The Goddess Legacy

Chapter 7

Allie stiffened at Drake’s warning, and then their reunion was interrupted by the voice of one of the soldiers.

“Miss?”

Drake and Allie pulled apart and she eyed the man. “Yes?”

The soldier looked her up and down and then pointed near her feet. “I think you dropped your passport.”

“My…” She looked around and spotted the blue cover lying on the floor behind her. “Oh. Thank you. It must have slipped out of my purse.”

Drake leaned down and scooped it up. “Yes. Thank you. That could have been a disaster.”

The soldier gave her a small salute as his companion looked disinterestedly at the other arrivals, and they walked away, returning to their position by the doors. Drake handed her the passport and she slipped it into one of her carry-on’s zippered compartments.

“You scared the crap out of me with your ‘act natural’ thing. What the hell’s wrong with you?” she said.

“It’s been a rough day. Take your bag?”

“I can handle it.” She blinked at him. “I didn’t expect you to meet me.”

“Yeah, well, we had an emergency.”

“An emergency?”

“Yes.”

“Like?”

Drake looked around slowly, and Allie gave him a dark stare. “Drake, you’re really freaking me out now. Stop it.”

Drake spoke in a low voice. “Spencer’s contact was murdered, and the cops are searching for him.”

“What?” she demanded loudly, her tone shrill, and several people turned to see what the fuss was. Drake took her arm and led her toward the exit doors, an untroubled smile plastered in place.

“Keep your voice down. We can’t go to the hotel.”

“Why not?”

They stepped outside and a blanket of heat enveloped them. He leaned into her and told her about the narrow escape from the police. Her eyes widened as he finished, and she stared at him uncomprehendingly.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?”

Drake grimaced. “I wish.”

She stood rooted to the spot and eyed him helplessly. “Well, what are we supposed to do?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out.”

“That’s all you’ve got?”

“All this just happened, Allie. I’m still digesting it.”

She stood frozen to the spot. “Decapitated?”

He looked around again. “Allie, please. Crank it down a few notches, okay?”

She made a visible effort to rein in her mounting panic. “Someone’s cutting people’s heads off, the cops are hunting Spence, and the problem’s my volume?”

“We don’t know enough, Allie. Someone could be watching us.” He explained his reasoning.

“So now we’re in danger, too?”

“I didn’t say that. I said we have to be careful.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I knew coming to India was a bad idea. I should have said not a chance. But no, I let you talk me into it again. Why? Why did I go along?”

“Allie, I just found out when I got to the hotel. This isn’t my fault.”

She shook her head. “Well? What’s your plan? Do we stand around here and wait for a guy with a machete to ask if we’d like a lift?”

“Let’s get a cab. But we can’t discuss it in the car. Everyone speaks English.” He paused and considered her blazing eyes. “It’s good to see you, Allie. I missed you.”

“Don’t even think about it, Drake. I’ve been on planes forever, and you have me walking into a shit storm. Do not try to sweet-talk me. I’m in no mood.”

“How was the flight?”

She didn’t answer, preferring to hoist her bag and point at the taxi line. “Lead the way.”

The atmosphere in the cab was tense in the pervasive heat, and Drake didn’t need to be psychic to read Allie’s opinion of New Delhi’s nighttime splendor as they entered the city limits. Any momentary optimism he might have felt about the time it would take to get to the hostel evaporated when they found themselves stopped dead in a sea of brake lights, still a good quarter mile away. The temperature rose to an intolerable level in the cab, even with the windows down, the air conditioning the standard Indian nonfunctional variety he’d encountered so far.

Drake stuck his head out the window and squinted at a wall of cars, all stalled. Impatient and restless, he tossed some bills at the driver, hefted Allie’s bag from where it sat on the bench seat between them — a fitting metaphor for their situation — and swung his door open.

“Come on. We can walk the rest of the way.”

Allie glanced at the deteriorating sidewalk, where a prone figure lay either sleeping — or dead. “This just keeps getting better and better…” she complained, and followed him out of the car.

“It’s not that far,” Drake said, and stopped in his tracks at the sight of emergency lights flashing atop four police SUVs stuck in the traffic jam, their sirens achieving nothing to part the sea of vehicles. They walked past the police vehicles, the hostel now only a few blocks away, and Drake took Allie’s hand.

“That can’t be good,” he said, and picked up his pace.

At the next block the source of the traffic jam became obvious: a small herd of sacred cattle stood in the middle of the intersection, as though debating which direction to go. Two had decided to take a load off their hooves and were lying on the pavement, watching the others. Four locals were attempting to prod them out of the way, but with no visible success.

“Welcome to India,” Drake said, and looked back over his shoulder. Several of the police were out of their trucks, approaching the intersection. “Want to bet they’re headed to the hostel?”

“But how could they have found Spencer? I thought you said it was safe!”

Drake broke into a jog with Allie in tow. “I don’t know, but we need to warn him.”