Oath

by K. J. Jackson

  Liv watched, horrified as her friend slid from the owner’s grasp, dropping slowly to the ground, her eyes still glowing with madness.

  Liv shoved Tieran’s hand off her arm, moving toward Viola. Moving to catch her. To stop the blood.

  A blast next to her ear. It stopped her, throwing her off balance to the side, falling, filling her head with nothing but an echo ringing in her ears.

  Liv hit the wall, catching herself, and she realized that Tieran had fired the pistol. It hit the owner low in the shoulder, slamming him backward against the red drapes. He slipped down the wall, clutching the bullet hole, grasping at the crimson velvet surrounding him.

  He opened his mouth, swearing, blood sputtering, gurgling out the sound.

  In the next instant, Liv was lifted, flying through the air. Tieran had picked her up, carrying her along the skinny hallways.

  She shoved at his chest, squirming. “Tieran—no—we have to get Viola.”

  He wrapped his arms tighter around her torso and legs, shoving the door open at the end of the hall with his shoulder.

  “She’s gone Liv. Gone.”

  He ran down the rickety stairs, moving through the main room of the brothel, now eerily empty. Yet the earlier haze still hung thick in the air.

  Out the side door, Tieran carried Liv down the alley and moved across the street from the brothel, setting her down onto her wobbly feet.

  Masses of people scurried madcap in all directions around them. Some clothed, some attempting to drag on clothing and boots as they ran. Prostitutes stuffed bills and coins and whatever was salvaged on the escape from the building into the bosoms of their dresses as they dodged through the people.

  Dazed, Liv tried to drag her eyes from the scene but could not. “Tieran—”

  “Stay here. Do not move a muscle. I need to find Lockston, make sure he is clear from the building.”

  Tieran left her side, a boulder moving with purpose through the crowd. She watched his progress, his head bobbing above the mass of people, and saw the moment that he found Lockston halfway down the block.

  She exhaled. Tieran was safe. Lockston was safe. Mr. Niles was retuning the girl to her home. And Viola…Viola was dead.

  It was all she needed to know.

  Liv walked over to a random hack stuck in the middle of the scurrying bodies. Wedging her toe onto the stowed metal step, she jumped up on it, balancing long enough to steal the lantern that hung swinging next to the carriage door.

  Lifting the lantern high, she moved through the thinning crowd, crossing the street.

  Stopping by the front door to the brothel, she looked up at the building. Still fully lit from within, the wooden structure sat still, all people having moved far from it.

  She looked down, kicking the toe of her boot through the muck at the foundation of the building. Bending over, she rubbed her fingers into the muck, then held them to her nose, sniffing. Oil.

  “Liv—no. What the hell are you doing?” Tieran shouted from a distance, his footsteps thundering toward her.

  “You need to get away from there, Liv.” He skidded to a stop beside her, out of breath.

  “No. I do not think I am done. Not yet.” She looked from the building to him.

  He looked ready to pounce, ready to drag her to safety. But he held himself back, resisting manhandling her—at least for the moment.

  “What else do you need, Liv? Heaven to hell—what?”

  She sucked in a deep breath, her eyes going to the building in front of her.

  “Burn. I need it to burn to the ground.”

  He grabbed her chin, forcing her to turn to look up at him.

  She stared at Tieran, letting him see every ounce of the torment still festering in her soul, refusing to let her go.

  He exhaled a hard breath, his grip on her chin tightening. “Is this the thing that will release you?”

  “Yes. I hope. I…” She shook her head, her chin knocking against his palm. “I don’t want to become Viola, Tieran. I can’t become her.” Her eyelids closed, her body shaking with an inhale. She opened her eyes to him. “But I need it to burn.”

  Tieran leaned down, taking the handle of the lantern from her hand. He released her, turning to the building, holding the light of the lantern to the base of the wall.

  After moments of searching, he grunted, standing straight and moving to the mess of advertisement bills stuck on the outside wall of the building. He ripped several down, twisting the paper into a long roll in his hands.

  “Tieran—you can’t.” Lockston appeared out of the crowd in the street, stepping in front of Tieran, his hand on Tieran’s chest. “You can’t just burn down a building.”

  “Is everyone out?”

  “Everyone but the owner—he was still alive when I passed him.”

  “Are the surrounding buildings brick?”

  “Yes. But you can’t, Reggard.” Lockston’s hand on Tieran’s chest gave a slight shove.

  For a second, Tieran looked as though he would strike his friend. Instead, he opened his mouth. “I stand by Liv, Lockston. This is what will happen—what needs to happen.” Tieran’s mouth clamped shut, and he stared at his friend. Stared at him, unflinching.

  Seconds passed, and Lockston gave him one nod, his hand dropping to his side as he stepped away to the street.

  Tieran moved to the front door of the brothel and opened the glass door of the lantern, lighting the end of the twisted roll of paper. Holding the paper torch high, away from the door, he set the lantern on the ground, snuffing the flame of it, and then picked it up, smashing it against the wooden door. Oil splashed everywhere.

  “Tieran—wait.” Liv grabbed his free hand, pulling it toward her belly.

  He turned to her, his mouth a grim line as he held the flaming paper high and far from her.

  “This is not you, Tieran. I refuse to have you compromise yourself, your integrity—who you are. Not again. And never for me—I cannot be the cause of it.” She held out her hand, fingers bending, motioning for the lit torch that was quickly burning toward his fingers. “I will do it.”

  “And you can be sure as hell I am not going to burden you with it either, Liv.” The frown of his lips softened, almost turning upright. His eyes met hers, the determination in them absolute.

  “Tieran—”

  “The point is, Liv, you don’t have to do it. For you, my actions are never a compromise. You are the only one I do not question. So if you say it burns—it burns.”

  Before she could react, he tossed the paper torch at the door and grabbed her in one fluid motion.

  He wrapped her in the cocoon of his chest, lifting her and rushing them from the building. She could hear popping, hear flames bursting to life. A sudden burst of heat moved past them, crisping the edges of her hair.

  Not until they were a block away, a safe distance from the building, did Tieran set her down. By the time she could look past him back to the brothel, the flames had engulfed the structure, licking ever higher through the fog into the sky.

  She exhaled, her chest tightening in pain at what Tieran had just done for her. The compromise of his integrity.

  He stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the flames. “Do not look back upon it, Liv. Do not wonder on the right or wrong of what we just did.” He gently turned her, tucking her under his arm as he propelled her forward away from the brothel.

  Liv exhaled, her feet numbly shuffling along the cobblestone, so slow Tieran had to rein his stride to tiny steps. Her mind as dazed as her feet, she attempted to order her thoughts.

  Her look snapped to Tieran’s face. “You came for me.”

  “I will always come for you, Liv.” His arm tightened around her shoulders as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “Through the gates of hell, I will come for you.”

  “But how did you know what happened?”

  “Mr. Niles. He said he was waiting for you at your townhouse, and then you abandoned him out your back door—oddly
so—so he followed you when you got into that coach with people he didn’t recognize. After he saw where you ended, he fetched me.”

  Her mouth drew, perturbed, to the side. “I both adore him for getting you and I am slightly miffed that he would do so.”

  A grin lifted the corners of Tieran’s mouth. “Honestly, Liv, the man gets a healthy bonus from my coffers to act just as he did tonight.”

  She pushed off from his chest, not escaping his hold in the slightest. “What?”

  He yanked her tight alongside his thick torso. “I mean to protect you always, Liv, whether you realize it or not. Making sure you are always accompanied with someone I trust is part of that. And it was just easier to utilize Mr. Niles for that purpose, since you already trust him, and I don’t think I could have convinced you to give him up.”

  “Trust he has completely lost.” She crossed her arms across her ribcage.

  Tieran shook his head. “The man is more loyal to you than you would ever know. Let us just say he drove a hard bargain when it came to his agreement to alert me if you are ever in trouble.”

  “I hope he made you pay triple what I pay him.”

  “Ten times over, or so he says. It is probably more than that.”

  Liv chuckled. “Serves you right—and where did Lockston appear from?”

  “Fletch was in the main room for the auction. He saw you as you were dragged in, but as he was alone, he was waiting to purchase you in the auction, should it have come to that. It is the safest way to extract a female from that place.”

  Liv looked up at him, her breath heavy in her chest for a moment. “You did not question what I was doing at the brothel—not even seeing that girl with her wrists bound—with what Mr. Niles would have seen and told you.”

  “For all I worry on your actions, Liv, I know you.” He kissed the top of her forehead. “I know you would never hurt an innocent girl. Never.”

  Liv nodded, humbled to her core that Tieran still believed in the good in her—after all she had done—after what he had just done for her, setting flame to the building, sealing the fate of the owner, burning Viola’s body.

  He believed in her, yet she had not been strong enough to walk away—she had needed to see it all burn. Needed it in her soul.

  Maybe she was not so far removed from the madness that had overtaken Viola.

  Liv could not resist craning her neck backward to see the flames as she walked.

  She had dealt in vengeance for some time, but she had never meant to take Tieran with her down that path. He didn’t deserve it. He deserved only the best of her.

  Her stride suddenly halted.

  Tieran stopped with her, stepping in front of her, gently turning her face from the fire to him. He looked down at her, his eyes wary, remnants of the warrior that she had forced to the surface still etched along the lines of his face.

  He waited until her eyes met his, her focus solely on him. “I can see what you are thinking, my love. But there is no higher ground here, Liv. Some things just need to be destroyed.”

  His words hit her—sank into her mind, sank into her belly, sank into her heart.

  He was right.

  And she was done.

  { Chapter 24 }

  His knuckles soft on the door to Liv’s chambers, Tieran peeked his head into her dressing room before anyone answered.

  Her maid absent, Liv sat on a striped upholstered bench at the rosewood writing desk by the window. She stared down at a piece of vellum as she dipped her quill into the inkwell and then set the nib to paper. Her gown, a golden concoction, swept in a graceful fold across her back, dipping between her shoulder blades to highlight her long neck and the elaborate plaiting of her dark hair into her upsweep.

  Tieran stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. “You are ready?”

  Her head bent, she nodded, her quill not stopping its scratching across the paper.

  His fingers itching to trace the line of skin along the top of her gown, Tieran crossed the room to stand behind her, his knuckles gently brushing upward along her shoulder to her neck.

  She softly purred, her head curling against his hand as her fingers stayed busy writing. Lifting the quill from the paper, she turned slightly to look up at him.

  Tieran’s breath caught in his throat. Liv looked an absolute treasure in the gown—a gentle gold, the fabric shimmered with interwoven strands of golden thread catching the light. The color of it pulled the gold in her brown eyes to the forefront, the twinkle of the dress reflected in her gaze as she looked up at him. Sweet and wanton.

  She grinned.

  Definitely wanton.

  Tieran could feel himself hardening, and he clamped down on his wayward thoughts. It was not the time to be focused on removing the gown from her body.

  He looked past her to the paper on the desk. “What are you writing?”

  She sighed, the smile drifting from her face as she looked to the paper. “I am writing a list.”

  His eyes scanned the paper. A list of names.

  Every one on the list, a male.

  Tieran’s gut hardened. “Is this a list of what I think it is?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, not looking up at him.

  Tieran imperceptibly inhaled, stilling as he let his instant reaction quell. Control in hand, he set his hands about her waist, lifting her for a moment before he sat down on the bench and then settled her onto his lap. His voice neutral, his forehead tilted to the list. “Why?”

  Her fingers went to the top left edge of the paper, rubbing the corner between her forefinger and thumb as she stared at it. “I do not want to lose it. Lose what Viola died for—how she got these names—what she sacrificed for them.”

  She looked at Tieran. “Do not mistake me, Viola went far, too far, stealing that girl. But before that, before she broke into madness, she was always steadfast in her need to stop the terror—stop what happens to those innocent girls that are stolen. She just lost her way at the end. Consumed.”

  Liv sighed. “And it seems such a waste to let the list go—it was what she fought so hard for, and I did not want to lose it. I needed to write them all down before I forgot—before I couldn’t anymore.”

  The heavy weight in Tieran’s gut expanded into a pit of fear and fury—Liv could not let this go—yet he willed himself not to react. Keeping his voice level, he watched her face carefully as he chose his words with caution. “And now that you have it, what are you to do with it?”

  She inhaled, the creamy skin of her chest rising above the front cut of her gown. Looking down at the paper, it took her a long moment to answer, the rubbing of the paper between her fingers turning rapid. “I am at a loss. I do not know what to do with the list.”

  Her fingers stopped their motion, dropping the paper to the desk as she turned in Tieran’s lap to fully face him. “What happened at the Jolly Vassal the other night—what happened after we escaped from it—all of that stripped me of everything. Everything I was, everything I have wanted in the past three years, everything that I have done. All of it was gone—and I was left with one thing—one thing alone.”

  “Which was?”

  “You. I was left with you, Tieran, and I knew it without a doubt. You are the only thing that is important to me.” Her hands lifted, clasping the sides of his face. “Our life together—it is what I always wanted—at my core—all that really mattered. I want us. Not vengeance. Not another’s pain. Not imagining the worst in every man I encounter. I want none of it. Only you.”

  The pit in his gut dissolved, lifting to his heart, making it swell. Swell so wide his chest hurt. He was looking at the true Liv once more and his pride in her, his love, his gratefulness that she was right there, his to hold—filled him, choking his words.

  His hands tightened around her waist. “You have me, my love.”

  She smiled, genuine, sparkling so bright she could light a million stars.

  “So can I make a suggestion?” he asked.

&nb
sp; Her dark eyebrows lifted. “Yes?”

  “Give me the list.”

  Her eyes narrowed, instant suspicion crossing her face as her hands dropped from his face. “Why?”

  “With your blessing, I would like to discuss the list with Lockston and Newdale. Will you allow it?”

  “Yes, I can only presume you have good reason.” Her words measured, she swiveled on his lap, grabbing the paper from the desk and handing it to him.

  Tieran waited until her fingers dropped from the paper and it was firmly in his control. He quickly folded it. “Good, because I have already done so.”

  “What?” She swatted his chest. “A rat you are.”

  He laughed. “Yes, maybe I am. But a rat with your best interests at heart.”

  She poked at the folded piece of paper. “What do you intend to do with it?”

  “We want the list so we can take care of it.”

  “Take care of it?” Her golden brown eyes bored into him. “What does that mean, Tieran?”

  He shrugged. “It means it is no longer your concern.”

  “Not my concern—it’s my list.”

  “Not anymore.” Ignoring the indignation commandeering her face, Tieran leaned back to tuck the list into a pocket deep inside his jacket.

  “Tieran—”

  “Liv, you need to stop.” He wrapped his hands around her waist and yanked her closer to his chest. “You need to pretend you never made the list, never handed it over to me.”

  Her bottom lip jutted out. “And you need to tell me more than that.”

  He sighed. He hadn’t planned on telling her anything—didn’t want to tell her anything. Yet the willfulness that had sparked to life in her eyes told him this day would not go quite as planned if he kept his mouth shut. “I offer you this—anything and everything that is done in regards to the list will be done with complete discretion. But it will be done.”

  “You, Lockston and Newdale—why the three of you?”

  “We are men of action, Liv. We always will be.” His hands tightened around the small of her back, the intensity of his words sending a tremor into his voice. “And there is no greater action than protecting our families—keeping our wives safe, making our world safer for our daughters. That is why.”