Ekaterina Read Online Free PDF
Author: Susan May Warren
She stumbled along, wondering how she’d managed to be apprehended twice in one day. Thankfully, the key was safely thumping against her chest instead of locked along with her bag and camera in the monastery coat-and-camera check.
She wondered if they had good food in prison. Her stomach was starting to clench.
The monk marched her into another unnamed building, down a hall, and into a wide, barren office. Two squeaky clean, tall windows peered out across a graveyard. Beyond that, dark gray limestone rose like a wall surrounding the spiritual conclave.
“Yes?” An elderly monk sat behind a simple wooden desk, clad in the standard garb. The wrinkles on his face and his wide, shiny head betrayed his age as somewhere near Ivan the Terrible. He clasped his hands on his desk, and raised his eyebrows, obviously accustomed to respect. Still, despite the reasonable tone of his low, aged voice, and his slow demeanor, Kat came up empty when she searched his face for patience.
“I found this woman wandering around the grounds.”
Kat rubbed her arm where the monk had held on and wondered how a man of God could have such a cruel grip.
“Are you lost?” The head monk frowned and a chill ran through Kat’s veins.
Looking heavenward, she shook her head.
Her own thundering heartbeat filled the silence in the room.
“What do you want?” The gravel in his voice rattled Kat’s bones.
She found her voice, hidden right behind her cowering curiosity. It emerged as feeble as her courage. “I’m looking for one of your brothers. . .”
The two monks exchanged glances. Kat took the opportunity to dig into her pocket and pull out the scrap of envelope which bore the return address. Like forensic evidence, it felt like the hand of justice, clearing her of her crime. “Someone from this monastery sent me something. Brother Timofea Petrov. I need to talk to him.”
She held out the paper to the elder monk. He took it and one busy eyebrow tightened, angled down. “What did Brother Timofea send you?”
Kat hauled in a deep breath. The key did belong to her, right? Head Monk and Thug Monk weren’t going to wrestle it from her, were they? “A key, Sir.”
“Call me Father, if you please. Do you have it?”
Kat scanned a look between the two monks, who seemed now less sinister than curious. She nodded.
“Can we see it?” Father Monk stood, and his voice softened.
“If you tell me where I can find Brother Timofea.” Kat crossed her arms over her chest and pushed against a betraying tremble. She lifted her chin and tried to stare down the father. A second later, she was examining the polished wooden floor, her pulse nearly too loud to hear the monk’s quiet acquiescence. The sadness in his voice, however, rang volumes.
She watched his eyes as she tugged the key from beneath her shirt. They widened, and his expression changed. “So that’s where it went.”
Kat held the key in her palm, ready to white fist it should they even sniff suspiciously. “Where is Brother Timofea?”
The Father sent a small nod to the monk beside her.
“Follow me,” he said.
-
Vadeem watched Ekaterina Moore trudge out of the monastery gates, the low sun turning her hair rich amber. She’d obviously had a doozy of day, and rightly deserved, the little escape artist. Still, her shoulders shook, and the fact she was crying made Vadeem want to step out from under the full lilac and yank that awful rolling suitcase out of her grip as he muscled her into HQ. The bag rolled like a rummy behind her as she dodged ruts in the sidewalk. She stopped now and again to wipe her eyes, and once she turned and stared back at the monastery as if she’d left behind her soul and contemplated a dash back to retrieve it.
He’d have to dodge the effect of those amber brown eyes brimming with tears if he hoped to keep his eye on the prize. Namely, Grazovich. And, after watching the smuggler scoop her up like a prize, Vadeem would lay odds the two were in
She wondered if they had good food in prison. Her stomach was starting to clench.
The monk marched her into another unnamed building, down a hall, and into a wide, barren office. Two squeaky clean, tall windows peered out across a graveyard. Beyond that, dark gray limestone rose like a wall surrounding the spiritual conclave.
“Yes?” An elderly monk sat behind a simple wooden desk, clad in the standard garb. The wrinkles on his face and his wide, shiny head betrayed his age as somewhere near Ivan the Terrible. He clasped his hands on his desk, and raised his eyebrows, obviously accustomed to respect. Still, despite the reasonable tone of his low, aged voice, and his slow demeanor, Kat came up empty when she searched his face for patience.
“I found this woman wandering around the grounds.”
Kat rubbed her arm where the monk had held on and wondered how a man of God could have such a cruel grip.
“Are you lost?” The head monk frowned and a chill ran through Kat’s veins.
Looking heavenward, she shook her head.
Her own thundering heartbeat filled the silence in the room.
“What do you want?” The gravel in his voice rattled Kat’s bones.
She found her voice, hidden right behind her cowering curiosity. It emerged as feeble as her courage. “I’m looking for one of your brothers. . .”
The two monks exchanged glances. Kat took the opportunity to dig into her pocket and pull out the scrap of envelope which bore the return address. Like forensic evidence, it felt like the hand of justice, clearing her of her crime. “Someone from this monastery sent me something. Brother Timofea Petrov. I need to talk to him.”
She held out the paper to the elder monk. He took it and one busy eyebrow tightened, angled down. “What did Brother Timofea send you?”
Kat hauled in a deep breath. The key did belong to her, right? Head Monk and Thug Monk weren’t going to wrestle it from her, were they? “A key, Sir.”
“Call me Father, if you please. Do you have it?”
Kat scanned a look between the two monks, who seemed now less sinister than curious. She nodded.
“Can we see it?” Father Monk stood, and his voice softened.
“If you tell me where I can find Brother Timofea.” Kat crossed her arms over her chest and pushed against a betraying tremble. She lifted her chin and tried to stare down the father. A second later, she was examining the polished wooden floor, her pulse nearly too loud to hear the monk’s quiet acquiescence. The sadness in his voice, however, rang volumes.
She watched his eyes as she tugged the key from beneath her shirt. They widened, and his expression changed. “So that’s where it went.”
Kat held the key in her palm, ready to white fist it should they even sniff suspiciously. “Where is Brother Timofea?”
The Father sent a small nod to the monk beside her.
“Follow me,” he said.
-
Vadeem watched Ekaterina Moore trudge out of the monastery gates, the low sun turning her hair rich amber. She’d obviously had a doozy of day, and rightly deserved, the little escape artist. Still, her shoulders shook, and the fact she was crying made Vadeem want to step out from under the full lilac and yank that awful rolling suitcase out of her grip as he muscled her into HQ. The bag rolled like a rummy behind her as she dodged ruts in the sidewalk. She stopped now and again to wipe her eyes, and once she turned and stared back at the monastery as if she’d left behind her soul and contemplated a dash back to retrieve it.
He’d have to dodge the effect of those amber brown eyes brimming with tears if he hoped to keep his eye on the prize. Namely, Grazovich. And, after watching the smuggler scoop her up like a prize, Vadeem would lay odds the two were in
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