He paced across the room. His hardened heart fighting with his growing emotions. “Your daughter is hardly better.”
“My daughter does what she does for me, for love. Can you say the same?”
Her words hit him in the gut. Of course he didn’t steal for love. He didn’t even know if he could love. But he cared. He could admit that much. He cared for Adelaide, whether he wanted to or not.
“How, pray tell, do you expect my daughter to make money? In a factory? A whorehouse?”
Her words were too blunt, too honest. His stomach clenched, bile rising to his throat. The thought of Adelaide harming herself in any way repulsed him, made his knees weak.
“They say the statue has powers, they say there are men who would kill for it.” He turned to face her. “Where is your daughter now? Tell me she isn’t meeting with anyone.”
The woman’s lower lip trembled, her eyes wide. Fear was written quite plainly across her weathered face. Did she not understand the direness of the situation? Something akin to panic began to tap at the edges of his mind, urging him to run…run.
“Tell me where she went.”
“Notre Dame.” She reached for him, clasping onto his hands. Her fingers so cold and frail, she reminded him of his own mother and another time some twenty years ago. “Help her.”
He didn’t even pause as he answered. “I will.”
He pulled away from the woman and left the room, closing the door behind him. He had no time to waste. His feet thundered down the steps, his heart racing. How long had she been gone and who was she meeting? He shoved the door wide and stepped into the cold night. The lane was empty, the night quiet. A shiver of unease raced over his skin. James paused. Someone was following him. Suddenly he was slammed against a wall, an unknown force pushing him forward. He couldn’t move, pinned like an insect to the rough stone. He gritted his teeth, his muscles burning with exertion, but someone…something… held him still, as if his body was no longer his own.
“I trusted you,” a familiar male voice growled.
The pressure released, but before James could move, he was flipped around like a ragdoll, his back to the wall.
Lord Emery stood five feet from him. No one else was there. “Where the hell is my statue?” the man asked.
James tried to fist his hands, but not even his fingers would move. Not a soul touched him, yet he couldn’t move. Sweat gathered on his brow, his breathing harsh. Anger swirled low in his gut.
Emery strolled closer. “You told me you’d get the statue. Now where is it?”
“I gave you the piece, it was in your hands.” James gritted his teeth and tried to move, he couldn’t. The struggle was pointless. He didn’t understand what was happening. His mind couldn’t make sense. “If you lost the statue, it’s your fault.”
“My fault.” He laughed, a soft chuckle that grated his nerves. “You think I need you?” Emery lifted his hand, a pistol gleamed wickedly in his palm. “I’ll show you just how much I need you.” The blast rang through the air. James felt the bullet rip through his insides…through his chest. Whatever power had been holding him in place gave away and James crumbled to the ground.
“You were just a pawn, my friend.” Emery crouched low, hovering over James. “You think we only want the statue? The girl has so much more to offer than that damn statue. Powers you can’t even begin to imagine.”
James forced himself to pay attention to the man’s words, even as he felt the warmth of his blood pooling underneath him.
“Now that we know who we’re looking for, who has the statue… the power we’ll hold will be unthinkable.”
Adelaide. He’d led them to her.
Lord Emery stood and spun around, his long black coat flaring wide. He had led the man to Adelaide. Emery disappeared into the dark shadows, his boots tapping against the cobbled stone, fading…fading.
James fisted his fingers, his body tingling...cold. He couldn’t feel anything, oddly enough. Not his legs, nor his arms. His entire body had grown numb. He closed his eyes and Adelaide’s face flashed to mind, that wicked grin that made his knees weak. Those brilliant eyes. He must save her…must. But the world was no longer his. He felt as if he floated…floated in a sea of nothingness. Vaguely, he could hear street whores calling out their wares. He would die here, in a foreign country, in a place full of despair and refuse. A past he thought he had escaped.
“Open your eyes,” someone growled, pulling him back to earth.
Yes. Yes, he must open his eyes. He must save Adelaide. Slowly, his lashes lifted. A man stood before him, a man he didn’t recognize.
His blue eyes narrowed in annoyance and concern, his wavy blonde hair was slightly mussed by the chill wind that crept down the lane. No man he knew. Too wealthy looking for a pickpocket. Was he here to finish him off?
The man leaned down, his clothing fine, his boots of the best leather. “What the hell have you gotten into?” He had an American accent. An American accent in the poorest area of Paris…. how very odd.
The man sighed, as if annoyed with James. As if he knew him, when he was rather sure they’d never been introduced.
Yet, if they hadn’t been introduced, why was he prodding and poking at his chest in that familiar way? Hell, maybe he was a pickpocket. James pushed the man’s hands away.
“Leave me alone,” he muttered.
“Oh shut up,” the man snapped.
He pressed his hand to James’ forehead and the other to his chest. “Unless you want to die, then keep still.”
“Are you a doctor then?” James mumbled, barely able to get the words out. His mouth couldn’t seem to work, his throat growing thick.
The man smirked. “Something like that.” The man closed his eyes. James wanted to push him away, to beg the man to let him die in peace, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. So tired. So bloody exhausted he let his lashes drift down.
His chest and head grew warm, the heat swirling through his body, growing … spreading … down his limbs. The earth gave way and for a moment he floated in brilliant white light. Beautiful white light. The world was silent, he just was. Suddenly he slammed into something hard. James opened his eyes, his lungs expanded leaving him gasping for air. The dark buildings loomed above, wavering in and out of focus. Had he fainted? Christ, he hoped not. But how else could he explain what had happened? Confused, he bolted upright. His head felt clear, his body oddly rested. He flexed his fingers, the feel of his body almost strange.
Someone shifted beside him. James jerked his head toward the man as he stood, raking trembling fingers through his hair. “That should do it. Not quite dead, but close.”
James jumped to his feet, stumbling back. He’d seen too many mad things this night, he wasn’t sure which were real and which fantasies. “What the hell did you do?”
“Saved your pathetic life. Now, tell me,” the man snarled. “Why it is you’re following my sister?”
Chapter 5
Overhead, a bell tolled a deep, aching melody that vibrated through the immense church. Adelaide shivered, huddling within her worn, woolen cloak, the brown dress she wore just as old and tattered. She’d always loved the church, passed it a few times, although never stepped inside. For some reason she had felt like she wouldn’t be welcome.
Above, the ceiling arched high, disappearing into darkness. The blue stained-glass windows at the head of the church gave the area a heavenly glow. She felt tiny in this building, at the same time, protected. The old woman mumbling to herself in front of Adelaide stood and hobbled down the aisle. Moments later the door thundered closed. Only two others remained, a man and woman at the front of the church, so far away, they were almost hard to see.
Yes, she felt tiny and protected and guilty. Damn guilty. She’d arrived early and hidden the statue. The piece lost in this monstrous building. A perfect hiding place. She wasn’t stupid enough to hand it over directly. She’d learned her lesson. Yet now…now that she was here and ready to sell the st
atue to the old man she had been willing to sell it to in the first place, she wasn’t so sure she was doing the right thing.
She’d seen how people had reacted to that statue, in India all those months ago she’d been practically murdered for the piece. And she wasn’t the only one. And now…here… the way James would sacrifice her to gain that statue. Yet, her mother needed the money for rest, needed the countryside and clean air, mostly, needed a doctor.
“My child, are you well?”
Startled, Adelaide jumped. She’d been so tangled in her thoughts, she hadn’t even heard the priest approach.
“Yes, well. Sir,” she muttered, her cheeks heating.
He was a young priest, his face still fresh with hope, his eyes still sparkling with belief. He hadn’t been destroyed by the sinful ways of humans…yet. “You look lost my child.”
“Perhaps I am.”
His dark brows drew together. She should have kept her mouth shut, but she so desperately needed to speak to someone… anyone. He brushed his long, dark robes aside and settled next to her. “What is it that troubles you?”
Dare she admit the truth? Dare she admit that she was nothing more than a common thief. A liar. A sinner. “I’m… I’m selling something that perhaps I shouldn’t, in order to help my mother recover from an illness.”
He nodded, his gaze going to the lanterns that lined the columns running the length of the church. “Hmm. Well, your reasoning does sound noble.” He looked at her once more, his soft brown gaze full of curiosity. “Why is it that you shouldn’t sell this object?”
She shrugged, gripping her hands tightly in her lap. Dare she tell him the truth? “Perhaps… perhaps it’s not truly mine.”
“Then who does it belong to?”
Heat shot to her face, her entire body felt afire with embarrassment, with confusion and so many other emotions that she couldn’t possibly understand. “It belongs to the world.”
“Hmm.” He looked like he was desperately trying to understand, but just couldn’t grasp the words. And why would he? The story was preposterous. The belief that the statue held power was insane. “I see,” he continued. “And your mother, does she understand the importance of this object?”
Adelaide shook her head, feeling the sudden sting of tears. Merde, she wouldn’t cry. She never cried! “No, she doesn’t understand.” Her voice broke with emotion.
“Have you not told her because she would tell you not to sell this object?”
She nodded, staring at the stone floor.
He sighed, a gentle sound. “Well, child, I think you know the answer. Don’t you? Your mother would never want you to save her over the suffering of others.”
He was right. Maman would never wish for her to sin, but what choice did she have? Live forever in poverty? Watch as her mother slowly died because they couldn’t afford a doctor, let alone the tonics she needed to keep her lungs cleared.
“If your mother dies,” he said softly, as if reading her mind, “it will be with a clean heart, a clean soul.”
He had her. With those words he had her in his holy grip. “Your hands,” she choked out, tears slipping down her cheeks.
He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
She grabbed his pale, warm hands and closed her eyes. Immediately, images flashed to mind.
This man, this very priest in a dry, barren land…India. His face flushed with sweat and heat as he handed her golden statue to another…to a man in green robes. The holy man in a temple, placing the statue on a pedestal. Vines growing, stone crumbling, moss spreading, time passing and the statue still sat there. Safe. Forgotten.
Adelaide opened her eyes and released the priest’s hold. The walls wavered, her mind attempting to understand its place on the line of time.
“Are you well?” the priest asked her. He was watching her strangely, unsure if he should be nervous or not. She didn’t have time to explain her gift.
“Go,” Adelaide whispered, shoving her hands into his shoulders. “Go now. Hurry.”
He stumbled backward, his face a mask of confusion and shock.
She surged to her feet, her body trembling with pent up fear and anxiety. “Under the servant’s stairs in the back, you’ll find something important. Very important. Tell no one what it is, or what you hold. You’ll know what to do when you see it.”
He merely stood there, staring at her. Adelaide wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. “Father, you must go, now! Before they arrive.”
He nodded quick jerky movements of his head. He might not understand what she asked of him, but he understood the direness of the situation. “God be with you,” he whispered.
The young man spun around in a flurry of robes and raced down the aisle, disappearing into a corridor. The sound of his footsteps faded. Silence settled. She was alone once more.
Adelaide started forward, her leg’s trembling. She must escape before… a shiver of unease made her blood cold. She’d heard no footsteps, but she knew someone was there and it wasn’t the Father returning.
“Where do you think you’re going?” a man asked, a familiar voice. A voice she’d heard only once before but the sound had been implanted in her memory. Lord Emery.
Adelaide resisted the urge to shiver. Slowly, she turned. He looked as elegant and well-dressed as he had at the ball. And those eyes…yes, those eyes were still just as cold. “Lord Emery.” She realized, with some relief, that he had come alone. Perhaps she could outwit this man. Perhaps she could play dumb. And if that didn’t work, there was always running.
“Where is it?” he demanded.
She knew what he wanted. Had James told him she had the statue? She felt the sting of the man’s betrayal like a knife to her chest. “I don’t know.”
He released a humorless chuckle. “You don’t know? Why do I find that hard to believe?”
Suddenly Adelaide slammed back against a pew. The edge dug into her back, the pain almost unbearable.
“So damn stupid, just like your father.”
“How would you know my father?’ she hissed, her muscles flexing, but her limbs wouldn’t budge. Why couldn’t she move?
He smirked, strolling toward her. “We shared parents. He was my brother.” He shook his head. “We had abilities… abilities that we could have used to our benefit. But he refused, mad about his treasure hunting. Insane bastard.”
The entire room spun. She heard his words, yet couldn’t seem to understand. This man was her uncle. This man had abilities… some sort of perverse ability to control her body.
He turned, facing her. “Listen and listen well. Return the statue or you die.”
Adelaide couldn’t breathe. He was her uncle, surely that should have counted for something. But she knew in this greedy world, with this statue that men fought over, her own uncle would kill her. “It’s gone.”
Her entire body lifted, hovering over the stone floor. Adelaide gasped, but she could do nothing. Suddenly she was flung backward by unseen hands. She landed to the hard, stone floor, unable to hold her arms forward to take the impact of the landing. Her skull bounced against the stone, pain shooting down her neck and back. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, but she couldn’t stop the tears from forming in her eyes. Pinned to the ground, useless, unable to move her arms or legs. From far away, someone screamed, but her uncle didn’t mind that there were witnesses.
He knelt before her, and smiled. “Helpless.”
“Maybe for now,” she whispered. “But I have a power you don’t.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I know all about your powers, Dear. Why do you think I’ve hunted you down? I’ve been doing my best to find all of my nephews and nieces. So tell me, what is my future?”
“I know you’re going to try to kill me. I also know you’re going to die in the process.” She was lying. She hadn’t a clue what would happen, but he didn’t need to know that.
“You think to frighten me?” He laughed, looking thoroughly amused. “Well t
hen, if it’s going to happen, we should start the process, shall we?” His hands were at her neck, cold fingers pressing down on her throat. The face that hovered over hers was hard, those blue eyes lacking a soul. The air was cut from her body. Stars danced along the edges of her sight, her lungs burned, her throat aching. In her mind she clawed at his hands, kicked at him. In reality, she did nothing. Adelaide tore her gaze from him and focused on the stained glass. The blues and purples in the window blurred together.
The light faded. She closed her eyes, attempted to see her future, but she could see nothing.
The world went quiet. The pain faded. Adelaide floated in nothingness.
“Adelaide?”
Someone called her name. He sounded so far away, barely audible.
“Adelaide, come back.”
But she didn’t want to return. Returning would mean pain, fear. Warmth surrounded her, giving form to her body once more. She must return, she had no choice. Wrapped in a cocoon of heat and safety, she suddenly found herself rushing through air…through time. Through the darkness, a pinpoint of light was coming closer…closer…
She slammed into something hard. Adelaide’s lashes lifted. Cold air entered her lungs, too much, too soon. She gasped, so startled she bolted upright. Concerned faces wavered around her. Bea, the woman she’d met in India. Her brother’s wife. Then Colin was there, her brother, a man she knew she’d see again, but hadn’t realized it would be now, saving her life.
“Do you remember me?” Colin asked, his golden hair like a halo around his handsome face. A veritable angel come to save her soul.
Her hands went to her throat. The skin didn’t ache. Apparently she wasn’t dead. “What…what happened?” she asked.
“Thank God,” Bea whispered, her amber eyes swimming with tears.
Colin looked at Bea. “Take care of her.” He jumped to his feet and turned. That’s when she saw James on the ground, hunching over her uncle. Emery was still, his eyes closed, but that didn’t stop James from slamming his fist into the man’s face.
Colin settled his hand on James’ shoulder. “It’s over.”
Wild Passion Page 4