Vengeance (The Blood Trail Chronicles Book 1)

by Tara Brown

  It was exactly the way it was supposed to be. Exactly the way a girl—no a princess—expected it to be.

  Just as I was starting to feel like normal, a face I knew well flickered on the locket on my wrist. I sighed and pulled on my boots and daggers and left the room. I walked to the back door and opened it, whistling as I closed the door. While the man was certainly in the area if his face was flickering on my locket, murdering him there at the inn would be a mistake. I knew where he lived and would rather wait for him to come home, than to sully the inn’s reputation.

  I whistled again, and in the fog I watched for him, but he never came. My stomach started to twist. He always came.

  I whistled again but nothing. My insides started to tense as possibilities roamed about my feeble mind, creating panic.

  I climbed down the stairs and ran along the cold, damp street until I reached the city limits. I turned and headed up the dirt road, running hard until I reached the tree. I arrived winded and scared, but no hand grabbed for me.

  Panic was tearing me apart as I spun in a circle. “Artan! Mani! Katy!” I called.

  “They're gone.”

  I turned to find Maddox standing on the road. “Where is he?” I growled.

  He shrugged. “Not sure. They told me that if you came looking for them to tell you they were okay.”

  “Where is Artan?” My heart was racing, remembering the deal I had made with the witches to give away Artan’s blood and tears. My vengeance had a price, and terror whispered to me that Artan may have paid it.

  He looked confused. “With them. What's wrong?”

  “Where did they take him? They had no right!” I shook my head, fighting angry tears.

  He crossed his thick arms and shrugged. “All I know is they went to their coven.”

  “What's a coven? Where is it?” my panicked voice cracked.

  He looked angry with me or just angry in general. Was he scared for Artan as well?

  “Tell me!” I snapped, not caring if he was angry.

  “It’s not like they would hurt him, trust me.” He sighed. “A coven is the other witches in their circle. Their friends.”

  “Why did they take Artan? Why did they not ask my permission first?”

  “You don't own him. He is your friend. I assume they asked him his permission.” He snarled. “They said he owed them something. Why are you here?”

  Uneasiness drifted along through my throat and stomach. I chewed my lip and tried to make myself calm, to no avail. “I just need to get into the cottage. I need some things.” I hated that Artan owed them his tears and blood, and that I wasn’t there while he was giving them to the witches. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them. Well no, it was that. I didn’t trust them. They never told me the truth of anything. They fed me pieces, tiny little nibbles of information, but they never told me the whole story.

  Maddox sighed and put a hand out. “Take my hand and I'll take you inside.”

  I looked at his hand and hated that even after everything, I still wanted to touch him, even if the thought of it terrified me.

  He laughed bitterly. “So afraid of me that you can't even hold my hand?”

  I looked up and nodded, wanting to hurt him. It was petty and pathetic, but I did it anyway. He had rejected me so many times.

  A hurt look crossed his face like a cloud over a grassy field, darkening as it moved. “I'm not a monster, Millia.”

  “I don’t think you're a monster, Max.”

  “You don't need to lie to spare my feelings.” He reached and snatched my hand, dragging me to the tree. “It doesn’t matter, Millia. It's better this way.”

  The second we were inside the cottage he dropped my hand.

  “What’s better?” I asked, not sure of his meaning.

  “It’s easier for me if you are disgusted by what I am.” The words sort of fell from his lips, and I could tell he didn't want to discuss it further.

  I walked to my bed, pulled on my red cloak, and grabbed my swords.

  He was silent and I was uncomfortable.

  As I finished gathering my things he muttered, “If he hurts you, I'll kill him.”

  I looked back sharply. “What? Who?”

  “The boy from the inn.”

  I sighed and sat on the bed. “I don’t want to talk about this. He's the first person who hasn’t lied to me.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

  “Yeah. I am. You all have been lying to me for so long. You knew about Artan for how long?”

  He swallowed but remained stoic. “The start. I watched you the day you took him to the cave. I was always watching.”

  I nodded and tried to swallow the acid burning my chest. “So you lied to me every day since we met?”

  “As did you. The stray dogs? You never told me about Artan. That’s a pretty big secret to keep from the person you trusted more than anything or anyone.”

  I looked down. “I guess I did.” The acid was killing me. “Have we ever been honest with each other?” I lifted my gaze to meet his.

  His mouth trembled like it wanted to move, but he said nothing for a moment and then sighed one word, “No.”

  “You've never trusted me and I've never trusted you,” I whispered.

  He shook his head.

  The door burst open, shocking me but not him. His eyes didn't even move, but luckily the cool breeze took the tears from mine.

  “Oh, thank the stars, you are all right.” Mani rushed in carrying sacks and herbs. She dropped them on the table and walked to me, wrapping her arms around me. “Katy, she's back,” she called back.

  Katy came in carrying double what Mani had. She looked annoyed. “Oh, it's fine, Mani. I have everything else.” She plunked it on the table and smiled at me. “Hello, love.”

  “Where is Artan?” My words were still sharp.

  Katy pointed to where Artan poked his burnt-orange face in the doorway. I pushed Mani aside and leapt off the bed. I rushed at him and wrapped my arms around him. “You scared me.”

  He made his dragon noises and nuzzled into me. He snorted and grunted like he was telling me all about their adventure. I pulled his face back and inspected him. “You okay?”

  He nodded his huge head.

  I whispered, “Did they take your only tear?”

  He grunted and growled, and for the hundredth time at least I wished I spoke dragon.

  “You never take my dragon again, do you hear? You never take him without my permission.” I looked back at them all with daggers for eyes.

  Mani rolled hers. “He isn’t yours to choose for. He’s a free creature. He makes his own choices.”

  “He is young and too kind and too trusting. You take advantage where innocence is concerned.” I regretted it the moment I said it, but they were all painful complications in my life. I just wished somehow Artan, Grayson, and I could have a normal life at the inn. Everything at the inn was fun and full of things I actually wanted. The cottage was full of things I either didn’t want or couldn’t have. Ever. Apart from Artan, he would always be mine, my family.

  The word family brought ideas with it. I kissed Artan’s cheek and turned and grabbed my things. “I want to go back to see Edward tomorrow.”

  Mani looked at me and shook her head, but Maddox gritted his teeth as he nodded. “I'll take you. Meet me here.”

  “Fine.” I shrugged and walked back to Artan and climbed on his back, not speaking to the witches again.

  Maddox watched every move I made. “No fighting tonight, Princess.”

  “You followed me?”

  He nodded once. “I told you, it's my job. I am always watching you.”

  My gut ached. “You saw everything?”

  His left eye twitched and I tensed, gripping to the saddle for dear life. Artan felt the shift in me and jumped into the air.

  I pushed everything away and focused on the face that appeared on my locket the last time I was in the far side of the city.

&nb
sp; “Take me to the far side of the city, Artan. Leave me in the west woods.” He changed his course as I dragged on my cloak and mask, gripping to him with my legs. He soared, and for a moment I wished we could just stay up there in the clouds.

  My cloak whipped behind me as my hair flapped against it. I closed my eyes and let the wind clean me off.

  Artan landed with a thud, dropping me into the woods. He looked like he was just about to shoot back up into the air when a crack in the forest behind us made us both turn.

  He blew a blast of fire at a creature that I had barely made out as a large buck. Artan stomped over to where it burned next to a tree that had also caught fire.

  “Subtle.” I shook my head.

  He looked back at me with a snarl before he turned back and bit into the dead deer. He made his whiny noise and looked at me with a huge hindquarter of charred meat in his mouth. I lifted a hand. “No, thanks,” He always offered, and it always made me sick.

  I unbuckled my daggers and put on my swords, resting my daggers on the forest floor and pointing to them. “When you leave, bring these please.” I turned and ran through the woods, away from the smell of burnt animal and forest.

  I knew the person I was going to kill. I'd seen him many times. Everyone knew his name. I just never knew who he was to my parents. He owned the brothels. That's all I knew. He delivered girls to inns and pubs. He rented women out by the hour—whores. I never understood why someone would want a career such as that.

  As I neared the estate his face flickered on the locket. He was already back home from the inn, no doubt dropping girls off when his face flashed on my locket the first time.

  The man didn’t live in the city. He lived on the outskirts in a large estate home. I had been near the walls of his house before, but had never seen his face on my locket.

  I snuck up to the back of the wall that surrounded his property. I jumped, lifting myself up into a crouching position on the wall. I slinked along, jumping down into a bush when I had neared an area I knew I could sneak around in. The sun was starting to set so if I was meeting Grayson I didn’t have much time left. I ran along the wall until I heard a sound.

  I froze. I knew the sound. I'd come upon Roland with a maid once. It was the most revolting thing I'd ever seen. The noises coming from the outbuilding were the same.

  A man grunted loudly, reminding me of another sound. I couldn't stop myself from peering in the window only to find the man with the scar on his eye. He still wore welts and bruises on his face, from me. His eyes were scrunched up and almost closed as he lay with a woman in some hay.

  I wrinkled my nose and walked away, disturbed by the sight. I made a mental note to attempt drinking that image from my mind later. There really were so many I needed gone.

  I paused, listening but was also distracted by a moment of wondering if it was something I could ask Mani and Katy to do. Could it be possible to remove memories?

  Chuckling broke my random thoughts. I peered around a corner, noting the several men standing outside of the large white manor home. They laughed and joked next to a carriage. My spine chilled as Herrick climbed into the carriage with a pleased look on his face. He dragged a girl inside with him and slammed the door to the carriage before the footman could. The man whose face was on my locket waved a hand as they rode off. “Goodnight!”

  I nearly gagged, imagining what the poor young girl was about to endure. Herrick’s breath was still fresh on my face, approximately a year later.

  I waited against the building until the group of men made their way back into the house, then I leapt behind the last building before the house. The yard was still fairly lit from the fading sun and was vast enough that I didn't know how to make it to the house without being seen.

  I didn’t know what I was going to find inside as I'd never seen the inside of a brothel before. Obviously royals did their brothel tours under the strictest of secrecy. And, generally, it was only the males who went. Imagining my mother in a brothel would have been comical, had she not been a prisoner of my evil brother at that very moment.

  I scanned the area, noting no one moved in the courtyard. I waited one more moment before I burst into a run toward the back of the house and climbed up onto the back porch, jumping quickly onto a railing.

  I pulled myself up onto the roof and ran around to a large window, peering in the windowpane and watching for movement. Thankfully, no one was there so I crept along the roof to the next window, grinning at seeing it was open. I slipped inside the room, surprised by the cozy space. It was far cleaner than I had anticipated and was decorated with silk blankets and drapes that gave the room a rich feeling. The lacy dress crumpled on the floor was a reminder that I was in an actual brothel.

  I pulled my swords silently and slinked up to the door, listening before glancing out into the hallway. Candles were lit along it but no one stirred.

  “Del, would you like a drink, darling?” a woman purred from another part of the house.

  “No, just get in here.”

  Del—Mr. D? Was that why he was called Mr. D?

  I walked to where his voice came from, peering carefully into the room. It wasn’t him so I shot past that doorway in an attempt to not see whatever else was going on in the room.

  I ducked into another empty room. I hurried to the window, opening it just in case I needed it as an escape route. Then I hid in the doorway and waited for the voices again so I could tell where everyone was. The woman who had been talking entered the room I had just run past, with Del. She giggled and I grimaced. I wanted desperately to plug my ears as he murmured something, but she closed the door and the sound was muted.

  I sighed, still feeling the disgusted look on my face and fearing I might never be rid of it.

  “I want the ledgers for last week in the office with some of that brew Barney dropped off,” a deep voice spoke softly, followed by footsteps.

  “Yes, sir,” a lady answered.

  The voices were down the stairs so I looked out into the hallway and watched as a girl ran up to a room. I hid behind the door until she passed me, and then I ran out into the hallway.

  I climbed over the railing and dropped to the floor below like a cat and slipped into a shadow. I stayed there as footsteps came down the stairs and the same girl walked past me and through the dark double doors at the end of the hall. She was in the room for a moment and then came scurrying out again.

  When she was past me, I crept down the hallway and opened the dark door.

  “I said not now,” the man muttered. I closed the door and locked it.

  The sound of the lock lifted his gaze from his ledgers. His face fell when he saw me.

  “Good evening,” I spoke softly.

  “By the gods, are you her?” He looked confused. “Are you here to kill me?”

  I shook my head. “Not sure yet. I'm here to see why you participated in the murder of my father and the betrayal of my family.” I took a step toward him. His hands moved slowly under his desk. I knew he was more than likely grabbing a weapon.

  “Who is your father, my love?” he asked, but I knew he had that answer already.

  “King Henry Morgentstein was my father.”

  “You and I have no business then. I had nothing to do with it, none at all.” He looked innocent; there was no denying that. I glanced at the face on the locket. It was his.

  I shook my head. “This locket tells me who my next target is, and your face is on it. So, why don’t we just start at the beginning? Are you friends with Herrick's father?”

  He nodded. “Of course. Everyone is his friend.” He said friend awkwardly, like it wasn't a sincere sentence. “He is a man used to getting what he wants, and I am in the business of giving people what they want.”

  I suspected he was planning something. I could see something mischievous on his face. He was too easygoing, not what I expected. I wondered if he wanted me to talk to him—wanted the time it would take to explain his part.

 
It was a diversion.

  I pulled my swords abruptly and pointed them at him.

  His lip twitched. “I've heard you have incomparable skills as a fighter.”

  I took a step closer, but he pulled a knife and threw it. I didn't even have to duck as it stuck into the wall behind me, completely missing me.

  A noise from behind me made me turn to see two men leap out of a revolving bookcase that was part of the wall. They grabbed my arms as I spun and attempted to throw them forward, but they were stronger than I was. I gripped my swords as they each held my arms. Mr. D left his desk and walked to me, running a hand along my clenched jaw.

  I shuddered from his touch.

  “Those men have been hiding in there, taking shifts for days. I knew you would come for me eventually.” He made a strange face and then unexpectedly leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. I drove my knee into his crotch as he bit my lip.

  Blood rushed into my mouth as he laughed, breathlessly and holding his groin. He waved a finger at me. “You are going to be fun, just as Herrick told me you would be. You see, I made an arrangement with him. I would help him kill your parents, but I would get the one thing I wanted.” He lifted a lock of my hair and sniffed it.

  “What did you want?” I whispered. I had to know.

  His eyes flashed on me. “Your mother.”

  My swords twitched in my hands. I wanted to gut him.

  “She is a magnificent woman—one who has always known her place.” His dropped my hair and leaned back, his hand striking me hard. I whistled pathetically as more blood poured into my mouth.

  “Your mother is a lover, not a fighter.” His eyes lowered to my swords. “She won’t be needing those.”

  The men holding me chuckled as they reached to take my swords just as glass shattered everywhere, startling us all.

  Artan shoved his massive head through the broken glass and screamed a sound I had never heard him make. He roared and shot flames into the room with eyes so angry I wasn't certain they would ever be soft and sweet again.

  The men holding me screamed, loosening their grip long enough that I managed to pull free and drive a sword into one man as Artan charred the other and swallowed him whole.