“There’s a coffee cart up ahead with rolls. Let’s head to that one. I really need an espresso,” she said, trying to sound eager and focused only on food.
He nodded and took her hand, leading the way.
It couldn’t have gone better. With him in the lead, they were single file. She could see the diary in his back pocket, they were jam-packed in with people crushing against them, and now was her chance. Her pulse raced, her heart pounding as she plotted her move.
She lifted the diary, at the same time jerking her hand from his, pivoted, and took a sharp left into the crowd, pushing her way past vendors and buyers who yelled and gestured to her in angry Italian.
She wanted to apologize for her rudeness, but she couldn’t. Her life, her freedom was at stake. And she knew Dalton was right on her heels. She didn’t have the foggiest idea where she was headed; she only knew she was literally running for her life.
Trying to stay within the relative safety of the dense crowd, she weaved in and out, turning east and ducking down, hoping Dalton couldn’t see her. She jerked off her sweater so maybe he wouldn’t be able to spot her by her clothing, then continued to stay low, slipping between two fruit carts generously populated with customers.
The vendors gestured at her wildly and cursed in Italian for her to get out of there, no doubt thinking she was in there to steal from them. Isabelle ignored them, practically on her hands and knees now as she moved through the back of their cart area and out the other side. She hoped they wouldn’t shout for the local authorities that a thief was amongst them. That would only alert Dalton to her whereabouts.
She heard nothing and the vendors stopped yelling. Maybe they realized she wasn’t stealing anything. Taking a moment to pause and turn, checking her surroundings, she didn’t spot Dalton anywhere. Still, she wasn’t about to stop. She pushed on, keeping her brisk pace, but this time only at a walk so she wouldn’t draw suspicion to herself. Still, she stayed within the morning crowds until she found a dark side street. She ducked up the street and was greeted with mercifully cool shade.
Having been to Catania before, it only took her a moment to gather her bearings. This was a business section. All she had to do was take a taxi to the train station nearby and get the hell out of here-disappear so Dalton could never find her.
She kept to the shadows, sticking close to the buildings, especially near the alleys in case she had to duck down one if she spotted Dalton.
“Isabelle.”
She froze, turning quickly at the sound of her name.
It wasn’t Dalton. A tall, well-dressed man stepped out of an alley.
She didn’t recognize him, but he seemed friendly enough, smiling as he motioned to her. Pinned to the wall of a building, she wasn’t about to budge. For all she knew he could be working for Dalton.
“Who are you?” She clutched her bag closer, prepared to tear off in the opposite direction.
“I’ve been sent by your sister. Angelique has been looking for you. Hurry, we need to get out of here.”
Relief flooded her. She’d never been happier to hear her sister’s name. “Angie sent you?”
“Yes. I saw you get off the yacht. I’ve been searching everywhere for you. Your sister is frantic.” He looked down one end of the street, then the other, then back at her, motioning with his hand. “Let’s go. Hurry. Before he catches up.”
He knew her sister’s name, and that Dalton was chasing her. Should she trust him? What if it was a setup?
She paused, uncertain and yet desperate. Dalton would find her any minute.
“Please, Isabelle. Your sister is waiting.”
“Where?”
“Izzy, come on!”
Angelique! She heard her sister’s voice around the corner. It was Angie’s voice, wasn’t it?
Isabelle didn’t feel that connection, that warmth she usually felt when she was near her sister. Yet she so wanted it to be her. “Angelique is here?”
He nodded. “Yes. Now hurry.”
Where else did she have to go? She was desperate. And for once in her life, she really needed Angelique.
She pushed off the wall and moved toward him. He slid around the corner and disappeared into the alley.
Isabelle started to follow, but as soon as she got to the corner of the building someone grabbed her arm. She gasped and looked up to find Dalton’s face glaring down at her.
No! “Let me go! My sister is here.”
Dalton shook his head. “No, she’s not.”
“I heard her.”
“You heard what they wanted you to hear, Isabelle. It’s a trick.”
She didn’t believe him. More lies. She shook her head, tried to jerk her wrist out of his grasp, but he held tight.
“Put these on. Now.”
He handed her a pair of sunglasses. What the hell?
She tried to pull away, but his iron grip on her arm meant she wasn’t going anywhere. She wanted to drop to the ground and cry. She’d been so close to escape.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he whispered, “but you’re wrong. That thing you think was about to rescue you is a demon, and it wasn’t your sister’s voice. Now put these on. They’re eye protection.”
A demon? “He’s human. What are you talking about?”
“It’s not human, Isabelle. Let me prove it to you.”
If he’d take her around the corner, she could maybe break free again and get to her sister. It was at least a chance. Sighing in defeat, she slid on the sunglasses. They wrapped tightly around her eyes, darkening everything around her. “I can barely see.”
“Good. Now follow me.”
Like she had a choice? If she tried to run now he’d just grab her again. He pulled her in front of him and she had nowhere to go.
Shielded by Isabelle and the building, Dalton drew his bag off his shoulder and pulled something out, assembling two long metal pieces together with swift, precise movements.
Oh, dear God, it was a gun. Not a regular gun, either, but something she’d never seen before, dark and scarylooking. He zippered up his bag, threw it over his shoulder, and grabbed her hand, keeping the weapon alongside his body so no one would see it.
“Stay close to me.” He dragged her around the corner and into the dark alley.
It was even blacker in here than on the shadowed street, not helped by the sunglasses she wore. Why did he make her wear these?
The man was probably long gone by now, figuring she must have changed her mind about going with him.
No, wait. There he was, at the end of the alley. And Angelique was nowhere in sight. There was no exit down this alley, either. Was Dalton right? Had the man lied?
“Get behind me,” Dalton instructed.
She did, then realized there were two men in the alley. The one who’d approached her earlier had sunglasses on, but the other didn’t. His eyes were such a pale blue they glowed. Okay, that was weird.
“Demon hunter,” the one said, his voice a low growl.