Colin shoved his dagger into the sheath on his thigh and, at the same moment, jumped through the black hole where Bea had disappeared. A blast rang out, hitting the wall only inches from his head. A piece of rock flew through the air and landed on the floor, right before Colin hit the ground with a thud. His hat fell away, rolling across the floor like tumbleweed. He jumped to his feet.
“Bea!” Colin whispered furiously into the dark.
There was no response.
“Damn you, Bea! Where are you?” He moved through the inkiness, his arms outstretched like a blind person.
“Bea, where—” His foot hit something hard, propelling him forward.
His arms swung wide as he attempted to regain his balance. Unable to hold himself upright, he fell to his knees, his palms flattened to the ground. His muscles flexed, the cut on his arm throbbing. He had no time for an injury. Colin gritted his teeth, and stumbled upright.
“Bea, where the hell are you?”
Torchlight filled the room, shimmering across the yellowed stone and bringing the walls to life. A variety of marble statues were scattered around the place as if to keep guard. Some had toppled over, their heads and arms missing. Colin darted behind one of those gods, his mind spinning furiously fast. It wasn’t the first dire situation he’d found himself, but it was the first time he’d had to worry about someone else.
“Come, do you truly think you can hide?” Stephan called.
“I can try,” Colin muttered softly.
The light came closer as they stepped into the room. In the soft orb of light they provided, he could see high stone walls disappearing into a ceiling of darkness. The area was large, but not that large. They’d find him soon enough. And unless she’d found a way out, they’d eventually locate Bea. Colin bolted forward, diving from dark shadow to dark shadow, where the light couldn’t reach. To hell with the statue. To hell with the treasure. He needed to find Bea.
“You see,” Stephan called out, his voice calm and even. He thought he’d won. “It’s silly, really, to run. There is no way out. We knew you’d come here and we were waiting.”
Colin leaned back against a statue, the marble cooling his fevered skin. Damn it. He had to think of something and fast. Shuffling feet whispered closer … closer. He hoped to God that Bea had found an escape. As silently as possible, he moved to the wall and inched his way around the perimeter of the room. The walls were rough under his fingers, rough, but solid, there was no opening, no sign of outside light through cracks. No way out.
“Mr. Finch,” Stephan said.
Colin held his arm close to his chest, trying to stop the trickle of blood. He didn’t want to leave behind any trail. He was already making it too easy for them. He wasn’t surprised they knew his name. Were they working with Bea’s cousin Henry? It would make the most sense. But then, why not use Henry to open the map? After all, Henry had the same blood as Bea and Leo. Why would they need Bea?
“You can’t hide and you are only prolonging the inevitable.”
Colin paused, his heart hammering in his chest. The bastard was right. He wouldn’t be able to escape, but he could fight. Surprise would be his weapon. Slowly, he slid the knife from the sheath on his thigh, gripping the hilt. He could fight, and damn it all, he’d take that bastard Stephan with him to hell.
He moved his right foot forward.
Fingers clasped around his left ankle. Colin stiffened in shock, resisting the urge to yell out a curse. It took only a moment to realize the grip belonged to Bea. He slipped the knife into the sheath as Bea tugged on his trouser leg. He hesitated only a moment. Finally, trusting her, he dropped to the floor, lying flat on his stomach. The dust puffed around him, tickling his lungs, but he refused to cough.
“Here,” she said next to his ear, her sweet breath whispering against the side of his face.
“Where?”
She didn’t respond, but tugged on his shirt, pulling the hem from his waistband. Colin rolled to his side, and suddenly, there was nothing but air underneath him.
“Damn it,” he hissed as he fell to the ground with a thud.
“Are you all right?” Bea crawled atop him, her warm body covering his. Heat shot through his veins, the attraction immediate and ridiculous, given their circumstances. Even in the middle of a dire situation, his body reacted to the woman. Bea’s soft hands slid up his chest, her lips close to his.
“You could have warned me.”
“No time,” she whispered, and her legs fell open so she straddled his waist.
His member stirred to life. Hell. Did she even understand what she was doing to him?
“Spread out, find him. He couldn’t have disappeared.” Stephan’s voice echoed from the room above like cold water to his overheated senses. Footsteps pounded, sending tiny pieces of debris and rocks pattering onto Colin’s face.
He swiped his features clean. “Where are we?”
Not waiting for a response, Colin wrapped his right arm around Bea’s waist, keeping her on top of him, while he reached out with his left hand, feeling the rough stone above. More stone. A coffin. They were in a damn coffin.
Chapter 16
“It’s a tunnel of sorts,” Bea answered.
Colin couldn’t deny the relief he felt. They were safe for now, but Stephan’s men would locate the tunnel soon enough. “How’d you find it?”
“A butterfly.”
He paused, confused. “A what?”
“Nothing. I’ll explain later.” Bea was breathing heavily, her high voice edged with panic. A lesser woman would have succumbed to fainting by now. “I think it was under one of the statues. One that had fallen over.”
A quiver trembled through her body. He reached up and cupped the sides of her face, knowing she was close to losing control. He didn’t blame her. “It’s all right, Bea.”
She took in a deep, shuddering breath. “Colin, I’m frightened.”
His heart warmed, realizing she trusted enough to tell him the truth. He wouldn’t destroy that trust. He’d find a way out. “I know. Come on. We might as well follow the tunnel. It has to lead out.”
Bea sniffled as she crawled off him. “You think so?”
“Sure,” he managed.
Side by side, they inched their way forward. Tiny pebbles dug into the injury on his arm, but he didn’t dare curse.
He could hear Bea beside him, whimpering in her own discomfort, but keeping quiet for the most part. He felt oddly proud of her.
“Colin,” she whispered. “How much farther?”
“Until we’re safe.” He realized how ridiculous that sounded, but she didn’t point that out, merely continued to crawl beside him like a solider going into battle. Truth was, he didn’t know where the hell they were going. Didn’t know if this damn tunnel would lead them to safety or death.
“Colin,” she said some minutes later.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, his muscles beginning to quiver like a newborn pup. Damn it, his strength hadn’t fully returned and he was quickly draining. “Hmm?” He glanced back.
The gray light from the opening they’d fallen through had disappeared. They were in complete and utter blackness. He couldn’t be positive, but it felt as if they were going downhill. The air had grown colder, the rock damp.
He felt Bea’s warm hand on his forearm. “Colin, I just … I wanted to let you know …”
He paused, noting the seriousness of her voice.
“I … thank you.”
Just like that his annoyance fled. She couldn’t see him and he knew it was safe to smile. She liked him. She might not admit it, but she liked him. She was close, her soft body pressed next to his, so close he could almost forgive Stephan for their situation. He turned, knowing she was facing him for her breath fanned across his lips.
“Sounds like a farewell speech,” he said.
There was a telling quiet and he could imagine the endearing flush on her face.
“Just … in case,” she finally whispered.
 
; “Well then, darlin’, that’s not how you say farewell. This is.” He reached out and cupped the back of her head, his fingers slipping between her cool, silky strands.
Before she could inch back, he pulled her toward him. By instinct, his lips found hers. She tasted like the berries they’d eaten only an hour ago … sweet and tangy. So incredibly good. Heat shot through his body, an almost painful need to hold her close, to make her his.
Heedless to the men searching above, he tilted her head and deepened the kiss. Bea looped her arm around his neck, pressing her chest to his. Dear God, he was insane, completely insane to be doing this now. Yet when Bea sighed, Colin took full advantage and slipped his tongue between her lips. He didn’t know why, but he felt the need to taste her. To kiss her thoroughly, completely.
Muffled voices echoed down the tunnel, shattering through their lovely cocoon of seduction. Reluctantly, Colin drew back. “We’ve been found.”
She didn’t respond, but he could feel the frantic beat of her heart against his chest, feel her harsh breathing fan across his face, so hot that for a second he thought about kissing her again. They’d been found and he could hardly care.
“We … we should go,” she whispered, the voice of reason. Apparently she wasn’t as affected by his kisses as he was with hers.
“Come on,” he mumbled, sounding more annoyed than he wanted.
Had his kiss confused her? Hell, he didn’t have time to deal with perplexing virgins at the moment. He started forward, forcing sexual thoughts of Bea from his mind. Something sticky and fine caught against his face. Colin grimaced, reached up, and pulled the web from his skin. The tunnel had to end eventually. Then what?
“Colin,” Bea whispered beside him.
Were they crawling into a trap? Did they have any other choice? Damn, he should have stayed in the room. He should have attacked. He could have taken—
“Colin!” Bea snapped.
He jerked his head toward her. “What?”
“I believe the tunnel has widened.”
Colin paused. Carefully, he extended his arm up. No rock met his fingers. Cool air brushed across his skin … open air. He slipped his feet underneath him and stood hesitantly, his hands above his head to feel for a ceiling. No ceiling came. The room was tall, wide, but how tall, how wide?
“Find the wall,” he said into the darkness. “See if you can locate any other rooms, doorways, tunnels.”
“Colin, light!” Bea whispered furiously.
He turned. There, on the far wall, a pinpoint of light so small it allowed only a faded ray of sun into the room. A ray so faded that it did nothing to show the details of their location. With his gaze, he followed the ray as it sliced weakly through the darkness. At the end of the beam, something … sparkled … something across the room.
“Stay here.” He moved toward that tiny window, his heart thundering with each shuffled step. Was it a keyhole? A way out? But the closer he got, the more the window took shape. A flower. A lotus, he realized, about as large as the palm of his hand. At the wall, he gently ran his fingers up the rough surface. There was no crease, no line that suggested a door or escape. Just above his head, too far to look out, the tiny window beckoned. Why the hell would there be an opening here?
“They’re coming!”
He spun around, searching for Bea. But it was impossible to see her in the dark. With his arms outstretched, he started back toward her. His foot hit something hard. It skittered across the floor before landing with a soft splash.
Colin froze. “Bea, stop.”
“What is it?” She sounded out of reach.
“Don’t move, there’s water.”
Muffled words echoed from the tunnel, growing louder with every moment that passed. Their enemies were getting closer; they were running out of time.
“Bea, come toward me, follow my voice. Slowly.”
Her shuffled feet drew nearer and he prayed she made it to his side in time. They had only moments before Stephan arrived and then what? Hell, why pretend he had a plan? He hadn’t a damn clue what to do.
“Colin?” Her warm breath whispered to him.
“Here. Keep coming.” He started forward, frantic to reach her.
Torchlight bounced down the tunnel, flaring into the room, warning of Stephan’s imminent arrival. “It’s open,” he called, his voice high with excitement.
Too late. They’d arrived.
“Colin,” Bea whispered.
She was close, so close, he could smell her … clover and lavender. He reached out and found her warm shoulders. His heart hammered in his chest, his body prepared to fight for this woman. He didn’t have a sure plan, but he knew he wouldn’t let anyone harm her. They would get out alive. He slid his hand down her arms and wrapped his fingers around hers, then jerked her down into the shadows.
“Stay low,” he whispered. Outnumbered, surprise would be their only advantage.
He squeezed her hand, an unspoken command to keep quiet. Light danced across the top of the cavern, a smooth, rounded ceiling of the same sandstone that made the walls. Each tiny piece of quartz sparkled. Gods morphed from the rock, crawling from their tomb to glare down at them as if wondering how they’d dared to find their place of worship. At the sight, Bea gasped, her eyes as wide as a child’s in front of a toy shop. Colin clasped a hand over her mouth, containing her excitement.
He had only moments, brief moments in which to study their prison. Flowery designs were made with pieces of gold and brilliant colored jewels swirled up to the top of the ceiling. Colin started to pull his gaze away when he caught the faded color spread upon the dome. Escape momentarily forgotten, he dropped his arms from Bea. With narrowed eyes, he attempted to make out the painting. A triangular shape of some sort. He turned and the shape took purpose.
India. It was a painting of India. Done in colors of blue and green, it was barely visible stretched across the ceiling. Never had he seen anything like the mural.
“Colin.” Bea nudged him in the side.
He dropped his gaze. “What?”
Bea pointed ahead. Torchlight had found the middle of the room, and with it was highlighted a statue of pure gold that rose from the middle of a murky pond. A god, at least ten feet tall, sitting on a lotus. This was the small sparkle he’d seen at the end of the ray. This was why Anish had sent them here. This statue was another clue that would lead them to the treasure.
“Blimey,” Stephan whispered, shuffling closer, the torch in his hand highlighting his stunned features.
The natives who stumbled after him paused, gasping in a universal language of shock. For one odd moment, they were all bonded in awe. With their gazes fastened to the riches covering the room, it was the perfect time to escape. Colin tore his attention from the statue, taking Bea’s hand more firmly in his.
“Get ready.”
She nodded, although her gaze remained pinned to the statue.
“What is it?” Stephan asked, his voice a breathless whisper.
“It’s Brahma,” a strong, familiar voice called out from the opposite side of the room.
Bea sucked in a breath, her hand tightening in Colin’s.
There, barely visible under the torchlight, half-hidden in the shadows, stood Demyan. The man who should have been dead five times over. Anger flared through Colin, a blistering heat that boiled his blood and made him see red.
“Dem,” Stephan said, his voice shaky. “I … You see …”
Demyan’s gaze was focused on Stephan as if he didn’t notice Bea and Colin crouched on the floor in front of him. “Silence.” The man’s voice was as hard as the stone walls surrounding them. Stephan jumped.
Bea fell back into Colin, her body trembling. His grip on her upper arms tightened. He hated that she was afraid, hated that he couldn’t protect her. But he could try. He jerked her behind him, hiding her as much as he could with his own body. All the while, his gaze scanned the room. How had Demyan gotten inside? Was there another entrance, or had he b
een here, waiting all this time?
“We found the statue,” Stephan persisted, yet his voice was hesitant, unsure.
Demyan didn’t move. “Yes, I see that.”
Stephan followed the edge of the small pond, spreading his arms wide. “Of course, we were going to tell you.”
Demyan cocked his head to the side, as if in deep contemplation. “Really?”
Stephan nodded, his frantic gaze flickering around the room. Most likely he was looking for an escape route. Demyan lifted his arm. There was no word or warning. Colin recognized the glint of metal a split second before the pistol went off. The shot echoed through the room. Bea gasped and flung her arms around Colin’s waist, her face pressed to his back. The natives dove to the floor, their torches still in hand, highlighting the fear on their faces.
“Why?” Stephan stumbled forward. Dark red blood soaked his white shirt. With wide eyes and ashen face, he crumpled forward, into the water. A soft splash sent droplets into the air. Bea sucked in a breath, latching on to his shirt.
No one else moved. No one said a word as they watched the body float facedown in the murky depths.
“Get them,” Demyan said calmly.
The natives rushed toward Colin, their faces set in determination. The torchlight fluttered over the walls like demons making sport of their plight. The Indians had seen what would happen if they disobeyed Demyan, and they weren’t about to die.
“Right. Well then, here we go.” Colin jerked the blade from the sheath on his thigh.
The men slowed, circling like vultures. He’d been in fights before. Colin had the scars to prove it. But he’d never had to protect someone and watch his own back. An odd need welled within. Like a man out to secure what was his, Bea was under his protection. With a growl, Colin lashed out with his knife, catching one man across the gut. The man stumbled back, his hand going to his wound. One down, four to go.
“Colin!” Bea cried out, her fingers digging into his shirt.
He glanced over his shoulder. One of the natives was coming directly toward her.
“Do whatever you can. He won’t hurt you. They need you.” He prayed they needed Bea as much as he thought they did.