Even in the Darkness

An image of Melody flashed through her mind—fresh-faced, laughing, filled with the kind of spontaneous joy Tori had never been allowed. The thought of how easily that could change sent her pulse racing. She had to get to her daughter. Had to grab the box and run as far and as fast as she could.

“Don’t even think about it.” His voice held quiet authority, his expression not changing as he tugged her closer to his side.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything.”

“You were thinking about running. Save us both the time and energy—don’t bother.”

There was nothing to say to that, so she didn’t speak at all. Not that she had the energy to do more than keep up with Noah. He moved with a long, brisk stride, not slowing his pace as they stepped onto a narrow, paved road that led to the outskirts of Mae Hong Son. Rundown houses and faded buildings stood like weary sentinels to either side, their long shadows touching the road with darkness. In the distance, deep green mountains brushed the sky, shrouded in mist and mystery. A few people hurried along a cracked and broken sidewalk, too rushed to notice the strangers in their midst. Or maybe they noticed and chose not to show it. An odd thought, but one Tori couldn’t shake.

Nor could she shake the feeling that she and Noah were being watched, that every step they took was being monitored. She glanced around, tense with nerves, and was surprised by the warmth of Noah’s breath as he spoke close to her ear. “Relax. They’re friends. Of a sort.”

“Who?”

“The people watching us.”

So he felt it, too. Tori wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or even more worried. “Who are they?”

“No one we need to worry about. An acquaintance of mine owns some property around here. He likes to know who’s coming and going.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“It should. There’s no love lost between Hawke and Lao.”

“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me who Hawke and Lao are?”

“Hawke is a man I’ve worked with a few times. Lao is a suspected member of the Wa, a militia group based across the border in Myanmar. Lao’s the one you took the box from.”

“I didn’t take the box. I bought it.”

“You have the box. He wants it back.”

“Why? It’s a box. Pretty. Expensive. But just a box.” She expected him to ignore her question. Instead he stopped short, pulling her around to face him.

His face was granite hard in the fading light, his eyes the blue-green of angry ocean waves. “I’d like to think you believe that.”

“I do.”

He watched her, his expression unreadable, then turned and started walking again.

“I’m telling the truth. I saw a rosewood trinket box at a tourist shop when I was visiting Wat Doi Kong Mu. It was broken, so the clerk brought one out from the back.” The words spilled out, and Tori bit her lip to keep from saying more.

“And was killed for his efforts.”

“What?”

“Story on the street is he was robbed and beaten to death. Truth is, Lao doesn’t take kindly to having his plans ruined. Especially not when the Wa is involved. You might want to keep that in mind.”

The words might be either threat or warning. Neither was necessary. Tori knew the danger she was in, the danger Melody would be in if she had the box and the people who’d abducted Tori found out about it.

Lao. The name was unfamiliar, the taste of it bitter against Tori’s tongue. She raked a hand through her hair, wincing as her fingers caught in tangled curls. Nothing made sense. The well-ordered life she’d been living was suddenly a bizarre dance whose steps she didn’t know. She’d have to learn them fast if she was going to survive. And the only way to learn was to ask questions, get answers and weed out the truth from the lies. “Where did you say we were going?”

“A safe place.”

“Safe from Lao.”

“That’s right.”

“And will I be safe from you?”

“Safe enough.”

“Are you always so talkative?”

He shot her a sideways look meant to still her words. “Are you?”

“No.”

“Now would be a good time to go back to your old habits.”

He picked up the pace, leading the way through a dim alley, then across several narrow streets. Jaw set, he turned into a dark, dank walkway between two buildings. “Stay close through here. You get lost and you might never find your way out.”

“Right.” The word rasped out, the deepening shadows and dingy grayness of the surrounding walls enough to convince Tori that she should do as told.

The air reeked of sewage and rot. Bags of garbage overflowed with spoiled food and decaying trash. The ground teemed with living things, insects and lizards darting away as Tori and Noah moved forward. Geckos clung to the cinder-block sides of the buildings, their tan bodies scurrying into motion.

Not a place to linger. Especially not when insects and lizards didn’t seem to be the only creatures thriving in the garbage-clogged alley. Tori could feel the weight of human gazes following the progress she and Noah were making. She wondered who they were, where they were hiding, when they would show themselves. If they would show themselves. She imagined the whiz of a bullet, the pain she’d feel as it slammed into her flesh.

“This is it.”

Noah’s words pulled Tori from her macabre thoughts, and she turned her attention to the low stone wall and wrought-iron gate in front of them. Both looked new and well tended. The property that Noah’s friend owned? Probably. Tori didn’t know who the friend was, but the fact that he and Noah were pals had already biased her against him.

Noah put a hand on the gate and pushed it open. “Let’s go.”

He stepped through. Tori straightened her spine, clenched her jaw to stop its trembling and followed.

Chapter Three

Thick mist shrouded the courtyard, making monsters out of shadows and trees, and painting the world in eerie light. Noah led Tori to the front of a two-story stucco building and pounded his fist against a faded wood door. Then they waited. Tori stood close beside him, her tension obvious in the soft, quick gasp of her breath. When the door swung open, she started, her hand grasping his arm, then dropping away as if she’d suddenly realized what she was doing.

“Come on.” He pulled her inside a dark room, felt more than saw someone move to close the door. Then the hard barrel of a gun pressed tight under his jaw. He didn’t flinch, didn’t try to pull his weapon. Just waited.

“Sawatdee khrap, my friend.” The words were spoken in rapid-fire Thai.

Noah answered in the same. “If we’re friends, why the gun?”

“Precaution. Why are you here?”

“Hawke owes me a favor. I’ve come to collect.”