Trouble and Treasure (#1, Trouble and Treasure Series) (22 page)

I stood there, getting colder by the
moment. It wasn't that my still-wet hair was dripping down my back;
it was that the man I’d thought I could trust barely moments before
was turning out to have played me. It sounded as if he’d been in
contact with the army the whole time. So why lie? Why make me
believe they couldn't be trusted? I’d run from them last night out
of sheer surprise and fright, but he could have told me the truth
this morning. Why string me along? It was so unbelievably
cruel.

“
How did you get here?” I found myself
asking, voice low but not shaking.

Mark looked over at me, surprise lifting
up his cheeks. He had wide, bright, expressive eyes and they locked
onto me. He looked pleased I’d spoken, probably more pleased that I
hadn't turned tail and started to run. “Chopper.” He pointed one
finger upwards.

I flicked my eyes to the ceiling and
flicked them back again. “There's a storm outside,” I replied
quietly.

He shrugged. “Good chopper, good pilot,”
he dipped his head, “But if you don't want to go that way,” he
pointed downstairs, “We can always go out the door.”

I blinked hard, remembering how exquisitely
awful it had been getting in here in the first place. I didn't want
to walk on that path in a storm again.

“
Up to you,” he said, and he seemed to mean
it.

This, him, this Mark guy, he was the
soldier you saw in action films and books. Dedicated, genuine,
loyal, and a tad bit dashing. He was the guy you wanted to trust
when you were in danger. If he’d been there last night, if he’d
been the one to save me from my drawing room full of mercenaries, I
had the distinct feeling that everything would have turned out
differently.

Maratova, on the other hand, lived up to
his monstrous reputation. I was scared to even look at the
guy.

“
Do you know how many contacts are out
there?” Mark asked Sebastian.

“
No idea,” Sebastian replied, voice quiet,
shoulders hunched, his body still leaning away from me.

“
We didn't spot any on the way in, not that
we could see much in the storm,” Mark said, one hand remaining on
his gun, though not in a particularly threatening
manner.

I was starting to feel foolish,
exquisitely foolish. Why had I run from them today? Why had I put
myself through all of that when, far from being the monsters I’d
believed, they was the saviors I required?

The more I thought about it, an awful,
sick, stodgy feeling took to my stomach. God, how much trouble was
I in here? Surely they were going to question why I ran from them?
Why I didn't turn myself into the authorities when I’d had the
chance?

While I could easily say it was all
Sebastian’s fault, it was clear Sebastian was working with
them.

As I stood there, wallowing in my
self-hate, I heard the wind pick up from outside. What had
previously been a gale fired up into a full-blown storm. There was
even a sudden and powerful clap of thunder above us, and a
correspondingly bright flash of light that filtered in through the
small window above the sink.

My shoulders jumped instinctively, but
fortunately I didn’t yelp in surprise.

“
Wow,” Mark said, drawn out and slow, as
the rumble of thunder passed, “Storm is picking up.”

E
ven through the thick insulation of the concrete and stone,
I could make out the churn of the surf, the beating of the waves as
they roared up the rocks and smashed against the side of the
lighthouse, not to mention the appalling scream of the gale
outside.

“
What a day to be stuck in a lighthouse,”
Mark added, “You sure picked it, Sebastian.”

“
We have to stay here?” I asked
automatically, words pushing their way out of my mouth before I
could think about it myself.

Mark glanced towards the small window in
the kitchen and nodded. “Sure seems that way.” He turned and faced
me in full. “We will be out of here once the storm dies down a bit,
it won't be long.”

T
here was another horrendous clap of thunder from above, and
a startlingly bright flash of light from outside the small window.
The sound of the thunder shook through the building, the plates and
cutlery shaking around in their cupboards, a picture on the wall
behind Sebastian falling off.

“
You picked it,” Mark added once the
thunder had subsided.

Mark was friendly with Sebastian, and
though Sebastian was still withdrawn, I got the distinct impression
they were friends. So why had Sebastian never told me about Mark,
but had spent all of his time painting Maratova as some evil
monster? Mark was clearly the one in charge. That, or Maratova was
a strong, silent, and overbearing leader who let others do all the
talking and planning while he covered the evil-glaring side of
things.

Had Mark been there last night? I wasn’t
sure, but I doubted it; I got the impression that if he’d been
there, things would’ve turned out differently. He was the kind of
guy who thought about things before he did them, something
Sebastian wasn’t capable of.

“
We’ll be fine here. The storm will
probably blow itself out in the next half-hour or so.” Mark
shrugged. “Is this place secure?”

Sebastian shook his head. “You need
someone down by the door. I can't guarantee no one will come
through. We barricaded it, but you probably need someone to watch
it.”

Maratova growled. “You should have told us
that first, Shaw.”

Perhaps there was one thing Sebastian had
been honest about: Maratova had true enmity for him, and as I
watched Sebastian turn to gaze at the man, I realized the feeling
was mutual.

“
Anderson,” Mark spoke to the other soldier
with a flick of his head, “Get downstairs to check the
door.”

Anderson replied with a short nod, turned,
and half jogged to the stairs and out of sight.

“
What about the roof?” Sebastian asked. “Do
you think anyone can come in the same way you did?”

“
Rappel down from a helicopter in a violent
storm? I wouldn't put it past them,” Mark nodded. “Maratova.” Mark
flicked his head upwards.

Maratova grunted
and headed off towards the stairs. Not before he
shot me a look, and it wasn’t the kindest of looks. It made me
swallow. What was this guy's problem?

“
Are you okay?” Mark asked. “We didn't get
a chance to....” He stopped speaking, obviously unsure of how to
say what he wanted. “Um, in the woods,” he tried.

I knew what he meant, I also knew why he
was dodging around his words. I’d been running like a mad woman
from them, and it wasn’t a fond memory.

I shrugged, playing with my hands. “I'm
fine.”

“
Your feet?” he said, voice
awkward.

I was starting to get the impression that
although he had the genuine dignity and loyalty of a soldier, he
wasn't all that good at speaking to women, or maybe not women he’d
been chasing through the woods with a gun.

I shrugged again, a smile playing at my
lips. “They hurt like hell,” I said honestly.

He winced and nodded. “Sorry about
that.”

It wasn't his fault; it was my fault. My
fault for being so damn stupid. My fault for being so damn
paranoid. My fault for letting Sebastian make me think that letting
the army capture me would be a one-way ticket to prison or
death.

“
I shouldn't have taken my shoes off,” I
replied weakly.

It was enough to draw a bare smile. It was
awkward as it inched its way across Mark's face; he clearly wasn't
sure if that was the kind of thing you were meant to smile
at.

Sebastian cleared his throat.

“
You’ve had a hell of day,” Mark turned to
him. “I have to say, I wasn't expecting your call.”

I shivered, it was involuntary, and they
both looked my way. I rubbed my arms and pretended I was cold.

Mark leaned over to the seat near him,
grabbed the throw that was over the back, and handed it to
me.

“
I didn't want...” Sebastian trailed
off.

Mark frowned. “What happened? How did you
two end up here? How did you find her?” Mark angled his head
towards me. “Last we saw her she was in the woods by Stanton's
estate. How did she end up here?”

I blinked and cleared my throat. What was
going on here?

Mark turned my way, the beginnings of a
guilty look crumpling his face. “I apologize, ma'am, I didn’t mean
to talk about you in third person while you are still in the room.
It was rude of me.”

“
You're okay,” I replied with a
stutter.

“
Can you tell me how you got here, Amanda?”
He turned to me.

I opened my mouth wide, confused. Wouldn’t
he know? He was working with Sebastian, clearly, and it had been
Sebastian who’d brought me here.

“
His car,” I replied, dumbly.

“
I found her,” Sebastian cut in.

Mark nodded, looking confused, but not
suspicious. “That's lucky,” he said with a nod.

Sebastian stared down at the floor.
“Lucky,” he repeated, voice dull.

Mark nodded. “I have to be honest with
you, ma'am, there are some...” he trailed off, looking awkward
again as he searched for the right words, “Not so nice guys after
you at the moment.”

“
Yeah, they ruined my drawing
room.”

Mark nodded sagely. He took a large
breath, chest puffing out. “Did they get the globes,
Amanda?”

It was the first time he'd mentioned them,
and god, it was the first time I’d thought about them in
ages.

I shook my head.

“
Where are they? You can tell me, I will
keep you safe and I will keep them safe,” Mark said, and he sounded
genuine. A promise from Mark was worth 1000 from
Sebastian.

“
I don't have them,” I croaked.

“
Where are they?”

“
I—” I began.

“
They’re in a safe place,” Sebastian cut
in.

What was Sebastian doing?

I turned to him,
brow drawing down as my lips widened in a confused
move.

Mark nodded
. “Well that's a relief, you would have no idea
how many mercenaries and criminals you have after you,” he added
with a sharp chuckle, and he sliced his eyes towards me, “But you
don’t have to worry, Amanda, everything is under
control.”

No, I very much doubted that, but I could
appreciate things were a lot safer now the cavalry was here and I
was no longer at the whims of the mercurial Sebastian.

“
I- I don't have the globes,” I repeated
again.

Sebastian put a hand up, turning to me,
his expression odd. “It's okay, Amanda,” he used a careful and
condescending tone, “They will be safe for the time
being.”

What was he playing at?

“
One of the boys said that Maratova’s team
pistol-whipped you last night,” Mark interrupted.

Sebastian swallowed uncomfortably. “Yes,
they did, got me right between the shoulders.”

Mark blinked and let out a pressured sigh.
He appeared ready to say something, but when he looked at me he
pressed his lips closed.

Though I couldn't be sure, I had a suspicion
Mark was Maratova’s superior, and Mark wasn't that fond of the
man’s brutish nature.

“
I take it the army is not about to suspend
my contract?” Sebastian asked, turning from me and looking like he
had zero intention of ever turning back.

Mark shook his head. “We appreciate your
service, Sebastian,” he left it at that.

T
here was another enormous clap of thunder, but this time it
was accompanied by a far greater shake, the kitchen erupting in a
cacophony of clattering cutlery and crockery. Though the clap of
thunder was loud, I fancied I heard something shatter upstairs; the
faintest tinkle of glass and a snap of wood.

Both Mark and Sebastian obviously heard it
too, because they raised their heads to the ceiling, both of their
expressions pressed with confusion and concern.

Mark
put a hand on his gun, face still turned up to the ceiling
above, lips parted gently in obvious concentration.

I swallowed again, a simple and slow move,
but the only thing I was capable of.

I watched both of them as they tensed,
obviously waiting to see if they heard any more suspicious sounds
from upstairs. Frankly, the sound of the storm outside was
horrendous, and through the reverberations from the waves below and
the roar of the sea and wind, I doubted they would be able to hear
much at all.

I heard footsteps descending the stairs,
heavy footsteps.

I watched Mark raise his gun. Before
anything could happen, I heard a gruff call from up the stairs.
“It’s just me,” I recognized Maratova's voice.

Despite the fact it was obviously not a
new horde of criminals descending from above, I couldn't say I was
comforted much. I couldn't shake the cold and dead feeling Maratova
gave me.

He
descended all the way onto our floor, walking around to us,
his footsteps only somewhat muffled when his big heavy boots came
in contact with the lush carpet of this small lounge
room.