Chapter 22

Watching Nicki across the room with the much older man had set off a riot of reactions within Stefan, none of them worth paying attention to but all of them impossible to ignore. Clearly, the two were familiar, and clearly they were not inappropriately entangled. He could tell that by their body language. Yet he'd found a reason to break off his conversation with Omir to come striding over like a jealous boyfriend, and now that he was in front of Nicki, he didn't have anything specific to say.

What was wrong with him?

"Josef is a well-known windsurfer—a former champion, though he'd never admit it. He's running a training school." Nicki's eyes were alight with interest. "More importantly, he had information about the ruins. Says a student of his went up there, and they're nowhere near finished, and that the place is closer to a construction zone than an archaeological site. Chances are someone's cutting corners to get the excavation done before heritage sites learn about it. Which would be a really good reason to use workers who can't gossip."

He nodded. "Was he able to get inside?"

"Nope, only check it out from over a fence. But how difficult would it be to get in for someone who probably has his own ruins to exploit in O?ros, the Ala?ati of the North?"

Stefan blinked at her, startled, then realized she was joking. "I've tried suggesting it already to Omir," he said. "He wasn't interested in talking about anything but the surfing expo."

"Oh, give me a break." Nicki rolled her eyes. "If you really want to get his attention, I can do that." At his skeptical glance she handed over her plate. "Why do you think Lauren really chose this dress? She wasn't expecting you to jump my bones, I can tell you that."

She turned on her heel and sashayed across the room to where Josef and Omir were huddled. Predictably, Omir's face brightened as Nicki stepped up to him, and Stefan dumped her plate in irritation onto the nearest passing server's tray. He moved through the crowd, nearing the trio, until he could hear Nicki plainly.

She actually cooed.

Stefan grimaced and forced himself to extract the details of the conversation. Yes, yes, Omir was familiar with the site. It would be a future pride of Ala?ati. No, it wasn't ready—there were no tourists allowed. Yes, it would be beneficial to have video shot of the work in progress…

At that point, Stefan knew they had him. There was no need for Nicki to continue to flirt with the official, but she didn't seem to realize that. She pressed up against him as if he were the most interesting man in the southern hemisphere. She wasn't merely dangerous in that dress, she was a lethal weapon, and one he was more than willing to disarm. If only he could?—

"Sir."

Stefan looked up, surprised to see Tamas. They'd made arrangements for updates to be relayed during the party by person, not by electronics, in case Omir was scanning anything. Sometimes the simplest solution was the best. But Tamas had chosen his moment well. Stefan remained on the open veranda, and the wind had picked up, swirling around the conversations and serving as an effective scrambler to everyone's words.

"How has your tour of the city been?" Stefan asked easily.

"Perfection." Tamas grinned. "The weather, the restaurants, everything in its place. And the residents are so trusting and welcoming. You can walk in almost anywhere and feel at home." He shrugged. "There are exceptions, of course, but until you get up into the mountains, you will never exhaust the goodwill this city has."

Stefan nodded. The security was lax throughout much of the old town, from what Tamas was saying. But up on the ridges surrounding the city, the story was different.

"I haven't been exploring much. I have heard Ephesus is remarkable."

"Eh, why bury yourself outside the city when there is so much more here to see? Everything you want is right here."

"You've heard that story enough times that you're starting to believe it?" Stefan asked good-naturedly, clapping Tamas on the shoulder. This time, however, Tamas's expression lost its good humor. Turned as he was away from the crowded veranda, he was only visible to Stefan. But now his face appeared almost ashen, his eyes stark and cold.

"I have heard it often enough to know it is true," he said. "All roads lead to the same walls. There's no way to tell what those walls are hiding, though."

"Such is the nature of walls," Stefan said. "What about anything locked inside that isn't human?"

"Heard that too." Tamas shrugged. "That I believe less, but it's still unsettling. Still, you should be prepared for dogs at the very least."

"Agreed. You've been at it long enough, and tomorrow will be another long day. You should get some rest."

Tamas ducked his head, firmly back in his role of earnest tourist. "I couldn't agree more," he said brightly. The two of them exchanged another round of pleasantries, then the O?rois special forces operative slipped back into the crowd, drawing appreciative glances but little true attention as he made his way back out.

For his part, Stefan couldn't shake the expression that had transfixed the young man's face. Whatever Tamas had heard had convinced him that Ari was, in fact, a prisoner inside the asylum they'd been targeting—a hulking warehouse on the southern ridgeline above Ala?ati. Whether he was alive or not, there was no way to guess. Security was also tight around the asylum, which would surprise no one. If people knew there were inmates in the building, they'd want to be sure they were kept inside—and even if not, asylums were the type of buildings that invited extra security.

Even with the tour that Nicki was in the process of adroitly arranging, getting into the asylum wouldn't be as easy as asking Omir if they could pop in next door for an extended visit. But seeing the building close up from the vantage point of the ruins might prove useful. So would seeing exactly who was working on the excavation teams.

He had a feeling there were very few actual drunkards that had been roped into service. Chances were good they were all squatters, the poor, the mentally ill, or small-degree felons, offered a chance to work off their debt to society. If so, and if Ari had eventually stopped acting erratically, there was a good chance he had survived. As Stefan had told Nicki, Ari was tall and strong, and was no stranger to hard work. He could—possibly—have survived this long.

"Hey!" Stefan turned as Nicki bounded up to him. "I spoke to Omir, and guess what?"

"He agreed to give us a tour—tomorrow, under the pretext that you'll be shooting video footage of the ruins to aid him in his promotion of the city's project."

"That's right! He didn't completely skeeve me out either, which I was expecting. I mean, there was low-level skeeve, but totally manageable. I can't believe that was so easy!"

"And your friend Josef? Will he be joining us too?" Stefan eased his expression as he spoke the words to lessen their sharpness, and Nicki squinted at him.

She laughed. "Seriously? Is this jealousy? He's twice my age and has five kids. Um, no."

He lifted his brows, unable to keep from asking the question. "You don't care for children?"

"Not when they're other people's, and not for myself until I have oh, I don't know, a roof I can put over their heads. Somewhere that's not in Indiana, preferably."

"I'm not so certain. Indiana sounds like a very wholesome place to raise children. Although unless I miss my guess, it's not a place famed for its windsurfing opportunities.

"You would be correct."

Nicki laughed then, single-handedly dragged him out of the dark waters of his own thoughts. He couldn't—wouldn't—wait another moment to touch her again.

"Stefan?" Nicki finally caught his mood and misread it, her face shuttering into a mask of concern. "Is everything all right?"

"It isn't. I need to speak with you a moment."

Nicki peered around the room. They were an island among a hundred or so milling guests, and no one was paying attention to them.

"You can't talk to me here?" she asked.

He shook his head, unable to keep the harshness out of his voice. "Not for what I need to say."