“Shame shame Jacques, returning to the scene of the crime.”
Jacques froze at the sound of Julien’s voice. The sound echoed from every direction bouncing off the walls. A shadow floated to the left, and Jacques spun to counter the attack finding only empty air.
“Stop hiding. Come out and face me head on,” Jacques taunted, in frustration.
Light exploded from every direction nearly blinding him. He blinked against the sudden assault upon his senses, and Julien stood only inches from him with an evil smile hovering on his lips. “It matters not because you cannot win.”
Jacques struck out hoping to catch Julien off guard, but his fist passed through Julien’s image, as if he were a mere reflection on a pool.
“Your only hope is to hand over the pages Jacques. I assume they are not in your pocket,” Julien cocked his head questioningly.
“They will not bring Alain back to us,” Jacques told him, trying to keep the pain from his voice. He could not show any doubt over his own decisions, and he would not show his brother any weakness.
“No they will not,” Julien agreed. “But you will be joining him on the other side, if I don’t have them back in my hands within forty-eight hours.”
“You are still my brother,” Jacques told him quietly.
“I have no brother,” Julien hissed, his words slashing across Jacques’ heart. He would find no mercy and he deserved none. He no longer had the luxury of wondering about Adriana’s memory. He would have to find out for himself.