Page 24 of The High Priestess

My fear increases, and I force strength into my voice as I say, “I assume you’d all like to have a meeting to talk about what happened.”

Dominik nods. “Definitely.”

I lift my chin. “Give me an hour to freshen up, and I’ll meet you at the round table.”

Knight starts driving again, and as I focus on controlling my breathing while my heart hammers in my chest, a thought crosses my mind.

What if Knight is keeping an eye on me for the others?

Jesus.

My eyes flick to his face, which might just as well be carved from stone.

No, that doesn’t make sense. There are security cameras and personnel all over the island.

When the golf cart comes to a stop near my house that Dominik had designed with Asian themes, I’m exhausted with a headache pulsing in my temples.

“Thanks for the ride.” I suck in a deep breath before climbing out of the cart, and as I cross the bridge that spans over a stream, my legs threaten to give way.

The previous times I was here, I’ve always felt a sense of peace, but all I feel now is sorrow.

And fear. So much fear.

I have no idea what to do next. I’m aware of the glaring fact that I have to somehow take control of the organization, but I don’t even know where to start. Besides that, everyone’s numbers are on my phone, which I left at home during the attack.

I need to get back to Athens so I can make contact and find out who’s alive and who died.

When I push the front door open and step into the house that’s bathed in luxury, my body is trembling so badly that I head straight for the nearest couch.

As I sit down, I hear the front door shut. My eyes dart up, and seeing Knight has followed me inside, I frown at him.

I can’t look weak, and it takes more strength than I have to stand up again. I meet his eyes and say, “You can go.”

He just stares at me, and it has an apprehensive feeling tensing my muscles.

My mouth grows dry, and I hate that my voice trembles when I demand, “Why are you here? What do you want?”

He tilts his head, his eyes flicking up and down my body. “Sit down before you pass out.”

I’m stubborn by nature, and as much as I’d like to remain standing, I can’t. I drop down on the couch, my gaze still locked on the man who confuses the hell out of me.

Silence fills the tense air, and when it’s clear he doesn’t plan on saying anything else, I ask, “Why won’t you leave?”

A flash of something akin to pain ghosts over his features and he rolls his shoulders as if he’s trying to shake something off. Then he heads toward the bedroom, and I’m even more confused as I watch him search the place.

With a frown on my forehead, I can only stare at the man.

Once he’s satisfied that there’s no one hiding somewhere in the house, he takes a seat on the other couch before meeting my gaze.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my tone incredulous.

“Making sure you’re safe,” he mutters.

I exhale slowly before whispering, “Why?”

For a moment, a frown line appears between his eyes, and a muscle in his jaw jumps, then he says, “I don’t need your death on my conscience.”

What?

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