Wolfsbane

by Nathalie Gray

  Fredrick gasped in pleasure and shock. Licking his lips, he continued pounding himself into her welcoming flesh while he mentally rendered it with claws and fangs.

  A cry tore up his throat. Feral. Inhuman. It curdled his blood, made his seed explode from him. Another cry soon followed his—Lothar pulled out of Fredrick, leaving behind only hurt and shame.

  Then like a blanket of ash falling over the world, the light went out. And Fredrick was falling into Hell.

  Chapter Two

  Scarlet wouldn’t scream. Knowing it infuriated her “master”, she relished in this one small victory. They could have her body but they sure wouldn’t get her soul. Nor the coins safely tucked away in the hollow heels of her wooden shoes. When he pulled out of her, she had to stifle a small snort of triumph. It wouldn’t do to anger him further.

  With a stinging slap on the backside, Werner pushed her hard against the brick wall. His breath smelled of onions and ale when he tugged on her hair, leaned his chin over her shoulder. “I’ll go get somethin’ to drink. Then you and me’ll meet with the patron I talked to you about. Meanwhile, poppet, you stay right here.”

  She didn’t watch him leave, but heard the jiggle of belt buckle and scabbard as he pulled himself back in. She didn’t even know what the new work entailed, but would’ve preferred keeping her old one. Stealing may be a sin, but one she knew and had learned to accept. And one she was good at.

  “Don’t try to escape, Scarlet, I’d only find you again—and this time, I might not be so nice,” he called over his broad shoulder.

  She cursed him under her breath, hating every single hair on him. If he hadn’t been one of the bailiff’s men—therefore powerful and well-connected—she would’ve made him pay. Somehow, he always managed to find her, no matter what good hiding spot she thought she’d found. Probably, he had moles working for him who gave her away in a second, her being a mere thief. She had to steal just to survive. Couldn’t he understand that! And now she would have to…Heaven knew what.

  Scarlet shivered at the horrid visions. A wealthy patron coming to take her away. She could well imagine why. Be a slave in some dungeon, at the mercy of every base thing they’d want her to do, to be.

  Well, she wouldn’t take it idly. After a short moment, Scarlet rearranged her dress the best she could and snuck out of the alley behind the guardhouse. If she were quick about it, she’d be across town before he realized she’d gone. She may be a thief, but she would be no one’s whore.

  Vulgar male laughter wafted in through the maladjusted door and chased her down the slimy cobbled lane flanked on either side by decrepit half-timbered houses. What she wouldn’t do to see the countryside. Taste the sweet air of grass and sea. Scarlet looked up at the moon and sighed. Enough dreaming. She was here and now and getting away from Werner was the only thing she should have in mind.

  As she rounded the corner of the narrow alley, Amsterdam’s urban canal greeted her with its offensive smells and glittering reflections. She hadn’t gone ten steps when a male voice she knew too well stopped her. Fighting against cold fear clamming her palms, Scarlet half turned, half crouched.

  Werner was charging down the alley, slopping ale and cursing. Without thinking, Scarlet ran.

  She could outrun the thickly muscled man easily enough, but his hollering would soon bring attention. She’d be caught again. Horrible images danced in her mind’s eye. Maybe being taken away by this rich patron wouldn’t be so bad after all. Compared to what Werner would surely do to her.

  Sweet Mary, help me!

  Lungs burning, she dashed down the mud-slippery alley and was about to cross the wider street to the safety of the canal when a loud sound thundered around her. A team of black horses exploded to her left, gleaming and frothing at the mouth, and reeled to a jittery, chaotic stop. The carriage’s driver yelled something at her, but Scarlet couldn’t hear anything over Werner’s voice as he closed a ham-sized hand over her neck. This time she yelped.

  “You little viper!” he hollered, giving her a rough shake. “I’ll teach you.”

  With hot breath from the restless horses blowing across her face, Scarlet fought against the much larger man as he dragged her back by the scruff of the neck toward the side of the road. Scratching and biting and kicking as much as she could, Scarlet only managed to make Werner laugh.

  “You’ve some spirit about you, girl,” he panted, gathering both her hands in one of his and pulling her to him. “But you can’t always get away. Sometimes, you lose. I warned you, Scarlet, I did. Now look what you’re making me do.” He unbuckled his belt.

  “No,” she snarled, kicking him in the shin.

  “What is going on?” a rich female voice demanded loudly.

  Behind Werner, Scarlet spotted a woman coming out of the black carriage. The air about her as she stepped down and put gloved fists on narrow hips! Scarlet would have stared in awe had she not been fighting for her life.

  “My lady,” Werner said, dragging Scarlet with him as he whirled around and bowed. “I thought you were at the—”

  “Silence,” snarled the woman, stepping down. She was as tall as Werner, slender, with long black hair loose about her athletic shoulders. A cane with a silver pommel glistened in her gloved hand. Scarlet couldn’t take her gaze off her.

  “My pardon…I didn’t mean to offend.” Werner stopped, stared daggers at Scarlet then loosened his grip on her hands.

  She snapped them out and took a step away from him.

  The tall woman advanced, her midnight blue cape fretting around her ankles. “Is this the girl you told me about?”

  So this was the wealthy patron come to take her away? Scarlet had expected a fat, bald man dressed in gaudy clothes.

  “She is, mistress,” Werner replied, pawing behind him for Scarlet.

  Turning, the tall woman set her icy blue gaze on Scarlet. “I need someone who has stamina and is not afraid of darkness. Can you handle that, young woman?”

  “I’ll be no one’s whore,” Scarlet snapped back, not caring about her tone.

  Werner meant to backhand her but she snuck under his swipe.

  “That will be enough,” the woman said. A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Then you shall be no one’s whore. What is your name?”

  “Scarlet.”

  “Scarlet,” the woman repeated, eyeing her from head to toe then back up again. “A fitting name. As I said, you shall not be asked to bed anyone—unless you wish to, which is none of my concerns. Your duties will involve cleaning and taking care of a very ill man.”

  Scarlet didn’t even need to look at Werner to see her death in his eyes. There’d be neither safety nor future in Amsterdam for her. Might as well take a chance and follow this strange and magnificent woman.

  “Well?” the woman asked, patience clearly not one of her virtues.

  Without a look at Werner, Scarlet nodded. Before she could follow the woman back to the coach, Werner grabbed her wrist and squeezed so hard Scarlet moaned. “I’ll find you again when they’re done with you.”

  A terrifying glare from the woman had Werner retreating by a step.

  Scarlet rubbed at her bruised wrist as she followed the tall woman inside the coach. The door closed behind them. With a lurch, the gleaming vehicle rode on.

  So this was how it felt to leave one’s life behind. Scarlet shivered. There would be no turning back. A wince of disgust almost cracked the impassive mask she’d spent years perfecting under Werner and his friends’ base attentions. Her sex felt sore, and she’d love nothing better than to wash his seed off her, but could do nothing about it for now except grit her teeth and wait. She was used to that.

  A small glass lamp lit the interior of the cabin, which was the closest thing Scarlet had ever seen to a palace. Brocade seat covers, velvet partition walls, silk drapes embroidered with a blazon she couldn’t recognize. Even the floor looked opulent. And her with a tattered cotton dress and muddy wooden shoes!

  “Well, klein
er Apfel, this man seems to want a bite of you.”

  No one had ever called her that before. She didn’t like the implications. Scarlet Heerlen was no one’s “little apple”. But the woman had been very kind to help her and Scarlet held her tongue. For now. “Danke,” she replied in what little German she knew.

  “You are most welcome,” the woman said in nearly accentless Dutch, a small grin lifting the corner of her exquisite, berry-colored mouth. She had eyes like blue diamonds. “Do not ever let men try to control you, Scarlet.”

  Scarlet agreed with a nod. It’d been difficult so far with no one to help, no one to fall back on. The streets of Amsterdam weren’t friendly to lone women.

  “You may call me Lady Katrina.” She smiled.

  “Thank you very much, Lady Katrina.”

  “Do you have family?”

  “No…no, Lady Katrina.” She’d have to make the effort of using the woman’s title.

  “You have been alone all your life?”

  A warning bell tolled in Scarlet’s mind. Years on the streets, mostly by herself, had honed her senses to daggers. Giving details about one’s life was never a safe thing to do.

  After a long silence, Lady Katrina shook her head. “Do not worry. Nothing bad happens to those I value.”

  Unsure how to respond Scarlet tilted her head. Through the partly drawn curtains, the pale moon hid her face behind a thick cover of clouds, but Scarlet knew it was there, had always felt a special kinship to her oftentimes only source of nightly light. A stoical, silent friend. One that never deserted her, no matter what Scarlet had to do to survive, no matter how low she’d sunk to earn a few coins. “I don’t want to be trouble.”

  “You are not trouble, kleiner Apfel. And I will pay you well. Unless you have something else…”

  Lady Katrina had to know there was nothing else, but she must have been too well-bred to mention it, for which Scarlet was grateful. “How long will I work for you?”

  As if the point-blank tone were new to her, the woman arched a dark eyebrow then nodded, maybe deciding she rather liked it. “Well, it all depends on his health, of course. But he is very ill.”

  Honest work for the first time in her life. Though Scarlet wanted to kiss the woman’s feet, she’d never let her gratitude show. With as much impassiveness as she could muster, she nodded. “Do you live very far, Lady Katrina?”

  A nod revealed the most beautiful earrings Scarlet had ever seen. Huge, tear-shaped rubies. “Quite. About a week’s journey. Do you know Germany very well?” she asked, knowing full well Scarlet had not a clue, but again, showing too much courtesy to imply otherwise. Scarlet decided she liked Lady Katrina. For treating her as an equal, as a person.

  “Not much. But I’ve always wanted to travel, see the countryside.” Scarlet regretted right away sharing with a stranger such a personal thought and vowed to guard her soul better.

  “You will be well served there, my dear, for the…my castle sits on an immense land, most of it forests and lakes.”

  Scarlet hadn’t missed the hesitation when the woman said “my” castle. As though she weren’t sure. But the lure of the countryside, its clean air and water, pushed away the nagging little voice in her head that had always served her so well. She’d become too distrustful in her twenty-odd years. Maybe it was time to finally let someone else lead for a while. At least until Scarlet would get to know her surroundings and what she could get from them. Then she’d leave and be on her own again but, this time, with some honest coins in her shoe and the countryside under her feet.

  * * * * *

  The journey to the lady’s castle proved quite pleasant. The weather held nice for the entire eight days, the driver turned out to be a good imitator of people and accents, and Lady Katrina never tired of telling stories of travels and faraway lands. When they pulled onto the road leading to the castle, Scarlet couldn’t keep the awe from slacking her jaw, rounding her eyes. Thick, strong oak trees guarded either side of the road as two neat rows of stoical sentinels. And the castle itself… Never had she seen such opulence, such serene strength.

  Two massive towers, clearly older and rougher than the rest of the elegant affair, dwarfed the surrounding buildings. A moat, its water as green as pure jade, glittered at its base. Amid a thunderous beat of hooves, the coach rumbled onto the stone bridge leading to the raised portcullis, one that must have stood centuries past.

  Scarlet sat beside the driver who regaled her of stories about barbarian invaders breaking their teeth upon the massive structure and of the galas and balls of years past.

  Looking up at one of the two round towers, Scarlet thought she spotted a face at the only window—more like a slit—she could see. But when she blinked and looked again, the face was gone.

  “Tell me, Frank, who lives in the tower there?” she asked, pointing up to her right.

  A shadow crossed the weathered face. “The mistress may tell you. ‘Tis not for me to say.”

  With a shrug, Scarlet let her gaze follow every corner of the castle, from moss-green gargoyles to gleaming oaken doors. This was a well-maintained gem of a home. Years of love and care had tended to the grounds she could spot through the interior gates. A rose garden the likes of which she’d never seen took an entire side of the walled garden beyond the enclosure. If she had any time to herself, she’d visit there first.

  The coach lurched to a stop, horses fidgety and tired after such a long voyage. Scarlet nimbly jumped off the driver’s seat, to Frank’s pretend scowl, and landed silently on the cobbles. Lady Katrina did the same, opening the door herself and stepping down unaided. This was a woman who led her own life. Scarlet offered the tall woman a guarded nod.

  Drawing near, Lady Katrina rested a hand over Scarlet’s shoulder. “I will let Ute take care of you while I get a few things ready. When you are freshened, come see me in the library. We will discuss your employment then.”

  A gnarled old woman who must have been the Ute in question marched out of a door and took a straight line for Scarlet. Before she could say a word, the old woman brusquely jerked her thumb in the direction of a door and turned heel.

  “Don’t mind the old hen, she’s as sweet as honey when you get to know her.” Frank winked.

  Scarlet had her doubts but followed the old woman across the courtyard. The whole time she felt observed, as though someone had eyes fixed on her alone. Without knowing why, she looked up to the east tower again but saw no one at the tiny window on this side. To hide her nervousness, she tossed an annoying red curl from her forehead and followed Ute into the kitchen.

  Noises and smells greeted her, as did too many people to count or whom to remember the names. They seemed a friendly enough bunch save for Ute who grumbled and pushed the maids around.

  “What’s your name?” she asked suddenly, whirling on her heel and coming right up under Scarlet’s nose.

  “Scarlet.” The short, simple reply seemed to please Ute for she nodded, a shadow of a grin appearing on her wrinkled face.

  “Has the mistress told you what your work will be?”

  Scarlet nodded. “Clean mostly and take care of an ill man. Her words.”

  Ute nodded, seemingly quite happy with the news. “We’re so lucky Lady Katrina is taking such good care of her cousin. Came all the way here from the city too, she did. Good thing she was here on visit when it happened, when the master fell ill. Took charge of everything. She moved here within days to help care for him. Good woman, Lady Katrina.”

  Scarlet wasn’t sure which city Ute meant but thought better than to ask.

  “If you’re going to take care of the master, then come here and get cleaned up, you smell like city pigs.”

  City pigs. Charming.

  After washing the smell of “city pigs” from her with perfumed soap—a first in her life—Scarlet donned the clothes Ute had thrown at her over the swinging door of the lavatories. Gray dress, gray apron and gray underthings. Her copper hair must have stood out as though her head
were on fire. Grinding her teeth, Scarlet came out of the lavatories to the approving nod of Ute and followed the old woman through the kitchen.

  “Get a bite to eat on the run. You’re already late.”

  In a whirlwind of unanswered questions, Scarlet wolfed down her food—which she was used to doing…when she had any. The library was in front of her before she knew she’d walked far enough to reach it. As much as she prided herself on never having become lost in a large city, this castle, with its part medieval portions meshed with more recent ones, proved to be a maze of corridors and stairs leading to labyrinthine halls and rooms.

  Scarlet let out a gasp of shock when she entered the library.

  Lady Katrina sat on a red velvet settee, her knees quite far apart from each other, and a broad-backed man with a ponytail knelt in between, enthusiastically lapping at her sex. Boots laced up to her knees gleamed like ink on either side of the man’s head.

  “Scarlet, my dear, how quick you are,” Lady Katrina said as she toyed with the man’s ponytail with a lacquered fingernail.

  Emerging from between the lady’s thighs, his lips glistening, the man in question stood. He must have enjoyed his task very much for his pleasure showed abundantly enough in his trousers.

  “Where are my manners? Please meet my trusted friend and physician, Master Lothar,” the lady said, stretching catlike.

  Scarlet had to admit this could be one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. Tall and muscled with large, square hands. He bowed, never letting his gaze break contact. “My pleasure.”

  Scarlet only nodded, her mind reeling with the concept that a lady of such quality would do these…things. It wasn’t the idea per se, more the setting, with books, refinement and schooling surrounding them while they partook in carnal pleasure. A shiver snaked up her spine. She’d always associated carnal knowledge with pain, or at least discomfort and misery, with a lack of choice.