the darkness from which they’d come. “She has nothing to do with this. You want me.”
Langdon prayed that Sienna was now making progress along the wall. If she could sneak beyond the viewing platform, she could then quietly cross back to the central boardwalk, behind the spike-haired woman, and move toward the door.
The assassin again raised her light and scanned the empty garret behind him. With the glare momentarily out of his eyes, Langdon caught a sudden glimpse of a form in the darkness behind her.
Oh God, no!
Sienna was indeed making her way across a strut in the direction of the central boardwalk, but unfortunately, she was only ten yards behind their attacker.
Sienna, no! You’re too close! She’ll hear you!
The beam returned to Langdon’s eyes again.
“Listen carefully, Professor,” the assassin whispered. “If you want to live, I suggest you trust me. My mission has been terminated. I have no reason to harm you. You and I are on the same team now, and I may know how to help you.”
Langdon was barely listening, his thoughts focused squarely on Sienna, who was now faintly visible in profile, climbing deftly up onto the walkway behind the viewing platform, entirely too close to the woman with the gun.
Run! he willed her. Get the hell out of here!
Sienna, however, to Langdon’s alarm, held her ground, crouching low in the shadows and watching in silence.
Vayentha’s eyes probed the darkness behind Langdon. Where the hell did she go? Did they separate?
Vayentha had to find a way to keep the fleeing couple out of Brüder’s hands. It’s my only hope.
“Sienna?!” Vayentha ventured in a throaty whisper. “If you can hear me, listen carefully. You do not want to be captured by the men downstairs. They will not be lenient. I know an escape route. I can help you. Trust me.”
“Trust you?” Langdon challenged, his voice suddenly loud enough that anyone nearby could hear him. “You’re a killer!”
Sienna is nearby, Vayentha realized. Langdon is talking to her … trying to warn her.
Vayentha tried again. “Sienna, the situation is complicated, but I can get you out of here. Consider your options. You’re trapped. You have no choice.”
“She has a choice,” Langdon called out loudly. “And she’s smart enough to run as far from you as possible.”
“Everything’s changed,” Vayentha insisted. “I have no reason to hurt either of you.”
“You killed Dr. Marconi! And I’m guessing you’re also the one who shot me in the head!”
Vayentha knew that the man was never going to believe she had no intention of killing him.
The time for talking is over. There’s nothing I can say to convince him.
Without hesitation, she reached into her leather jacket and extracted the silenced handgun.
Motionless in the shadows, Sienna remained crouched on the walkway no more than ten yards behind the woman who had just confronted Langdon. Even in the dark, the woman’s silhouette was unmistakable. To Sienna’s horror, she was brandishing the same weapon she had used on Dr. Marconi.
She’s going to fire, Sienna knew, sensing the woman’s body language.
Sure enough, the woman took two threatening steps toward Langdon, stopping at the low railing that enclosed the viewing platform above Vasari’s Apotheosis. The assassin was now as close to Langdon as she could get. She raised the gun and pointed it directly at Langdon’s chest.
“This will only hurt for an instant,” she said, “but it’s my only choice.”
Sienna reacted on instinct.
The unexpected vibration in the boards beneath Vayentha’s feet was just enough to cause her to turn slightly as she was firing. Even as her weapon discharged, she knew it was no longer pointed at Langdon.
Something was approaching behind her.
Approaching fast.
Vayentha spun in place, swinging her weapon 180 degrees toward her attacker, and a flash of blond hair glinted in the darkness as someone collided with Vayentha at full speed. The gun hissed again, but the person had crouched below barrel level in order to apply a forceful upward body check.
Vayentha’s feet left the floor and her midsection crashed hard into the low railing of the viewing platform. As her torso was propelled out over the railing, she flailed her arms, trying to grab onto anything to stop her fall, but it was too late. She went over the edge.
Vayentha fell through the darkness, bracing herself for the collision with the dusty floor that lay eight feet beneath the platform. Strangely, though, her landing was softer than she’d imagined … as if she had been caught by a cloth hammock, which now sagged beneath her weight.