by Zoey Draven
Valerie wondered just how much Ravu had told her.
Something pulled at the back of her mind, of Dravka saying that she wouldn’t have to worry about Gabriel Larchmont, that ‘they’ would take care of everything.
“What…” Valerie licked her lips, lowering her voice. “What did he tell you?”
Celine inhaled a long breath through her nostrils before sighing. “Everything.”
Valerie’s heart stuttered a bit in her chest, panicked that Celine might go to Madame Allegria, panicked that Ravu might be—
Suddenly, Celine held something up between them.
Something Valerie recognized.
A Blue Light drive that had been in her desk. A slim, thin stick, no bigger than a pen.
“Did you know about this?” Celine asked.
“About what?”
“Ravu said the financial records of the brothel are on this,” Celine continued. “The untampered ones. The client list. The rushed business licenses, paid under the table. The accounting with false numbers. All of it. He told me everything about Madame Allegria, about what she’s been hiding.”
Valerie’s lungs didn’t seem to be working.
“I know why he gave it to me,” Celine continued, still regarding Valerie carefully. “Because of who my son is, because of you. And because I have the resources to help.”
What had Dravka been thinking? she thought, her mind whirring. She pressed her palm into the desk, the whole lobby seeming to sway a bit.
They’d planned this, that much was obvious. And while Valerie hadn’t been on the premises, they’d obviously managed to hack into the records downstairs and store them. But how? How would they have the knowledge to do something like that?
Suddenly, it made sense why Ravu was insistent that he meet with Celine that night. Because none of it would matter if he didn’t give her the Blue Light drive.
The Blue Light drive, given to a powerful woman who could actually make herself be heard, that had enough incriminating evidence on it for serious criminal charges to be brought against Madame Allegria.
Madame Allegria, who had no doubt blackmailed Celine Larchmont into agreeing to this marriage. Madame Allegria, who Celine Larchmont detested, who was sleeping with her son, which she also might know about or at least suspect.
Valerie stared at the woman across from her, her lips parted though no sound came out.
“For the record,” Celine said, “I never wanted you anywhere near my son. I never wanted her anywhere near my family.”
“What…what are you going to do?” Valerie asked softly, realizing that they were completely at Celine Larchmont’s mercy.
Because with the information on the Blue Light drive, Celine would have power over Madame Allegria. She would cancel the engagement since Celine never wanted the marriage to happen at all. Valerie would lose her leverage. What did that mean for the bargain she’d struck with her aunt? That Madame Allegria would close the brothel and pay the Keriv’i what she owed them…and her promise that she’d never harm any of them again?
Valerie swallowed. Suddenly, everything was vanishing around her like smoke.
“Like I said,” Celine murmured quietly, “I care about Ravu. And I want to help my friend.”
Celine slid something over the desk. A thick paper card, rectangular in shape.
On it, she’d written an address and a patch number.
It was a private dock number at the Port, one she knew was used for private charters because Madame Allegria often used them herself.
“Call me whenever you need to make use of it. We have a pilot on call for such things,” Celine explained. “He can be ready to fly on short notice.”
Shock made her stare at Celine.
“What about your husband? Wouldn’t he—”
“Don’t worry, I know how to handle my husband,” Celine told her. “I’ve had a lot of practice over the years.”
Valerie took the card, pocketing it quickly before the older woman changed her mind.
Celine glanced at where she’d placed it in her dress. After a brief moment of silence, she regarded Valerie carefully and said, “Consider that the end of your engagement to Gabriel. I don’t want you anywhere near my son. It has nothing to do with you, you understand, Valerie? In fact, I quite like you. It has everything to do with…everything else.”
Madame Allegria. Everton. Their family’s lineage and money. What was expected in society. The future of their company.
Celine Larchmont, when plotting out her son’s future, had never accounted for Valerie.
Valerie would deal with the fallout of the failed engagement later. Her priority would be getting Dravka, Tavak, and Ravu off Everton before Madame Allegria ever learned of this.
“And what about that?” Valerie asked, gesturing to the Blue Light drive, still in Celine’s grip.
Celine’s lips pressed together. “I haven’t decided yet. It is an intoxicating thing, to have one of Everton’s most powerful citizens under one’s heel.”
Valerie took a shuddering breath in.
“Will you give me a few days?” Valerie asked quietly. “Before you announce anything about the engagement, before you inform her? It’ll give me enough time to get them off Everton.”
Celine frowned. “You aren’t going with them? Ravu said—”
“I can’t,” Valerie said, thinking of the tracker imbedded in her shoulder. If Valerie went with them, Madame Allegria would follow. She always would. She didn’t want to think of the consequences when that happened.
Celine looked at her carefully. Finally, she nodded. “I’ll give you a few days before I force her to retract the engagement in the Gazette.”
A small reprieve.
“Thank you,” Valerie said, inclining her head, rounding the desk as Celine started towards the door.
Valerie walked her outside into the pleasant night air. The breeze was warm, another sign that summer had almost arrived at the Programmers’ discretion.
“The private vessel can’t go far,” Celine murmured once they stepped outside. “But it will take them as far as Nimida.”
The Nimida colony was a transport hub, one that catered to all beings from all corners of the universe. If the Keriv’i reached there, they could easily catch transport to the Second Quadrant. From there, Dumera was in reach.
Valerie nodded, seeing a driverless car waiting at the end of the walkway, idling at the curb. Celine must’ve called one before she came downstairs.
“Good luck,” Celine said, surprising Valerie when she reached forward and squeezed on her hand.
The woman turned, walking forward a few steps, her high heels clicking on the pathway.
“Celine!” Valerie called out.
The blonde turned, quirking a perfect brow.
Valerie blew out a small breath, not quite sure what she wanted to say.
“Your night garden really is beautiful. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see more of it,” she said softly, inclining her head to the woman who would’ve been her mother-in-law.
The smile that Celine gave her was possibly the most genuine one she’d ever seen from her. Something passed between them. An understanding, one that went beyond Everton, beyond the situation they had both found themselves in.
A simple understanding.
Celine nodded at her once more, her smile still lingering.
Then she departed, walking quickly to the driverless car, keeping her head down, before sliding inside.
The moment she was in, the car sped away…and then Valerie was alone outside, in the dark alleyway leading towards the brothel.
She took in a deep breath, tilting her head back to the night sky, at the projection of the moons—two tonight—and of the stars, fake, ancient constellations she’d only ever read about.
What just happened? she wondered, still in disbelief.
To reassure herself, she fished out the heavy card that Celine had written on, reading the address listed there, the dockin
g bay number, and Celine’s personal patch number until she had it memorized.
Suddenly, a soft, angry voice came from the entrance of the alleyway.
“Was that my mother?”
Valerie froze.
A dark figure approached her, stumbling slightly, but the voice was easily recognizable.
Gabriel.
A very drunk Gabriel at that, Valerie thought, when his reddened face and bleary eyes finally came into view.
Damn.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“What are you doing here, Gabriel?” Valerie asked, trying to keep her voice calm.
“What,” he snapped, continuing his approach, “is my mother doing at a fucking brothel?”
So he knew what this place was and where it was located. She wondered if Madame Allegria had let that information slip during their pillow talk.
“You’re drunk,” Valerie said, recognizing the tone she used as the one she usually used with visiting clients. Polite, calm, yet sterile. “Let me call you a car and—”
A gasp left her when Gabriel grabbed her arm, tugging her forward.
He must’ve been at Restaurant Row, which was the street just behind them, because she could smell the liquor on his breath, sour and pungent.
His grip on her was rough and though her heart began to race, realizing that they were alone in a darkened alley and he was very angry and very drunk, her tone never changed as she said, “Let me go, Gabriel. You’re hurting me.”
If anything, his grip tightened as Valerie struggled against him.
All her breath left her when he shoved her up against the alleyway wall, his eyes flashing in the darkness.
“What was my mother doing here?” he roared in her face, shaking her, her back pressing painfully into the wall.
“Gabriel, calm down,” she said, though her tone sounded a little higher in pitch than it had before. “She just came to see me. To talk…about the w-wedding.”
“Do you think I’m a fool?” he hissed, his brows furrowing, growing more and more angry by the second. “I’ll have her head for this.”
Whose? His mother’s? Or did he mean Madame Allegria’s?
The thought of Gabriel, as rich and powerful as his family was, going up against her aunt made her want to laugh. Perhaps it was because this situation was growing more and more worrisome.
“Tell me what you’re doing here,” Valerie said, trying to calm him down, even as she tried to edge out from underneath his grip. Her back was digging into the brick façade of the opposite building.
Thanks to the scar tissue there, however, she didn’t feel much. Just an uncomfortable pressure. If anything, the shoulder where her tracker was hurt the most. He’d slammed her into the wall hard. She swore the tracker pushed deeper into her shoulder.
“Is my mother fucking a Krave?” Gabriel asked her, keeping his voice terrifyingly low. Then, suddenly, his mood seemed to change. His eyes moved over her face. He pressed his body closer. His voice dropped until it was like a purr. “You can tell me. I’m to be your husband after all, my pretty little bride. We will have no secrets.”
A little shard of icy fear seemed to stab down her throat.
She tried to swallow, the sound audible between them.
“Tell me!” he snapped, a lock of his dark hair falling over his eyes as his sour breath drifted across her cheek. For someone so handsome, he hid his cruelty well. Just like her aunt.
Maybe they are perfect for each other, she couldn’t help but think.
“I told you,” she said, hating the way her voice trembled. “She just came to talk about the wedding. About—about the flowers! Which ones I preferred and—”
Valerie saw the exact moment when he grew frustrated with her and his patience ended. She saw it snap in his eyes and his hand darted out, quicker than expected, just as she heard a loud boom, something splintering across the ground.
Valerie had been hit enough times by Madame Allegria that she wasn’t surprised by the sharp flash of pain, the blooming heat across her face. Except Gabriel hadn’t slapped her. It was his fist that had connected with her temple and bright white spots seemed to dance in her vision afterwards, her hands coming up to ward off any further blows.
That was when she heard it.
A strange, trilling growl that seemed to echo through the alleyway.
Belatedly, she realized the loud boom she’d heard had been the door to the brothel. Part of it, as heavy as it was, was lying on the pathway. Splintered. Broken. Half of it was off its hinges.
And standing on the threshold was Dravka.
An enraged Dravka, with fury in his gaze.
Valerie barely had time to cry out before he lunged for Gabriel.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Rage and hatred like he’d never known seemed to choke him. Even losing his father and sister hadn’t felt like this. There had been grief there, an overwhelming depression combined with his helpless anger, but it hadn’t felt like this.
But the moment that Dravka had seen the human male strike Valerie, the moment he heard the thick, sickening thud of it landed across her temple, a place he’d kissed the night before, that rage snapped and lashed at him, like a whip across his back.
He didn’t remember lunging for him. He didn’t remember tackling him to the ground.
But before he knew it, the human male was underneath him, looking up at him with fear and bewilderment and perhaps a little bit of disgust.
So this was Gabriel Larchmont.
Dravka unleashed that fury, finding its channel, and his fist connected with the human’s face, that same sickening thud echoing through the alleyway. Dravka didn’t feel the dull ache from the bones compressing in his hand. He hit him again, a growl rising in his throat.
This male dared to harm his female!
“Get the fuck off of me!” Gabriel cried out, his nose leaking red blood, his tone nasally, bucking underneath him. Like he could squirm his little body out from underneath a Keriv’i. As if he was stronger than a Keriv’i.
Gabriel’s fist caught Dravka across the jaw in his flailing and Dravka responded with two more punches across his cheeks, quick and clean.
There was a strange rushing in his ears. All he could see was Valerie, pressed against a wall, her hands coming up to defend herself, her back hunching.
And I wasn’t there to protect her, he thought.
He bellowed, trying to tear that memory from his mind.
But I’m vauking here now, he finished, three more rapid punches falling across Gabriel’s face, his whole being seeming to lock in on him.
This male had hurt his mate, his female! The one he loved! He would have his vauking blood. He wouldn’t be satisfied—he wouldn’t rest—until it coated the entire path leading up to the brothel. A warning to others. To never come near his female. To never think about harming her, touching her.
No one would ever dare—
“Dravka!” came Valerie’s panicked, shaky voice, her soft hands tugging at him. “Stop, you’ll kill him!”
Clarity returned, her fear permeating the foggy haze that had descended over him with a singular purpose.
Vauk.
Vauk…because for a moment, he’d wanted to kill him.
Dravka froze, growling, his arm cocked back, angled down for another blow.
That was when he felt it.
The warm blood coating his fist. The metallic scent in the air. Valerie’s rapid breaths. Hands on him.
Hers?
Veki.
Tavak’s.
Tavak and Ravu were trying to pull Dravka off Gabriel underneath him. The human male was limp and unmoving, his face bloodied.
“Stop,” Tavak growled in his ear. “It’s done. He won’t hurt her. It’s enough.”
Dravka stumbled away from Tavak, dragging the warm night air into his tight lungs, though it didn’t seem like he could get enough.
Valerie.
He turned towards her when he felt her tentativ
e touch on his arm. His hands were covered in blood but he still cupped her face, turning it to inspect the reddened spot at her temple.
She flinched when he brushed it, a wince escaping her. That fury rose in him again. He almost swung back towards Gabriel to finish the vauking job…
Only Valerie reached up, tugging his gaze away from the human lying on the ground, Tavak hovering over him, checking for a pulse no doubt.
“Dravka, look at me,” Valerie ordered, her voice shaking. She still sounded afraid. Of him? “Dravka.”
He realized he was still growling and he made an effort to stop, though the Keriv’i in him was still thirsting for blood.
“Look at me,” Valerie whispered and Dravka focused his gaze on hers, locking eyes. “That’s it.”
Suddenly, he felt his hearts begin to slow. His pupils contracted from their dilated state, his vision darkening. His chest was bare but he felt a streak of rapidly cooling blood across it.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, her fingers digging into his cheek. “I’m okay.”
A massive breath escaped his lungs and he wrapped his arms around her. A part of him felt relieved when she returned his embrace without hesitation. A part of him had worried that the fear in her voice had been because of him, because of what she’d witnessed, that feral, violent part of him.
But he would vauking destroy anyone who sought to hurt her.
He felt the way her heart thundered against his chest. Then Tavak’s voice cut between them.
“He’s alive,” the male said. “Just unconscious. He might wake soon.”
Vauk.
Valerie pulled away and Dravka turned his gaze to the two brothers, hovering over Gabriel’s limp form. They must’ve followed after him once he’d stormed from the Cluster. Then he remembered…he’d been watching the little courtyard in front of the brothel, had seen Valerie escort Celine Larchmont away.
Then he’d watched with trepidation as a male figure had approached Valerie, who’d been alone and unprotected. His voice had been raised, booming against the walls. He’d heard ‘mother’ and knew that this was Gabriel Larchmont, the sorry excuse for a human male who dared to lay his hands on a female.