the bike and they climbed off.

“I wonder how many people are here,” Kendall whispered.

Jake pulled a gun from his boot. Why didn’t she have a gun? She was in danger too. As if her sixth sense could stop a bullet. Of course, she didn’t like guns any more than Nathan did, and he knew that.

Following Nathan’s directions, they found their way to the first floor of the castle. “I think I hear singing now.”

Jake stopped and listened. “That’s not singing. That’s a scream.” A flash of light shot through the windows of the castle.

“The statues.” Oh God. Nathan.

Jake took off at a run. The screaming grew louder as they hurried past the columns where Raphael had died. Nathan was right. The body wasn’t there. Outside, she could see a man suspended in the air between the statues, trapped in the light, his arms and legs stiff, body shaking with the force. The light was blinding, making it impossible to identify the figure.

“Nathan?” Kendall screamed, running toward him.

J
AKE GRABBED HER
and put his arms around her, trapping her against his chest. “Stay back.”

Kendall turned her head from the blinding light, clutching Jake’s shirt. “Is it him?”

“If it is, there’s nothing we can do now.”

She looked back again, her heart pounding, the smell of ozone flooding her nostrils. The light disappeared and the body dropped to the ground. Jake let go of her and ran toward the man, who was facedown on the ground.

“Don’t get too close,” she warned, running to catch up.
Please don’t let it be Nathan
, she prayed.

“It’s not him,” Jake said, examining the man from several feet away. “I’ve never seen this guy before.” His eyes were blacked out like the thieves’ who’d stolen the box.

“Do you think he was with Nathan?” Kendall asked as she approached Jake.

A click sounded behind them. Jake tensed and reached for his gun. “Don’t move,” a voice said.

Jake took his hand off his gun and cursed. “No, I think he was with them.”

“Raise your hands and turn around...slowly.”

She and Jake turned, hands raised. Four men, all dressed in the same dark clothing as the dead man, stood behind them,
guns drawn, their terrified gazes darting from Jake and Kendall to the statues.

“Can you take them?” Kendall whispered.

“Not with you here,” Jake whispered back.

“What are those things?” A red-haired man asked, staring nervously at the statues, keeping his gun leveled at Kendall.

“Hell if I know,” a second man said. He was tall and gaunt. “Throw down your gun. Nice and slow. I’m feeling a little jumpy right now. Then get rid of your backpacks.”

Jake grunted, slipped his gun from its holster at his side and dropped the gun on the ground, following it with his pack.

“How about you?” the third man asked Kendall as she dropped her backpack. He had spiky brown hair and mean eyes. “Got any weapons on you?”

“Her weapon is her mind.” The fourth man had a round nervous face. “Don’t look her in the eyes. I’ve heard she can do all kinds of crazy things.”

“Seems your reputation precedes you,” Jake said.

“If you have a fancy move,” she whispered, “I’d do it now.”

“Move away from the statues,” the gaunt man said.

“Gladly,” Jake said. “Wouldn’t want to roast like your buddy. Did you see what those statues did to his eyes?”

Unwittingly, four pairs of eyes glanced at the dead man. Jake leapt at the red-haired man, knocking the gun out of his hand and shoving him into two of his henchmen. Three of them toppled like dominoes. “Run,” he yelled to Kendall.

She hesitated, remembering her vision of him dead.

“Go!” he yelled. “What are you waiting for?”

You.

She took off, racing in the opposite direction. She heard one of the men yelling at another to go after her. There was a protest, and then the round-faced man who hadn’t fallen started chasing her. She glanced back and saw him closing in. In the background, Jake was fighting the other three, holding his own.

“Stop!” The man threw himself at her and she hit the ground like a sack of flour. Rolling over, she found a gun pressed between her eyes. Any harder and he wouldn’t need a bullet—the barrel would penetrate her brain. “Get up.” He moved back but kept the gun aimed at her head. “Start walking.”

“Where are we going?”

“That way.”

He guided her away from the castle. The line of statues stretching toward the sky seemed to watch their progress as Kendall and her captor moved toward the seven pillars.

“Who are you?”

“Don’t talk. Just walk toward the stones. And don’t look at me.”

Not the catacombs. Again.

When they arrived at the pillars, he circled around the one with the motif and pushed. The stone started moving, but this time she knew to stand back. “Down there,” he ordered.

“Who are you working for? Can I at least know that?”

“I thought you knew everything.”

“Not nearly enough.” Maybe she could read him if she could touch something that belonged to him other than the tip of his gun. She was getting nothing from that, and he was taking pains to stay clear of her. When they reached the bottom of the steps, he stepped farther back, still keeping his gun aimed at her. “Now find the key.”

“What?”

“The key, find it.”

“What key?”

“The key to the box,” he said, sounding exasperated.

“There’s a key?”

“You think something that valuable is just kept in an unlocked box?”

“What’s in the box?” She was hoping to distract him so she could find a way out.

“I don’t know, but it must be valuable. A lot of people want it.”

“I barely saw the box before your friend stole it.”

He frowned. “I don’t think you know as much as they say. I was just hired yesterday.”

“By who? The Reaper?”

“I don’t know anything about a reaper.” He gave her an impatient look and nudged her with his gun. “Shut up and find the key so I can get the hell out of this place.”

“Did they tell you where to look?”

The man gave a long-suffering sigh. “It’s gotta be in the same place where the box was hidden.”

“With the old monk?”

“If that’s where it was. Take me there.”

“He’s not going to be happy.”

“Who?”

“The monk.”

“Stop that,” the man said, his voice shrill. “I know you’re playing with my mind.”

“Who told you about me?”

“Just walk. Find the key.”

So the box was locked and the bad guys didn’t have the key. That was good. Nothing else was. When they reached the door, she tried again to delay.

“We can’t get inside the catacombs without the cross.”

The man reached under her shirt and yanked out the cross. “I’m not stupid. Open it. Now.”

She inserted the cross inside the lock and turned it. The light flashed and the door began to move.

That seemed to make him even jumpier. “Hurry,” he said, pushing her inside. “I don’t like this place.”

“I don’t blame you. It’s booby-trapped.”

“Booby-trapped? He didn’t say nothing about no booby traps.”

“There are giant rocks in the ceiling. One wrong step and splat!”

“Hellfire,” her captor muttered, looking overhead.

“Did he mention the ghosts?”

“Ghosts?” His flashlight jerked around the catacombs, the light landing on a skull. He yelped. “Hurry up, dammit.”

If there was a key hidden on the monk, Kendall didn’t want this guy to find it. She had to keep stalling. Maybe Jake would come after her. If he was alive.

“I don’t remember where the coffin is. I should get help.”

“From who?”

“The spirits. They might not tell me, though. They’re angry because we’re here. Watch out for that stone there. I think it might be a trap.”

He jumped sideways. If she had been a little quicker, she might have knocked the gun out of his hand, but she waited too long. If she could get away from him, she could sneak through the narrow tunnel where she and Jake had escaped. It was unlikely that this guy knew about it.

They moved on and at each coffin she stopped and ran her hands above it, giving an imitation of a dramatic psychic that would have made Jake proud. She moaned and called on the spirits, asking for guidance to the right coffin, hoping she was speaking loudly enough for Jake to hear and praying that if there were any more booby traps, they missed her and hit her captor, who was sweating and glancing over his shoulder every few seconds.

“Be quiet,” he said, interrupting her latest act. “I heard something.” After a minute, he pointed to another coffin. “Try that one.”

Kendall approached the wooden box and held her hands above it. “Oh spirits of the catacomb, tell me where the angry monk lies. And grant us protection from the booby traps which lie in wait to kill us.” She began slowly rocking back and forth. A low moan rose in her throat, rising in volume to a piercing wail.

“Stop that.”

She gasped and her eyes flew open in an expression of horror. “I hear you, angry one. Please don’t kill us as you killed the man at the statues, blacking out our eyes and cursing our souls with the horror worse than death.”

From the corner or her eye she saw him swipe his forehead.

“Open it,” he said.

She looked at the rotting piece of wood she’d been talking to. “Why?” Did he believe this was where she had found the box?