“I’m going to open the door and we’re both going down the manhole,” her new bodyguard told her.

“No!” Princess Isabelle attempted to free herself. Her royal motorcade was under attack, but that didn’t mean she was going underground.

Levi had her clamped against him so securely she couldn’t move more than an inch in any direction. She felt his neatly-trimmed beard brush her temple as he spoke briskly into her ear. “Once I open the door we’ll be vulnerable. We need to get below ground as quickly as possible.”

Isabelle took a shaky breath. To his credit, though he held her immobile, Levi wasn’t squeezing her too hard for her to breathe. Maybe it was that small allowance that made her decide to trust him.

Or maybe it was because she didn’t have any choice.

Another blast rocked the air, and the hood from another vehicle crashed against the limousine’s windshield.

“We won’t be safe if we stay here. We’ve got to move now.”

About the Author

RACHELLE McCALLA is a mild-mannered housewife, and the toughest she ever has to get is when she’s trying to keep her four kids quiet in church. Though she often gets in over her head, as her characters do, and has to find a way out, her adventures have more to do with sorting out the carpool and providing food for the potluck. She’s never been arrested, gotten in a fistfight or been shot at. And she’d like to keep it that way! For recipes, fun background notes on the places and characters in this book and more information on forthcoming titles, visit www.rachellemccalla.com.

Princess
in Peril
Rachelle
McCalla

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Genevieve the Brave, my princess

Acknowledgments

With thanks and gratitude to my husband Ray, patient first reader, whose grammar and spelling skills far exceed my own.

Thanks also to Emily Rodmell, visionary editor, and all the helpful readers whose insights and encouragement have helped to hone this story. I hope you will not be disappointed.

And eternal praise and thanks to our Lord Jesus Christ, hero of that great epic, King of Kings and Lord of Lords, Amen.

The Lord says: Although I sent them far away

among the nations and scattered them among

the countries, yet for a little while I have been a

sanctuary for them in the countries where they have

gone. I will gather you from the nations and bring

you back from the countries where you have been

scattered, and I will give you back the land again.

—Ezekiel 11:16–17

ONE

The royal motorcade lurched to an unexpected stop. Her Royal Highness Princess Isabelle of Lydia glanced at Levi Grenaldo, her recently appointed bodyguard, expecting him to make some reassuring gesture that would indicate nothing was amiss.

He didn’t look her way. In the silvery sheen of his mirrored sunglasses, Isabelle saw only the rear bumper of her brother’s limousine sitting still on the road in front of them. The seconds ticked by and they sat, unmoving, in the narrow streets of Sardis, Lydia’s capital city.

Something had to be wrong. The motorcade represented the power and pageantry of the royal family and therefore never stopped until it arrived at its destination.

“Why are we stopped?”

Levi didn’t acknowledge her question, but instead pressed the button for the intercom and told the driver, “Get us off this street.”

When the driver hesitated, Levi pressed the button again.

“Now.”

Much as she wanted to remain calm, Isabelle felt her fingers tighten as they gripped the edge of the leather seat. She didn’t like anything about this situation. For one thing, she didn’t trust Levi.

He’d been abruptly appointed as her personal bodyguard five days earlier with no explanation given, and on top of that, he didn’t fit the profile for a bodyguard. Although he was plenty tall and his shoulders were broad with muscles, he was otherwise trim, and the dark angles of his beard gave his face a scholarly look. Unlike all the bodyguards she’d ever had before, his neck wasn’t thicker than his head, and he looked unusually sharp in the tuxedo he wore for the state dinner they were about to attend.

Besides that, the bodyguard read books. Intelligent ones. She’d seen him with his nose buried in political tomes whenever he waited for her to finish an appointment.

Out of place as those attributes seemed, what really bothered her was the way he overrode her requests and limited her freedom. As the eldest daughter of King Philip and Queen Elaine, Isabelle was used to having to change her plans to protect her safety, but Levi’s impediments went far beyond the usual. They’d butted heads several times. After three days she’d asked to have him removed, but her father had refused her request.

All her instincts told her something was amiss.

The driver had the car two points into what promised to be an eighteen-point turn on the narrow street when suddenly a deafening blast rent the air, rattling the official limo, and an orange ball of fire seared the sky in front of them.

Levi’s hand mashed the intercom button.

“Back! Back! Now!”

A second explosion rocked the air even closer behind them, and Isabelle felt the car shudder. Though the royal limousines were made of bulletproof materials, she doubted they’d be any match for that kind of explosion. Her heart twisted with concern for the rest of her family. Alexander, her only living brother, rode in the limousine ahead of her, which didn’t appear to have been damaged by the blast, but her parents’ car was out of sight ahead of those carrying other royal officials. It would have been close to where the first explosion hit.

And her sister, Anastasia, rode in a car somewhere behind hers. Black smoke filled the air. Isabelle couldn’t see any sign of her sister’s car.

Levi cracked the door open and looked down at the street, letting in a wave of heat and the stench of fire and explosives.

“Shut that!” Isabelle lunged past him to close the door, mindful that, inadequate as the car might seem against the fiery blasts, it was the only protection they had.

He pulled the door closed and would have met her eyes had his not been hidden behind his ever-present sunglasses. But his face was suddenly far closer than she was used to her bodyguards’ faces being, even in the midst of pressing crowds and certainly not in the backseat of a car.

His hand hit the intercom again. “Back up three feet and a little to the left.”

The driver obeyed promptly this time.

Even before the limousine had come to a stop, Levi had the door open again. He leaned out and wrestled with something on the ground.

For a second, Isabelle thought about shoving him out and locking the door after him. But much as she didn’t like the man, she wouldn’t stoop to such a move just to keep herself safe, though his actions seemed to endanger both of them, and it frightened her.

A moment later he pulled the door closed again and slid back, slipping one arm solidly around her waist.

Isabelle gave a yelp and tried to jump away.

The vise of his arms didn’t allow her to budge. “Your Highness, I’m going to open the door and we’re both going down the manhole.”

“No!” She twisted her torso in an attempt to free herself.

Levi had her clamped against him so securely she couldn’t move more than an inch in any direction. The touch of his hands and the tenacity of his grip sent memories scurrying out from the dark corners of her mind—memories she’d hoped to keep hidden forever.

She felt his neatly trimmed beard brush her temple as he spoke briskly into her ear. “Once I open the door we’ll be vulnerable. We need to get below ground as quickly as possible. Don’t fight me.”

Isabelle took a shaky breath. To his credit, though he held her immobile, Levi wasn’t squeezing her too hard for her to breathe. Maybe it was that small allowance that made her decide to trust him.

Or maybe it was because she didn’t have any choice.

“The car is bulletproof,” she reminded him in one last attempt to derail his plan. “We won’t be safe if we leave it.”

Another blast rocked the air, and the hood from another vehicle crashed against the limousine’s windshield, the royal hood ornament visible for just a second as the dented metal scraped past them.

“We won’t be safe if we stay here.” Levi reached across the seat. “You can take your purse.” He shoved the satin clutch into her hands. “Anything else you need?”

Isabelle tried to think, but her mind was filled with fears for the safety of the rest of her family. Judging by the proximity of the last blast, she was nearly certain it had been centered just ahead of Alexander’s limo. That may have been the hood of his car that had fractured their windshield! She couldn’t see anything through the black smoke, but she sent up a silent prayer and forced herself not to act on the instinct to leap from the safety of her vehicle to look for her brother. He was a grown man and a soldier. Surely he knew more than she did about staying alive.

“On three.” Levi’s words jerked her thoughts away from her brother and back to the crazy-sounding plan to leap through the manhole. “One, two—”

With no time to protest, Isabelle pinched her eyes shut as Levi opened the door and, in one swift movement, pulled her from the vehicle and shuttled her through the hole in the pavement. Much as she didn’t trust him, she knew the danger outside was real, and she didn’t want to be exposed to it any longer than was absolutely necessary. For that reason only, she cooperated with his actions.

She opened her eyes as the soles of her leather pumps slid against the slippery metal bars that formed a ladder secured to the wall of the tunnel. Although she couldn’t get purchase on any of the rungs, Levi seemed to have a steady hold on both the ladder and her. She wished she’d chosen to wear something a bit more practical than a silk, floor-length evening gown, but the dress had been the perfect choice for the state dinner she was now about to miss.

Her trembling hands reached for the bars, and she managed to grip one securely.

“Hold on tight.” Levi’s instructions sounded close to her ear. “Got it?”

Unable to muster up words, she nodded. He surely couldn’t see much in the darkness of the hole, but he must have felt her movement because he let go of her and reached above them to pull the manhole cover shut.

Metal grated against pavement and Levi’s body rocked as he muscled the cover back into place above their heads.

Orange fire flashed above them and Isabelle felt its heat penetrate their hiding place.

Levi immediately let go of the manhole cover to shield her. As the simmering air stilled, he slid the manhole cover the last couple of inches closed, leaving them in total darkness. “Are you okay?”

Isabelle could feel herself trembling, but she forced her voice to speak. “Fine. You?”

“Fine,” he echoed.

“You didn’t scorch your hands, did you?”

“Not too bad.”

Isabelle was aware that he hadn’t denied being injured, but because he didn’t complain, she didn’t press the question. It wasn’t as though she could do anything for him at the moment.

With the manhole cover blocking out all light, the darkness was damp and absolute, and Isabelle felt a wave of terror wash over her. Who was this man, and what were his intentions? What did the explosions above mean? And where were they? Her nose told her it wasn’t the sewer.

“Can you climb down, Princess?” Levi’s voice surprised her with its closeness.

Suddenly mindful of her position wrapped in the arms of a man she didn’t trust, Isabelle resisted going any farther. Gripping the metal bar a little tighter, she ignored his prompt. “What was that?”

“Ambush.” He stated flatly. “Let’s get moving.”

Isabelle reached upward for the next higher rung. “My family is up there. My brother’s car—”

“You’re not going back up.” Levi tugged her back down, closer against him.

The grip of his arms in the darkness brought more horrible memories rushing back. She fought him instinctively. “No! I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing—”

“Your father hired me to protect you.” Levi’s arms were too strong for her, and her position on the slippery metal rungs was a precarious one.

She tried to fight back. “The royal motorcade was ambushed and now you’re trying to kidnap me. I demand to know why!”

Instead of responding, Levi wrenched her free of the rungs and climbed downward with her more or less slung across his shoulders. “We need to get moving. If the lid on this hole sustains a direct hit, you could be killed standing where you are.”

“Where am I?” A shudder of fear chased through her, but Isabelle stopped fighting and relented to being carried down the dark hole. She felt the vibrations as another explosion rocked the earth in spite of the thick stone that surrounded them, so she didn’t doubt Levi’s warning was sincere.

“The Catacombs of Charlemagne.”

Isabelle startled and nearly fell out of Levi’s arms. He obviously hadn’t expected her to jolt at his words.

“We’re in the Catacombs of Charlemagne?”

“Yes.”

“But they were filled in more than a thousand years ago.” Her words, spoken in an awed whisper, echoed through the empty chamber.

“Your father had them excavated.” Levi climbed downward, his movements slow and deliberate in the darkness.

“How do you know that, and I don’t?” Isabelle couldn’t fathom why her father hadn’t told her. And how had Levi learned of them?

“I was just wondering the same thing.” Levi’s voice echoed louder, and Isabelle realized the chamber had widened with their descent. He continued. “Actually, your great-grandfather King Alexander III began the excavation during the first World War, thinking the royal family might need the catacombs to escape if they were ever threatened on their own soil.” His posture changed as he let go of the ladder, and Isabelle heard the scraping sound of his shoes against the floor of the tunnel. “Little did your great-grandfather know, he was right—just a century off.”

Isabelle wished she could see his face, but the utter darkness hid everything. So much had happened so quickly, she wasn’t sure she entirely understood what Levi was talking about. “The catacombs run beneath the city of Sardis.” She recalled from history lessons. “Charlemagne built them in the ninth century when he used Lydia as an outpost in his attempt to further his kingdom and the spread of Christianity toward the east.”

In a patient-sounding voice, Levi continued the story. “Lydia has always been a Christian nation, so they supported Charlemagne’s efforts.”

“Even though he was eventually thwarted.” Isabelle wasn’t sure how large a space they occupied, but from the way their voices carried, she judged it to be at least a few meters wide, with a ceiling well above their heads. Tentatively she stepped away from Levi, half expecting to feel cold stone against her back. She felt nothing. With a shiver, she took a step back toward him, unwilling to lose her only human contact in the vast darkness.

“Stay near me.” He cautioned her abruptly. “We need to get moving.”

Isabelle gulped a breath of the cool underground air. She had to think. Too much about this situation wasn’t right, and just because the man knew about the catacombs, that didn’t mean she ought to trust him. After all, there was surely little coincidence between the timing of his appointment and the attack on the royal motorcade. For all she knew he was in on the ambush and had brought her into the tunnel to finish her off or hand her over to a political enemy.

But how could she sort out what to do when she couldn’t even see?

Levi tugged on her arm.

“Hold on.” Isabelle pulled her cell phone from her purse and flicked it open, illuminating the screen, its miniscule light startling in the utter darkness of the tunnel, casting their faces and the rock walls around them in an eerie greenish glow.

“Thank you. That helps.” Levi offered her a slight smile.

To Isabelle, his angled lips looked sinister in the flickering light. “You should take your sunglasses off.”

As she watched his face, his jaw tightened under his close-cropped beard. He seemed reluctant to remove the mirrored shades, which, together with the facial hair, hid his face almost completely. At his hesitation, Isabelle realized she’d never seen him without the sunglasses on, not even indoors. For a moment, she wondered why.

Then he slowly peeled back the lenses and she knew the answer.

Not everyone in Lydia had brown eyes, but the majority of the people did. The country was located west of Macedonia, where the heel of the boot of Italy split the Adriatic and Ionian seas. Most native Lydians, like the people of Greece and the rest of the Mediterranean region, had olive complexions, dark hair and dark brown eyes.

As Levi pulled off his sunglasses, she saw that his eyes were blue.

She couldn’t suppress her startled gasp. If Levi wasn’t Lydian, how had he come to work for the royal bodyguard? The law required every member of the Lydian military to be a citizen—and no one could serve as a royal bodyguard without first serving at least four years in the military. By what deception had Levi tricked her father into hiring him? And what was he planning to do with her?

She realized he still had hold of her arm, and she wished there was some way she could pull away and nonchalantly put some distance between them. But Levi remained close to her in their small circle of light. Fear found its way into her voice. “The royal bodyguard draws its team from the elite of the Lydian military forces. Only citizens of Lydia can join the military.”

“I am a citizen of Lydia.”

“How is that possible?”

“My mother is Lydian. My father is American.”

Isabelle felt her eyes narrow. Was he baiting her? Her father, King Philip of Lydia, had married an American—her mother, Queen Elaine. But it was a rare combination, and she found it doubly suspicious that she and Levi had something so unique in common. “Who do you work for?”

“The Lydian government.” Impatience flickered in his blue eyes. “We should get moving.”

“I don’t trust you.”

His expression relaxed slightly. “I sensed that. If you will agree to keep moving, I will explain a bit more of who I am and what I know of this afternoon’s attack.”

Isabelle’s mouth opened slightly as she weighed her answer. Should she move farther into the darkness with this stranger? Every warning bell inside her clamored against it. Yet really, what choice did she have? Surely only danger waited above them. “Where are we going? What about my family? They were up there in the motorcade—”

“We can’t do anything to help them now. You have a responsibility as a member of the royal family not to endanger yourself, correct?”

“Yes.” Isabelle felt her shoulders droop with resignation. How many times had her parents reminded her of that fact? Every time she left the country—every time she’d ever tried to do anything on her own. Even her humanitarian work overseas was often hampered by her royal obligation to her own safety.

“Then you can’t go back up. We can only go forward.” He looked down at the dim light from her cell phone. “We should save the battery. Close that—we can walk in darkness.”

A protest rose to Isabelle’s lips, but she doubted it would do her any good to voice her fears. Levi was right about the light. There was nothing more for it to illumine—just the stone walls of the catacomb, and they could feel their way along those well enough. Surely the light would become more urgently necessary in the future. He was wise to advise her not to waste it.

She snapped the phone shut and the light went out, leaving them in total darkness again. “Explain, then. Who are you? And what just happened up there?”

Levi cupped her elbow with one hand. In the total silence of the tunnel she could hear his other hand skimming along the wall as they moved cautiously down the cobbled floor. The blue-eyed bodyguard began his story.

“My father works for a Christian organization called Sanctuary International. Their primary mission is to help religious refugees find asylum. Thirty-five years ago, when he was working in the Balkan region, he formed close ties with your father. Lydia is one of the few countries in the region where religious freedom is zealously defended, and your father proved to be an invaluable ally.

“During that time, my father and mother met and were married, but they returned to the United States before I was born. I received dual Lydian-U.S. citizenship through my parents, and though I was raised in the United States, I often spent summers visiting my grandparents in Lydia.”

Levi paused. “The wall curves away,” he murmured, “and I suspect it forks.”

Before he finished speaking Isabelle had her phone out, and its tiny light illuminated the two branching tunnels gaping open in endless darkness. The bodyguard glanced between them before nodding. “This way.” He didn’t hesitate to step forward down the right-hand branch.

“Why this way?”

“After two more turns we will be below the Sardis Cathedral. It should be safe to exit there.”

“How do you know the catacombs so well?” Isabelle closed her phone reluctantly, still suspicious of his motives in spite of his story.

“I’ve been studying them for the past six days.”

“Why?”

Levi seemed to struggle with how to answer her. Once again, Isabelle’s suspicions were raised. Was he really who he said he was? Did the history he told her really happen, or was he simply making it up to placate her until the rest of his nefarious plans could be accomplished?

His answer seemed to come in a roundabout way. “Our aid workers in the region have formed close ties with many Christians with diverse political ties. Six days ago, an informant delivered a coded message at a Sanctuary outpost on the Albanian border. The next morning his body was found floating in the Mursia River.”

Isabelle found that her steps had slowed as she listened closely to Levi’s explanation. “What did the coded message say?” She shivered a little as she stepped tentatively through the darkness, uncertain whether she really wanted to know the answer to her question.

Apology and regret filled Levi’s voice. “It contained instructions for an attack on the royal family.”

“Today’s attack?”

“Presumably. It did not give a date or time. That’s why I immediately replaced your usual bodyguard.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The message was supposed to be delivered to Alfred, the man who was scheduled to guard you today. He was apparently a member of this insurgent organization. The message contained instructions. As soon as the first explosion detonated, Alfred was supposed to kill you.”

TWO

Levi didn’t like sharing the details of the planned attack with Isabelle. He didn’t want to cause her any more distress than she’d already experienced. But because she didn’t trust him, he didn’t know how else to impress upon her the gravity of her circumstances. Whether she trusted him or not, he needed her to follow his every instruction. Their lives would depend on it.

Now the princess stumbled and Levi held her arm more firmly to steady her.

“Alfred?” Isabelle repeated, disbelief in her tone. “He’s been part of my guard for four years.”

“I know, and a member of the royal army for sixteen years before that. We have been unable to determine when he joined the insurgents.”

“Where is he now?” Isabelle asked. “I should hope he was arrested and questioned.”

“He was floating in the Mursia next to the man who brought us the message.”

“Yet the insurgents still went through with the attack? If they knew enough to kill those men, they had to have known the note was intercepted.”

Levi could only guess at what their original plans might have been. “Perhaps they thought the longer they waited, the more time we would have to prepare a defense.”

“But if my father knew about this, why did my family stay in Lydia? Why didn’t we leave the moment the message was intercepted?”

With his head bent a little closer to hers in the darkness, Levi wished he could study the face of the princess entrusted to his care. “Surely you know the answer to that question.”

A resigned sigh was Isabelle’s only indication of emotion. “My father would never leave the throne. It would signal to the insurgents that he was a coward.”

Levi nodded. “They would see it as an open door to walk through and take the country.”

“Then why weren’t my brother and sister and I at least sent away? Why were we all in the same motorcade?”

“The three of you were originally supposed to be riding in the same car,” Levi reminded her. “Your father refused to call off the state dinner for the same reason he would never run away from his throne.” Levi had begged the king to send his children away for their own safety, but he understood King Philip’s reasons for keeping them there. They had argued about it well into the night. Levi was still exhausted from missing sleep.

Now he answered the princess patiently. “Your father believed that, with the message intercepted, the insurgents would change their plans and call off their attack. He feared that if he tried to send you away, they would see it as a sign of weakness and instead attack with greater force. He thought this would be the best way to keep you safe.”

Isabelle trembled. Levi realized that, on top of all that had happened, the damp cold of the catacombs was probably getting to her. With only narrow straps instead of sleeves, her dress surely did little to keep her warm.

As her regal posture sagged under the weight of all she’d absorbed, Levi slid off his tuxedo jacket and nestled it around her shoulders. He, too, feared for her family and what may have happened to them. She had surely guessed their fate, and Levi had no reassurances to give her. There was really very little hope for the Royal House of Lydia.

“We should keep moving,” he said softly after her trembling had given way to sniffling. “If we can reach other Sanctuary team members, perhaps they will have good news about your family.”

“Maybe I should try calling them.”

Levi sucked in a breath.

“Why not?” Isabelle pulled back from him.

“We don’t know who would answer your call, and we can’t risk the wrong people finding out where you are. For the same reason, I have no intention of using my phone until we reach a safe location. If Alfred was working for the insurgents, anyone could be.” He urged her on. “The best thing we can do right now is get you out of here.”

The princess took several deep breaths but made no move to head forward.

“You still don’t trust me?” he asked.

“I trusted Alfred.”

Levi nodded. “Perhaps you are wise not to trust me.” Her long hair, which had been piled high in an artful arrangement for the state dinner, had come loose, and a thick strand brushed his hand. “Can you open the light?”

She clicked her phone open, and her wide brown eyes stared fearfully up at him in its thin glow. Gently he pushed the loose hair back from her eyes.

“Your hands were burned,” she accused him as his fingers passed through her line of vision.

“I hadn’t meant for you to notice,” he apologized. “There is nothing we can do for them here.”

The princess straightened, as though drawing from a well of courage only a royal could tap. “Then we must get to a first aid kit. Let’s hurry.”

Levi took her cue and turned them down the next tunnel, which would lead under the centuries-old Cathedral where many Lydian saints were buried. The church had been built upon the rumored burial place of the original Lydia, an early leader in the Christian church whose conversion by the Apostle Paul was detailed in the sixteenth chapter of the Book of Acts in the Bible. The nation of Lydia had been named for her house church, and the royal family, including Isabelle herself, could trace their roots back to Lydia’s family.

It was a reminder to Levi of the amazing lineage of the woman who held their only light as they walked through the darkness of the catacombs. Though he had long respected Isabelle from afar as he’d read about her humanitarian efforts as a princess, he was even more impressed with her in person. And she was even more beautiful than the newspaper photos he’d seen.

“Which way?” Isabelle asked when they arrived at the next fork in the tunnel.

It was a good question. Levi had studied hand-drawn maps of the tunnels, which were known only to a select few. Because King Philip had supplied the maps, Levi had assumed the whole royal family would be familiar with the layout of the catacombs. It surprised him that Isabelle was unaware of their very existence. Now he tried to recall the detailed twists and turns of the elaborate underground labyrinth.

The light from Isabelle’s phone dimmed. “Do you know which way it is?”

Finally able to picture he map in his head, Levi pulled her a little closer to him as they headed down the left-hand passageway. “This way, but let’s leave the light off if we can. We might need it more later.”

To his relief, Isabelle didn’t argue with him but shuffled along beside him as they made their way down the tunnel in dizzying darkness. He could only hope she would cooperate with him for as long as it might take to get her to safety. Their situation was difficult enough, and Levi desperately needed the mission to be successful.

Not only did he care about his mother’s home country and feel allegiance toward the Royal House of Lydia, but he also had a very personal reason why the mission could not fail. His father didn’t just work for Sanctuary International, he was its president. And he’d be retiring in another year. Everyone expected Nicolas Grenaldo to appoint one of his two sons to be president after him.

And that was just the trouble. Although Levi had spent four years in the Lydian army before going on to law school, he didn’t have any battle experience. He’d studied international law, thinking at the time it would give him the best possible background for leading an organization that helped people throughout the world. Too late he’d realized no amount of studying would earn him the respect and admiration of his peers within Sanctuary.

His little brother, Joe, however, had spent six years in the United States Marine Corps, followed by several successful and high-profile operations with Sanctuary. Joe had saved the lives of dozens of missionaries, political figures and refugees over the years.

Levi had saved no one. As the older brother, he should have been the natural choice to follow in his father’s footsteps. But as of right now, Joe was everyone’s favorite. Joe was a hero. Levi desperately needed this mission to go well if he wanted his father to see him as anything other than a scholar. And for that to happen, he’d have to have Isabelle’s cooperation.

The darkness was so complete it made his eyes hurt. Levi had almost begun to wonder if he’d missed the stairs when a gap in the wall left him grasping into the open air.

He stopped.

Isabelle snapped her light on just long enough to display a twisting set of stone stairs that curled upward and out of sight. Then she let the light die again before stepping forward onto the first stair.

“Wait,” Levi whispered, tugging her back. “We need to discuss our next step.”

As he pulled her back, she brushed near him, and this time, with her standing one step higher on the stone stairs, he felt her lose hair brush past his cheek and smelled her flowery fragrance, so different from the dank catacombs. He swallowed, refusing to allow himself to think about how close she was to him.

Levi had always known Isabelle was a beautiful woman, but he was in her life for a short time only, to fulfill a specific mission. He would behave with absolute decorum. She was, after all, a princess. And he’d been briefed privately by her father about the horrors of her failed engagement. Sympathy and respect stifled his otherwise-strong sense of attraction toward her.

She must have realized how close she’d gotten to him in the darkness because he felt her back away. He doubted she felt anything near the kind of attraction he did, but then, she’d already said she didn’t trust him. Perhaps it was best that way.

“What is your plan?” Isabelle asked.

He could feel the warmth of her breath on his cheek and realized she hadn’t backed too far away from him after all. Still holding her arm with one hand, he analyzed their options.

“We don’t know if the insurgents are aware of the catacombs or of the opening below the cathedral. I would assume not, but—” He hesitated.

“I would assume nothing, under the circumstances.”

Levi agreed. “We’ll make our way up the stairs in silence. I’ve never been through this way so I don’t know what we’ll find at the end.”

“Is it even passable?”

“Yes. Your father wouldn’t have allowed it to be marked as an exit if it wasn’t passable. But because we don’t know if it’s a sealed door or if your light will show—”

“I’ll keep my light off.”

“Good. Given the possibility of danger ahead, we can’t risk giving away our presence.”

“Extreme caution.” Isabelle concurred, and he could feel her head nod in the darkness.

Levi was acutely aware of the slight movement. She’d slowly allowed herself to lean closer to him. Did she realize how close to one another they now stood in the dark chamber? He tried not to think about his proximity to the princess.

The pressing danger provided excellent distraction. “We’ll proceed with extreme caution,” he echoed. “If at any point we encounter any person or anything that seems out of the ordinary, we’ll halt and assess the situation. If danger is apparent, we’ll retreat back the way we came.”

“And if we cannot retreat into the catacombs?” The princess tipped her head forward as she spoke, and Levi felt the softness of her hair come to rest near his jaw.

Levi didn’t feel he ought to push her away, yet the floral perfume she wore teased his nostrils. “Then God help us.”

Isabelle pulled back from him.

The cold air of her absence cleared his mind. He realized how his words must have sounded and rushed to explain. “We don’t know the size of the forces the insurgents have attacked with. If they take the cathedral and block our passage to the catacombs, then it would mean they’ve completely overwhelmed your father’s government, in which case I don’t know how we could possibly get you out of the country alive.”

“Out of the country?” Isabelle backed farther away from him this time. “You said my father didn’t want me leaving the country, that it would send the wrong message to the insurgents.”

“That was before the attack,” Levi corrected her. “You can’t expect to stay—”

“I will not leave!”

Levi’s hand flew out to cover her mouth. “Shh,” he hushed her, aware of how loudly her voice had echoed. She squirmed away from him. He hadn’t intended to clamp his hand over her royal mouth, but he couldn’t risk letting her voice give away their location when they didn’t know who might hear.

Cautiously he removed his hand.

Isabelle whispered angrily. “You said my father wished to avoid any sign of weakness—”

“They think you’re dead.” He tried to reach for her shoulder to pull her back so he could reason with her, but she batted him away. “Princess Isabelle.” He spoke her name with caution.

“The Royal House of Lydia is not dead. We live and we reign.”

Levi was reminded by the emotion in her words that she’d been raised with a profound sense of duty toward her people, an obligation of leadership that had been deeply ingrained since birth. It wasn’t in her to run away when her government was challenged. How could he make her understand that she had to do just that?

“Yes.” He spoke in the most soothing voice he could muster. “Yes, Lydia is ruled by your family, by the Royal House of Lydia.”

“I am not dead,” she choked.

He realized she was weeping. He didn’t blame her one bit. “You’re not dead,” he repeated, trying to think of what he could possibly say that wouldn’t make her more upset. What was there to say? It was likely the rest of her family had been killed. She had surely guessed that much already. As soon as the insurgent forces realized she had escaped, they’d come looking for her. But he couldn’t tell her that—not now—so he tried to reassure her as best he could.

“You’re not dead, Princess. You’re alive, and I will do everything in my power to keep you alive. But right now we don’t know what the situation is out there. If the insurgents have taken control of the city—”

“No!” Isabelle moved to push past him again. “No, they cannot take the city.” She turned as though she was going to stomp right up the stairs and demand to have rule returned to her.

“Isabelle.” He pulled her back against him and this time held her tight so she couldn’t do anything rash. He pressed his mouth near her ear as he had in the car and spoke calmly but forcefully. “The insurgents want you dead. As long as they think they have already killed you, they won’t come looking for you. If they learn you’re really alive, they’ll hunt you down. Your only hope for survival is to stay out of sight and get out of Lydia as quickly as possible—before they have time to search for your dead body and wonder why they can’t find it.”

“But the Royal House of Lydia has never given over control of the country. It is my royal duty—”

“It’s your duty to stay alive.” As he held her tightly, he felt some of the fight leave her. “You can’t reclaim the throne if you’re dead. If you let me get you out of here, we can negotiate your rightful return to the throne.”

“How can I run from my people like a coward?”

“Your only other option is to face near-certain death. Who will defend your people then?”

He felt her war with that decision as he held her, his arms still firmly rooting her in place lest she suddenly take off up the stairs.

Finally she told him in a determined voice, “I still don’t trust you.”

“It doesn’t matter if you trust me. All I ask is that you allow me to protect you.”

A huff erupted from her nose, and her chin lifted off from where it had come to rest on his shoulder. “Have I made it that difficult for you?”

“You did seem determined to stay in the car long enough for the insurgents to hit it.”

“If you would have told me about the catacombs earlier—”

“I didn’t know you didn’t know,” he defended. He relaxed his hold enough to let her move half an arm’s length away but no farther. He still didn’t trust her any more than she trusted him. “There may be moments up ahead when I don’t have time to explain everything. Whether you trust me or not, you need to follow my lead. If I have to stop and argue with you at every turn, it will give the insurgents an unfair advantage. I fear we must move very quickly.”

Her shoulders rose and fell under his hands as she took a deep breath. “Up the stairs in darkness, through the cathedral and then what?”

“The U.S. Embassy is across the street. They should be able to help us get out of the country.”

Isabelle was silent. Levi could tell she was weighing her response. Based on the background information he’d been given, he could guess at what might be the cause of her silence.

“I know you don’t care for the American ambassador,” Levi began.

“Stephanos Valli remains in this country solely to retain the good will of the American government. If it were up to me, he would never be allowed to set foot in Lydia again.” Her words seethed with barely repressed anger.

“We need the Americans to help us get you out of the country alive. If Valli was headed to the state dinner, it’s likely he won’t be anywhere near the embassy. His staff can get us out of the country.” Levi had never met Stephanos Valli, but he understood that the American ambassador had Lydian ancestry and ties to the most powerful people in their area of the Mediterranean. Valli had negotiated the engagement of the princess to one of those people, a billionaire businessman named Tyrone Spiteri. The engagement had ended in scandal. Levi had never been told the details, but he understood Isabelle’s bitterness toward the ambassador for his hand in such an embarrassing experience.

And Isabelle obviously wasn’t ready to risk an encounter with Valli, though it had been two years since her engagement to Tyrone Spiteri had ended. “I have many friends who could possibly help us,” she suggested.

“Do you know them better than you knew Alfred?”

She tensed, and Levi could feel her head shaking regretfully in the darkness.

“I suppose,” she whispered softly, “we can’t trust anyone because we can’t be sure of whose side they’re on.”

“The Americans should be trustworthy.”

“Perhaps.” For a moment she sounded overwhelmed, but she seemed to draw quickly from that royal well of strength. “Let’s get moving then. I still intend to find a first aid kit if we can.”

Levi was impressed with how quickly she made up her mind and how silently she made her way up the stairs. He counted seven, eight, nine steps before his head knocked into something solid.

“Stop,” he whispered quietly as a breath while moving to shield her head.

His burned fingers were momentarily squeezed between her high-piled hair and the obstruction. Tears sprang to his eyes but he stifled an exclamation. Finding her ear beside him, he whispered, “There’s an obstruction above us. It may be a trap door. I’m going to try to lift up.”

He eased his shoulders up against it, but even when he began to apply greater force, nothing budged.

“Does it have a latch of some sort?” Isabelle whispered back. He could feel her hands skirt past him in the darkness, and a moment later he heard a soft click. “Try it now,” she whispered.

This time when Levi applied pressure upward, the ceiling moved silently, though the space above seemed to be just as dark as the tunnel they’d come from. With only a slight rustle from her evening gown, Isabelle slid through the opening, and Levi followed after her, closing the door softly after they were both out.

Isabelle’s hand traveled up his arm, and he felt her fingers tug on his earlobe. At her prompt he leaned down and she whispered silently into his ear. “Should I try my light?”

Feeling for her hands, he covered the light, then nodded. “Go ahead.”

The light came on and slowly he allowed more of its miniscule glow to shine. The two of them looked around at the statues and marble plaques, their blank-eyed stone faces deeply shadowed.

Isabelle shivered at the sight of the stone faces, whose forms hid the ancient bones of her ancestors. “The mausoleum,” she whispered. They’d toured it once when she was very young, but no one had been buried under the cathedral in several generations, so she’d had no cause to visit it again. Her sole impression was that it was a frightening place cluttered with dead upon dead, which seemed to go on forever.

But then, she’d been only about eight years old when she’d made that tour. Surely it wouldn’t be so frightening now that she was twenty-four.

Her light dimmed, and she snapped the phone shut again. Although complete darkness shrouded everything from her sight, she was acutely aware of the looming stone figures and tried not to imagine their blank eyes staring back at her through the darkness. She had to remember that the insurgent threat against her was far more real than her fears of the dark and the dead.

“Do you know your way around in here?” Levi asked in a hushed whisper.

“No. Do you?”

“I’ve never been down here before.”

“I visited once, but it was a long time ago. All I really remember is … “ The memories stumbled through her mind, tripping over themselves like the patent-leather shoes she and her sister had worn as they traveled hand-in-hand through the tour, nearly running in the end, chased by fear, wanting only to find the sunlight. She stepped instinctively closer to Levi, the only human figure in the room who lived and breathed. “I didn’t like it.”

“Do you know which way we should go?”

Isabelle searched the long-buried memory, sorting through the fright to find some tidbit that could help them. “We came in through the back of the church and came out at the front. The mausoleum runs the length of the cathedral, with family crypts branching off on either side.” She pulled his tuxedo jacket more tightly around her. “Most of these bones are more than a thousand years old. No was has been buried here in generations.”

“So we should try to find the central hallway?”

“That much shouldn’t be difficult. Then we go one way or the other. The trick will be not to get sidetracked, or we could end up wandering around here—” Her voice broke off as she heard a distant boom, the first sound to penetrate the deathly stillness.

“The trick will be to avoid detection.” Levi’s words were spoken in a near-silent breath by her ear.

Isabelle also tensed, listening to the sound Levi had obviously heard. Distantly, echoes reverberated through the still air. Footsteps? And muffled voices.

“Search every corner.” The command rose above the sound of footsteps—many sets of footsteps. Someone was in the mausoleum looking for them!

Isabelle grabbed Levi’s arm and whispered, “What are we going to do now?”

“The footsteps are all coming from the same direction. We need to run the other way.”

Isabelle raised her hand to open her phone again and light their way, but Levi’s fingers quickly closed over hers.

“No. No light.”

“I can’t see where I’m going.” Isabelle protested in near-silence as Levi tugged her along beside him.

“No light,” Levi repeated. “It will lead them straight to us.”

They shuffled forward, and Isabelle couldn’t help but wonder if they weren’t leaving a trail of footprints for their pursuers to follow. But tourist groups went through the mausoleum several times a week, if not several times a day. Hopefully their footprints would blend in.

For a few moments they bumped along in darkness, here and again meeting the rounded sides of cold stone statues or the walls themselves. Then Isabelle’s peering eyes were shocked as the bulbs that ran along the central hallway illuminated.

“They’ve turned the lights on,” she whispered softly, her words nearly drowned by the echoes of boots on stone floor and the muffled shouts of the approaching men.

Because the branching crypts weren’t lighted, she turned toward the light of the central hallway.

Levi pulled back on her arm. “They’ll see you.”

“But we’re sitting ducks in here. There’s no way out of this chamber unless we get to the main hallway.”

Already the boom of footsteps pounded closer. She didn’t know how thoroughly the men were searching the sprawling chambers, but they were closing in on them.

“We’ll have to hide.”

Isabelle looked around. The life-size statues were almost big enough to hide behind.

Almost.

“Where?”

Levi’s fingers grasped the edge of one of the many marble slabs that rested on the raised ledges of the burial chambers. Isabelle watched as he slid back the solid stone slab.

“In here.”

The boom of footsteps echoed nearer.

“No.” Isabelle shook her head. “Not with the bones.”

Levi pulled an object from the vault. “They’re not bones.” He held out an ancient piece of wood for her to see.

“It’s a shuttle,” Isabelle realized. She recalled from her long-ago tour that the burial chambers were interspersed with vaults containing items important to the deceased. Since weaving and textile work had long been the basis for the Lydian economy, many weavers treasured their looms and shuttles—even to the point of being buried with the objects that had been an integral part of their livelihood.

Realizing the chamber Levi had opened didn’t hold any bones, she relented to hiding inside. Levi guided her feet-first through the opening.

“Hurry!” he encouraged her as the echoing footfalls drew closer.

“Did you hear that?” A deep voice echoed down the corridor.

“This way!”

The boom of boots on stone grew louder and faster as the men hurried toward them.

With a repentant gulp, Isabelle ducked into the hole, regretting that her hesitation had wasted precious seconds.

“Up ahead!” the men’s voices called, nearer this time. Almost upon them.

Isabelle shuffled her head around so she could look out of the opening. Levi’s face flashed across her line of vision. “Are you coming in?” she whispered.

“No time,” he mouthed, shoving the stone slab nearly shut, leaving her with just a slice of light before he spun around.

THREE

Levi ducked instinctively as the bullet ricocheted through the stone chamber. He gripped the shuttle he’d pulled from the chamber, its ancient wood petrified with age. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it in the enclosed space it would be far more useful to him than the gun in his holster.

“Don’t discharge your weapons inside the mausoleum!” The commanding voice Levi had heard earlier now sounded like it was just around the next corner. “The bullets could bounce back and hit one of us.”

The sound of footsteps drew nearer and flashlight beams danced through the relative darkness of the side chamber. Levi leapt back, hiding in the shadow of a large statue nearest the opening of the chamber on the side from which the voices approached.

He gripped the shuttle as the footsteps boomed nearer.

The instant a shadow fell across the opening Levi leapt forward and struck with the petrified rod. The man crumpled to the floor with a hollow groan.

“What—” The next soldier stepped forward, and Levi hit him, a glancing blow across the back of the head, which appeared to stun him only slightly. He grimaced and gathered himself, but Levi caught him under the jaw with his other fist. He slumped over his fallen comrade.

Two down. How many more to go?

With a shout, another solider leapt over the two unconscious figures. Levi swung with the shuttle, but the man’s hand clamped his wrist. A high round kick cleared the two motionless men below them. He caught his attacker under the ribs.

He heard the air rush from the man’s lungs as the soldier leaned forward, his grip easing on Levi’s wrist.

Jerking his arm free, Levi caught the man in the back of his head before he straightened.

Just in time.

The soldier went down as another leaped forward. At the rate he was going, Levi would soon have the entrance to the side chamber blocked by the unconscious bodies of his attackers. This soldier’s feet hadn’t yet hit the floor when Levi caught him under the chin with a grunt, with the same motion heaving his body onto the growing pile.

He panted, trying to catch his breath. His singed hands stung. How many more soldiers were there? How many more could he hold off?

The crackle of a radio told him someone was about to give away his position.

Vaulting the heap of men, Levi knocked the radio from the man’s hand before the soldier could call in reinforcements. Grabbing his head by the helmet, Levi rammed the man face-first into his knee.

Three soldiers were still standing.

The nearest one spun sideways, clipping Levi in a blow to the chest.

Levi grasped the shuttle with both hands and brought it down on the man’s head.

The soldier shuddered and went down.

“Alec?” The next guy looked at him in confusion.

Levi didn’t recognize the young man. “Sorry,” Levi apologized as he slugged the soldier across the jaw.

Before he had time to pull his arm back, the next man was on top of him, knocking him flat. Levi just managed to catch himself enough to avoid hitting his head too hard against the stone floor, but he wasn’t quick enough to avoid the blow aimed at the side of his head.

Stars flashed across his field of vision, obliterating all else. Levi shoved back, trying to push the man off of him, to roll sideways, anything. But he was exhausted from what had already been a long fight against overwhelming odds, and this attacker was enormous.

The man on top of him had every advantage.

Levi braced himself and prayed.

Suddenly the man shuddered, falling on top of him.

With a whoosh, the weight of the oversize soldier knocked what remained of Levi’s breath from his lungs.

He groaned as he attempted to heave the deadweight figure off of him.

A small, neatly manicured hand appeared, hefting the man by the shoulder, adding just enough lift to allow Levi to push the man off to the side. As his vision cleared, Levi looked up to find Princess Isabelle smiling down at him.

“How did you—?” he started to ask.

She held up another shuttle like a royal scepter. “There were two of these.”

Levi moaned and sat up. “But how did you get the stone rolled back from the inside?”

Motioning with the shuttle, Isabelle imitated how she’d levered the shuttle through the opening to move back the stone. “Simple tools,” she said, glancing back at the heap of men behind her as a groan rumbled from the bottom of the pile. “We should get out of here.”

“Sure.” Levi leapt up and, with a quick kick in the direction from which the groan had come, muttered, “That should keep him quiet.” He plucked up the radio that had flown free when he’d knocked out the man who was trying to use it. “Let’s go before anyone else realizes what just happened.”

Isabelle hesitated. “Do we want to take their guns? We don’t want these guys to be armed when they wake up—especially if it takes us a while to get out of here.”

Although he didn’t want to waste the time it would take to do so, Levi had to admit Isabelle’s idea was a good one. The men could very well awaken before he got the princess through the cathedral and safely across the street to the American Embassy. “Okay, but let’s be quick about it.”

Levi grabbed the guns, stuffing several of them into the vault where Isabelle had hidden, before closing the stone seal. He then hurried to empty the soldiers’ pockets of anything that might be useful before slinging an assault rifle over his shoulder.

Isabelle grabbed a flashlight from one of the prone figures. “These men are Lydian soldiers. I might have thought they were after me to protect me if they hadn’t fired a shot at us.” Her features clouded. The soldiers had betrayed their vow to protect the royal family.

But why?

Much as he didn’t want to think about it, he knew the question needed to be voiced. “Whose orders were they following?”

Concern filled Isabelle’s face. “As king, my father is the head of the Lydian military, but if any of the commanders had turned—” Her words broke off, the situation clearly catching up to her.

“Someone issued a command for these soldiers to come down here looking for us.”

“Do you think they knew who they were looking for? Every soldier takes a vow upon enlistment to serve and protect the royal family. They must not have known they’d been sent after me.”

Levi sensed her struggle as she considered what the presence of the soldiers meant. Did the soldiers know who they’d been sent after? He didn’t have time to sort it out.

“We need to get moving. These men could wake up any moment.”

With the bright lights shining down from the hallway ceiling above them, they ran the length of the hall, finding the door to the stairs still open where the soldiers had entered.

“Do you think it’s safe?” Isabelle asked in a breathless voice.

Levi listened carefully but heard no sound above them. “I imagine the men were dispersed in teams to search the area surrounding the ambush. The cathedral is only about three blocks from where the motorcade stopped. It will take them a while to canvass the area. I doubt anyone will come back to this building until they realize our men downstairs haven’t checked in.”

“I hate to think they’d be organized enough to make that realization very quickly.” Isabelle’s intelligent eyes looked up at him intently, her loose lock of hair tumbling down and brushing his hand again. He doubted she was even aware of it, yet it did terrible things to his focus.

Her determined expression took his breath away. He knew she was shaken by all that had happened—she’d wept not very long ago—but here she was, already dealing capably with the situation. And she’d saved his life with that shuttle.

He swallowed, struggling to think what to say next. What had they been talking about? The woman was far too beautiful. As soon as he got her to safety he’d hand her off to someone else. She was difficult to work with—for all the wrong reasons.

Before he could gather his scattered thoughts, Isabelle surprised him by scooping up one of his singed hands into her much smaller fingers.

“Before we go any farther, we should pray,” she said softly, pinching her eyes shut and bowing her head without waiting for a response from him.

“Lord God, Protector of Lydia, Sovereign of our Nation and Lord of the Universe.” In her royal way, she began with God’s majestic titles before pleading for protection—not just for them, but for the rest of her family. “Wherever my parents and siblings are, I know that You are with them. In Your infinite mercy, watch over them. Keep us all safe until You bring us together once again. Amen.”

Levi also offered an amen and half expected Isabelle to linger after her prayer, but she didn’t even look at him before she headed through the doorway. It took Levi another second before he realized he would have to hurry to keep up with the woman he’d been hired to protect.

Isabelle proceeded as quickly as she dared up the stone steps to the main back hall of the cathedral. She knew the way to the front entrance, having worshipped regularly at the ancient church since she was an infant. Not only did she want to make up for the time they’d lost already, but she felt the need to stay ahead of Levi. He’d begun to make her feel uncomfortable.

She was used to having bodyguards. They’d gone everywhere with her all her life. They were a part of her life.

But she’d never prayed with one before, never clung to one like she’d held on tight to Levi as she’d fought him, cowered in fear with him and wept with him.

Sure, she was plenty used to bodyguards. But she wasn’t remotely used to getting that close to a man—any man. The very thought made her recall the final terrified minutes of her failed engagement. Tyrone’s face popped into her mind—the face of the man she’d wanted so much to love, the man who had only wanted to take advantage of her.

The hard-learned lesson dug itself a little deeper into her heart. She hadn’t even suspected Tyrone’s true motives until it had almost been too late. Tyrone had been in love with royal power. He’d wanted to marry her for the prestige it would give him.

Her desire to be loved had blinded her so much that she’d almost let him get away with his evil plans. Almost. She would never allow herself to make the same mistake again. She was a princess. Any man who pretended to love her was likely only in love with her royal title. Tyrone hadn’t even taken the time to get to know her.

And she’d learned better than to waste her time chasing after love. She shrugged off the unfamiliar feeling of closeness that praying with Levi had caused her to feel. It meant nothing. As soon as she got away from the insurgent threat, she’d figure out how to get away from Levi, too.

They made their way quickly down the ancient stone hallway, which was slightly more worn than the floor of the chambers below but otherwise remarkably similar. Light from the setting sun streamed in through the beveled panes of the antique windows, prisms of vibrant colors splashing them as they ran past.

They reached the front doors, and both of them crouched back against the solid wood, peeking through the clear panes to the scene outside.

The cobbled street and limestone walls looked innocent, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened in Sardis that day.

Isabelle watched as Levi’s hand settled over the door latch.

“Do you think it’s safe?” she asked, watching his bearded face carefully.

He pulled his sunglasses from the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket as she handed the garment back to him. It would be warm outside. “Safer than in here. The front door of the embassy is less than one hundred meters from where we stand. We’ll have to get down the cathedral stairs and up the steps of the Embassy, but we should be able to do it in well under a minute, maybe even thirty seconds if we hurry. That’s not long for us to be out in the open.”

Isabelle swallowed. “Front door to front door then?”

“That seems like the most expedient route.” The mirrored lenses of his sunglasses stayed trained on her face as he slipped on his jacket. “You don’t like the plan?”

He could read her that easily? “I don’t like the idea of entering Stephanos Valli’s turf, even if he’s not there.” Although three years had passed since Valli had engineered her engagement to Tyrone Spiteri, and two years had gone by since the horrid ending of that engagement, the mere thought of seeing the two-faced ambassador brought her fears and anger back to the surface.

Levi extended one singed hand toward her arm. “I won’t let Valli get near you,” he promised.

Could it possibly be that simple? Isabelle looked down at the hand whose mere contact with her arm imparted a surprising level of comfort. “We never found any burn ointment for your hands,” she realized with regret.

“It’s okay. I’ve made it this far.” His hand stayed still on her arm, and Isabelle wished she could see his eyes behind his sunglasses or his face behind the dark outline of his beard. He leaned a little closer. “We should get going. Are you ready?”

Isabelle nodded, clinging to Levi’s promise not to let Valli near her. As long as she knew she wouldn’t have to face that awful man, they could get to the Embassy and be safe. Finally.

Maybe then she could learn what had become of her parents and siblings. At least she wouldn’t have to fear for her life anymore. And she could get away from Levi, whose presence had started making her uncomfortable for all sorts of new reasons, mostly because he’d gotten so close to her.

She straightened and mentally prepared herself for the dash across the street. “Let’s go.”

“On three,” Levi announced, his grip tightening on the door latch. “One, two—” The door swung wide and the two of them burst out, darting in a dead sprint down the steps.

Levi kept one hand on her arm and one hand on the assault rifle he’d lifted from the soldiers. Her heeled pumps offered little in the way of traction, so Isabelle felt grateful to know Levi was ready to catch her if she slipped.

They crossed the street in six strides and Isabelle hoisted the floor-length skirt of her gown as they vaulted the Embassy stairs by twos and threes. Levi swung open the front door and they stepped inside onto the glossy marble floor.

Isabelle looked up, expecting to see the usual uniformed guards that protected the embassy. Instead, Lydian soldiers guarded the entrance. The one nearest her smiled broadly.

“Princess Isabelle, what a pleasant surprise.” He and the soldier next to him stepped forward, reaching for their guns. “If you’ll hand us your weapons, we’ll personally escort you in.”

“We’ll keep them,” Levi said, his presence close behind her reassuring.

Something was wrong. She could feel it. There shouldn’t have been Lydian soldiers guarding the door. There shouldn’t have been Lydian soldiers in the building at all. Everything felt wrong. Scurrying soldiers stopped as they passed in the hall. What were Lydian soldiers doing in the American Embassy?

Another man in uniform approached them. “You’ve captured the princess?” he called to his comrades. “Valli will be delighted.”

No! Terror squeezed Isabelle’s heart as the two guards lunged toward them, their hands stretched out to take their guns.

Levi spun around her, stiff-arming the men in the face with the butt of his rifle before sweeping his other arm around her waist and scooping her up as he shoved his way back through the door. Out of the corner of her eye, Isabelle saw the other officers rushing toward them, pulling out their guns. The heavy doors slammed shut behind them.

Instead of heading back down the stairs and across the open street, Levi surprised her by scooting to the side of the marble landing and leaping over the balustrade into the bushes, taking her with him.

Prickly branches grabbed at her dress as she fell, but the moment her feet hit the firm earth, the branches settled above their heads. Levi shuffled sideways under the cover of the lush Mediterranean foliage.

Above them on the landing she could hear the doors bang open and soldiers shouting, wondering aloud where they’d gone. “Down!” Levi whispered, ushering her toward a window well deep behind the shadows of the landscaping.

Isabelle gulped a breath and jumped. Levi landed silently beside her and immediately grabbed the window by its frame.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, more than aware that the Embassy building was crawling with Lydian soldiers, who were apparently reporting to Valli. “We’re breaking back in?”

“Shh.” Levi pulled the aging window frame from the time-warped wood. “You said you’d trust me.”

A blur of responses passed through her mind, most of them involving their near capture moments before, but she bit her tongue and ducked, mindful of the darkness and the cobwebs. The stone room was similar to those in the basement of the cathedral, but instead of bones, it housed cluttered piles of old furniture, discarded desks and slumping stacks of boxes. Levi slid through the window and landed beside her, reaching back up and pulling the wood-framed glass into place behind them.

“Where are we?” She pulled his ear as close to her lips as she could so she wouldn’t have to speak above the sound of a breath.

“The basement of the Embassy.”

“You brought me straight into the hornets’ nest?”

“I’m keeping you alive.” He raised the assault rifle in front of his face, covering them as he moved toward the door. “Everyone is outside looking for us.”

“So where are we going?”

“The last place they’re going to look.”

His words were ominous, and Isabelle swallowed, following him down the dark hallway. Unlike the underground mausoleum below the cathedral, the Embassy basement sat at garden level, and the dying sunlight filtered through windows, giving them just enough illumination to find their way through the cluttered space.

They reached a staircase that bent even farther downward, another level below the earth. Isabelle swallowed, her heart thudding in fear. “Do you seriously know where you’re going?”

“Of course I do.”

“Where?”

“The dungeon.” He pulled her close beside him as he took the first step downward.

Isabelle followed, not so much because she trusted him but because she knew for certain, thanks to the comment of the soldier above them, that Valli wanted her captured. If Levi could prevent that from happening, she’d follow him anywhere, even into a dungeon.

“I just want you to know,” she whispered, pulling instinctively closer to him as the filtered light faded to utter darkness, “that I have no intention of hiding in another crypt. That was the most terrifying thing that’s happened to me since—” She broke off, thinking.

“Since the soldiers tried to take you to Valli?”

“That was afterward.”

“You’ve had quite a day.” He pulled out the small flashlight he’d taken from the soldiers. Its beam cut through the darkness, landing on ancient chains that dripped from the walls. Isabelle tried not to think about the prisoners who’d been shackled inside the dungeon over the years.

“So where are we going?” She couldn’t hear any soldiers following them and so assumed it was okay to speak in a normal whisper. It made the darkness feel slightly less oppressive that way.

“Back into the catacombs. From there we can get just about anywhere.”

“There’s an entrance to the catacombs under the Embassy? Why didn’t we come up this way earlier?”

Levi cleared his throat.

Was he buying time before answering? Isabelle wasn’t sure, but she didn’t like it. Why had he risked their flight across the street if they could have come up through the Embassy?

When Levi finally spoke, his words were less than encouraging. “There’s not really an entrance to the catacombs under the Embassy. According to the hand-drawn maps I studied, there used to be one, but it was walled over to prevent the catacombs from being accidentally discovered by the Americans.” He reached the back corner of the dungeon and stopped, his light shining against the formidable bricks of the cold stone wall.

Isabelle shuddered, acutely aware of the fix they’d gotten themselves into. The lines of mortar that ran between the stones were dark gray throughout most of the subterranean room, but in the space where Levi shined his light, the mortar looked paler. Fresher. “So what are we supposed to do? Dig our way out?”

“Hold this.” Levi handed her the flashlight. “Stand back.”

Isabelle obeyed, hoping that whatever Levi was going to do wouldn’t take long. What if the soldiers looked behind the bushes and realized they’d come back in through the window? They’d catch up to them quickly if that was the case.

Levi ran his hands along the seams between the large stone bricks. A few grains of mortar crumbled out from between the seams, and he pulled a tool from his pocket, chiseling away at a seam between the stones. Mortar fell like dust. Several hacking motions later, Levi stood back, a satisfied look on his face.

“I need something big and heavy,” he murmured, looking around.

“What for?”

“To use as a battering ram.”

“You can’t possibly expect to force your way through a stone wall.”

“It’s a false wall,” Levi corrected her. “I could probably kick it in, but I don’t want to risk an injury.”

While he spoke, Isabelle looked around them at the deep underground prison. Like many of the buildings in the millennia-old city, the Embassy had been rebuilt and refurbished many times over the centuries, and discarded building materials cluttered the room. “Here’s a beam,” she offered, pointing with the flashlight Levi had handed her.

“Good work.” Levi snatched it up, hefted the weight of it in his hands and balanced it on his shoulder. “Stand back.”

Isabelle did so. She wasn’t nearly as sure of Levi’s plan as he seemed to be, and she feared that his efforts might bring the ceiling crumbling down on top of them or, at the very least, alert the soldiers to their presence.

The thick end of the old wood thudded against the stones as Levi pummeled it a few times. Then he appeared to brace himself, took several steps back and came at the wall at a run.

“Augh!” Levi exclaimed as the beam buried itself deep in the stones and he stumbled from the impact.

“Shh!” Isabelle hurried to his side. “Are you all right?”

The bodyguard looked stunned as he eased himself to his feet. “I’m fine,” he said, though he didn’t sound fine. He tugged at the beam and the stones shifted, crumbling away to reveal a round hole half a meter in diameter. The dust settled, exposing utter blackness beyond.

Isabelle shuddered. “Do you think the soldiers won’t notice the hole and guess where we’ve gone?”

Levi pulled off his sunglasses as he turned to face her. His blue eyes were piercing in the silvery beam from the flashlight. “Your father’s generals know about the catacombs,” he stated bluntly. “They were there when your father shared the maps with me. If Lydian soldiers are answering to Valli, he must have at least one general under his thumb somehow. This tells him nothing he doesn’t already know.” He reached for her hand. “Would you like to go first?”

Although the hole hardly seemed large enough to squeeze through, Isabelle realized they didn’t have time to enlarge it. And the fact that Valli likely knew about the catacombs made their flight that much more urgent.

Reluctantly, Isabelle placed her hand in Levi’s and climbed over the pile of rubble to peer into the darkness of the hole. “You do recall that we left several soldiers in the mausoleum, don’t you?”

“I’m sure they’ve left by now.” Levi shined his flashlight into the darkness beyond. “It’s less than a meter to the floor. We should hurry.”

Realizing he was right, Isabelle hoisted the skirt of her evening gown just high enough to permit her to step through the hole. Her feet found the floor beyond and she secured decent footing among the jumbled stones. As soon as Levi was through she reached for the jacket he wore.

“I’m cold.” Even her voice shivered.

Levi pulled off the tuxedo jacket and placed it around her shoulders. “I should have given it to you sooner. I don’t need it.” His white cotton shirt rose and fell against his muscular chest as he sucked in deep breaths, obviously still winded from the exertion of breaking through the wall.

Slipping her arms through the sleeves, Isabelle turned away from Levi and tried not to think about how indebted she was to the handsome bodyguard for all he’d done on her behalf that evening. Instead she focused on the path ahead.

Isabelle knew they didn’t have much ground to cover because the Embassy was so close to the cathedral. They rounded a corner and found themselves back at the staircase that led up to the mausoleum. The climb that had been so frightening the first time now felt familiar, although Isabelle knew they had just as much to fear—possibly more so now that the soldiers knew she was alive. When they lifted the opening above, artificial light continued to shine down brightly from the central hall.

Levi paused. “Do you hear anything?” he asked after some silence.

“Nothing.”

“Then let’s go.”

They clambered through the hole and darted down the hall. Isabelle saw no sign of the soldiers they’d left behind less than an hour before. Relieved that the men weren’t still there, Isabelle nonetheless wondered where they might have gone. Her fingers tightened around Levi’s arm, and her steps slowed.

“We need to hurry,” he reminded her.

She shook her head. “Hurry where? You said yourself this is the last place they’d likely look for us. If we go running upstairs we could be captured.”

The dark line of Levi’s beard flexed as he clenched his jaw. He seemed to weigh her words carefully before he spoke. “The soldiers have already checked the cathedral—I have no doubt about that. They’ll most likely assume we’ve fled the area. They’ll widen the perimeter of their search area before they recheck where they’ve already been.”

“Do you think so?”

His blue eyes hardened. “Whoever’s behind this insurgent uprising, they seem to have gained control of the Lydian military. That means Lydian commanders following Lydian protocol.”

Isabelle recalled his earlier insinuation that he’d served in the Lydian military. Although she wanted to question him about it, there simply wasn’t time. She followed him down the hallway toward the steps that led up to the cathedral. “How long do you think we’ll have before they circle back and check the cathedral again?”

“It depends on how organized they are. They’ve just pulled off a major ambush so I’d like to believe they won’t be too methodical about their search just yet. We might have an hour, maybe several hours. We still need to move quickly.”

“And where are we moving to? Do you still think you can get me out of the country?”

A smile twitched in the corner of Levi’s eyes. “Now you want out of the country?”

He looked far too pleased with her change of priorities, but Isabelle refused to be distracted from her goal of reaching safety. “If Stephanos Valli is working with the insurgent forces, then yes, I want to get as far from here as I possibly can.”

“Then we’ll need help.” Levi led her up the stairs to the back hallway of the cathedral, where the stone floors gave way to Persian rugs, softening their footfalls. “One of the deacons at the Cathedral is a former Sanctuary International agent. If he’s here—if we can find him before anyone else recognizes you—perhaps he can help us get to out of the country. The Sanctuary International headquarters are in New York City. We’ll be safest there.”

Isabelle nodded. “What does this former agent look like?”

“I don’t know,” Levi admitted. “We’ve never met, but your father mentioned his name in passing—”

“What’s his name, then?”

“Dan? Don? Dom?”

“Dom Procopio?”

“Yes.” Levi snapped his fingers. “I think that’s it.”

“Dom Procopio is a deacon and a friend of my father,” Isabelle offered cautiously. They’d made their way down the richly inlaid hall, and now the doors to the deacons’ offices appeared in front of Isabelle as she turned the corner. The name Dom Procopio was etched into the placard on the third door, and Isabelle grasped the doorknob with her right hand.

Levi’s calloused fingers covered hers. “Careful,” he cautioned her, suddenly so close that she could feel his warmth still the goose bumps on her arm. “We don’t know what we’ll find on the other side of that door.”

Isabelle swallowed but didn’t dare turn around to meet his eyes. She’d spent too much time getting close to Levi already. Needing to put some space between them, she cautiously cracked the door open just far enough to allow her to see inside the room.

Dom Procopio sat bound to his desk chair, a thick gag stuffed into his mouth.

Isabelle wondered if he was even still alive.

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