And now this.
She gripped her compass tighter and willed her hand steady. She and Vigor would solve this. They must. Or all the sacrifice by the others would be for nothing.
Determined, she climbed from one level to the next of the papal apartments. With no sign of any caretaker, Kat risked switching on a small penlight to help illuminate their search.
“The pope’s living room,” Vigor said at the entrance to one room.
Kat crisscrossed the length of it, studying her compass. The walls here were decorated with swirls of peeling paint, and a large corner fireplace dominated the room. Thunder echoed through the thick walls.
Once finished with her pass, she shook her head.
Nothing.
They moved on. One of the most spectacular rooms came next: the Room of the Stag. Its frescoes depicted elaborate hunting scenes, from falconry, to bird nesters, to frolicking dogs, to even a rectangular fish-breeding pond.
“A piscarium,” Vigor said. “Fish again.”
Kat nodded, remembering the significance of fish to their own hunt. She searched this room with an even tighter pattern of surveillance. Her compass refused to budge. With no clue, she waved Vigor onward.
They climbed another level.
“The pope’s bedroom,” Vigor said, sounding disappointed and worried now, too. “This is the last of the rooms in the apartments.”
Kat entered the chamber. No furniture. Its walls were painted a brilliant blue.
“Lapis lazuli,” Vigor said. “Prized for its luster.”
The rich decoration depicted a nighttime forest, hung with birdcages of every shape and size. A few squirrels scrambled among the limbs.
Kat searched the room, from one end to the other.
Still nothing.
She lowered her compass. She turned to find the same understanding in Vigor’s eyes. They had failed.
3:36 A.M.
LAUSANNE, SWITZERLAND
GRAY WAS shoved into a stone cell. It was sealed with Lexan glass, bulletproof and an inch thick. The door slammed shut. He had spotted Rachel in a cell two spaces down…along with her grandmother.
It made no sense.
Raoul growled at his men and headed away, gold key in hand.
Seichan stood at the door, smiling at him. With his hands still bound behind his back by plastic ties, he threw himself bodily at her, crashing into the glass wall.
“You goddamn bitch!”
She only smiled, kissed her fingertips, and pressed them to the glass. “Bye, loverboy. Thanks for the ride here.”
Gray fell away from the door, turning his back, cursing under his breath, calculating. Raoul had confiscated his pack, given it to one of his underlings. He’d been patted down, his weapons taken from his shoulder and ankle holsters.
He overheard talk by Rachel’s cell. A door was opened.
Raoul growled to one of his guards, “Take Madame Camilla up to the trucks. Have all the men ready. We’ll be leaving for the airport in a few minutes.”
“Ciao, Rachel, my bambina.”
No response to her grandmother. What was going on?
Footsteps marched away.
Gray still sensed a presence by the other door.
Raoul’s voice spoke again. “If only I had more time,” Raoul whispered icily. “But orders are orders. It all comes to an end in Avignon. The Imperator will be returning here with me. He wants to watch as I take you for the first time. After that, it’s just the two of us…for the rest of your life.”
“Fuck you,” Rachel spat back at him.
“Exactly right.” Raoul laughed. “I’m going to teach you how to scream and properly pleasure your superior. And if you don’t bend to everything I demand, you won’t be the first bitch Alberto lobotomized for the Court. I don’t need your mind to f**k you.”
He stalked away with a final order to a guard. “Keep a watch down here. I’ll radio when I’m ready for the American. We’ll have a short bit of fun before we leave.”
Gray listened as Raoul’s footsteps faded.
He didn’t wait any longer. He kicked the toe of his boot hard against the solid rock wall. A three-inch blade sprang from the heel. He crouched and sliced free the ties that bound his wrist. He moved quickly. Timing was everything.
He reached into the front of his pants. Seichan had shoved a thin canister past his belt buckle when he’d thrust himself against the glass wall. Her left hand had passed through an air vent, while her other hand distracted with her feigned kiss of good-bye.
Gray pulled the canister free, stepped to the door, and sprayed the hinges. The steel bolts began to dissolve. He had to give it to the Guild. They had cool toys. While Gray could not contact his superiors, nothing had stopped Seichan from coordinating equipment from hers.
Gray waited a full minute, then yelled to the guard stationed a few steps down the hall. “Hey! You! Something’s wrong over here.”
Footsteps approached.
Gray retreated back from the door.
The guard came forward.
Gray pointed to the smoky sizzle billowing by the door. “What the hell?” he yelled. “Are you ass**les trying to gas me?”
With a crinkled brow, the guard stepped closer to the door.
Good enough.
Gray leapt forward, slammed into the door, popping the hinges. The plate of hard glass slammed into the guard. He crashed against the far wall, striking his head hard. As he slumped, he tried to free his pistol.
Gray shoved aside the door and pivoted off it to swing around. He planted his boot-heel blade into the man’s throat, then ripped it free, taking out most of the man’s neck.
Bending, he liberated the pistol from the guard’s holster and a set of keys. He ran to Rachel’s cell.
She was already up and at the door. “Gray…!”
He keyed the lock. “We don’t have much time.”
He yanked the door open—and she was in his arms. She wrapped tight to him, lips at his ears, breath on his neck.
“Thank God,” she whispered.
“Actually, thank Seichan,” he said. Despite the urgency to keep moving, he held the embrace a bit longer, sensing she needed it.
And maybe he did, too.
But finally they both separated. Gray pointed his pistol toward the end of the hall. He checked his watch. Two minutes.
3:42 A.M.
SEICHAN STOOD at the foot of the stairs that led up to the main keep. She knew the only escape was out the front door. Steel blast doors sealed the back exit under the castle.
In the brilliantly lit courtyard, a caravan of five SUVs was being loaded. Men yelled orders. Crates were shoved into the backs of the trucks. Dogs barked in kennels.