by Patti Larsen
“Which wasn't true.” Charlotte's father trembled, hands clenched at his sides, punching his own thighs in a steady rhythm.
“She didn't know,” Oleksander said, tone soothing. “When she tried to reach both of us, Yure blocked her at every turn. And so she returned when Yure said he would do the same to her father as he did to Danilo if she did not accept his offer.”
I could only imagine the war going on inside Charlotte, her need to protect me, her grief for her lost mother and brother, her fear for one of her only remaining family members. Of course she would do the right thing and choose her biological family.
I would expect nothing less of her. But, damn her. I could have helped.
“It is our belief,” Piers said, standing from his perch on the arm of the sofa, coming to stand next to Raoul, “the Czar believed Charlotte was still bonded to you. Luring her here would mean capturing you at the same time.”
I flashed a snarl at Piers. Wished that had been the case.
“He would have had a bit of a shock, I'm thinking.” I let my demon play out a scenario in my mind, one where the over-done palace lay in rubble on the snowy ground and the arrogant and deluded Danko pleaded for mercy at my feet.
Piers laughed. “I think you're right. And he still might.”
“When the Czar discovered Charlotte was alone, the bond broken, he insisted she agree to his terms.” Oleksander shifted in his chair, anger rising, a living thing, feeding the fury of the gathered werewolves. “Back in his clutches and forced to bond to him personally, she had created her own trap.”
“Out of options, her soul sold to save me,” Raoul grimaced as though he wished she’d let him die, “she did the only thing she could do.”
Oleksander nodded sadly. “She kept her honor. And her word. To an honor-less man who doesn’t deserve her.”
Damn it, Charlotte.
Werewolf sensibilities were going to get me into a lot of trouble.
***
Chapter Eighteen
The air beside Piers shuddered with shadow only a moment before Isabelle appeared. I almost jumped out of my seat, a meep of shock escaping at her sudden arrival and, for a heartbeat, I was afraid the gig was up and Gwendolyn and Finlay would arrive right behind her.
But the lack of werewolf reaction to her appearance, the way Oleksander greeted the vampire with a nod of welcome, made my stomach squirm with suspicion.
“You've been working with them all along.” Came out as an accusation and I meant it as one.
Isabelle nodded, biting her bottom lip. “I'm sorry, Sydlynn,” she said. “I'm the reason the werewolves and Steam Union knew where to find you.”
“Sunny will be thrilled to know you're not faithful to your blood clan.” Not fair, really. After all, this bunch proved themselves trustworthy, at least so far. And we had the same goal, to free Charlotte. But my jab had the desired effect, Isabelle's face crumpling in upset as she wrung her slim, white hands.
“I swear that's not true.” She came to kneel beside me, gripping the arm of my chair with tight fingers. “My blood clan is my life. But.” She glanced at Oleksander. “I love a werewolf being held by the Czar and it is my goal to free him.” Isabelle's cheeks glistened with tears. “And I knew if anyone could do so, it would be you.”
Seemed my reputation was getting around all right. And inviting more trouble.
“Please, do not blame dear Isabelle.” Oleksander stroked the girl's hair. “She has been a friend of the Moreau family for centuries, served the true Czars. She has done everything in her power to help and protect us from her father.”
Isabelle twitched while alarm bells went off in my head. “What little power I have.” She said.
“Father?” Oh, tell me I was wrong, that she hadn’t convinced Shaylee to hide her and put us all in danger because—
“It’s true,” Isabelle’s shoulders sagged. “Yure Danko is my father.”
My teeth ground together, the sound so loud I had to force myself to stop before I powdered what was left of my molars.
“And you didn’t think it was a good idea to let me know we were walking you into the lion’s den?” She was so close smacking her would have been simple.
“He would have done nothing to me,” she said. “But I knew if he saw me with you he would use both Charlotte and you against me.” She turned away, still kneeling, rubbing her arms as though cold though there was no way anyone could feel a chill in this room. “My father has hated me since I fled after the deaths of the Romanovs and my crossing to the undead. He considers me a traitor and will do anything to make me suffer.”
“Including hurt your werewolf boyfriend.” So she wanted to hide for him, not really for me. Well, at least now I understood her motivations. “You just came with me so you could see lover boy.”
Isabelle shook her head, faced me again, eyes huge and full of sincerity. What was with these people and their openness? Didn’t they realize they should hold something back?
“No,” she said. “My only thought was for Charlotte. And you. I swear it.”
I told my inner bitch to back off a second and laid my head on the padded wingback.
“Hang on,” I said. “How can you have a were boyfriend?” I looked up to meet Oleksander’s eyes. “I thought vampires couldn't stand werewolves.” At least, according to Sunny.
“I grew up around them as a human girl,” Isabelle said, drawing my attention back to her. “When I became a vampire, it took some time, but I was able to adjust to the feeling of our opposing magicks.” Her eyes shone with the bubbly, empty-headed adoration of young love.
Cynic.
“And when I met Maksym,” she went on, voice practically throbbing with emotion, “I knew I had to find a way to finally free the werewolves from my father’s grasp forever.”
“The Rusak family, Maksym’s line, has been our faithful supporter all along,” Oleksander said. “Doing what they can from inside the ranks of those serving the Black Souls. Maksym is no exception.”
“But he is.” Isabelle turned on Oleksander, now clinging to his big knee. “He told me the Czar was as powerful as ever, that nothing had changed.” She wept, burying her face in her hands. “But I have seen my father, great wolf, and he is not the sorcerer he used to be.”
Oleksander's scowl pulled at his rugged features. “What are you talking about?”
“I'm with Isabelle,” I said. “Whoever is pulling the strings over at the palace, it isn't Yure Danko.”
Oleksander sat back with a loud sigh, eyes narrowing as his beard bristled aggressively. “This must be Vasyl’s doing.”
Interesting. “He claimed he was the security head, but I get the impression he's more than that.”
Raoul growled, the sound of unhappy werewolves echoing him as the whole room shifted.
“He rose in ranks a year ago,” Oleksander said. “He was nothing but a minor power until that time. And then, he was at the Czar's side, whispering in his ear.”
“This we knew,” Isabelle said. “But now that I've seen the Czar, how weak and deluded he's become, I can only guess as well it's someone's doing. And Vasyl does seem the logical choice.”
Were they serious? Had they been ignoring what was happening in the magic world around them? This whole situation smacked of interference, all right.
And I was pretty sure I knew exactly whose fingers tainted this particular pie.
“The Brotherhood.” I slammed my fist down on the armrest, my demon snarling behind my voice.
Oleksander looked startled, Isabelle gasping in shock. Even Piers frowned before swearing softly and turning away from me, head down.
“Seriously?” I looked around at the eyes staring at me. “You didn't expect Liander Belaisle to find a way to worm his way in?”
Oleksander said something in Ukrainian, the wolf returning to his face. “We did not,” he said. “But your suggestion has weight.”
“Danilo died just as Charlotte and I were fighting the Br
otherhood.” Damn it, Belaisle had to have already had his act in place with the Czar and his Black Souls. How did the man stay so many steps ahead of me and how could I possibly anticipate what he would do next? “Why didn't the Czar kill Danilo years ago if he was stirring up trouble?”
No one spoke, just stared at me, mute.
“Because the Czar didn't want him dead. But the Brotherhood did.” So clear, crystal, bright and terrible. “They wanted Charlotte.” To get to me. “Used her dead brother against her.” To get to me. “And now, they are forcing her to marry a man they've manipulated and likely control.”
To get to me.
Deep-fried hate wrapped in a red-hot tortilla.
“This hasn't been about your family.” I surged to my feet, found the room packed as I tried to pace. Forced myself to stand still as my brain churned. “It's about the war that's coming. Another move on the chess board.”
How many people would fall in the crossfire before this was over?
Isabelle sobbed once before rising and taking my hands. Hers were freezing. She'd clearly not eaten, the skin transparent as she clutched at me.
“No matter the truth,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “We must act.” She looked to Oleksander, still holding on to me. “And soon. I may have betrayed us all by speaking with Maksym.”
The gathered weres and sorcerers all gasped, whispered, tension in the room rising. I squeezed Isabelle's hand before pulling free of her.
“We need to change our plans.” Oleksander rose as well, turning to Piers. The young sorcerer looked worried, grim. His gray eyes skimmed over me and to the hulking werewolf leader. “If the Brotherhood truly holds the reins, everything has changed.”
Piers’s head bobbed in a dejected nod. “No matter my best intentions,” he said, “even I know my people aren’t strong enough to take on the Brotherhood.” His eyes met mine. “Danilo convinced me to help his people against the Czar and his small group of sorcerers. But the Brotherhood’s involvement is a game-changer.”
I almost prodded him, resentment toward Belaisle and his people bubbling, making me cranky. How could Piers have missed this?
Because, my vampire sent in her soft, steady voice, he is young and ambitious and just wants to do the right thing.
Jumped before he thought about it out of loyalty or something, my demon sent, words heavy with sarcasm. Sound familiar?
Shaylee’s giggle just made me snarl.
I left the werewolves and sorcerers, walking out into the hall, and not one person tried to stop me. Three doors down, I found a bedroom and sank onto the hand-made quilt, hugging myself in the dark. The room was cool after the oppressive heat of the study, but enough warmth reached it from the raging fire I adjusted quickly.
Wasn't really thinking about my physical comfort, anyway. Not while I fought to grasp the goals of the Brotherhood.
One thing was certain, I needed to talk to someone and there wasn't a soul here who could give me the insight I needed. As much as I hated risking alerting Applegate to my location, I had to. Besides, Mom would be worried.
I opened myself to my mother, shielding heavily with sorcery, letting the thinnest thread of witch magic travel from me to her.
Syd! She grasped onto me with a bear hug, her power surging toward me before I blocked her with my vampire magic. Her mind and magic hovered, shaking with anxiety, at the border to the European territory.
Mom, I'm fine. I showed her where I was, that I was safe. Only then did she back off. I followed her mind on the return trip, found her in her office chair. Well, standing half out of it, face clenched in fear.
Margaret. Mom's mind gasped. She told me you were kidnapped. That she was searching for you. Mom settled, body relaxing as she breathed, our connection so strong I felt her hands unclench from the edge of her desk as she settled in her seat. She wouldn't let me come to help.
How many times had I done what I now did, giving her the run-down on the disaster I'd found myself a part of? As usual, Mom listened in silence, absorbing what I had to say. But this Mom was totally herself, the woman who raised me, loved me, without the touch of the Brotherhood to keep her from hearing all of it.
Mom. I drew a breath, letting it out in a long, slow exhale. What should I do? It felt so weird, having to ask. Usually I just acted, didn't give a crap about the consequences. But she and the Council had given me a massive responsibility when they'd granted me the power to act on their behalf. And I'd finally begun to accept the full weight of what that power meant. One false move and I could start a war that would put all of us in the hands of the Brotherhood.
Coven Leader Hayle. Mom's mental voice crackled in my mind. I thought I told you already, but allow me to repeat myself for clarity. Save Charlotte. And let me deal with Margaret Applegate.
I love you, Mom. I sagged where I sat, arms falling free, hands loose in my lap.
I love you, too, she said. Just do it quickly and quietly.
You betcha. I hesitated. Could I just lift Charlotte from the Czar and leave her people to suffer? Would she let me? Hell, would I let me?
Having an overactive sense of fair play sucked sometimes.
What about the werewolves, Mom?
She sighed, shook her head. Sweetheart... they aren't our problem. I could hear the regret in her mental voice, feel the pain it caused her to say those words. They are on their own. She paused again. For now.
I hated to agree with her. But she was right.
Charlotte it was. As long as my werefriend would allow me rescue her.
I let Mom go, starting as the door creaked open. There was enough moonlight coming through the window I recognized Raoul's face as he entered, head bowed.
He knelt at my feet before I could stop him. “She has more caн than I ever will,” he said, tears in his voice. “My daughter brings me great pride—and accentuates my own shame.” He looked up, met my eyes. “Your kindness freed us from the Dumonts. And I will never forget the sacrifice your family was asked to make to do so.” Uncle Frank almost died, burned by the sun. Did I blame the werewolves? Maybe a little then, for guarding the wretched Dumonts. But not now I understood they had no choice. “I should have stood by you when Miriam was on trial.” He shook as he reached out to touch my knee with one hand. “But I feared for my people, so newly freed. I took the coward's way and I will always, always, regret my decision.” His shoulders twitched. “It is your place, as the one I've wronged, to decide my fate.”
Um, what?
“Though my people would never say it, I know they judge me for leaving you behind.” Raoul's voice dropped to a whisper. “It was only Charlotte's bond with you that saved my caн.”
“It's okay,” I said. Weak, Hayle. But what else was I going to say?
“It isn't.” He bowed his head even lower. “My life is in your hands, Coven Leader Hayle. To do with as you see fit.”
Oh boy.
Before I could act, speak, Raoul offered his hand. “You may kill me,” he said, voice toneless, dead. “Or you can demand I become your пов'язаний. That choice is yours.”
I shoved him away, temper on fire suddenly, threaded through by the grief of what his people's honor had done to them. My feet scuffed over the floorboards as I stood over him, my demon writhing in anger.
“Listen up,” I snapped. “You are your own person. I don't own you, you don't owe me anything. I tried to get that message through the hard head of your very stubborn daughter, and I failed. But I'll be damned if I don't get through to you.”
His head snapped up part way through my speech and gaped at me.
“I don't want your death,” I said. “Or your bond. It's not about having a bodywere, you idiot. It's about caring about someone enough you'll do anything for them, no strings attached.” I turned away from him, stormed to the door as Piers peeked his head in, eyebrows raised. I turned back to Raoul who stared after me, face sad. “It's time you and the other werewolves understood that.”
I joined Piers in the hall, a little bit out of breath I felt so angry.
“Are you all right?” His little smile nearly set me off again, though the touch of his hand as he stroked my bare arm with his hot fingertips cut through my anger.
Shiver.
“I'm fine,” I snapped. “Or I will be once these morons drop the damned honor crap and start getting their act together.”
He nodded, blonde hair swinging over his shoulder, so close to me the silky strands brushed my skin. My demon hummed happily, distracted by his scent and the heat of his body.
How nice for her.
“Come,” he said, taking my hand, threading his fingers through mine, smile still there, a deeper beckoning reflected in his pale eyes. “Let's see if we can start them down that road.”
I should have pulled my hand free. Instead, I went with him, absorbing his warmth while my conscience tsked at me and reminded me I had a boyfriend already.
Didn't I?
***
Chapter Nineteen
We didn't return to the study, but retreated back toward the front of the house and through another doorway, into a wide foyer. I saw an open pair of doors on the far side, more light reaching us, and realized we'd only been in one wing of the big house. I pulled my hand free of Piers’s as we entered what looked like a dining room. But there was no food on the table, much to my stomach's displeasure. Instead, a large map of the countryside spread over its surface, the palace in the center.
It was even bigger than I thought, if I was reading the scale of the map correctly. Had to be larger than a couple of football fields. Who lived in such opulence?
As much as I loved Charlotte and everything, part of me had to agree with the revolution, which brought down the Romanovs, if this was their idea of a country house.
A short, narrow-shouldered sorcerer, his red hair and freckles making him seem younger than he probably was squinted at Piers through his round glasses, a glare of light reflecting from the smooth twin surfaces.