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He blinked at her, and his hand snaked out to grasp hers, pulling her closer to him. He needed to
connect with her inner light, with the hope that shone from her violet eyes, as his world steadily
engulfed him in bleakness. The hotel had been set to open, the preview gala was behind them; it was all
supposed to be smooth sailing from here. But now, this had happened. They couldn t open the doors to
any more guests until the safety codes were met. That could take forever, at this rate.
Remy? Gillian s voice was a whisper, her eyes filled with worry. Remy, talk to me. Please.
Tell me what you want.
A wave of illness followed shock, and he trembled with fatigue and frustration. She wanted to
know what he wanted? He laughed bleakly. What he wanted had never been more simple in his life.
He wanted her. He wanted to feel her warm skin against his, to bury himself in her sunshine soul and
retreat from this dark, ugly world he d entered. She alone could save him from this curse, with the light
in her heart.
Tugging gently, he brought her into his arms, hugging her close as he bent his head to murmur
against her ear, I need you, Gillian. Stay with me.
She clung to him for a long moment, as if she couldn t bear to let go, and his heart leapt with
newfound hope. Then, with a small noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob, she tore herself from his
arms and turned away.
I can t stay, Remy, she whispered, her words shattering the hope that had built in his heart.
Nothing s changed& No, that s not exactly right, either. One thing s changed the danger s getting
worse.
Too much danger, not enough thrill? The quip fell flat, even as it left his mouth, his tone too
strangled by the reality of Gillian walking away. If she went, everything that kept him sane would go
with her. He was no longer afraid to admit that the dark night of his mind terrified him.
Remy, I
Wow! That s some bad luck, boss! The sudden insertion of a new voice jarred them both
from their private little world, and they both turned toward Etienne, who was climbing from his car, an
almost gleeful sparkle in his eyes as he studied the still-spiraling curl of dark smoke.
Gillian shuddered as she watched Etienne s face. He looked suitably concerned, except for that
sadistic gleam in his dark eyes. Suspicion curled inside her, refusing toremain silent.
What are you doing here? She demanded, whirling on him fiercely.
I have a police scanner, he said with a negligent shrug. I heard the call going out, and thought
I better show up and see if my help was needed. He met her gaze head-on, and she saw a spark of
malice in his eyes. I guess I don t have to ask why you re not tucked up cozily in your little cottage, do
I?
Intrigue 72
His icy, malicious eyes ran over her, and Gillian felt suddenly dirty, a chill washing through her
even as Remy stiffened in rage. Why, you
Gillian held up a hand, silencing Remy, and turned a saccharine smile on Etienne. Whatever he
claimed, her gut told her Etienne had started that fire. She just wasn t sure she could ever prove it.
Well, since it was in the east wing of the building, I guess it s safe to assume my cooking
wasn t responsible. Forget to check your computer when you left, Etienne?
He snapped upright, as if she d struck him physically, and glared down his nose at her. Are you
implying that I had something to do with this?
Her eyes went pointedly to his right shoulder, where a thin line of red dots was seeping through
the material of his white shirt. You seem to have hurt yourself. Get that racing to the rescue, did you?
She felt Remy stiffened again behind her, and heard his outraged gasp. She wondered what was
so significant about the cut on Etienne s shoulder.
Turning on his heel without another word, Etienne hurried back to his car, and Gillian turned
back to Remy, only to find him literally shaking with suppressed rage.
Remy? What is it?
He glared after Etienne for a long moment, and then shook himself, turning his gaze blandly to
her. Nothing, cherie. I just remembered something.
Remy, she warned, planting her hands on her hips. Don t try that evasion technique on me. I
know something about Etienne s wound bothered you. Now, what is it?
He sighed heavily. I guess it s not going to suddenly make you want to leave, he said
sardonically. The intruder and I fought, earlier. I shot him& well, grazed him, really, with my pistol.
Across the right shoulder. You don t suppose&
The words, and the doubt in his voice, filled Gillian with dread. She d known Etienne was bad
news from the first day she d arrived at Scarlet Oak Manor. Six years of dodging bullies had given her a
sixth sense about men like Etienne Fabron. But why would he attack Remy, and why try to burn down
the Manor? There just wasn t a logical answer. She had a sinking feeling that the answers to those
questions came with very deadly price tags.
* * *
She knew. Somehow, that nosy little bitch had figured him out. She d taken one look at him and
known he d set that fire. And she d seen the blood. Damn Terreau and his gun, anyway! Etienne eased
the shirt off, and reached his good hand to his injured shoulder, where blood soaked through the
bandage. He hadn t gone to the hospital, though he supposed he should have. Problem was, they were
required to report gunshot wounds, and he couldn t tell anyone how he d got shot. Terreau had likely
reported the matter to the authorities, already.
As he pulled his hand away, his dark eyes fixed on the sheen of blood coating his fingertips.
Terreau would pay, drop for drop, for the blood he drew. Etienne brought his fingers to his lips, slowly
savoring the taste of blood. The time was coming when Terreau would be his slave. But first& First,
he had to set his snare. Tonight, what had merely been a nightmare for Terreau would become reality.
Etienne was through playing games.
Rising from the damp ground, he discarded the blood-stained shirt and reached toward the
candle-covered altar. A jar of chalky paint in hand, he stepped back and, dipping his bloody fingers into
the jar, began painting, with methodical strokes, on his bare chest and face. One more ritual, before he
claimed his slave, and his revenge. He knew that Terreau was Susannah Forrester s contact on this side.
If Susannah s spirit was captured, she d cry out to Terreau for help, until either she drove him crazy, or
he felt compelled to come to her aid. Either was, he d be stepping right into Etienne s trap.
Esther Mitchell 73
Etienne drew out the capped hypodermic needle from the pocket of his black pants, a sinister
smile creeping over his face. It only took a drop of the victim s blood to power the poppet. When he d
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