“I did some research into your family.”
Her heart nearly stopped beating and by the look on his face, she knew she didn’t want to hear what he had to say.
“You were adopted—”
“No!” She tore herself away from him, yanking the chain out of his hand. The fragile links broke and the key slithered through the severed chain to land on the ground.
“I’m sorry,” Christien said softly, knowing he was tearing her world apart, breaking her down piece by piece.
“You’re lying.”
Her pain was his pain and he wished to God he didn’t have to do this to her, but she had to understand running from him wasn’t the answer. She was as much a part of this as he was. “Ah, Madelaine. I would never lie to you.”
She swallowed, her eyes bright with unshed tears. And still he had more to tell her, more that would destroy her and shatter everything she knew about herself and her family. He hated himself for what he was doing even if it was necessary.
“Your birth mother and father were killed in a car crash while you were still inside her womb. The doctors were able to save the baby.” He touched her cheek. “You, Madelaine. You were adopted by the Alexanders when you were but days old.”
She shook her head, loosening the tears clinging tenaciously to her lashes. He thought of her father in the nursing home, of her need to take care of the man who raised her as his own. Her face was twisted into disbelief and a sliver of fear raced through him. Would she ever forgive him for destroying her world?
He wished he had the ability to snatch the words out of the air, to not have to tell her the truth of her lineage. His only hope was that one day she would forgive him and understand the necessity. In the meantime he would die a thousand deaths knowing how much he hurt her.
“Your family lineage goes back a long way. A very long way. To biblical times.” He’d been shocked and awed to discover her ancestry and immediately knew he had to protect it at all cost.
“No,” she whispered, but this denial wasn’t as forceful as the others.
“The key isn’t a piece of silver,” he said. “The key is you. Your bloodline.”
She pressed a fist to her mouth and slowly sank to the ground as if her legs couldn’t hold her anymore.
He crouched before her, brushing her hair from her face. She cringed from him, breaking his heart all over again. He was destroying everything they built together and he wasn’t finished yet.
“There is more.”
She shook her head, her eyes wide and pleading for him to stop.
“There is another like you, Madelaine. You were a twin.”
A strangled gasp made its way around the fist still pressed to her mouth.
“I haven’t been able to locate her but I’m trying, using every resource at my disposal. We will find her, I promise.” He had to find her and protect her as much as he had to protect Madelaine.
Her eyes were dull, as if her mind was shutting down with too much information too fast. Christien tried to put on a brave face when inside he felt anything but brave. He was scared to death he’d crushed the best thing that had happened to him in over seven hundred years.
“So you see, Madelaine. You cannot leave me. You can’t run from me. You are needed because you are the key. I am as devoted to protecting you as I am to the treasure.”
Chapter Twenty
Lainie wandered through the cavernous house like a ghost flitting through the shadows. Insubstantial. Grounded one minute, floating the next.
Everything she’d known, everything she’d been, was wiped out. Gone. She wasn’t Lainie Alexander anymore. She didn’t know who she was.
She avoided Christien simply because she didn’t know what to say to him and didn’t know how to ease the desperation in his eyes when she was barely able to handle her own.
She didn’t blame him for telling her about her past—he did what he had to—but she had moments when she desperately wished he kept the information to himself.
“Madelaine?”
She turned from the library window where she’d been staring blindly out. Christien stood in the doorway, questions she didn’t want to answer swirling in the steel depths of his eyes. He wanted to know where they went from here, but how did she answer that when she had no idea where she was coming from? How could she give of herself when she didn’t know who she was anymore? How was she supposed to act now that she knew they weren’t two people loving each other but two people who could possibly start the Apocalypse?
“Are you hungry? You haven’t eaten all day,” he said.
“I’m fine.” But they both knew that was a lie.
He stepped into the room and hesitated, as though he didn’t know if he were welcome. She didn’t encourage him to come closer. It wasn’t that she loved Christien less or that she was angry at him. She was neither. Since learning of her adoption and Christien’s true purpose in life, she found herself growing colder and colder. As if she were encased in ice. And she had no idea how to thaw herself or even if she wanted to. The ice kept the bigger emotions at bay, the clawing fear and despair of discovering she wasn’t who she thought she’d been for nearly thirty years. And the hurt of knowing she wasn’t an Alexander after all.
“Is there anything I can do?”
She shook her head, hating that she was hurting him, but not knowing what else to do. Comfort, to give or receive, was beyond her right now. She was lucky to draw her next breath and take her next step without shattering.
His lips thinned. The skin around his eyes was pinched and gray. He hadn’t slept much more than she. In the dark of the night she’d heard him moving around upstairs, felt his concern for her and still she didn’t go to him.
He looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself. Quietly, he turned and left. She went back to looking out the window, the beautiful countryside nothing but a blur.
However, a restlessness inside her wouldn’t allow her to stay still for long, so she headed outside. The breeze was warm, the heady scent of the lavender bushes on either side of the massive front door a balm to her shattered soul.
The gravel drive crunched beneath her booted feet. The noon sun, high in the sky, warmed her shoulders, but didn’t touch the ice around her heart. She had no destination in mind, but it was as if her heart had its own purpose and she found herself tracing the path to Madelaine’s grave. She needed to be near the woman she’d come to know in her dreams. The woman she’d been centuries ago. In some ways she felt more connected to that woman than herself.
Poor Christien. What agony he must have felt when he returned to find her dead. And yet he’d carried on. Not only that, but he’d undertaken a huge mission to transport the treasure to Scotland, away from King Philip and the men rounding up and torturing the other Knights. Knights Christien fought alongside and broke bread with. What had it been like to be on the run for so long, alone and scared and hurting? He’d lost Madelaine, his brothers, the life he’d known. And yet, he’d believed enough to keep going, to trudge through countries, over oceans and into distant lands, knowing he was being hunted. Against all odds, he persevered. She couldn’t help but compare his plight to what she was going through now and note the parallels. She lost the life she’d known and the family she thought was hers but really wasn’t.
If Christien could do it then, she could do it now.
She believed. In her heart—in her blood—she knew what Christien said to be true. They’d lived another life together. He truly was the keeper of the treasure and evil forces were after him.
Giselle and Lucheux.
In a weird, twisted sort of way it all made sense.
Funny how she so readily accepted that and yet had a hard time believing she had a sister.
All her life she wanted a sibling, had begged her parents for one when she was younger. They’d told her she was all they needed. When she was older she’d come to accept there would be no siblings. She’d been a miracle to an older coup
le who struggled with infertility their entire marriage, and they were happy with the daughter God gave them. She’d given up the campaign for siblings but never the wish.
And now she had her wish and she didn’t know what to do with it.
A sister.
A twin.
A sibling who carried the same blood as her. Blood that reached all the way back to biblical times if Christien were to be believed.
Lainie trudged up a hill, winded, the sun heating her back.
While she prowled the house last night, wide awake, her mind whirling, she’d stumbled across Christien’s office. Without the least bit of remorse, she booted up his computer and started asking Google questions. What she found prompted more questions.
According to the Bible, the seals could only be broken by The Lion of Judah. Biblical scholars believed the Lion of Judah could refer to a prince of the blood of Christ.
No one was clear on what or who the prince of the blood of Christ was. But Christien seemed to believe she was worthy enough. That she was the key to opening those seals, to releasing the horsemen who would destroy the earth. War, famine, death, conquest. You couldn’t get more Apocalyptic than that.
If this were true she was even more convinced she needed to disappear. But she couldn’t disappear now that there was another one out there with her blood. A sister. What was her name? What had her life been like? Did she know of Lainie’s existence? A thrill of anticipation raced through her.
Lainie stopped to catch her breath and lean against a large tree trunk. She lifted her face to the sun. Occasionally she’d hear small animals rustling through the dead leaves and brush, reminding her she wasn’t totally alone.
Except she should have stumbled across the cemetery by now.
Biting her lip, she pushed down the alarm tingling up her spine. She wasn’t lost. She was…somewhere on Christien’s land. She had to be because he told her he owned as far as the eye could see. She just had to backtrack and find out where she took a wrong turn.
Except she couldn’t remember where she’d come from. Everything was starting to look the same. There was no break in the trees, no path, no sign with an arrow that said Castle This Way.
She huffed out a breath.
Which way? Damn it, she should have told Christien she was going for a walk instead of wandering away by herself. Don’t panic, this is the twenty-first century. You’re not in the middle of some medieval forest. Eventually you’ll run across someone.
The skin on the back of her neck prickled and she went still. Her muscles tensed. Slowly she turned her head to the right, then the left. Except for an occasional red squirrel rooting through the bushes, no one else seemed to be in the woods. She blew out a slow breath to calm her racing heart.
She was being paranoid. Nothing there.
But the feeling of being watched persisted, so strong the small hairs on her arm stood on end. She felt eyes boring into her back, making her skin itch like a thousand ants crawling up her spine.
Heart pounding, she pushed away from the tree and peered through the dense forest.
“Christien?” Had he followed her? Was he even now watching over her?
No answer.
Maybe he was angry at her for pushing him away and didn’t want to answer. In her heart, though, she knew that wasn’t true. Christien wouldn’t act like a petulant child, but even so she said, “I’m sorry about this morning. I just needed to get my head on straight. You can come out. I won’t bite, I promise.” She smiled, but the smile slowly faded when her only answer was the frantic beating of a woodpecker’s beak against an unsuspecting tree.
She started walking, deliberately slowing her steps when all she wanted to do was run. She would not give in to this paranoia.
Straining to hear any sound other than the normal forest sounds, she picked her steps carefully, trying not to make much noise, but she didn’t do a very good job.
The farther she walked, the more intense her fear became. She had no idea in which direction she was heading.
The crunch of leaves behind her had her whipping her head around on a gasp of fear. A shadow flitted behind a tree. Lainie stilled, her eyes darting around, her heart beating so hard she barely heard anything above it. Her fingers twitched in a burst of adrenaline and she had to consciously tell herself to remain still.
She waited for what seemed like a long time but was probably only a minute. The birds were still chirping. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? Didn’t birds sense danger?
She started walking again, looking over her shoulder every few steps.
A few minutes later she stumbled upon a small clearing that didn’t look at all familiar. How long had she walked? How far was she from the castle?
A shadow stepped out of the trees in front of her. Lainie froze like a rabbit caught in the crosshairs.
Run, her mind screamed, but her legs remained stubbornly still.
“What are you doing here?” she managed to ask.
“Oh, I think you know.” Usually perfectly coiffed, Giselle’s hair hung in greasy clumps around a face pinched with hatred.
Lainie’s heart thundered. She swiveled on her boot heel and took off running, her legs pumping, her arms swinging. She had a chance if she could make it to the trees. She’d hide in the shadows, use the underbrush for cover. She’d climb a damn tree if she had to.
Suddenly Lainie was yanked back by her hair. Pain erupted in her scalp and she screamed, the sound quickly cut off when Giselle’s hand pressed over her mouth. She tasted salty skin and dirt but it didn’t stop her from clamping down on the fleshy part of Giselle’s palm and drawing blood.
Giselle swore. Efficiently, and embarrassingly easily, she swept Lainie’s legs out from under her. Lainie landed on the soft pine needles with an oomph. The breath rushed out of her, leaving her panting on the ground like a fish out of water. She groaned. Her tailbone felt as if it’d snapped in half.
Giselle loomed over her, a manic light in her eyes that had Lainie’s terror skyrocketing. She dug her elbows and heels into the soft dirt and scooted back.
Giselle planted her hands on her hips. “You couldn’t stay dead, could you?”
Lainie rolled onto her hands and knees. She screamed Christien’s name as she lunged to her feet but Giselle’s body slammed into hers, knocking her over, cutting her screams short.
“Damn you,” Giselle hissed into her ear. “Every time I get close to what I want, you appear. What is it with you?”
Lainie gasped, her lungs paralyzed, fighting to function again. Giselle lay on top of her, her weight pressing Lainie down.
“You were only meant to be a diversion,” Giselle said. “Yet you couldn’t even do that. No.” She drew the word out and not for the first time Lainie wondered at Giselle’s sanity.
“I can’t help that I was reborn,” she gasped, Giselle’s weight suffocating.
Giselle laughed, the sound manic. Her mind has finally cracked. The thought scared Lainie more than anything.
“Being reborn has nothing to do with it. It’s your hold on Lucien. It’s beyond me what he sees in you. I can offer him more but it’s always you he wants.”
Giselle’s words peppered Lainie like bullets, escalating her terror. Did Lucheux want her like he’d wanted the countess? Had his obsession merely lain dormant all these centuries? Lainie shuddered. No way did she want to be the object of his desires again.
“Why can’t you just stay away?” Giselle cried out.
Oily sweat trickled down Lainie’s back. Giselle was going to kill her again because of jealousy. Would this endless cycle never stop?
Her fingers scrabbled for a weapon. A large rock or a stick. Anything to beat Giselle off with. She needed to get out of here and find Christien, to warn him that Giselle had found them. If Giselle was here Lucheux wasn’t far behind. Slowly air leaked back into her lungs and Lainie screamed again but she couldn’t draw in enough air to make much noise. She managed to flip over, her fist swinging,
but Giselle anticipated the strike and blocked it with her forearm.
Her hands went around Lainie’s throat. Visions of Madelaine fighting for her life in a clearing just like this danced before her eyes. She drew her knees up and slammed them into Giselle’s back. Giselle grunted at the force, but didn’t release her hold.
Lainie’s vision dimmed.
No! She was not going to die like this. Not again. She managed to get her hands between Giselle’s arms to break the woman’s hold, but Giselle was tenacious. And strong. Lainie was surprised at how strong the woman was.
She tried to head-butt Giselle in the nose, but Giselle jerked out of the way.
Giselle’s pale lips thinned into a slash of hatred. Her eyes flashed with fury. The muscles in her jaw flexed with the effort it took to squeeze the life out of Lainie.
Lainie’s throat worked convulsively to bring in air. She was going to die in this forest, by this woman’s hands. Again. Giselle obviously didn’t know Lainie was the key to opening the seals. If she did, she wouldn’t be trying to kill her.
Maybe that was a good thing. Then Christien wouldn’t have to worry about protecting her. He could concentrate on only protecting the treasure. Lainie thought of her sister, another out there who probably didn’t know what she was. Would Christien protect her sister?
An overwhelming sadness flooded her. She was never going to meet her sister, never hear Christien’s laugh again. She should have gone to him, talked to him like she wanted to. Now she’d never have the chance.
Chapter Twenty-One
Christien stared at the papers before him, unable to recall what they were about or why they seemed so important days ago. On a surge of anger, he swept them away. What the hell did real-estate contracts matter now? What was the point of acquiring more property, of earning more money when he had no one to share his accomplishments with?
He furrowed his fingers through his hair and blew out a frustrated breath. He wanted to share it with Madelaine, but she was pulling away from him. He didn’t know what to do to stop her other than give her the space her eyes silently begged for even though everything inside him told him not to.
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