Page 46 of The Eagle's Vault

Maybe Iwassafer with the Reynolds team. But the question remained. Safer from what? And for how long?

We stepped into the breakfast room, the aroma of freshly baked pastries and brewing coffee wafting toward us. It was a small, cozy space, scattered with little tables and metal chairs under the soft glow of overhead lights. From one end, light spilled in from outside, while a counter lined the opposite wall, a variety of sweets set out waiting for us.

Thoughts of Isaac flickered in my mind. He’d told me he had meetings later in the day, so he’d be sleeping all morning. I wouldn’t get to see any of the city. More stress knocked around my chest. Would I even be safe touring the city withhim?

Jayce and I loaded our plates with food and poured ourselves steaming cups of coffee. We settled at a corner table, Jayce’s plate overladen with easily twice the amount I’d taken.

“You eat a lot.” I clamped a hand over my mouth. Had I really said that out loud? She was already rubbing off on me.

“Fast metabolism.” Jayce shrugged, tearing a pastry in half. “Now tell me—if you could go anywhere in Rome, where would you go first?”

I nearly choked on my apple cake. It was as if she’d read my mind. I chased down my bite with a sip of coffee, its intense bitterness a perfect counterpoint to the sweet cake and its powdered sugar. “That’s a tough one. There’s so much to see, and I’ve never been here before.”

“Pick something at random, then.” Her unspoken challenge was clear: Make a decision.

I took another bite of my apple cake, chewing as I weighed the options. “I think I’d want to go to the Vatican Museum first. And the Sistine Chapel, of course. Probably the Catacombs after that.”

Jayce grinned, leaning in closer. “Scarlett has a few disguises with her. I’m sure she’d let you borrow one. And you could go out with someone from the team. You know, as a safety precaution.”

My heart fluttered at the thought. I could actuallyseeRome, not justbe inRome. And I could do it with— I pushed the thought away before it could fully form. But it was too late. The idea had taken root, and I smiled at the thought of visiting it all with Declan.

“And if you don’t do that, what else are you going to do all day?” Jayce shriveled her nose, a playful glint in her eyes. “Sit around in the room and read?”

I shrugged. “Other than the work I did for Edoardo and with your team, that’s mostly what I’ve been doing.”

Jayce rolled her eyes, letting her head fall back dramatically. “Girl, it is time you did something you want to do.” She straightened, her gaze boring into me with a fierce determination. “When Scarlett and the others get back, I’m talking to her. You and I are going to see Rome.”

Chapter 18

Declan

Inthedimlightof the overhead bulbs in the Roman Catacombs, Leigh’s disguise screamed like a neon sign. Scarlett’s flaming-red curly wig clung to her head, a stark contrast against the pitted stone and mossy scent of the ancient labyrinth. Thick, black-framed faux glasses perched on her nose, amping the disguise up to costume level.

When Scarlett wore it, it was convincing.

But Leigh? It was almost comical.

Quiet, thoughtful, and as much a puzzle as any safe I’d cracked. She hadn’t needed the disguise—I wasn’t wearing one—but Jayce had recommended it. Maybe it helped get Leigh out of her shell, pretending to be someone she wasn’t. Maybe it helped her stand up to her overbearing brother and wake him before his meetings, announcing her intention.

Although that meant he’d joined us.

Either way, she’d left the hotel for some sightseeing.

Our tour guide, a stick-thin man with spectacles as old as the Catacombs, droned on about the history of the underground crypt. His nasal Italian-accented voice carried, as though he’d been born to the theater. The rest of the group hung on his every word, consumed by the tales of early Christians and papal intrigue. We, however, lingered at the back, keeping our heads down and volume low.

Jayce walked next to Leigh, as though they were now besties. Despite the protective layer of her own disguise—she’d insisted on wearing Scarlett’s short blond bob—the former gymnast looked ready to pounce at any second.

I found myself stuck between watching Leigh and the dank confines of our subterranean tour. Even in her loose jeans and nondescript black T-shirt, she had an understated beauty that would give any Roman goddess a run for her money.

Her head whipped back and forth as she absorbed everything, sending the curls bouncing around her. The catacombs, by contrast, were grim, oppressive, their cold stone and shadowy alcoves whispering of death and long-forgotten secrets.

A part of me chuckled. The other part, the part that lived for the thrill of danger, of doing what I did best, felt an uncharacteristic twinge of fear. She deserved better than to be caught in this mess. But as I followed her and Jayce through the humid catacombs, I couldn’t deny a selfish spark of joy at being here with her.

“Why the Catacombs?” I asked Jayce as we descended farther into the labyrinthine tunnels.

“The Sistine Chapel was a no-go,” Jayce said over her shoulder. “Too many open spaces. Too many people. Scarlett was a real party pooper on this one.”

I grunted. Scarlett had been insistent. Low profile. Avoid crowds. It was just our damn luck Leigh wanted to see Rome’s most popular tourist sites.

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