Touch of Darkness Read Online Free PDF Page A

archaeological dig run by the cool, decisive Rurik Wilder.
    But Rurik wasn't on location, and that accounted for the mistake that had cost Hardwick his life. Rurik wouldn't have allowed Hardwick to excavate the tomb while expounding for the cameras. The reporters would never have been able to bully Rurik into rushing the excavation.
    She'd walked up, seen Hardwick kneeling before the window that opened into the tomb, and heard him say, "Four to five thousand years ago, tomb mounds were constructed. Mr. Wilder's theory is that a thousand years ago, a medieval warlord called Clo-vus the Beheader took the structure and made it his own, stocking it with treasure in anticipation of his death."
    Brandon Collins from the London Globe had shouted, "What led Mr. Wilder to that conclusion?" "He did extensive research on Clovus and on the path of destruction he cut across modern-day France, England, and Scotland." Hardwick removed stones from the wall while Rurik's team of archaeologists stood back, frowning and watching intently, their arms crossed. "Mr. Wilder documented Clovus's slow disintegration from the most powerful and feared warlord of his time to a feeble man broken by illness, and he traced Clovus's retreat to this remote location—"
    At that point, Tasya had leaped onto the stone path. She was the National Antiquities representative, the only one who had a chance of talking sense into Hardwick before he did harm to the site—and Rurik did harm to him.
    That was why she saw the events so clearly: she'd been about ten feet away when Hardwick interrupted himself and exclaimed with delight, "It's a treasure chest covered with gold!"
    At that moment, an unseen wave of freezing rage from within the tomb engulfed her. She hadn't experienced such a shock of pure malice since the day the four-year-old she had been saw her world go up in flames. The cold took her breath away, blinded her, stopped her in her tracks.
    By the time she could see and speak again, Hardwick had reached inside.
    And the sword popped out of nowhere to pierce him right through the eye.
    The dull glint of gold must have been the last thing he saw.
    Hardwick died instantly, hung on the sword like some gruesome warning to all who dared assault the sanctity of Clovus's treasure.
    The crowd gasped, murmured, shrieked . . . and shrank back from the edge of the walkway. Distantly Tasya heard the clicking and whirring of cameras and computers as the reporters and tourists fought to capture the scene and convey a story that in an instant had gone from fluff to spectacle.
    No one came to her aid. They were afraid.
    Tasya was afraid, too. To her, the open grave exuded a palpable malice, as thick and green as poison. She breathed it in and urgently wanted it to clear, but the malevolence was old, potent, and endless.
    Yet someone had to move Hardwick off the blade, place him on the ground, and give him the rest owed to the dead. Although she prided herself on her upper-body strength, Hardwick was both tall and pudgy, and every time she wiggled the body, the sound of the sword scraping flesh and bone made her want to throw up.
    Then she heard it. The voice she'd last heard a month ago, calling her name in passion—
    "Wait, Tasya, and I'll help you."
    She glanced up. Saw Rurik striding down the ramp without a care for his own safety.
    Two reactions hit her simultaneously.
    My lover.
    And ...
    The fool. The damned fool.
    Releasing Hardwick, she launched herself at Rurik. She plowed her shoulder into his belly, sending him sprawling, and before he could catch his breath, she crawled on top of him and got in his face. "Have you no sense? There are more booby traps."
    "Who's without sense, then?" His eyes, the color of raw brandy, blazed with irritation—at her.
    If his behavior was anything to judge by, she had always irritated him. "I am being careful, not stomping on the path with my head held high, asking to get it chopped off."
    "I've walked the path before."
    "Yes, and