The beach wasn’t populated. The coast was rocky and the currents too dangerous for bathing. The private stretch of land where she came ashore belonged to a foreigner. The ruins of a once glorious chateau stood next to a giant pine tree.
Panting, she rested her hands on her knees to catch her breath. Her mouth tasted of salt and her limbs ached from exertion, but she only paused for a few seconds before running for the shelter of the dilapidated building.
Joss wasn’t a fool. He’d search the islands, starting with this one since it was closest to where she’d gone overboard. Bono was probably on his way to the helicopter as she was digging around the protruding roots for the box Erwan had mentioned.
A patch of disturbed earth between two roots caught her attention. She found a flat rock and started digging until she hit something hard. The box wasn’t deep. Erwan had left it in a hurry. She pulled it out, brushed off the soil, and lifted the metal lid. Inside was a plastic zip lock bag. Its contents included a passport, money, and a letter from Erwan.
With the worst of her fatigue wearing off, she started feeling the cold, shivering in her wet clothes. She removed the passport with trembling fingers. The name, Cléane de Villiers, was printed next to her photo.
How did Erwan manage to get a false passport? When did he plan all of this? His letter didn’t provide the answers she wanted. It contained a schedule of the trawlers that would pass during the next few weeks, and a message of love, saying he was praying for their safe reunion.
Huddling behind a collapsed wall, Clelia studied the ship roster. The next one passing through the Gulf was on its way to South Africa.
Chapter 22
Despite what Maya and Lann said, Clelia was alive. Joss felt it. Their lives were tied together by an invisible string. Her heartbeat pulsed in his chest as he lay in foreign hotel beds, recalling her face, her voice, and the way her body had felt underneath his as he clutched the quartz pendant with the broken chain in his fist.
After Clelia’s escape, he’d taken leave for the first time since he’d taken command of Cain’s task force. Cain had encouraged the break, no doubt understanding Joss’s feelings for Clelia. After the way he’d behaved, going wilder than a bull with a red flag shoved in his face, his attachment to the witch was undeniable. Joss had asked for three months, saying he wanted to travel for a while, and Cain had granted him five. Four of those precious months had already been wasted. He had little time left.
He understood the irony of not knowing what one had until it was gone only too well. He should’ve just claimed her, the consequences be damned. She belonged to him. She’d always belonged to him, and she’d sealed that deal the night she’d let him inside her body. It was a mistake to let her get away, the worst he’d ever made. He’d set it right if it was the last thing he did. He’d find her, and when he did, he’d never let her go.
Night after night, he lay awake, replaying their reunion over in his mind. The knowledge that she’d witnessed his weakest moment when he’d lost himself at the bottom of a bottle shamed him. Not once had she used it against him. How easy it would’ve been to betray him by confessing to Cain he was nothing but a weakling who seduced innocent girls. She could’ve claimed harassment. If she was anything less than an angel, she would’ve used it to bargain for her freedom, but she kept it to herself while he betrayed her in every imaginable way. He betrayed a love that had started young and spanned many years by taking her hostage, by submitting her to his ghosts, by trading his hauntings for her peace, and by rejecting the redemption she’d offered, but she’d betrayed him too.
Just before Clelia had jumped overboard, they’d witnessed her art. Either it had regressed so far it didn’t come through in her blood or she was a cunning little magician and liar. A coldness had invaded his soul when he’d realized how much danger she was in. That chill had never left. It lived in his heart. She was the prey Lupien was after. Finding Erwan was no longer important. Finding Clelia before Lupien did was the only thing that mattered. He didn’t share his belief that Clelia was alive with anyone. He had a damn good reason for keeping it to himself.
Lupien wouldn’t stop until he had Clelia in his claws. This much Joss had learned from the little information he could dig up on Lupien. Lupien and Cain were similar in one aspect. They were both determined and unstoppable. If Cain discovered Clelia was alive, she’d be hunted by two of the most powerful men in the universe, one wanting to kill her for the good of mankind and the other for evil.
Whoever would get to her first, she was doomed. There was only one way to save her. He had to kill Lupien and claim her to protect her from Cain. In order to steal her art, Lupien would have to turn her heart dark by spoiling her goodness and extinguishing her light. She was inexperienced, a virgin firestarter, and fertile ground for evil predators like Lupien. If Lupien succeeded, not only would he be the most powerful force on the face of the earth, but Clelia would be lost forever.
He tossed and turned, considering his self-assigned mission. Find her. Save her. Make her his. For the first time in his life,
