The Blood of Alexander by Tom Wilde

Author:Tom Wilde
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“We have company.”

Caitlin’s voice made me open my eyes, blinking away sleep. I slowly raised my head and saw Rhea standing near the foot of the large bed, backlit by the early morning light from the balcony. She was dressed in comfortable-looking jeans and a dark blouse, and she was holding a flat bundle in her hands. One of Vanya’s uniformed guards pushed in a cart loaded with silver-domed trays that exuded an inviting aroma of food and coffee. Bowing with the affectation of a geisha, Rhea said, “Forgive the intrusion, but it’s time for Mr. Blake to prepare to leave.”

“Thank you,” Caitlin said in a fair imitation of graciousness, then added, “Now get out.”

Rhea smiled and bowed. “Please be ready in sixty minutes, Mr. Blake.” She placed her bundle at the foot of the bed and then silently left the room.

When the coast was clear, I regretfully left Caitlin, took the bundle of clothes that Rhea had left, and retreated into the bathroom. I hurried through a quick routine of shaving and showering, sorry that I couldn’t relax and enjoy the luxury of the decadently appointed furnishings. I saw that my damaged ribs had picked up an extra layer of color, like a pair of circular rainbows, but they hurt less than before. Marginally, anyway.

The clothes Rhea brought were a pair of tan pants and a shirt that had a distinctly military styling, and I suspected that they were donated by Commander Vandervecken. I dressed and left the bathroom, picked up my meager collection of pocket gear, and found Caitlin sitting up in bed with the sheets gathered about her. As I went toward the breakfast trays, I had an unwelcome feeling I was being fattened up for the kill. I asked Caitlin, “Join me?”

She shook her head. “No. You go ahead.” So I just went about the business of refueling my body as Caitlin kept silent and watched, and I would have given any of the treasures I’ve found over the years to know what she was thinking about.

When I finished, I stood at the foot of the bed. Caitlin and I shared a look for a time, and then I said, “Well, I guess I’ve got to go to work.”

“Just make sure to come back in less than twenty years. I’m not nearly as patient as Penelope. Come here.”

I did. And she gave me a long, warm reminder to return. Soon.

When I left the suite, Rhea was waiting for me in the hall with a black leather shoulder bag that had a matching jacket folded over it. She consulted a gold Lady Rolex. “Close enough,” she said, then her dark eyes narrowed as she asked, “Is something wrong?”

I just dumbly shook my head while I fought an impulse to back away from her. In the hallway light I saw the thin chain-link belt she wore, loosely tied in the front, each end of the chain terminating in a teardrop-shaped metal weight, and her midnight-black hair, pulled

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