She blinked, tears falling down her porcelain doll face, then nodded, lowering her eyes. “I did.”
“And did you try to twist my mind to serve you?” Felix asked, just as softly. He brought his hands up, still holding hers, and stroked her cheek with the back of the fingers on his right hand, tenderness and hurt mixing in equal parts.
“I did.”
Felix let go of her hands and stepped back. “Then what about your saying you love me?”
Svetlana looked up, her blue eyes flashing with fire and conviction. “That is no lie! Yes, you were supposed to be a plaything, a boy toy that I could dispose of at my leisure, but over the past weeks, you've become something much more to me!”
Felix swallowed, his throat working as he searched to find the words. “And I love you,” he finally said, his own eyes shimmering with tears. “But I can’t stay with someone who lied to me, who twisted me and tried to make me into someone I’m not.”
Felix stepped back toward me, and I lowered my rifle more, reaching for him. “Felix . . . oh my Felix . . .”
He didn't take my hands, but instead looked at me in that same confused expression that he'd had every instant he set his eyes on me. “Your face is familiar, but I don’t know who you are,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
I shook my head, swallowing my tears. “It's okay, Felix. We’ll get you your memories back.”
I took his hand to lead him into the woods, when suddenly the brute behind Svetlana moved, faster than I thought a man his size could possibly move. The gun from his waist was in his hands even before I could turn, and the black, gaping barrel pointed right at my eyes. Felix hadn't even had a chance to turn when the hammer on the pistol fell, and fire spat from the end of the pistol.
Before the bullet could hit me though, Francois was in front of us, his arms out wide and pushing Felix and I toward the woods. At the same instant, our ally fired, his silenced rifle barely making a repeated spitting sound as his burst tore through the brutish bodyguard, dropping him to the ground before he could even make a sound of protest.
“Francois!” I screamed, grabbing him as our friend got to his feet, his rifle aimed at Svetlana. I looked at the woman, who dropped to her knees in fear. “No! Help me with Francois!”
The Romani had no idea who Francois was, he had only known him as Nicolae, his Romani name, but he understood the words 'no' and 'help,' and he lowered his rifle, running over to sling Francois over his shoulder in a fireman's carry while I grabbed Felix by the hand. “We've gotta go.”
Felix paused, looking back at the sobbing blond Russian, who reached out to him with one hand beseechingly. Felix blinked, then shook his head and looked at me. “Lead the way.”
We took off, running as fast as we could. While our rifles were silenced, Svetlana's bodyguard's pistol hadn't been, and we were sure that the shot had attracted attention. Thankfully, Felix kept up, even helping the other man when he tired of carrying Francois. I couldn't see where he'd been shot, but as the Romani talked into the radio to pull our forces back, I could see that a lot of Francois's back and side had already turned shiny and black from the blood soaking into his clothes. “Set him down, he's bleeding out,” I said, reaching a clearing. “Come on, we have to do something.”
Felix set his brother down on the pine needle carpet of the forest, and I reached for Francois's shirt, pulling it open. I didn’t know much, but if we could try and stop the bleeding, it would have to help. Slapping my hand over the hole in his chest, I yelled at our guide. “Get me a bandage!”
Francois's face was pale, but his eyes were clear as he shook his head slowly, a little smile on his face. “It's too late for me, Jordan. There's nothing you can do.”
“No,” I hissed, my eyes filling with tears. “You're going to live. I just got Felix back, I'm not losing you now!”
He shook his head again, pulling my hands off and bringing the blood stained fingers to his lips, where he kissed them. “It's okay. You already saved me. And thank you.”
I could see he was fading, and knew he was right — it was inevitable. With all my mental strength I clamped down on my tears, not letting them fall in front of him. “Thank me for what?”
“For showing me what love really is. I’d never known it until I met you.”
“I love you, Francois,” I whispered. His eyes fluttered, and I leaned down, kissing him on his bloody lips. He sagged back, his eyes losing the last of their focus as his hand fell from my cheek to collapse on the pine needles. I knelt next to him, and let the tears flow until our friend came and touched my shoulder.
“I am sorry. We go. Danger.”