Immortal Sacrifice: #4 The Curse of the Templars (30 page)

Chapter
29

C
aradoc’s world swayed for the second time in less than an hour. He stared at Isabelle, unable to believe he had heard her correctly. But the pleading quality of her gaze conveyed truths he did not wish to know. Ignoring the lingering ache in his body, he pushed himself upright and cupped her cheek in his palm. “What do you mean he has September?”

She sniffled, took a moment to collect herself.
Her voice rang flat and distant. “Exactly what I said. He took her.” With another sniffle, her shoulders trembled. “If I don’t bring him the necklace, he’ll kill her.”

Unable to tolerate the sight of her suffering, Caradoc urged her into his arms.
“Explain. Mayhap there is another answer.”

Isabelle answered with a furious shake of her head.
“There isn’t. He killed Rosa already.” Her voice broke again, and she put a fist to her mouth to stifle a sob.

Rosa
? Caradoc’s brow pulled into a frown. He knew no Rosa. Yet a man who would murder to prove a point, did not bode well for a defenseless child. That Paul Reid held such an interest in the necklace, the very same relic the archangels required, stirred deep foreboding.

He urged Isabelle’s head to his shoulder and smoothed her hair.
Hysterics would get them nowhere. If he was to find a way to solve this mess, he needed the entire story. The archangels might not be able to stop Azazel, but they had been known to intervene on a child’s behalf before. Mayhap he could request aid from Raphael. “Start at the beginning, Isabelle. Who is Rosa?”

For several moments, she trembled in his arms.
Her tears wetted his chest, making it difficult to focus. The dampness did not bother him, ’twas the cause for it that gave him difficulty. Isabelle did not deserve such pain.

As her tears slowed, she wrapped her arms around his waist.
An unsteady breath washed over his bare shoulder. “Paul hired me to bring back the necklace. Rosa is September’s nanny, was mine as well. The first night I arrived here, he took September and told me he’d killed Rosa.”

“He said that outright?”

“No.” Straightening her shoulders, she edged out of his embrace and wiped at her tears with the back of her wrist. “He said she had an
accident.
His meaning was clear.” She took a long breath, expelled it hard. “He won’t let me talk to September, and someone here’s watching me.”

“Watching you?”

“Yes. Paul knows what I’ve bought within seconds of it happening.”

The dread rolling around in Caradoc’s belly took on more weight.
Suspicion he did not wish to consider lifted the hairs on the nape of his neck. Nevertheless, the name rose all the same—
Declan.
Caradoc had witnessed Declan following Isabelle; Tane had mentioned Declan’s interest in Isabelle’s bidding. What his brother wanted from Isabelle, Caradoc could not fathom, but Declan’s recent behavior did not speak well of his intentions.

“Yesterday…”
Isabelle’s voice broke, and she paused to breathe once more. “Yesterday Paul told me he’d brought September here. He’s wants me to bring the necklace to him.”

Unexplainably, she burst into tears once more, and her words clogged together into an incomprehensible strain.
Caradoc waited, rubbing his thumbs over the back of her hands in silent encouragement.

After several never-ending moments, she grabbed at her composure with visible difficulty and swallowed down the last of her sobs.
With steely determination in her voice, she added the last detail he needed to become convinced Azazel was behind the nightmare.

“He told me to bring the necklace to the
Villa Valguarnera
tonight. That’s the name on the tomb in my nightmare.”

It required effort to keep the repulsion from twisting his mouth into a grimace.
Her nightmare was no mere prediction of demons, but a product of the dark lord’s unholy orchestrations. If Isabelle went there alone, she would indeed find her daughter dead. And she would suffer a worse fate. Azazel would have his intended new mate, and Isabelle would know torture worse than anything Caradoc had survived once he discovered her seraph’s status.

Yet with Declan about, little could convince Caradoc that Azazel did not already know.
Caradoc had betrayed her without even being aware he had. Worse, if her claims that he had sired September held any truth at all, Azazel would never allow the child to live.

’Twas unthinkable to allow Isabelle to go after September alone.
’Twas even more unthinkable to allow her to sacrifice the tears and hand that power over to Azazel.

He must intercede, and he knew only one means of success.
Gripping her hands tight, he peered into her watery gaze. “Isa, do you trust me?”

* * *

Did she trust him? Gut instinct screamed
yes
. Without a doubt Caradoc would never physically harm her, would never intentionally wound her. But there was still the question of what would happen when September became a subject he couldn’t ignore. Would he stay, regardless? Would his disinterest in children force him away again? She hesitated, unable to admit she trusted him to not break her heart a second time.

When she didn’t immediately respond, his grip on her fingers turned painful.
Urgency crept into his voice. “I know I caused you pain, Isabelle, but do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she said slowly.
“But what does that have to do with anything?”

Releasing her hands, he slid off the bed, tugged on his lightweight pants, then crossed to the small closet where he opened the door and crouched before something on the floor inside.
“Because we are going to retrieve September together.”

“You can’t!”
The objection flew off her lips as a whole new set of horrors threatened to send her heart through her ribs. “Paul said specifically
you
weren’t welcome.”

He gave her the merest of glances, accompanied by a one-shoulder shrug.
“I would expect no less. He cannot have the necklace, and so we shall retrieve September forcibly.”

“Caradoc, no!”
Isabelle shot to her feet. Anger crept into her veins, overcoming the rush of fear. “She’s a child. You might not give a damn that she’s
yours
, but she’s
mine,
and I won’t let you jeopardize her safety. She’s worth more than a damn necklace!”

His voice rang quiet, but deadly all the same.
“She is not. None of us—”

“You son of a bitch!”
Bending over she stood her high heels upright and stuffed her feet inside. “I should have known you’d never find compassion for a child. But no, I let you delude me into thinking you might accept both September and me.” She reached for her bag, stomped across the room.

Caradoc took one massive stride sideways and intercepted her at the door.
Right arm extended, he pointed a broadsword at her chest. One fraction of a step forward, and that deadly tip would pierce her breast. Her gaze followed the length of the sharp blade, across his whitened knuckles, up his arm, and higher to the firm, hard line of his jaw.

She couldn’t recall ever seeing him truly angry before.
But the hard glint in his eyes, the touch of color that darkened his cheeks, said she was witnessing barely controlled fury.

“Sit.
Down
. Isabelle.”

The harsh tone of his voice left no room for objection.
She backed up a step.

“On the bed and cease your protests.
September may not be
my
child, but she is
yours.
I will swear myself to her as certainly I swear myself to you. Do not accuse me of being heartless.” He turned his wrist, and the broadsword caught the light. The gleam of polished steel declared the sword’s lethal design. “If I were, I would leave you here and take the tears without regret. As you can see, I am quite capable of incapacitating you, if such were my desire.”

Oh.
Her knees hit the edge of the mattress, and she stumbled to sit. Wide-eyed, she watched his deliberate approach, absorbing the full weight of truth. He could easily overpower her and hadn’t. True, he hadn’t let her leave, but he hadn’t
incapacitated
her. Above all, he’d just admitted aloud that he intended to accept September. Maybe not as
his
, but in his life.

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
Caradoc, who didn’t want children, was saying he’d accept September. “You mean that? That you’d let her into your heart?”

The fury left his face, and the warm light returned to his eyes.
“Aye, Isa. She is part of you—how can I not?”

Dumbfounded, she couldn’t think of anything to say.
Warily, she eyed his lowered sword. “So what are you doing with that?”

Caradoc closed the distance remaining between them and dropped to one knee in front of her.
He gestured at her right arm, where beneath her blouse she wore the brass armband. “Give me the serpents.”

“Really, Caradoc, we don’t have time for this.
They’re auctioning the necklace in an hour.”

“Give me the armband, Isa,” he repeated more firmly.
“We waste time by arguing.”

Isabelle let out an exasperated sigh and unbuttoned her cuff.
She slid her hand beneath the white linen, gave the tight band of brass a firm tug, and drew it off her arm. Resisting the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes and demand he to hurry, she set the torc in his open palm. “Okay, now what?”

“Now, you shall listen.”

Great. More words. She glanced futilely at the door. By the time they got to Shapiro’s, they have minutes to find a seat before the auctioneer presented the necklace.

“Do you believe the things I have told you?
My curse, my purpose—what I am?”

“Yes.”
She couldn’t keep the frustration out of her throat. Every minute he wasted put September in greater jeopardy. And everything he said distracted her from discovering a way to divert him from this awful plan of going with her to meet Paul. She gave him a terse frown. “Can’t we do this later?”

“Nay.”

“Caradoc, we don’t have
time.
How many times do I have to say this? I’ve got to have that necklace. Can’t you tell me what you’ve got in mind while we drive to Shapiro’s?”

It was Caradoc’s turn to be exasperated.
He muttered beneath his breath. His eyebrows formed a tight, bunched line. “
Nay.
”