Garin’s joking manner abruptly disappeared. “Yes, that’s exactly what I expect. Every minute you stay puts you in more danger. We need to leave.”

“I told you, I’m not leaving. I called this in. I have a responsibility to be here when the authorities arrive.”

“That’s exactly what they are counting on!” He clenched his fists in frustration. “Do you think I came out here just to see you looking like a reject from the local Renaissance faire?”

Garin’s insistence, and his single-mindedness, had her worried.

“What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me, Garin?”

“For heaven’s sake, woman, we don’t have time for that—”

“You’ll make time,” she cut in, “or I’m not going with you. Now out with it.”

But rather than say anything more himself, he pulled a digital recorder out of his pocket and hit the play button.

“The Creed woman apparently survived the fall from the roof. She needs to be eliminated before she speaks to the police. Get back up there and get rid of her before she becomes more of a nuisance.”

Annja didn’t recognize the voice, but it was clear that whoever he was, he had intimate knowledge of what had happened at the monastery.

Garin wasn’t kidding around.

“How did you get that?” she asked.

“I’d be happy to explain everything, but right now I think it’s better if we got out of here, don’t you?”

As Annja opened her mouth to answer, the sound of a racing engine reached their ears. They turned to see a dark model Mercedes bounce through the iron gates less than three hundred yards away and rush toward them. Even as they watched, the front passenger window rolled down and a man’s head and shoulders appeared.

In his hands was an automatic weapon.

“Run!” Garin shouted as the bullets began to fly.

15

Annja didn’t need any further encouragement. She turned and ran for the helicopter…only to fall flat on her face as the hem of the robe got tangled in her feet and spilled her to the ground.

The sound of gunfire joined the growl of the car engine, both of which were suddenly drowned out in the rhythmic beat of the helicopter rotors as the pilot saw what was going on and prepared to get his aircraft out of there.

Annja glanced back to see the Mercedes change direction and head right for her.

She scrambled to her feet.

Bullets whip-cracked through the air as Annja frantically glanced around looking for some protective cover, but there was none to be found. She could make a run for the helicopter over open ground or she could turn around and head back inside the monastery, hope to find a different way out before the gunmen caught up to her.

She was wavering between the two actions when the choice was decided for her.

A hand with a grip like steel grabbed her arm.

“Come on!” Garin shouted, half carrying her along beside him as he ran for the chopper.

This time Annja used her hands to hike up the hem of the robe, not wanting to trip on it again. There wasn’t anything she could do about the gravel slicing into the bottoms of her feet, though, so she just ignored it. She’d been through worse and it was a damn sight better than getting a bullet in the head.

Garin’s security team had finally gotten into the act, sending a blistering hail of gunfire at the Mercedes as they raced forward to plant themselves between the enemy and their employer, protecting him as they had been trained to do.

The open door of the helicopter loomed ahead of them.

Garin’s longer stride put him out ahead of Annja by a few feet, so he reached the helicopter before she did. He jumped inside the open doorway and then turned to face her, ready to lend a hand.

She was looking right at him when the bullet took him high in the right side of his chest, tossing him backward into the darkness inside the helicopter.

“Garin!” she screamed.

She covered the last few feet and then leaped inside the helicopter as bullets slammed into the metal fuselage around her. She barely had time to grab hold of a nearby seat before the pilot took them up, arcing away from the gunfire as quickly as he could.

Annja spent an anxious minute holding on for dear life as the pilot leveled out and then she scrambled over to where Garin was lying against the opposite bulkhead.

She ripped open his suit coat, desperately afraid of what she’d find. Whatever mysticism gave Garin his extended lifespan also helped him heal more quickly than the average individual, but a sucking chest wound was serious even for him.

The black face of a bulletproof vest stared back at her.

“Thank God,” she said.

“Can’t keep your hands off me, huh?”

Annja glanced up to find Garin watching her with an amused look on his face.

“You bastard!” she said, backing up to give him some room. “I thought you were shot.”

He coughed, grimaced and said, “I was. That’s how I ended up on the floor, remember?” He pulled himself up into a nearby chair, then indicated Annja should put on one of the headsets hanging off the nearby bulkhead as he reached to do the same.

She did as instructed and she heard him telling the pilot to head for his Frankfurt house.

“What about your men?” she asked.

“They’ll be fine. They’ll neutralize the threat and then disperse as necessary. Don’t worry, they know what they are doing.”

The flight lasted about half an hour. Annja was too worn out to say much and Garin kept his thoughts to himself, which was fine with her. She was still surprised at his sudden appearance and previous experience had her wondering what else he was keeping from her.

As was typical of both Garin and Roux, the “house” could more accurately be labeled a mansion, with two large wings extending off the main building. The pilot set them down on a helipad atop the roof without issue.

Once inside, Garin led Annja to a private suite in the west wing of the house and suggested that she meet him in the den after showering and changing into more practical clothes.

She was all too happy to oblige.

The suite was beautifully decorated, with a luxurious king-size bed and a sunken tub that one could probably swim in. She eyed it enviously for a moment and then decided that a hot shower might be more practical.

She looked around for the clothes Garin had mentioned and found an array of styles and sizes in the wardrobe and the walk-in closet. She stared at all of them for a moment, wondering just who they belonged to. The styles were all quite current, so it couldn’t have been one of Garin’s lovers from ages past. Perhaps he just kept a well-stocked wardrobe of women’s clothing available for whenever one of his companions might need it?

She wouldn’t put it past him.

Annja sought out the most practical outfit she could, which wasn’t easy given most of the clothing was designed to be skintight or extremely revealing. In one of the drawers, however, she found a pair of cargo pants and paired them with a black T-shirt.

She took a hot shower, scrubbing the last of the river grime from her body, and then dressed in the clothes she’d found. They fit her as if they had been custom tailored. That made her speculate that perhaps they actually had been, which took her down all kinds of roads she didn’t want to think about. She found socks in the wardrobe drawers and saw more shoes than she’d ever seen anywhere outside of a shoe store in the closet, including a pair of hiking boots that looked like they’d fit reasonably well. She decided to pad around shoeless for the moment.

Feeling pretty much back to her usual self, she wandered out of the bedroom suite and went in search of Garin.

She found him in the den, dressed casually in jeans and a loose-fitting shirt.

Annja didn’t bother with pleasantries. She’d been patient; now it was time to get to the bottom of things.