Protect: Protect Book 4

by Ryann, Olivia

  What I am drawn to, though, is the tiny figure dressed in white nightclothes standing by the bed. She lashes out, crashing her tiny fist into one of the posters of the bed. She isn’t even looking at me.

  “Hurry up!” she harangues me. “I haven’t got all day! The elephants need watering by midnight.”

  Her words make me pause. What elephants?

  “Ama?” I ask gently. “It’s me.”

  Ama freezes, then turns toward me, her expression confused. “Mum?”

  My forehead crinkles as I take a few steps toward her. “No, Ama. It’s Rue.”

  Ama crosses her arms, squinting at me. Her face and body are still in shadow even as I inch forward. “That cannot be. Rue is a child, like me. You think I don’t know my own sister?”

  Something is very, very wrong here. When I get closer to her, she withdraws a few steps, looking with concern at the high, drape-covered windows. “It is so very dark in here.”

  Moving slowly to the windows, I throw back the drapes. Light pours in, drenching the entire room. I throw back the drapes on all the windows, then turn to my sister.

  Paler and fairer than ever, Ama blinks into the sunlight. The front of her white nightgown is so loose that I can see vivid purple and yellow bruises all along her collarbone. She doesn’t seem aware of it, though.

  She doesn’t seem aware of much at all, staring into the sun and muttering to herself.

  “Ama,” I try again, moving closer. I motion to my collarbone. “What happened here?”

  Amabel looks directly at me, which is eerier than anything else she’s done so far. “Henrick was terribly upset. It wasn’t his fault. He can’t control himself sometimes. It’s not his fault.”

  I feel my brows rise. “Henrick did that to you?”

  Ama nods, moving over to one of the tall wingback chairs. I notice her limping and watch as she sits down very carefully. She winces, which makes me cringe.

  “Ama.” I walk over to her, crouching by her side. “What did you fight with Henrick about?”

  Her eyes start to wander around the room. “I did not think we should consummate before our wedding night, but he showed me that I was wrong. It wasn’t his fault.” It sounds almost automatic coming out of her mouth. She frowns. “Mum, do you think that Rue and I can have some sweets after dinner? We’ve been terribly good this week.”

  Consummate before our wedding night.

  It sounds to me like Henrick raped her, though of course, I can’t be sure. What I can be certain of is the fact that she’s clearly not well. She is addle-brained and feeble.

  I have to get her out of here. That much I know for certain. My mind whirls.

  Can I just lead Ama downstairs and out of the house? Will anyone stop me? I definitely don’t want to bring attention to who I am, but Ama has to leave this place.

  “All right,” I say, taking a cheerful tone. “Get up. Come on. Let’s get you dressed.” I try to think of some reason I can give her that will spark her interest. “We are going down to the street, to find some sweets for you.”

  I can see her reply written on her face before she answers. She screws up her face, pouting. “Henrick said that I should not go anywhere. We are to be wed, you know.”

  I get her to stand up. “I know. Henrick said you could go down to find some sweets.”

  She shakes her head stubbornly. “No. I won’t go.”

  “Ama, please don’t make this so hard—”

  Behind me, I hear the doors creak open. Ivana sticks her head in, scanning the room. After a few seconds, she narrows her eyes suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

  I have to make a split-second judgment of whether or not I trust Ivana. All I can see is her counting the money she just earned selling me out, so a half-truth is enough.

  I clear my throat. “I was just trying to get her up and get her dressed.”

  Ivana comes all the way into the room, closing the door behind herself. “I will do. You go clean toilet.”

  “Actually, I would rather stay…”

  Ivana holds up a hand. “What did I say to you before? You ask for shit job, you get it. Now go, before I tell head butler you were being lazy. He will not like, I think.”

  I look at Ama, trying to think of some reason I can’t leave. But of course, I will need some kind of plan to get Ama out of here. Walking her downstairs isn’t really an option.

  So, I step away, turning toward the door. But Ama tugs at my sleeve.

  “Don’t leave,” Ama whines. “What about the geraniums?”

  My heart breaks a little as I brush off my sister’s touch. As I head toward the doors, my eyes mist over. Ivana looks at me like I’m crazy, but I just push past her, bursting into the hall.

  Looking one way and then the other, I decide that I’ve had quite enough. Heading back into the servants’ hallway, I begin my trudge downstairs.

  21

  Dryas

  I glance out the window of the squalid apartment we have rented, checking out the quiet street below. Behind me, Rue is pacing and pouring her worries out.

  It’s not that I do not care. It is that her worries are specifically for her sister. The same girl that made her cry only a month ago. So, my concerns for her sister and whether she is raped are at best minimal.

  “You should’ve seen her,” Rue says, twisting a handkerchief between her fingers as she paces. “I mean, it was surreal. And I’m genuinely worried about her mental health, let alone the bruises.”

  Her voice is so distraught. Turning from the window, I catch her in my arms and pull her close. Looking down at her, I try to gentle my expression.

  “I know, little bird. You are worried about her.” I brush back a coppery lock of her hair and smile. “It is as Damen said before. During the wedding ceremony, Amabel and Henrick both must go into the church. That is where we will get them both.”

  She looks up at me, drawing in a large breath. Her blue eyes ensnare me, still shining with tears.

  “I know,” she whispers, closing her eyes and leaning into my palm. “It just feels like I am doing nothing. If it were me…”

  I try not to roll my eyes. Rue’s sister knew exactly what she was getting into when she chose Henrick. That does not help Rue feel any better, though.

  “The ceremony is only a couple of days away. You cannot help her situation. No one can. All we can do is be patient.”

  Rue releases an angry sound. “I know, but—”

  Putting my fingers to her mouth, I look down into her eyes. “You know what would be good? It would help your sister — and me — if you ate something. A banana maybe?”

  She crinkles her nose, removing my hand from her lips. “No. That sounds gross.”

  I sigh. “How about some toast, then?”

  Her expression turns thoughtful. “With that marmalade I love?”

  Turning her loose, I move toward the insanely small kitchen. I am glad that she does not want anything fancy because there is not even an oven in here. Just a toaster oven sitting on the chopped Formica counter, below the sagging cupboards.

  “Anything that will make you hungry.”

  I start making the toast, getting the bread out of the cupboard. Rue comes up behind me and hugs me. “I’m going to go lie down for a while. Will you bring the toast to me in bed?”

  The way she is embracing me makes me feel lighter somehow, which is strange. Then again, everything I have felt recently has been all new to me. Closing my eyes briefly, I enjoy her touch.

  “Of course,” I mumble.

  She gets up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek. Then she vanishes into the apartment’s single bedroom. I am left with an uncomfortable lump of emotion in my throat, clearing it awkwardly.

  I am on autopilot for a minute, just completing the steps to make the toast she likes. After the bread is nice and crispy, I spread it with butter and top the whole thing off with jam. As I am licking my fingers and putting the toast onto a plate, my phone chirps from across the room
.

  Halfway distracted, I grab the toast and take it into Rue. She is already buried under a mountain of pillows and blankets, so I just leave the toast on her bedside table.

  When I return to the main room, my phone chirps again. “Okay, okay.”

  I head over to where it is plugged in, picking it up. When I check the screen, I nearly drop the phone. The messages are from a strange number, but it does not take a genius to figure out who sent them.

  Did you think I would forget forever?

  Your girl is awfully pretty. I wonder if I would like her flayed and bleeding out in front of me?

  My fists clench. It is undoubtedly Arsen sending the messages. The number appears to be local, although of course, that can be spoofed. He is probably on a beach somewhere with his girl, laughing at the cold sweat collecting on my brow.

  My phone chirps a final time, displaying a video message. I consider throwing the phone away, grabbing Rue, and leaving the country right damn now.

  My heart is beating so damn fast. I am afraid. Not for myself, but for Rue. I hesitate for another second before pressing start on the video.

  What I see chills me to the bone. Arsen is walking around the square where Rue and I stood only days ago, awaiting sight of her sister. As if he was reacting to me, Arsen looks to the cathedral and grins at me.

  I know that grin, full of derangement and malice. It makes me shudder.

  “It is nice here. I thought perhaps Podgorica would be much cooler, but here I am enjoying the sun.” He pauses, laughing a little. “Why am I telling you? You know exactly what it is like outside. Still, I think that it is nice to develop a little rapport, no? Being that it has been so long since we last laid eyes on one another…”

  The video ends. I swallow thickly, glancing at the flimsy door that leads to where Rue sleeps. Arsen is here, somewhere. And he is unlikely to have forgotten the way I treated his girl less than a year ago.

  All the things that Arsen is mad about, that all happened before I even met Rue. It is not Rue’s fault or responsibility, yet she is the one I am worried about.

  When my phone chimes again, my stomach is in knots.

  I will see you soon, brother.

  Getting up, I go peek out the window again, wondering what that could possibly mean.

  22

  Rue

  On the day of Ama’s wedding, I wake up nauseated. How can I already feel sick when I’ve only just opened my eyes? I groan, realizing that I think it is time to see a doctor. The ever-present nausea, the aches and pains, the constant fatigue…

  There is definitely something going on with me. Though I wasn’t raised to go to doctors, I don’t know that this is something I can fix with a few herbs.

  That fact alone is scary. What if I find out that I have cancer or something like that? I am only twenty-one and I have only just now found Dryas.

  Dread fills my head and my heart, turning my stomach lining to acid.

  God, I will have to ask Dryas for help in finding a doctor. How can I look up into those beautiful yellow-green eyes and tell him that something is clearly wrong with me?

  I’ll have to tell him soon, though. After today. After we save my sister and get out of the country.

  Sighing, I get to my feet. I start getting dressed, then run for the bathroom to puke up the little bit of acidic bile I have in my stomach. After that though, I feel better.

  I dress carefully in wedding attire, a light blue silk dress with a white shawl. My hair is so noticeable but all I can do is braid it and then pin the braid into a bun.

  When I emerge from the bedroom, I find Dryas in his suit, looking out the window with a concerned expression. He turns his head and spots me. His face lights up, eyes crinkling. His reaction to seeing me makes me feel warm inside.

  This man… this is the man that I will love until I die.

  I beam back at him. He steps away from the window, sweeping me into his arms. He bends me backward, holding me up with his strong arms. When he brings his lips down to mine, I kiss him with all the passion the I have inside. I feel as if I can put all my love into one of my kisses and somehow pass it on to him.

  He breaks off the kiss, resting his forehead against my own. He sighs deeply, concerning me.

  “What’s wrong?” I whisper.

  There is a hitch in his breath. It takes him just a few extra seconds to reply. “It’s nothing for you to worry about. I just… I want you to know that I love you.”

  Surprised, I pull back and look at him. “I love you too, but what are you telling me for?”

  There’s a knock on the door before he can answer. He gives me another quick kiss before he releases me, moving to the front door. I’m left with a little frown on my face, trying to decipher what he meant.

  Dryas checks the peephole, something I haven’t seen him do before. Then he opens the door and lets Damen in.

  “We need to hurry,” Damen announces, shooing us both out of the apartment. “If we are going to intervene when Henrick and Amabel are at the church, we will need to be waiting for them.”

  It’s obvious that Dryas and Damen have talked the plan through, probably while I was sleeping. My brow furrows as Damen ushers us into a waiting car. He takes the front passenger seat, leaving Dryas and me to slide into the back seat. The uniformed driver looks straight ahead, focused on his job.

  I lean forward. “We are trying to avoid Henrick though, right?”

  The two brothers look at each other, something passing between them. Damen looks away out his window. Dryas’s brow crinkles.

  “Damen and I have other plans for Henrick.”

  “Other plans? Dryas, what does that mean?” I ask, growing frustrated.

  “He means we will attempt to…” Damen starts before he seems to remember that we are not the only ones in the car. “Dryas?”

  Dryas knows what he means without another word passing between them. He leans close to me, whispering in my ear.

  “We are planning to capture Henrick and kill him.”

  I look at Dryas, stunned. “Why?”

  He leans in closer to me against, his breath tickling my ear. “Because there is enough blood on his hands. He is responsible for your father’s death and that of the siblings you never knew. And that is not even beginning to count Aurelia and the girls before her.”

  Arching a brow, I shake my head. “That was Father Derrik’s doing. He confessed as much to me.”

  Dryas eyes our driver, weighing his words for a moment before whispering them in my ear. “At Henrick’s bidding.”

  “But surely you don’t mean for us to kidnap both Henrick and Ama in one fell swoop?” I protest. “That’s madness.”

  Damen turns around a scowl on his handsome face. “You two are being very loud. I think our friend the driver would prefer if you switched to another topic, no?”

  Dryas just looks pained. “It is decided already. You focus on getting Amabel. We will focus on… him.”

  I lean my head back against the seat. “I can’t believe I got out of bed for this. I could be sleeping right now, you know that?”

  Dryas shakes his head and looks away. “You are tired. You are nauseated. It is always something with you, n’est-ce pas?”

  Damen glances back, his gaze going back and forth between Dryas and me. “Have you checked to make sure she is not with child?”

  Dryas freezes. I splutter out a cough.

  “What?” we say at the same time. Then Dryas and I look at each other, puzzled.

  I can see him doing the same math in his head as I am. When was the last time that I had my monthly cycle?

  God, I don’t know. But surely, it’s just the stressful situations I’ve been in… right?

  “Jesu fucking Cristo,” Damen says, rolling his eyes. “You two are unbelievable. I would bet you are not even using any sort of protection.”

  Biting my lip, I’m not even sure what he is talking about. But his words apparently mean something to Dryas, who turns a
bit pale. Ignoring his brother, he turns to me.

  “Is it possible?” he asks, his eyes searching my face.

  All I can do is shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about… how… that happens.”

  Dryas bites his knuckle, turning away toward the window. For a minute, the whole car is awkwardly silent. My head is spinning. I press my fingers against my stomach.

  Is it possible? Could I be pregnant?

  As I try to think of what I should do, the driver suddenly pulls to a stop. Blinking, I realize that we are across the square from the cathedral, the engine running before a little tourist store selling tee shirts and postcards of the storied church.

  Damen opens his door, getting out. I reach to do the same, but Dryas grabs my hand.

  “I do not want you to go,” he says softly. “Not if you could be with child.”

  Raising my chin defiantly, I fire back a retort. “Nothing has changed in the last five minutes. I’m going with you whether you like it or not.”

  He takes a deep breath. I can see him calculating his best move. When he turns me loose, I am relieved.

  “You will do what I say. You will stay where I tell you to stay,” he utters, never more serious than at this moment.

  He pauses, then reaches for his ankle. Unbuckling a well-worn leather sheath, Dryas presses it into my hands.

  “Carry it somewhere that you can reach it if you need it.”

  I simply nod, not trusting my voice. He shakes his head, then gets out of the car. I follow him as he leans down to the window that the driver unrolls.

  “Have your cell phone on and fully charged. Circle the area,” Dryas tells him, slipping him a wad of cash. “There is more of that when you pick us up.”

  The driver nods and Dryas steps back. As the car pulls out, Dryas and Damen look at one another. I can see some sort of communication pass wordlessly between them, but I have no idea what it is about.