Chapter Twenty Nine

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The temperature in the hangar seemed to have dropped drastically; the hairs on my arms stood to attention. The way Baxter was looking at me; the maniacal glint in his eyes as he regarded me now that I knew his true agenda was...  It was enough to freeze me to the spot.

Whatever Nate had thought he'd been planning, he hadn't even come close to the truth.

"Baxter," Alexandria's voice, small yet firm, jolted me out of my disturbing reverie. I'd almost forgotten that she was here, helping Baxter with this insane plan of his. To think that Nate was so intent on saving his friend from his brother, when she was the one helping him all along... It was utterly mind-numbing.

She placed a hand on Baxter's shoulder. The maniacal glint in his eye seemed to dim somewhat as he angled his head to acknowledge the witch, who hadn't looked vulnerable until this moment.

Maybe because she knew that, once he got what he wanted, Bax would have no further need for her.

"It is time," she announced, glancing at me with an unreadable expression on her face.  "We need to prepare her for the ritual."

He nodded once, and turned to me, a smile forming on his lips that didn't reach his eyes. "I suggest you just sit back and watch the show, Nicki. I imagine there'll be fireworks."

He threw me unceremoniously into the grips on his two cronies and ordered them to 'prepare me', which meant strapping me tightly against one of the hangar's pillars that was closest to the casket with thick rope that wound around my throat, waist and ankles like a snake.  

They were certainly making sure I didn't escape this time.  

Besides, my curiosity was getting the better of me; I wanted to see how Alexandria was going to do this. 

Alexandria came forward with a stone mortar and pestle filled with a dark red liquid that looked suspiciously like blood, and began to smear strange symbols with it on my chest and throat, studiously avoiding my eyes.  When she was done, she lifted her head and met my eyes.  There was sympathy in her eyes, and something else that I couldn't quite read.  Guilt, maybe?  Remorse?  I couldn't tell and, honestly, I couldn't care less.  She betrayed me, she betrayed Nate; she didn't deserve any sympathy.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, tears sparkling her eyes. They did nothing to ease the numbness inside me; it barely skimmed the surface.

"Save it for someone who gives a shit."

She bowed her head, ashamed, and scurried back to Baxter's side.  She protruded an ornate dagger from her dress pocket that looked like it came from the same crypt that the casket came from, and handed it to Baxter.

"When the time comes," she said briskly, turning away from him to face the open casket. "You know what to do."

"How certain are you that it'll work this time?"   Baxter asked, twirling the dagger idly in his hand.

"She is a descendant of the Krakov line; that means the link between her and Anastasia is stronger.  It will work."

"It better work," Baxter growled.  "Remember my promise if it didn't?"

"And you remember your deal when we finish?"  Alexandria retorted.

Baxter rolled his eyes, impatient. "Your freedom is guaranteed, witch. Nobody will bother you after this. You've earned it."

"Including the Fleur Di Lis?"  She pressed.  "You know that they'll hear of this, Baxter, and they'll be after me.  I need you to guarantee my immunity."

He sighed loudly, clearly bored with the witch's questions.  "You witches and your incessant paranoia...  Yes, yes including the ever-elusive Fleur Di Lis.  Now, get on with it."

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