Page 40 of The Eagle's Vault

“Why do you need photos?” asked Isaac, who’d been surprisingly quiet. Not so surprising, given Rav’s glower whenever Isaac uttered a syllable. “You already know who you have to give it to.”

Declan stopped taking images and frowned at him. “We may need them for leverage.”

Chapter 15

Declan

Howhadthingsgoneso wrong?

Rav pulled up behind the hotel, the early-morning air crackling with energy. Rome slept while we dashed out of the van to the back door.

“A more interesting evening than I was expecting,” Jayce muttered, her eyes darting around.

The door creaked open, and Malcolm greeted us, his silhouette a welcome sight. “Emmett saw a car out front. Been there longer than it should.”

I didn’t like this. The car could be trouble. Could be police. Could be whoever was behind Edoardo’s blackmail. Could be a damn coincidence.

Scarlett was first to the door, her arm brushing Malcolm’s in a gesture more intimate than the situation called for.

Next came Leigh and Isaac, then me, Jayce, and Rav pulling up the rear.

“Move your ass, Dec,” Jayce snapped, nudging me forward.

As I slipped by Malcolm, I took in his hard gaze. A flicker of a nod passed between us. I hadn’t seen him on the job in London or Venice—I’d been on the other end of an earpiece from him several times—but finally seeing his work face made me feel better. The more competent people on this team, the safer we all were.

Scarlett hissed over her shoulder before she started up the stairs, “Rav, we still clear?”

Rav pulled the door closed, sealing us all in at the base of the stairs.

My skin prickled with a familiar unease. I glanced at Leigh, her face pale but resolute, the stubborn set to her jaw sending a twinge of admiration through me. This was what I’d signed on to when I joined Scar and her mother in their fool company. But Leigh? She’d been thrown into this mess and was hanging on better than I’d expected.

“Rav, you’re with Isaac. Make sure he’s quick.” Scarlett’s order was firm, clear, no room for argument. She started up the stairs first.

“I can help Leigh,” Jayce piped up.

“No.” Scarlett was half a floor ahead of us already. “Jayce, pack your shit and get outside to watch our exit. We need eyes out there.”

A protective surge kicked in my chest. Before I could stop myself, the words flew out of me. “I’ll grab Leigh as soon as I’m packed.”

Leigh, already detouring onto the second floor, paused. “Room 204.” Her jaw had clearly been a disguise because her voice shook slightly.

Isaac scowled. “We don’t need a chaperone. I can look after Leigh.”

Scarlett halted at the stairwell turn to the third floor and leaned over the railing. “Go solo if you want, Isaac. But I told you from the get-go you do things our way or you do them alone.”

Isaac’s jaw clenched, a flash of annoyance crossing his face, but he conceded. “Fine.”

Leigh and Isaac broke from us to the second floor, while the Reynolds team spread out on the third. As I hurried to my room, I couldn’t shake the look in Leigh’s eyes.

Let alone the look when I’d kissed her temple.

In my room, I moved with practiced efficiency. Years prepared to bolt at the slightest moment—that was how Scarlett planned things. I’d learned to live out of one bag, essentials only. A few clothes, the tools of my trade, everything packed with purpose.

The worry in Leigh’s eyes, the guilt—I’d almost undone her seatbelt and pulled her into my lap. I could have wrapped my arms around her and held her there. Whether it would have been for her or for me wouldn’t have mattered. I would have had her warm breath at my neck.

My fingers moved with a mind of their own—go bag was in the van, grabbed the toiletries bag from the bathroom, stuffed errant items into the duffel. I zipped the bag, swung it over my shoulder. Looked around the room one last time. Good to go.

This was supposed to be a simple job. Safe. But I packed most things every morning out of habit. I was glad for it now.

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