by Shea Godfrey
“Of course we have. We’re counting on it.”
Melora laughed, turning her attention to the empty hearth. “I’ve seen her fight and so have you. For all that it crushes etiquette and propriety under its boot heel, she’s damned good at it, and most certainly better than he is.”
“She would never challenge him in such a manner.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
“Owen would never allow it.”
“Owen has betrayed her!” Melora snapped. “Even though we hate each other now, I knew her well once upon a day. She has always been ruled by her heart. He can no more control her now than he could a dog that’s turned. If her dagger winds up at Malcolm’s feet, short of locking her in chains and stripping her of her rank and title, he can do nothing about it. And even then Malcolm must answer her challenge or be branded a coward, accused of using his station to avoid a reckoning for his actions.”
Marteen smiled at her.
“What?” Melora demanded.
“And should Owen be forced to do such a thing, how do you think he will look then upon the throne? Such a great burden as that, being the architect of his own child’s destruction. Forced to cast her out in order to protect the succession to his throne. Cast out like an orphan, poor little Darry. And Cecelia, our sad and noble Queen. Divided between her husband and her sweet little backwards girl? Their bed will be cold for months, maybe even years. It’s happened before.” He clicked his tongue. “So heavy is the burden of the crown.”
Melora stared in disbelief. “You can’t possibly be serious, though even if you are, Malcolm would still have to answer her challenge.”
“He may choose a champion in his stead. And it is the King’s right to step in if he feels so inclined, do not forget. What would you do, Mel, if your children went to war? Darrius would never raise her sword to her King, and Owen will know that, despite any bad blood. It is his right within the strictures of the Blooded Duel to usurp Malcolm’s place on the field of honor. Standing in the yards, a sword in her hand as she faces her own father?” he said. “No matter what he’s done to her she would forfeit and walk away. Even you cannot predict an outcome other than that. And then it’s off into the night with you, little backwards cunt. One problem solved.”
“So you hope.”
“It’s merely one scenario among many that play to our advantage.”
“And so why is she here, Bharjah’s little songbird?”
“She has a part to play, to be sure. But for now she buys us time.”
“Time for what?”
“Time to sway Joaquin.”
*
Darry sat in the far corner of her old chambers with her knees drawn up. Her hands would occasionally tremble and she would pull at the dark material of her trousers and hold tight.
The panther pulsed thick in her blood and every so often she would catch her breath and tip her head back at the brutal rush of its power. She would smile as well, now and then, as the hours passed, watching as if from a distance as her senses adapted and absorbed the primal force of it all. She could smell human flesh beyond the walls that she had once called her own, and the scent was pungent and dark.
She had not slept there since Aidan. They had made love in the bed more than a few times and discovered the pleasures that passion can bring. Discovered the secrets of love and the joys of yielding up one’s body to the touch of another. After Aidan had spurned her she could find no peace in the familiar confines of her childhood rooms.
Darry could smell the smoke from the hearths in the kitchens, no matter that it was half a world away. She could smell the meat cooking. She could smell the blood and her stomach reacted. Her shoulders pulled inward against the onslaught of hunger.
She wanted to prowl. She wanted to move and strike and bend low upon the hunt, searching out her prey amidst the cold stones and dead timber.
But you will come to me, won’t you?
She heard voices, distant and unconcerned in their conversation. She could smell the change in the world and knew the sun was rising.
I can wait.
Chapter Twenty
Cecelia turned from the patio and walked slowly through the hall. She was considering the party from the day before and smiled occasionally, thinking it had gone rather well. But for Darry’s absence, though I’m not surprised. I know how you chafe at such functions, sweet Cat. Too many ladies and too much gossip. I would’ve thought you’d be there for Jessa, though.
Cecelia pulled out a chair from one of the tables and sat down. Gossip. That subtle blade has cut you too often.
Jessa seemed to have enjoyed herself and been somewhat enchanted by Nina Lewellyn in the process. Cecelia grinned at the thought of her niece, so utterly without shame and as wild as Darry had ever been. What a mouth you have on you, sweet girl. I’ve not heard such cursing since last I saw your father.
She lifted her chalice and took a slow drink. Where are you hiding, Cat?
Movement caught her eyes and Bentley walked beneath the main entrance. His uniform was impeccable as always and he carried his shoulders back with an easy grace. Bloody hell and hounds but is there a Greeves man who isn’t beautiful?
She could see his expression as he neared, and though she had expected his half-hidden smile at being summoned, she was greeted instead by a rather sedate look as he clicked his boot heels and bowed his head before her.
“Lieutenant.”
“My Lady.”
“Where is my daughter?”
“I don’t know, my Lady.”
Cecelia turned to face him more directly. “I beg your pardon?”
“It does in fact happen, my Lady.”
“You had watch together last night. She didn’t tell you her plans?”
Bentley’s left hand tightened on his sword hilt. “No.”
Cecelia regarded him closely, knowing him almost as well as one of her own children. “She was not at my party yesterday,” she said, and his eyes darkened at her words, a tiny crease appearing above the bridge of his nose. “Nor dinner last night. Nor at lunch today, though she was expected. She was on duty with you, was she not?”
“She was on the roster, yes.”
“Don’t play games, Bentley. Was she on duty with you or not?”
“No, my Lady, she was not.”
“But she was supposed to be.”
“Yes, my Lady.”
“She missed her turn at guard?”
“Yes, my Lady.”
Cecelia sat forward in her chair. “What excuse did she give?”
Bentley said nothing.
“Answer me, Lieutenant.”
“She gave none, my Lady,” he replied. “No one has seen her since yesterday afternoon, when she left the barracks to attend your party.”
“She came to the party?”
“She was not looking forward to it, if you must know. But she had every intention of attending.”
Cecelia pushed against the table and rose, then walked several feet before turning back to him. “Well, where in the bloody hell is she then? Grissom must be livid.”
“He’s not pleased, my Lady.”
“You’ve looked for her?”
“Yes, my Lady. Darry’s Boys have been looking since last night.”
“Don’t tell me that she’s drunk in a tavern somewhere, Bentley Greeves, or I shall strip the hide from both your bones.”
“Bentley,” she said with less heat, seeing his worry.
“No, my Lady, she’s not drunk in a tavern somewhere.”
When he said no more, Cecelia’s concern escalated. “Bentley, please.”
“I’m afraid something’s wrong, mum, and I don’t know where she’d go. Her loft is empty and the bed wasn’t slept in. She would never disregard her duty, not ever. When she didn’t show up I sent Arkady and Etienne to look for her, then later the others as well when they came back without her. The only place we haven’t searched is the residence.”
“Thank you, Ben
tley,” she said quietly. “You may return to your duties. I will see to my daughter.”
Bentley stood his ground, a look of stubbornness settling on his features.
“Then wait here. I’ll send her along.”
“You know where she is?” he asked quickly as she walked away, striding with purpose toward the main arch. “Mum?”
“Wait here.”
*
Cecelia stood outside the door to Darry’s old chambers and stared at the handle, thinking of a day long ago when she had done the very same thing, the same fear moving even now within her breast.
Cecelia stepped across the threshold and into the shadows, closing the door.
The main chamber was murky and the furniture covered with tarps, the bed stripped clean and no doubt filled with dust. The chairs and the divan looked oddly sinister beneath their covers. The shutters were closed along the balustrade and Cecelia remembered when last they had been open.
Darry had stood before them so young and lean and looking as if she were about to break beneath all her strength. Cecelia had watched her lock the shutters and stood helpless as Darry had picked up her satchel of belongings. Darry had said she was going away for a few days and kissed her cheek and Cecelia had let her go, not knowing that a few days would turn into one of the longest years of her life.
The sea and all its terrible dangers had taken her daughter, and Cecilia could not do a thing once it was known. Darry had even left poor Bentley behind. The boy was absolutely lost without her and nearly found his own sort of destruction in her absence.
Cecelia moved into the main room. “Darry?”
Darry closed her eyes at the voice. Her mother’s scent was heady and filled with fear. Darry tipped her head back against the wall and her stomach churned with violence. The stones were pleasing against her back, and she almost groaned at their coolness for her blood was very warm and not entirely her own.
Cecelia stood very still, allowing her eyes to adjust. “Darrius, answer me.”
“I’m here.”
Cecelia narrowed her eyes into the darker shadows beside the hearth and saw the white of Darry’s tunic and then her hair. She walked to her, her fear rising like a knife when Darry’s eyes met her own. She stopped several feet away. “What is happening here, Darrius?”
“What’s happening here, Mother?”
The cruel mocking of Darry’s tone startled Cecelia. “You’ve neglected your duty, Darrius, and you’ve worried a great many people. What are you doing in here?”
Darry laughed. “Duty, yes. I’ve neglected my duty, haven’t I? And these are my rooms. Have I not the right to be here?”
“Yes, of course.” Cecelia tried to find her footing without slipping. “They will always be yours. It’s just…I thought you no longer wanted them.”
“No,” Darry said. “You’re right. I would sooner see them burn than spend another night beneath your fucking roof.”
“Stop this, Cat.” She took a step closer. “What is this?” What has happened?
“I spoke with Melora Salish, yesterday,” Darry answered. “Who used to be my friend. Who used to share secrets with me.”
Cecelia let out a hard breath. Melora.
“She had one last secret to tell,” Darry said. “I think she’s been saving it, like a special present for Winter’s Eve. Holding it tight to her breast for when it would please her most to give it to me.”
“And this secret was what?”
“Her secret was Aidan.”
The name stunned Cecelia to the core. No, Cat. That’s not what she told you.
Darry’s smile was savage. “My Aidan, Mother, and Melora clearly enjoyed the telling of it. The secret of my Aidan and what really happened to her.”
Cecelia’s heart twisted beneath the venom within Darry’s voice, but she gathered her courage quickly. “What did she tell you?”
“What did she tell you?” Darry mimicked.
“Darrius.”
“Mother.”
“Answer me!”
“Answer me!” Darry repeated, and laughed, pushing from the wall then moving through the shadows. “Answer me, answer me…” she said, her voice fading in confusion as if the words themselves made no sense. She shook her head with a jerk, as if something pulled at her, and a strange, guttural noise moved past her lips. Cecelia flinched at the sound. “Answer me. Answer you what?” Darry faced her. “You should be answering me.”
Cecelia understood then that she could do nothing but give in. Darry would never relent when so cornered. Never. The conversation they were about to have, that she was about to provoke by her next words, was to have never taken place, and that had been by her own desperate design. She savored the silence between them for as long as she dared. “Will you let me explain what happened?”
“I know what happened, my Queen.”
Cecelia cringed at the tone and the disdainful use of her title. “Do not take that tack with me, Darrius Lauranna. I asked you a direct question.”
“And I gave you a direct answer.”
“Your anger will solve nothing, Darrius. Let us just talk.”
“Talking and talking. I’m done with fucking talking!” Darry yelled. “I’m done with letting them pick at my flesh like carrion!” She pounded her fists against her temple as she began to pace back and forth over a few short feet of space. “Picking and picking…picking at me…”
Cecelia had never seen her like this. It was as if something in Darry’s mind had broken loose. She had seen her temper before, yes, but not like this, and it caused her hands to tremble. Darry was speaking under her breath, lost within something powerful that Cecelia could sense but did not understand.
“Always trying to do what’s best.”
“Darry, please, just calm down.” Cecelia stepped closer with great care.
“It’s all meant nothing. Nothing.”
“Darling, please.”
Darry bent forward as she released her power and it filled the room with its brutality, her scream but raw noise. From deep within the far Green Hills Darry felt an answering howl of pain echo along her spine, and for an instant she smelled the depths of the wild land, thick and dark within her senses. Her world tilted as she stood in two places at once, a shaft of pain creasing behind her eyes.
“Darry!” Cecelia called.
The silence echoed with violence.
“Darrius?” Cecelia whispered.
Darry turned to her as if startled. “I am finished with hiding myself and turning away. And I’m done with my duty to your fucking liar of a husband, do you hear? I play no more at rebellion. It is in earnest until this is over.”
The declaration sent a chill through Cecelia, and she tried to gather herself, frantically searching for the proper course. “What will you do?” she said, her own tone charged with emotion. “Challenge your—”
“I want blood!” Darry cried out. “Did Melora lie? Did you know? Did you?”
There it is, Cecelia thought with despair. But I’ll not play by your rules, Darry, not like this. You must breathe, you must just breathe, please. “That she loved you?” Cecelia asked softly, barely finding her voice against the rage assaulting her senses. “That Aidan loved you?”
Darry said nothing, seemingly puzzled by the question. “Aidan.”
“Yes, Aidan,” Cecelia repeated in a soothing voice. “I knew that she loved you from the first moment she saw you. You and Wyatt walked in and Aidan looked up. It was as if she had seen the sun for the first time. I thought it was your brother, but you walked across the study wanting to see Emma’s thread…and Aidan’s eyes followed you as if they could look nowhere else.” The shaking of Darry’s body began to slow as she took a breath. “And the blush rose along her neck. I knew she was lost.”
“What have you done?”
That’s it. Just breathe, baby. “And Aidan laughed at something you said. Do you remember? And you smiled at her.”
“Did you know, Mother?”
“Mother, please.”
“Not at first,” Cecelia said, her voice trembling. “Not at first, my darling.”
Darry leaned forward at the pain in her stomach and clutched her tunic as the bile rose in her throat and she swallowed it. I can smell your blood. I can smell it, Mother. Get away from me. Please, please get away. She had wanted to let it come and so it had, but it was too much. Hinsa!
“I didn’t know until you were gone on the Zephyr,” Cecelia said. She knew she sounded desperate despite the fact that it was the truth. “Cat, please, I didn’t know until it was too late.”
Darry lashed out at the hands at her face. “Don’t touch me!”
Cecelia felt pain in her right arm and a glancing blow against her temple, and she stumbled backward. She caught herself on the arm of a chair and spun back, staring as Darry advanced.
Darry stopped with a jerk. She stepped back in an awkward manner and grasped her head between her hands. Hinsa, please…help me.
“I thought…” Darry spoke in a strangled voice, trying to catch her breath. “I thought I wasn’t enough.” Darry tightened her hands on her skull, trying to keep it from splitting. “I thought she didn’t love me anymore…she said…all those things she said, that I did something wrong.”
“No,” Cecelia said quickly. “No, my love, you did nothing wrong.”
Darry felt Hinsa’s presence in the maze and it invaded her very bones. Her flesh vibrated beneath the panther’s elemental authority and her savage blood began to recede.
She closed her eyes and let out a long, slow breath at the blessed sound. Hinsa’s divine purr of calm moved in her bones and she wiped at her mouth. “Yes, I did something wrong.”
“You did nothing wrong,” Cecelia repeated.
Darry took another long breath and everything flowed through her. She felt the wrenching need for blood lessen. “I believed.”