Stolen: Dante's Vow

I turn to glance at Jericho who is also listening, who smiles a smile that lets me glimpse the man I’d seen five years ago.

“Come,” he says. “Maybe you’ll understand why I need to do this.”

He doesn’t wait for me to reply but heads through the living room and toward that door and as I follow the sound grows a little louder, the child’s voice whisper-singing along with the song like she’s done it a hundred times before. It isn’t what I expect even though I know he’s taking me to see his daughter. The sound is too soft. Too innocent and too vulnerable for the likes of this man.

I stop at the entrance and watch when Jericho enters. An older woman stands from the couch. She has her hair wrapped in a silk scarf and has a sickly pallor to her face. She smiles at me and nods her greeting to Jericho who nods back but his attention is on the child with a cloud of soft dark curls around her head. She’s so captivated by what’s on the TV that she hasn’t noticed we’ve even walked into the room. She’s holding a well-loved bear on her lap, rubbing his ear, and singing along, her tune a little off. It’s the sweetest sound and my heart melts.

And I know my reaction is exactly what he wants. Why he brought me here.

The song ends.

Jericho clears his throat. The little girl turns to him and instantly, her eyes light up and she’s on her feet, crashing into his legs.

“Daddy!” He lifts her up and she wraps her arms around his neck, that bear still clutched in one hand.

“You know all the words now,” he says to her and hugs her tightly. I see how he’s closed his eyes, how tightly he’s holding her. It brings tears to my own eyes.

“I’ve been practicing,” she says, and he draws back, sets her on her feet but keeps one of her hands in his as he crouches down.

“I think you’ve grown taller,” he says. “You’re almost taller than me.”

She giggles. “Only when you’re crouching.” She hugs him again and he looks at me over her shoulder. He straightens, lifting her in his arms and facing me. Her expression is cautious.

Looking from father to daughter, I see she has his eyes and realize their color is slightly different, one blue and one gray. The little girl pulls a little closer to him.

“It’s all right,” he reassures her and walks toward me. “This is Mara,” he says. “Mara, this is my daughter, Angelique.”

45

Dante

“How the fuck did he find her?” I boom.

“Just like we’ve been watching him I’m sure he’s been watching us,” Matthaeus says.

“You said you moved her twice. How did he do it?”

“I don’t know. They’re bringing Noah here now. The other guards are just starting to come around.”

“No one was hurt?”

“No. Apart from Noah being a little beat up. He tried to fight off one of the men before he was knocked out.

“Noah?”

He nods.

With all those soldiers, it was Noah who tried to fight. “The card?” I ask.

He takes out his phone and shows me a screenshot front and back. “Noah’s got it.”

I take the phone, look at the back. The front has the same I.V.I. logo so it’s useless to me. But on the back, he’s written something.

“Faust. Box 4. Midnight.”

“What the fuck—”

“The opera Faust is playing tonight. The show will be over by midnight. I guess that’s when he’ll bring her.”

“Who’s rented Box 4? Pérez doesn’t strike me as the opera-going type.”

“I’ll see what Charlie can find out from here,” Cristiano says. “It could be a trap, brother.”

“I don’t have a choice but to go. He took her. I need to get her back. I’ll call you after,” I tell Cristiano before disconnecting and turn to Matthaeus who is already on his phone getting soldiers lined up.

When he’s finished, he slips his phone into his pocket and tucks his shirt into his pants as we walk out the door to one of the waiting SUVs. Soldiers are loading into the others now. He checks his watch. “We should be there in about forty minutes.”

“Midnight. He timed it well.” And kid or not, I’m going to kill the mother fucker when I get my hands on him.

46

Mara

I watch him with the little girl while she has a snack. She’s five years old and small for her age, swinging her legs back and forth under the table. Jericho has to coax her to eat but she’s clearly more interested in feeding her bear and watching me. I get the feeling she doesn’t get many visitors.

When the woman, Angelique’s grandmother, turns the corner pulling along a child’s suitcase, his expression changes and he hurries to her.

“You should have let one of the soldiers carry it down,” he tells her, taking the case from her.