Blue Bloods: Keys to the Repository (20 page)

instant, he had pul ed the shank from his friend’s chest to use as a weapon of his own and turned toward Schuyler, the laughter having died from his

eyes.

“Jack!” she cried, as the Venator charged. She couldn’t move; Iggy had hit her with a stasis spel when he’d recovered the blade, which he was

now holding above her chest. In a moment it would pierce her heart—but Jack dove between them and took the ful brunt of the blow.

There was no time to scream. She had to get out of the spel , everything was going wrong too quickly. There was no time to even think of Jack or

whether he had survived. She wrenched herself forward with every ounce of energy she had, fighting the invisible web that held her. The sensation

was like moving in slow motion through a thick ooze, but she found the spel ’s weak link and broke through. She screamed as she ran toward Jack’s

seemingly lifeless body.

Iggy was there first, but as he turned Jack over, he did a double take. Jack was unharmed, alive and smiling grimly.

Jack leaped to his feet. “Tsk, tsk, Venator. How could you forget an angel cannot be harmed with a blade of his own making?” He rol ed up his

sleeves as he faced his adversary. “Why don’t you make it easy on yourself ?” he said mildly. “I suggest you go back and tel the Countess that we are

not a pair of trinkets she can keep in a jewelry box. Go now, and we wil leave you unharmed.”

For a moment it appeared as if the Venator was about to consider the offer, but Schuyler knew he was too old a soul to take such a cowardly

route. The Italian removed a nasty-looking curved blade from his pocket and pounced toward Jack, but suddenly stopped in midair. He hung there for

second with a funny look on his face, part confusion and part defeat.

“Nice move with the stasis,” Jack said, turning to Schuyler.

“Any time,” she smiled. She had taken the edges of the spel that had recently paralyzed her and hit the Venator with it.

Jack took it from there, and with a powerful gesture, he threw the fat guard far off the side of the cliff, sending him crashing to the rocks below.

“You got the tank?” he asked, as they scrambled down the cliffside to the pirate boat waiting for them below.

“Of course.” She nodded. They had planned their escape wel : Jack had driven the yacht’s anchor impossibly deep into the rocky ocean bottom,

while Schuyler had emptied the yacht’s fuel supply while she was belowdecks. The night before, they had sabotaged the boat’s sails and the radio.

They ran across the beach toward the pirate boat, where their new friend Ghedi was waiting for them. Schuyler had met him during one of their

trips to the St.Tropez market, where the former member of the self-styled “Somali Marines” was helping unload a pal et of fresh fish upon the dock.

Ghedi missed his days of adventure and jumped at the chance to help the two trapped Americans.

“Al yours, bossing,” Ghedi smiled, showing a row of gleaming white teeth. He leaped off the starboard side. He would catch a ride back to the

market on the ferry.

“Thanks, man,” Jack said, taking the wheel. “Check your accounts tomorrow.”

The Somali grinned more widely, and Schuyler knew the fun of stealing the boat was almost payment enough.

The massive engine roared to life as they sped away from the shore. Schuyler glanced to where the two Venators were floating, lifeless, in the

water. She comforted herself with the knowledge that both would survive; they were ancient creatures, and no cliffside fal could truly harm them. Only

their egos would be bruised. Stil , they wouldn’t be able to recover for a while, and by then she and Jack would be wel on their way.

She exhaled. Final y. On to Florence, to begin the search for the keepers and secure the Gate before the Silver Bloods found it. They were back

on track.

“Al right?” Jack asked, guiding the ship with expert ease through the stormy waves. He reached for her hand and squeezed it tightly.

She held it against her cheek, loving the feel of his rough cal uses against her skin. They had done it. They were together. Safe. Free. Then she

froze. “Jack, behind us.”

“I know. I hear the engines,” he said, without even bothering to look over his shoulder.

Schuyler stared at the horizon, where three dark shapes had appeared. Their forms grew larger and larger as the crafts drew closer. Apparently

Iggy and Drago hadn’t been their only jailers.

Escape was going to be harder than they thought.

Many thanks and love to the people who helped bring this book to the world, especial y my husband and col aborator, Mike Johnston; my editors,

Jennifer Besser and Christian Trimmer, and the rest of the superfabulous team at Hyper-ion; my agent, Richard Abate; Kathryn Wil iams, for her

helpful research. Thank you to the DLC, Green, Johnston, Torre, Ong, and Gaisano families. Thank you to my readers. Love to al !