The Right Path Part 32

The crew left the boat to gather in the shadows of the beach. A hooded figure moved to join them. At Nick's signal, the cove was flooded with light. The rocks became men.

"In the King's name," Tripolos stated grandly, "this vessel wil be searched for il egal contraband. Put up your weapons and surrender."

Shouts and the scrambling of men shattered the gla.s.slike quiet of the cove. Men seeking to escape, and men seeking to capture tangled in the sudden chaos of sound and light. Gunfire shocked the balmy air. There were cries of pain and fury.

The smugglers would fight with fist and blade. The battle would be short, but grim. The sounds of violence bounced hol owly off the rocks and drifted out on the air.

Nick saw the hooded figure melt away from the confusion and streak from the cove. Swearing, he raced after it, thrusting his gun back in his belt. A burly form col ided with him as another man sought escape. Each swore at the obstacle, knowing the only choice was to remove it.

Together, they rol ed over the rocks, away from the noise and the light. Thrown into darkness, they tumbled helplessly until the ground leveled. A blade glistened, and Nick grasped the thick wrist with both hands to halt its plunge to his throat.

The crack of shots had Morgan springing up from her chair. Had she heard, or just imagined?

she wondered as her heart began to thud. Could they be so close? As she stared into the darkness, she heard another shot, and the echo. Fear froze her.

He's al right, she told herself. He'l be here soon, and it'l be over. I know he's al right.

Before the sentence had finished racing through her mind, she was running down the steps and out of the vil a.

Tel ing herself she was only being logical, Morgan headed for the beach. She was just going to meet him. He'd be coming along any minute, and she would see for herself that he wasn't hurt.

Nick's jeans hung loosely at her hips as she streaked down the cliff path. Her breath was gasping now, the only sound as her feet padded on the hard dirt. Morgan thought it would almost be a relief to hear the guns again. If she heard them, she might be able to judge the direction. She could find him.

Then, from the top of the beach steps, she saw him walking across the sand. With a sob of shuddering relief, she flew down them to meet him. He continued, too intent on his own thoughts to note her approach. Morgan started to shout his name, but the word strangled in her throat. She stopped running. Not Nicholas, she realized as she stared at the hooded figure. The moves were wrong, the walk. And he'd have no reason to wear the mask.

Even as her thoughts began to race, he reached up and tore off the hood. Moonlight fel on golden hair.

Oh G.o.d, had she been a fool not to see it? Those calm, calm eyes-too calm, she thought frantical y. Had she ever seen any real emotion in him? Morgan took a step in retreat, looking around desperately for some cover. But he turned. His face hardened as he saw her.

"Morgan, what are you doing out here?"

"I-I wanted to walk." She struggled to sound casual. There was no place for her to run. "It's a lovely night. Almost morning, real y." As he advanced on her she moistened her lips and kept talking. "I didn't expect to see you. You surprised me. I thought-"

"You thought I was in Athens," Dorian finished with a smile. "But as you see, I'm not. And, I'm afraid, Morgan, you've seen too much." He held up the hood, dangling it a moment before he dropped it to the sand.

"Yes." There was no use dissembling. "I have."

"It's a pity." His smile vanished as though it had never been. "Stil , you could be useful. An American hostage," he said thoughtful y as he scanned her face.

"Yes, and a woman." Grabbing her arm, Dorian began to pul her across the sand. She jerked and struggled against his hold. "I won't go with you."

"You have no choice"-he touched the handle of his knife-"unless you prefer to end up as Stevos did."

Morgan swal owed as she stumbled across the beach. He said it so casual y. Some people have no capacity for emotion-love, hate. He hadn't been speaking of Iona, Morgan realized, but himself. He was as dangerous as any animal on the run.

"You tried to kil Iona too."

"She'd become a nuisance. Greedy not only for money, but to hold me. She thought to blackmail me into marriage." He gave a quick laugh. "I had only to tempt her with the heroin. I had thought the dose I gave her was enough."

Purposely, Morgan fel to her knees as though she'd tripped. "You would have finished her that morning if I hadn't found her first."

"You have a habit of being in the wrong place." Roughly, Dorian hauled her to her feet. "I had to play the worried lover for a time-dashing back and forth between Lesbos and Athens. A nuisance. Stil , if I'd been al owed one moment alone with her in the hospital ..." Then he shrugged, as if the life or the death of a woman meant nothing. "So, she'l live and she'l talk. It was time to move in any case."

"You lost your last shipment," Morgan blurted out, desperate to distract him from his hurried pace toward the beach steps. If he got her up there-up there in the rocks ... and the dark ...

Dorian froze and turned to her. "How do you know this?"

"I helped steal it," she said impulsively. "Your place in the hil s, the cave-"

The words choked off as his hand gripped her throat. "So you've taken what's mine. Where is it?" Morgan shook her head.

"Where?" Dorian demanded as his fingers tightened.

A G.o.d, she thought staring into his face as the moonlight streamed over it. He had the face of a G.o.d. Why hadn't she remembered her own thought that G.o.ds were bloodthirsty? Morgan put a hand to his wrist as if in surrender. His fingers eased slightly.

"Go to hel ."

Swiftly, he swept the back of his hand across her face, knocking her to the sand.

His eyes were a calm empty blue as he looked down at her. "You'l tel me before I'm through with you. You'l beg to tel me. There'l be time," he continued as he walked toward her, "when we're off the island."

"I'l tel you nothing." With the blood singing in her ears, Morgan inched away from him. "The police know who you are, there isn't a hole big enough for you to hide in."

Reaching down, he grabbed her by the hair and hauled her painful y to her feet. "If you prefer to die-" Then she was free, going down to her knees again as Dorian stumbled back and fel onto the sand.

"Nick." Dorian rubbed the blood from his mouth as his gaze traveled up. "This is a surprise." It dropped again to the revolver Nick held in his hand. "Quite a surprise."

"Nicholas!" Scrambling up, Morgan ran to him. He never looked at her. His arm was rigid as iron when she gripped it. "I thought-I was afraid you were dead."

"Get up," he told Dorian with a quick gesture of the gun. "Or I'l put a bul et in your head while you lie there."

"Were you hurt?" Morgan shook his arm, wanting some sign. She'd seen that cold hard look before. "When I heard the shots-"

"Only detained." Nick pushed her aside, his gaze fixed on Dorian. "Get rid of the gun. Toss it over there." He jerked his head and leveled his own revolver.

"Two fingers. If you breathe wrong, you won't breathe again."

Dorian lifted out his gun in a slow, steady motion and tossed it aside. "I have to admit you amaze me, Nick. It's been you who's been hounding me for months."

"My pleasure."

"And I would have sworn you were a man concerned only with col ecting his trinkets and making money. I've always admired your ruthlessness in business

-but it seems I wasn't aware of all of your business." One graceful brow rose. "A policeman?"

Nick gave a thin smile. "I answer to one man only," he said quietly. "Adonti." The momentary flash of fear in Dorian's eyes gave him great pleasure. "You and I might have come to this sooner. We nearly did last night."

A shadow touched Dorian's face briefly, then was gone. "Last night?"

"Did you think it was only a goat who watched you?" Nick asked with a brittle laugh.

"No." Dorian gave a brief nod. "I smel ed something more-foolish of me not to have pursued it." "You've gotten careless, Dorian. I took your place on your last run and made your men tremble." "You," Dorian breathed.

"A rich cache," Nick added, "according to my a.s.sociates in Athens. It might have been over for you then, but I waited until I was certain Alex wasn't involved. It was worth the wait."

"Alex?" Dorian laughed with the first sign of true pleasure. "Alex wouldn't have the stomach for it. He thinks only of his wife and his ships and his honor." He gave Nick a thoughtful glance. "But it seems I misjudged you. I thought you a rich, rather singleminded fool, a bit of a nuisance with Iona this trip, but hardly worth a pa.s.sing thought. My congratulations on your talent for deceit, and"-he let his gaze travel and rest on Morgan-"your taste."

"Efxaristo."

Morgan watched in confusion, then in terror, as Nick tossed his gun down to join Dorian's. They lay side by side, black and ugly, on the white sand. "It's my duty to turn you over to Captain Tripolos and the Greek authorities." Calmly, slowly, Nick drew out a knife. "But it wil be my pleasure to cut out your heart for putting your hands on my woman."

"No! Nicholas, don't!"