There, in front of the carriage, lying next to their dead coachman was Davien. He was in human form once again, in the fancy clothes that he’d worn to the theatre, the same as she. He was covered in blood, but she knew that most of it wasn’t his.
However, the large gash in his right side that was oozing between his fingers definitely was.
“Oh, my God.” Cosette forgot about everything else as she knelt down beside Davien. “You’ve been shot.”
Those dark eyes stared at her. “I thought . . . I told you . . . to wait in . . . the carriage.”
“Yes, well, I suppose I never was very good at doing what I was told. I thought you might have figured that out by now.” She stood up and ripped a large, clean strip of linen from her petticoat. She balled it up and pressed it against his wound, gaining a grimace from him. “You’re losing too much blood. I should go for help. You need a physician.”
He shook his head. “This was a . . . premeditated attack. There will be . . . others to finish the task . . . when they don’t . . . return.”
She was afraid to ask, but she had to know. “Do you think it was the king?”
He shook his head. “No. This was . . . a warning from . . . another source.”
Cosette stilled. “You think ‘the voice’ is actually controlling other people in order to do what I . . . refused to do?”
His gaze was steady. “I’m sure of it.”
She swallowed heavily, and then glanced around, as if there might already be another threat visible in the distance. “Do you know where we are?”
“Just outside of . . . Thiers.”
She clutched her forehead. “We’re just past the city. We’re not even close to Calais. We’re going to miss our ship.”
“I’m certainly not in any shape to . . . fly us home.”
Cosette would have punched him for that remark if she wasn’t so worried. As it was, she considered their options, however slim. She knew that they had to get off of the main road, but not so far that it would drain the rest of his strength and weaken him even more. Then she had to figure out how she was going to remove that bullet before infection set in. Either way, they had to move.
“Do you think you can stand?” she asked.
“I’m not an invalid,” he muttered, as he struggled to a sitting position. He finally made it to his feet, but only after sweat had broke out along his forehead. Already his breathing was labored and he hadn’t taken a single step. Cosette knew this didn’t bode well, but she wasn’t about to leave him behind.
“You can lean on me if you need to,” she said, standing on his opposite side.
“You’ll use any excuse to touch me, won’t you?” His dark eyes twinkled with humor, and the pain he was trying so hard to conceal. “But I can’t say I mind all that much.”
“Just be quiet and walk,” she snapped, although her words weren’t as harsh as they might have been.
The smile he offered was more of a grimace as he threw an arm around her shoulders and they began to make their way across the grass-covered field beyond.
~ ~ ~
“I think that’s a cottage up ahead,” Cosette panted. Dawn had settled over the land about an hour earlier and her eagerness to get somewhere out of sight was foremost on her mind, along with giving Davien some time to rest. She just prayed that he would wake up when his eyes finally closed.
It was a morbid thought to be sure, but even though he did his best to act unaffected, she could tell that the strain of his wound and the blood loss were steadily drawing his strength. Not only that, but the longer that bullet remained lodged in his side, the better his chances that infection would set in.
Blackburn’s dark eyes accessed the area around them. “It looks like a deserted hunting cabin. Let’s hope that’s the case.”
Cosette could have wept in relief. Her shoulders and back ached from carrying Davien’s weight, although she would have never complained. She was just glad that he finally decided that this was a safe enough place that they might stop and rest awhile. They’d passed a cave, tucked out of sight some time ago, but he didn’t trust the looks of it, so they’d moved on.
The moment Cosette shoved open the door of the cottage, she gave a yelp when several unknown varmints went scurrying away to parts unknown. At least, she hoped that was the case and she wouldn’t have to worry that they would make another appearance.
It was obvious that the nearly dilapidated hovel was in desperate need of repair. There were sections of the roof where she could see daylight, and any furniture that might have remained was broken; the leftover pieces of a table and chairs in the corner were good for nothing but firewood now. It would have been a blessing—if she knew for certain that the chimney was even free of debris, which was doubtful.
In this state, it wasn’t fit for an animal—let alone a man in need of medical attention.
But just when Cosette was about to suggest that they keep moving, Davien snapped his fingers and suddenly, the entire place was free of dirt and debris. The roof was repaired and a cheery fire burned in the grate. Even the table and chairs were repaired.
