The Soul of a Rogue (A Box of Draupnir Novel Book 3)

by K. J. Jackson

An unattainable dream. One she shouldn’t even fancy.

  Rune rolled them over, clamping her to the top of his body.

  She buried her face in his chest, in the scent of him. Raw of sex and battle. “I don’t know if I’m happy about the map we discovered.” She whispered the words into his skin, almost afraid to say the thought out loud.

  His hand stroking her hair along her spine stilled. “No? Why not?”

  “If we find it—if we find where the box belongs…it means the end. I’ll have done what I promised Jules and Des I would do. You’ll have done what you’ve promised.”

  “And?”

  “And that’s the end.”

  “The end of what?”

  “Us. The reason we are together.”

  He set his hands on either side of her face and he tugged her head upward so she had to look at him. “The box—the promise you made to Jules—is not the reason you’re naked in my arms right now.” The copper flecks in his eyes were burning, flames hot enough to melt steel. “You still can’t see I love you? You can’t see the possibilities? The future?”

  She shook her head against his hands clamped to her face. “I am trying to, Rune. But after what happened today…I almost lost you. And I cannot do that—lose you. Not if I let my heart go there. I cannot bear losing my world—losing everything—again.”

  The smallest quirk came to the right side of his mouth. “I would be your world?”

  You already are.

  She bit the words off before they left her tongue. Out of nowhere and against all her better judgment and all her fight against it. He had become all she cared about. All she thought about. All she needed.

  But she couldn’t say that. Couldn’t trust it. Couldn’t believe in it.

  No matter how he looked at her in that moment. No matter how he held the world in his eyes—everything she’d ever truly wanted in life.

  He lifted his head and kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry if you can’t see the future, Elle. I don’t need you to, for I can see it for both of us. Returning the Box of Draupnir to its origins isn’t an end. It’s a beginning.”

  She nodded, holding onto the words. Not quite believing them, but holding onto them, just the same.

  { Chapter 20 }

  “You are positive you don’t want to stop by Lord Kallen’s castle on the way?” Rune held his hand out to Elle and she stepped up into the carriage. “We don’t know how long we’ll be gone on the ship.”

  The driver had scurried back inside the dower house to retrieve the one last bag Elle needed to come. Rune had begun to wonder if she thought they were travelling to Paris for all the clothing she had packed. And he had serious misgivings about where all of her trunks were going to fit on the Firefox.

  “We’ve called on him every day in the last week since the ball—I am positive he is well and done with us, though I have never seen his eyes as lively as they have been since seeing the box and looking at the maps. He wants us to get on with this mission even more than we do, I think.” She shook her head. “No, visiting with him yesterday will have to do, as much as I would like to stop by there. He finds goodbyes awkward and has always complimented me on my ability to disappear on him with little fuss.”

  A half chuckle and his eyes pinned her. “Don’t ever think me akin to Lord Kallen. I will always require a goodbye. A long, thoroughly naked, goodbye.”

  She laughed. “You will?”

  “If only to stop you from leaving.”

  “Even if I’m just on a mission to the milliner shop?”

  “Especially then.”

  With a smile on her face and the echo of laughter at her lips, she sat down on the rear cushions of the carriage and arranged her skirts and the pocket underneath holding the Box of Draupnir. “Yes, the conversation we had with Lord Kallen yesterday will suffice as our goodbye. Plus, it will have us leaving the island with him holding you in high esteem. Who knows what he will think of you after your next interaction.”

  “I shudder to imagine it. The man is a dichotomy—impossible to figure out. To think he’s actually pleased with what I did to his nephew.” Rune shook his head.

  “The only thing I believe he finds regrettable about the duel is that he wasn’t the one that pulled the trigger. He has always disliked Sangton, but not until this did I realize the extent of his hatred for his nephew.”

  Her skirts finally settled to her satisfaction, Rune started up into the carriage. “I can imagine most men would hate anyone that was hoping for their death.”

  “Which Sangton has been for years. He’s never bothered to hide his salivating on the title.”

  “Stop right there, you cur.” The shout from behind him cut through the air and Rune spun on the carriage step, all his nerves on alert.

  Walking toward them—horribly awkward, each step a limp with a screech from his lips and his face red and sweaty—Sangton barreled toward them as fast as his heavily bandaged groin area allowed him.

  A pistol waving in each of his hands, his face had twisted into a grotesque mask of hatred. “Move aside, Smith. She’s not going to survive this.”

  Rune jumped from the step, slamming the carriage door shut and blocking Elle from his view. “You had your chance to kill me, Sangton.”

  Sangton’s right hand swung one of the pistols maniacally in the air. “I’m not going to kill you—I’m going to kill the cause of all this—that blasted harpy that set this all in motion.”

  “Rune—”

  His hand flipped up, silencing Elle behind him as his voice dipped to a low growl. “Don’t move, Elle.”

  He had to keep her in the carriage—behind the scant protection the wooded wall offered. Silent and hidden.

  Deadly ice flooding his veins, Rune’s look skewered Sangton, every word filled with vicious intent. “You take another step toward Elle and I will kill you this time. Kill you without a thought.”

  “You don’t even have a gun, you stupid buffoon.” Sangton’s feet stopped, his right hand still flinging about, his finger on the trigger. “Do you not see what she is? How you’ll end up just like me?” Spittle sprayed with each word. “A castrated dupe. You’re an imbecile if you think it will turn out any different with that witch.”

  Blast. Sangton stopped too far away. He needed him closer to attack.

  Rune willed him forward but Sangton stayed in place. Damn, that he didn’t have a loaded pistol on him—just the blades he always carried on his person. His pistols were in the carriage as he’d planned to load them once they were underway to port.

  Both of Sangton’s pistol-holding hands flew through the air. “Move aside, Smith.”

  Rune’s lip curled. “Not on your life.”

  “Move,” Sangton screeched, a mad animal that wasn’t to be reasoned with.

  “I let you live, Sangton.”

  Sangton pointed the left pistol down at his groin. “With this, you bloody bastard? With this? I wasn’t going to kill you—two shots in my hands and all for that bitch behind you, but you make me rethink that, Smith.” Sangton shifted the pistol in his right hand, leveling the barrel at Rune.

  Bloody hell.

  A sudden blur in black rushed in from the left, a gleaming silver pistol thrusting out to aim at Sangton’s temple, pressing into his skin. “Drop your pistols, Sangton.”

  Rune had to blink once. Twice.

  Shit.

  Sangton he could handle. This…this was another mess altogether.

  Hoppler.

  Here.

  “Don’t give me a reason, Sangton.” Hoppler dug the pistol deeper into Sangton’s temple. “And know that the slightest twitch is a reason.”

  “Yes, yes, yes.” Sangton’s voice pitched into a high squeal and his hands went up, both pistols pointing to the sky.

  “Set them on the ground and remember how close I am to pulling this trigger,” Hoppler said, his voice bored.

  Sangton bent over awkwardly and set both of the pistols onto the ground, his hands snapp
ing away as though his fingers were burning. He stood.

  Hoppler leaned into Sangton’s face. “Now step back, you bloody maggot.”

  Hoppler rounded to the front of Sangton, the pistol moving from Sangton’s temple to the middle of his forehead. He glanced over his shoulder at Rune, inclining his head. “Rune.”

  The carriage door squeaked open and Elle’s foot creaked onto the carriage step behind Rune.

  “Get back in the carriage, Elle.” Rune hissed the words in a low rumble meant only for her.

  “Rune, who is this man? Do you know him?” Her foot didn’t leave the step.

  Rune nodded, not turning around to her, his eyes pinned on Hoppler.

  Hoppler looked back to Sangton, cocking his head to the side. “Mr. Sangton here owes me a nice fat pile of coin, don’t you, Mr. Sangton?”

  Sangton nodded, swallowing hard.

  “Looks like you got yourself into some trouble in the nether region, good sir.” Hoppler chuckled to himself. “I would have just killed you, but that seems way more inventive—way more Rune.”

  A burst of rage flashed across Sangton’s face.

  The tip of Hoppler’s pistol dug harder into Sangton’s forehead, shoving him a step backward. “You know what happens to people who owe me money and then displease me, don’t you, Mr. Sangton?”

  A deep breath into his lungs and Rune stepped forward. If Hoppler was going to happen—and there was no stopping it now—then he was sure as hell going to make certain Elle was safe no matter what came next.

  Rune aligned himself next to Hoppler, staring at Sangton. “You ever—ever come within a furlough of Elle again, and you will answer to me, and if not to me, then to him.” Rune pointed with his thumb to Hoppler next to him.

  “But—” Sangton whined, his face turning ashen.

  “Agreed?” Rune looked to Hoppler.

  Hoppler’s steel blue eyes met his look. Mirth. Agreement. Indebtedness. So much more passing between them than the simple question.

  Hoppler nodded. “Agreed. No one touches Lady Raplan.”

  Rune’s eyebrows lifted. “No one?”

  Hoppler shook his head with a slight smirk. “No one. If she’s harmed by anyone, Sangton’s neck is on the line. I’m positive he’s now going to make certain no ill befalls her.”

  Satisfied, Rune’s stare swung to Sangton. “I imagine your carriage is just off the grounds since you surely didn’t ride here. Where were you headed to, Lord Sangton?”

  His face still pale, he pointed to the east. “To Kallen Castle.”

  “And then?”

  Sangton scratched the side of his face, his hand shaking. “Back to the mainland.”

  “Good.”

  Hoppler lifted his pistol away from Sangton’s forehead. “Be gone with you, then, you toad.”

  Sangton spun, limping away as fast as his injury would allow, not daring to look back at them.

  The springs of the carriage behind him squeaked. Rune spun about, but Elle was already rushing toward them, fear in her eyes. “Rune, who is this man?”

  “He’s no one of con—”

  “Hoppler’s my name, my lady.” Hoppler bowed as though they were in the middle of a ballroom.

  She jerked to a stop, her boots skidding on the gravel of the drive, her stare flitting back and forth between Rune and Hoppler.

  Her gaze landed on him. “Rune, did he just say Hoppler? Isn’t that the man that has been after the…”

  His head heavy, Rune nodded. “Yes.”

  Hoppler laughed, slapping Rune on the back. “Buggers, Rune, you’ve been a naughty boy.”

  Elle bolted forward, planting herself in front of Rune, her blue eyes confused, searching. “Rune, what’s going on? He—he’s the man that was after Wes and Laney—the man after us. After the box. You know him? What is happening?”

  Rune could see it in her eyes. Sprouts of doubt, of mistrust. And it was only going to get worse.

  Hoppler leaned his head in front of Rune, looking at Elle. “You know Rune works for me? Always has? Fool girl.”

  “Hoppler.” Rune shoved him to the side.

  Elle’s face distorted, staring at Hoppler, her head shaking. “No. No, you’re lying.”

  Rune stepped in front of her, blocking Hoppler from her view. “Elle—”

  “You didn’t tell her anything, did you? And the chit is in love with you.” Hoppler chuckled. “Fool girl, fool boy.”

  “Stop.” Rune glared over his shoulder at Hoppler. “Stop and leave us.”

  “I need the box, Rune.”

  “Leave us.”

  Elle looked up at him, panic and horror in her blue eyes as she gripped the front of his coat. “Rune—no, this is a lie. A lie. Tell me this is a lie. You don’t know this man.”

  He stared at her. Stared at the destruction he was causing in her eyes.

  Her fingers gripped tighter onto his lapels. “Tell me, Rune.”

  “For heaven’s sake, let’s get on with it.” Hoppler hadn’t moved even an inch away. “Rune gets me that box and he gets what he’s been looking for his whole life.”

  “Hoppler!” Rune yelled his name, his fists ready to swing.

  Hoppler’s hands went up, a smirk on his face. “Just moving things along to the point where I get that box in my hands and can get back to London, mate.”

  “Hoppler, so help me.”

  “So help you, what, Rune? You’re mine on this score. You agreed to that long ago.”

  “Rune?” She shoved herself away from him, tears flooding her eyes.

  He looked to Hoppler, motioning with the top of his head to the side. “Hoppler.”

  Hoppler shrugged and took five steps away.

  Her hands shaking, Elle clasped them across her belly and looked at him. “Tell me. Tell me none of this is true. Tell me you didn’t almost kill Weston and Laney for the box—or let someone else do it.”

  “That—that wasn’t all in my control. Those men didn’t listen to orders.”

  Her head snapped back, horror contorting her face.

  Rune shook his head, stepping in front of her, his chest constricting at the disgust playing on her face. “What Hoppler’s saying…it’s not a lie. I swore I would get the box for him.”

  Her head started to shake frantically. “Why would you do that?”

  “He has something I need.”

  “What could you possibly need so badly that you’re willing to trade the lives of Wes or Laney or Jules or Des for?”

  “None of them were ever going to get hurt.”

  “Never?” She swiped at a tear that rolled down her cheek. “You could never guarantee that—what they did to Wes—to Laney.” Her look whipped to Hoppler, her finger flinging up to point at him. “Why does he even want the box? Doesn’t he know the curse of it—didn’t you tell him?”

  “I know full well about the curse and that isn’t about to touch me as I’ll be passing the box along to Lord Gatlong,” Hoppler said from the not-far-enough-away spot he’d landed. “He’s got grand plans to take over the world with it. Starting with his daughter. And he’s paying me a pretty penny to get it for him.”

  “Lord Gatlong?” Repulsion rolled through her body, making her stagger a step backward for balance. Her look shot to Hoppler and then back to Rune. “My brother-in-law? Jules’s father? And he’s planning on going after Jules?” She jumped forward, grabbed Rune’s arm. “Rune, no. Gatlong is nothing but evil. What happened between him and Jules—it wasn’t good. It was murderous, vicious.”

  “I can’t do anything about it, Elle.”

  Her head jerked back. “So you—you want to hurt them—hurt Jules?”

  “No—heavens no.” His arm flew up at his side. “I never meant any of it, Elle. Des was my mate and then I met Jules when she landed on the ship—I never wanted to hurt them. Never wanted to hurt Wes. Never wanted to hurt anyone. I could never steal the box from them, never steal it from Captain Folback. Not after I knew them. Not after I swore loyal
ty to them, though I should have stolen it away, for all the terror it has caused.”

  “Who are you? Your name isn’t even Smith, is it?” Her eyes narrowed at him, her tears drying as her look went hard, incensed. “Don’t even bother to answer—I don’t believe you. I don’t believe a word that is coming out of your mouth.”

  “And you shouldn’t.” Rune’s eyes closed, his stomach churning at what he had to do next.

  He’d avoided it for as long as he could. But the last sands of the hourglass had fallen upon him, collapsing from all sides to bury him.

  All he could do now was guarantee Elle wasn’t hurt. That she stayed so far removed from this mess that nothing could touch her.

  There was only one way to save her. And it was about to take everything in him to make it happen.

  He opened his eyes to her. “I need the box, Elle.”

  She stumbled backward, her hand on the lump in her left side pocket. “No—you wouldn’t.”

  Sleek, smooth, before she even knew what was happening, he stalked forward, collapsing the space between them. His head bent down to her ear as his left arm slipped around her back to hold her in place against his body. Her body that fit so perfectly against his. Her heartbeat thundering so rapidly in her chest he felt it as his own.

  His right hand went softly to the side of her face, touching it with such stifled regret it sent a tremble into his bones. He didn’t want to let her go. Ever.

  But this was the last time he would ever be able to hold her. Touch her.

  His head dropped for a moment, his nose in her hair, locking into his memory the smell of her, the feel of her body. Every curve, every muscle, the pace of her breath, how it lifted her lungs. He needed to remember. Everything.

  Words choked through his throat in a brutal whisper. “I’m sorry, Elle.”

  Before she could react, he slipped his right hand down and into her pocket, stealing the box out.

  He’d always been a bloody good thief.

  Her eyes went wide and she arched backward against his arm, trying to escape. “You cannot.”

  His stare bored into her, willing her to understand the impossible. Willing her to not hate him forever, even though he knew she would.