her curled up on her side, watching him with eyes that gleamed in the darkened room, but neither of them spoke.
Only Sully managed to sleep. He always seemed able to doze, no matter how terrible the circumstances. He snored deeply, sometimes exhaling loudly, his mustached upper lip trembling with the noise.
On Thursday morning, the flight they thought they had arranged left without them. Desperate hours passed before they were promised another. At last, late that afternoon, they were airborne, comfortably ensconced in a small compartment behind the cockpit.
Finally, Drake slept.
When he woke, with the muffled thump of Irish punk rock coming from the cockpit, he found Sully gone and knew his old friend must be up front with the crew. He lay quietly, watching Jada sleep. With the magenta streaks that framed her face, she usually had an air of confidence even in the middle of her grief. But now in the peace of sleep, she seemed vulnerable, and he had to wonder about the wisdom of their journey. Drake had known plenty of capable women—had had his ass kicked by more than one of them. They had been skilled fighters, survivors, totally able to take care of themselves.
Jada, in contrast, was a question mark. He hoped that she would prove just as tough and capable for her own sake and for Sully’s—and for his, as well. He didn’t want to see her hurt any more than she already had been. At the same time, he knew he would have to keep an eye out for Sully. The old man clearly thought it was his job to protect Jada instead of letting her protect herself. That kind of thinking could distract him enough to be fatal.
“What are you thinking?” she said, her voice a hush, barely audible over the loud airplane engines.
“Have you ever been in a fight?” he asked. “A real one, I mean.”
Jada frowned. “Not a real one, if you mean blood and bruises. Like a beatdown. But I hold my own in the dojo pretty well.” He arched an eyebrow. “Dojo? What do you study?”
“Aikido, mostly. Why?”
Drake smiled softly. Another woman who could kick his ass.
“You know, if we find it—this treasure, whatever it is—I already told Sully we can share it. Even split, three ways,” she said.
Drake would have been offended if the idea hadn’t appealed to him so much. Even so, he didn’t want her to think the potential for personal gain had been his motivation for helping her.
“Treasure’s always nice,” he said. “But that’s not why I’m along for this ride.”
“No?” She studied him as if trying to see behind his eyes. “Why, then?”
For the first time, it occurred to Drake how close they were. Reclined in their chairs, facing each other, only a couple of feet separated them. He could have reached out and touched her face. If he had been any closer, he could have felt her breath on his cheek.
“Your father was a good guy,” he said quickly. “I liked him. And Sully’s my best friend, so it’s not as if I could really say no.”
“You have before,” Jada reminded him. “Uncle Vic told me there was no guarantee.”
“Someone tried to shoot me. I take that personally. Historically, I’m not a fan of people who point guns at me, never mind pulling the trigger.”
“And that’s it?” she asked. “Those are the reasons you’re on this trip?”
Drake nodded, frowning. She was fishing for a different reply. What else did she want him to say?
“Pretty much,” he said.
Only when he saw the disappointment in her eyes did he realize where he’d gone wrong. Jada had been hoping he had also come along because of her—because he didn’t want to say goodbye to her just yet. The look in her eyes lasted for only a second before she hid her reaction from him, but he had seen it, and she knew he had seen it.
“Uncle Vic said you like the mystery, too,” she said.
“What do you mean, ‘the mystery’?”
“History. Digging up bits of the past that have been hidden for ages.”
Drake smiled. “Yeah. That, too. Archaeologists think they’ve got it all figured out. They write books and papers explaining the ancient world as if there’s nothing more to learn. It’s arrogant and foolish, and every time we find something that proves them wrong—proves there are things about the past they don’t understand or never imagined—that makes me happy.”
Jada curled up a bit tighter in her chair. “It is kind of exciting. I’ve been hearing