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“Not from what I’ve observed,” Madame said, eyebrows raised. “The world needs you, Jean-Marc.”
“Fuck the world,” he said succinctly.
The silence in the small, blood-soaked clearing was suffocating. Chloe didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe.
“You can let go of her, Dmitri,” he said, moving toward her in the bright sunlight. The snow was almost gone now, a bright new day dawning.
Dmitri released his crushing grip, and she felt her knees begin to buckle. She let out a muffled cry as Bastien caught her. He put his arms around her, gently, and turned her bruised face up to his. The light was back in his eyes, and he smiled down at her, a slow, sweet smile that she’d seen only once before.
“Don’t look so shocked, Chloe,” he said, touching her bruised mouth with his finger and then bringing it to his own lips. “I told you I wouldn’t lie.”
“I don’t suppose you’d consider just taking a short sabbatical, Jean-Marc?” Madame asked in a resigned voice.
“I’m retired,” he said, looking into Chloe’s eyes, and everything else faded into nothingness. “And my name is Sebastian.”
