Her knees sank to the ground, her fingers feeling her face. A rough line of dried blood ran across her swollen cheek and nose. Her hands moved down to her throat until her fingertips brushed against the tender spot left by the needle. She winced, not needing any more convincing that it hadn’t been a bad dream.
A fist tightened around her heart. She wasn’t supposed to be working today, either. She had the next two weeks off. Two weeks that she should be spending with Xander. Her stomach churned. She should be meeting him at the airport in a few hours.
How on earth do I get back?
She frantically searched her pockets, only to come up empty. No phone. No way to even attempt to make contact. A jolt zapped through her chest. She didn’t even have water with her, either. A person could survive three days without liquids, but in these harsh conditions, her body would dry out fast.
Running her fingers through her hair, she brushed the loose strands from her face. She had no idea when she’d last drunk something or how long she had already been out here. That gave her two days max. Probably one day until she became delirious from dehydration.
But where should she start? If she went the wrong way, she could be lost in the Sahara for days. Her other option was to stay here and wait for help. Except it was more than likely the only person who knew she was here was that assassin. It didn’t make sense for her to leave her in the middle of the desert. Was she planning to come back and finish her off?
Hands shaking, Leila crawled back down the hill to the place where she had woken up and inspected the area. Her phone or wallet could have fallen from her pocket, or maybe her purse had been tossed somewhere nearby. Her captor might have been so thoughtful as to leave her a bottle of water. She searched behind and under rocks for a few minutes but found nothing.
What was this? A slow and painful death sentence? Or a chance to escape? The woman had said she didn’t like to kill innocents, after all.
With nothing else to do, she began to walk. There might be a road or trail nearby. And hopefully edible plants grew along the way. If only the Sahara wasn’t the deadest place on earth. Shielding her eyes with her palm, she squinted at the sun.
The sun rises in the east, sets in the west. She turned until she faced west. But which way was Saqqara from here? She could be on the east side of the city. Or the west side. If she chose the wrong direction, she could end up getting lost for good.
Her stomach churned as she tried to decide what to do. North. That was her best option. Go north and eventually she would reach the Mediterranean, regardless of what side of Saqqara she was on. Or she might come across one of the asphalt highways that crossed the desert. Then, if she was lucky, she could get a ride back. She pivoted to the right and fingered her fissured lip. Her plan wasn’t entirely hopeless, was it?
After a few minutes of stumbling over the uneven terrain, she wiped the sweat from her brow and eased herself to the ground. She would scream and kick something, but she couldn’t waste her energy on that. Still, the anger boiled inside of her.
“I hate you, Faris. Did you hear that? Yeah. I hate you,” she called out to no one. It needed to be said, to be shouted. He’d ruined her life in every way he could. Snatched her mother away and forced her to grow up without one. Tried to get her killed during a heist carried out by his son. And now he’d hired an assassin to finish her off.
With a frustrated growl, she grabbed a fistful of scorching sand and let it run through her fingers. The back of her neck tingled, burning. It was getting hotter. She’d have to find some shade or risk dehydrating and exhausting herself way too soon. Her throat was already tight from the lack of fluids.
The hollowness inside from thirst and hunger was only making her weaker. Without any food or water, there was only one remedy. She’d have to wait for nighttime. It would be cold, but at least she wouldn’t lose energy as quickly and shrivel up like a dried date.
Remembering a small outcrop of rocks she had passed a few moments ago, Leila followed her steps back. She reached the outcrop and, after checking for any desert vipers lurking between the rocks, she crawled underneath, thankful for the shadowy relief from the blazing sun.
As she settled into her sandy resting place, her throbbing headache returned with a vengeance. She eased her eyes shut, imagining the comforting sight of Xander’s face, especially the way his eyes always softened right before his lips met hers, and allowed her fatigue to overcome her hunger and thirst.
CHAPTER 6
The airport buzzed with activity. Men in suits, briefcases in hand, walked briskly toward the security checkpoint. Families with too much luggage on their carts chattered and bickered on their way to the check-in desks. A friendly, feminine, yet bored voice boomed over the PA system, informing a missing passenger that they were about to be kicked off their flight.
“So sorry for the delay. Thank you for your understanding.” The middle-aged lady at the counter in front of him flashed a set of perfect, white teeth at Xander and handed him his ticket.
He looked down at the slips of stiff paper in his hands, and his heart fell. This wouldn’t do at all. His new flight wouldn’t leave for another twenty-three hours.
“This is the best you’ve got?” He knitted his eyebrows together.
“It’s our next available flight out—”
“An entire day’s delay?” He dropped the ticket on the counter. “I’ve got an extremely important appointment. I have to get a flight that leaves now.”
“I’m very sorry, but this evening’s flight has been canceled due to mechanical issues—”
“So there’s no other possible route? Or a different airline?”
“Well, I can try checking again.” The ticketing agent pursed her bright red lips and glanced back at her screen. Her long, plastic nails clacked loudly on the keyboard.
Xander drummed his fingers on the counter while she typed away. He didn’t care if he had to fly through Greece or Spain or wherever. As long as he was getting closer to Leila. His pulse sped up at the thought.
“I could offer you another route via Rome,” she said in a honeyed voice, “but your arrival time would be later than if you took tomorrow’s flight.”
He groaned and rubbed his throbbing temples.
“Sir, would you like those flights instead? The flight to Rome leaves in three hours.”
He studied her through his drooping eyelids, still considering the new offer. As he watched her, he focused on the dark rings under her eyes, muted by a layer of make-up.
Something resembling pity welled up inside his chest. The agent probably heard a lot of drivel from unhappy passengers about things that weren’t her fault. She didn’t need more stress from him because he was impatient. As much as he wanted to see Leila again, he could handle one more day.
He let out a sigh. “No, no. Forget it. I’ll fly out tomorrow.” With a defeated shake of his head, he picked up his ticket and tapped the edge on the counter. “Thanks anyway.”
He strode toward the exit, his carryon trailing behind him. He’d call to cancel the reservation and reschedule. At least Leila had no idea he was planning anything at all. She’d never know the difference.
After passing through the automatic glass doors, the chilly air greeted him with a breeze that stung his face. Squinting, he searched for the line of black cars waiting for passengers, then walked up to the first taxi, tossed his luggage in the backseat, and slid onto the plush bench.
“Forest Hill, please,” Xander said to the driver. The man nodded and put the car into gear. Once they were rolling, Xander pulled his phone from his pocket and started a call to Leila. She still hadn’t rung him like she said she would.
The call went straight to voicemail. Her cheerful voice sang out, asking him to leave a message. He frowned. When did she ever turn her phone off? The message ended with a beep.
“Love, my flight was canceled so I got rescheduled. I’ll text you the exact details but I’ll be leaving late tomorrow night instead, so see you then.”
He ended the call with a scowl even though he wasn’t mad at her. Just at the delay. But he would live. Tomorrow, he’d be off to Egypt at last.
