Chapter 13 - Blood on the Rails
Elena reacted on pure instinct. She grabbed a heavy ceramic vase from the hallway console and hurled it with pinpoint accuracy, shattering it across Victoria’s forearm just as the gun discharged.
The bullet tore into the doorframe an inch from Julian’s ear. Julian didn’t waste the second chance; he drove his elbow into Victoria’s jaw, knocking her unconscious onto the hardwood floor.
“Titan! On me!” Elena commanded.
The mastiff tore down the hallway, leaving the incapacitated guards behind, and bounded onto the iron fire escape behind them. They scrambled down the metal rungs into the narrow alleyway below just as sirens began wailing in the distance.
“Station,” Julian panted, his fresh stitches tearing, dark crimson seeping through his linen shirt once more. “We take the evening express to Geneva. Victoria’s team was the advance squad. The rest of the Council will converge on the Swiss border.”
They abandoned the alleyway, melting into the bustling crowds of Lisbon’s tourist district. By nightfall, they were locked inside a private sleeper compartment on the overnight express speeding through the Spanish countryside toward the Alps.
Titan lay curled on the narrow floor, his head resting heavily against Elena’s boots. Julian sat on the lower bunk, wrapping a fresh roll of gauze tightly around his abdomen, his teeth gritted in silent agony.
“You hit your own cousin,” Elena said softly, watching his hands shake as he tied off the bandage.
“Victoria isn't family,” Julian replied, staring out the window into the pitch-black night. “She was the architect of your father’s downfall. She brokered the deal with the European syndicates to carve up the Vance assets. Marcus discovered the paper trail, and that’s why she tried to incinerate him.”
Elena pulled the hollow key from her pocket, turning it over in the dim amber light of the compartment. “My father is waiting at the station in Geneva. What happens when we hand him this ledger, Julian? Does the killing stop?”
Julian looked at her, his eyes hollowed by shadows and blood loss. “In our family, Elena, the killing never stops. It just changes hands.”
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The train suddenly screeched, sparks flying violently from the tracks beneath them. The emergency brakes engaged with a violent jolt, throwing Elena forward onto the floor.
Outside the compartment window, illuminated by the train’s exterior lights, three black helicopters hovered just above the tree line, searchlights pinning the stopped train in blinding beams of white light.
