Ella thought about Mak. About his hand, covering hers at dinner. About the hungry hardness of his body, his easy humor, h
is flirtatious smile. And her own flirtatious smiles back. She’d told herself she was merely playing a role, doing what she’d been trained to do, doing her part to avenge her parents’ deaths. But deep down, she knew a part of her had wanted Makis Alexiadis. Liked him, even.
Mak can’t have killed Nikkos. It can’t be him. It mustn’t be him.
‘Whoever was following “Persephone” was probably doing so at Alexiadis’s request. If that person saw you and Nikkos together …’
‘No. They wouldn’t have,’ Ella insisted. ‘We were careful …’
Gabriel could hear the pain in her voice. But she had to face reality.
‘You must listen to me, Ella. Nikkos’s death means that your identity may well have been compromised. The whole Petridis mission may have to be aborted, or at least put on hold until we know more. But you cannot return to Makis. Not now. Not ever.’
Ella was silent.
‘You know that the last thing Nikkos would have wanted would be to put you in unnecessary danger,’ said Gabriel. ‘He was very fond of you.’
And I of him. Although it struck Ella that the last thing Nikkos actually would have wanted was to escape the clutches of the murderous sadists torturing him to death. The thugs who had taken it on themselves to execute an innocent and brave man. To snuff out his big, happy, irrepressible spirit.
Whoever was responsible would rot in hell. Just as soon as Ella Praeger found them and sent them there.
‘You must return to Athens tomorrow,’ Gabriel informed her. ‘A new passport and papers will be waiting for you, along with all your reservations. You’re on a flight to JFK first thing Sunday morning. Someone will contact you on Monday in New York about next steps. OK?’
Ella assented to everything. Yes. Yes. Yes. It was pointless to argue with Gabriel once he was in order-giving mode, and the news about poor Nikkos had knocked the last vestiges of fight right out of her.
‘I’m sorry about Nikkos, Ella. And we will follow up on the intel you provided today. Trust us.’
Walking along the lane, Ella replayed Gabriel’s words in her head, trying to make them sound less empty.
‘Sorry.’
What use was ‘sorry’ to anyone? Poor Nikkos didn’t need The Group’s pity. He needed justice. Vengeance. Just like all the other anguished souls whose lives had been ended, or ruined, terrorized by Athena Petridis and her wicked acolytes.
Like my mother.
Like me.
She had recognized Athena Petridis today. Gazed directly into the eyes of the monster. But that wasn’t even the most frightening part.
The most frightening part was the one thing Ella hadn’t told Gabriel: The monster had recognized her, too. Or at least something about her. Just as Ella had felt a strange familiarity with the huge man at Athena’s feet, so she was sure that the look in Athena’s eyes when she studied Ella’s face was one of recognition.
We’re connected, Athena and I.
There’s something between us.
Until Ella found out what that something was, she knew she could never let go. Not for Gabriel. Not for anyone.
Mark Redmayne was on the NordicTrack in his home gymnasium when Gabriel’s text came through.
‘E returning to Athens, as requested.’
Turning off the machine, Mark Redmayne wiped the sweat from his brow and hands and tapped out a reply:
‘E believes Mission P suspended?’
There was a few seconds pause, then: ‘Yes.’
Good, thought Mark, hanging up.