Page 43 of The Hunter
His brows drew together. “What if there is no risk? What if God, if He even exists, has turned away from you, and so to turn from Him would be no great sin? There would be nothing in the way of reaching for what you wanted.”
Millie blinked, startled by his bleak assessment. “Is that what is going on here? Do you believe God has forsaken you, and so you no longer fear Him? Is that how you’re able to…” She paused, checking on Jakub to make certain he wasn’t listening in. “Todowhat it is that youdo?”
He lifted his massive shoulders in a dismissive gesture. “Perhaps. I have no fear of God.”
“So you do not believe in heaven?”
“This world is all I know.”
“What about hell, the devil? Are you not afraid you’ll have to answer for your sins, for the blood you’ve spilled?”
He shook his head, a more adamant gesture than she could remember him making—apart from the times he’d kissed her.
“I do not know what happens when this life is over; therefore it does little good to speculate. All I know for certain is that God and the devil are symbols. Beings greater than ourselves to be loved or feared, blessed or blamed. And to me it doesn’t matter which. It is an easy thing to commit a sin and say that ‘the devil made me do it,’ and then cast that sin on him. But this life has taught me that we make ourselves into the monsters that we are. That the blood we spill is on our own hands.
“I’ve been able to cast my burdens on no one’s shoulders but my own. Carrying them makes me strong, and I’ve needed that strength to survive. For God has never saved me from the evil I’ve seen in the eyes of men. And it’s hard for me to imagine that hell is worse than some of the places I’ve already been. So instead of fearing that which I do not know, I’ve made of myself a symbol, of sorts. A man to be feared, whose vengeance is immediate rather than ultimate, and for many so-called godly men, my form of justice is effective.” This time it was Argent who seemed to remember himself, and clamped his hard jaw shut.
Millie wondered if that might be the longest he’d ever spoken at one time. Even though his tone had been dispassionate, his words carried with them a cavernous sort of pain. Only hell could spit out such a cold and lethal man, surely.
“Do you mean for me to fear you, Mr. Argent?” she whispered solemnly, not for the first time dreading the devil’s bargain she’d made.
“I do not blame you if you fear me,” he answered, his eyes nearly meeting hers. “But for all that is unknown, you can be unequivocally certain that I do not wish you harmed.”
Mutely, Millie nodded and turned back to her mirror, unable to bear the intensity between them as he watched her smooth crimson color on her lips. A small vine of sadness appeared beneath her ribs and blossomed into compassion. What he must have endured to fashion him into the heartless killer he’d become, she thought.
Millie knew she understood him better now, but that didn’t mean she feared him any less.
CHAPTERELEVEN
“I have to use the necessary.” The boy standing next to Argent bent his knees and blinked up at him with a grimace.
Argent frowned as he glanced from a luminous Millie on stage, to her light-haired boy, and back. “Can’t it wait until she’s finished?” he asked.
“I’ve already been trying, but Mama said not to leave your side. It’s critical. I’m afraid I won’t make it until she’s done with the scene.”
It wasthescene, as well. The one where she died and had to remain on stage for a long while.
Swearing under his breath, Argent glanced around the backstage area. People bustled about in Elizabethan costumes, ducking around ropes, pulleys, curtains, props, and each other. It was difficult to be vigilant with this much chaos. Argent knew he couldn’t relax until he’d taken her somewhere safe.
And alone.
He didn’t want to take his eyes off Millie. He’d known her to be exquisitely beautiful, but before tonight, she’d been just that. A rare and dark gem, sparkling despite the danger and blood surrounding her. Something to be possessed. To bring him pleasure.
Something he coveted.
But now, after he’d seen the passion in her eyes, watched her gesture with fervency and emotion and animated affectation…
“Mr. Argent.” Jakub tugged on his arm with urgency.
He knew she’d be relatively safe on stage in front of a thousand people. Millie had told him that her son was to be his first priority. If there was a good time to take the boy, this would be it. “Where is the closest one?”
“In the dressing room.”
“Why didn’t you go before we left the dressing room?”
“I didn’t have to go then.”
He glanced sharply down at the boy once more, wondering if all children lacked any kind of foresight. “You must hurry, understand?”
