Page 72 of Vengeance

"You think she'll help us?"

He looked at Chloe. "I don’t know." A slow smile spread across his face. "But I think she's been waiting for me to find her, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing."

Far above them, hidden among the circling vultures and drifting smoke, a tiny surveillance drone silently banked east. Vengeance spotted it, and he knew that someone else now knew they had survived. He had no idea who it was, but he knew one thing for certain—the final hunt had begun.

The drone bothered him. Not because he'd seen it, but because he hadn't at first. That wasn't like him. For nearly twenty years, staying alive had depended on noticing the things other people missed—fresh tire tracks, a broken twig, or the scent of cigarette smoke where no one should have been smoking. He'd survived because he saw everything, but now, he was thinking like a man in love, and that was dangerous.

They'd walked nearly six miles before stopping. The mountains swallowed them whole. The narrow game trail disappeared beneath towering spruce trees, and a small cave tucked beneath a limestone outcropping offered enough shelter for the night. It wasn't much, but it would keep them hidden.

Chloe sat beside a tiny smokeless fire, wrapped in one of the emergency blankets they'd salvaged before abandoning the cabin. Her wet hair hung loose around her shoulders, and she looked exhausted. Vengeance knelt several yards away, methodically cleaning his pistol. His hands worked automatically, even though his mind didn't. He could only think about his mother still being alive.

He'd replayed those few seconds at the creek in his mind a hundred times already. She looked directly at him, and she warned him before she lied to Dante's face. Why had she done that? A twig snapped behind him, and his pistol appeared in his hand before he consciously reached for it.

"Easy." Chloe froze with a cup of instant coffee halfway to her lips.

"You almost gave me a heart attack,” he said. "You were too quiet."

"I've been sitting here the whole time,” Chloe reminded.

He slowly lowered the weapon. "Sorry."

She walked over and crouched beside him. "You've apologized six times today."

"I have?" he asked.

"You keep drifting away," she said.

He looked toward the fire. "I know."

She gently took the pistol from his hands and laid it beside her. "Talk to me."

He laughed quietly. "You really don't give up."

"Nope,” she breathed. "You've been trying to figure everything out by yourself."

"I usually do,” he said.

"You don't have to anymore." The simple statement settled somewhere deep inside him. He wanted to believe it. God, he wanted to.

"My whole life changed today."

"I know."

"I buried my mother years ago,” he said.

"You buried the woman Dante wanted you to believe was your mother." He frowned. “But you didn't bury the truth." She rested her shoulder against his. "You buried one of Dante's lies." He stared at her. She always had a way of making things sound simpler than they felt.

"I don't know how to stop him,” he said.

"You already have."

He blinked. "How do you figure?” he asked.

"You don't believe you're like him anymore. You’ve already beat him at his own game."

His chest tightened. "You helped me do that."

"I reminded you who you really are,” she said.