Sons of Thunder (38 page)

Zoë hiked him onto her hip. “Where are we going?”

“The caves below the olive grove—follow Ava.”

Zoë took the satchel from Lucien, slipping into the night.

“What’s going on?” His gaze followed Zoë.

“I have the money.”

His dark eyes pinned hers, searched them. “What?”

“Or, I’ll have the money. For the bribe. Just—go back and get help.” She turned, tracking the group into the night—yes, she could still see them, Dino’s big eyes trained on her over Zoë’s shoulder.

“What are you doing, Sofia?”

“I’m going to free Markos.”

“No, I mean how do you think this is all going to end, Sofia?” Lucien grabbed her arm, yanked her back around to face him. “You and Markos are just going to run off together into the night, like you did before, only this time it’s going to end happily?” His expression made her feel stripped to her undergarments. “Don’t tell me you’re still living in that dream.”

She shook out of his grip. “It’s not a dream. He came back for me.”

“He came back for a
treasure
.” He held up his fingers, snapped them close to her head. “Wake up. He didn’t even know you were here.”

“He—would have come back for me.”

“He
says.
But he didn’t, did he? For ten years, or more. You waited for him, and he didn’t show up.”

“He was in prison!”

“Again—so he says! How do you know that?” He gave her a terrible, scorching look that turned her raw. “And even if he is telling the truth—tell me, how’s he going to feel after you tell him about Dino?”

Everything inside her hollowed.

“It’s one thing to accept a son by another man. It’s completely another to accept
your brother’s son.
And—I’ll bet that Dino doesn’t even know he has a kid, does he?”

He moved closer, his voice lethal. “That’s why you haven’t told him, or anyone else, isn’t it, Sofia? Did you seduce him?”

Oh, she wanted to slap him, but her muscles wouldn’t work.

“I thought so. You seduced
both
of them, didn’t you? But Markos still hasn’t shaken free of you, has he? What happened—did Dino see you for what you are?”

She hated him. Hated him clear through—hated him more than the colonel, who hadn’t pretended to love her. “I
loved
both of them. And I hurt both of them—yes, I…” She turned away, Lucien’s words burning. Yes, what would Markos say when he found out about Dino? Her…betrayal?

“But you know what, Sofia?” Lucien stepped away from her, just enough for her to see his smirk. “I don’t care. See, here’s the difference between me and Markos. I still want you. I don’t know why—maybe it’s because I know you must have
some
charms. But the fact is—yes, I’ll go and bribe the German guards. I’ll even risk my neck for your Markos. On one condition.”

She let the hatred spiral through her, consume her.

“You have to marry me. Once Markos is free, you come to me. I’ll hide you, and even Dino and Zoë, if I have to. I’ll hide you from the colonel until the Germans leave. It can’t be long now anyway. And then, you’ll marry
me.”

“Why?” Her voice emerged stripped, raw. “Why would you want to marry me?”

He ran a hand down her arm, clasped her hand. “Because you
are
truly beautiful.”

She stared at his sea dark eyes.

“And, because Markos wants you.”

Then he yanked on her hand, clamping his other around her neck, pulling her hard toward him. His lips banged on hers, crushing hers to her teeth. She tasted the tinny acid of fresh blood, even as his mouth devoured hers. She froze.

He leaned back, considered her. “Do we have an agreement?”

“Why, Lucien?”

He shook his head. “Meet me at the taverna, at dawn.”

“Markos won’t leave here without me—”

“Yes, he will. Once he sees what you really are, and that he returned to Zante for nothing.”

CHAPTER 28

Of all the places for Ava to hide her valuables, Markos’s ratty old sea jacket seemed the most ridiculous. Or, perhaps, ideal. After all, it took Sofia running her hands down all the seams—twice—before she found the lump in the bottom edge hem, near the knee. She closed the door to her closet, and by the wan morning light spilling through the window, used a knife to open the seam.

The topaz ring tumbled out into her hand. Yes, now she remembered it. Ava wore it the day Theo married Zoë—the sun turning it the color of the sea on a cool day.

To a German officer staring at a chilly Russian front, it would be worth a fortune.

Definitely Markos’s life. She closed her hand around it. Held it against her chest.

Perhaps for such a time as this, Sofia, you have carried my most valuable possession across the sea and back.

For such a time as this.

Sofia slipped the ring onto her finger. Saw herself again in the square that hot day, ivy and orange blossoms twined in her hair, her gaze on Markos as he stood tall beside his father and Theo.

His eyes never strayed off her, beckoning, a sweet hope in them that curled warmth inside her. Somehow, last night, that hope stirred to life.
Secured in his arms as the cool of the morning stole in, she’d felt, for the first time in years, yes—warm. Safe, even.

That same warmth had kept her alive on the frothy waters of the Atlantic, right after she released her grandfather to the sea. Sometimes—probably too often—she went back to that kiss on the boat, and the promise Markos made.

“You won’t leave me, right?”

“Never. I promise. Because you are not poison, Sofia Frango.”

Not poison.

Maybe, but then again, she
felt
like poison.

She ran her thumb over the ring. Slipped it off and into her sweater pocket.

God will deliver us, daughter. One day at a time.

Could it be that God had sent her across the ocean, to learn English, a smattering of German, used little Dino to drive her home, and then plunked her down in the middle of a war so that—so that He could deliver them all…

Through—her?

Just because we serve it to swine doesn’t make it slop.
Ava’s quiet voice spilled inside, like a drink. No, not slop.

And not even a survivor. A rescuer.

She swept over to the open window—one last view of the city before she fled the house. The moon had already crested the sky, the stars dying into the morning. A few sturdy lights twinkled in the milky darkness, like fireflies. The wind shivered the olive leaves and she breathed deep, drew in the mix of roses and bougainvillea, and the orange tree loping over the house, the tang of the olive grove, the salty lick of the sea.

She loved this view of the city—so different than the one from the taverna. There, with the sea at her back, the city crouching over her, she suffocated.

It depended on where she stood.

Headlights flashed across the courtyard, and she ducked back. The colonel. She watched as he climbed out, closed the door. His gaze slid up to her window and she ducked back.

She could still sneak out. After he came inside, she’d simply—

“Colonel.”

Everything inside her seized. No—

“What are you doing here? She’ll see you.”

“No, she won’t—she’s helping hide those Jews.”

No…
no
…why hadn’t she seen it?

“So it worked then.”

“We’ll recover them. But the important part is—I got him, just like you asked. Everyone thinks it was an ambush.”

She saw him, in her mind, skulking outside the burning warehouse.

“Is he alive?”

She hazarded a glance.

“For now.”

He stood in the yard, his black cap and sweater eclipsing him in the night. But she knew the trace of his body, knew the way he leaned against the colonel’s car, arms folded, as if he mocked the world.

Knew even the hatred in his voice when he said, “We have an agreement then? I’ll deliver Markos—and you will leave behind the weapons and armament for our partisans.”

Weapons—for Markos’s life. He truly had become a man of violence, so much like his father.

The colonel nodded as Lucien stuck out his hand.

A juvenile shard of satisfaction sliced through her when the colonel ignored it. “When?”

“Dawn. Sofia’s taverna. And, I might have another surprise for you.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“This one you will.”

Sofia put her hand to her mouth, clamped down on a cry.
Of course.
Lucien never intended to marry her. The slick of relief should have made her feel better. Instead, he meant to hand her over to Markos’s enemy—to use her as leverage against Markos? Yes, that made sense.

Apparently, she
did
have value—Markos would spill everything if he knew Sofia’s life hung in the balance.

No.

Lucien slipped into the shadows as the colonel stepped into the house.

Sofia shucked off her sweater, securing the ring in her pocket, then tying it tight and shoving it on the windowsill. Then she stepped to the mirror, grabbed her brush, and tugged out the snarls.

The colonel climbed the stairs, his steps thundering down the hall.

She held her breath as he stopped before her door.

His knock nearly sent her through her skin.

She opened the door before he had a chance to notice little Dino missing. Stuck her head through. “I’ll be right over.”

He nodded, his eyes without expression.

She closed the door, turned her back to it, and let it brace her for a moment. Plan—she needed a plan. But she’d never been a person who figured things out—that was Markos’s job. And Dino—or perhaps Dino had simply tried to keep up with life. She seemed to be the one who flung herself into tomorrow without a thought, hoping life might catch up.

Outside, with the dent of light into the steel gray morning, the birds began to chirp.

She opened the door, smoothed her dress, padded out into the hall, her heart in her throat. She wouldn’t do this. Not after giving her heart back to Markos.

But—

The colonel opened the door. He’d removed his officer’s jacket, draped it on a straight-backed chair at the desk. His satchel sat on the floor beside it.

“I didn’t expect you to be awake,” he said, taking her hand, pulling her into the room. She ignored the pistol at his waist but noted where it landed when he slipped it off his belt, took it out of its holster, and hid it under his pillow.

Smart. Be smart, Sofia.

He pulled her close, but even as he stared down at her, a new look edged into his eyes. Triumph. More than before, when he’d taken her into his arms and reminded her that she had no power, this victory seemed…

Evil.

She backed away, drew her palms down his arms, lifted his hands. The skin had opened around his knuckles, and she stared at it, trying not to be repulsed. “Are you hurt?”

“We caught some partisans tonight.” He lifted a shoulder. “Perhaps my anger overwhelmed me.” He kept his gaze on her as he said it, and she kept her hands loose, her face without expression. “Perhaps I should bandage them—”

“No bandage is necessary.” He traced his finger down her décolletage. Her skin prickled. “You can take the sting away.”

She stiffened. “I…” No. Not anymore. She had tried resisting him in the early days, thinking he wouldn’t want an unwilling partner.

Clearly, he hadn’t minded so much.

She’d stopped fighting him long ago. But Markos wasn’t dead anymore, was he?

Still, she didn’t have to forget the lessons she’d learned…

Turning, she ran her hand down his shirt, catching the buttons. “You’ve had a long night, you must be tired.” She pushed him onto the bed, sitting beside him. “I will fetch some water—”

He grabbed her wrist. “Don’t try and leave me, Sofia.” A strange tinge of what sounded like desperation in his tone shook her. “I—need you.” He pulled her close to him and, oddly, put his arm around her. “Stay with me.”

She ran her hand down his face. “Close your eyes. I will stay.”

His hand shackled her wrist across his chest, even as he closed his eyes.

The gun lay under his pillow.

She lay there, her heart outside her body, watching the dawn slick into the room, over the bed, across the wooden floor.

His chest rose and fell, his breathing even.

She slipped her hand under herself, scooted it toward the pillow.

He opened his eyes, and she found a smile for him. Then he rolled over, toward her.

Her hand closed around the gun.

He pressed one hand above her head, leaned into her.

Now.
She snaked out the pistol—jammed the barrel against his head. Screamed—no, more shrieked in a voice that didn’t sound remotely like her own— “Back away.”

He didn’t move, just showed his teeth in a reptilian smile. “You really think you’re going to shoot me?”

She nodded, or thought she did, but he gave a harsh laugh and slammed his hand against her arm.

The gun flew across the room.

It triggered as it landed, a sound that rocked her through to her bones as she slammed the palm of her hand into his chin. His head jerked back.