Spirit Bound - Christine Feehan [172]
The attack was so fast and so unexpected Judith almost didn’t understand what happened, and then her cheek seemed to explode, a blossoming pain that wrenched her teeth and eye, and she realized he’d hit her. Fury burst through her, shaking her to her very core. She kicked at him as he bent over her. Her foot connected with his shin and he spat out curses. Judith rolled, trying to get under the protection of the table, but he swung his booted foot at her, slamming into her ribs and driving the breath from her body. Before she could recover, he gripped the back of her hair in his hands and yanked her up.
“Stop it, Judith,” he hissed. “Do you understand me? You stop or I’ll beat you senseless, and then tear this house apart until I find that painting. Regardless, conscious or unconscious, I’m taking you with me anyway. You can choose.”
She nodded, fighting for air. Judith forced her body under control. “Tell me what’s so important about that painting, Jean-Claude.”
“I put something there and I need it back. Something very important. Where the hell is the painting?”
Judith closed her eyes briefly. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Even when Stefan had mentioned a microchip, it hadn’t clicked, but now she knew. Her brother had been the one to stretch that canvas for her. He’d been the first person to ever show her how and she’d taken the canvas with her when she went to Paris intending to give him her very first painting as a tribute.
She’d met Jean-Claude, had fallen hard for the handsome Frenchman and had painted their portraits, one of the few she’d ever done. She’d put all a young girl’s love of the fantasy handsome prince, into that painting. Jean-Claude had hung it on the wall of his bedroom. She’d grabbed the painting and at the first opportunity, Paul had helped her ship what little she had home so they could make their way across Europe, hoping to stay under Jean-Claude’s radar until they could get to Greece where a friend of Paul’s was waiting to take them back to the United States on his ship.
“I told you, I painted over it, but it’s in my other studio. You’ll have to let me get it. Going in there is dangerous.”
She honestly didn’t know how dangerous, but Jean-Claude had already shown he was very susceptible to her emotions and anything violent would be extremely strong. The buildup of five years of pent-up rage lay in that room, just waiting to find a way out.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Jean-Claude declared, grabbing a handful of hair and yanking her toward the door. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
She kept her feet under her somehow, as he dragged her down the hall.
“Where is it?” he demanded, turning around and around, looking at the various doors.
“It’s that one. It’s locked.” Should she lie and say the key was upstairs? Stefan might not have left. Did she want Stefan brought into this?
Her heart fluttered and then went still as realization dawned. Stefan was the perfect killing machine. He’d been raised to be a killer. Jean-Claude was a criminal and coldblooded, but if she called Stefan back, she had no doubt that Stefan could do exactly the things she’d thought about—and had planned for the last five long years. He could be the instrument she used to destroy Jean-Claude. He was more than capable of killing the Frenchman.
Her right hand crept toward her left hand, to that mark itching in the center of her left palm. Elation swept through her. She could finally punish Jean-Claude, exact revenge. See him tortured and killed, just as he’d done to Paul. All she had to do was call Stefan back and she knew she could call him. He would come for the microchip and she knew where the microchip was. Jean-Claude wouldn’t find it, but she could use it to get Stefan to do what she wanted.
She took a deep breath, her thumb pausing over the center of her palm. She just needed to press down hard and call to him telepathically. If he had already left and was too far away to hear her, he might still feel her.
“Damn it,