The Skull Ruler

by Penelope Sky

  But most of all, she was beautiful.

  It was rare for the beauty of a woman to impress me, but I did appreciate art. The piece was special because it seemed so vulnerable, as if she didn’t want to sit for the painting but was forced to. I saw two sides to her—a young girl and a woman.

  There was nothing else in the room more entertaining, so my eyes stayed with the painting until our host joined us.

  Martin Chatel entered the room, thin and pale. He seemed like a man who hadn’t seen the sunlight in years, either because he was too busy working to make the time—or he preferred darkness. He sat at the opposite head of the table, even though that meant he was several feet away.

  I ignored the interesting painting and stared at the man who had summoned us here.

  Martin drummed his fingers against the table somewhat anxiously. “Caspian, it’s been a while.”

  “It wouldn’t feel that way if I had a drink in my hand.” My father’s presence was suffocating at times. He could saturate your mind with words, choke you with his derisive looks. He was a strong and fearless man—which made him terrifying.

  Martin paused before he released a chuckle. “This isn’t that kind of occasion.”

  “I’ve never heard of an occasion where drinking wasn’t involved. Even at my wife’s funeral, I drank like an ox.” My father stared at Martin across the table, burning him with his coffee-colored eyes, before gesturing to me. “This is my son, Maverick.”

  Martin looked at me, his eyes sizing me up. He stared at my blue suit, my well-kept hair, and the priceless watch that sat on my wrist. When he was satisfied with his assessment, he turned back to my father. “I know who he is.”

  I suspected my father brought me to these meetings because he wasn’t as focused as he used to be. Now he was more reckless, more unpredictable. I seemed to ground him, to give him a second sight. Most importantly, I was stronger. Age had made my father weak, but youth made me limber and strong.

  My father tapped his knuckles against the wood. “So, what is this offer I won’t refuse, Martin? You summoned us here without offering us a drink, so you better not have completely wasted my time.”

  “And mine.” Sometimes my presence was dwarfed by my father’s, but make no mistake, I was definitely his son. I was just as cold and just as calculating. Ever since we ended our illegal activities, I’d been living a quiet life running the legitimate family business. But prior to that, I made heads roll.

  Martin eyed us both, wearing a collared shirt and tie that seemed wrinkled. The clothes also appeared too big, as if they belonged to someone several sizes larger. For a man dripping with wealth, he looked dirty and poor—as if he belonged on the street. “I can get Ramon for you.”

  That name was cursed in our house.

  The second the name was whispered across the dining table, my father and I turned abruptly still, our bodies shutting down but our hearts beating faster. There was no greater enemy to our family, no worse crime ever committed.

  I turned to my father and saw the sickly expression on his face, the way his skin stretched over his skeleton as every muscle tightened to the most extensive degree. His eyes steamed like frothed coffee, and his hand immediately tightened into a fist.

  Martin continued to watch our reactions, knowing he’d said the perfect words to entice us both.

  “Your offer better be concrete.” My father forced the words out of his mouth, but his throat was so tight that his words were raspy. There was too much rage for him to hold back, too much anger that surged through his body like a current.

  “It is.” Martin closed his eyes for a moment, like he was fighting a sudden bout of fatigue. “I can tell you exactly where he’s going to be in three weeks. I’ll give you everything you need to take him down.”

  My father had never given up his search for Ramon—for the man who killed my mother. My father’s hand shook slightly on the table, like he was picturing Ramon’s death that very moment. Ever since my mother had been raped and killed, my father had been a ghost. Now he had no purpose for living, and all he cared about was burning Ramon alive. He breathed hard before he spoke his next words. “In exchange for what?” There was no price my father wouldn’t pay.

  There was no price I wouldn’t pay either. We’d spent the last year trying to track down the man who murdered my mother, an innocent person who had nothing to do with business. He snatched her while she was out shopping and did terrible things to her. It made me sick every time I thought about it, and I was glad she was dead…just so she wasn’t suffering anymore.

  When my father didn’t get his answer quickly enough, he repeated his question. “In exchange for what, Martin? If they find out you were the rat, you’ll be done. So, what could possibly be worth the risk?”

  It didn’t matter what Martin asked for—we would give him anything. My father would never find peace until Ramon was tortured and killed. I needed it for vengeance. This man hurt my family—and I would kill his entire family line in retaliation.

  Martin shifted his gaze to me. “I want Maverick to marry my daughter.”

  I assumed he would ask for a fortune. Or ask us to kill some of his biggest enemies. The last thing I expected was a marriage proposal.

  My father didn’t flinch. “Done.”

  I did a double take, shocked my father had consented to this so easily. “I didn’t agree to that.”

  “But you will.” My father challenged me with his gaze, telling me to be silent and accept the terms.

  But I refused. “No.” I held his gaze and didn’t care about my appearance of disrespect. I was willing to lay down my life for his, to do whatever was necessary to avenge my mother, but marry someone? That was a ridiculous request. I turned back to Martin. “What kind of deal is that? Why would you even want me to marry her?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Father snapped. “If that’s what he wants, then fine.”

  I turned to Martin. “Explain. Now.” I wasn’t the kind of man a father would want for his daughter. I wasn’t respectful or understanding. I’d killed people for little to no reason at all. I wasn’t romantic or gentle.

  Martin looked me in the eye and blinked a few times. “Things are about to change around here… I’ve made a lot of bad deals, invested in stupid ideas, and pissed away more money than I could earn in a lifetime.”

  The walls were still standing, but the house seemed empty. He probably didn’t offer us a drink because he couldn’t even afford that. This man had lost everything—and that was why he looked like shit.

  “The crows will descend and take everything away. Then the hounds will take the carcasses. My daughter won’t be safe on her own. They’ll come for her next…and do terrible things to her.” He closed his eyes as if just saying the sentence was too much. He might have lost everything, but his love for his daughter was still alive. “The only way I can keep her safe is by marrying her to a strong man, a man who comes from a good foundation, a man that can protect her.”

  He’d described me perfectly—but that didn’t mean I wanted her. “I’m not looking for a wife, Martin. Maybe you’ve gotten the wrong impression of me, but I’m not any different from the crows and hounds you described. I’m cruel—and I won’t be any different toward her.”

  Martin turned to my father. “But you’re both men of your word. If you promise me you won’t hurt her, that’ll you protect her, then I know you’ll keep your promise. I’m giving you the thing you want the most—in exchange for what I want the most. It’s a fair deal.”

  I felt my father’s gaze on the side of my face, the burn of his eyes as they drilled through my flesh. All he wanted was Ramon’s corpse—he didn’t care what it cost to acquire it. But I didn’t want to take on a pet, a nuisance.

  “You said you never wanted to get married anyway,” Father said. “So it’s not like you’re making a sacrifice.”

  “But I am making a sacrifice,” I snapped. “I don’t want to deal with an annoying brat. I don’t w
ant her living in my house, running her damn mouth, getting in my way.” I knew avenging Mother was the most important things in our lives, but I hated what it had to cost. I turned back to Martin. “Why don’t you take her and hide somewhere? Move to Iceland and start over.”

  “I can’t.” Martin inhaled a deep breath, but it sounded as if his lungs struggled to expand all the way, so he coughed into his hand, convulsing at the table.

  Everything made sense in that moment. His sickly appearance…his pale skin.

  He wiped his mouth with an old cloth that he kept inside his pocket. “I won’t be around to protect her. I’m not sure what will claim my life—a bullet or cancer. But it’ll be one or the other…and it’ll be soon.”

  I almost pitied him—almost.

  Father turned to me. “Martin, give us a moment.”

  I knew how the conversation would go before he even said a word. I watched Martin walk out of the room, and when he was gone, I spoke before my father could give one of his famous speeches. “I want Ramon dead as much as you do, Father. We will find him—one way or another. Our time is coming. Forcing me into this marriage will only speed up the process. Let’s take our chances.”

  Instead of being angry, disappointment filled his eyes. “There’s nothing your mother wouldn’t have done for you—”

  “I know—”

  “Interrupt me, and I’ll shoot you again.”

  My mouth shut automatically because I knew he would make good on his threat.

  “I listened to you, and now, you’ll listen to me. Your mother sacrificed everything for you and your sister. She gave birth to you, took care of you, put up with you when you were little brats. Now she needs us. Are you going to sit there like a selfish little pig when we have an opportunity to do the right thing?”

  “I think Mother would want me to marry a nice girl and have lots of babies. It would be different if she were alive. I would do it in a heartbeat—but she’s already dead. This doesn’t change anything.”

  His eyes were so steady, it was disturbing. “It changes everything. You will do this, Maverick. Or I’ll kill you.”

  I stared at my father as the numbness set in. Ever since my mother had been put into the ground, he’d become a different person. I’d expected him to recover slowly, to emerge gradually from the dark side of the moon and return to the brightness of the sun. But he was progressively slipping away, disappearing further and further into the unknown.

  I still remembered the man I’d once looked up to, the man who wore his heart on his sleeve. He didn’t have to tell us he loved us because he showed it with his smile, with his affection. But now that she was gone, he was gone too. He was just a shallow shell of who he used to be, someone plagued by regret, bloodlust, and terror. I wasn’t his son anymore. I was just a tool in his box. I was just a means to an end. When Mother died, his love for us died too.

  In that moment, I felt like I had nothing left to lose. “Fine…I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Two

  Arwen

  My diaphragm tightened as I hit my last note. With my mouth wide open and my lungs screaming in pain, I filled the auditorium with my strong voice and brought the production to a close, seeing the curtain close in front of me as I finally ran out of breath.

  The lights were bright, roses were thrown onto the stage, and I could see the audience rise to their feet as they gave a standing ovation. The adrenaline I received was more powerful than any other high I’d ever known, better than sex with any man. It was euphoric, dreamlike.

  I watched the curtains close as time stood still. Ever since I was a little girl, this had been my dream.

  To be an opera singer.

  Now I was.

  The curtains closed, and the symphony concluded. That only made the applause louder, the sound of whistling and cheers more audible. I stayed on the spot and enjoyed the moment a little longer, cherished the connection I felt with every stranger in the room. They could have spent their Friday night doing anything else—but they chose to spend it with me.

  ***

  Dante came backstage with roses in his hands. He was tall, handsome, and had the cutest smile, and his eyes lit up as he looked at me. He came right up to me and kissed me. “You were amazing.”

  “Thank you…”

  He presented the roses to me. “I could watch you sing every night.”

  “And I’d love to sing every night if my voice could handle it.” There was already a vase sitting at my makeup station, so I set the roses inside and added some water.

  “So how about I take you to dinner?”

  “Singing for two hours does make me hungry.”

  “Perfect.” His arm hooked around my waist, and he escorted me out of the theater, making this night even more magical.

  ***

  I pulled up to my childhood home and felt the presence of previous generations the second I stepped foot on the grounds. The house had always been large for three people, but now it felt too big for just one.

  I entered the house and searched for my father, noticing how it seemed particularly dark. I carried a fresh arrangement of flowers and put them in a vase in the kitchen, just to lighten the place up. My mother used to be the same way, freshening up the house with flowers directly from the garden. She’d been gone a long time now, but I still carried on the tradition.

  Father stepped into the kitchen, wearing jeans that were too baggy around his waist and a shirt that also seemed too loose. He was paler every time I saw him, sour like spoiled milk.

  He kept telling me nothing was wrong—but now, I wasn’t sure if I believed him.

  “There’s my princess.” He walked up to me and kissed me on the head. “How was the show last night?”

  “Full house with a standing ovation.”

  “Wow, that sounds amazing. This country can’t get enough of that voice of yours.”

  “I don’t know about that…but thank you.”

  He eyed the pink lilies in the vase, giving them just a glance before he turned back to me. “How are things with you?”

  “Good. You know, just lots of work and lots of practice.” I’d been meaning to introduce Dante to my father, but since he was the first man I would bring home, I was nervous about it. My father had always been protective of me, and I wasn’t sure how he would feel about it. But then again, there probably wasn’t a single man he would ever think was good enough for me. “What about you?”

  “You know, nothing too exciting.”

  We moved to the dining table with a pitcher of iced tea and made small talk. I told him that the opera wanted to add a few more shows, but since I needed to preserve my voice, they would use my understudy. We talked about the weather, the football game, and other things that didn’t really matter.

  He started to cough harshly, pressing a napkin to his face as he heaved at the table.

  “Daddy, are you alright?” I placed a hand on his shoulder, concerned that this cold wasn’t going away. It only seemed to get worse with every passing week. “Are you sure the doctors said you’re okay? You look worse every time I see you.”

  He wiped his mouth and chuckled. “Well, that’s a nice thing to say.”

  “Come on, you know what I mean. You don’t seem well… Is there something you aren’t telling me?” Would my father keep something like that from me? Would he lie to my face and pretend everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t?

  His smile faded away as his eyes filled with the distinct gloss of melancholy. Like impending tears in a painting, his emotion was clear in the subtleties of his gaze. Sometimes the cliff face of despair was more obvious than the tears themselves. “I’m fine, princess. But there’s something I need to tell you… You aren’t going to be happy about it.”

  “Alright…”

  “The money is gone. I can’t pay my debts, I’ve screwed over a lot of people, and soon, men will be crawling all over this place and picking it apart piece by piece. I’ve pissed off some scary men…an
d they won’t be happy.”

  I had both French and Italian blood, and I came from a line of wealthy aristocrats I was proud of. Our fortune was massive, and while I never asked for a penny more of it than what was in my trust, I’d assumed it would always be there when it was time to inherit it. “What…? What are you saying? We don’t have any money?”

  He shook his head. “No…not a euro.”

  Money wasn’t important to me, but knowing it wasn’t there terrified me. Without my share of the trust, I couldn’t afford my nice apartment, I couldn’t afford to keep performing because it didn’t pay enough. I couldn’t afford food or clothes. “I don’t understand… How did this happen?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said with a sigh. “It doesn’t change what’s going to happen. Bottom line, we’re broke. That means we’re also in danger…”

  I couldn’t believe this was happening.

  “I’m sorry, princess. I know you’re disappointed in me… I’m disappointed too.”

  I wasn’t anything at the moment. As long as we were both healthy, we could figure out a new plan. I would have to get a day job if I wanted to keep performing at night. I’d have to reconsider my career options now that I couldn’t live off our wealth. It was devastating…but doable.

  “There’s only one way I can keep you safe…and you aren’t going to like it.”

  “Keep me safe? I’ll give up all my possessions and take them to the bank to pay our debts. Whatever it takes.”

  “No, not from the banks. I have worse enemies than the banks…”

  I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to know.

  “The only way you’ll be protected is if you marry into another family, a powerful and rich one, one with enough credibility that they won’t bother with you. You’ll be unattainable.”

  “Well, this isn’t the 1800s, Dad. Arranged marriages are absurd in this day and age.”