Blood Oath

by Kit Tunstall

  Anca clapped her hands over her ears. “That isn’t true. I know my mother.”

  He grasped her wrists and pried away her arms. “She left your father, who had much affection for her. He worries about her even to this day. She loved him deeply, but she took you from him, to protect you.”

  “What kind of monster is my father then, that I would have to be protected?” she asked stridently.

  “Valdemeer is a good man. She fled from…others who would do his heir harm.”

  Anca wilted and slumped forward. He still held her wrists, and she was inches from touching him. “I don’t want to know any of this.”

  His expression didn’t hold a shred of pity. “You must know the truth. You have to come back with me to meet your father, before it’s too late. Time grows short, Anca. We have less than a month.” He released her wrists.

  Anca sank into the chair she had vacated. Automatically, her hand went to the pendant under her shirt. She lifted it by the chain, until the stone rested against her hand. It was warm to the touch, and it glowed softly. Specks of gold illuminated the stone, and she frowned. It had never done that before.

  Mr. Golina knelt beside her chair. “Will you come? I have us booked on a midnight flight.”

  Anca bit her lip, torn between the chance to meet a man she had thought was dead and the opportunity to hurt him as he had hurt her, by rejecting his dying wish. She sighed, knowing there would be little satisfaction in denying him. Her pride would be cold comfort after his death, when it was too late to meet him if she changed her mind.

  She nodded slowly. “I’ll come.”

  A small smile lifted his lips. “Excellent, Anca.”

  She frowned at him. “What’s he like, Mr. Golina?”

  He shrugged. “Valdemeer is a difficult man to describe. You will see for yourself soon enough.” He rose to a standing position and offered her a hand.

  Anca took it reluctantly, preparing herself for an onslaught of visions. Nothing happened. She stood up, but when she tried to loosen his hold, he grasped her hand more firmly. She stared up at him with confusion.

  “We will be good friends, Anca. I would very much like it if you called me Demi.”

  She nodded, grateful she didn’t blurt out what she was thinking. If the revelation were true, they would be more than friends. A lot more, indeed.

  Chapter 2

  Demi waited without speaking as Anca went through the nightly procedures to close the store. Once she had washed the tea items and put the deposit in a night drop bag, she walked to the front of the store to double check the lock he’d said he clicked. It was secure, and when she turned around, she found him standing too close for comfort. Her heart rate sped up.

  “You didn’t believe me?” The question might have been irritating, if his attitude hadn’t indicated he didn’t care if she believed him.

  Anca shrugged. “This is my livelihood, Mr.—Demi. It’s not a matter of trust.”

  He inclined his head. “I understand.”

  “My mother and I live above the store.” She gestured he should follow her as she made her way into the backroom. They passed through the mini-kitchen/lounge with the foldout sofa and walked to the staircase. “I’ll need to speak with her.”

  She could feel him following her up the stairs, just a hair’s breadth away. Anca bit her lip, concentrating on the worn carpet and stepping onto each stair. His cologne smelled of the outdoors, and she had the impulse to turn around and bury her nose in the hollow of his throat.

  Anca blinked the thought away as they stepped onto the second-floor landing. He brushed against her back, and she caught her breath. A surge of emotion followed the light contact, and she cleared her throat to regain her focus.

  She turned to face him before they entered the living room cordoned off by a thick curtain. “My mother is fragile. I would appreciate it if you don’t upset her.”

  Demi’s brow arched. “Won’t your news upset her?”

  Anca shook her head. “I won’t tell her where I’m going.”

  He frowned. “She is your mother. Surely, she should know.”

  She sighed. “Please, trust me. She had a bypass earlier this year and doesn’t need the stress.”

  He hesitated before nodding once. She took it for a yes, slid open the curtain, and entered the confines of the small living room.

  The TV was on, but the lights were off. Kathryn was curled on the couch, clutching a tissue to her breast as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Anca glanced at the TV and saw a black-and-white movie playing. Her mother was sentimental about such things. She felt for the light switch and flipped it. Dim light from the forty-watt bulb illuminated the room. “Mother, we have a visitor.”

  Kathryn’s head whipped up, and she crushed the tissue in a tighter hold. Her thin face was almost as pale as the white Kleenex, except for the purple bags under her eyes. She frowned at Demi. “Who’s he?”

  Anca realized her mother and Demi had the same accent, though Kathryn’s had softened during the time she had lived in America. “This is Mr. Golina.”

  He bowed to her. “Madam.”

  Kathryn wore a frown, and her brow was furrowed. “Golina,” she repeated softly.

  “I’ll be going on a short business trip, Mother.”

  Kathryn’s eyes widened, and she shifted her gaze from Demi to Anca. “What? Why?”

  “Mr. Golina knows of a rare herb perfect for tea, and it grows only in his country. He’s offered to show me where I can find it.” Anca felt the story flow from her tongue easily. It almost felt like they hadn’t been her words. She tensed, waiting to see if her mother would question her excuse.

  Her mother’s frown deepened, but she didn’t dispute the reason for the trip. “How long will you be gone?”

  “Several weeks.” Demi’s quiet tone brooked no argument.

  Anca’s eyes widened, and she shot him a look. “I can’t possibly stay that long, Mr. Golina.”

  “Anything less would be unacceptable,” he said softly.

  “I have a business to run, a life here in New York. I can’t stay for more than a few days.”

  He looked annoyed, and his mouth opened. His eyes darted to Kathryn before moving back to Anca, and he closed his mouth with a click. He nodded. “If that’s all the time you can spare, it will be appreciated.”

  She sighed at the averted argument, though she couldn’t help wondering if he would resurrect it when they were out of her mother’s presence. “I’ll be back within a week, Mother.”

  “I can run the shop for you.”

  Anca swallowed down an automatic no and forced herself to nod, knowing her mother wouldn’t appreciate being coddled. “I would be grateful if you booked appointments and handled the customers. There are two-dozen orders of specialty teas waiting to mail out to customers. You’ll find the boxes and invoices in my office. Please call my clients booked for readings this week and tell them I’ll reschedule when I return. Offer them a twenty-five-percent discount.”

  Kathryn nodded, and once again, her gaze moved to Demi. “Your name is familiar to me, Mr. Golina.”

  “Hmm,” he said, without meeting her eyes.

  “I’ll go pack,” Anca told Demi.

  Her mother frowned. “You’re leaving tonight?”

  She nodded. “The flight is at midnight.”

  “Where are you going?” Kathryn sounded strained.

  “Romania,” Demi said. “The flight lands in Constanta.”

  Anca nodded again. “If you’ll excuse me?” She left the living room before either could protest or add something more. She hoped Demi would keep his silence about who he was and where they were going.

  * * * * *

  Katrine didn’t speak or issue an invitation to sit. Demi sat down on a lumpy chair after standing for a moment in her presence. She stared at him with wide brown eyes, as she nibbled on her lower lip.

  Valdemeer had asked him to note Katrine’s appearance and living condit
ions. He would be expecting a full report on his wife, and Demi knew he wouldn’t be pleased to hear she had been sick, or they lived at a level well below what should have been theirs by right.

  “I know who you are,” she said with sad resignation, though a hint of anger darkened her eyes. Katrine’s face drew into a scowl. “Little Nicodemus, all grown up. You’ve come to take my daughter.” She made it a statement, not a question.

  He weighed his promise to Anca not to upset her mother against outright lying. He sighed. “Yes, m’lady.”

  She laughed, and it was a hard sound. “I am no lady here.”

  “You will always be my queen.”

  She swallowed, and the edge of resentment seemed to leave her face and voice. “Did Valdemeer remarry?”

  He shook his head.

  Katrine closed her eyes and grasped a strand of rosary beads. She seemed to be praying. When she opened them and met his gaze, she shook the strand. “I converted when we arrived in New York. A priest was kind to me. He helped me find work and get settled.”

  “His Majesty would have seen to your comforts.”

  She shrugged. “What right did I have to take anything from him?” Her voice dropped. “Haven’t I taken enough, dear boy?”

  He left her question unanswered, except to say, “Perhaps your reasons were compelling, madam.”

  She sighed heavily. “Why are you here?”

  “His Majesty wishes to meet Anca.” He hesitated over saying anything more. Finally, he added. “He’s ready to die.”

  “Mary, Mother of God,” she whispered as she crossed herself. “It’s time, isn’t it?”

  He nodded, wondering if she would attempt to stop it.

  Katrine sat up slowly and leaned forward. She dropped the tissue on the table before grasping one of his hands in hers. “You will guard her, won’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “Valdemeer chose you as her Protector during your journey?”

  Demi nodded again. “But I’m more than that.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re her lifemate, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, m’lady, if she will have me.”

  Tears slipped from the corner of Katrine’s eyes. “I won’t see him again. I always thought someday…”

  “Come with us,” he said impulsively. “You would be a comfort to Valdemeer.”

  Katrine shook her head. “I can’t be there for it. I know what happens when she takes the Blood Oath.”

  Demi squeezed her hand. “He’ll understand.”

  “Tell him…” she trailed off.

  “I will relay any message you wish, m’lady.”

  She released his hand to brush the tears from her cheeks. “Tell him I am sorry, and I love him. I know I wasn’t his destined lifemate, but I wanted to make him happy.” She sniffed. When she regained her composure, she said, “He knows the rest, I pray.”

  “I’m sure he does.” Demi hesitated, feeling the need to comfort the woman. “I think Valdemeer loved you as much he could…he held great affection for you, m’lady.” He winced at how insensitive that sounded. “I mean, with Madra—”

  “Shh, dear boy, I know what you mean.” A faint smile crossed Katrine’s lips. “He could never love me as much as he loved her, but he loved me well enough. If only…” She blinked, and her eyes cleared. “I am entrusting my daughter to you. I invoke you to uphold your vow to protect her.”

  “With my life,” he said solemnly.

  Her lips trembled, and she took a moment to speak. “More than that, I implore you to treat her well and love her.”

  “With all my heart.” Demi’s eyes didn’t shift from her gaze, and he allowed a hint of his emotions to show.

  Katrine nodded, apparently satisfied.

  Chapter 3

  Despite the luxurious seating in first class, Anca’s legs hurt from being on the plane for nearly two days. As soon as they were inside the terminal at Kogalniceanu Airport in Constanta, she set down her carryon and stretched. The muscles in her back loosened gradually, and her legs stopped cramping.

  As she twisted her neck, Anca looked in Demi’s direction and discovered his gaze rested on her breasts. She froze, waiting for a reaction. He didn’t seem to realize she had caught him yet, and his eyes remained focused on her nipples, poking through her white shirt. The thin cotton clearly revealed the outline of her lacy bra, and his eyes didn’t deviate from the sight.

  Experimentally, she thrust forward her chest, under the guise of stretching her back again. His eyes widened, and he stiffened. Abruptly, his gaze moved from her chest to her face. His expression was inscrutable.

  Anca hastily broke eye contact and bent down to lift her case, wondering at her impulse to tempt him. Why was a reaction from him so important? She sighed quietly as she followed him through the busy terminal to the luggage carousel. Perhaps she wanted to ensure the attraction she felt for him wasn’t one-sided.

  After claiming her luggage, they negotiated their way through the terminal. Anca was surprised at the variety of people mingling. There were men and women dressed professionally walking side-by-side with others who looked as though they could have stepped from a book on the history of fashion.

  As soon as they stepped through the doors and into the sunlight, Anca blinked. The brightness of the afternoon light hurt her eyes, but it was a welcome respite from the dim interiors of the planes and lounges they had passed through in the past day-and-a-half. When her eyes adjusted, she glanced at Demi.

  He was blinking rapidly, and he had averted his face down toward the sidewalk. He slipped sunglasses from the pocket of his suit jacket. Once they were in place, he lifted his head again. “My eyes are sensitive.”

  “I see.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  Anca nodded.

  Demi glanced at his watch. “We’ll be at Gara Constanta soon enough.”

  “What’s Gara Constanta?”

  Before answering, Demi lifted his arm to catch the attention of a driver at the curb. “The train station.”

  She frowned. “How far away is Corsova?”

  “The border is about 160 kilometers away. It’s another 40 to the capitol, where we’ll get off the train. Beyond that, Castle Draganescu is another 30 kilometers.”

  Anca’s brow furrowed as she tried to remember metric conversions. “Um, that’s about 175 miles, isn’t it?”

  “More like 140,” he said as they walked toward the cab. The driver had exited his car and opened the trunk for them as they neared. Demi placed his small bag in first, then her two suitcases he had insisted on carrying.

  Anca put her carryon in with the rest of the bags and walked around to the back of the cab. She was conscious of Demi’s proximity as she opened the door and slipped inside. Within seconds, he sat next to her, with his thigh pressed against hers. Was it because the seat of the Mini was small, or did he enjoy touching her?

  She wet her lips. “Why didn’t we just fly into…what is the capitol of Corsova?”

  “Bulgainia,” he said, before sliding forward to give the driver instructions to take them to the train station. When he leaned back against the seat, he turned his face to her. “There is no airport in Corsova.”

  Her eyes widened. “How do you manage without an airport?”

  Demi shrugged. “Imports arrive by train in the capitol, or they are shipped to the harbor at Vachow. We have no need for an airport.”

  She frowned. “What about the convenience? Aren’t your citizens bothered by having to travel more than two hundred miles, er, kilometers if they want to take a trip?”

  Demi shrugged, but didn’t reply.

  Anca sighed and turned to look out the window. Grayish stone buildings dominated the architecture, but encroaching Western influence was making itself known. The streets weren’t the narrow cobblestones she might have imagined. There was little difference from the streets she was used to, except that Constanta wasn’t nearly as populated as New York.

  She turned back
to him. “Is Bulgainia as large?”

  Demi shook his head. “Constanta has about 350,000 citizens. Bulgainia has ten thousand or so.”

  “Is that your largest city?”

  He nodded. “The population is spread out among the villages and towns of our country. There are less than one million Corsovans.”

  Anca shook her head in wonder. She had imagined Corsova was a small country, but she couldn’t fathom it having so small a populace. She lived in a city with more than eight million. How would she adjust?

  Fortunately, she didn’t have to adjust, she reminded herself. Within a week, this visit would be a memory, and she would be home. She felt an unexpected surge of nostalgia for the crowded streets and smoggy air of New York as the taxi wove through the traffic.

  She blinked back silly tears as a car cut in front of their cab. The driver waited patiently. She wished he would scream obscenities at the offender, so it would seem more like home.

  “You’re quiet.”

  Anca turned her head to look at him. “I’m a little homesick. Constanta is a lot more like New York than I would have imagined, but it isn’t home.” He touched her hand, causing a current of awareness to shoot up her arm. Her lips parted, and she expelled a harsh breath.

  He didn’t offer platitudes. Instead, he said, “We’re approaching the train station. Soon, you will see your father’s home.”

  She tried to make her smile confident, but it felt shaky at the edges.

  The driver stopped in front of Gara Constanta, angling into a narrow parking space left by a departing cab. Demi slid out first, offering his hand to assist her.

  Anca took it as she scooted across the seat, though she didn’t need his help. A shiver worked its way up her spine as his warm hand closed around hers. A dart of disappointment flashed through her when she exited the car and he dropped her hand.