And now, he couldn’t risk the damn thing getting back to Nicodemus Katsaros. Its return would radically alter the balance of power between them.
Tossing back the rest of his scotch, he acknowledged again that he’d been a fool to keep it—he should have destroyed it the first moment it reached him. But he’d drawn such smug pleasure from owning it, from knowing that so much power had been invested in it for nothing . . . as long as it remained in his own grasp. When he retrieved it this time, he vowed to himself, he would destroy it. There was no end to the number of people he would kill to make sure that happened.
Stabbing in his investigator’s number, he listened to it ring . . . and ring. He disconnected in a fury. The fucker was supposed to be available 24/7 to Sotiris’s calls. The only time he hadn’t been in the past was when. . . . Oh. It was possible he’d found them and was either eliminating the problem at this very moment, or was stalking them and unable to talk. It still wasn’t acceptable—the idiot could have texted—but he’d give the man an hour to respond. And in the meantime . . . he typed a quick message, telling the investigator to search the bodies, their car, anything they had with them, and find that fucking hexagon.
Forcing himself to wait—something he rarely had to do—he turned to the next problem of where to stage the test demonstration of his device. Opening his tablet, he began paging through a series of wide-ranging news sites, covering every major event from coast to coast. He didn’t want anything too high-profile, nothing involving Hollywood stars or, God forbid, politicians. But there were concerts and games. Americans were very fond of their sporting events, which were often held in massive outdoor stadiums. Perfect in terms of recording the device’s effect. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find one that—
His eyes widened when he found it—oh, this was almost too perfect. If he’d been a more superstitious man, he wouldn’t have tempted fate in this manner, but he believed first and foremost in himself. He made his own fate, and preferred to think of this serendipitous opportunity as proof that he’d made the right decisions and was proceeding down the smart path.
Because if he tested his device in Florida, it would definitely lure that insufferable bastard Katsaros out into the open. And if Sotiris’s investigator returned the hexagon into his hands before that happened . . .
He smiled. He would destroy Nicodemus Katsaros for good this time. At last.
Chapter Ten
Somewhere on I-95, heading south to Florida
THE FOLLOWING morning found Maeve and Dragan on the road once more, this time a straight shot on the interstate to Florida. They started late and stopped once for gas, and so arrived in Orlando just after sunset, despite the relatively short distance. They could have driven farther, but Maeve had convinced Dragan that they should hold up in Orlando for a day to regroup before the final drive to Pompano Beach and hopefully the home of Nicodemus (aka Nicholas) Katsaros. She’d told herself it was a necessary stop, that she needed time to make sure they were chasing the right person. That she wanted to save Dragan the pain of showing up at a stranger’s house to discover that Nicholas Katsaros was not his Nico.
But in her most private heart, she knew it was more than that. She wanted Dragan all to herself for one more day, one more night. Because once he was reunited with his friends, she’d be forgotten. Well, maybe not forgotten, but thanked for her help and sent on her way . . . alone. The pain she felt at that prospect reminded her that she’d mistaken necessity for attraction. He was with her because she’d been the only person in the house, the only one who could help him escape before Sotiris returned. And yeah, they’d had some good times, but that wasn’t the same as love. Not that she was any expert on love, but she sure as hell knew what she was feeling now. And it hurt like hell.
“They have castles here?” Dragan asked as they drove past a huge billboard advertising, what else?—Disney World.
“No. That’s . . . I guess you’d call it a fake castle. It’s part of an amusement park, which is like a whole city with all kinds of fun rides, like rollercoasters and stuff.”
“Rollercoasters?” he repeated, pronouncing the words as if they made no sense.
“I’ll show you pictures. It’s difficult to describe. But a lot of people love them, mostly because they like being scared to death.”
He studied her silently for a moment, then shrugged. “And this is where you want to remain for two nights? Do you want the rollercoaster to scare you to death?”
She snorted. “Hell, no. Between thuggish vampires and Sotiris, I’m already scared to death. There’s only so much adrenaline a body can take.”
His only response was a wordless grunt, which could have been agreement, or just as easily might mean he had no idea what she was talking about. Either way, it suited Maeve, because as she’d told him, some things had to be seen to be believed.
“I made a reservation online, since this is a popular place.” She glanced at the navigation system, which was guiding her to the hotel. “There’s a good-sized shopping area nearby, so we can buy you some more clothes—something more suitable for greeting your long-lost leader, right?”
“Nico won’t care what I’m wearing. I have my blade and my magic. That will be enough for him.”
“Your magic?” she asked. “Has . . . your goddess filled it up again?”
“Well enough. Though if not, Nico will be able to restore it completely.”
“But your Nico’s a sorcerer, like Sotiris. Is his magic a good thing for you?”
“Not like Sotiris. Though Nico is not one thing or the other, not always good, nor always bad. His goal was to better the lives of his people, which is a worthy thing, but he had to wage war to achieve it, and people die in war. It is the nature of the beast.”
“But he never killed Sotiris?”
“In our last battle, before we were cursed, it was evident that Nico’s power was greater, and that Sotiris would finally be destroyed. There would have been no choice for Nico but to kill him outright. You cannot leave a sorcerer like Sotiris at your back. He knows nothing of honor. Witness the curse he placed on my brothers and me. It was a terrible, cruel fate that he wished for us.”
She nodded silently. The nav system chose that moment to announce their arrival, sparing her the need to comment. She wasn’t a child. She understood that in war people were killed, and that good people sometimes killed, too. But she had trouble reconciling the Dragan who spoke so easily of death with the warm, compassionate man she’d come to know. There was no answer for that conundrum, and certainly nothing she was willing to discuss with Dragan, given their situation. So she focused on the road, until finally they were pulling up in front of a very nice hotel, with several restaurants and a spa. Maybe she and Dragan could get a couples’ massage. She swallowed her laughter at the idea. If she couldn’t explain rollercoasters to him, how the hell could she explain that?