The Mistress
“Good plan. Will these books be comedies or tragedies?”
“Both. Just like life.”
“Will I be a hero in your stories? Or the villain?”
“Haven’t decided yet,” Nora confessed. “But I promise you this...I will give you the last laugh.”
“Then that’s all I can ask.”
“And after I give you the last laugh, I’ll put my pen away and I’ll fall asleep. And when I wake up, you and I will be back together. I’ll be fifteen again and you’ll be twenty-nine and it will all start over again—you and I. That’s how I’ll know I’m in heaven.”
“My Little One...”
“I love you,” she said, not able to go on any longer without him hearing those words, without her saying them. “I always loved you. I never once stopped loving you. All those times I said I hated you, I never meant them, not once. I loved every part of you, every secret, every sin. I love what you are and what you do and how you make me feel so scared and so safe all at the same time. God, I wish I had my collar.”
“You don’t need it. I know who you are, who you belong to.”
“I promised you forever.” Nora remembered that day in the police station when it seemed her life would end at age fifteen, and this man, this priest, who said he would save her if she promised to do everything he told her to do forever. Forever, she had said. “Forever isn’t long enough.”
“And I promised you everything in return,” Søren said. Nora looked at the dagger in her hand, the gun at Søren’s head. “I meant it.”
“Enough,” Marie-Laure said. “My feet are getting tired and you’re both starting to bore me. Damon, if she doesn’t kill him in one minute, kill her.”
Nora kissed Søren and he returned the kiss ardently, longingly, deeply, with such love it felt as if he kissed the very heart of her.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered against her lips. “This life is nothing but one blink of God’s eyes. He’ll blink again, and we’ll be back together.”
“Are you sure I’ll go to heaven?”
“Of course. It wouldn’t be heaven without you.”
Marie-Laure reached down and pulled out Søren’s white Roman collar. Brusquely she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it open. Seeing her touching him, baring his chest to the entire room, Nora felt the rightness in what she was about to do. To let any hands other than hands of adoration, devotion and love touch Søren’s body seemed the greatest abomination, the deepest blasphemy, the unforgivable sin. Better to see him die than suffer that indignity. Better for them both to die.
“Now.” Marie-Laure was still standing so close she would feel Søren’s last breath on her feet when he fell.
Nora heard Damon checking his clip.
“Now,” Søren said. “Don’t hesitate, Eleanor. Do it because you love me, as you love me.”
“I do love you,” she said, and knew it might be the last words he ever heard from her. “Forever.”
Nora gripped the handle of the dagger and started to raise it.
She prayed a final prayer.
God...give me good aim and the strength to use it.
In less than the time it took God to blink, it was over.
33
THE KING
The words on the note Søren left him told Kingsley everything he needed to know.
I would have done the same for you.
Kingsley saw the words and believed in them, which is why, even with the woman he loved thousands of miles away and carrying his child, he knew he would have to risk death, risk anything, to save this man who would have risked all to save him.
He drove to Elizabeth’s house at breakneck speed, cursing Søren’s noble, foolish heart the entire way there. He couldn’t waste a moment coming up with a plan or a strategy. He’d either save Søren and Nora or he would die with them.
Once at the house he willed himself to stay calm, stay quiet. He went through the window again but instead of hiding in the pantry, he raced around the house until he found them. At the library door he paused and took a deep breath. He had two guns fully loaded and cocked. He prayed it would be enough.
Peering in the door he saw he wasn’t too late. Nora and Søren were still alive, still breathing, but they both had guns aimed at their heads. And Marie-Laure stood close, staring at them and smiling, smiling and waiting.
Waiting for what?
Kingsley saw it, the knife in Nora’s hand. Marie-Laure was making Nora kill Søren. But Nora wouldn’t do that...not even with a gun to her head. She’d die first before she hurt him. And yet the knife rose higher and higher.
Her hand trembled only a moment before it steadied and she took a quick breath in.
Kingsley raised his gun. The first shot would start the war. If he shot the man at Nora’s back, the man behind Søren could shoot him. Shoot Søren’s guard and Nora would die. Shoot Marie-Laure and they all could die.
He made up his mind in an instant. He had no other choice.
He aimed his gun at Nora.
Part Five
CHECK
34
THE QUEEN
Nora brought the dagger down and at the last moment turned and plunged it deep into Marie-Laure’s thigh. Her scream of shock and pain momentarily confused both Damon and Andrei into inaction. Bullets whirled all around her, bullying the air. Where did they come from? What was happening? She could see nothing. Someone had her trapped, pinned down. She could barely breathe.