Fire. Dammit. It will hurt, but won’t kill me. Why couldn’t they just go straight to the guillotine and get it over with?
The cardinal looked over his shoulder at the captain. “Beat him until he signs the confession of heresy and witchcraft. Then schedule the burning.”
The rancid smile that coursed over the captain’s face made Michel’s stomach turn. Michel signed it mere hours later, only to take away the satisfied look the man had when beating him. Too bad the plan backfired. The captain didn’t stop beating him until many hours later.
Fortunately for Michel, Gabriel and Thierry had found him that night and brought him to safety. He’d been saved from burning and whatever other tortures lay before him.
It was a distant past and he’d forced it out of his mind long, long ago. He was stronger than this. Paloma was an adversary he’d longed to best. Now he had his chance for vengeance. Knuckles tightening into fists, he longed to see his hands around her throat, stealing the very air from her lungs before he ripped her head from her shoulders.
“Did you see them this time?” Kadence asked quietly, pulling him from his reverie.
She was seated in the reverse direction, on the seat across from he and Gabriel. She was withdrawn, her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around her shins. The wide expanse of black leather of the bench seemed to swallow her whole.
Michel noted that Kadence was ashen, her eyes large, as if she’d seen a ghost. “Did I see…who?”
“The demons? Or whatever they are.” Her brow wrinkled and she looked out the window. “Never mind, I’m going crazy. I saw your reaction and assumed—”
“You saw the evil beings again? Like the child?”
“I must be hallucinating from all the craziness going on. A good night’s rest and I’ll be fine.” Her bottom lip trembled slightly. She was trying so hard to hold back the floodgates. Considering everything she’d been through in the past few days, it was amazing that she hadn’t lost it prior to this.
Tears in a female were something to be avoided. At all costs. Especially after seeing Paloma and reliving that hell.
Yet for the first time in his very long life, he wanted to be there, to console. But he couldn’t bring himself to touch her. To hold her. The memories of his greatest heartbreak lingered too close.
Kadence was a strong one. The glistening soon disappeared and she gathered herself. Chin rising, she looked him in the eyes. The determination he saw there made his body stiffen in need. Need he refused to slake.
“No, Kadence, I want to know what you saw.” He leaned forward, taking her hands. An electric current raced through him. It was the first time he’d touched her since they’d nearly made love in his penthouse. She jerked at the touch, apparently just as moved by the contact. She eyed her hands, quietly appraising them before finally looking up and telling him what she saw.
“At first, it was a woman with long curling black hair and the two men beside her. But then, like the little boy, they all began to morph. Their features became exaggerated, twisting into evil expressions. Then their skin grew red.”
Michel wasn’t surprised at what she’d seen. Paloma was pure evil. She’d proven that years before.
“Now that they know we’re here, we won’t be safe, will we?” Tears glistened in her lavender depths, but she held them tight and didn’t release them.
Michel looked into her eyes, wanting to tell her that their journey was over, but she was right. They had precious little time to find Thierry and to see what he knew of her before they would be running again. The need to pull her into his lap, to kiss the tears away was heavy. But the doubt lingered. He fisted his fingers and ignored his soul’s demand.
“No, it isn’t safe here. But we have other places to run.”
“So all that…the flying, the trains, the wending our way through Europe…it didn’t keep us safe from them finding us. Will they keep following us? Are we going to run forever?”
“Eventually, we will need to stand and fight. But first we go to Thierry.”
“Thierry? Is he the friend we’ve come to see?”
“Yes. He’s the closest thing we have to a historian in the order. He holds our records and maintains them. If anyone knows what you may be, it will be him.”
“And if he doesn’t know? Will you keep pushing me away?”
Michel looked into her eyes, surprised that she’d sensed him holding back. “I have to know.”
She reached forward slowly, her hand resting on his chest. “You’re telling me you don’t already?”
He looked down at her hand and jerked back some, unable to continue looking at the raw intensity in her eyes. No words came to his mind. Crippled by his inability to speak, he sat back. Her shuddered sigh rolled over him and made his gut twist in guilt.
Trust wasn’t something he handed over easily.
The only people he’d ever completely trusted were his Templar brethren…and Paloma. The Order had never let him down. Paloma had destroyed him. Outside the very tight circle of the Brotherhood, traitors, conspirators, and enemies surrounded him at all times. Seven hundred years was a long time to breed contempt for those outside his neat little existence.
And seeing Paloma again, he was reminded of what a weakness a woman could be to a man such as him. Happily ever after was not a dream he ever dared to consider.
“Why did you bother bringing me if you didn’t trust me? Why not turn me over to those—things?”
“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” As soon as the words left his mouth he felt his foot slam into it. Regret roiled through him and he did everything in his power for her not to see how much the words had hurt him to say. The look of abject rage that coated Kadence’s face was something he hoped to never see from her again. “That came out wrong…I didn’t mean—”
“I know exactly what you meant. So, I’m your prisoner, not your traveling companion.”
“No.”
“Then what am I?”
“We are protecting you from potential threat, and in the meantime, trying to determine what it is you are.”
“But I could be the threat? Words, words, words. You can string a pile of bullshit together so floridly. Add in the French accent and you could almost get me to believe your lies.” Her eyes lightened, almost to the color of steel. “I’m done here. If I’m truly not your prisoner, I don’t want your protection, as you call it. It’s time I went home and away from your brand of crazy.”
“You’ll go nowhere. Not until we know what you are.” Michel felt panic for the second time that day. Too bad it sounded more like anger as it screamed from his mouth.
“And then what? Will you cut me down and chop off my head if this Thierry tells you I may be evil?” Her voice rose to be even louder than his bellow had been.
Michel was floored by her question, knowing full well he couldn’t do that to her. He had no answer to give, only stood staring at her wild-eyed. But his silence seemed enough of a response for her.
“You would…wouldn’t you?” A slender hand came to her throat, her voice becoming hoarse. “You’re planning to kill me, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know what will happen next. I’m solely focused on finding out what you are. I haven’t considered what comes next.”
“Liar.” Tears began to form on her lashes again. “All this time, I’ve been worried about winning your trust, when I should have been afraid of you.”
They both whipped their heads to the side as Gabriel roared. “Stop this!”
Looking at Kadence, he spat, “You’re in danger, but not from us. I don’t believe you’re evil and Michel would admit the same thing if he had any sense. Yes, there are doubts, but we go to Thierry to allay them. You aren’t going anywhere.”
Turning to Michel, “Leave her be. She has done nothing so far to deserve coarse words and your anger. Don’t take your hatred of the gypsy out on her. We’ve all had a trying few days, no?”
Michel relaxed some, the
set to his shoulders softening as much as he could allow. Guilt still swamped him, but the words were said. He couldn’t un-say them. “Oui.”
“Then leave all this cackling to the hens and wait for what Thierry has to say before you have more words to regret.”
Michel knew that Gabriel was right. The arguing wasn’t helping the situation. Glancing at Kadence, he felt another small spike of guilt. She looked to him, injury in her lavender eyes. Eyes that saw through to the soul of him, shook him at his very foundation.
They were both right. His gut told him that he could trust her. But his head, the one that had seen deceit in all its forms for seven hundred years, could not open to her so easily.
Chapter Eleven
Kadence looked over the villa as she rose from the limo, her hand in Gabriel’s. Small-town Kadence hadn’t grown up around wealth. She’d watched as the limo slowly moved through a winding road to go higher over the city, the glittering star of the Riviera on display. Several sets of gates had been gone through, with armed security sentries at each access point allowing them entry. Going from a penthouse in New York City to a picturesque, high-security villa overlooking the Mediterranean in Monte Carlo was breathtaking to say the least. She felt out of place.
Sliding her hands down her three-day-old dress, trying to flatten the impossible wrinkles, she then ran a hand through her unruly curls. On a good day, she’d stick out and look like a sore thumb. Today, she was at her worst. Her eyes roamed over Michel and Gabriel. How did they look so fresh and gorgeous after their hellish trip and she look like a bedraggled mess? It was so unfair.
Why worry about my dress and my hair? It won’t matter once I’m decapitated. The niggling doubt that her head would be removed from her neck hadn’t completely gone. She trusted Gabriel, and truly, she did Michel as well. They were not going to chop off her head. And for good reason. She refused to be buried in a dirty dress and knock-off Louboutins.
A wide door opened in the front of the home and a man stepped out into the bright sun. His eyes furrowed for a moment before accustoming to the light. As he stepped closer, another man followed him out. They were both incredibly handsome, looking as if they would be at home on the pages of a magazine. They definitely fit the Monte Carlo atmosphere she’d imagined from movies. Tall, as tall as the men with her, they were also as well-built, their lean muscular bodies very apparent under the expensive looking jeans and t-shirts they wore.
The first from the door was slightly shorter and more heavily muscled, with a deeper tan and dark brown hair. He’d spent time in the sun, golden highlights streaking the tousled waves. The other man was lighter, with sandy-blond hair and an ethereal masculine beauty more akin to the marble statues she’d seen depicting gods and angels in the Met.
“Thierry, it is so good to see you.” Gabriel clasped the darker man’s hand and gave him a quick hug in greeting. So, this was the friend they’d come to see.
Thierry smiled and clapped him on the back.
He then turned and gave Kadence the once over, speaking to Gabriel lowly in French as his eyes roamed over her. She could guess what he said, a blush coming to her cheeks at the open appraisal he gave her. A light came to his pale, gray eyes, and they sparkled even more when he smiled at her.
Michel clasped Thierry in welcome as Gabriel moved to the other man, grasping the man in welcome. “Alain, I was not expecting you here.”
The angelic one called Alain nodded and smiled. “Thierry called me. Said you might need my help.”
“Your sword would be much appreciated.”
“I’m glad you all made it here safely.” Thierry switched to English. His eyes never left Kadence as he spoke. “My dear, welcome to my home.”
He walked over and took her hand, placing a kiss to the top of it.
As they walked into the home, Gabriel told the men about the Illuminati they’d seen at the train station and something about “the gypsy”. Knowing glances were exchanged and Kadence felt lost in the conversation. That feeling wasn’t unusual for the past couple of days. Thierry squeezed her arm and she looked up into his welcoming face. He smiled at her again, the twinkle in his eyes, the smile on his comfortable face, they belied the strength she sensed rumbled close to the surface.
She was overwhelmed by all the men surrounding her. She’d had a few days to grow accustomed to Michel and Gabriel and the smoldering sexuality and raw power they exuded. But multiplying it by two, added to her exhaustion, and she could not fight the strength that rolled off them all in waves. She needed to be on her toes around these men, and today, she could barely stand.
She needed a shower and a bed…and not necessarily in that order. Some decent food wouldn’t be rejected either. Wobbling on her feet, she reached for the car to steady herself, but Thierry caught her first.
“You are exhausted, ma petite. We must get you inside.” Thierry offered her his elbow and then led her into the home once she took his offer.
She gazed at the space as she entered, seeing the beauty and elegance that surrounded her, but too tired to pay attention to most of it at that point. He led her into a bright, airy kitchen and sat her behind an old scarred table. Once she was seated, he opened a bottle of red and poured her a glass. She took it with a smile and swallowed half of it in one large gulp. The liquid warmed her as it slid down her throat. But once it reached her stomach, unease hit her immediately.
Small hunks of cheese and a section of crusty bread were placed before her, and she dove in, her stomach rebelling a little at the wine. It soon settled as she swallowed a few bites of the still warm bread and a bite or two of the Munster. Taking another piece of bread, she looked up to see all four men staring at her.
Self-consciousness settled in. Sitting back, she returned their gazes, lowering the food and wine, refusing to take another mouthful.
Thierry refilled her wine glass as well as his own and he took a long gulp, insisting she eat. “I’ve a guest room ready for you. You will be safe here for at least a shower and some rest. I took the liberty to acquire some clothing for you. It is also in the room. As soon as you have your fill, you are welcome to it.”
She could kiss the man for offering her food, a shower, a bed, and a change of clothing. More than she’d even asked for. Rising, she wobbled again. The damned heels were being thrown away at the first opportunity.
Gabriel moved to her and gathered her in his arms, steadying her. His heat leeched into her and she loved the sensation. “I will show you the way, querida.”
He led her from the space and she felt all eyes on her back. She was too tired to care anymore. Let them stare.
Gabriel moved ahead of her in the narrow hallway, his hand gently coaxing her along. Watching Gabriel’s strong back and ass before her, she was at liberty to ogle him all she wanted. Even as tired as she was, she couldn’t ignore how perfectly proportioned the man was. Wide shoulders tapered to a narrow waist. His ass was perfectly round, but not too big. She could see herself holding on to it as he thrust into her. Strong thighs showed power in every step.
Sleep. She needed sleep. Not sex.
By the time he opened the bedroom door, she was practically in heat. Fatigue disappeared, the need she’d felt for him returned ten-fold. He walked into the bathroom and she heard the shower turn on. As he returned to the bedroom, he had begun to take off his clothing.
“You’re exhausted. I don’t trust you to stay on your feet, querida.”
The mention of trust, or lack thereof, made her stiffen. She hated that they thought of her as a potential threat, and now her mind drifted as to their dependability. She hoped Thierry had answers for them. Good ones.
Deciding that she was too tired to fight him, she shimmied out of her dress and left it on the floor. She kicked off the shoes and began fighting with her garters and hose. A nude Gabriel kneeled before her and moved her hands away. His eyes lifted to hers before returning to the task at hand. Shivers wracked her body from the barely there caress of his finge
rs over her thighs. Once done, he rose and removed her bra.
“So beautiful.” He cupped her breasts in his hands, squeezing the tender flesh in his palms. “Thierry is quite enamored with you.”
She couldn’t ignore the hint of jealousy in his voice. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard it. And she couldn’t ignore the ripple of pleasure it gave her that he felt the emotion. It gave her a tiny glimmer of hope that they could repair what was broken between them and move ahead.
He released her breasts and grasped her hand softly in his. Leading her to the shower, he entered in behind her. She stepped into the multiple showerheads and let the warm water slide all over her body. It felt miraculous, invigorating and relaxing all in the same moment. Gabriel brought fingers to her scalp and began to work shampoo into her hair, the floral scent of it reaching her nose and calming her almost as much as his hands.
No man had ever washed her hair and it felt wonderful. His strong fingers worked over her scalp, just firm enough to make her body soften further, the need to moan coming to her lips. Once she was rinsed, he washed her body with a soft cloth and a sweet smelling soap. His hands worked over her body, massaging as much as cleaning, and by the end, she could barely stand. He rinsed her and turned off the shower.
A towel was wrapped around her and he lifted her off the ground and into his arms. Carried to the bed, she barely heard his instruction for her to rest. She drifted off moments later as she felt Gabriel slide in behind her.
****
Awakening, Kadence was disoriented, the room around her unfamiliar. Dream images came to her mind, a trip via train, Mr. Dreamy at the fore. Her dreams were really kicking into high gear. Perhaps it was time to seek professional help to work through what it was that was making her dreams so realistic.
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