by Claire Marta
“Shall we dress her first? And release her?” Magar asks, attention averted from my nakedness.
“No.” The Russian smirks. “Morgan Steel won’t want to waste time unwrapping her and leave the restraints on, I’ve heard he likes that kind of stuff.”
As we turn to leave the short blue eyed man I had noticed before nods our way.
Magar inclines his head in greeting.
The bite of the cold night air makes me shiver as I am led across the manicured lawns down towards the white washed building. A cottage sits on the edge by the main gates. I haven’t been down here since I was a child. The last time I was there was to discover my father fucking one of his favorite whores, after beating my mother so bad she could barely walk.
In silence Briggs opens the door. Inside is sparse, but furnished enough to be comfortable.
A huge bed dominates the bedroom. It’s black silk sheets and rose petals, which have been spread in a pathway towards it, mock me when I see them. Romance is something that won’t be used tonight.
A sense of misery invades me. I’m nothing but a vessel for their bloodlines.
As an ache fills my chest I fight back tears.
“Wait outside.” Magar tells Briggs.
The second we are alone he unfastens my cuffs.
“We don’t have much time. You have to listen to me carefully.”
“I don’t understand.” Rubbing my wrists I look for something to cover my body.
“We’re going to get you out of here.” He tells me as he snatches up a robe and helps me slip it on.
“Who?”
“People who don’t want to see you mated off just to sate your father’s lust for power.”
Can I trust him? The look in his eyes is far from deceitful, but even I know the best liars are the perfect actors.
Gunfire breaks the silence.
Taking his gun from its holster Magar checks the window. “They’re coming.”
Confused I back away from the main door.
“Ava, easy it’s ok.” Pulling me into his side gently he tries to reassure me. “I know you’re frightened, but you need to trust me that this is the best thing right now. You aren’t alone. Not anymore. You have allies watching over you. Ones who wouldn’t hesitate to protect you from anyone.”
Raising my chin I stare up into his tawny gaze. His sincerity and his words drain away my tension.
Door smashing, in the thud against the wall makes me jump.
Without hesitation Magar opens fire, sending a bullet straight through Brigg’s heart.
“I never liked him anyway.” He tells me calmly as he collects his ex partner’s gun and hands me the weapon. “A one sided conversation can only stretch so far.”
Taking my arm he guides me outside.
The place is a warzone. Bodies are scattered across the blood stained grass as men continue fighting.
Hurrying towards the gates I stop dead in my tracks as I see Oscar and Sheila.
I know it can’t be real. They’re both dead. It makes me wonder if my mind has finally snapped.
Slashing his way through the guards with a sword Oscar’s cold features are splattered with red. Behind him the short man with blue eyes signals to Magar.
Before we can even move a fresh group of my father’s men swarm from the main building.
Roaring, Sheila moves to engage them with two redheaded males in tow. If I didn’t know she was a figment of my imagination, I would actually believe she was in full bloodlust mode.
“She belongs to me now!”
Swiveling I discover Morgan Steel a few feet away. A gun in his hand, it’s aimed directly at my chest.
“You never consummated that means it’s not yet legal.” Magar points out.
“That’s easily rectified.”
Steel’s gun goes off with a bang.
Reacting on instinct I push Magar to the side.
Pain sears through my shoulder as the silver projectile lodges itself in my flesh. As the cool soft grass cradles me where I fall, I hear the sound of more shots and shouting.
“Ava?” Magar’s voice is quiet as he takes my limp hand. “I’m the one supposed to be protecting you, not the other way round.”
“Is she dead?” Sheila asks as her face peers down at mine.
“No, but we have to get the silver out.” Oscar replies as he pulls out a knife. “Hold her still.”
“You’re dead.” I murmur in answer as a wave of tiredness hits me. “You’re all dead.”
Writhing as the tip of his blade not so carefully works its way into my shoulder I can’t hold back my screams. The hands holding me down become bruising as I fight.
Then just when it all becomes too much I feel darkness take me.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Damien
I’M PACING THE LARGE LIBRARY. One of the reasons I was drawn to this house was this room in particular.
It’s bright, airy, peaceful surrounded by the few books I’ve been able to store here over the years.
This will never be a home base for us. We belong in the heart of the state. However, this room has its appeal.
Michael is sitting behind the large desk, his hands are twitching. We’re both nervous.
Phillip is off in another part of the house, barking orders to everyone he can. My brother is a bossy fucker when he’s stressed.
The doors to the library bang open and one of Dominic’s messengers comes running in.
“They’re back.” He pants.
“Any casualties?”
“No, sir. A few injuries but nothing some blood and rest won’t take care of. Everyone is tired and covered in blood. But they’re safe. Your siblings have taken the girl upstairs.”
“Good. Go attend to your master.”
Michael and I rush to the stairs, Phillip meets us there. Together we head to the wing of the house Phillip and Sheila claimed.
Seeing Ava passed out on the large bed makes my heart stutter. As does the sight of my brother and sister hovering over her.
I’m pleased to see it doesn’t look like she was harmed too horribly. “Michael,” I say softly.
My brother sucks in a breath and I know whatever he’s seeing in her mind doesn’t match up to her outside.
Taking a look for myself it takes all my years of training to stay standing in the room and not race back to the city to kill the fuckers who dared to touch her.
Oscar and Phillip shift, the energy in the air changes and I know they discovered for themselves what happened in the week the princess was away from us.
In our minds she’s ours. She might not be mated into our family, yet, but she’s still ours.
“We’ll get him, brother.” Phillip promises.
“That we will.” I reply.
Stepping further in the room I turn and run my eyes over Oscar, satisfied that he isn’t hurt I turn my attention to Sheila.
Her fiery hair is tied back, tendrils of hair sticking to the blood splattered on her face. Her glacial eyes are harder than usual.
“How’d it go?”
“Fairly easy. Dominic snuck us in, Argo and his men stayed outside. Dominic had a man on the inside so it was easy to get her out.
When the fighting started it was fairly simple. Samson and Shaun had fun.”
I let out a small smile. Sheila’s brothers are just as lethal as her. I wouldn’t want to meet them in a dark alley somewhere, that’s for sure. I might be an arrogant bastard, but I’m not stupid.
“Will they be okay to stay and help us?”
“Yes. My father has things under control back home. Shane and Serg are available to us as well if we need them.”
“At the moment they’re more useful closer to Lucius. But we will need them.”
There’s a knock on the open door and the five of us turn to find Dominic and two other men with him.
One is the guard from yesterday. The other is unfamiliar, yet he has similar characteristics as the other man.
&n
bsp; “We just wanted to check on the princess. Magar here has been with her all week, doing his best to feed me the information as well as keep her safe.”
“She’s fine. Her physical injuries will heal in a few days. Her mind is a different story.” Doctor Oscar is back.
“That is understandable, with what Magar has relayed to me, I don’t know how anyone could survive it. Even the strongest of us will break under the right circumstances.”
“Yes, well she’s tough. She has to be to be apart of this family.” Sheila says.
“I suppose so.”
“If you need anything,” the new guard, Magar, I’m assuming, says.
“We can handle it, but thank you. Your support will be rewarded at the end of this.”
“How many men do you have on guard duty?” Dominic asks.
“Currently, twelve, six in and six out.” Phillip replies. “Those are just our men. Argo has his, as do Vega, Rodriguez, and Malcolm.”
“I don’t have many men with me. But I could call upon a few more to help ease the strain. I understand you’re still recruiting.”
“That would be most appreciated. I am in charge of the men, so any questions can be directed to me. Oscar is the resident medical expert. Sheila is…” Phillip trails off.
“Resident psychopath. Strategist, assassin. Take your pick.” She mumbles from where she’s burrowed against her husband’s chest.
“Michael is intelligence, with Oscar assisting.”
“And you?” Dominic asks.
“I’m everything. Protector, executioner, head of the family.” He nods as if he expected my answer.
Samson and Shaun walk into the room. “If there’s nothing else you need at the moment we are going to retire for a few hours.” Samson says.
“That’s fine, you did well, brothers.” Sheila pulls away from Phillip and turns to them.
She gasps as her gaze looks past her brothers and locks onto Magar.
She’s on him before anyone can say or do anything. With a knife that she pulled out from God knows where, she has him slammed against the wall, blade to his throat.
Dominic’s other guard motions to make a move but Samson and Shaun have him restrained.
“What the fuck? Control your woman, Phillip.” Dominic hisses.
“If you want to live, Dominic, you will never say that again.” My brother says darkly.
“What the fuck is going on?” A weak voice says from behind.
Turning I find Ava’s amber eyes trying to focus on the comotion. For a few moments I forgot where we were.
“Speak, sister,” I order.
“How are you related to Lucas?”
Magar’s eyes go wide but he doesn’t say anything.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, bitch,” he spits.
A second knife plunges into his side. “Does that jog your memory?” Sheila’s voice is dangerously low. “You look just like the fucker. If you make me ask again I’ll kill your brother over there.”
“Fuck,” Michael says. “I can’t get in, Oscar?”
“They’re as tight as the princess once was.”
Dominic shifts and Phillip and Oscar are on him in less than a second.
The sound of Dominic’s head crashing into the armoire echoes through the room.
“Who the fuck are you?” Sheila twists the knife in Magar’s side just a bit.
She missed his kidney by only an inch or two. Too much jarring and the fucker will be dead within moments.
Magar lets out a gasp and his whole body goes still. Sheila withdraws, pulling her knife out slowly and the blood flows freely from the wound.
She’s paralyzed him. She’s going to let him bleed out as she’s not allowing his body to try to naturally heal itself.
“I already know.” She whispers. There’s a tremor to her voice I’ve never heard before. “I just need confirmation.”
With easy grace she rounds on Dominic. “Does Argo know? I know you two are close.”
“He does. As does Malcolm.”
Sheila backhands Dominic, the silver knife cutting his face. “Piece of shit. You know what he did. And you’re protecting him.”
“Politics is a tricky thing, darling. You should know that, considering you’re caught up in the middle of it now.”
“I’m assuming you don’t know the full story. You weren’t around then.”
“They’re good people.” He tries to argue.
“I don’t doubt that most of them are.” She turns to Magar and the nameless guard. “Be sure to tell Lucas that Sheila Benson-Rochester is looking forward to seeing him again.”
She casts a glance at Ava. “You wanted to find your family? Well there are two Chevalier fucktards right there.
I hope you make the most of your reunion. Because anyone who stands in my way will die.”
And with that she leaves the room, Phillip hot on her heels.
Ava
Groggily I watch Sheila and Phillip storm from the room. It makes me wonder if I’m dead. Why else would I be seeing more of them?
Trying to ease up onto my elbows I whimper with pain. Everything hurts. The agony in my shoulder, though is less than before.
“Just lay still. You need blood and rest.” Oscar tells me as he pushes me back down.
Gasping at his touch, I grab his wrist. It’s solid, warm. I can feel the pulse of his heartbeat just beneath his skin.
“You’re dead. He told me...the explosion...I saw it.” My mind is a tumble with fragmented memories and nightmares. Dropping his hand as if I’ve just been burnt I scurry back against the headboard, drawing my legs up into my chest.
“We escaped.”
Eyes rounding, my attention snaps to the male standing at the end of the bed. Damien.
Large as life and just as handsome as I remember, he is watching me intently with those silvery eyes that have haunted me for the last seven days.
“It’s okay, princess, you’re safe now.” Damien’s voice is low and controlled.
Safe? I can’t stop the laughter that leaks from my throat. “You said I was under your protection. You said you would kill anyone who touched me.”
“I did.” He confirms.
He looks so cool and unaffected.
Has he seen the things that happened to me inside my head? Know what I was put through? Witnessed what Ivan did to me?
“You lying fucking bastard.” I’m across the mattress before I am even aware of moving.
Clawing wildly at his chest, I sob out all my pain and rage.
He doesn’t care.
The Rochesters are no better than my father. This bastard only wants me because of who I am.
Rescued me for their own fucking plans.
Manacling my wrists, Damien holds them tightly, but doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t even try to stop me, just uses his strength to keep me trapped while I wear myself out.
“I hate you!” The words come out in a scream.
Fingers caress my scalp and tangle in my hair as he brings my tear stained face up to his. “They will pay for everything they did to you. I will kill the Russian fucker myself.” His gaze fixated on mine I can see the truth in his words. See the rage behind his facade.
Sinking down onto the carpet I huddle beside the mattress as he lets me go. I want Ivan dead. I want to see every single man who dared put his hands on be burn.
“Ava,” Looking up, I find the short blue eyed man from my rescue standing by the door. “Magar...”
Wiping the wetness from my cheeks I see the male in question bleeding all over the floor.
“Why isn’t he moving?”
“Sheila paralyzed him.” Oscar explains as he collects an open bottle of whiskey and pours it into three glasses. “Apparently your related.”
“He saved me. I don’t want him to die.” The words come out as a whine. My voice is subdued with the emotions trying to drown me, but somehow I manage to keep them all inside.
Neither Oscar
nor Damien say a word.
“Please. You owe me something.” I tell them tightly accepting the glass Oscar hands me. Downing the liquid in one go it scalds my throat.
“Samson, Shaun can one of you release him.” Damien directs the curt request at the two red haired men standing guard.
“Sheila won’t be happy.” One of them mutters back.
“Just do it.”
Abruptly falling onto his knees as he is freed, Magar clutches his wounded side. “Bitch.”
“Watch your mouth that’s our sister you’re talking about.” Oscar snaps back as he refills my glass before doing so with his own.
“I know who she is and I know what happened before, but that was my grandfather’s doing not mine.”
“Then you better just stay out of her way.” Damien suggests.
“Chevalier...you’re a Chevalier?” Discarding my drink I wrap my arms around my knees again. It’s a position that makes me feel safe.
Magar’s tawny brown stare meets mine. “We’re your cousins. Your uncle, who was a few years older than your mother, was our father.” He gestures to his brother, who I haven’t noticed before. Seeing them side by side I can see the similarities.
Suddenly I am not sure what to say. I’ve been waiting for this moment since I was six-years-old.
In my head it was a fairytale.
My true family coming to rescue me from the monster who kept us locked away.
Yet no one had saved me.
The beast had shown me that every fantasy I’d had as a child—that I had still kept locked in my heart—was a lie.
“Why are you here now?”
I can hear the suspicion in Damien’s tone.
“When we heard someone was sniffing around for information about the family name we became curious. It wasn’t hard to find the trail that led back to you. Then we discovered Ava…” Gingerly raising his hand, Magar checks his side. The blood has stopped and the wound is healing.
“You’ve been spying on us.” Oscar growls not looking happy.
“Keeping tabs. Ava is part of our family, we aren’t going to abandon her now we’ve found her.”
“The princess is ours.” Damien corrects his expression becoming cold. “We already have plans to merge the covens so we can solidify our territory once that English bastard is dead.”