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Isla Mulheron sat in a coffee shop sipping black tea and waiting for a phone call. She looked around nervously at the tourists who hurried past. A man glanced in her direction, eyed her up and down. She glared back and his lascivious grin melted under the heat of her gaze.
“You look troubled,” Lark said.
“I don’t like it when people stray from the plan.”
When Maddock and his friends landed in their laps, Phyllis had taken the initiative to bring them to Isla. Now she was faced with the difficult decision of how to deal with them. Maddock and Bones were valuable resources, but difficult to control at the best of times. Being abducted for the second time that day would only make Maddock more obstinate. She doubted she could secure their aid without compelling them in some way. But could she let them go and still maintain the respect and loyalty of her team? She didn’t have much time to decide. Last she had heard, the plane was on its way to a secure location.
“Phyllis saw an opportunity and seized it.” Lark took a sip of her macchiato. How she could stand the sweet drink Isla had no idea. “Isn’t that what you want from your team?”
“We’ve gotten what we need out of him. Phyllis has only complicated things.”
“You could hand them over to Hunt and Tama. They have a list of creative things they plan on doing to Maddock when they get their hands on him again.” Lark took another sip of her drink and pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I hope they don’t mess up his face. He’s quite handsome.”
Isla shook her head. Sometimes Lark behaved like a schoolgirl—in love one minute, ready to kill someone the next. Day by day her team was getting harder to manage.
“Sorry. I forgot you still have feelings for him.”
“No, I don’t,” Isla said, much too quickly. She had all sorts of feelings where Maddock was concerned, but it didn’t matter. She could never make him understand.
Lark made a face and let the subject drop. “Can I look at the eye again?”
“Not out here in the open.”
“Oh, come on. No one knows what it is. To the uninitiated, it just looks like a piece of costume jewelry.”
Reluctantly, Isla reached inside her blouse and pulled out the eye, which she wore around her neck.
“So shiny!” Lark cupped the gem. “I feel different when I touch it.”
“How so?” Isla hadn’t felt a thing when she slipped it on.
“It’s hard to explain. It’s like it’s trying to talk to me, and I almost understand the language.”
“Let me know if it starts speaking English. Maybe it could point us to a doorway.”
“A doorway to Eden,” Lark breathed. She lapsed into silence, gazed at the orb. “What do you think she’s like?” she said abruptly.
“Who?” Isla asked absently. A small plane, flying low, was zipping toward the harbor.
“Lilith. What will it be like to stand in her presence?” Lark’s voice was a mere whisper, but it startled Isla.
“You shouldn’t talk about that in public.”
“No one is listening,” Lark rolled her eyes. “And if they were, they wouldn’t know what we’re talking about.”
Lilith, according to extra-Biblical sources, was Adam’s first wife, created from the earth at the same time as Adam. As the scripture read, “In the image of God He created them; male and female he created them.” Being equals, Adam and Lilith would not concede to one another. Lilith eventually left, and God was forced to make a new mate for Adam. Eve was a lesser creation, made from Adam’s rib rather than from the Earth itself. Where Lilith was Adam’s equal, Eve was expected to take a subservient role. Over time, Lilith was literally demonized. Many accounts described her as an evil spirit, inhuman.
“Even if Lilith was an actual person who once lived, that was thousands of years ago,” she whispered.
Lark shrugged, then her eyes went wide, and she sprang up from her chair and pointed out over the water. “Is that our plane?”
The whine of the small engine grew louder as the airplane Isla had spotted moments earlier swept down over the harbor, headed directly for the USS Arizona memorial. People stopped what they were doing to stare. Screams rang out around the memorial, tourists scattered and ran.
“What is Phyllis doing?” Lark asked.
Invisible hands wrapped around Isla’s throat as she watched the mad descent. What was happening? And then she understood. A flood of certainty swept over her, and she found her voice again.
“I don’t think that’s Phyllis’ doing. I think it’s Maddock.”
The plane buzzed the shining white monument, missing it by inches. It banked sharply, then turned south, heading out across the harbor and toward the ocean.
“Damn you, Phyllis,” she muttered. She drained her tea and turned to Lark. “We’re going to have to move much faster now.”
“Why is that?” Lark asked.
“Two reasons. First of all, that plane could be traced back to us, which makes it essential that we get beyond the reach of American intelligence as quickly as possible.”
“American intelligence.” Lark smirked. “Isn’t that an oxymoron?”
“Sometimes. But don’t underestimate them all. Some are quite capable.” She stared at the plane as it shrank to a white dot on the horizon.
“You said there were two reasons,” Lark prompted.
“There are. Thanks to Phyllis, now there is no way Maddock will give up the hunt until he has found Eden.”