She clawed his arms, but he only put more pressure on her neck. His empty, black eyes bored into hers.
“Too bad he’s dead,” Amir said with a sneer, flexing his fingers against her skin.
“Prove it,” Leila whispered, her neck throbbing against his hold.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” Her throat burned as he squeezed tighter. “Unless you tell me where the tomb is.”
“I won’t tell you a thing,” Leila choked. She squirmed, gasping for air as she dug her fingers between his hand and her neck. The burning rage in his eyes would be the last thing she saw.
“I think I’ll use my methods to get the information I want. You’ll tell me where it is if it’s your last dying breath.” He released her with a shove.
Leila fell to the floor and wheezed, clutching at her throat. Her eyes watered from the lingering pain. She had to leave—now. Regardless of what he would do with the artifacts. Regardless if she would be able to see her mother again. Regardless if Xander was coming back for her. Amir had now almost killed her twice with his bare hands. He was going to do it sooner or later. She had to get out of there. Now.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Heart racing, she crawled to the door and yanked down on the handle. The door didn’t budge. Amir must have locked it. Before she could think of what to do next, he latched onto her upper arm and wrested her to her feet.
Leila kneed him between the legs, shoved him away, and ran for the bed. She jumped onto the mattress, her hands flailing as they searched the pillows for the glass. Her hand wrapped around the knife-like fragment, the sharp edges slicing into her palm. Amir jerked her back by the leg. She twisted herself around as he leaned over, metal glinting in the lamplight as he brought the curved blade of his janbiya to her throat. With a scream, she swiped at his face, the pointed tip of the glass cutting deep into his skin.
An anguished cry rang out. Blood streamed from the split that stretched from the right side of his forehead, over his eyebrow, and down his cheek. His knife clattered to the floor. He sank to his knees with his hands covering his face, the cracks between his fingers seeping red.
Leila jumped to her feet, her mind spinning. What now? Her eyes fell on the chain, discarded and forgotten by the wall. A moment later, she snapped the metal clasp around his ankle and kicked his knife into the corner of the room, out of his reach.
Amir continued to howl into his blood-covered hands, lines of red trickling down his arms. Her stomach churned and she slapped a hand over her mouth as she backed away—she didn’t mean to do that much damage.
“I’m going to kill you!” Amir shrieked. One hand covered the wound, the other hung at his side, fingers flexing as if they longed to rip her to shreds.
Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of his bloodied face, like something from a horror movie. He rose to his feet, his chest heaving. He leaped toward her, but the chain stretched to its limit and jerked his leg, sending him to the floor again. On his knees, he roared out threats like a raging jackal, ready to sink its teeth into and maul anyone who came within range.
Time to go.
Her eyes darted to the door and she swallowed. Amir would have the key. There was no way she would risk going near him to find it. The only other option was the window. She reached it with a few brisk strides then forced it open. Cool wind brushed her face as she stuck her head outside. There was just enough space for her feet on the ledge.
Ignoring Amir as he screamed more death threats, she clambered out the window and settled her feet onto the ledge.
She shivered as the crisp night air prickled on her skin, the wind whipping her hair into her face, Amir’s curses echoing from the window behind her. She stared straight ahead, over the wall between her and freedom. Even if she did get down from the ledge, she would have to get past the guards. Her eyes darted down, and her heart leaped into her throat. The drop was at least fifteen feet. There was nothing but a stone path to break a fall.
She jerked her head back up and took in a shaky breath.
Whatever you do, don’t look down.
With her back flat against the wall, she inched along the ledge until she made it to the next window. The glass panels were closed. The room was dark—there probably wasn’t anyone inside to open them. She didn’t see how she could smash the window either. Trying not to panic, she leaned her head back against the wall as she tried to think of a plan B. Not that she had had a plan A in the first place.
Shouts reverberated below. Guards ran through the garden, stopping to point at her. They talked amongst themselves, their Arabic too fast for her to understand everything. The guards dispersed, hustling toward the kitchen entrance.
Leila clenched her teeth. She had to find a different window. As she slid her foot across the ledge, a weak spot gave way. With a gasp, she held onto the crevice above the window and jerked her foot up. Pieces of the plaster wall clattered to the ground.
She swallowed against the lump in her throat. It was over. The guards would bring her back to Amir. He’d torture her until she told him where the tomb was. As usual, she’d made everything worse.
A sharp whistle came from somewhere above her. She tilted her head back and nearly fell off again from surprise. A dark figure crouched on the flat rooftop, holding a rope in his hands.
“Thanks for sparing me the trouble of having to heroically crash through the window,” Xander called as he tossed a length of the knotted rope down to her.
She made no move to take the rope as it swung back and forth.
He came back. He came back for her.
“You all right?”
“I’m coming,” Leila yelled up to him, snapping out of her daze. She snatched the rope and flexed her fingers around the coarse fibers. She could do this. She’d done those rock-climbing walls plenty of times before, and she could do it again. Even in the absence of hooks, harnesses, and belay devices. Inhaling deeply, she started the climb, Xander heaving the rope on his end.
Once she made it to the top, the window burst open below her.
“Where’d she go?” one of the guards yelled.
Leila scrambled over the edge, Xander holding her arm until she had steadied her feet.
“You’re alive,” she breathed. Overcome by relief, she threw her arms around him.
“I plan to keep it that way,” he said, resting a hand between her shoulder blades.
Leila scrunched her nose as her nostrils filled with the scent of hay. Before she could ask, he took hold of her shoulders. For a moment, he studied her face, his gaze darting over each cut and bruise.
Finally, he lowered his hands and clenched his jaw. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Let’s just get out of here.” Leila picked a piece of straw off his shoulder and gave it a quizzical look. “Wait—how did you even get back in?”
He didn’t answer. He was already striding toward a slanted access door. He lifted the door then jerked his head toward the opening.
