Spirit Bound - Christine Feehan [43]
The sound of laughter spilled out of the wine shop, suddenly much louder. Ivanov rushed him, slapping his blade aside, forcing Stefan to catch the man’s wrist. At the last moment he realized the assassin’s intention, but it was too late. The momentum carried them both over the low railing so that they fell to the sidewalk below. Stefan landed under Ivanov, holding grimly to his wrist to prevent him from whipping the blade across his throat.
For a moment, Stefan couldn’t move, almost paralyzed, desperate for air, his lungs burning, his body barely registering pain as it dispersed along every nerve ending. Ivanov slammed so hard into him, the force drove his body back into the sidewalk a second time, so that the world faded a little around the edges. He held firm on the wrist of his attacker, even as he attacked with his own knife, whipping past Ivanov’s guard to streak the tip of the blade under his chin, carrying through with the sweep to slash his upraised arm.
Ivanov threw the blood from his weeping arm at Stefan’s face, trying to hit his eyes and temporarily blind him, at the same time twisting his wrist in order to slide the blade against Stefan’s skin. Stefan had no choice but to let go. Ivanov leapt back, whirled around and rushed away.
The door to the wine shop opened and people spilled into the street, calling to one another and laughing as they said their good-byes. Stefan rolled over, suppressed a groan and got to his feet. He slipped back into the shadows as quickly as his body would allow. Ivanov was hurt. At least one bone was broken and like Stefan, he’d suffered numerous cuts. Hopefully he’d hide in another of his holes licking his wounds and regrouping, allowing Stefan enough time to do his job, find his brother and hunt the assassin down.
“ I’M so happy, Blythe.”
Judith couldn’t contain the sheer joy spilling out of her through every pore. She felt. Every single cell in her body was alive again, truly alive. She didn’t understand how or why, but here in the privacy of her home, she could let herself be absolutely, utterly happy. She laughed aloud and threw herself onto her bed, sprawling, arms and legs out like a child making an angel in the snow.
“The house is glowing,” Blythe observed. It was impossible not to feel Judith’s happiness. Blythe laughed softly and sank down onto the end of the bed. “Literally glowing, Judith. I’d say tone it down, but I haven’t ever seen you like this and it feels good.”
“It’s him. Thomas.” Judith hugged a pillow to her stomach, her left hand smoothing over the cool Egyptian cotton. “There’s just something about him that reaches for something in me. He’s so . . .” She trailed off and rolled over, looking at Blythe. “I don’t even know how to explain him.”
“You have stars in your eyes.” Blythe pushed back the fall of Judith’s hair and studied her face. “What happened between the two of you?”
Blythe couldn’t help but be happy along with Judith, swept up in her joy. She wanted to be practical and caution Judith to go slow, to remember that Thomas was only thinking of buying the gallery and could be gone in a few days, but the happiness pulsating throughout the house was too contagious.
“Nothing.” Judith sat up, unable to be still. “Everything. I wanted him. Not just wanted him, Blythe. I wanted to be inside his skin with him. I felt like Sleeping Beauty. He came along and woke me up and I don’t even know how. I feel alive for the first time in years. I can’t remember being happy, Blythe, not like this.”
Blythe took a deep breath. Someone had to be reasonable. Practical. “Sweetie, you can’t just blindly jump off a cliff. You know that, right?”
She might know it, but that was the biggest part of the problem. “I might be afraid—no, terrified—and yet . . . honestly exhilarated. It feels as if I’ve woken up after a long sleep.” Her eyes met Blythe’s. “I forgot how good it feels to be aroused by a man. To know he thinks I’m desirable and beautiful.”
It had been so long. She’d been afraid she was permanently damaged as a woman, so scarred by her past that her mind and