Dark Horse: The Kingmaker Saga #5

by Miller, London

  * * *

  Shellie Mantez adjusted the light jacket she wore as she entered the building on the corner of Madison and 18th. Not only was it her third week on the job, but she was also getting the unique impression that it wasn’t just her skills being judged when she walked into this place.

  While she had to make sure to follow the universal rules that came with working in a health facility—no perfumes, as an example—her appearance also had to be impeccable, and not just in the typical professional manner. Her very first day on the job, she had been told to have her hair professionally colored and styled—even as it was meant to be worn in a bun when she came into work—only nude nail polish, and only mint green scrubs by a particular brand were allowed to be worn by the nurses.

  It seemed like a bit much when she read the rules she needed to adhere by in the paperwork, but considering how much the company was willing to pay when she was fresh out of school, well ... she could deal with a few oddities here and there.

  On this particular day, though, Shellie hadn’t known why the director had sent out an email the night before alerting the staff that they needed to make sure they looked and were dressed appropriately when they came into the office the following day. She figured perhaps another donor was coming in to make the rounds and she wanted to ensure they received as much as they possibly could.

  But when she walked in, removing the thick scarf she’d worn on the ride over, she could already tell at first glance that this time wouldn’t be like the others.

  Mainly because as soon as she stepped through the doors, the director was waiting as well as the other nurses that were on Shellie’s shift.

  “Good, Shellie, you’re here. Hurry and put your things away and join us in the conference room, if you would.”

  Up until this point, Shellie would have bet every dollar she had that the director didn’t even know she existed let alone her name, so it took her a moment of just standing there to process that she had been given an order directly. Sneaking a glance at Rosalyn, one of the other nurses she considered a friend, who merely shrugged with big eyes, she quickly did as she was told.

  By the time Shellie made it to the conference room, Rosalyn was already seated at the lengthy table, but so was Dr. Instok, the lead gynecologist at this particular facility. He didn’t seem nearly as concerned about being called away as he sat at the table scrolling through his phone.

  “What’s going on?” Shellie asked Rosalyn as she sat next to her, making sure to keep her voice low.

  “Apparently there’s a new client coming in, but she wants to keep everything hush hush so they’re only allowing us to meet her since we’ll be over her care and delivery.”

  Shellie was starting to suspect that maybe they were about to encounter the president’s daughter, or the mistress of some powerful dictator. Every theory she came up with was wilder than the next and by the time the doors opened, she was hoping to see someone famous enough to knock her on her ass.

  But the woman and her mother who entered didn’t look like anyone she recognized on TV, nor did she think they were famous in any way.

  If anything, the woman, though young, looked relatively normal in a flattering dress that barely concealed her growing bump, and modest heels. Shellie didn’t mean to think it, but she was a little disappointed at the sight of them after all the fuss that went into her arrival.

  Shellie sat for a moment, arching her back to work out the kinks after being on her feet for the last ten hours. Though she would be right back tomorrow night for another long shift, at least she’d be able to sleep for the next seven hours uninterrupted once she got home.

  Far too excited at the prospect, she grabbed her coat and purse from her locker, heading out of the break room.

  She’d nearly made it to the lobby when hushed voices made her slow, her curiosity getting the best of her.

  Just around the corner, Dr. Instok had his arms folded across his chest, his expression troubled as he regarded the posh woman from earlier.

  Shellie was surprised to find her still there despite the hours since their initial meeting. Except now, she didn’t look nearly as carefree as she had earlier.

  “No matter what happens, there need to be complications.”

  Dr. Instok frowned. “I can’t exactly create problems with delivery, Miss Ashworth. That can—“

  “I don’t believe in repeating myself, Doctor. I’m paying you for a service, I expect you to complete it.”

  * * *

  Shellie cut off with another cough, this one longer than the last, managing time take her breath away.

  Elsie busied herself by pouring the woman more water, carefully bringing the straw to her lips.

  All her life, she thought she knew the sorts of evil that were in the world.

  The chaotic sort, like her father. The more neutral, like her mother. But she didn’t know anyone like Katherine Ashworth.

  It went beyond hating Uilleam for whatever reason—she seemed to hate her own daughter as well.

  It had to be hate, surely? Why else would she have done what she did?

  “I thought she must have had her reasons,” Shellie said once she caught her breath. “Maybe knew something about her daughter we didn’t.”

  “Or you didn’t care,” Elsie said bluntly, setting the cup aside once more. “Money can make monsters out of anyone.”

  Shellie flinched.

  The truth could hurt at times.

  “Whatever your reasons,” she continued, walking over to pick up her purse. “You made your choice. I only have one last question for you. The baby ... did it live?”

  Shellie’s eyes watered. “I don’t know, I swear. My role was to look after the mother. I didn’t see the baby again after we took her out.”

  And unfortunately, both the doctor and the other nurse weren’t around for her to ask.

  “Thank you for being honest with me, Shellie. Your answers have been invaluable.”

  From her purse, she pulled a syringe, the needle at the end seeming impossibly long.

  “What’s that?” Shellie asked, unable to hide her fear.

  Elsie didn’t respond, not until after she injected the contents into the woman’s IV. “You’ve kept this secret for nearly a decade. Whether or not I agree, it takes quite a bit of mental fortitude to do as much. As far as what this is,” she continued, disposing of the syringe. “It’s to help you rest.”

  Perhaps she understood her meaning, maybe she didn’t, but irregardless Shellie settles back, tears in her eyes.

  “I hope she finds peace,” Shellie whispered, her voice weaker as the morphine made its way through her system. “The girl. I hope she does.”

  “So do I,” Elsie said patting the woman’s hand. “I’ll make sure they both do.”

  Because while she hadn’t gotten all the answers she needed, there was one more string she had yet to pull ...

  17

  Harsh Realities

  Isla

  Isla stepped out of her low sitting Porsche, hitting the button on the key fob to lock the doors and made the horn chirp.

  Despite being on her feet all day in her favorite Louboutin’s, one would have never suspected that her feet were actually killing her and the only thing on her mind was getting upstairs to her penthouse apartment where she could finally get out of them and enjoy a nice glass of wine.

  “Evening, Miss,” the doorman greeted with his usual charming smile, offering her a nod as she swept past him into the downtown building.

  She might have only been in her new residence for a short while, but she was coming to enjoy the people that worked in the building far more than any of the guests that lived here.

  Which said a lot considering she didn’t like people.

  Isla was nearly to the bank of elevators when her mobile chimed with a new text, the sound making her heart skip a beat.

  It was ridiculous to think she was anxious about the incoming message. Or rather nervous because of who wa
s sending it.

  She couldn’t pinpoint when, exactly, her feelings toward her bodyguard had changed—though in the past few weeks, she had begun to wonder if they had always been there and she’d simply ignored them.

  Because what she was feeling now ...

  No, she was getting ahead of herself. This was nothing more than a crush born out of their close proximity and the sheer amount of time they spent together. Anyone who was around each other as often as they were were bound to catch feelings at some point.

  Simple human nature. Nothing more.

  Resolved to that train of thought, she pulled out her mobile to finally read the actual message.

  W/ MARGOT. SEE YOU IN TWENTY.

  That slick, oily feeling grew in her chest—a feeling she had been trying to ignore from the moment that name had first been casually mentioned.

  It seemed almost silly to be jealous of a woman she had never met, but there was no denying what she felt.

  Isla read the message a second time before locking the screen and stowing it away. It wasn’t as if that message warranted a reply.

  Boarding the elevator, trying to ignore her darkening mood, she smiled at the woman who walked on after her though she didn’t truly see her.

  She inserted her key next to the upper most PH, watching the letters illuminate. The woman waited until she drew back before hitting the key for her own floor.

  They rode in silence for several seconds, the quiet almost unnerving considering where Isla’s thoughts had gone. She almost wished the other woman would spark up a conversation if only so she would have something to prattle on about instead of thinking about whether or not Zoran was fucking that waitress he fancied.

  Anything was better than picturing that.

  But the longer she stood there, the more her mind started to form the image. She could almost imagine the way he would remove his clothes, starting with the T-shirt he wore, then down to his jeans.

  She could visualize the golden tawny hue of his skin and the muscles and scars that decorated his torso.

  He was strong. That much she had always known ever since the night he’d found her beaten on the floor and picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all.

  Zoran—

  Her thoughts were interrupted as the lift cane to a halt several floors beneath her own. Probably for the best.

  At least, it was enough of a distraction to wipe her guard from her mind for the time being.

  But as the doors slid open, revealing the posh corridor, she realized a bit belatedly that this floor wasn’t hers, nor was it the one her neighbor had pressed.

  Confusion made her blink until a woman stepped into view, her hands resting on top of a cane with a silver raven’s head at the top.

  She wore black cigarette pants, perfectly hemmed, a black silk top with a large bow tied at the neck, and a pair of heels even Isla appreciated.

  The woman, whoever she was, clearly had money and flaunted it in an understated way.

  But it was the woman’s voice that prompted Isla to meet her gaze.

  “Going down, I’m afraid.”

  Confusion filled her. Most lifts didn’t stop to go in the opposite direction. Yet, this one had.

  “Why are—“

  It was the woman’s answering smile that told her something was wrong, even before she heard the crackle of electricity.

  Isla has no time to defend herself because in the next moment, there was only pain as her body seized up, then nothing but blackness.

  * * *

  Isla woke to a dry mouth, a dull throbbing in the back of her head, and an anger so profound, she immediately balled her hands into fists.

  Someone was going to die this night. And the moment she got free, she was going to make sure their death was as slow and painful as she could manage.

  Water dripped from some unknown source, the sound particularly aggravating considering her current state.

  But as the fog began to clear and she realized that not only had she been taken, but she was bound to this surprisingly sturdy wooden chair, a flicker of panic flared.

  “Who is Zoran?”

  Isla whipped her head around as far as she could, trying to face the curious voice at her back—the same voice that belonged to the woman in the foyer.

  “He’s messaged you quite a bit since we arrived.”

  The woman came around carrying Isla’s mobile in one hand and dragging a chair around with her other. “He’s quite cross you haven’t answered his texts.”

  The woman was clearly touched in the head considering how absolutely nonchalant she was about holding Isla captive here. “Who in the hell are you?”

  Holding up a finger, the woman typed out a reply on the mobile, smiling to herself as she did so, before finally giving Isla her undivided attention.

  “I thought it time to introduce myself properly. I’m Elsie Runehart.”

  Isla called on every ounce of self control she possessed not to react to that name.

  Runehart.

  And now that she was taking a moment to actually look at the woman, she saw the similarities in their features.

  More, she saw it in the other woman’s demeanor.

  She couldn’t resist that curl of her lip if she’d tried. “There’s three of you?”

  “It’s often they say, one saves the best for last. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Ashworth. I’ve heard quite a bit about your family though I haven’t had the pleasure yet.”

  And if Isla could help it, she never would.

  She could guess why the woman had brought her to such a remote facility, especially given who they were both related to—the only question now was why.

  “You’ve no idea what you’re up against,” Isla stated calmly, glad her voice wasn’t betraying her.

  “No?” The woman asked, an alarmingly bright smile appearing on her face. “Enlighten me.”

  Usually, Isla was rather good at assessing one’s intentions. It was the reason she was good at what she did.

  But for the life of her, Elsie seemed to be a blank slate. If she wanted to know her intentions ... it wouldn’t be easy.

  “You brought me here,” Isla said carefully, managing to keep her annoyance in check. “How about you tell me why, then perhaps we can work out some sort of arrangement?”

  She could guess what this entailed—some threat that involved Karina (a threat that wouldn’t go over well, but the other woman didn’t need to know that) and would inevitably help free her brother—but the woman’s first mistake was believing Isla had anything to do with the proceedings.

  She’d purposely kept herself as far away from it as possible—not because she had been anticipating an event quite like this one—but because they had all assumed Uilleam would, in some way, attempt to get to one of them when he became desperate enough. Except, Isla had been expecting the other Runehart brother.

  He was the one she had been told to avoid at all costs because no one in their right mind wanted to cross paths with the man in a dark alley. While Uilleam was formidable because of the team of mercenaries he had kept at his disposal for years on end, the elder Runehart brother hadn’t needed a team of killers considering he was one.

  And now, apparently, there was a sister as well.

  There was something terribly wrong with the family Karina had found herself attached to ... but wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle black considering the lineage they both belonged to.

  “Tell me about your sister.”

  “No,” Isla said without preamble. On that, she wouldn’t bend.

  Elsie smiled patiently once more. “I understand the desire to protect one’s sibling. After all, I’m on the other side of this thing, but the information I’m looking for won’t harm her ... mostly.”

  “See, it’s the mostly that I have a problem with. I won’t ever allow one of you lot to hurt her again. I was too late the first time around, but I’m here now and I assure you, if you or that brother of y
ours does anything to even so much as make her shed a tear, I will spend the rest of my life making you regret it.”

  Either the woman didn’t think she was serious, or she thought Isla wasn’t capable of seeing the threat through because instead of looking afraid, or even angry at being threatened for that matter, Elsie sighed. “Must everything be reduced to threats?”

  “What do you want?”

  “The truth.”

  “About what exactly?”

  “About the day your sister lost the baby.”

  Of all the things she could have said, that was at the very bottom of Isla’s list. The fact that she would ever bring it up in such a manner only managed to make her blood boil. “Born of the same poisonous fruit, I see.”

  “We were,” Elsie readily agreed. “Our father was a bastard and our mother wasn’t much better. I don’t make excuses for who I am, but if you think insulting me is going to get you anywhere, I assure you, I would have to value your opinion to be insulted. The sooner you answer my questions, the sooner we can be done here.”

  “You want to know about the day my sister almost died? Fine. She was meeting with an associate when your brother sent one of his mercenaries to kill the man and anyone he was meeting with because he is nothing more than a child that doesn’t like when his toys interact with each other. She was shot and left for dead and had it not been for amazing surgeons and the decency of strangers to call an ambulance, my sister wouldn’t have just lost her baby that day, she would have also lost her life.”

  Isla didn’t realize she was breathing heavily until she trailed off, feeling as if her heart was about to break out of her ribcage. She tried not to think about that day because despite how well she had kept it together, she could still remember the panic she felt when Katherine had called.

  She thought she was immune to pain after everything she had suffered at the hands of her first client, but nothing compared to what she had felt learning that Karina had been hurt.