Then we hit the ground. Mud. Gravel. Ice. The tires spin, grabbing for purchase. The traction control light flashes like a strobe. The car fishtails wildly, knocking down saplings, bouncing over rocks. But we are moving. We are tearing through the forest, carving a path where none existed.
I look in the mirror. The pursuit SUV missed the turn. They shot past us on the highway. By the time they brake and turn around, we will be ghosts in the woods.
I drive for ten minutes. Twenty. The logging road is brutal. The car groans and creaks, suspension bottoming out. Finally, the road widens into a clearing. There is a structure. Not a glass house. Not a mansion. An old hunting cabin. Log walls. Tin roof. Smoke coming from the chimney? No. No smoke. It’s abandoned.
I stop the car. The silence rushes back in, ringing in my ears. I turn to Alaric. "We made it," I say, my voice cracking. "Alaric, we made it."
He doesn't answer. His head is slumped against the window. His skin is waxy, blue-white in the dashboard light. The towel on his shoulder is saturated, dripping onto the console. He isn't moving.
"No," I whisper. I unbuckle. I reach over and grab his face. "No, no, no. You don't get to die. You promised to ruin me, remember? You haven't finished the job!"
I slap his cheek. lightly. Then harder. "Wake up!"
His eyelids flutter. Silver irises appear, dull and clouded. "Elodie..."
"We're here. I need you to walk. Just one more time."
"Can't," he whispers. "Too... heavy."
"You are not heavy!" I scream at him, grabbing his jacket and shaking him. "You are the Director! You are the King! Get up!"
He looks at me. He sees the blood on my hands. He sees the fire in my eyes. A faint smile touches his bloody lips. "You look... beautiful... when you're terrified."
"I'm not terrified," I sob. "I'm angry. Get up, or I will drag you."
I get out of the car. I run to his side. I open the door. He falls out, collapsing into my arms. I buckle under his weight, my knees hitting the snow. We are tangled together on the frozen ground.
"Leave me," he murmurs into the snow. "Hide in the cabin. There's a... cellar."
"Shut up," I grunt, hooking my arms under his armpits. "I killed a man today. I drove off a cliff. I am not leaving you in a snowbank."
I pull. I scream with the effort. My boots slip. My back screams. But I move him. Inch by inch. I drag him toward the cabin door. A trail of red follows us, staining the virgin snow.
Red on white.It looks like the roses he sent to my dressing room after the recital.Red on white.It looks like the keys of the piano after I smashed my fingers.
I reach the door. I kick it open. It’s dark inside. Smells of mold and old wood. I drag him in. I kick the door shut.
We are safe. For now.
I collapse next to him on the dusty floorboards. I check his pulse. It is thready. Fast. A bird fluttering against a cage. He is bleeding out. I have the med kit in the car. But I don't have blood. I can't give him blood.
I need to cauterize it. Or pressure it. I rip the hem of my shirt. I press it into the wound. He doesn't even flinch. That’s bad. That’s very bad.
"Alaric," I whisper, leaning my forehead against his cold damp one. "Don't leave me alone. Not now. Not when I finally understand the music."
He breathes out. A long, rattling exhale. "Play..." he whispers. "Play for me..."
And then he goes still. He’s not dead. I can feel the faint beat. But he’s gone. Into the dark.
I am alone in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. With a dying man. And an army coming for us.
I look at his gun belt. The MP5. The SIG Sauer. I check the ammo. I have two magazines left.
I sit up. I wipe the tears from my face with a bloody hand, leaving streaks of war paint on my skin. I look at the door. Let them come. Let the "Buyer" come. Let the world come.
I am Elodie Fray. I am the Director's Muse. And I am going to burn this whole forest down before I let them touch him.
CHAPTER 17
