Page 69 of Kismet

Chapter 19

Fire. Raw and fierce, it layered her back. It held her rigid beside Nassar as he slept, his loud snores filling the candlelit tent. Earlier, he’d used a whip on her as punishment for injuring him and his subsequent impotency. She’d stubbornly taken each lash in silence, gritting her teeth while her fingernails dug into her palms. Her silence had only enraged him further and he’d whipped her until she’d finally given in to the pain and screamed out.

The mineral odor of dried blood on her back mixed with Nassar’s thick, heavy scent to permeate her skin. The smell sickened her. She desperately wanted a bath to rid herself of the man’s stench, despite knowing how bad it would hurt. And she was certain that no matter how much she scrubbed her skin, she would always smell him, feel his touch. She suppressed a whimper of anguish. She was fortunate he’d only beaten her.

Many of the women she’d left behind at Madame Eugenie’s all those years ago were not so lucky. There were women who’d suffered far greater pain and horrors than she’d endured tonight. And their efforts had all been in vain, whereas she’d made her sacrifice to save her friends. No matter how much she hurt, she’d made the right choice. She had no regrets. With great effort, she climbed to her feet as quietly as she could. Now was her chance to escape. The snoring stopped and she froze, unable to move. Terrified he’d awakened, she glanced over her shoulder only to see him shift positions in his sleep and resume his loud snores. Relief choked her throat with tears, but she swallowed them to keep any sound from escaping her lips.

She needed to move quickly, but it was difficult. Every movement made her body throb with pain. In the far corner of the tent, she saw the clothes she’d been wearing when she’d entered Nassar’s camp. With as much stealth as her battered body allowed, she crept toward them. She’d expected pain, but when she crouched down to retrieve her clothes, her back screamed its protest. It grew worse when she slid her gambaz over her head and her stomach roiled, making her dizzy. How she managed to dress without making a sound she didn’t know, but after what seemed a lifetime she shuffled barefoot toward the tent doorway. She’d just reached the tent entrance when Nassar’s snoring came to an abrupt halt.

Her heart in her mouth, she turned and saw him sitting up, a groggy expression on his face. The moment he saw her standing at the doorway his sleepy look disappeared. Malice flashed in his dark eyes as he watched her. She’d yielded to his beating, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how badly she hurt at this moment. Heart pounding, she bowed her head in his direction. Anything more than a nod would have drawn a cry of pain from her.

“Excellency, forgive me if I disturbed your rest. I needed to relieve myself and didn’t mean to awaken you.” She lifted her gaze so she could look him directly in the eye, and waited for him to accuse her of trying to escape.

“Well hurry up then,” he snapped with a disgruntled snort as he waved his hand at her.

With another bob of her head, she turned away from him and stepped out into the crisp night air. The moment she was out of view, her legs wobbled beneath her and she fought to remain standing. Oh God, it was impossible to escape now. He’d come looking for her if she was gone for too long. She dragged in a deep breath of cool air, clearing her lungs of the man’s repugnant smell.

Overhead, a large bank of clouds drifted across the moon until there was little light to see by. Keeping her hand on the side of the tent to guide her in the darkness, she shuffled forward. Perhaps if the moon remained hidden behind the clouds she could find the horses. She released a half laugh, half sob beneath her breath. What in heavens name made her think she could possibly ride a horse if she managed to steal one. She could barely walk, let alone mount a horse.

A tear rolled down her cheek. The thought of going back into that monster’s tent sent bile rushing up into her mouth and she stumbled around the side of the tent to vomit. Wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her gambaz, she closed her eyes. She couldn’t go back inside that tent. She wouldn’t. This was no longer about survival. It was about exchanging a slow death for a quick one. The bastard could come find her. When he did, he’d be so furious, he’d put an end to her misery. Every step a painful one, she moved forward. She didn’t care where she was going as long as it took her away from Nassar.

She’d not gone far when she heard a soft thud in the dark. Fear slithered through her and she froze, waiting for someone to drag her back to Nassar’s tent. When she didn’t hear anything else unusual, she shuffled forward, only to hear the noise again. It was the muffled sound of fighting and a tremor swept through her. Shaheen. He’d come for her. The clouds overhead parted to light up the darkness around her, and she tried to draw back into the shadows.

“Bloody hell. Allegra.”

Charles’s harsh whisper proved her undoing as she turned her head toward him. Slowly, she sank to her knees, giving way to the tears she’d blocked since arriving in Nassar’s camp. The last bit of hope burning in her breast was extinguished once and for all. He hadn’t come for her. God, even to the end she’d been a fool.

Why would Shaheen come looking for her when he’d said in no uncertain terms that they were through? Why had she even dared to dream he would rescue her from Nassar a second time? Her silent sobs shook her body hard, and Charles uttered a soft expletive as he knelt beside her to cradle her in his arms. He held her for only a minute before he forced her to look at him.

“You’re safe, Allegra. It’s all right.” He gently brushed his fingers across her damp cheeks and smiled. “Tears? Are you still bewailing your refusal of that emerald necklace I offered you?”

The absurdity of his whispered comment brought her crying to a halt, and she choked out a low laugh. Arching his eyebrows at her, she saw the relief flash across his features as her tears disappeared. He immediately pressed his finger to his lips in a gesture for her to be quiet. The faint noise of fighting echoed nearby, followed by shouts and then gunfire. In the next instant, the entire camp erupted with the sound of several bloodcurdling cries and the thunderous sound of horses racing into the camp.

Nassar’s voice echoed close by and she turned her head to see that she’d only passed four tents since leaving his dwelling. They had to move. If he found them here, he’d kill them both. Her hand squeezed tightly into Charles’s arm to get him to move, but it was too late.

“My dear, Allegra. Surely, you’re not about to leave me for another lover.” Nassar’s voice was lethal venom.

She turned her head to see the man facing them with a curved saber that glinted in the moonlight. The memory of Omar’s beheading pushed its way into her mind, and a shudder ripped through her. Charles quickly helped her to her feet before pushing her behind him.

“We have a score to settle, Nassar.” His words quiet, but forceful, Charles leveled his gun at the Sheikh. “I don’t like being threatened, and I sure as hell don’t like my friends being hurt.”

“Then you’ll not like this either.” Nassar nodded swiftly to someone behind them.

Caught off guard, Charles didn’t have time to react, and he crashed to the ground from a terrible blow by one of Nassar’s bodyguards. The scream welling up in her throat broke past her lips, and Nassar’s smile vanished as he strode forward. His fingers wrapped around her wrist as he jerked her toward him with a hiss of anger.

“Shut up, you bitch, or I’ll kill you right where you stand.”

She glanced down at Charles’s still form, half expecting to see the bodyguard killing her former lover. Relief sped through her when she realized the bodyguard had gone to join in the fighting. Her gaze flew from Charles’s still form back to Nassar’s malevolent expression. An explosive rage, violent and powerful, crashed through her, stirring another emotion to life. Hate.

She’d never hated anyone in her life before. But she hated Nassar. The emotion swirled in her belly like the rustling of a nest of snakes. Dark and powerful, her hate and anger mated until the emotions danced and slithered their way through her, seductively hissing a cry for revenge. She wanted Nassar to feel pain. But most importantly, she wanted to see him writhing in agony from some torture she devised. She wanted so see that flat gaze of his filled with terror.

The dark, intense emotions flowed hot through her veins. They screamed in silent fury at the memory of a whip cracking through the air. The sting of it biting into her shoulders as Nassar beat her, each blow harder than the last. Lashes she wanted him to feel. She wanted to hear him plead for mercy as she flayed the skin off his back, the rough leather handle of his own whip scratching the palm of her hand. She wanted to smell the fresh scent of his blood dripping onto the sandy earth as he tried to crawl away from her. Her expression must have revealed her emotional state to him because he tugged her close, his body and weaponry brushing against her.

“There’s nothing to fear, Allegra. No one will take you from me,” he sneered.

His confidence flamed her hatred to a blinding, fevered pitch until the fire scourging her back diminished to a mere twinge as she pushed hard to free herself. In doing so, her fingers brushed over the dagger tucked in his sash. Without a second thought, she ripped the blade from his cloth belt and stabbed him in the shoulder. In a split second, he shoved her away with a loud cry of fury and pain. She couldn’t tell whether it was a deep wound, but it was serious enough that blood stained his white robes.

Satisfaction empowered her to step forward and jab at him with the knife a second time. He dodged her attempt, and with bitter fury darkening his face, he knocked her to the ground. The blow blinded her with pain as it sucked the air from her lungs. Fighting to remain conscious, she lifted her head to see Nassar raise his saber, his eyes glittering with fury as he stared down at her. Fear didn’t exist in her mind when she looked at him.