You bitch! Madison wasn’t going to go down like that, her brain scattered into the air. She crouched, dragging Hugo’s weight with her, then pushed back and threw her elbow deep into his gut. A groan of pain burst from him, and she used his sudden weakness to escape from his grasp.
Rupert pushed her aside and with one hand circled his father’s wrist, shaking it so the gun flew away. His free fist sliced through the air and hit Hugo’s jaw. His father lost his balance and crashed to the ground.
“Maddie, do it now,” Rupert pleaded.
The murky fog that had clouded Madison’s brain until then cleared and she called upon her inner strength and memories. Her eyes zeroed in on Hugo, and she cleared her throat.
Hail God of Abraham!
Hail God of Isaac!
Hail God of Jacob!
Direct your power to Hugo.
As if the words had burnt her skin, Laura flinched and swiveled toward Rupert and Madison. At least Laura’s attention wasn’t on Camilla anymore.
“Stop her, Rupert. Please stop her,” Laura begged.
“Sorry, Mother.” Tears filled Rupert’s eyes, but his will didn’t falter. He repeated, “Go on, Madison, please go on.”
And she did:
I command you, Laura Vance!
Come out, Laura Vance!
Stay away from Hugo!
Rupert repeated every word of the prayer, his voice devoid of any emotion. His hold on Madison was relentless and she leaned against his strength to perform the ritual.
The essence of Laura became flimsy. It faded away, only to spark up again. Her mouth opened and closed without any sound being heard. She extended her arms toward Rupert. Madison gave him a sideways glance. His profile was set in stone and his only reaction to his mother’s plea was to say the prayer even louder:
Quickly! Now! Come out!
I bind you with unbreakable chains of adamantine!
I cast you into the abyss of hell!
Laura’s shape blurred, flashed again and then finally vanished. With her disappearance, all the energy inside Madison vanished too. Her legs abandoned her and she collapsed to the ground.
“Sorry, sorry …” Rupert knelt by her side. “Are you all right?” His eyes drilled into hers in search of any sign that she was hurt.
Madison’s trembling hands rested on her thighs. With all the strength left in her, she focused on catching her breath. Finally, she managed to articulate, “I’m fine. Check on the baby first.”
She turned her head toward where Hugo was lying a couple of minutes earlier. He was slowly climbing back to his feet. He was alive. The emptiness inside her overwhelmed the relief. She had won. Finally. Camilla and the baby would be safe. The fact that Madison had condemned Laura to an eternity in hell shouldn’t matter. The fact that Laura was Rupert’s beloved mother shouldn’t matter either.
But it did.
She covered her face with her hands and hid the tears running down her cheeks.
45
Two weeks later
MADISON DIDN’T REALLY enjoy the flat taste of the orange juice. She stared at the other guests sipping champagne and imagined the bubbles tickling her tongue.
The Commemoration Ball was now in full swing. Students and academics mingled in Tom Quad, the statue of Mercury standing serenely at its center. The ball marked Commemoration Week, the ninth week of Trinity Term, the last term of the academic year in Oxford. June had been unusually sunny so far and everyone seemed to revel in the warm early-evening light.
“Want to switch to the real stuff?” Ollie cut short her wandering thoughts, startling her. “Champagne is on tap tonight. Forget about orange juice.”
Madison stared down at her now empty glass and was about to say no, but she didn’t want to break his good mood or arouse his suspicions. So she nodded and smiled a thank-you.
Ollie took her glass from her hand and walked away.
“We’ve come full circle, you and me.” Rupert slid his hand back around her waist, a place it hardly left these days. “This is where we met.”
“You still look arrogantly handsome, though.” Her eyes devoured him and she had to stop herself from finding refuge between his arms.
White tie was the dress code for men tonight. The style suited Rupert and he looked at ease in his evening tailcoat, white bowtie and starched wing collar.
“Always happy to oblige.” He gave her a slight bow. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”
He gave her another shameless look over. She was wearing the same dress she had worn for Hugo and Camilla’s wedding. Rupert had been very skilled at stripping it off that night, when they had made love for the first time …
Madison giggled, and the sound surprised her. She hadn’t laughed since before the night they’d found Louise’s body. More than two weeks had now passed. Rupert had kept his promise and followed Madison back to Louisiana. The memory of the funeral, of Mamie’s despair at burying her daughter, still had its claws around Madison’s heart.
The caress of Rupert’s fingertips over her cheek dragged her back to the present. He smiled down at her, but the smile didn’t ignite any sparkle in his eyes. Although Camilla and the baby—Rose Madison Vance—were now safe at Magway with Hugo at their side, Rupert was in mourning. His mother had died again, but this time she had taken with her all the cherished memories of his childhood.
Rupert didn’t want to remember. He wouldn’t remember the night at Magway when they had saved Camilla, or any other moments shared with his mother before that. Madison had tried to initiate a conversation but he had shut it down and dismissed her efforts.
“I can’t wait for this evening to be over … I’m hungry for you.” Rupert bent forward so he could nestle his face in the nape of her neck.
As always, the contact of his lips grazing her skin both tormented and excited Madison. She muffled a moan and stepped back. Too often lately, Rupert substituted sex for proper conversation.
“Try and keep your hands where everyone can see them,” she joked half-heartedly. “Let’s try and have an adult conversation instead.”
Frustration flickered in his eyes. “As you wish. I actually intend to take you somewhere special as soon as we’re finished with this thing.”
“Really? Where to?”
“Tsk tsk, you’ll have to wait till after that stuffy dinner. But let’s say we’ll have the opportunity to have that talk you’ve been begging for over the last week.”
“We need to talk.” Madison went on her tiptoes and kissed Rupert’s lips. She had intended for the contact to be no more than a brush, but Rupert kept her body tightly against his. He deepened the kiss and a fuzzy feeling, much more intense than any champagne, clouded her mind and tingled her senses.
Until her eyes caught an unexpected sight through her almost closed eyelids.
Jackson McCain stood at the corner of Tom Quad. He wasn’t wearing the required white tie, but a plain suit instead. His eyes drilled through Madison. She detached herself from Rupert and forced herself to stare back at him. She didn’t want him to suspect how troubled she suddenly felt. Or how scared.
Jackson was back and, with him, all the secrets he hadn’t wanted to share with her. Right now she was the sole object of his attention. He gave a slight nod in her direction, then turned on his feet and disappeared around the corner of the quadrangle.
“Why don’t you check on Ollie?” Madison said. “He might struggle with three glasses. I’ll use the restroom in the meantime.”
Rupert knotted his eyebrows and was about to say something, but changed his mind. He nodded. Once he had vanished into the crowd, Madison went after Jackson. There was no point ignoring his return, and she had the right to demand the explanations he had held back the last time they talked.
46
MADISON DIDN’T KNOW what Jackson was playing at, but she wasn’t enjoying it one bit. After disappearing around the corner of Tom Quad, he hadn’t waited for her to catch up with him. He had marched ahead
, not even looking back to check if she followed. Well, she was. Since that afternoon in May, when she had found the accusatory pictures hidden in one of his desk drawers, Madison hadn’t heard from the man she had considered her mentor. No phone call, text or email. Total radio silence.
Jackson’s compact silhouette quickly climbed the stairs leading to Christ Church Cathedral. Madison froze mid-step. The last time she had visited that place, Henry’s ghost had thrown her back in her corner and she had crashed on her butt. Taking a generous mouthful of air, she forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and entered the cathedral. The evening light filtered through the stained-glass windows and she squinted to adapt her sight to the semi-darkness.
Jackson had stopped at the foot of one of the imposing pillars near the choir. He wasn’t alone anymore. Two men now stood next to him. The broad shoulders and jet-black chin-length hair gave away the identity of one of them.
Sam.
Her brother.
Correction: half-brother. Whom she hadn’t seen or heard from since he had fled the scene of her aunt’s murder. Why had these two jumped back into her life, and at the same time? Angry words came to the tip of her tongue and she hurried to express her thoughts out loud to them. She was about to speak her mind when the third figure turned toward her. She recognized at once his commanding face and the steel in his eyes.
Albert Ballantyne.
The man who had helped rescue her when she had almost drowned at Magway.
Her gaze flicked between the three men and the angry words she had meant to deliver stuck in her throat. A long moment passed as she failed to articulate her thoughts, during which the three pairs of eyes stuck to her. Finally, she forced herself to stop gasping and cleared her throat.
“How do the three of you know each other?” I have to start somewhere.
Both Sam and Jackson turned toward Ballantyne, apparently expecting him to take the lead.
“Sam is my son,” Ballantyne said. His voice had the New York City twang she remembered from the night at the party.
Madison searched for any likeness between Sam and Albert until her brain kicked into gear. Sam was Albert’s son. Then it could only mean … Holy shit! The world around her tangoed and she took a shaky step toward a pillar in search of support. Her stomach dropped and her heart sank.
“God …” was the only word that crossed her lips.
A soft pressure on her shoulder pulled her out of her state of shock. It was Jackson.
“Did you know?” were the only words that came to her mind.
He shook his head. “Not until he contacted me when I was in the U.S.”
Madison shut her eyes to keep the tears from flowing down her face. She couldn’t let herself break into pieces right there. She shouldn’t let herself believe, but the childhood dream of finding her long-lost father squeezed her heart. A dream she had forced herself to bury deep. There were so many questions that demanded answers. She had to ask them now.
Her spine stiffened and she forced her eyes to open. Fortunately they were dry and wouldn’t give away the mess inside her. Albert Ballantyne would be the first target for her anger and grief.
“What do you want from me after all these years?” She came and stood in front of him, not letting go of his gaze. She had expected to kick Ballantyne into full defensive mode, but she saw only sadness in his eyes.
“I don’t have any right to ask you to believe me … I didn’t know about you until I saw you at the race.”
“You mean the boat race?”
“Yes. I studied at Oxford and was part of the rowing team. Hugo Vance was a vague acquaintance of mine and he introduced me to his son. I had seen him talking to you earlier and I was intrigued by you.”
“How so?” Madison made sure she kept the ice in her voice.
“You reminded me of her … of your mother. When I heard your surname, I knew you had to be Bernadette’s daughter.”
“The daughter you didn’t want to hear about? The baby you didn’t want anything to do with?”
“He didn’t know about you.” Sam cut in and joined his father’s side. “Our dad is the kind of guy who faces up to his responsibilities. He did it when my mom had me. Maybe yours didn’t want him to know.”
“Just shut up, will you?” Madison would gladly have applied her very basic knowledge of krav maga to make Sam pay for what he accused her mother of. “My mom said my father left, and I believe her over anything your father says.”
“I did leave.” Ballantyne took hold of her hand. She shook him away. “I had to for my work. But I had no idea she was pregnant. I tried to stay in touch with Bernadette, but she stopped answering my calls and letters.”
“Why would she do that?”
Ballantyne answered with a shrug. “Maybe she thought you’d be better off without me in the picture. I was so dedicated to my business, traveling all the time … not really ideal father material.”
Madison turned her back on Ballantyne and rubbed her face. As much as she didn’t want to trust this near stranger, she could see her mother deciding to be a single mom rather than depending on a man, absent or not. That was just the kind of woman she was and always had been.
She swiveled and continued interrogating him. “Why did you send Sam to me? And what does Jackson have to do with all of this?”
Jackson stepped forward, but Albert didn’t relinquish the lead. “I hired someone to do some research about you, your life here in Oxford, your friends. That’s how my attention was drawn to your tutor, a man who seemed to have taken a private interest in you.”
“So private that he had me under surveillance.” Madison threw her arrow straight into Jackson. His face registered hurt, but he had the decency not to deny anything.
“Only it wasn’t entirely private,” Albert continued. “Your tutor doesn’t only work for Oxford University. But I’ll let him explain that.”
Jackson let out a small cough, clearly looking for words, but his eyes met Madison’s without any shadow of guilt. “As much as I want to tell you everything, I still can’t.”
“Then just leave.” She hadn’t meant to sound so flippant, but her tolerance for secrets and half-truths was running thin.
“Your father is telling the truth. I am a professor, but that’s not everything I am. When I was at Yale, not much older than you are now, I was approached by people I used to call the ‘men in black.’” He laughed at his own joke. “They worked for … the government, to put it simply, something not too far from The X-Files. They recruited me. My role was—still is—to gather intelligence about the academic world I work in. First at Yale, now Oxford.”
“You freaking spied on me.” Madison pointed her finger at Jackson. “You lied to me right from the start.”
“I did, at least at the beginning. But believe me when I say I’d be sacked if the people I work for knew how little I’ve actually disclosed about you.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I think you know why.” Jackson leaned against the pillar and buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, and it was her turn to look down at her feet. Jackson loved her. He really did. Still, love didn’t excuse the fact that he had hired someone to photograph her.
“I’m not proud of having someone follow you and steal snapshots of your daily life. But that’s how I found out I wasn’t the only one interested in you.”
“Sam?”
“Whoo-hoo, Pumpkin.” Her … brother waved his hands as if offended. “Give me some credit, Jackson. I can follow someone’s tracks without being found out.”
Jackson credited him with a half-smile. “He’s right. Sam was resourceful, for sure. My man didn’t pick up on him. What they did pick up on, however, were your aunt’s acquaintances, and by that I mean Aurélie Laurent mainly.”
“That woman and her henchmen were all over you,” Sam confirmed.
Irritation flared up inside her, but she kept a lid
on it. Apparently she had been clueless. Again.
“And they didn’t want anyone to mess with their plans,” Jackson added. “That’s why they decided to take me out of the picture by having me go back to the States.”
Madison knew how far Aurélie was prepared to go: a knife in Aunt Louise’s heart. There was more than a trace of dread in her voice when she asked, “How did they manage that?”
“They tampered with the brakes in my dad’s car.”
“Oh God!” Her hands flew to her chest. “Is he …”
“He’s recovered,” Jackson said, “but I had to stay by his side. I’m the only family he’s got left. Plus, after your father got in touch with me I knew you weren’t on your own.”
The flow of information had numbed her brain. The three men formed a triangle, with her at the center, and their stares passed over her, through her. She had to put some distance between herself and this new reality. She turned and walked back a few yards, all the way feeling their attention wrapped around her. She had to pull herself together. She had to think straight. To think forward. Spinning on her toes, she faced Jackson, Sam and her … father.
“So what now?” she demanded. “Do we all play happy families?”
Albert detached himself from the others and approached her, his comforting gaze fixed on her. When he was a couple of yards away from her, he stopped. “Aurélie is still a threat. She will always be, as long as she doesn’t get what she wants.”
“You mean that she really expects me to—”
“Give birth to a messiah.” Albert couldn’t help the corner of his mouth from curling into a smirk. “Yes. That’s exactly it. You can wait for it to happen. Years maybe. Or we can try and trap her now.”
The latter seemed the only option now. Still, she had to try for an easier escape.
“Aurélie hasn’t been in touch with me since Aunt Louise … passed away.” Well, not entirely true. There had been her creepy text message. “Maybe she’s moved on to new pastures.”
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