Deadly Pursuit (A Blood Hunter Novel, #2) (52 page)

They
saw
no
one
about,
but
Jon
could
hear
low
voices
coming
from
somewhere
up
ahead.
Soon,
the
narrow
corridor
gave
way
to
a
wider
one.
The
light
was
brighter
here,
the
place
luxurious
with
thick
carpets
muffling
their
footfalls
and
religious
art
on
the
walls.

“This
place
gives
me
the
creeps,”
Rico
muttered
from
beside
him.

Jon
agreed.
“How
are
we
going
to
do
this?”

“What
about
good
agent,
bad
agent?”

“Sounds
good,
as
long
as
I
get
to
be
the
bad
agent.”

“Normally,
I’d
insist,
but
he
already
knows
you,
so
it’s
doubtful
he’d
believe
you’re
going
to
be
good
after
he
blew
up
your
ship.”

“No.
Then
again—I’m
not
sure
he’s
going
to
believe
you’re
good
either.
You
seem
a
bit
on
edge.”

“I’ll
be
fine.”

Alex
stopped
in
front
of
large
silver
double
doors
inlayed
with
a
jeweled
cross.
She
raised
her
hand
to
the
panel
when
a
sound
from
behind
made
Jon
whirl
around.
A
door
in
the
wall
opposite
had
opened,
and
a
woman
appeared.

He
heard
Alex’s
indrawn
breath
but
didn’t
take
his
attention
from
the
woman.
She
was
dressed
in
black,
similar
to
the
robes
Alex
had
worn,
with
a
black
headdress
framing
her
pale
features.
Her
skin
was
unlined,
but
she
gave
the
impression
of
great
age
and
serenity.
Though
her
eyes
had
widened
at
the
sight
of
them,
she
soon
gained
control
of
her
reactions.
She
studied
their
small
group,
a
frown
forming
on
her
face.
Her
gaze
passed
over
Alex
at
first
but
returned
to
her,
her
brows
drawing
together.

“Lady
Alexia?”
Her
tone
was
full
of
disbelief
and
joy.
“You’re
alive.
The
High
Priest
reported
you
were
dead.”

“Alex?”
Rico
murmured.
“Is
this
going
to
be
a
problem?”

Alex
stepped
forward.
“No.”
She
took
the
woman’s
hands
in
hers
and
squeezed.
“Sister
Martha,
these
are
my
friends.
They’ve
been
looking
after
me.”

“But
where
have
you
been?
And
what
are
you
wearing?
What
have
you
done
with
your
hair?”
She
shook
her
head.
“We
had
no
word.
The
High
Priest
said
you
were
dead.
We
started
the
hunt
for
a
new
priestess.”

“I’m
not
dead.”

“No.”
There
was
a
wealth
of
joy
in
that
one
word.
She
studied
Alex
then
stretched
out
one
hand
and
touched
her
lightly
on
the
cheekbone
where
the
faint
signs
of
bruising
showed.
“But
it
looks
like
someone
has
hurt
you.”
Her
sharp
eyes
peered
from
Jon
to
Rico
and
back
to
Jon.
He
tried
not
to
squirm.
“Was
it
these
men?
Should
I
call
the
guards?”

So
there
were
people
who
had
cared
about
her.
It
made
him
feel
good
to
know
Alex
hadn’t
been
entirely
without
friends.
Still,
this
Sister
Martha
hardly
seemed
the
cuddly
type.

“No,”
Alex
answered.
“I
told
you,
they’re
my
friends.”

“Alex,
we
need
to
move,”
Rico
said.
He
cast
the
older
woman
a
cold
glance.
“Bring
her
with
us.”

Alex
turned
to
face
him.
“You
won’t
hurt
her.”
It
was
an
order
not
a
question.
Rico
raised
one
eyebrow
but
didn’t
answer.

Alex
patted
the
sister
on
the
arm.
“Sister
Martha,
we
need
to
talk
to
Hezrai.
Would
you
come
with
us?”

“Yes,
my
child.”

Jon
wanted
to
tell
her
that
Alex
wasn’t
a
child—she
was
a
woman,
but
he
kept
his
lips
shut.
Hopefully,
the
old
woman
wasn’t
going
to
be
a
problem.
He
had
an
idea
that
Alex
might
get
a
little
belligerent
if
they
tried
to
finish
the
sister
off.
They’d
better
make
sure
it
didn’t
come
to
that.

Alex
dropped
her
hand
and
returned
to
the
silver
door.
She
took
a
deep
breath
and
pressed
her
palm
to
the
panel.
Inside
the
room,
a
buzzer
sounded
and
a
moment
later,
the
doors
glided
apart.

…

The
meeting
with
Sister
Martha
had
knocked
her
off
balance.
She’d
conveniently
forgotten
how
much
the
old
lady
had
cared
for
her.
When
she’d
been
growing
up,
Sister
Martha
had
been
the
closest
thing
Alex
had
had
to
a
mother.
It
hadn’t
been
Sister
Martha’s
fault
that
she’d
had
no
clue
how
to
go
about
it.
That
every
day
of
her
life,
Alex
had
craved
some
outward
sign
she’d
cared.

She
gave
the
old
lady
a
long
look.
Sister
Martha
seemed
as
serene
as
ever
and
quite
unperturbed
by
the
fact
that
she
was
flanked
by
two
extremely
large,
dangerous
looking
men.
One
of
whom
was
positively
pulsating
with
darkness.