She pushed the memories from her mind roughly, turning to one of the men on the roof. “See anything on your side?”
“Nothing,” he confirmed.
She scoured the roads again.Richard Montrose, where are you?
Then one of the girls gave a shout. Samina hurried over to see where she was pointing. Sure enough, a trail of police cars was coming their way, their lights off and sirens silent. In the middle of the convoy was a large armored paddy wagon, which presumably contained Paranjay and his men.
The crew watched as the police cars slowed in front of the museum. Twelve men exited the first two vehicles, which matched what Hasan had said. The extra forty-eight men who got out of the next eight vehicles did not. Something hard and sharp weighed on Samina’s chest.
She held her hand out to the girl. “Give me your binoculars.”
Pressing them to her eyes, she focused the lenses on the two men who had gotten out of the very last car: Captain Richard Montrose, his gold locks gleaming in the Marnapur sunset, and Paranjay, wearing a bag over his head.
Samina squinted.If they brought the prisoner transport vehicle, why did Paranjay ride with Montrose?She focused the lens again, zooming in on Paranjay as Montrose gave him a shove forward.
Something was off about Paranjay. His clothing matched what Hasan had described, though it hung loosely on his body, his denim slacks pooling around his ankles. A pang went through her at the sight.They must have starved him for a month, for him to have lost so much weight.But she couldn’t shake the sense that there was some key detail that she was missing. As Paranjay disappeared into the museum, Samina squeezed her eyes shut.
“Think,” she hissed. “Come on, come on.”
She drew up the image in her mind: Paranjay, head bent, face covered, bare arms pulled back into cuffs as he?—oh, fuck.Her eyes snapped open, heart pounding. She thrust the binoculars back at the girl with a curse.
Turning her attention to the other crew members on the roof, she whistled loudly. “One of you, fetch Zeyar!” she shouted. “Tell him that we’re going to need backupnow. The rest of you, get inside the building! There’s going to be a fight, and we’re already outnumbered.”
The group hustled to the door on the roof. The girl with the binoculars paused, turning back to Samina, who hadn’t moved. “What about you?” the girl asked. “Aren’t you coming?”
Samina shook her head, her short hair falling into her face as she crouched on the edge of the roof, staring down at the street below. “I’m taking the fast way.”
Gripping the bricks, she launched herself over the edge. Samina scaled her way down to the room that the museum staff had cordoned off earlier, hoping that she wasn’t too late.
She perched on the ledge of the window, peering into the room. Hasan stood with his back to her. Behind him, Poppy’s white dress was barely visible, hem peeking out between the wide stance of his legs. Their bodies were nearly touching as he bent his head. Samina nearly lost her grip as she took in the scene.Pantheon, save me. What is he doing?Though she was clearly interrupting something, she needed to warn Hasan before Montrose arrived. Samina lifted her hand to pound on the window, but before she could, the door flew open.
Samina dropped immediately, clinging to the ledge with her fingers, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts that matched the sprint of her pulse. Her torn finger pads ached, but the threat of the fall only made her dig them in harder. By some miracle, Richard Montrose hadn’t seen her.
But Samina would wait until the night was over before she offered the gods any thanks.
• • •
Poppy’s offer hung in the air between them. Hasan recognized the look in her eyes now?—it was the same expression she’d worn on her face minutes before she’d broken his nose: defiance. He didn’t have time for this. His brother’s life hung in the balance. Each second she didn’t give him the information he needed was a second he could be spending getting Paranjay back. Seizing her wrist, he backed her up, pinning her against a glass display case. In his hand, her pulse thrummed like a hummingbird’s wings.
“You,” he growled, “are in no position to negotiate. You’re the prisoner here, and you would do well to remember that.”
“A prisoner with knowledge you want,” she fired back.
He glared at her, the intensity so strong that she turned her face in an attempt to avoid it.
“Don’t play coy with me, Miss Sutherland,” he said, pulling her chin forward with two fingers. “Lives are at stake.”
She closed her eyes, steadying herself. Then she opened them again, locking eyes with him. “R-Richard,” she began, her voice trembling. “Richard doesn’t?—”
Footsteps marched down the hallway, fast approaching. Hasan spun away from Poppy, but he kept one hand firmly clamped around her wrist. The brass handle turned, and then the door swung open on silent hinges. The shadow entered before the man, but Hasan knew who it was by the voice alone.
“I see you’ve brought my fiancée,” Richard Montrose said. He entered the room, flanked by two officers. More officers waited outside the closed door, preventing anyone else from coming?—or going. Six more officers entered, surrounding a man with a burlap sack over his head from all sides.
Hasan’s heart skipped a beat.Paranjay.He bit his tongue hard to keep from calling out to his brother. Though he was mostly concealed by the officers flanking him, Paranjay looked different?—thinner, dimmer, his once-easy stance now curled away under the tense line of his hunched shoulders. Hasan couldn’t see farther below his shoulders, and he didn’t dare risk studying him much longer. If he showed too much interest in Paranjay, he had no doubt that Montrose would try and change the stakes of their bargain.Stay focused,he reminded himself, training his eyes on the biggest threat in the room. His gaze met a frigid blue stare.
“So,” Montrose sneered, sizing him up. “Thisis the infamous Jackal. What a shame. You’re not quite as big as your reputation.”
Hasan ignored the transparent attempt to bait him. “Captain Montrose, I’ve brought your fiancée, unharmed, as you can see. Remove my sailor’s hood, and then we can leave.”
