My Angel (46 page)

"I feared for your safety," he told her. "One more day is all you need endure. I cannot help you. I wish I could. When Alexi returns, he will set this to rights."

If I live that long.
"I will tell him how you've helped," she said.

"No, he will be angry that I did not go against Miss Feodora. I'm afraid for my wife and my children. She threatened to beat them--and put them here. My wife is with child, and my daughter is only two."

Beat them? Women and children?

His voice on the other side of the wall comforted her. Yet he was gone too soon. His words echoed in her mind. She had fallen into a nightmare of an adventure, entered a country that verged on barbarism. An eerie blackness crept into her heart, and she was afraid. Once more she thought of flight, but reminded herself of her vows.

A promise must be kept.

"But at what price, Papa?"

A
promise must be kept, little one. It is sacred.
She heard her father's voice clearly, as if he stood beside her.
But Angela, if that promise means your life, you must make a choice. A good person would forgive under those circumstances.

Alexi will forgive.

Through a chink in one of the solid planks, she saw muted light from the moon. After Yuri left, she made up her mind. She could endure one more day of confinement, one more day without food or water. She would use that time to seek her identity. It would be her vision quest. She would pray to the ancient gods for guidance and strength. She would become one with the earth and look for a sign for her future.

For the first time since the encounter with Feodora, she felt at peace with herself. Once more she could hear her father's voice in her mind. Once again she heard the earth speaking to her.

She sat cross-legged on the dirt floor and closed her eyes. She chanted and prayed, drifting into a strange world where there was no more darkness, where light and beauty filled every space.

She saw a white eagle and knew it was Trey, her half brother, soaring above her, encouraging her. Then she saw a wildcat, knew him to be Dakota. Her friends were with her in this ordeal; whatever she chose to do they would guide her, and they would help her survive.

She had only to listen to the sounds of the earth, the sky and the water.

As time passed and her visions intertwined, one into another, she saw a doe walk from the woods, grazing. The beautiful animal lifted her head and listened. All was quiet until there was a great heaving and crashing through the woods. At the edge of the forest stood a wolf, a magnificent black wolf. He was breathing hard, yet he lifted his head, and his strength overshadowed everything else. Unafraid, the doe watched, in awe of the power and the magnificence of the mighty predator.

On the other side of the forest a white man emerged, a rifle in his hand. He aimed it at the doe. She took flight as shot after shot whizzed past her, and still she ran. Several bullets grazed her back. She bled. The doe was determined not to go down, survival foremost in the animal's thoughts. She ran until she reached cover and hid herself beneath wild berry bushes. The skin upon her back burned, was on fire from the wounds inflicted upon her.

Determined to live, she held still. She became one with the earth.

When the first shots were fired, the wolf let out a tremendous howl of outrage. He charged toward the huntsman, ignoring the bullets and the danger. They fought to the death. The huntsman lay on the ground, dying. The wolf stood over the man for a few minutes, then searched the meadow.

Again he sat and let out an eerie wail that spoke of fear and loneliness--a sound that spoke of betrayal. With the mournful wail, the doe's heart broke.

The door of the shed swung open, and light blinded Angela.

Her dreams had been put to an end. Angela knew the doe was supposed to be her, the wolf Alexi, and the huntsman Feodora. Feodora was a deadly enemy. Angela should take grave care.

Feodora stepped inside. For the first time in Angela's life, she understood hate and knew her life was in danger. If she chose to stay, she would have to watch everything she said and did. One misstep could well mean her life.

The doe had chosen to run, and Angela knew, deep in her heart, she would eventually be forced to run as well, to break her sacred promise to Alexi.

Feodora stood in the open door, the sun at her back. Her gaze went to the leather straps on Angela's side. "Take the knife, Yuri, and search her. Make sure she doesn't have any more hidden surprises then take her to the kitchen. She has a floor to scrub."

For a second Yuri's eyes flashed vindictively at Feodora then he shuttered his expression. He looked at Angela and nodded toward the house. Angela followed.

Inside the kitchen the smell of freshly baked bread headed straight to Angela's stomach. Her gut clenched, and her stomach growled its hunger. Five loaves of bread sat on the counter cooling--two days had passed since she'd eaten.

"When you finish with the floors, you can have a slice of bread." Feodora swept from the room, her skirts knocking over a pail of milk.

Chapter Sixteen

Waves of apprehension swept through Alexi. Shivers whipped down his spine even while the sun blistered the sand beneath his feet. Throughout the morning the strange, ominous sensations that plagued him would not leave. Even under the hot desert sun, chills of disquiet brought goose bumps to his arms and cold sweat trickling down his chest.

He looked to the north, visions of Angela clouding his mind and pulling on his heartstrings. Suddenly he wished she were by his side. An urgent need to talk to her, to see her and hear her laughter, pushed out all other thoughts.

He wanted to touch her face, her hands, to know that no harm had come to her, that she was protected. Instead he touched the diamond in his ear and felt a bone-deep cold he could not chase from his heart.

The days had moved by swiftly, but not productively. All the clues they sifted through took circuitous routes or became dead ends. Not one moment passed when he didn't think of Angela or the wide-open spaces that could be found in the West. When his mind shifted to her, the strange feeling that something was seriously wrong pulsed stronger and stronger.

"I fear for your lady.'' Ivan stood beside Alexi, a faint smile on his broad, handsome face. "You've been gone too long. If anything were to happen to Misha, Feodora would sink her deadly claws into Angela. She would take a pound of flesh--and perhaps more--from your mistress. She will be truly jealous of your lady, and Feo is filled with spite and hatred."

"Angela can take care of herself," Alexi murmured, praying she would be able to withstand whatever trials awaited her. "What is it you fear from Feodora?"

"Everything." Ivan shrugged. "Nothing. With Feo you wouldn't know until she had you bound and gagged. I would like to bring her back here as soon as possible. Put her in Najjar's hands, where she can no longer make any trouble."

"Najjar's bed, you mean." Alexi laughed, but he didn't feel the laughter in his heart. Angela needed him. His premonitions--the chills and the horrid dreams he had every night--cried out to him.

"Since the marriage to you will never take place, her father has disowned her. She has nowhere to turn. That fact coupled with Angela's sudden appearance will make her deadly. I told Natasha not to worry, but now that I think on it, I pray Misha can hold his own against the woman."

"Feodora is pregnant with your child?"

Ivan nodded. "She is, and I've stopped her more than once from aborting the babe."

Alexi swallowed hard, his thoughts in turmoil.' 'Could Feodora's father have been responsible for this carnage?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered.

Go home, Alexi. Go home.

He prayed daily his dreams were unfounded.

"I will feel much better when I know she can cause no one trouble, except perhaps Najjar, who can handle Feodora. It is time, friend. What will it take? A week and a few days to get to your home? We will find out nothing more here. For the time being, I have given up on this."

"No more than five days," Alexi said, determined to break all records on his trek across the desert. "I, too, have had the feeling that things are not the way they should be. I will rest much easier when I see Angela with my own eyes."

"Our fates are written in the stars, but that does not mean we can leave everything to chance. You've made a wise decision. I will ride with you. Together we will move faster than the wind."

~ * ~

When Angela finished the endless list of chores that day, she was too exhausted to eat. She wrapped the piece of dry, stale bread the cook had given her in a cloth and climbed the steps to her attic chamber, each step an ordeal. Her inhaled breaths came in ragged pants and her heart beat double-time as each second passed into another. The stab's seemed to stretch upward forever, seemed to be the longest set she'd ever encountered.

Feo stood at the top, waiting for her, a malicious look etched on her pinched face. "What do you want now?" The words tumbled out before Angela could stop them.

"You will learn to speak to your betters with respect." Feodora broke the silence with a scathing tone.

There was nothing Angela wanted to do more than tell Feo what she thought of her. But she didn't have the energy to waste.