Page 155 of Once an Angel
he looked like the worst sort of pirate.
The primitive spirit of adventure that had sent him to New Zealand the first time roared through his veins. It had taken Emily to bring it to life, to pull him out of the emotional coffin he'd buried himself in. He
had to find her. He'd promised David he'd take care of his daughter, and he intended to do just that, at the expense of his pride, or even his life.
All that mattered to him now was that she was still alive. He had tracked her and Nicky to Melbourne, where they'd switched steamers. He still had no idea why Nicky had veered off for the North Island instead of taking Emily to the palatial kingdom he'd built for himself on the South.
The balmy wind whipped his hair around his shoulders. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, savoring
its salty tang. Its heat and scent had haunted him through the long, cold nights in London, nights softened only by that too-brief idyll when Emily had loved him.
As he opened his eyes, hope stirred within him like the faintest curl of a child's fingers reaching toward the sun.
* * *
The breaking waves slapped at the hull as Justin and Penfeld rowed the wooden dinghy toward the
shore. Justin's men had already boarded the modest steamer anchored off the western coast of the
North Island only to be told a man and woman had gone ashore at sunset.
They followed the curve of the shoreline, not wanting to warn anyone of their approach. Justin's restless gaze raked the shadowy forest. Was Emily there somewhere? Waiting for him?
He pressed a finger to his lips, silencing Penfeld's oars. The dinghy drifted around a narrow finger of sand. A chill touched him to see the familiar bluff and David's cross silhouetted against the violet sky. Penfeld removed his hat in a gesture of respect and clutched it to his chest.
The bottom of the boat scraped against land. In silent accord they climbed out and dragged it up the sandy slope, hiding it between two towering dunes. Penfeld reached around and drew his rifle from its sheath, handling it with surprising grace.
"Stay put," Justin commanded. "No matter what you hear, I want you to stay put. You've got to be
ready to take her away from here if something goes wrong. Do you understand?"
"But, sir—"
Justin shook a stern finger at him. "That's an order, Penfeld. Disobey it and I'll . . . I'll . . . dismiss you."
"Aye, sir," he replied with obvious reluctance. He settled down with his back against a dune and the rifle cradled in his folded arms.
Justin picked his way along the shadows of the dunes until he came to the rim of the open beach. He squatted in the sand, remembering another night, another beach. There was no sign of the natives now. The glittering carpet of beach rolled out before him. A primitive fear knotted his gut as he braced himself to step onto that shimmering stretch of sand and sea, naked to any eyes that might be watching from the forest.
Then he saw it, a light shining through the trees from the hut just as the light had once shone from David's tent. This time he would not be too late. His hesitation wouldn't cost him the life of someone he loved.
He burst from the cover of the dunes and pounded down the beach, sending chunks of wet sand flying
in his wake. Cold sea spray battered him. The beach unfurled in a sparkling ribbon, mocking him with
the serene beauty of the rising moon silvering the indigo swells.
A ghost stepped out from the shadows. Nicky, luminous in a white linen suit and a wide-brimmed panama hat. Justin stumbled to a halt.
He stared, mesmerized, at the graceful flick of Nicky's fingers as he struck a match and touched the flame to the end of his cigarette. The sickly sweet aroma of burning hemp filled the air, and Justin knew it wasn't tobacco he was smoking.
Nicky held out a gold case and raised one mocking eyebrow. "Cigarette? As I recall, you sometimes indulged."
"Why couldn't you have left us alone, Nicky? We were happy together. Why couldn't you just walk
away when you found us?"
A beatific smile curved his lips. "And give up the sheer pleasure of watching you destroy each other? You've always misread my intentions. I never wanted to kill you, Justin. I just wanted to watch you bleed."
