Hello all! Happy Monday before Christmas! I hope you all aren't too busy getting ready for the festivities and are giving yourselves some time to sit back and relax. And I hope this chapter can help with that.

I hope you enjoy it and I will see you all next Monday.

Linny

Chapter Thirty-Nine

She gasped for air as her back slammed into the wall. His hand was tight on her throat and he was beginning to squeeze. That, coupled with the smoke filling the air, made it very difficult to breathe. "I'm going to enjoy watching the light fade from your eyes," he growled into her ear.

She could tell that he had been enjoying the little game of cat and mouse that he had been playing with her. She hated to ruin his enjoyment, but she wasn't in the mood for games. It also turned out that she was a mouse with fangs. "I'm so sorry to disappoint you," she wheezed in response.

Grabbing hold of his arm, she pulled him toward her. The angle allowed her to bite hard into his flesh. She didn't stop until she tasted blood.

He released her with a howl of pain and cradled his injured arm with his other hand.

She was able to breathe again when he released her, but he had been squeezing her so tightly that she'd been on the verge of losing consciousness. She slumped against the wall and slid down to the floor as her lungs begged and burned for oxygen.

She had to spit out the metallic taste of blood before she could finally take a breath. But, when she did, it was the sweetest feeling in the world.

Until she breathed in too much smoke. She broke into a coughing fit as her eyes scanned the room. The fire had spread so quickly that the numerous pages of the books were merely kindling for the blaze. If she didn't find a way to escape that room, she would be engulfed in the fire as well.

"Bitch!" he roared and lunged at her again.

She'd been so busy focusing on her breathing that she hadn't noticed him moving toward her again. He grabbed her by the shoulder and threw her back. She stumbled into the grandfather clock near the doorway. It tipped under her weight and fell over. The wind was knocked out of her when they both crashed to the floor.

She lay there, stunned for a moment, and didn't have the time to recover before he picked her up and tossed her toward the desk. She landed hard against the side of it and bit back her cry of pain. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing it.

A loud thud came from the other side of the door, followed by another. She could swear that she'd even heard someone calling her name, but she didn't have the time to focus on that.

He stalked over to her and grabbed her by the hair. He yanked back until his mouth was right next to her ear. "You are going to pay for that."

When he'd first grabbed her, she'd lost her grip on the fire poker and it had disappeared. She felt it again when her foot hit it as she slammed into the desk. She still had a chance, but she would need to move fast.

He held her steady, but she was facing the desk. Using it for leverage, she managed to get her slippered toes underneath the cool iron rod and kick it high into the air with her injured leg. Ignoring the pain, she caught the poker with one hand and swung her iron weapon.

She felt it collide with his side and his grip slipped from her scalp. He doubled over in pain, whimpering and gasping for air. She'd swung hard enough that she had the feeling that she had broken at least one of his ribs. Good.

And for good measure, she brought her knee up. It made contact with his jaw. He fell back onto the floor, but he was still alive.

Standing above him, she waited for him to open his eyes and look up at her. She showed him that she was still armed if he tried to move. "You are the one who is going to pay," she told him, her tone full of anger and malice. "I've been waiting a long time to see you swing for all of the atrocities you've caused."

He growled in response, one arm shooting out toward her. His fingers latched onto the ankle of her injured leg and pulled it out from underneath her. She fell to the floor and he rolled on top of her. Grabbing hold of the fire poker, he wrenched it from her grasp and pressed the iron bar straight against her windpipe. Using his full weight, he pressed.

Diego had heard screaming. That was what had made him divert his path. Instead of heading straight to the library, he'd turned down the way that led to the servants' quarters which let out just before the kitchen.

Inside, two of the maids—young sisters—were huddled together near the stove. Both had tears streaming down their faces as they held each other. They both looked so terrified that they were trembling.

Kneeling down to their level, he spoke softly to them. "Come on. We have to get out of the house." He held out a hand in offering. One of them—the older of the two—took it and then she helped her sister to her feet.

Quickly, he hurried them toward the nearest exit and passed them off to the matron of the house. He then pointed to two of the male servants who were hunched over and trying to catch their breaths. "Find anyone who is able-bodied and gather as many buckets as possible."

Both nodded in response, but one hesitated. "Patrón, Don Alejandro is still inside."

Diego felt like ice was running down his spine at that news. "Where was the last place you saw him?"

"He was searching the upstairs."

Nodding, he cursed under his breath. He needed to find his father. "I shall go look for him, but we need to get this fire out."

"Sí, patrón," both men bowed to him before rushing off.

Diego turned and then headed for the back staircase. His side burned with every stride, but he wouldn't stop until he found his father and they both got to safety.

"Father!" he called out. The smoke was becoming thicker throughout the entire hacienda. It was becoming even more difficult to breathe and cinders were flying all over. His eyes teared up to ease their burning.

He found his elder making one final pass of the bedrooms, but the smoke was becoming too much for him. He'd covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief, but the smoke was so thick that it did little to help. He had collapsed against the wall and was using it to pull himself along.

Diego rushed to his side and slung an arm around him. "I've got you," he spoke reassuringly and his father leaned into him for support.

It became more difficult to breathe as he half-carried him out of the house. From what he could see as they slowly made their way down to the patio, the fire seemed to be contained within the library. But the smoke was pluming out like a dark cloud. The entire sala was filled with it.

They needed to get farther away. His father could walk, but breathing in the smoke had made him very weak. Diego carried him like he weighed nothing as he pushed open the main gate and led him away from the inferno.

They both fell to the ground once they were far enough away. Fresh air washed over them in a cool caress, but it was too much too soon. As they lay there, they both coughed to clear the smoke from their lungs. Still, the fresh air had never been sweeter.

But, there was still the horrifying sight before them. The vaqueros had rushed onto the scene and worked alongside the servants to gather and fill buckets. They created a chain where each bucket would be passed over to the next person in line in quick succession. Once tossed onto the fire, it could then be passed back to be filled again.

"Did everyone get out safely?" Don Alejandro weakly asked between coughs.

Diego knew the answer to that without having to look around. There was at least one person still inside. "The servants are all safe," he informed his father. He placed a gentle hand upon his elder's shoulder while struggling to get back to his feet. The pain in his side was giving a valiant protest to his efforts, but he ignored it. "Olivia is still inside."

Don Alejandro's eyes widened at the realization of what his son was about to do. "Diego, don't. At least wait until it is contained."

But, Diego's mind had already been made up. Olivia couldn't wait for that to happen. He knew if their positions were switched that she would do the same for him. He had to at least try to get to her.

Sending one last look of adoration to his father, he said nothing. He just waited for Don Alejandro to meet his eyes. When he did, he merely gave a nod before he charged back into the blaze.

"Diego!"

As soon as he ran inside, there was a loud crash as the building's supports began to crumble. He was able to get to the secret passage before the wall that connected the study to the sala began to fall, taking the ceiling with it.

He rushed through the secret path until he came upon the library. The bookcase was already ajar. Had she been trying to get inside to hide from her attacker? That wasn't important, he concluded as he began to push to open the bookcase a bit more.

It was heavy and moved only a bit at a time. He was still weak from the battle and helping the servants and his father get out had tired him even more. Still, he had to get in there. He had to get to Olivia.

A wall of heat emerged as it opened enough for him to squeeze through.

"Olivia!"

He didn't hear a response as he took in the room. The fire still blazed. Everything was ruined. The ceiling had begun to disintegrate because of the fallen wall. Chunks of adobe had fallen from above and now were littered about the floor.

He called for her again.

The fight was over, but there was no clear victor at the moment. And there wouldn't be until he found her.

"Olivia!"

A cough came from somewhere near where the desk had been. It was no longer in one piece. Part of the floor above had collapsed, crushing it.

He heard it again. It was soft and breathless. "Diego..."

He took a step toward her, but his slippers were sticking to the floor. The soles had melted from the heat of the fire. Still, he didn't let that stop him. Using the ruined slippers as a tool, he kicked aside whatever flaming bits were ahead of him and trudged through the rubble.

"I hear you. I'm coming."

Carefully creeping his way through, he spotted her laying face down in the middle of the floor. She was so still as he rushed to her side that he thought she might be dead. The sight of a pool of blood surrounding her made the panic rise even more in his throat.

"No..."

Through the smoke, he could no longer see her attacker and wondered what had happened to him. Glancing around, he saw a boot sticking out underneath a large pile of debris. Whoever was laying underneath that pile could not have survived that.

Turning his attention back to Olivia, he knelt down and gently rolled her over onto her back. The front of her blouse was covered in blood. For a brief second, he lost the ability to breathe.

"Diego!" he heard his father calling to him from the window, pulling him away from his panic. He hadn't noticed originally, but the fire must have blown out the glass. He could see Don Alejandro standing outside while the vaqueros continued to try to douse the flames.

"Bring her here and get yourself out before the rest of the room collapses."

He did as he was instructed and scooped her up in his arms. He blocked out the pain in his side as he cradled her. She was so still and looked so fragile. Unable to help himself, he gently stroked her cheek. She gave no response to his touch.

Tears flooded his eyes as he carried her to the window. This wasn't how this was supposed to happen. She was supposed to return home; become a new woman after catching the man who had killed her mother. She was supposed to live a long, happy life. During which he hoped he would be by her side.

Regret filled him when he was forced to let her go and hand her motionless body over to his father. He and a few other servants reached out to retrieve her. While they were careful and held her gently, Diego immediately wished that he hadn't let her go. He needed to be with her. He needed to see for himself that she might survive.

He watched in a panic as she was carried away from him. No. They couldn't take her. He wouldn't allow them. He began to scramble through the window on his own but found it difficult.

A comforting hand on his arm stilled him. He met the familiar depths of his father's gaze and immediately caught sight of the sadness within him. He was fearing the same things his son was. It was clear as day in his eyes.

"Come on, Diego," his father softly urged as he helped him to come through the window as well.

His father maintained a firm grip on his arm even after he found his footing. It did little to ease his worries. Wrenching it from his grasp, he hurried to Olivia's side.

She was laying down in the grass a few yards away from the house. The servant women were fretting over her as they made her as comfortable as possible on the ground. Diego paid them little mind as he pushed his way through them without apology. When he reached her, he fell to his knees beside her.

"Olivia?" he whispered her name ever so softly only because he could no longer find his voice. "Please..."

Her brow furrowed slightly before she began to cough. She didn't open her eyes and made no other movements.

Diego didn't care as his heart suddenly filled with elation. She was still breathing. She was still alive. That was all that mattered.

His fingers brushed against her soot-covered cheek as he brushed away the hair that blocked her face from him. It almost frightened him to touch her. She looked so small and, for once, so breakable.

"Olivia?" he called her name this time, though his tone was gentle. She winced at the sound of her name but she still didn't open her eyes. "Olivia, look at me," he urged. He wouldn't be able to relax until he could see into her eyes.

She coughed again but did as he asked. Her eyes cracked open only slightly before she groaned and shut them again. "Burns," she hissed before breaking into another coughing fit.

"Water!" he called over to whoever would listen.

A moment later, a bucket of water had been dropped beside him. He dipped his handkerchief inside and gently lifted it to her face. Lightly brushing the damp cloth over her eyes, he removed any lingering debris. He made certain to be gentle as he wiped away the ask and cinders that had gathered on her lashes.

After a moment or two of his tender ministrations, she began to blink a few times to test her vision. She smiled up at him when she could finally focus. "Your bedside manner is infinitely better than Emily's," she joked.

Finally, the heavy weight was lifted from his chest. It was such a relief that it almost made him cry. Instead, he just bent down toward her and rested his forehead upon hers. "I don't know what I would have done if anything had happened to you."

She didn't say anything in response. She just allowed him to hold her for a moment longer. It was what they both needed at that moment. To know that the other was alive and safe.

"Move," a voice urged as a hand thrust against his shoulder. Emily was no-nonsense as she knelt down beside her mistress and checked her over. "Help me sit her up." She talked so low that Diego was having difficulty understanding her.

At least, he thought he was.

"But, she's covered in blood," he protested.

"It isn't mine," Olivia told him as she tried to sit up on her own.

Both he and Emily reached out to help her. The blonde woman began to examine her mistress with a touch that was none too gentle. She grabbed roughly onto her arms, squeezing and prodding at things she thought might be severe injuries. She pressed into Olivia's torso, most likely feeling for broken bones. As she touched an obviously tender spot, Olivia smacked her hand away.

Emily broke into a volley of signs that Diego couldn't follow. He could tell that she was angry, but couldn't understand what was being said.

Olivia followed with a few of her own, which sent Emily off into another flurry of gestures.

She continued to yell at her mistress in sign, which made Olivia roll her eyes in response. She then laughed at how angry it made her companion. Which was a mistake, because Emily was currently checking on the stitches on her leg. She pressed a bit too harshly on the injury which made Olivia cry out in pain.

"Do I want to know what all of that was about? He asked when Emily stopped signing and began her treatment.

"She's just mad that I popped a few stitched and ruined all of her hard work." Olivia rolled her eyes, but then winced as Emily began to pull out the ones that had opened.

She was trying to play it off as if that was all it was, but Diego knew differently. Emily couldn't be that upset because Olivia had torn a few stitches. He knew the two women were more than just mistress and servant. They were as close as sisters. It couldn't have been easy for Emily to see Olivia being pulled out of the hacienda like that.

Diego could commiserate. He had felt like he had been about to die inside from seeing her so still and helpless. It hadn't gutted him to know that he was in danger but he hadn't been able to do anything to help. But she was alive, he had to remind himself. And he was thankful for that.

Emily would come around, he was certain. Their bond was too strong for her to stay angry at Olivia for too long.

A murmur of whispers began to surround them as the workers continued to work tirelessly to put out the fire. Gasps of surprise caught Diego's ears, catching his attention.

"There's someone still inside!"