Happy Monday, all! Hope all of you are doing well. Don't have much to say this week, except things are still busy my way.
So I hope you enjoy this next chapter.
Linny
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Olivia couldn't sleep. It was the middle of the night and something was keeping her awake. She should be at peace. The Chameleon was in custody and her life was no longer in danger.
Will had informed her that he was going to be transferred to the prison in Mexico where he would most likely end up living out a very short sentence. The Spanish and American authorities would most likely end up working together to deliver a just sentence due to the crimes he had committed in both countries.
She had hoped that he would be sent back to the states to face trial. However, he had a knack for escaping and would no doubt find a way to slip away from his guard. It was best if he was taken a shorter distance to stop that from happening.
She didn't care. All that mattered was that he paid for his crimes.
And he would be facing his crimes. She had helped make certain of that. That alone should have been enough to make her sleep like a baby. But instead, she found herself staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom. She was wide awake and her thigh was throbbing in an agonizing rhythm.
Before she had gone to bed, Don Alejandro had allowed her the use of a hand-carved wooden cane. It was aged and well-used; it had probably been in the family for generations.
Using it to help her get out of bed, she shuffled over toward the chest of drawers that held her clothes. She probably should have called for Emily to assist her, but she had earned a good night's rest. Instead, it would just take her longer than necessary to dress. Which was why she picked out a simple blouse and a skirt.
She had considered just venturing out in her nightclothes. After all, she had already been caught in an unseemly amount of undress earlier. Thankfully no one had spoken a word about it after the ordeal they had all just been through, but she didn't need to be caught in the same way if one of the servants happened to be moving about the house. She'd managed not to cause too much of a scandal while residing in the de la Vega hacienda. She could no longer see that being the case if she was to be seen walking around in her nightgown.
It took her a bit longer than usual to figure out how to get herself dressed. The main issue for her to figure out was how to step into the skirt without falling on her face. It wasn't easy, but she finally managed it and felt quite triumphant when she managed to button it up.
With that accomplished, she shuffled over to the bedside table where a candle had been burning. She picked that up and made her way out of her room as quietly as possible. The cane made a thumping noise on the floor as she hobbled down the hallway. The house was so quiet that the sound echoed in her ears.
She followed a path she knew quite well. Don Alejandro had made certain that she knew that she had free reign of his library and whatever lined the shelves. It had been a pleasant refuge away from all of the pain and torment that had been haunting her.
As she opened the door, the familiar smell of books hit her like the caress of a lover. The scent was familiar and soothing. In this room, she felt at peace.
Holding tightly onto her cane, she carefully made her way down the three steps into the room. The candle in her hand had almost toppled over once when she misjudged her step, but she managed to right it before she took another.
She didn't bother lighting the candelabra on the desk. While he had been kind enough to offer the use of his office, she still didn't quite feel right doing so. After all, she was an intruder in his life. She had already taken over much of his time and his home. As much as she enjoyed being in this room, she couldn't take it away from him also.
No. Instead, she would choose her book and head out onto the patio. Hopefully, the fresh air would give her some peace.
With her book selected and tucked under her arm—one about a man who joins a tournament to fight for the hand of the woman he loved—she made her way out onto the patio. The small iron table was vacant, its cushioned chairs looking very inviting to her injured leg.
She only took two steps from the door before something made her stop in her tracks. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention, making her frantically search for whatever might be causing it. On closer inspection, she found the patio to be empty.
Yet, something still didn't feel right.
An owl hooted off in the distance, which caused her to jump at the sound. A strong breeze blew through, ruffling her skirt. Other than that, the night was as silent and still as it had always been.
Waiting a moment longer, she realized that her mind must simply be playing tricks on her. The excitement of the evening had gotten to her, she rationalized. Nothing was out there. She was safe and she was just being silly.
She had to laugh at herself as she took a few more steps toward the table.
"It won't do you any good to jump at shadows," someone said from behind her.
A chill as cold as ice ran down her spine at the sound of that voice. It was unmistakable to recognize. Gasping, she swiveled around on her heel. Unfortunately, she lost her balance and the candle slipped from her grasp as she searched to gain purchase. It clattered to the ground while she fought to remain standing.
She couldn't believe it. There he was, standing in front of her with his milky white eye shining in the darkness. It wasn't possible. How? How had he escaped when The Marshals had been all over the garrison?
She tried not to look shocked. She wasn't supposed to know who he really was or what he was capable of. The only time they had supposedly interacted with one another was during her visits with Ramon. And even then, they hadn't exactly shared a real conversation.
Gathering up all of the courage she could muster, she put a surprised expression on her face before speaking. "Oh, Lieutenant, you startled me." She clutched at her chest and laughed as if she wasn't aware that he wasn't standing there with the intent to slit her throat.
His eyebrow gave a twitch in response, but that was the only indication that showed her that he completely didn't believe her innocent act. "Forgive me," he smiled softly at her and slightly bowed his head. Even that simple show of propriety made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. Those two words even carried the threat of murder to them. "I know the hour is late, but there was something I had hoped to discuss with you." He took a step toward her, his smile shifting from kind to cold. "And it seems that I may have picked the perfect moment. Here we are, all alone. With no one awake to interrupt us." His mouth curled up at the corners in a malevolent smile. "How fortuitous."
"It is?" She took a step back from him to give herself some much-needed breathing room. The air around this man was invasive and suffocating. Getting away from him helped her think.
His expression turned as cold as it had been the day he had murdered her mother. The actions of his body, however, were smooth and unwavering. He had come to her with a plan and the will to execute it. She watched as his hand lazily drifted down to his belt. There, a saber had been strapped to his hip. She let her gaze linger on his fingers as they flexed and eased as she anticipated him drawing that weapon.
"I just have to wonder," he continued calmly while his thumb grazed against the well-worn leather of the saber's hilt. "How much do de la Vega and his father know about you?" He began to stalk toward her, now.
She laughed again at him as she tried one more to back away. She leaned on her cane as she took a step back, but her leg was protesting the movement. "I don't think I know what you mean," she told him as she gritted through the pain and tried to put as much distance between the two of them as she could manage. Unfortunately, it was only a few steps before her leg threatened to collapse underneath her.
"Oh, I think you do. Tell me, señorita, just how did you injure your leg?" He slowly drew his sword from its scabbard but only let the cool steel rest upon his shoulder as he continued to grin at her. There was no warmth behind his smile. It was as cold as he was deep down inside.
It was no mystery what his question was implying. He had figured her out. She wasn't surprised. She had known that it would only be a matter of time. After all, he couldn't have been so naïve to think that her appearance in California was a mere coincidence. "How did you escape?"
"I have my secrets. Just as it seems you do." He seemed to find some kind of sick humor in that knowledge as he continued to stand there. Taunting her.
She didn't know what was more frightening. Him when he was actively trying to kill her or when he would just stand there and smile at her as if he had already won. But, he hadn't won.
Not yet.
She still had some fight left in her. "Make one more toward me and I will scream loud enough to wake the entire house," she warned. She could fight him, but with her injury, she was badly handicapped and wouldn't be able to move as fast as she would need to. So she would do the one thing her father had taught her to do when fighting was no longer an option. She would use her words. And hopefully, distract him enough so that she could get away from him.
She glanced around her. The main gate was too far away. The stairs were completely out of the question in her injured state. She could run into the sala, but she doubted that she could get to the secret door in time to escape. Think, Olivia, she urged herself.
"Go ahead and scream. After I'm done with you, I'll take care of de la Vega and his father. The both of them are more troublesome than they're worth." He began to move toward her again. This time he was moving more slowly; more methodically.
She stayed rooted to her spot. "Why are you doing this?"
It wasn't that she needed to know. She knew why. He was power-hungry and greedy. Not to mention murderous and just the slightest bit insane. She just hoped that she could keep him talking long enough so she could come up with an actual plan.
She had concluded that her best bet would be to run back to the library. It had a secret passage as well. And the house was completely dark. If she could move fast enough, she might be able to disappear behind the bookcase before he was able to catch up with her.
She would just have to push through the pain and hope that she wouldn't rip out her stitching. Which, all things considered, would probably be more pleasant than getting caught up in whatever game he seemed to be playing with her.
There was one thing she hadn't considered with this plan, she realized. He was now blocking her way back into the house. She'd been so concerned with finding a means of escape that she hadn't been paying attention to where he was standing. Still, the library was her best option. She just needed to find a way to move him away from the door.
"The same reason why I killed your parents," he chuckled.
She had forgotten that she had asked him a question, but the way he answered sent a chill racing down her spine. The fact that he found humor in taking the life of the people who had raised her made her hate him even more.
"Did you think I wouldn't realize who you are? Walker? The name didn't exactly escape my notice."
She took a few painful steps to her left. He mirrored her by doing the same. She was surprised when he didn't seem to notice what she was doing. Was he so cocky to think that he had her trapped? That would be foolish of him. And for as long as she had known him, he was no fool.
Still, she decided that it was wise to not push her luck for the moment. So she paused and focused on him momentarily. "You make it sound like they had meant something to you."
"I remember every pain in the ass I've killed and your saint of a father was no different. He paid the price for sticking his nose into places that it didn't belong."
"Any my mother?" She tried not to focus on what he was saying. She tried to convince herself that his words were merely those of a madman. He wanted to mentally torture her before he did the same with his bare hands. But, she would be lying to herself if she'd said that his tactics weren't working.
"An unfortunate casualty. She tried to interfere and was, sadly, struck down." His expression turned to one of respect as he placed a hand over his heart. But, she knew the truth. He didn't feel one iota of guilt for the things he'd done.
"So, you plan to kill me just like you killed them?" Her anger was simmering on the edge of boiling over at what he'd just told her. He had just spoken of her parents as if they'd merely been disposable; as if their lives hadn't mattered.
But they had mattered.
To her.
To Will and Sam.
"Yes."
Why had that one simple word made the dread inside of her rise up just enough to make her feel ill? He'd said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And he would probably sleep like a baby afterward, too.
"If you do that, The Marshals will not stop until they hunt you down." Will would not stop until he was the one to put him down.
He shrugged one shoulder, while the fingers of his other hand caressed the hilt of the saber he still cradled on his other shoulder. "Perhaps. But not for a very long time. And by then, it won't really matter, will it? You will still be out of my way." He then suddenly lunged at her, the sword swinging wildly at her.
Thinking quickly, she used her cane to defend herself and blocked the blow coming her way. She hadn't realized that she'd still been holding the book. It slipped from her grasp as she planted the foot of her good leg behind her and pushed him off of her. She then quickly swung the cane as he was trying to regain his footing.
It made contact with the side of his head, breaking in half. She tossed the piece still in her hand to the ground while he stumbled around and cried out in pain.
Now was her chance to get away. As quickly as she could, she ran back into the house, slamming the door behind her. She could hear him cursing at her as she limped toward the library. Her thigh burned and she could feel her stitches pulling with each step she took. But, she had to ignore it and keep pushing herself forward.
She reached the door to the library and grabbed for the latch. As soon as her fingers wrapped around the cool metal handle, the door she had just slammed shut burst open again.
He stood in the doorway, gripping the edges of the doorframe with one hand while his other clutched at the side of his head.
She stared after him for a brief second, wondering if she should still follow through with her plan.
"You'll pay for that," he growled at her and heaved himself forward.
Quickly ducking inside the library, she wished that she hadn't broken her cane. It would have been the perfect length to jam against the door and stall him.
There wasn't enough time to dwell on that, though, she reminded herself as she turned toward the room. She stood at the top of the three steps that led inside the room and muttered a curse. This was going to hurt.
Gritting her teeth against the inevitable pain, she jumped the steps and hurried toward the bookcase. She pulled the lever and gave it a push. It was heavier than she had imagined and had to put more effort into it than she realized.
He kicked in the door seconds later, but she still hadn't moved it enough for her to squeeze inside. Immediately dropping to the floor, she was able to cloak herself in the darkness of the room. There was a hint of light bleeding in from the sala, revealing his dark silhouette standing at the top of the stairs. She remained silent and still as she squatted on the floor while he searched for her in the dark.
"Come out, little mouse."
She cringed at his words. This was all some sick game to him like he was the hunter and she was his prey. Of course, he would have to realize that she was no one's prey. He could search for her all he wanted and he would never find her. After all, she knew this room much better than he did.
First, she would need to find a weapon. Something more durable than her cane had been.
There were the books on the shelf above her, but they not only would do little to help her defend herself, but they would also give away her position.
No. She would have to think of something else.
Moonlight began to filter in through the curtains, casting the room with dancing shadows. The slightest glimmer of light began to dance near the fireplace. Inside the hearth, she spotted the red glow of dying embers. It gave her an idea.
She couldn't immediately run toward it as the light from the windows was just enough to pierce through the curtains and allow him to spot her. No, she would have to draw his attention elsewhere, first.
Reaching blindly above her head, she grabbed a book and carefully pulled it from the stack. The fact that she couldn't run very fast meant that she would only have one chance at this.
She tossed it passed the desk and over to the corner of the room. It skittered to a halt on the floor opposite the fireplace.
His head turned in that direction and a dark chuckle escaped him. "Hide all you want. I will find you." He followed the noise, stopping only when his boot knocked against the book.
Kicking off with her good leg, she swallowed the cry of pain that threatened to escape. She didn't make a sound as she moved toward the fireplace.
Squatting down beside the hearth, she grabbed hold of the fire poker. Carefully, she eased it from the stand. The sound of metal scraping against metal echoed in her ears like it was the loudest sound she had ever heard in her life. But, when she glanced back at him to see his reaction, she realized that he hadn't noticed and was picking up the book she'd thrown.
Clutching the poker to her chest, she watched him closely. His back was to her, now. And she had a choice to make. She could either try to run and alert the house, or she could face him head-on.
He and The Shadow had battled during the attack on the cuartel, but deep down, there was a part of her that wanted to fight him as Olivia. She wanted to show him the anger and pain that he'd forced her to live with for so long. That if he hadn't killed her parents, then she never would have come to California and he would have succeeded in his plan for Los Angeles.
But, her father had taught her that no matter what horrible things a man had done, he must always be brought to justice. Killing for the sake of revenge was never the answer. "Do good things and good things will happen," he'd always told her.
Until this moment, his teachings had guided her to do the right thing. Bringing justice had been her philosophy. But now, as the opportunity was presenting itself, a part of her—a very dark part—was fighting its way to the surface. It would be easy to just end him so he could never hurt anyone again. All she could have to do is come at him from behind and...
She shook the thought away. That wasn't the woman she was. That wasn't the woman her father would be proud of. He would be proud of her for putting her anger aside and doing what she knew was right.
She began to creep to the door, pausing as she watched him stand back up.
"You are clever. I'll give you that."
He threw the book across the room, not looking where it landed. It hit the mantle and landed in the hearth. The impact broke the spine, making the pages scatter upon the floor. The glowing embers blazed to life with the new fuel and suddenly, they began to glow and ignite as a new fire was born.
The orange glow of flames blazed to life, spreading quickly. It spread to the ornate rug in front of the fireplace and continued to fan out uncontrollably.
She wasn't about to stay in this room and get burned alive. Getting to her feet, she hobbled as quickly as she could toward the door. By using the light emitted from the small blaze, he was able to find and catch up with her. He grabbed her by the throat and pressed her back against the wall.
"I told you I would find you."
A clattering sound woke Diego from a rough sleep. The pain in his side hadn't allowed him to get comfortable enough to slip into sleep's deep and blissful embrace. Which made him jolt awake at the noise.
Carefully rolling over onto his back, he listened to see if there would be another noise. But nothing else came. Convinced that it was just a mix of his imagination and a lack of sleep, he yawned and rolled back over onto his good side.
Pulling the sheets higher, he felt himself beginning to drift off again. He was almost back to sleep when he heard another noise. One that had sounded like a man screaming. Then there was the distinct sound of a door slamming shut.
Curious, he eased himself into a sitting position and listened some more. He was almost certain that hadn't been his imagination.
It was another minute or two before he heard that same door slamming open. The sound was coming from below him and his room shook with the force the door was opened with.
It took him a bit longer to get to his feet than normal, lest he pull out his stitches. He pulled on his housecoat and stepped into his slippers before making his way to the bedroom door. He stepped out and frowned. That patio was deserted, but something was off. He could feel it.
He went to his father's room and knocked. "Father?"
Don Alejandro looked dazed and confused as he opened the door and peered out at his son through bleary eyes. "What is it, Diego?"
"I heard a noise. Are you alright?"
His father looked confused at his question but nodded anyway. "Sí." He then frowned and began to sniff the air. "Is that smoke?"
They shared a look of panic and hurried down to the patio. As they headed toward the sala, they came upon a candle on the ground. Diego knelt down and picked it up.
"It's still warm," he informed his father as he unsteadily climbed back to his feet. Don Alejandro helped him up and kept him steady. Placing a hand on his side, Diego gritted his teeth while his eyes scanned the space. Something had happened here, but neither of them was sure what.
"Diego, look." His father pointed a few feet away at the book laying on the ground. He picked it up and showed it to his son. Ivanhoe. It was one that Olivia had been distracting herself with over the past week.
A few feet from the book was a piece of the cane that his father had lent to Olivia. Diego picked that up and examined it. One end was the curved handle, while the other was nothing but splinters of wood.
What had happened here?
There was another, louder crash which made both of them charge into the sala. The smell of smoke instantly assaulted their senses.
"We have to get everyone out of the hacienda," his father stated. He didn't even hesitate to start moving toward the servants' quarters.
Diego followed behind, stopping only when he heard a loud crash come from within the library. He noticed how the door hung at an odd angle as he approached and as he went to open it, found that it wouldn't budge.
Waving his father back over, they both tried ramming it with their shoulders. That was a mistake Diego would instantly regret as pain instantly shot through his entire body. He gasped and groaned for a moment as every nerve ending in his side simultaneously cried out in agony.
Still, the door wouldn't move. Something was blocking it.
More crashing noises came and the door shifted enough for them to peer inside. At that same time, a plume of thick, acrid smoke came billowing out.
Diego tried not to breathe it in as he glanced through the crack in the door. He could see two figures fighting amongst the flames. One was a man, the other a woman and it looked like the man was winning.
"Olivia!" he cried out and began beating at the door.
His father urged him to stop. "It is no use, Diego. It won't move. I'll get the servants out, you get to her."
Diego swallowed back the panic quickly rising inside of him and met his father's gaze. They both knew how it would affect Diego if anything was to happen to Olivia.
"Stay safe, my son." Alejandro gave Diego's shoulder a loving squeeze before disappearing down the hallway.
Diego tried once more for the door, but it was sufficiently blocked. He swiveled on his heel and rushed to the curio cabinet. He tore it open and hurried through the hidden door. As he rushed through the secret passage, each step he took felt like one too many. He only hoped that he would get to her in time.