by Mari Carr
“How could I have tried to kill him? I didn’t know he’d been using that hall.”
Charlotta snorted. “I’m sure Derrick told you. False ignorance won’t help. And where were you? You got here fast.”
“I was on the second floor.” Mateo rose once more, stepping close enough to Charlotta that he could glare down at her. “You were the first one here. Where were you?”
“On guard at the front door. I came as soon as I got the call.”
“You want revenge for that night,” Mateo said quietly. “That’s not a secret. Are you willing to kill the fleet admiral to get it?”
Charlotta turned to Derrick. “Did you tell him about the fleet admiral sneaking out that way?” She jabbed a finger at the ceiling.
Derrick hesitated. “Uh, no. Of course not. Mateo would never…”
Mateo spun on his best friend. “Derrick, what the fuck? You know you didn’t tell me.”
Derrick sputtered. “I didn’t. You’re right. I didn’t. And I know you wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t do this.” Derrick looked from Eric to Charlotta and back.
It was a weak protest.
The betrayal hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. Derrick—his best friend—thought he was the traitor.
The door opened again, and Nikolas rushed in with the bright yellow backboard under his arm, another guard at his side.
“Back up, all of you,” Nikolas ordered.
Nikolas had served during several conflicts in Bosnia and Croatia and had paramedics training. That’s why Mateo had sent him to get the medical equipment.
They carefully placed the collar around Eric’s neck. Nikolas tugged a gun holster from the back of Eric’s pants and held it up. Before Mateo could grab it, Charlotta took it. With one person holding his head steady, Nikolas placed the board against his back, strapped him in place, and rolled him face up.
Eric grunted in pain once or twice during the process, but otherwise didn’t move. Just as Nikolas finished, the door opened and Marie ushered in green-jumpsuit clad paramedics.
Charlotta stooped and plucked the gun from Eric’s hands, placing it back in the holster and hiding it and her own gun with her jacket before the medics could see. They raced over, assessed Eric, and then one went to the vehicle for additional strapping. The other started to clear away the remaining bits of broken chair.
“Who speaks Castilian?” Eric asked in that language.
Mateo jerked upon hearing his native language.
There was a chorus of “I do’s” from the Spartan Guard.
Moving only his eyes, Eric look around, assessing each of them. He shouldn’t have looked powerful—immobilized on the floor, his face creased with pain—yet the big man still looked every inch the Viking they called him. The backboard looked pathetically small, and the medics were going to need help lifting him off the floor.
“I don’t have time to deal with this. Once I’m gone, take Mateo to the dungeon. I’ll question him when I return.”
Everyone but Charlotta sucked in shocked breaths. She nodded.
The paramedics returned and, together with Nikolas and Marie, lifted the backboard, carrying Eric to the ambulance rather than using the stretcher on the bumpy stone floor of the Great Hall.
Once the doors closed behind them, there was a moment of silence.
“Don’t fight me,” Charlotta said quietly. She took Mateo’s arm, and with a little tug made him start walking.
He didn’t fight her. He was too shocked, too defeated.
He’d left the bedroom filled with hope for the future. In the course of minutes, that hope had been destroyed. His guard had turned against him. Derrick…
Mateo struggled with his best friend’s betrayal. There was no mistaking the suspicion in Derrick’s eyes, in the way he’d hesitated to defend him.
However, all of that paled when he considered Dimitri and Cecilia. Would they believe him guilty as well?
Mateo went where she steered him, down a spiral staircase, into the dungeons of Triskelion Castle.
What if they didn’t believe him?
That question—that fear—blinded him to everything else that had happened.
An hour ago, he’d been a part of a family—temporary or not.
And now, he was alone once more.
13
Dimitri stirred at the sound of a knock on the door. A quick glance told him Mateo was no longer in the bed.
He rose and threw on his jeans before walking across the room.
“Derrick?”
Derrick glanced over his shoulder and, even in the dim light, Dimitri could see the man flushing. “I need to speak to you.”
Looking over his shoulder, Dimitri realized Cecilia had awoken as well. She was sitting up, holding the quilt to cover herself.
Dimitri was a jealous man, something he’d never felt the need to temper or control. What was his was his. Cecilia fell into that category.
“Give us a moment,” Dimitri said, closing the door in the other man’s face. “Cecilia.”
She was already out of bed, throwing on the clothes Mateo had stripped off her earlier. He wasn’t sure what Derrick wanted, but he feared it had something to do with Mateo’s disappearance.
Once Cecilia was covered, Dimitri opened the door again and gestured for Derrick to enter.
The man was frazzled, upset. “I came here right after…right after…”
“After what? Spit it out, man.”
“Mateo has been accused of killing the fleet admiral. They’ve taken him to the dungeons below the castle.”
“Manon killed the fleet admiral,” Cecilia said. “We know that.”
“Not Kacper,” Derrick clarified. “Eric Ericsson. Tonight.”
Dimitri’s blood ran cold. “The fleet admiral is dead?”
Derrick ran a hand through his hair, his expression one of confusion and panic. “No. He’s still alive. Or…he was when the paramedics took him.”
“An attempt was made on the fleet admiral’s life tonight? When? How?” Dimitri asked.
“A stone was moved in a secret corridor only the fleet admiral uses, covered over with a rug. Someone set a booby trap. He fell through the roof of the Great Hall. Hit the floor. I told the other guards that it wasn’t Mateo, but they didn’t believe me.”
“Why do they think Mateo did it?” Dimitri fought hard to remain calm. He knew it was pertinent to get all the details before reacting.
“The timing. He came back, and as soon as he did, this happens. Plus, he was one of the few guards who knew the hall was there and how to access it. The fleet admiral believes… I told them it wasn’t him.”
There was something in Derrick’s demeanor that felt off to Dimitri. To the untrained eye, he appeared to be genuinely concerned for his friend, almost overly upset. Perhaps that was what bothered Dimitri. Derrick was a soldier, a well-trained Spartan Guard. Emotion had no place on the battlefield or in a situation like this.
As if that wasn’t enough, he was far too emotional for someone British.
Mateo had been accused and locked up. The situation was perilous, but certainly not at critical mass. Nothing had been done that couldn’t be undone.
Unless…
“How badly was the fleet admiral injured? Will he survive?”
Derrick nodded. “He fell from the third floor into the Great Hall. Over ten meters.”
“But he’s alive.”
“Yes,” Derrick confirmed.
Dimitri blew out a long, pained breath, considering how lucky Eric was to be alive, as Cecilia crossed herself and murmured a short prayer in Italian.
Derrick started pacing the floor. “How can they believe Mateo would do such a thing? I tried to stop them from taking him. I swear I did.”
Dimitri nearly snorted at the man’s over-the-top acting. The more he listened and looked, the more he was convinced Derrick had come here specifically to trick them.
Cecilia walked over and placed a comforting arm on Derrick
’s shoulder. “It’s okay. We’ll find a way to help Mateo.”
Her eyes locked with Dimitri’s, and when she narrowed them slightly, revealing her own suspicions, he realized their clever woman had not been fooled by Derrick’s act either.
Dimitri’s gaze landed on the whip in the corner, behind Derrick, and he spied an opportunity. Pretending to pace, he walked in the direction of the whip, drawing Derrick’s attention to it while seeming to be thinking about how they could help Mateo.
Dimitri surreptitiously watched Derrick, catching the sudden widening of the other man’s eyes when he spotted the whip. The look changed from surprise to one of genuine confusion, then concern before he shuttered away all emotion.
“Where is Eric now?”
It took Derrick a moment to respond, his concerned friend act faltering in the face of the whip. “Noble’s Hospital on the isle. He clearly needs X-rays, and we can’t risk moving him to London or Belfast until we see how badly he’s hurt.”
Derrick’s eyes darted toward the whip once more.
Dimitri put his hand on the table, fingers inches from the handle. “Do you like this? I found it.” Dimitri smiled. “In the stable of a vacation home on the east side of the castle.”
“Why were you there?” Derrick’s voice held an edge of strength…and perhaps anger. The worried friend had disappeared, the soldier in place once more.
Dimitri shrugged casually. “Just exploring.”
“This afternoon?”
“Yes.”
“Mateo wasn’t with you.”
“No,” Dimitri said. “He wasn’t. He was here in the castle, conducting his investigation alone.”
Cecilia frowned. Dimitri wasn’t exactly giving Mateo an alibi. If anything, he was telling Derrick that Mateo had the time to set up the trap if he wished. His actions were calculated. He wanted Derrick to believe that Dimitri also suspected Mateo guilty of the crime.
“Why did the two of you leave the castle without him?” Derrick asked.
“Cecilia wasn’t feeling well from the ferry ride to the isle. She needed some air.”
“That home isn’t exactly on the beaten path. How did you find it?”
Derrick’s questions were posed casually, but there was no mistaking his concern.
Dimitri smiled. “We simply got in the car and drove. That was where we wound up.”
Cecilia had been silent throughout their conversation, but her anxiety finally won out. “Can we go see Mateo?”
Derrick shook his head. “I don’t think that will be possible. Charlotta has taken charge of the situation and she’s…well…given her history with Mateo, she is in no mood to be merciful.”
“History?” Cecilia inquired.
Dimitri could almost imagine he saw delight on Derrick’s face that Cecilia had taken the bait, though he tried to hide it. “They were lovers.”
Dimitri had to hand it to her. Cecilia had a better poker face than Derrick.
She simply nodded. “I see. Thank you for coming to tell us, Derrick.”
He nodded at her dismissal, though it was apparent he wanted to stay. The man had more questions for them. Dimitri appreciated the way Cecilia removed that option by walking to the bedroom door. “I hope you’ll let us know if anything else happens or changes.”
“Of course.” Derrick left the room slowly, reluctantly.
Cecilia closed the door behind him and leaned on it, the strength she’d maintained in front of Derrick seeping out. Her shoulders fell and her face crumbled.
“What are we going to do? It wasn’t Mateo, Dimitri. You must know that.”
Dimitri walked over, hating to see her upset. “Do you trust me, Cece?”
She nodded without hesitation. “Of course I do.”
His heart felt as if it might burst with joy. An unfamiliar, yet wonderful feeling for him.
“I have a few things I need to do. It could take some time. I need you to pack up all of our things and wait here for me. Will you do that?”
“I want to come with you.”
He’d expected that response. “I know. But you have to trust me when I say you can’t. Not this time.”
Dimitri anticipated her continued insistence, so he was surprised when she relented easily.
“Are you going to help Mateo?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. I’ll pack and wait here.”
“Lock the door behind me. Don’t open it for anyone.” Dimitri gave her a hard, quick kiss, praying he’d be able to pull off what he had planned. For her sake…and his.
* * *
Cecilia had packed their bags in record time even though Dimitri had warned her that he could be gone a while. He hadn’t lied. Nearly three hours had passed, and she was about to come out of her skin.
After setting their suitcases by the door, she’d stripped the sheets, then cleaned the room and the bathroom, and still Dimitri hadn’t returned.
The screen on her phone lit up. It was James. Again.
She’d turned the ringer on her cell off after his third call because she was afraid of what he might say or ask.
Until she knew what Dimitri had planned in terms of helping Mateo, it was best that she avoid speaking to the husband of the admiral of England. Even if he was her cousin and one of her closest friends.
Too nervous to sit still, she rose from the bed, pacing the length of the room until she stood in front of the whip. She hated the wicked-looking thing. Dimitri said it was a toy, but to her, it looked like a weapon.
With that thought in mind, she picked it up, spinning around to face the large, sparsely decorated room. Flicking it lightly a few times, she was surprised by the weight of it. She tried to recall the way Dimitri had wielded it, the way he’d flicked his arm and wrist to produce the powerful swing and loud crack.
She swung it several times, increasing the speed and motion each time until she managed a weak snapping sound. As she did so, she considered the way the whip made her feel.
In the tack room, she’d felt fear in the face of being struck by it, but holding it, swinging it, put an entirely different perspective on it.
She felt…powerful. She wasn’t physically weak, but she couldn’t manhandle her lovers, control them, the way they controlled her. With this whip in her hand, they’d do what she wanted.
She flicked the whip again, thinking about those lion tamers who stood, soft and defenseless, in the ring with lions, a whip their only means of command, the creature far stronger and more dangerous than they were.
With the whip, it was she who could command and control her lions. It was a heady feeling, more arousing than her lovers would be comfortable knowing.
That thought made her smile.
After several more attempts at producing a satisfying crack, Cecilia’s arm began to ache. She was just about to place the whip on the bed when the door to the room flew open.
She spun around, arm thrown back, ready to bring the whip down to defend herself.
Dimitri pulled up short, his hands flying up protectively. “Easy, koxaha. It’s just us.”
“Us?”
Mateo stepped around Dimitri, his eyes widening when he saw the whip in her raised hand. “Válgame Dios!”
Cecilia dropped the whip and raced across the room, throwing herself into Mateo’s arms. “They freed you! I knew they’d come to their senses. See that you were innocent.”
Mateo gave her a quick squeeze, then disengaged himself from her arms. “No, Cece. Not exactly.”
She looked from him to Dimitri. “What did you do?”
“Did you pack?” he asked, ignoring her question.
She nodded.
“Good. There’s no time to explain now. We need to leave the castle immediately.” Dimitri picked up their bags, gesturing to the whip on the floor. “Pick up that whip. Hold on to it. Don’t be afraid to swing it if necessary.”
His words felt like a joke and she was tempted to laugh. It died, however, when she saw the serious
ness on his face.
So the toy had become a weapon. She tightened her grip as they stepped into the hallway. The stealthy, wary way Mateo and Dimitri walked through the corridors, taking turns to check around corners, answered her question easily enough.
Somehow Dimitri had helped Mateo escape, and now they needed to flee before someone sounded the alarm.
Fortunately, Mateo knew the castle, the grounds, the placement and schedules of the guards better than anyone.
“We just ran through the emergency protocols when Kacper was killed. The guards will no doubt have moved away from our regular nightly detail to the low-personnel emergency protocol since several of them traveled to the hospital with Eric.”
Cecilia wondered if his quiet words were meant to keep her calm or a way for him to think through each of their moves.
“And Marie is…indisposed,” Dimitri said.
Cecilia flashed Dimitri an accusing look. “Did you hit a woman?”
Dimitri rolled his eyes, then lifted his shirt to reveal a boot-sized bruise on his left side that had to have cracked a few ribs.
Cecilia gasped.
“I wouldn’t call Marie a woman. Ninja is a more fitting term.”
Mateo grinned. “I taught her that move.”
Cecilia shook her head. “I think it’s sweet how proud you are of that, considering she used the move attempting to keep you locked away for a crime you didn’t commit.”
Mateo pulled up short just as they reached the back door. Cecilia thought he was pausing to take stock before they moved outside. Then she realized he was looking at her.
“What?” she whispered.
“That’s twice you’ve mentioned my innocence. You truly believe—”
She cut him off with a quick kiss. “Never doubt that,” she said when they parted.
Mateo smiled, then looked at Dimitri. “What you did in that dungeon—”
“Save it, Mateo. Until later. This isn’t the time.”
Dimitri’s reminder was all he needed. The Spartan Guard reappeared. Mateo lifted one finger as he slowly opened the door an inch or two, peering outside.
He closed it once more, satisfaction on his face. “It’s just as I thought. The east gate has been left unguarded. It’s little more than a path that leads directly to the cliffs that overlook the coast. Due to lack of use, vines have grown over it, concealing it. Typically, there is a guard stationed here, but because very few people know of its existence anymore, it’s considered the least threat in times of true emergency, so we move our guards to more key positions.”