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BOOK: Bobbi Smith
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“
Our
brilliance,” Robert put in.
He ignored his brother’s comment. “Father was a fool and a failure! We won! I hope he can hear me! I hope he knows how much I despised him and how glad I am he’s dead!” he raved.
“Your father was not a fool! He knew what he was doing trying to keep the crown from you. He was a good man . . . a kind man,” Alex spoke up, unable to listen to their hateful words. “I loved him.”
Philip turned to look at her as he slowly got to his feet. His eyes mirrored only rage and lust as he crossed toward her, still holding the crown. “You loved him, did you? Well, maybe it’s time you loved one of his sons.”
“Are you mad? What are you talking about?” Robert demanded as he watched Philip stalk Alex.
“I just want to teach Alexandra here a lesson.”
“This is hardly the time or place,” he criticized.
“Don’t touch me,” Alex said. She watched him move closer and wished she had some place to flee to for safety.
Philip struck with lightning speed, slapping her viciously. “Don’t ever tell me what to do again,” he said in a deadly voice. “No one tells me what to do.”
Alex hadn’t known what to expect from him, but she certainly hadn’t been prepared for him to hit her. The force of the blow split her lip, and she cried out in pain.
“Philip! What the hell’s the matter with you?!” Robert jumped up and came after him.
He bristled at his brother’s criticism. “Don’t you push me either, Robert. I put up with the old man because I had to, but I don’t have to listen to her or to you.”
His words were spoken with such venom that Robert immediately backed down.
Philip watched him move off, and he felt even more invincible. His brother’s carping was driving him mad. He’d suffered his tedious company for this long just for the sake of finding the crown, but now they had it. Soon, very soon, they would be done with each other, and he would never have to see him again. The prospect appealed to him. He went back to sit down by the fire again, the crown still clutched in his hand.
“If there’s one thing I don’t need, Robert, it’s you or anyone else telling me what to do. Need I remind you that it was my careful planning that’s taken us this far?”
“I could have managed without you,” Robert retorted.
He gave a snort of derisive laughter. “You would never have had the nerve to break into Bradford’s house like I did,” he belittled. “If it were up to you, you’d still be sitting in London, without funds, living off your friends and trying to figure out where your next meal was coming from. You always were slower than most.”
Robert glared at him in the firelight. “Once we’re back in London, and I get my share of the crown’s price, dear brother, I plan never to see you again.”
“A worthy plan. Probably one of the better ones you’ve come up with in your miserable life.”
Alex listened to the ugly exchange and grew chilled. Her cheek was throbbing and she tasted blood from her lip. This was only her first night with them. The trip to London would take weeks, and the thought frightened her.
Philip held the crown up before him and stared into the depths of the ruby, mesmerized by its size and perfect color. It was a collector’s dream, and he knew they would get a very pretty price for it. All they had to do was reach Galveston and catch the first ship out before Bradford and McKittrick found them. Once they arrived in London, they would have enough money that they could disappear and never be seen again. Philip was looking forward to that luxury. His grip tightened on the crown.
Robert stared at his brother in disgust. Philip seemed almost demented as he stared at the ruby and gold prize. Robert had wanted the crown, too, for all these years, but he was reasonable enough to know that it was only a piece of gold. They would sell it, pocket the money, and go their separate ways. They couldn’t get back to England soon enough to suit him.
He cast a glance at Alex before bedding down. She had lain down now, and he was glad. The less Philip was irritated in his current mood, the better. He’d seen him in strange moods before, but never one as unpredictable as this.
Alex lay nervously wrapped in the thin blanket they’d given her. She knew she wouldn’t sleep tonight, for Philip was acting too crazy. Silently, she prayed that Winn and Matt would come, but she knew in her heart that even if they did give chase, they wouldn’t be coming for her. No doubt, they believed she’d been helping the Anthonys. If they came after them, it would only be to reclaim the crown.
As Alex lay in the darkness, her heart was heavy and her future looked bleak. The only bright spot she could find was that her father was going to be freed as soon as they returned.
Taking care not to be seen watching him, she studied Philip as he sat before the dancing flames holding the crown. For years, she’d wanted to find the crown for its history and her love of the legend, and now, it meant only her father’s freedom to her—nothing more. She almost wished that she’d never seen or heard of it. She closed her eyes against the sight of Philip.
Winn and Matt were about to go mad. They’d been trapped in the chamber for hours and they weren’t sure how much longer it would be before they would be discovered and freed. Winn was livid. His rage was nearly out of control.
“Get us out of here!!” He pounded on the door again, shouting at the top of his voice. “Can anybody out there hear me?!”
Matt was just as angry as Winn, but he stood back in the darkness, his temper controlled, his mood pensive. “You might as well give it up for a while. There’s no one around, and I doubt there will be any time soon.”
“I want out of here!”
“We both want out of here,” he told him.
“Just as soon as someone opens this door, I’m going after them and when I find them . . .”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to find out what the Anthonys did to Alex to force her to go along with their plan.” He couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d been trying to tell him something important when the Anthonys had unexpectedly showed up or the way she’d looked when he’d last seen her.
“What are you talking about? They probably just promised her a cut of the money, like they said,” Matt said.
“No. There’s got to be more to this than we know.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know Alex . . . Because I love her, Matt. Didn’t you see her expression?”
Matt fell silent for a moment, remembering. “What do you think they did to force her to betray us?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past them. Think about it. Remember when we were in the church right before they showed up? She had just started to tell us something important about her father and the Anthonys, and then she was interrupted.”
“Her father?”
“It has to have something to do with him,” Winn concluded, his thoughts racing. “One day she was determined to wait for him before we made the trek, and a short time later, she was ready to go because he’d been ‘delayed’ in London. What do you want to wager that that ‘delay’ had to do with Philip and Robert?”
“I think you’re on to something,” Matt replied.
“I don’t trust the Anthonys with her.”
At the thought of the Anthonys forcing her to accompany them against her will, they both started to pound on the door again, hoping and praying for rescue.
Twenty-one
Darkness claimed the land. Darkness claimed Philip’s soul, overpowering him and filling him with a deep, terrible need to take what was rightfully his and keep it for his own.
Philip had pretended to go to bed when Robert did, just to satisfy him. When he’d lain down, he’d kept the crown next to him. He had waited far too long to let it out of his sight. It was his. All the years of waiting and planning and now it was in his grasp! He owned the Crown of Desire! Philip smiled into the night, hoping his father could see him, hoping his father would be watching when he sold it to the highest bidder and lived the rest of his life in luxury the way he was supposed to live.
Philip caressed the bag holding the crown as if it were his precious lover. He could feel the smooth, perfect metal even through the cloth.
It was his, all his. . ..
The thought kept reverberating through his mind like a pagan chant to the Gods. He would share it with no one—not even his insipid brother.
Shifting his position a little, Philip lifted his hand from the crown and touched the gun he’d brought along. It was then, as he thought of all the money he would have if he was the crown’s sole owner, that he made his deadly decision.
He had always hated Robert. These last weeks traveling with him had sorely tested his patience. Now, out here in the middle of nowhere with only the girl for a witness, he knew what he would do. He’d gotten away with it twice before. Surely, a third time would be just as easy. And then . . .
Philip cast a glance toward where Alex slept on the opposite side of the campfire. He’d desired her ever since he’d first met her in London. It annoyed him that she’d always acted as if she were too good for him. Tonight, he would show her just how good he was. And when he was done, he would be on his way, and he’d be alone.
The thought thrilled him. He thought himself untouchable, and he considered his plan perfect. He’d gotten rid of their father and Henry. He’d stolen the crown back. Now, all he had to do was rid himself of Robert and the girl, and he would be free, truly free! The money would be all his, and no one would be the wiser. Who even knew if their bodies would ever be discovered this far out in no-man’s land? His smile broadened as he reached for his gun.
 
 
There was no way Alex could rest with Philip and Robert so near. She wanted to run away and disappear into the night, but she didn’t dare. Not with her father’s life at stake. She had to be strong. She had to concentrate on him and not on the way Winn had looked at her when he’d discovered her betrayal.
She’d been lying still, trying to convince the brothers that she was asleep, when she heard someone moving around the campfire. Shifting a little, she opened her eyes and peered into the darkness. There was only a low glow coming from what was left of the fire, but it still gave off enough light to see the horror that was unfolding before her.
Philip was filled with bloodlust. He’d lain restless and excited by the slow-dying fire just waiting for the right moment. When he was certain that both Robert and Alex were sound asleep, he crept from his bed, gun in hand.
Crossing to where his brother was lying, he stared down at him for a moment. He felt nothing for this sleeping man who was his closest relative. It would be a simple thing to murder him. No one would ever know, and the crown would then be only his. That was the most important thing.
With a look of almost glee, Philip took aim. He wanted Robert dead. He wanted him out of his life forever, just like his father and just like that miserable Henry. He started to fire.
“Philip! Dear God, what are you doing?” Alex cried.
The sound of Alex’s scream distracted him for a fraction of a second just as he squeezed off the shot. But his aim still seemed true for his brother collapsed without a fight, a gaping wound in his chest.
Alex started to scramble to her feet, needing to get away, needing to escape from his madness. She was frantic and desperate.
Philip turned toward her, his face reflecting the sense of pure power that filled him. He smiled, and it was a smile that sent terror to the very center of her being.
“I’m doing what I’ve always wanted to do,” he explained casually as he walked away from his brother and went after her. “I wouldn’t run if I were you. I have no intention of hurting you.” In his thoughts, though, he added ‘for right now.’
Alex had always considered herself a strong, self-sufficient woman, but in that moment, having witnessed a cold-blooded murder, she found herself whimpering in terror. She started to run, blindly, wildly.
Philip was upon her in an instant. He tackled her, and they fell heavily. He landed atop her. His weight was crushing, and the heat of him seared her like a burning, painful brand. She wanted to squirm out from beneath him, but he held her pinned there.
“I’ve wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you,” he said thickly, his hand tearing at her blouse, groping at her body.
“Get away from me!” she screamed into the deserted black night. She pushed and shoved at him, trying to dislodge him, but he would not move.
“You want this. You know you do,” he chided.
“I hate you, Philip Anthony! I’ve hated you from the beginning! Your father was right to disinherit you! You’ll pay for this!”
“You needn’t worry about it, my sweet. Neither you nor my brother will be around to see it if I do.”
He stood up, intending to unbutton his pants so he could take her right there in the dirt. Alex tried to scramble away, but Philip would not be denied. He grabbed her and gave her a violent shake.
“Lie still or so help me, I’ll kill you right now. Just like I did all the rest!”
Alex heard the savage intensity of his voice and knew he meant every word. He was out of his mind. She’d just watched him kill his own brother and now he was going to kill her.
“You killed your own father!” she said, shocked to the depths of her being by the discovery. She shuddered visibly.
“Of course. Who else would have done it? Your father was just too trusting, but for me that was good. Now, with my brother gone to join our father in his final reward, everything is mine,” Philip was saying.
Working at the buttons of his pants, he prepared to take her. He liked seeing the fear in her eyes. The knowledge that he could make her quake with terror only excited him more. He was more than ready for her. It was just a simple matter of . . .
The shot rang out, splitting the silence of the night. The bullet exploded through Philip’s body, spreading bloody testimony to its power across the front of his shirt.
Alex stared up at him, unable to comprehend what had happened. Then seeing the blood, she realized what had happened. She looked past him to where Robert was leaning up on one elbow, his own gun in hand. The weapon looked to be almost too heavy for him, and he seemed to fade from life before her very eyes.
Philip staggered and looked back to see his brother. His expression turned to one of total shock and disbelief. He had the power! He had everything he’d ever wanted! This couldn’t have happened, yet the agony ripping through his body could not be denied.
“You!” he said that one word as if it were the most vile curse, and then he collapsed, pitching forward. He was dead when he hit the ground.
Alex bit back a scream as she scurried to get away from him.
“Alex . . .”
She heard Robert’s weak call, and nervously skirting Philip, she hurried to him. He had fallen back, too weak to support himself any longer, and his gun lay beside him in the dirt. Blood covered his shirt in a ghoulish drenching.
“Robert . . .” She knelt beside him and took his hand, seeing the pain in his features and wanting to help, to do something, anything.
“Alex . . .” he choked.
“I’m here,” she answered, leaning closer so he could see and hear her.
“Go . . . get out of here . . .” His voice was weak, but she could hear the very real panic in it.
“I won’t leave you alone.”
“No. no . . . It’s the crown . . . the curse . . . Run! Run while you still can!” His breathing was rasping, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
“I’m not going to leave you here like this all alone,” she said. Hate him though she did, she couldn’t just leave him there to die by himself.
“I’m a dead man . . . just like my brother. Leave, Alex. I don’t deserve any kindness from you.”
“Don’t try to talk. Save your strength.” She grabbed the blanket that lay nearby and pressed it to the horrendous wound to try to staunch the blood flow, but it was useless.
“It’s the curse . . .” he repeated. “It’s real.”
“It’s only a legend.” She tried to keep him calm, but he would have none of it.
“Don’t be a fool! Look at what it’s done! Look at my father . . . my brother . . . Look at me! It’s a death sentence!” With his last ounce of strength, he grabbed the bag that held the crown and thrust it toward her. “Get rid of it! Don’t keep it!”
Alex took it from him. “I’ll take it back to the mission.” His blood had stained the bag, and in the last red glow of the nearly dead fire, it made a gruesome gift.
“Good . . .” he whispered with his last breath.
“But what about my father?” she demanded. Seeing him failing before her very eyes, she had to have the answer. She had to find out how to save her father from the terrible fate they’d plotted for him.
She got no response to her desperate plea. Robert died before he could answer her, slumping back, his life finished in the useless pursuit of riches.
For a moment, Alex sat stunned and unable to take action. The bag containing the Crown of Desire was still clutched in her hand. She began to shake uncontrollably. She might have the crown, but in complete and total frustration she realized that she still had no idea how to save her father.
 
 
Winn and Matt were not rescued until long after dark. The priest who found them was horrified by their tale, and he helped them form a posse with worshipers from the church.
The people of Corazon Sagrado were outraged by the theft. Peace, serenity, and prosperity had reigned at the mission since the crown had been brought there by the old mysterious stranger several years before. The crops had flourished. Illness had almost ceased to exist. Everyone now lived in contentment and brotherhood, going about their daily lives with love and charity in their hearts and in their actions. Now, with the crown gone, they immediately felt the void in their lives. They wanted to bring the crown back to the mission, to the Virgin. In anger and determination, six men from the mission who were familiar with the land joined them in their search.
Matt was in his element as they rode out to catch the Anthonys. He was an accomplished tracker, having trailed people in the dark before. Carrying a torch, he led the way like a fearless knight on a crusade. They were resolved to retrieve the treasure and return it to its rightful place. Their progress proved slow, but steady.
Winn was tense as he followed Matt’s lead. Every fiber of his being was concentrated on following the trail. He had to find Alex. The crown was important, too, but it was Alex he loved. He realized then as they rode at a steady, but slow pace through the night-shrouded countryside that he had never actually told her that he loved her. He regretted that now, and he vowed to make it up to her the minute he saw her again.
Concern about her being alone with Philip and Robert tormented him. He knew what kind of man Philip was, and he didn’t trust him, not one bit. He hoped and prayed that she remained safe until he could find her. He rode by Matt’s side, tense with fear and worry.
 
 
Alex sat frozen for a time, surrounded by death and destruction. When she finally managed to look around at the carnage, icy fingers of terror traced up and down her spine. She knew she had to get out of there. She had to run as fast and as far as she could.
Somehow, Alex saddled her horse, and after tying the crown’s bag over her saddle horn, she mounted and started off. It wouldn’t be easy riding at night, but the memory of Philip’s near assault and the killings left her frantic to get away. She needed Winn and the haven of his arms around her. She needed to feel safe and protected again.
Even as she thought it, though, Alex knew Winn hated her now. She hoped she could redeem herself by returning the crown to the church, but she wasn’t sure. The only thing she was sure of was that she now believed in the curse. She had seen its power and its devastation.
The moon offered some light as she tried to head back the way they’d come. After traveling in the wilds with her father on so many treks, she had a trained eye to keep track of landmarks and distances. But tonight, she was frightened, deeply frightened, and could only pray that she was riding in the direction of Corazon Sagrado.
As Alex rode on alone and scared, she thought of Princess Analika so many centuries before, and she understood the heartbreak and agony that had caused her to put the curse on the crown. Analika had lost everything with the death of her prince. She’d had nothing left to live for. He had died for the crown, and Alex knew, as Analika had, that the crown and all its riches were nothing compared to human life and love.
BOOK: Bobbi Smith
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