I risk a glance back. The figure is darting here and there between the trees, but still keeping close. Panic rises in my throat. My polished shoes slip on the dirt as I struggle to go faster. The house is just up ahead, so close I can see the people through the great glass viewing window that looks out over the grove. If I can just make it back to—yes—there?—
I stumble, crashing into a tree. The impact knocks the air from my lungs. As I look up, dizzy, a figure looms over me, knife glinting.
I don't want to die.
Oh, God, I don't want to die here among the redwoods, my blood seeping into the dirt?—
I use my last breath to scramble to my feet, toward the little stand which displays a brass plaque about the history of redwoods in California, and slam my hand down on the button at the back.
The redwood grove lights up blue as though a brilliant moon has suddenly come out from behind a cloud, a hundred points of illumination dancing through the towering trunks and branches, momentarily making me shield my eyes—and making my pursuer back away, looking from side to side for cover. I pant for air, each breath painful.
Up on the balcony of the house, I hear guests coming out,oohingandahhingat the beauty of the trees.
The figure in black—head to toe, I see now, with a tight ski mask pulled down over his face—takes his chance, and bolts.
And then I hear the most beautiful sound in the world. My name, from Raffi's mouth.
"Darian!Darian!" He storms out of the darkness, gun drawn, but comes straight to me where I've collapsed to my knees next to the stand, panting still.
"Raffi—oh, thank God?—"
"Are you hurt?"
I can only shake my head, still gasping for breath. Raffi helps me to my feet, then pushes me behind him, using his own body as a shield. We hear a rustle further down the path as someone flees into the night. Raffi's head jerks up, fingers tightening on his gun, but he doesn't move from in front of me.
"They're getting away," I whisper.
"You're my priority right now." He puts one arm behind to reassure me, and I cling to it, grateful beyond words for his solid, reassuring presence. "What happened?"
"Someone…chased me…" I wheeze out. "Didn't see them, not really. They had a ski mask on."
"A balaclava?" Raffi asks sharply.
"Yes. All in black. I just…ran. Here. And they had a knife…" I trail off. Telling Raffi that I almost got stabbed might make him run after them, and I really want him here, with me.
"Son of abitch," he hisses, and then he taps his earpiece and, in a low voice, sends out a priority threat alert on the grounds of Redwood.
"What do we do next?" I ask. I'm finally getting my breath back.
"Nothing. We let the ground guards look, and someone'll drag poor Pedretti out of his bed to come in, too. But we do need to warn Leo and Julian," Raffi continues. "Come on."
"Did you see them?" I want so badly to be backed up. What if everyone thinks I'm crazy?
"Yeah, I saw them. Mostly a shadow, running through the trees. No idea who it was. Hell, could be some guest playing around, which is why I didn't take a shot at them. Never know what crazy ideas drunk people get. Let's get the fuck out of here, though, in case they come back."
By the time we emerge from the trees, I've regained my composure, but I stay close to Raffi. As we walk up the path to the house, something catches Raffi's eye, something lying on the neat lawn right in a pool of light coming from the glass walls of the Retreat above.
He bends down to pick it up, and then shows me. A lighter. Raffi's face hardens as he turns it over in his hands and we both see the crest on the back.
The Bernardi crest.
"They had those at the parley. AJ's men," I say.
"Yeah, they did," Raffi says after a minute. He meets my gaze, eyes worried and angry. "We need to get to the bottom of this, but first, we need to make sure everyone's safe. And you are not leaving my goddamn side until we know what's going on."
CHAPTER 44
RAFFI
