He continued. “As I was saying, we found an empty grave up there. No skull of Count Dracula, or Prince Vlad, or Mr. Impaler—whatever you want to call him... no ring, either. But we weren’t the only ones looking. We were followed by a couple of men back to Tokat. Managed to lose them, though. Then Fox got a message from someone who claimed to have information on the ring. He sent me out to arrange transportation back to Istanbul, and when I returned to the hotel... Fox was gone.”
“Gone?”
Still holding on to his towel with one hand, he gestured for me to move and ducked behind the door, where a canvas rucksack sat on the bathroom tile. Digging under a jumble of clothes, he pulled out a red leather journal bound with a matching strap.
I recognized it immediately. My father’s travel journal.
He had dozens lined up inside a locked case in his home office, one for every year. I was never allowed to read them. No one was.
The Fox family crest was stamped into the cover with a Gaelic motto:Mo teaghlach thar gach uile ní. Family first. A sentiment I’d had chiseled into my brain since I was old enough to speak.
“He left this for me yesterday at the hotel desk with a note,” Huck said, handing over the journal. “It’s tucked there, on top.”
I set down my travel guide on the edge of the sink and briefly ran my fingers over the soft leather before tugging a folded scrap of wrinkled paper from the taut straps. No mistaking my father’s handwriting. I quickly read the scrawled note:
It’s become far too dangerous. I need to finish this alone. Get to Istanbul as quickly and discreetly as you can and give my journal to Theodora for safekeeping. Take her to that royal hotel we talked about on the way here—remember the story I told you? That one. Don’t delay. I’ll meet up with you both as soon as I’m able. If I’m not there by Friday, don’t stick around: take Theo back to Hudson Valley. Whatever you do, don’t go to Paris.
Beware of hounds on your tail: do not allow anyone suspicious near Theo. If you have a gut feeling about someone, trust it. If possible, try to keep the authorities out of this. We’re beyond their help now anyway.
Tell Theo that if she loses the journal, I’ll kill her.
And if you lose Theo? I’ll kill you.
Family first,
Fox
Fear ballooned inside my chest as my father’s words swam in my vision. The only part of his letter that I fully understood was the bit about not going to Paris. That was where Jean-Bernard Bisset lived. He was a wealthy Parisian antiquities dealer, a longtime family acquaintance, and my father’s closest friend. We had plans to go to Paris after Father was finished in Turkey.
But apart from that, everything else he’d written was gibberish.
“Listen,” I said forcefully. “If you don’t start explaining everything that’s going on here in the next five seconds, I will hurt the softest parts of you.”
“Ah, see there. Youhavemissed me,” he said, one corner of his mouth twisting up.
I pointed the journal at his towel. “Something’s going to be missing, all right.”
“You know what they say. Violence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“Five...” I began counting. “Four, three, two—”
“All right!” he said, shielding the front of his towel with one hand. “Jaysus, Theodora! Do you want to hear? If so, I’d ask that you lower the bludgeoning weapon, please and thank you.”
“I’ll lower it when you put some clothes on.” My eyes wouldn’t stop glancing at a dark line of hair that arrowed down his stomach and disappeared beneath the towel, and it was infuriatingly distracting. “I can’t think straight. Please get dressed!”
“Afraid I cannot. Hotel is laundering my clothes. Been on a mountain for days, haven’t I? Got nothing to wear that’s clean.”
“I swear to all things holy, if you don’t—”
A noise outside the room drew our attention. We both froze in place and remained still as statues for several heartbeats. Then I heard Huck mumble a blasphemous curse.
“It’s only—” I started, but he waved for me to lower my voice. “Room service.”
“Room service doesn’t pick the lock,” he whispered back in a sober tone.
I listened harder to the soft, metallic clicks emanating from my door. The hair on both my arms lifted.
“The bastards followed me!” Huck whispered. Slinging his rucksack over one shoulder, he urged me out of the bathroom doorway. Then he swung around, desperately searching my room for something.
