in the thigh with it. Raj’s eye’s flew open as his heart began to race.
“I want you to be fully awake.” Cristos smiled. “Fully aware of the pain as you die.”
Suddenly, the twin doors exploded open. Cristos spun around, a pistol instantly in hand aimed at the intruder. But he did what he swore he would never do again. He hesitated, for he was looking into the eyes of Nadia.
And despite her unforgivable betrayal, his heart still skipped at the sight of her. Cristos had declared his heart dead, replacing the pain and hollowness with rage and vengeance, but that all melted away as his eyes fell upon Nadia.
She raced to Raj, taking him in her arms, screaming in agony as she looked at the carnage around her.
“What have you done?” she cried, the same words she had said four months earlier. She glanced at what was left of her father and nearly retched. Turning her attention back to Raj, she pressed her hand on his wounded stomach, trying to stop the bleeding.
Cristos just stared at her, momentarily losing all focus.
“How could you do this after everything I did for you?” Nadia openly wept. “I stopped Raj from killing you. I kept my father and the prime minister from seeking you out. I paid for your hospital, your care. I watched over you while you were in a medically induced coma.”
Cristos’s head began to spin, once again not knowing what to believe. Riley was very clear that the only reason he was alive was that the fire alarm had gone off and that Raj and Nadia needed to escape before they were seen. Riley said he was paying for his treatment, that his government, in conjunction with the British, was paying.
“I’m so sorry for what I did to you.” Her words flooded out on heavy breaths. “I panicked when I saw you killing Raj, I lost my mind and threw that oil. I can’t imagine the pain you must have endured. I haven’t slept since that night. Can’t you understand? This is my world. This is where I belong.”
Cristos began to panic; all logic, all reason, had left his mind as he fell under Nadia’s spell once again. “Come away with me. I can-”
“Go away with you?” she screamed. “You’re a monster. How could you do this? My father, the prime minister…”
She turned and looked at Raj. His eyes had fallen shut, his breathing coming in fits and starts as he slowly began to die.
“You’ve taken everything from me. Get out. Get out!”
“Raj said that-Riley said-”
“Who said what? You listen to everyone except yourself. What does your heart tell you, what does your instinct tell you?”
Cristos could see the truth in her eyes… and feel it in his heart. She was right. He was trained to listen to his instincts, and yet he had tucked them away, chosen to ignore them when they had been his guide for his whole life.
Cristos reached down, offering her his hand.
Nadia picked up the bejeweled dagger, pointing it at him. “Stay away from me.”
“Nadia…”
“I have nothing. You’ve taken it all from me.”
Cristos could see the despair in her eyes, her body shaking, on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He had come there seeking vengeance, bringing death, and succeeded in his task. But he had been manipulated by all: Nadia, Raj, Riley. He was truly just a pawn in their games. And while his heart had burned with Nadia’s betrayal, looking at her now, he couldn’t bring himself to harm her, for he realized that he still loved her in spite of everything.
“Please, you don’t understand…” he said as he reached out for her.
Nadia stepped back, finally looking at her father, the prime minister, and Raj.
And without warning, without a single word, she looked Cristos in the eye and plunged the dagger into her own chest.
The open-air jeep raced up the mountainside, under the canopy of night, the thick leaves allowing only shards of moonlight to penetrate. In the valley below, a sudden explosion lit up the night as the prime minister’s vacation home was torn to shreds, an enormous fireball engulfing it and the remaining guests inside.
Cristos white-knuckled the steering wheel, his eyes darting between the road and Nadia, who lay motionless across the backseat, the dagger protruding from her chest.
He had nowhere else to turn. He had abandoned his culture, his people, his father, but now they were the only ones he could turn to to save the woman he loved.
Five miles up the dirt road, the hard-packed surface abruptly ended as if it had been swallowed by nature. He grabbed Nadia off of the seat, careful to avoid touching the dagger, and carried her into the jungle, still knowing the path better than anyone. The long, twisting trail meandered through the thick foliage, over rocks and streams, up a five-mile slope whose grade never diminished.
It would be at least another hour before he reached the village. He feared that he was already too late when two Cotis priests stepped out of the dark jungle, members of the Tietien council. Hovath had schooled him in martial arts and weaponry, while Prunaj had taught him of spirituality and the jungle. Each-uncharacteristic for the Cotis people-carried a sidearm on his hip. Without a word, they flanked him.
And Cristos’s father stepped from the cover of the foliage.
Father and son locked eyes, a world of emotions exchanged without a word.
“You cannot come back.”
“You have to save her,” Cristos pleaded.
His father looked at the girl, her body limp in his son’s arms. “Save her for herself or save her for you?”
“Please,” Cristos begged. “Bring her back.”
He laid her down on the ground, gently stroking her dark hair from her face.
“Does she wish to live?” his father asked. “Or have you taken away what she lives for?”
His father knew what he had done.
“Bring her back!” Cristos exploded in rage.
“I know what you’ve become,” his father said softly. “My whole life, I fought it. Although I knew it to be your future, I had clung to hope. But fate sometimes is stronger than any force. The shadow hidden within you has emerged and consumed your heart and soul.”
“You don’t understand-”
“I do understand. I should have stopped you before all of this death. I foresaw your future but allowed my heart to fall into denial, questioning the future as some question the past.”
“I love her.” Cristos’s voice cracked. “You have to help me.”
“After what you have done-” his father said with pain filled eyes. “You will be followed; you will bring the outside world to us again. We cannot afford to protect you. We cannot allow our ways to be investigated so they may build a case to convict you.”
Prunaj and Hovath stepped forward, pulling and raising their pistols. They were trained on Cristos, and, anticipating his every move, they stayed just beyond his reach. Cristos’s emotions vanished, his eyes falling on Hovath.
“We must turn you over to the authorities of the outside world,” his father continued as Cristos kept staring at Hovath. “Please do not-”
And without warning, with his eyes locked with Hovath’s, Cristos drove his fist into his father’s gut, the immense blow knocking him sideways toward Hovath.
Cristos spun left, snatching the gun from Prunaj, continuing his motion up and into the priest’s neck, crushing his larynx with the butt of the pistol. Prunaj fell to the ground, unable to breathe.
As he was taught so well, Cristos could feel Hovath’s approach, could sense his finger wrapping the trigger. He feigned left and spun, firing Prunaj’s gun, the bullet hitting Hovath’s wrist, crippling his hand as the gun fell to the ground.
With no regard for his mangled wrist, Hovath dived at Cristos, and although he was his teacher, skilled in hand-to-hand combat, the student had surpassed him long ago. Cristos caught Hovath by the shoulder, rolling toward the ground, taking his teacher with him as his arm wrapped around the man’s neck. And as they hit the jungle floor, Hovath’s neck snapped from their combined weight.
