Chapter Six
“Get her!”
Christian heard the shouted command echo down the corridor. He whirled, stepping out of the room. God’s blood! Couldn’t he leave Willow alone for a moment? In truth, he had wanted to leave her for good. It had infuriated him that she had stolen the book. He had every intention of getting the book and abandoning her.
Footsteps raced in his direction, and he cursed quietly. In the dim light from the torch on the wall, he saw her round the corner and run toward him. He grabbed her arm and tugged her into the room, putting his finger to his lips. She was out of breath, and he saw the fear in her large blue eyes. He clenched his teeth and guided her to the side of the wall, out of reach of the light.
He waited, watching the doorway. With any luck, the men chasing her would continue down the hallway, giving them time to escape. The deep way, Brother Nicolas had said. Only a Templar Knight or a boy who grew up in the chateau as Christian had would know what he was talking about.
More pounding feet as the men neared the room. Willow’s hand tightened on his arm. He put his hand in front of her, partly for protection and partly to keep her from doing anything that would call attention to them.
Footsteps faltered near the doorway, then moved on.
Christian inhaled a breath of relief until he saw the shadow pause in the doorway. His hand dropped to the hilt of his sword, but he didn’t draw it. The man couldn’t see them. The darkness hid them. The hiss of a blade would give them away, also. He eased silently in front of Willow.
The man stepped into the room.
Christian edged toward the man, careful to stay in the shadows against the wall. Willow moved to follow him, but he held up his hand, gently touching her arm in the hopes of conveying his intention.
As he took a step again, she trailed him. He gripped her arm more forcefully, keeping his eyes on the man coming farther into the room.
Christian slowly removed a dagger from his belt. He circled the man, inching toward his back.
Willow shadowed him.
He hadn’t expressed his request to her, so he could do nothing but allow her to trail him. He couldn’t worry about her right now. His goal was to dispense the threat. He halted just out of the light from the hallway. The man’s back was not to him. Christian knew the man would see his movement or his shadow, but it was a risk he had to take.
He leaped toward the man.
A second later, the man whirled. Too late. Christian lunged, shoving the dagger forward. It bounced off the man’s chainmail. The impetus carried them to the floor in a heap, Christian on top of him.
Christian raised the dagger for the final blow.
The man’s eyes widened in recognition. “Sterling.”
Memories filtered through Christian’s mind. The last time he had seen him, he didn’t have a mustache or beard.
The dark eyes stared at him, a smile beginning to form across his lips.
Christian knew him. William de Burgh. Unfortunately, he was on the wrong side. Christian swung his arm forward, slicing de Burgh’s throat, and sat up as the blood gurgled from the fatal wound. He felt a moment of remorse. They had been friends. Once. De Burgh—what was he doing with the men chasing Willow?
Willow watched him from the shadows, inching toward the doorway.
It was only a moment before he understood she thought they would run. He wiped his dagger on de Burgh’s tunic and stood.
As he walked over to the wall, he replaced the dagger in his belt. A grate was lodged in the wall. Christian noticed the covered painting usually hiding it had been moved aside. He bent and wrapped his fingers around the metal slates. He yanked. It opened with a creak. Not as hard as he thought. But if this were the way Marcus exited with Sage and the book, it would have already been opened once.
The book. If Willow hadn’t have stolen it from him...
He turned to her. She stood near the door; her blonde waves gathered back into a braid. He impatiently waved her over.
“We’re not...” she began, looking over her shoulder at the corridor.
“The men after you are that way,” Christian whispered. Still, she hesitated. He didn’t have time to convince her, but he knew how to get her to go. “Sage went this way.”
She looked at him, her large eyes searching his face. She glanced at the opening—the deep way.
“Are you coming?” Christian asked.
