Intuitively, I fought back. Shrouded by darkness, I struggled like a feral beast, even when I was hit so hard that I lost my footing, nearly collapsing to the floor.
“Where is it?” a voice demanded.
I stayed silent.
Everything went black.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Leslie sat beside me on the couch, patting my back.
“Why did Nick do this?” I mumbled.
“Do you know for sure it was Nick? I thought you told the cop you didn’t see the perp.”
“Well, if it wasn’t Nick, then who? Why would a burglar break in and take nothing?”
“How ’bout some wine?” she asked, walking toward the kitchen.
“Sure. There’s a bottle of shiraz on the counter.”
Outside the window, across the street, a police car sat parked. I’d answered all their questions, and they’d promised to keep a cruiser in the area for the night until they tracked down my ex.
A faint uneasiness continued to course through me. What was bothering me? Probably nothing more than a residue of the violation. After all, didn’t most people say they felt like victims from knowing someone had been in their home? Still, nothing seemed to be missing, and aside from a bruised head, I hadn’t been harmed. I should feel lucky, right?
I looked around the room at the overturned chair and shattered glass. The room was symbolic of my life right now.
With a jolt, I realized what was bothering me: “Where is it?” the voice had said.
The bump on my head had momentarily dazed me. I had blacked out and forgotten he’d spoken to me. Leslie was right. I couldn’t be sure it was Nick, but I was sure I knew what he was looking for.
I ran down the hall, padding across the shag area rug until I reached my bedroom. Dragging the stool from my makeup table to the closet, I climbed up and lifted the left side of the ceiling tile inside the closet until I could fit a hand in.
My palms were sweating.
At first I felt nothing, and my heart physically ached. And then I felt it—the rectangular carved elephant box.
Breathing hard now, shivering, I opened it. The jewels sparkled at me like long-lost friends waving hello.
“Why me?” I whispered, pulling the bracelet from the rosewood box before placing it back in the closet. I would need a replacement for the ring. The bracelet was much less conspicuous than the necklace.
I pulled my suitcase from my closet just as Leslie came in.
“Hey, Earth to Sophia…”
“Sorry.” I frowned, looking at her as she handed me my wineglass.
“Whatcha doin?’”
“I spoke to Cullen before you got here. I’m gonna go stay with his family in Antibes. He has to go to New York tomorrow, but he has to be in Paris next week, so I’m just going to stay at the vacation home with his brother and maybe Lucille until he gets there.”
“You’re going back, aren’t you?”
I ignored her, folding a dress into the case.
“I know that look, Sophia. You’re not ready. We haven’t finished researching.”
“What else is there to know? Someone’s after me, Leslie. They want this,” I said, holding up the bracelet.
“So give it to them, babe. It’s not worth your life.”
“That’s just the thing. Apparently it is worth my life. It’s my destiny: if I give this up, then they’ll kill me anyway, like they always do. Madam Brun said my only chance is the inscription on the original jewel. I don’t think these pieces hold enough power anymore to trap him. And besides, I need the incantation to do it.”
Facing the sea at the O’Kelleys’ summer home, I was listening to distant music from a boat docked offshore as it filtered through the backyard foliage, accompanied by the smell of tobacco. The odor was pungent, and it drew my immediate attention. Placing the book I’d been enjoying on the table next to the lounger, I got up. The boat was much too far away to be emanating that smell. I was irritated by the stench, a waking reminder of my nightmares. I looked around.
If only I could place where it was coming from, then I could relax. But it set my nerves on edge, and the wafts of images that it carried with it only agitated me further.
I suddenly wished I were with Cullen, on his business trip. The French Riviera was beautiful, but here on the patio alone, with everything that had happened, I felt vulnerable. When would Liam get back from town?
I looked back toward the house, into the sun. A shadowed figure in blue shorts and a white T-shirt walked my way, carrying a bag.
The music from the boat changed to pounding drums, slamming bass lines and roving guitar riffs.
Liam set the bag on the table, looking down.
“How about some dinner?”
I glanced in the bag. “What’s on the menu?”
“Seafood,” he said and ran a hand through his dark hair. His face was shadowed with stubble and glistened with sweat. He narrowed his eyes as he looked out to the water.
“Bloody hell, do they have to anchor right there?”
I stared past him, finding it humorous and a bit odd that a man of God swore as much as Liam did. Then I found I was wondering once again about that smell. Had someone followed me all the way to Antibes?
“Lass, you all right?” he murmured, glancing back at the boat. His gaze moved closer to shore, and I followed it to where the O’Kelleys’ yacht was docked.
“Yes. I was just hoping we could head out to Sainte Marguerite today—you know, to look for my Gigi’s ring?”
“Tomorrow morning? It’s getting late in the day to do that trek.”
I thought about it. No, I needed to go. He was here. I could feel it.
I kept my eyes downcast. “I’d really prefer to go now.”
I could feel his eyes on me as he shifted his weight from side to side.
“So be it then. Let’s go.”
“I just have to grab my jacket,” I said, running inside and up the stairs. I’d need Gigi’s bracelet for this. Of course I wouldn’t put it on until I was in the cavern. I could feel him watching, and although Liam was large, he was a priest, and I lacked confidence in his ability to protect me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Southwestern Germany, 1857
When the motion ceased, I could hardly move a finger and was too weak to lift my head, let alone sit up. Why did I feel so bad? Realization dawned on me. I had found the cavern off the Lérins Islands.
I heard a bird sing out loudly, the sound of the breeze in the needled trees, and a very light rattle of falling leaves as a gust took up, strong enough to dislodge them. I lifted my sleepy lids and noticed my surroundings; hostile bloodshot eyes stared back at me. I cast a covert glance around the circle, allowing my gaze to settle on a large dark-haired man. What had Sapphira gotten herself into now? I seemed to go where Sapphira was; at least, that’s how I assumed it worked.
Panic bubbled, and I fled blindly through an open space in the ring of men. An arm reached out for me as I darted by, but I twisted free and made it several feet, branches scratching my face and arms, ankles turning as I stepped in holes and stumbled on rocks. A dozen crows erupted from the canopy of the forest, bursting from the jagged line of trees, blacker than the night and screaming in their raspy voices.
Something clubbed me hard behind the ear, and I lurched headlong, landing with a thud that took my breath away. Rough hands flipped me onto my back, and I longed for unconsciousness. I struggled to get free, but the group stood once again in a scattered circle around me, staring like I was a porterhouse and they hadn’t eaten in years. Although my ears were ringing, I heard some of the men taunting and tempting one another.
Lust, along with the smell of unwashed bodies, filled the air, but the grey-haired man who I presumed to be the leader seemed to take charge, shouting and discouraging ana
rchy by shoving men out of the way.
“Beruhigen! Holen Sie sich weg von ihr!”
I had no time to figure out what he was saying; one of the men pulled me to my feet, mumbling, “Aufstehen.”
The leader turned to me and shouted, “Wie ist dein name auf französisch?”
He continued to speak to me, but there appeared to be no connection between my brain and my senses at the moment. The travel through the portal had been hard on me; perhaps it got harder every time, to prevent someone from meddling too often in the past.
The musky smell of sweat brought me back to reality. My captor grew impatient and flung me belly-down on to the saddle of a horse.
I heard the song once again and then the crack of the feathered wings as the bird took to hasty flight; perhaps it had been trying to warn me off. A shower of broken twigs peppered me on the head, accompanied by one large butt to the back of my skull.
“Oow.” I made a strangled noise as someone climbed on behind me, but my words were lost in the clatter of the galloping horses, and my world went dark again.
Please, Lord, let them stop, I thought when I woke later. My eyes peeked open; someone was leading the horse I was tied down to. Each step seemed to jar the headache pounding behind my eyes, and even my nether regions ached, presumably from being bounced around on a horse. Our path was leading us upward at the moment. I realized it was daytime, but we were in a forest, and so everything was bathed in a soft green twilight. Great coniferous trees surrounded and shaded us, and yet the men still smelled ripe with sweat from the steady climb.
My stomach rumbled, and I wondered how long it had been since they found me. One day or ten? I had no clue. I noticed mushrooms growing in patches near some of the trees. I was tempted to jump down to grab some, but then again, I’d most likely poison myself if left to my own devices.
The men didn’t seem to realize I was awake and argued about my presence.
“Tötet sie!”
I blinked slowly and stole a glance to see who had said that. My wits were back, and I now understood what they were saying, for the most part. They spoke German. I understood enough to get the general topic of conversation, and I didn’t like it.
“Kill her,” said one of the stocky, angry-looking men. “She’s seen us.”
“Nicht,” said another. “Leave her be. If we kill her then we up the odds that we’ll be pursued.”
“Let her go,” a heavyset man with thick eyebrows replied vehemently. “She’ll die out here, and her blood won’t be on our hands.”
“Halt die klappe!” yelled the leader, scowling at the three. They stopped moving. There was only the sound of the bridles chinking as a deep hush fell over the group.
“It’s not up for debate. You see this?” He held something sparkly up to his eye.
A sudden wave of dizziness swept over me, followed by the clench of nausea. My bracelet, Gigi’s bracelet. I thought furiously.
“Are you blind? She comes from a good family.” His long, thin fingers held the bracelet tight as he leaned down to peer at me. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“I smell a hefty ransom in the air—how ’bout you?” laughed another man outside my line of vision.
The croaked words terrified me. I bit back tears at the idea of Gigi’s heirloom being stolen. At least I didn’t bring everything, but how will I get home? Rochus said I need the bracelet to survive the portal.
A hand seized my hair and jerked my head upward, leaving me staring into the eyes of a tall, thin man. He then released me. Apparently he was only checking to make sure I lived.
My lids grew heavy, but I needed to know who these men were and, more importantly, where I was. I distinctly remembered one of the men speaking of a castle and silver. I wondered how far we were from the castle and prayed we were followed. I’d have a chance if someone caught up. I needed to either escape or slow them down.
I woke but resisted opening my eyes. The dreams of Cullen and Ireland were preferable to the reality on the other side of my eyelids. The physical world finally intruded via muscle cramps along my arms and legs. Aches radiated up my backside, and soreness pulsed from being in one position on the hard ground too long. I cracked an eye open, peeking out. Now on my side in the fetal position, I was tied to a tree about fifteen feet from the fire. My lips, nostrils and throat burned, and I yearned for a drink. I tried to lift my hand to my face to scratch my nose, but my wrists were bound. The man ordered to watch me on the horse earlier was nowhere in sight.
With the sun nearly down, shadows played tricks on my mind, and my heart leapt into my throat as a small animal ran out of a bush and up a tree. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. The ropes were knotted far from my reach, and they felt as though they were getting tighter with every strained pull. Pushing through the fear, I concentrated on the leader’s words. He needed me alive in order to ransom me. He’d probably start questioning me soon to find out where I was from. What would Sapphira’s family think? More rustling sounded from the bush, and the silhouette of a man appeared.
Oh, thank goodness, I sighed as he came forward.
“I thought I was left to die out here.”
He grinned wolfishly, chewing on his lower lip as he ran his hand along my shoulder. He wasn’t there to release me.
His eyes glinted, and he bared his dirty rotten teeth in another grin that made my stomach lurch. He was a scrawny, tanned man with a scruffy beard and dark-circled eyes. No prize by anyone’s standards.
I clenched my fists and set my chin, and a cold shudder ran through my body. The man gripped me by the shoulders and attempted to lay me back, but I fought and managed to knock him off.
“Please, stop,” I begged.
“Hinlegen!” he shouted, but I wasn’t about to lie down. Seizing my ankles, he jerked me flat and pinned me with the weight of his body. I thrashed wildly, looking for a way out.
“Lie down.” His flat tone lacked emotion. The smell of sweat mixed with pork and schnapps invaded my senses as he thrust his tongue in my mouth. I gagged down the burning sensation in my throat. I butted at him with my head, not caring how much it hurt.
Very strong hands pushed up my skirts, and butterflies shot through my intestines.
Fighting was not working. I should try reasoning with him; perhaps an empathetic side would emerge.
“Please, stop,” I pleaded, wiggling under his kisses and gropes. “I’m Sophia.”
He was breathing hard, and his heart was pounding against mine like a jackhammer. His crotch bulged against my thigh. Perhaps reasoning wouldn’t work either, it was definitely too late to hope there was any blood left in his actual brain. I steadied my resolve. As he undid his lederhosen, I saw my only chance to escape. I kneed him in the balls. He fell forward, and I rammed my elbow into his nose. Big mistake, I thought. It only subdued him for a moment.
“Hündin,” he spat, angry as hell, rubbing his groin, blood dripping from his face. The look in his eyes sent sheer terror up through my toes. He backhanded me across the cheekbone. The pain sucked my breath from my lungs, and my eye felt like it exploded.
Slowly the truth of my situation sunk in. I was going to die out here. I had nothing left. Sweat dripped from my brow, despite the cool night air, and chills formed at the base of my neck. I’d thought I would have more time. I longed to see Cullen again. I foolishly wished for him to save me, but I knew that was impossible. I berated myself for wasting my life. I should have stayed at the summer house and waited for him instead of running off to the Lérins Islands half-cocked.
He began fumbling once again with his belt, and I gave away all hope as he positioned himself between my legs.
“No more shrieks for mercy?” he hissed.
The heaviness of his manhood pushed against my bare skin, parting me. I closed my eyes tight, praying it would all be over soon, with as little trauma as possible.
/> With a sudden jerk, his body went heavy and limp. I opened my eyes, confused as to why he’d suddenly fallen asleep upon entry. Not that I minded. I was even more confused when I realized he was being tossed off of me, discarded to the side like a broken, life-sized doll.
I turned my face upward, looking into the eyes I feverishly dreamed of. Cullen.
I was scooped up into his arms, and a wave of euphoria washed through my body. We began moving quickly.
“Where are we going?” I mumbled. My mouth was coppery and tacky from a cut on the inside of my cheek.
Receiving no answer from my companion, I repeated in a louder tone, “Cullen, where on earth are you taking me?”
Nothing. No answer. He was irate about something. Oh well, I thought. Exhausted from the last 24 hours, I drifted into a pleasant slumber, resting against his body as we rode to safety. I never thought it would have been possible to sleep on a galloping horse once, let alone twice in the same day, but I guessed there came a point where the body’d had enough.
Stirring from my slumber, I sleepily opened my eyes and brought my hands up to my face to rub them; one eye felt puffy and reminded me of last night’s tryst with the barbaric gypsy. I yawned and gave a cat-like stretch. I was surprised to see Viktor staring back at me. When had he shown up? I vaguely remembered seeing Cullen. Had I confused the two? I must have been delirious. He probably wondered why I was in the middle of the woods… yet again.
“Guten morgan.”
“Good morning.” I licked my dry, cracked lips. “Water?” I managed to scratch out. He paused from filleting a snake and handed me a metal cup filled with brown-tinged water, which I thirstily chugged. I thought of my appearance and patted at my hair, feeling the tight curls. Did I look like Sapphira again?
“I wondered when you’d wake.”
“What happened? I feel terrible.”
He took his knife, once again expertly slicing into the snake in his hands. We sat in near-perfect silence five feet from one another as the growing flicker of sunlight shone through the trees and dazzled against the contrast of my gown. Viktor finished with the snake and picked up a dead rabbit that lay at his feet. I cringed at the thought of what was coming next. He sliced into the thick slab of flesh with a razor-sharp blade and inspected it as it separated. He cut again, and I cringed at the sound of the knife carving away at the muscle fibres and tendons.
The Temple of Indra’s Jewel: Page 16