Chapter Three
Satine stepped backward, pressing her back into Christian's chest, her breathing now coming in ragged gasps. "I have to go with him." She whispered so only he could hear her.
"No." he hissed back vehemently, his warm breath burning the cold exposed skin of her neck.
"Yes." She parried back just as strongly. "He'll kill you otherwise." For the duke's benefit, her face remained emotionless, but her tears were evident in her voice, if not in her face.
"We'll run, Satine. We'll...we'll get on a train. He won't be able to find us." Said Christian, desperation now becoming evident. He linked her hands with his, squeezing them in a wordless beg not to go. Satine shook her head.
"He's a powerful man, Christian. He won't rest until you're dead and I'm his." He remained silent, but she could almost physically feel his despair. "I love you Christian, until the end of time. I'll get away from him and find you again, I promise. Come what may." She breathed out quietly. Then she untangled her hands from his and stepped forward, tossing her head up proudly, but inside she was sobbing uncontrollably.
"Alright dear duke, you can have your property back." She said, stepping up to him, her face the perfect mask of calm and control. Christian made a move to come forward, but Satine stopped him with a pleading look.
"Good my dear, it seems you have finally come to your senses." Said the duke, putting a hand around her waist. Not tenderly, as Christian did, but as an act of ownership. Satine wanted to draw away from his touch, but she remained motionless and stared back at Christian, the sadness and hopelessness in his eyes reflected in hers. "Come then my pet," continued the duke, steering her away from Christian. Satine glanced over her shoulder once before staring, resigned, ahead. "And I believe we can get rid of this, right sweet?" he said, pulling off Christian's coat and flinging it onto the muddy ground. Satine stared down wordlessly, her body quivering in silent anger. "Oh also Warner," added the duke to his manservant he left behind, "kill the boy." Satine gasped, and whirled around, but the duke had already prepared for her reaction. He had both of his arms firmly around her waist pinning down her arms, but she fought wildly to get back to Christian, who was being held in a
chokehold as Warner reached for his gun and slid the silencer on.
"NO! CHRISTIAN!" she screamed, and managed to free one of her arms to smash the duke's nose. The duke yelled, astonished, and reached a hand up to his face, loosing his hold enough for Satine to escape. Christian, meanwhile, had somehow kicked Warner in the knee and instep, and the manservant buckled as Satine knocked the gun out of his hand. Christian ducked out of his grasp and gave Warner a hard punch across the face, turning his cheek and eyes a nasty shade of crimson before turning to a sick combination of yellow and purple.
"Come Satine, HURRY!" Christian yelled, grabbing her wrist as he ran toward the train that was just going to depart from the platform, not caring where it was going. He and Satine slid into the only open car as the doors closed behind them. The train chugged out of the station slowly and then more rapidly, the whistle's blow shrieking through the air like a feminine scream. Satine collapsed, gasping, into the cushions, her breath wheezing in her throat. Sweat lined her forehead like a crown of glistening diamonds, and her skin faded to an off-white color. Christian turned to her, still catching his breath, and then paled when he saw her condition. "Satine? Satine, what's the matter?" he asked desperately, grasping her arms to steady her. She coughed violently, covering her mouth with her hand, her fingers becoming stained with blood and a crimson trickle flowing down her chin. His eyes searched her face frantically, realizing with a burst horror that this was like a mirror
image of the opening night of "Spectacular Spectacular." She leaned in against his chest, still hacking convulsively, each powerful cough shaking her body. He folded his arms around her, moving so he could see her face, terrified and not knowing what to do. Finally Satine stopped and her body relaxed as her breathing grew normal again. "Satine? Satine? Are you alright?" asked Christian anxiously. Satine tried to smile for his benefit, but it came out weak and more like a grimace.
"I'm fine Christian. Don't worry...I'm just a little tired..." her voice trailed off as her eyes closed. Satine had either fainted or fallen asleep; Christian wasn't sure which. He drew in a shuddering breath and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, which he used to gently wipe the blood off her slender fingers and chin. He stared at her pale face, now turned into his vest, ringed with a halo of fiery hair that juxtaposed sharply with her pale skin. What was wrong with Satine?
**Author's Note** Hoped you liked this chapter! Chapter Four will be up shortly. Will the power that's darker than jealousy and stronger than love separate Christian and Satine? Find out soon! ^_^
Satine stepped backward, pressing her back into Christian's chest, her breathing now coming in ragged gasps. "I have to go with him." She whispered so only he could hear her.
"No." he hissed back vehemently, his warm breath burning the cold exposed skin of her neck.
"Yes." She parried back just as strongly. "He'll kill you otherwise." For the duke's benefit, her face remained emotionless, but her tears were evident in her voice, if not in her face.
"We'll run, Satine. We'll...we'll get on a train. He won't be able to find us." Said Christian, desperation now becoming evident. He linked her hands with his, squeezing them in a wordless beg not to go. Satine shook her head.
"He's a powerful man, Christian. He won't rest until you're dead and I'm his." He remained silent, but she could almost physically feel his despair. "I love you Christian, until the end of time. I'll get away from him and find you again, I promise. Come what may." She breathed out quietly. Then she untangled her hands from his and stepped forward, tossing her head up proudly, but inside she was sobbing uncontrollably.
"Alright dear duke, you can have your property back." She said, stepping up to him, her face the perfect mask of calm and control. Christian made a move to come forward, but Satine stopped him with a pleading look.
"Good my dear, it seems you have finally come to your senses." Said the duke, putting a hand around her waist. Not tenderly, as Christian did, but as an act of ownership. Satine wanted to draw away from his touch, but she remained motionless and stared back at Christian, the sadness and hopelessness in his eyes reflected in hers. "Come then my pet," continued the duke, steering her away from Christian. Satine glanced over her shoulder once before staring, resigned, ahead. "And I believe we can get rid of this, right sweet?" he said, pulling off Christian's coat and flinging it onto the muddy ground. Satine stared down wordlessly, her body quivering in silent anger. "Oh also Warner," added the duke to his manservant he left behind, "kill the boy." Satine gasped, and whirled around, but the duke had already prepared for her reaction. He had both of his arms firmly around her waist pinning down her arms, but she fought wildly to get back to Christian, who was being held in a
chokehold as Warner reached for his gun and slid the silencer on.
"NO! CHRISTIAN!" she screamed, and managed to free one of her arms to smash the duke's nose. The duke yelled, astonished, and reached a hand up to his face, loosing his hold enough for Satine to escape. Christian, meanwhile, had somehow kicked Warner in the knee and instep, and the manservant buckled as Satine knocked the gun out of his hand. Christian ducked out of his grasp and gave Warner a hard punch across the face, turning his cheek and eyes a nasty shade of crimson before turning to a sick combination of yellow and purple.
"Come Satine, HURRY!" Christian yelled, grabbing her wrist as he ran toward the train that was just going to depart from the platform, not caring where it was going. He and Satine slid into the only open car as the doors closed behind them. The train chugged out of the station slowly and then more rapidly, the whistle's blow shrieking through the air like a feminine scream. Satine collapsed, gasping, into the cushions, her breath wheezing in her throat. Sweat lined her forehead like a crown of glistening diamonds, and her skin faded to an off-white color. Christian turned to her, still catching his breath, and then paled when he saw her condition. "Satine? Satine, what's the matter?" he asked desperately, grasping her arms to steady her. She coughed violently, covering her mouth with her hand, her fingers becoming stained with blood and a crimson trickle flowing down her chin. His eyes searched her face frantically, realizing with a burst horror that this was like a mirror
image of the opening night of "Spectacular Spectacular." She leaned in against his chest, still hacking convulsively, each powerful cough shaking her body. He folded his arms around her, moving so he could see her face, terrified and not knowing what to do. Finally Satine stopped and her body relaxed as her breathing grew normal again. "Satine? Satine? Are you alright?" asked Christian anxiously. Satine tried to smile for his benefit, but it came out weak and more like a grimace.
"I'm fine Christian. Don't worry...I'm just a little tired..." her voice trailed off as her eyes closed. Satine had either fainted or fallen asleep; Christian wasn't sure which. He drew in a shuddering breath and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, which he used to gently wipe the blood off her slender fingers and chin. He stared at her pale face, now turned into his vest, ringed with a halo of fiery hair that juxtaposed sharply with her pale skin. What was wrong with Satine?
**Author's Note** Hoped you liked this chapter! Chapter Four will be up shortly. Will the power that's darker than jealousy and stronger than love separate Christian and Satine? Find out soon! ^_^