Lucheux laughed.
Madelaine made a low sound of fear but the fear went beyond physical fear.This was never going to end.As long as she was alive Lucheux and Giselle would stalk her.She would never be safe and if she was never safe, the treasure would never be safe and humankind would always be in peril.
Suddenly the fear left her.A calmness settled over her.She focused on Christien, memorizing the lines of his face, those gray eyes that flashed like quicksilver when they made love.She wished for so much.That she could hold him one more time.Tell him how much she loved him.
More than anything she wanted to run away with him to a place where it was just the two of them.Where treasures didn’t exist.Where madmen with lofty ambitions of ending the world weren’t after her.
But those were dreams for people who could afford to dream.For people with normal lives.
For she and Christien this was reality and while she could whine that reality sucked, it wouldn’t do any good.
She got them into this predicament by being foolish and thoughtless.She would get them out of it.
Christien’s mind wouldn’t obey his command to keep focused.The forest around him narrowed.Sweat dripped down his back, igniting his wound on fire.
His numb fingers flexed then closed.
Lucheux backed up, dragging Madelaine with him.She didn’t struggle, just looked at him with sad eyes.The knife slipped, biting into her collarbone and drawing blood, but she didn’t wince.’Twas as if she’d given up.Panic obliterated the pain for a moment.He moved forward on his knees, reaching a hand out to her.His stomach rolled, nausea combining with the pain.
He tried to focus on Madelaine, to tell her with his eyes that he wouldn’t let Lucheux take her.Except she kept fading in and out of sight.He shook his head again.
“I love you,” she mouthed.
Confused, Christien frowned.
Suddenly, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her legs gave out.She sagged, her weight pulling Lucheux with her.His hold loosened.
Madelaine’s eyes flew open.She twisted, grabbed Lucheux’s knife and plunged it into her stomach.
Lucheux dropped her and stumbled back, a look of horror on his face.
She landed on the soft pine needles, the knife protruding from her, an ugly, lethal weapon sticking out of her beautiful body.Dark red blood pooled, then dripped down her side.
A primal cry of disbelief rushed out of Christien.Rage beat at him, thundered through his veins and chipped away at his soul.Bloodlust surged through him and with a strength he was surprised to find he still had, he raised the gun and shot Lucheux.
Lucheux’s mouth dropped open and a breath of air escaped before he collapsed.
Christien crawled to Madelaine, each movement tearing open his wound more, causing fresh blood to spill.He was losing so much his heart struggled to beat.Gently he touched her face and her eyes opened.
Her chest rose on a labored breath and when she exhaled, blood bubbled from the wound.Pain, far more pain than was caused by his injury, sliced through him.He bit back the urge to scream a denial.He’d been in enough battles to know what those bubbles meant.
The knife punctured her lung.
“What have you done?”His throat closed, fighting the sobs struggling to escape.Why?He wanted to scream at God.Why her?Why was he doomed to meet her and lose her again?Was it not enough that he’d given everything to protect the treasure?Could he not have one good thing in his life?
Her eyes fluttered open, focused on him, but the life was slowly draining from her.“I’m…sorry.”
He shook his head, fighting to stay conscious.“No,mon couer,I’m sorry.I should have protected you better.”He choked on the last words.
Her hand touched his cheek, her fingers brushing his jaw.
She blinked as if she couldn’t focus.“This is…the way it…should be.Protect the…treasure.”
He leaned over her as if to shield her from what was to come.“Youare my treasure, Madelaine.”
She fumbled for his hand and grasped his fingers.“Find her,” she breathed.“Protect her.”
He didn’t have to ask who she was talking about.He didn’t want to protect her sister.He wanted to protecther.
