An Affair of Vengeance

by Michele, Jamie

  “More intimately?” McCrea’s hackles rose at the suggestive word. He sucked down another gulp of juice.

  “Certainly. You wouldn’t object, would you? I’m sure you could use a bit of free time with the boys.”

  “Of course. As you wish.”

  “Wonderful.” Kral looked up, his pale eyes reflecting a robin’s-egg blue from the early-morning sky. “She is such a fascinating specimen, isn’t she? Where did you say you met her?”

  “At a meeting with—”

  “No, no!” Kral cut him off. “I shouldn’t have asked. Let’s keep our business out of mixed company. Besides, I recall now. Our mutual friend did tell me the circumstances of your rendezvous. But do share: how did she come to work in such a place as that restaurant? Widely known as a haven for criminals, is it not?”

  “It’s just a bar. I suppose it’s fashionable. I have no idea why she was working there.”

  “You have no idea?”

  “No. I assume she needed money, as I assume she still does. One reason she’s hooked up with me, for now.”

  “McCrea,” Kral clucked. “Surely you thought that she should not be trusted so quickly? Is it not suspicious for a beautiful woman to attach herself to you so quickly?”

  “She’s easily enamored.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. Most likely she just likes her bad boys. Idiotic women; they’ll put up with anything for a bit of the fast life. That is the most likely scenario. But you know how careful I am.”

  “I’m learning.”

  “Good. You cannot be too careful, you know.” Kral leaned forward. His smile pulled back into a snarl. “I thought you understood that. It’s one of the reasons I invited you here. I never expected you to bring a stranger into my midst.”

  “She’s just a woman.”

  Kral beamed, reaching out to pat McCrea’s shoulder. “Do not worry about your girlfriend. I will take her on a walk this morning and get to know her myself. I will make sure she’s to be trusted, no? Just leave her to me.”

  “Wake up, Evangeline. You’ve got to go.”

  “We’ve had this discussion already,” Evangeline mumbled, wiping her eyes. She turned over and faced McCrea, standing at the edge of the bed. “Go where? What time is it?”

  He slid onto the bed, his body making a dent in the mattress that made it difficult for her not to roll into him. “It’s a little after eight. Kral wants to take you into town for a walk.”

  “Oh.” Her brain awakened with a start and began reconnecting dots. Kral’s castle. Picture of her parents’ murder. McCrea, concerned and insistent. “How soon?”

  “As soon as you’re ready. But listen…” He leaned closer, doing what looked like a half push-up on the mattress to whisper in her ear. “You can’t go with him.”

  “What? Why not?” She rested on her elbows. “Why do you insist on fighting me at every turn? I can mine him for information.”

  “No. He suspects something.”

  Her blood cooled. “How do you know? What did he say?”

  “Little things. Mostly that he needs to make sure you can be trusted. That’s why he wants you alone.”

  “And you don’t think I can pass muster?”

  “I don’t want you to have to try.”

  “Trying is all we’ve got.” She brushed a disobedient curl out of her eyes and watched him stare blankly at a hot pink pillow. “I already told you I’m not hiding out here.”

  He fell to his back, resting his head next to hers. “I wish you would. It’s one thing to go out together. Another to be out alone.”

  “I’ve been out alone before.”

  “Not on my watch. It’s different now.”

  “It’s the same. You’ve just got someone watching your back now.”

  “And I’ve got one more back to watch.”

  “I wish you’d stop thinking of me as baggage. I would have made it here without you, eventually.” She stretched her legs, yawned hugely. Her vertebrae felt sore. She never failed to sleep like a rock, but soft beds did her bones no favors. “Be glad we’re together.”

  “I am glad. I still wish you were somewhere safer.” He touched her neck. “You look tired.”

  “Thanks.” She loved his hands on her, but she didn’t want this to turn into another sensual explosion. She turned her jaw to one side and her neck cracked.

  “I heard that.” He began to rub, and she couldn’t resist. As soon as he pressed his thumbs on each side of her spine she realized how badly she ached. Her head lolled against the light pressure.

  He nudged something deep in her neck and she groaned. “I can’t tell if that feels great or terrible, but please don’t stop.”

  He kept massaging, his touch growing more careful. “Your muscles are all bunched up.”

  “As if I have time to think about it.”

  “It’s the life,” he agreed. “Maybe someday…”

  “Someday, what?”

  His hands stilled on her back. She wished he wouldn’t stop. She liked this tender touch, with an undercurrent of understanding and concern. She felt partnered, and as she formed the thought, she realized that this variety of affection was just as dangerous as a kiss.

  He pulled away. “Someday you’ll be safe, and you can make a new sort of life for yourself.”

  She rolled over to face him. “I don’t want—”

  “Forget it. I’m just talking nonsense. You can’t fault a man for wishing for things that can’t be.” He shook his head, sending a little wave through the bed. “You’ve got to go soon. Promise me you won’t press him.”

  “I promise you I’ll do my job.” She sat up.

  He pulled himself upright and laid his hand over hers. “Just be careful. Please.”

  His concern warmed her even more than did his touch. She smiled, and linked her fingers with his. “I’ll do my best.”

  Kral didn’t bring guards along on their walk. Evangeline thought he should have. As they exited the main gate of the fortress and wandered into a cobbled lane off the main road, all she could think of was how easy it would be to wrap her hands around his throat and push down, forcing the life from his soulless body.

  Shocked at her bloodlust, she put more space between them. She wanted to bring him to justice, not gouge his heart out. Didn’t she?

  He drew a loud breath. “I’m pleased that you are with me today, dear Evangeline. Though many women come and go here, I find that very few are worth conversing with.”

  “I’m flattered, but I don’t know if I’m all that much different from the other women here. Adriana is a riot, you know. I never knew a supermodel would be so down-to-earth.”

  “I’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself. I do try to make the time that my guests spend here as carefree as possible.”

  He took her arm—she steeled herself not to pull away—and guided her into a cool, narrow alley. The crumbling structures lining the alley weren’t very tall, but they were so close together that the midmorning sun had no chance of reaching the ground. Sharp clangs and dull twangs echoed out of open windows. Splashes told her someone was washing dishes nearby. They sauntered past an open door and she heard a woman singing softly in time with the gentle swish of a straw broom. Above the ground, a broad-shouldered woman leaned out a window to pin damp white towels onto a clothesline that extended across the alley to the house beyond.

  The washerwoman bellowed her greetings in Czech as Evangeline and Kral passed under her blue-shuttered window. Kral looked up and smiled widely, returning her greeting in his native tongue along with a wish for her good health.

  Evangeline sensed that this was a moment to find out more about this town. “I don’t mean to pry, but I can’t help but notice that these people aren’t speaking French.”

  “You are correct. That’s because they are not French. They are Czech, as am I.”

  “I don’t understand. Why are they here?”

  “It’s simple, really. My career brings certain dangers that I
’m willing to accept for myself. But when I realized that my family and friends, too, could be forced to bear that burden, I chose the only path that seemed available.”

  “You moved all of your friends and family to France?”

  “Those who wished to come, yes.”

  “Was it hard to convince everyone to leave?”

  Kral didn’t answer immediately. They walked farther down the alley and turned another corner, finding the morning sun bright and full on the cobblestones. Here, two old men sat on metal folding chairs, playing chess under an umbrella. The men were silent as Evangeline and Kral passed, but looked up briefly and nodded greetings.

  “You see, they’re happy here. Many years ago, I offered my people the opportunity to live in a traditional way, as they longed to do, but free from the danger and deprivation of our homeland. All jumped at the chance.”

  “And children? I saw children on our drive through town yesterday. Is there a school, doctors, everything?”

  Kral looked at her with an indulgent smile. “Dear Evangeline, how I forget! You are a woman. You must care about such things. We will visit the school. I would hate to think that you are anything but completely satisfied with the level of services that I provide to my family.”

  Evangeline thought she heard an edge in his voice, so she smiled and shook her head. “Please don’t think I’m criticizing. It’s just an unusual place, and I’m fascinated by how it operates.”

  “I understand. You are nothing if not curious.”

  He emphasized “curious,” giving her a chill.

  “If I can be honest, my dear, my reasons for uprooting my family are sprung from tragedy.”

  She had no idea what he was talking about. “Tragedy?”

  “Yes.” He looked down at his feet as they walked down another sunny street. “When I was a young man, I met a girl in a coffee shop in Prague. I had met many girls by then—too many, according to her—and she surprised me by being the only one who refused to meet with me in the evening. Ever. She said that anything that I needed to say to her I could say during the day, and that men who wanted to see a woman at night had nothing but bad intentions up their sleeves.

  “She was right, of course. You only had to see her for your intentions to begin turning ungentlemanly. But she was such an unrivaled beauty, and so full of mystery, that I succumbed to her every demand. I do not particularly like coffee, but for four months, it tasted like the finest wine because I drank it with her.”

  Evangeline felt sick at the thought of how the story might end. She’d seen nothing about a wife or serious girlfriend in his dossier, an omission that did not bode well for Kral’s supposed heroine. But she forced a smile. “What’s her name?”

  He closed his eyes and tilted his face to the sun. “Eliska. In our language, it means ‘truthful.’ And she was far more truthful than I, for I didn’t dare tell her what occupied my time when I wasn’t with her. I wanted her to love me. You see, with her I was innocent. We talked of Kafka, and of poetry and art. We talked of visiting the West, and I vowed that one day, I would take her there. She was a practical woman, like so many who grew up under Communism, so she dismissed the idea as far-fetched, but I could tell that it pleased her. I liked to bring her gifts, little things that she thought had no value. Like you, she couldn’t tell diamonds from crystals. She had no idea what expensive things she wore, and I never told her. She would have given them back in shame at hoarding so much wealth for herself.”

  “She sounds fascinating.” She sounds too good for you, Evangeline mused, and headed for tragedy.

  “She was. And I fell in love with her so completely that I could not extricate myself. I was stubborn and refused to see that our worlds were too different for us to ever be together anywhere but in that coffee shop. Despite my growing sense of doom, we were married on a bright day in the fall. She was repelled at first when she realized how much money I had, but I assured her I gave my family most of what I earned, and that I only took money from the Party. I found myself continually lying to her, but her eyes! Her eyes told me how clearly she saw through me. Like an eagle. A great, noble eagle, she was.”

  Kral’s grip on Evangeline’s arm tightened. They proceeded into an open square flooded with morning sun. At the far corner sat a large wooden cart piled high with crates of fluffy, spun-wool roving, reams of spun fiber, and woven blankets. Bounty from the local land, she guessed, getting ready to head into town for tomorrow’s market.

  “I couldn’t fool her, and I couldn’t save her,” he continued. “I was brash and stupid, two qualities I no longer allow in myself or in those who work for me.”

  His whole face twitched violently.

  She must have flinched, because he turned to her and smiled.

  “Are you afraid of me, my dear?”

  “Afraid?” she said, wondering what he wanted to hear. “Should I be?”

  “Of course not. The only people who need fear me are those who have crossed me. You haven’t crossed me, have you?”

  “No. I barely know you.”

  “One doesn’t need to know a person to hurt them. Is that not true? Have you never been hurt from afar?”

  A bird in a tree caught her eye, giving her a moment to think. She didn’t want to answer his question. She watched the bird, a little, brown thing, hop from branch to branch of an olive tree in the center of the courtyard.

  “Lucky things, birds,” he said, following her line of sight. “How I envy their ability to fly away.”

  “Me too.”

  “My eagle—my Eliska—she could not fly away, not for all her strength. She was tethered to the earth by my love.”

  “What happened to her?” They turned up an alley. The high stone wall of the fortress loomed at its end.

  “Someone slit her throat. She bled out. Died painfully, I imagine.”

  So stark was his revelation that she stumbled on her feet. Had he killed her? Or had she been another innocent bystander in his war? “I am so sorry,” she said, knowing what words were required at that moment. “Losing the one you love is among the worst tragedies I can imagine.”

  “It is the worst. The very worst. Have you felt it?”

  She swallowed hard. She didn’t think she could ignore this question, too. They passed an open doorway with no one inside. She wondered whether he was leading her back to the castle, or if he would shuttle her inside one of these buildings. She had an urge to be near McCrea again, despite all her tough talk of being comfortable on her own. She had been before, or at least she’d thought she’d been. But here, alone with Kral, she wanted backup. She wanted McCrea. Maybe she’d never be truly safe in this job, but with McCrea at her side, at least she felt like she wasn’t quite so alone.

  “I have lost someone,” she answered.

  “I suspected as much.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. You’re too bright to be dating McCrea for, how shall I say it? Kicks? Getting back at Daddy, maybe?” He laughed, a chilling trill that ran goose bumps across her skin. “Not you. You’re looking for something to fill the void. McCrea is a powerful presence. He fills your void.”

  “Maybe. Probably. I’m sure you’re right.” She quickened her pace as they neared the fortress wall. She wanted desperately to be inside again, to be anything but alone with this man.

  “Whom did you lose, dear?” His hand on her arm pulled her back, slowed her down.

  Her mind raced. Part of her wanted to tell him that she knew he had ordered her parents dead. The other part of her remembered McCrea insisting that she not press Kral. She’d waited months for this moment, but now that it was here, she couldn’t take it, not if she wanted to escape with her life. Hamstrung, she lied, but made it something he couldn’t fact-check. “My dog.”

  Kral stopped dead. “Dog?”

  She nodded. “I had a dog when I was a kid. It died when I was in high school. Tore me up.”

  His nostrils flared and eyes showed white. “You compare your
dog to my Eliska?”

  “No,” she said. “You did. You asked me who I’d lost. That’s my answer. I’m sorry you don’t like it.”

  “I did ask. I just didn’t—” he said, thin lips trembling. “It’s no matter. We should head back. No sense in making McCrea worry needlessly over his dark flower.”

  Alone in his room, McCrea’s worry for Evangeline’s safety irritated him like a mosquito bite: he knew he should leave it alone, but the more he tried to ignore it, the more it itched. She and Kral had left the compound on their morning stroll through the village not five minutes earlier. That left the perfect opportunity for McCrea to see what had captured Evangeline’s interest in the cellar last night, but he was driven to distraction by the crazy look he’d seen in Kral’s eyes at breakfast that morning. Kral clearly didn’t trust Evangeline, but there was nothing McCrea could do about it other than hope like hell that she could handle herself during his interrogation.

  Handle herself? Ridiculous hope. What did he expect her to do if attacked, trapped as she was in a town patrolled by armed guards who’d shoot her at a flick of Kral’s finger?

  No, if Kral wanted her dead, she was dead. There was nothing more to be done. He’d be smart to use his free time to his advantage. He owed her bravery that much. Besides, she’d kick him if he did nothing but fret while she put up with Kral’s one-on-one attention.

  He left the room, checking out the pool as he walked to the stairs. Several lithe beauties frolicked amid the potted palms. Well, “frolicked” was an overstatement, but they certainly did lounge. Indolently, as though the sun and lack of nutritional sustenance had sapped their energy. Each had taut, well-oiled skin that shimmered bronze in the sunlight. Their fingers and toes glistened with perfectly applied nail polish. The women were uniformly motionless and difficult to tell apart, and with their eyes veiled by enormous sunglasses he couldn’t tell if they were awake or asleep.

  They were naked, completely naked, but their exposed flesh didn’t grab his attention for long.

  He trotted down the steps and into the courtyard. As yesterday, the men sat at the large poolside table and played poker with high denominations of euros. Pierre-Louis, Claude, and a man who must be Gaston had firm, hairy guts that spilled over the top of their tiny swim briefs. Jean-Marie, though, was impossibly thin and pale in his swimwear, and had a striped pattern of dark chest hair that made him look like a zebra. Each man smoked a cigar or hand-rolled cigarette. On the table, a nearly empty bottle of champagne sweated in a silver ice bucket.