Chapter 5
The cool wind gusted up the narrow canyon with a rumble of thunder, and she shivered and rubbed her arms. For the past two hours theyd climbed at a reckless pace, cutting across plunging hillsides, backtracking through shallow stream beds, edging around valleys so steep shed grown dizzy when shed braved a glimpse down.
And Logan hadnt spoken the entire time. Hed been restless, alert, checking frequently for signs of pursuit, his AK-47 at hand.
The thunder rolled again, drumming through her aching forehead, and she glanced uneasily at the darkening sky. The land had stilled, the air hushed as the storm approached, turning as ominous as Logans temper.
And just as ready to explode.
He left the creek and prowled back to her then, leading his hulking horse. She eyed the barely leashed power in his forceful strides, the dark eyes burning beneath the brim of his weathered hat.
And a sudden flutter skimmed through her nerves, hummed in her blood. Angry or not, everything about this man appealed to her. Just the memory of that kiss made her body pulse with heat.
He stepped close, forcing her to look past his steel-hard chest to meet his eyes. And that virile maleness swamped over her again, that electric awareness that made her forget to breathe. She pressed her hand to her belly to quiet her nerves.
All right, lets have it. His deep voice broke the charged silence. What are you doing out here? And I want the truth this time.
She turned to the gelding, stroked the elegant nose sloping beneath the silver brow band, buying time while she chose her words. Her colleague had warned her not to tell anyone about the dagger, not even Logan Burke. The danger of theft was far too great.
But Logan didnt care about treasure. He helped the miners, made a living hauling silver and gold. She slid him a glance, eyed the taut grooves bracketing his masculine mouth, the implacable planes of his face. And she knew that she could trust him. This man was honest, honorable. She felt it down to her bones.
I told you I need to find Quillacocha, the lost Inca city, she said. And thats true. I do need to find it. But not to study the tomb. Im looking for the dagger, the Roma dagger. The one from the legendthe Gypsys Revenge.
He didnt blink, didnt move. He continued to watch her, alert, intent, like a dangerous predator studying his prey. Only a slight narrowing at the corners of his eyes indicated hed heard.
You probably know the story if youre part Roma, she said. It was a standard childhood tale. The Indian goddess Parvati, impressed with an eleventh-century kings courage in battle, rewarded him with three sacred possessionsa necklace, a dagger, and crown. Combined, these treasures gave the Roma king the power to rule the world.
But then a hot-headed prince rose to the throne, lusted after a forbidden virgin, and misused those powers to take her. Heartbroken and disgraced, the woman cursed the Roma king and condemned the Gypsies to roam.
Soon afterward, the Roma were driven out of India, their priceless treasures lost. Generations of archeologists and fortune hunters had searched for the treasures ever since.
Logan shifted, made a low, rough sound of disgust. Yeah, Ive heard of it. Who hasnt? That necklace was in the news for months.
Dara nodded. The discovery of the necklace in a Spanish bank vault had rocked the worldand not just because it was Nazi war loot. It was proof that the treasures existed, that the legend had a kernel of truth. And when the Spanish government decided to return the necklace to its rightful ownersthe Gypsiesexperts from around the world had converged on the palace to get a closer look.
Shed been there that fateful night. Shed stood behind her parents as they waited to receive the necklaceand watched them die.
The memory surged, catching her unprepared, and she clutched the geldings neck. She closed her eyes, struggled to ward off the inevitable parade of imagestheir splattered flesh, their pooling blood, her mothers vacant eyes.
She swallowed hard, battled the nausea rising in her throat, tried to push the horror aside. Shed had three months to come to grips with her parents murders. Three months of flashbacks, nightmares, grappling to find logic in two tragic, pointless deaths.
She opened her eyes, dragged her gaze to the unyielding man beside the horse. I dont know where the crown is, she said quietly. No one does. But the dagger is here in Peru. Ive studied documents from the time of Pizarro, the conquistadores. And about two months ago, I figured out where it is.
In Quillacocha. His voice was flat.
Yes, in the royal tomb. She tightened her grip on her packthe backpack that contained her research, the diagrams of the tomb, proof in case anything happened to her. Im sure its the Roma dagger. The description fits it exactlythe patterned wootz steel they used in India at the time, the gold hilt inlaid with amber, the engravings of the sun and moon. And once we get to Quillacocha, I know exactly where to look.