Last night’s exertions surely would have her sleeping a few more hours. By the time she did wake, I’d be halfway on my way to securing our futures. Taking her with me wasn’t an option in my mind and every moment I was gone was a moment danger could find her, but if she came along, I’d be riding her right into the heart of it.
Outside, I braced myself against the cold and headed around to the stables. The wind had gained strength in the night, and had brought with it a few snow flurries, but the drive and the walk around the side of the house had already been cleared.
“Daniel!” I called out as I slipped in through the doors.
My horse whinnied at the sound of my voice and I smiled.
Vela and I had been together ten years this last spring. I’d been traveling nearly two days, heading east to my uncle’s to start my new life. I saw her the first time from the window of my carriage; tied to a fence post, barely more than a filly, head low, hip bones protruding as her owner, a drunk farmer whipped her flank with a willow branch trying to break her.
For one second, half a second, her deep brown eyes flicked upward and caught mine. Something between us connected and a rage unlike anything I’d ever felt rose up inside of me.
I’d pounded on the roof the carriage for my driver to stop and I tore across the field and laid her owner out with one punch letting him know staying down was in his best interest and coming after me wasn’t.
I took her, holding her lead out the open door of the slow-moving carriage soothing her with my voice until we arrived at the next village. There we’d stopped, staying four days for her to rest, feed and get some sound veterinary care.
I named her Vela, after the constellation that shone in the southern sky that first night unsure if she would make it through until morning.
She made it that night, with me tending to her in the stall myself and when she was bright eyed again, we’d forged forward, and we’ve been together ever since.
She trusted me with her life, and I trusted her with mine.
My friendship with Vela was one of the closest relationships I’d ever had until I met Valeria. The irony that I’d taken Vela without permission the same as I’d taken Valeria was not lost on me.
Daniel appeared from the open back door of the stable with a bow of his head greeting me.
“My lord, I—”
“Daniel,” I started cutting him off. “I’ve told you not to call me that. And for fuck’s sake, take one of the bedrooms in the house, man. There are enough of them.” I shook my head at the sight of him in his working clothes so early. “I assume it’s you that cleared the driveway already this morning? There’s no need when I’m at home, I’m perfectly capable.”
He chuckled. “I like it out here. Besides, the stable’s cottage is as comfortable as any cottage in the village” He met my eyes.
“Seriously, take a bedroom. Take a whole fucking suite of them. You deserve it.” I clapped him on the shoulder.
“I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve all you’ve done for me let alone a suite of bedrooms in a manor such as this.”
I grunted. “What have you not done?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. Just, want to say thank you, I guess. I spent years stealing food from pig troughs before you. Why you took to me that first time we met…” He swallowed and I started to interrupt him but sometimes a man needs to say what he needs to say. “And, whatever you did to save me from the magistrate. Everything. Just thank you.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You done?” I half mocked. “We done braiding each other’s hair and working on our needlepoint?”
His half smile told me he understood. “Done.”
“Good.” I looked back toward the front of the manor. “I have a task for you.”
“Anything to do with the young lady?”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be out of line. When you brought Vela back last night, I watched you run back toward the house. Wondered why, then I saw her standing there...” He shrugged. “Being in such a rush, I wondered if something was amiss, my Lord—” He tried to clip the last word but old habits and all.
“Fucking spies among my friends,” I said with a laugh, shaking my head. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, as that was why I hired you in the first place. And if you don’t stop calling me Lord, we’re going to have problems. And, yes, as a matter of fact it does have something to do with the young lady. She’s very important and it’s no exaggeration to say that she may well currently be in mortal danger. I have to leave, and I have to leave her here. But I want you to take care of her. Once she wakes, anything she wants—anything at all—you get for her. But Daniel, you must not reveal that she’s here to anyone else. I mean it. Anybody at all comes here, the top priority is to keep her presence a secret. You have my permission to use deadly force if you have to, and we’ll deal with the consequences when I get back.”
He nodded. “You know I have your back. Today and always.”
“Good man. Now I’m going to saddle up, I have a long ride ahead of me.”
“Very well.” Daniel nodded, his hand pinching the brim of his cap. The sight of his fingers reminding me…
“One more thing.” I said reaching into the front pocket of my trousers. “Won this in a game. Have no use for it.”
I placed the ring I won from Petre into Daniel’s open palm.
“I can’t accept this.” His eyes wide.
“Of course you can. And you will. You’re doing me a favor. The sight of it makes me sick.”
He gave me a puzzled stare then tipped his hat at me again.
“Ride safe Vasile.” He finished, using my name for the first time.
Chapter 13
Vasile
Vela and I made kick-ass time through the forests; it was no small distance from Bellemore Manor to my father’s estate, but the night’s snowfall left only a light dusting on the higher paths and Vela was as sure footed as any mount I’d had in my life.
I considered going straight to the old man himself, but there were two things I knew I had to do first. Inhaling hard, I found I could still smell Valeria’s juices on my skin.
It also gave me some satisfaction that Petre would never, ever know that sweet scent, but in order to keep her safe, I needed time.
The wedding was scheduled for tomorrow, so I’d need every second of today to get my shit together and plan for what was to come. Most of all, I needed to know my enemy’s situation: if Petre suspected anything amiss with Valeria, I’d see it on his face instantly. Which meant, un-fucking-fortunately, I needed to stop by to see him in his private chambers first.
Jabbing my heels into Vela’s belly, we thundered down the valley. Even as I approached the estate, I saw things were already underway for the wedding tomorrow. There was an artist on a ladder out in the freezing cold, painting the new crest on the stone shield above the main entrance. Our family insignia, a sickle with three stars, sat now on a purple background, rather than red; purple for the royal blood that Valeria carried in her veins, and that Petre would use to his advantage as her husband.
I always thought that the family crest looked like the night sky, the sickle like the moon, and now its purple background only seemed to make that connection stronger.
Presumptuous little fucker.. You’re not married to her yet. And you never will be.
I thought as I slung my leg off of my mare and hopped off before she even came to a full stop. One of the staff I didn’t recognize hurried to take her reins from me and I gave him instructions to take her to the stables and make sure she was cared for until I returned to retrieve her shortly.
The young man nodded and mumbled an affirmative as I turned to march toward the front entry.
As I entered the house, I saw that the new crest was just the start. The place was decked out for the wedding reception, and servants bustled around, hanging purple bunting edged in gold from the balconies around the main atrium.
The old butler, an ancient guy named Ivan, greeted me at the door.
“Sir,” he said, with an exhausted blink. He took my coat from me and dusted off a few snowflakes before carefully hanging it over his forearm.
“How’s everything?” I asked him. “Are your knees still giving you hell? I assume my brother is in his chambers?”
He smiled sadly. “They’re alright, sir. Shouldn’t complain.”
I clapped him on the shoulder warmly. “So, where is he?”
“Asleep, sir,” Ivan said, walking beside me toward the main staircase. “Or, perhaps I should say, he hasn’t yet left his rooms. Will I be seeing you tomorrow, sir?” Ivan asked hopefully. “For the wedding?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. What I really wanted to say was, There’s not going to be a wedding. I fucking guarantee it.
But instead I said a gruff, “Sure,” and ran up the big staircase, taking the steps two at a time.
Rounding the corner to the hallway that led to my brother’s quarters showed me that he hadn’t spent the night alone. A thin girl, sallow and pale, was showing herself out of his bedroom. She wore a silk robe and it hung off her like she was nothing but a skeleton. I shouldn’t have been fucking surprised.
He was a lecherous prick and there was no reason why a wedding would have him change his ways. But even though she was mine, the idea of him going behind Valeria’s back pissed me right the fuck off.
The girl heard my footsteps coming and spun around to face me. I recognized her, but only barely. I’d seen her once before, last holiday season when I’d returned home to spend a fortnight with my mother and father, but back then she looked a fuckload healthier than she did now. She looked so different that it took me a second to remember our previous encounter, but her eyes hadn’t changed: dark brown, sad, mournful. And now she was showing off a brutal black eye and a swollen lower lip.
“I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from this place.”
Her one unbruised eye seemed deeper in the socket than I remembered, and a grayish-red circle beneath made it look like it was set even deeper.
The first time I’d seen her, I’d suspected what he had in store for her, which was exactly why I’d warned her off. It was his standard modus operandi.
First throw some lavish party and invite young girls eager to spend time with the prestigious other guests. Then, from the pickings, find some down-on her luck waif to get in bed with him, then get her hooked on opium and whatever the fuck else. And then treat her like shit with impunity, becoming both her dealer and abuser.
How that motherfucker and I were related, I couldn’t even comprehend.
She looked up at me, wide-eyed and terrified as a sick doe. She was hooked on something and whatever it was, she was hooked bad. Her pupils were dilated but there was no life in those eyes.
“I… I couldn’t,” she stammered softly.
“Get your useless ass back in here now,” my brother snapped from inside the bedroom.
For a long second, she and I faced off like that. Me willing her to do what was good for her and get the fuck away from him, she looking petrified, frozen, stuck between worlds.
“I’ll reward you,” my brother said, his voice smoother, softer. More cunning.
Bastard. For the first time, her eyes sparkled to life and she burst back through the door, leaving it wide open for my entrance. I gave the door jamb a single knock and stepped inside.
The sickly-sweet scent of opium hung in the air, just as I’d suspected. But it wasn’t just opium he’d gotten her hooked on. She scurried over to where he lay in bed, and took a snort of something from that snuffbox-like crevice where the tendons of the thumb meet the back of the wrist.
She inhaled hard and shivered to some semblance of life.
As if she didn’t even know I was standing there, she hooked her leg over his body and straddled him on her knees with her back to me. He ran his pale hands up her body, clearly showing off the bruises he’d left all over her thighs and back. A square-edged bruise on her lower back the shape of a belt buckle was dangerously close to her spine.
“You’re such a piece of shit,” I growled at him.
Petre pulled her down lower onto him, and she curled up in an addicted little ball in his arms. The sleeve of her robe slid up and I saw deep purple bruises on the inside of her bone-thin wrist.
I knew that all this was, in part, to show me what Valeria was in for. But little did he know that Valeria would never go through the hell that this poor girl had been through. Not as long as I fucking lived.
“What do you want?” My brother did nothing to disguise his annoyance at my presence.
To feed you to the pigs down in the valley, you degenerate cocksucker.
I steeled myself against my own rage and sat down in the chair near the door. As much as I wanted to give my brother a bloody bruise in the middle of his fucking face, I knew a better way to get him where it hurt.
What I was about to say was exactly the opposite of what I wanted, but I needed Petre on the defensive.
“Thought I should tell you in person. I’m joining the family business again,” I said. “And Dad wants to put me in charge. I’m here to make it official.”
The look on his face was fucking priceless. Like I’d kicked him right in the nuts.
Petre stormed out of his bedroom, leaving the poor girl alone in his bed. Following him down the hall, but taking my sweet time, I signaled to one of the servants. “Get her out of there. Take her to the east wing, take care of her.”
“Yes, sir,” the maid said, lowering her eyes. “Absolutely.”
“Call Doctor Lucian if you have to.”
“Of course, sir,” she said with a curtsy, and turned back toward Petre’s room.
Down the hall, Petre emerged from his dressing room in a red silk robe, trimmed in gold cord. He’d always been a sucker for silks and gold. I was exactly the opposite.
“You really are such a bastard,” he snarled at me, stomping now into his own private drawing room.
I followed him in there, enjoying watching him squirm. And I took even more satisfaction than usual from it now—all that shit he did to women, all his brutality, it was nothing but show.
Deep down, he was petrified. A cockroach that would scurry way from the daylight.
Welcome to a new day, you motherfucker.
On the long sideboard by the window, the servants had laid out a full spread for breakfast. Warming pans held eggs, sausage, and roasted potatoes. Big silver platters held fruits and jams.
Scattered around the drawing room, eating in three groups of two, were Petre’s hired muscle, some of whom had been at the poker game the night before and from the looks of them, it had lasted all night.
They didn’t so much as greet Petre as he walked in, but a few of them gave me a flick of the chin to acknowledge they’d seen me. I caught one of them eyeing Petre with distain.
If looks could kill.
Oblivious to the palpable air of you are such a useless prick oozing from his hired “friends,” my brother paced up and down the long carpet on the opposite side of the room.
I, meanwhile, assessed the breakfast spread. Not bad, overall. A little too formal for my tastes, but I’d take it. I picked up an apple and took a satisfying bite, then approached my brother from behind.
He had a thing about hearing other people chew. It made him fucking crazy. It was like a disorder or something. And a pretty damned useful one. Just to really get under his skin, I chewed the fuck out of that crunchy apple while he paced.
He kept shooting me annoyed, infuriated stares, which I acknowledged with a glare and more crunching. This was one upside to having been raised with him, the insufferable son of a bitch: I knew exactly how to push his goddamned buttons.
The one button I’d never needed to press was threatening him with joining the family business. Ever since I’d seen the grizzly side of the business at an age far too young for such things—the brutality, the b
eatings, the total disregard for human life—I’d had no interest in it. But now that I had someone I cared about protecting, everything had changed.
Just the idea of my joining the family business had always freaked him right the fuck out; now that he thought I was actually going to do it, he was every bit as terrified and full of bluster as I’d hoped.
“What do you even know about running the business? Tell me that,” he said.
I dug my top teeth into the apple, peeled off a big bite with my lower teeth, and shrugged.
“I mean, you’ve been doing it. Well, with father’s help of course.” I added a few loud crunches for effect. “Can’t be that hard.”
His eyes widened, both pissed off and insecure. Fucking coward.
“Will you put down that goddamned apple?”
I cocked my head like I couldn’t hear over the chewing. “Say what?”
He smacked his fist into his open palm. “Asshole.”
He skipped the breakfast spread and went straight for the scotch.
Progress. I was getting to him. He was losing control of the situation and of himself. But I hadn’t tormented him enough yet. Not even fucking close.
He gulped back a half pour and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. I saw he’d replaced the pinkie ring he’d lost last night with a new one, just as godawful and gaudy as the one I’d taken from him. He probably had an endless goddamned supply of the things, cut off the fingers of “business associates” over the years.
“We’re going to do things a little different now that I’m in charge,” I told him, as I finished off the first apple and picked up a second. “For starters, I think I’ll put you…” I narrowed my eyes, making a big show of thinking it though. “In charge of the warehouses, up north.”
My brother huffed. “First of all, dear brother, you are not in charge. And, second of all, an idiot could do that job.”
I clicked my tongue against my teeth. “Exactly.”
Wild Heir (Fated Royals Book 4) Page 9