Bloody Ties

by Claire Marta

“Bonsoir,” smiling, I greet one of the servants.

  “Bonsoir Mademoiselle,” she replies, as she plays with the two little children who belong to my distant cousin.

  Cheeky smiles they wave at me with paint covered hands. “Bonsoir tante.”

  I can’t help but smile back.

  Strolling to a loveseat half hidden by a wooden screen I select a book.

  This is my favourite spot. Since arriving over a month ago it’s a place I like to come to think.

  Going unnoticed has become an art.

  Yet even in my solitude they always make me feel at home. Things are simpler here. Slower.

  France is far from all the bloodshed and death my world in New York now faces. Limousin is quiet, remote. The rural country estate is a place for relaxation for my extended Chevalier family. While the women and children are on holiday the males of the coven remain in Paris busy with work.

  Servants and trusted guards keep the place fortified, protected, and running at all times.

  Garron’s bodyguards assigned to me are always watching. Silent sentinels ever on the alert.

  Knowing they’re there to make sure I don’t leave as well as protect makes a jab of bitterness course through me as I settle down and open my book.

  I am forbidden to use the phone or internet. Totally cut off my only means of knowing what is happening in the outside world is through what these fuckers tell me, which isn’t much.

  As always the matriarch of the group doesn’t leave me sitting alone for long.

  The seat creaks under Geneva’s weight.

  “Bonsoir, Abbey.” She says my fake name with a familiar ease.

  This is our cover. They are experts at blending in. It’s why they have survived so long. Why no one has ever been able to find them. Being careful as they are is what has kept my real identity concealed, even from those they trust.

  “Bonsoir, Geneva.” I reply politely back.

  She has gone out of her way to make me feel comfortable and I can’t resent that. A part of the family the moment I stepped off the plane, not treated like the captive I am.

  With calmness she has dealt with my rages and rants at being sent here against my will, and fussed over me with a motherly compassion.

  “How are you feeling?” Her enquiry is sincere.

  “Tired...nervous...Has there been any word from New York?”

  Sighing she sits back to watch the children squealing as they race around playing tag. “Nothing from Garron in Paris, but I am sure if there was anything important he would have contact us by now.”

  I can’t stop the tears that fill my eyes. A constant ache in my chest has plagued me since leaving America.

  Damien.

  After everything between us and everything he’s put me through it didn’t stop me from losing my heart. I love him.

  Does he know about the baby yet? With no word from my fucking uncle I can only guess my husband hasn’t been told. Garron lied to me.

  I can only imagine what he will think when he is informed.

  He’ll more than likely see this as a betrayal. The one thing the Rochesters would never tolerate.

  I know leaving was done for the right reasons. I needed to keep this child from harm. Believing he is dead is something I refuse to consider, even though the silence screams the opposite.

  He would come after me. Damien always has. So where is he now? Why won’t anyone tell me?

  Leaning into the gentle arm that wraps around my shoulder I blink away the tears. “I just want to know if everyone is safe that’s all. Why can’t you tell me that? I don’t want to be here.”

  “I am sure they are.” Geneva soothes. “My Pierre has told me of the Rochesters’ reputation. If they are in a civil war this is the safest place for you and the little one you carry.”

  Her words break the dam. Sobbing into her chest I let the pent up emotions run free. This is all too much for me. Carrying a child Damien doesn’t know about. Second guessing everything and praying to God I am not wrong. That I have done the right thing.

  There’s a fear germinating within me that there’s a chance this baby could be Ivan’s. Even using protection as he did when he raped me there is only a certain percentage it was effective. I’m not sure how I would feel if he turned out to be the father.

  Watching Geneva’s happiness with her own children and mate when he comes to visit keeps shredding away at something inside me. I want what they have. Want to be happy.

  “Shhh, Av-Abbey, don’t cry.”

  It’s awkward and messy. My emotions are all over the fucking place and I have no control.

  “Sorry...I couldn’t help it.” Using the back of my sleeve I wipe the snot and the evidence of my pregnancy hormones away.

  “It’s all right, but you are burning yourself out with chaotic emotions. I understand. If I was taken far from my Pierre I would react the same way.

  But what you need to do is start focusing on the baby instead. You have not seen a doctor since you arrived and you need to be checked.” She scolds softly. “This is not good for either of you. You barely feed and you’ve lost weight, which concerns me.”

  Staring up at Geneva with waterlogged eyes I give her a watery smile. “I’ve just lost my appetite...I’ve been a bitch and taken my anger at Garron out on you which hasn’t been fair when all you’ve done is try to help.” The concern I can see on her face makes my heart ache harder.

  “You are family and we look after our own.” She tells me placing a chaste kiss on my brow. “Come on.” Taking my hand she helps me to my feet. “You will see the local doctor. I have dealt with him during my pregnancies. He is trusted and discreet.”

  ____________

  An hour later and I am clutching a photo in awe. In the grainy black and white image I can make out my daughter’s little head and feet.

  “Garron will want to know.” Geneva tells me happily as she gently guides me from the building, tucking the duplicate into her pocket. “He has a soft spot for girls. My little ones were always spoilt while he lived with us.”

  Tears sparkle distorting the image. I wish I had someone to share this with properly. Wished Damien was here. Hugging it to my chest I try to get myself under control. “I thought it might be a boy but I love that it’s a girl.”

  “You need to keep up with your feeds to make sure she will be strong.”

  I nod automatically, still stunned that now it all feels so real. A baby. I’m going to be a mother. The reality of my situation hits me hard. Now that I’ve actually seen her it makes me want to protect her even more with a fierce desire. It doesn’t matter who the father is. She is mine and I will do everything in my power to defend her.

  “You must start thinking of names.” Geneva advices lightly as her chauffeur helps us into the waiting car. “We must also plan for the birth.”

  “That’s months away...”

  And I have no idea where I will be I add silently. This is not supposed to be a permanent solution. Garron’s plan was to keep me out of harm’s way until I could go back. Giving birth in Paris is something I want to avoid. I want to be home when the baby comes.

  “Believe me it comes quicker than you think.” She continues.

  Instead of answering I turn to look out of the window as the countryside starts to passes us by.

  Months of getting bigger. My hunger getting stronger and sleepless nights worrying over things I cannot control with no one to hold me when I need it the most. I miss Damien so fucking much it hurts.

  Phillip

  One month. That’s how long it’s been since things went to shit. Since I almost lost two of my brothers. Since I lost my sister.

  The chair in the corner of Damien’s room has become familiar. We don’t trust the fucker not to do something irresponsible if left alone for too long.

  Asleep as he is, he almost looks peaceful. Almost looks innocent. I have to hold back a snort at that thought.

  “Your staring is going to give me a compl
ex.” Damien says without opening his eyes.

  “Pretty sure there’s no helping that, brother.” I answer.

  “Any news?”

  “Well, we’re still in power. Nothing too concerning. From what Serg has relayed they have most of the problems under control. It won’t be long before someone gets it in their head that we shouldn’t be in power and tries to cause trouble.”

  “We need to go back to the city.”

  “It’s not safe.”

  “Lucius is the least of my concerns right now. We need to go back, burn down Carr’s house and establish our presence.”

  “When Sheila and I were in the city a few weeks ago, it was madness. We’re not in a position to retaliate.”

  “I don’t want to retaliate. We need these people on our side. A good portion of them left. Others died. The majority are so scared we’ll just be another Carr they won’t even voice their opinion. Fuck Lucius. He hasn’t made a move toward us yet. He knows we now control half of his precious state. Most of his business. But he hasn’t acted.”

  “And why do you think that is? He’s not stupid. He’s with Abigail, probably plotting your death. I won’t risk it.”

  “I didn’t realize you were the head of this family.”

  “Until two weeks ago you couldn’t even walk without assistance. You think we’re going to thrust you into a fucking war zone?”

  He glares but doesn’t respond. “What of the Chevaliers? Does anyone have any inkling of where they may have taken my wife?”

  “Europe.” Oscar says from the doorway.

  Damien and I both watch as Oscar directs Michael to the other side of the bed. Our youngest brother has been more distant than usual. He’s always been one to prefer being alone as opposed to people.

  Normally he’d be in the corner, curled up with a book, or article, or some type of electronic device. I’ve always shrugged it off as him being twenty years younger than myself.

  Now though, after spending weeks by his bedside I see it’s something deeper than that. I hope he takes Oscar’s offer up for some therapy.

  “And how do you know that?” Damien’s voice is dark, dangerous. He may be healed but he’s still weak. Healing an injury like the one he had takes a lot out of a person.

  His hands flex, the bandage covering his hand stretches and blood seeps through. Thanks to the blast the healed skin from being skinned tore open. He’s going to have one hell of a scar.

  “Grey. He got in touch with Dominic a few days ago.”

  “And why am I just hearing about this?”

  “Because we can’t do shit about it. Dominic came to me because he wasn’t sure what else to do. Our job is to stay here, get our state under control. Kill Lucius and merge the covens into one.

  Yes, I was pissed when I discovered Dominic didn’t come to me right away. I wanted to fly there and find her. However, he didn’t say where they were. My first thought was France. They have distant relatives. But that’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.

  We don’t have the resources.

  We have to assume Garron did what he thought best at the time.”

  “Yeah well now he can bring her back.”

  “Think about it, Damien.” I say. “What if she doesn’t want to come back? The two of you weren’t really on good terms.”

  “She was learning to trust me. And then I didn’t get her out in time.”

  “You came to assist us. We were surrounded, really if Magar didn’t blow the storeroom none of us would have made it out.”

  “Still. I shouldn’t have trusted him with her. Family or not that was my mistake.”

  “She’s an adult. She can make her own decisions.” Michael argues. “It was her choice. I get shit was bad that night, hell I have a fucking reminder of how bad things were that night,” he nods to what’s left of his arm.

  Everything from the elbow down is gone. Every time I see it I wish I could go back and kill Jonathan Carr over again, even though I wasn’t the one who killed him.

  It’s his fault my brother is now missing a limb. He got off way too fucking easy.

  “Get a message to her then. Don’t tell anyone else that we’re in communication with Grey. I’m assuming you trust Dominic with this?”

  “Yes, Grey’s the one who reached out first. Between the two of us we’ll try to get as much information as we can.” Oscar hesitates a few seconds.

  “What, brother? I know you’re holding something back.”

  “I’ll get a message out. Letting her know it’s okay for her to come home. If it actually gets to her is the question.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “According to Grey, Garron has been keeping her hidden away, not even Grey knows where exactly she is.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  “Neither do I, brother. But what other choice do we have. At the moment we are not in a position to go and try to find her ourselves. Bastards are good at going underground.

  If she wants to return she will have to stand up for herself and make Garron bring her back.

  We’ll be ready for whatever situation brings that about.”

  “I hate when you’re right. Are you going to tell me what you know?”

  He seems to think on it for a few seconds before sighing. “There might be a reason Garron is hiding her away. And I think that reason is you.”

  “Me?”

  “You’re not stupid, Damien. Everyone who’s ever met you has known you never wanted to be tied down. Never wanted to start a family.”

  “Because I’m a fucking asshole. I don’t do families outside of you bastards. I never wanted to put innocents through this type of life.

  It was Ava’s choice to marry me. I allowed her to because I care for her. Strange I know, I actually seem to have a fucking heart around her.”

  “You want to know what I’m keeping from you? You just fucking said it.”

  “Shit,” it takes me less time to figure out what our vague as fuck brother is talking about than the other two.

  “You’re different.” I tell him. “When you’re around her. And if we have to spell out what the fuck is going on here then maybe we should be worried about your brain not your spine.”

  “You think I love the princess?”

  “I fell in love with my scary as fuck wife. Surely it could happen to you. If you could change your tune about that, maybe you could change it about the other thing too.”

  One second. Two. After five seconds the silver eyes staring at me change.

  “Holy shit.”

  Damien

  Well fuck.

  “You have three weeks. If you don’t find out where she is in three weeks, I will kill you for betraying me.”

  “Damien.”

  “No, Oscar. You’ve been in her head for weeks. There’s no fucking way she was able to hide the fact that she was pregnant from you. You’re too fucking thorough. I don’t care if you were trying to convey that you trusted her. Or morals. Or what the fuck ever.

  You were supposed to tell me everything that was relevant or concerning.

  And this is one of them.

  I’m giving you one more chance. Do not fuck up again.”

  Oscar nods and leaves the room.

  “What are you going to do?” Michael asks.

  “I’m going to get my wife back first of all. I’m going to try to find some fucking feeling so she believes me when I tell her I don’t care who that fucking kid belongs to.”

  “You’re talking about…”

  “Say the words and I’ll cut you.” I warn, Phillip. “That fucking animal of a man will die soon enough.”

  “You know there will be one sure way to find out.”

  “True. But even then it wouldn’t matter. The princess is our family and so her child would be too. Fuck.

  How the hell am I supposed to do this?”

  “One day at a time, brother. That’s all you can do. Take it one day at a time. First we f
ind her. Then we bring her home. And then we figure it out.”

  Michael places his hand on my shoulder.

  A baby.

  Holy shit.

  A wife and a baby.

  How quickly things change.

  And to the surprise of those closest to me—myself include—these new developments don’t bother me much at all. All I want is to find my mate and hold her.

  Maybe I do have a head injury.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Ava

  ALL THE ROCHESTERS ARE ALIVE, BUT Magar died triggering the explosion to save everyone. Garron tells me sombrely.

  It’s been almost two fucking months since I set eyes on the bastard. Staying in Paris he’s been busy running the Florida coven from there. I have no idea if it’s to stay close to me or whether he’s nervous of retaliation for taking me from the States.

  Relief sags my shoulders at the news, making me feel dizzy.

  Alive.

  They’re all alive. Magar’s lost hurts but I know it wouldn’t have been anything compared to losing Damien.

  “I want to go home.” I respond my voice shaking with emotion.

  You can go when I know it’s safe.

  Hands on hips I stare my uncle down. He may be the head of the Chevalier coven in Florida but I’m pregnant and hormonal. A combination even the toughest males fear or so I have found.

  “You can’t order me around. I’m part of the Rochester family and I want to be with my husband. It’s been two months and I refuse to remain here any further.” I snap, my voice rising in volume.

  Geneva glances our way worriedly where she’s huddled talking quietly with her husband.

  Working yourself up is not good for the baby.

  “Keeping me here when I don’t want to be is hurting us more.” I counter.

  It’s getting harder and harder to stay where I am. I need to see Damien. It’s something that is building inside me day by day. Going home is something I long for. I want to see my husband.

  He’s going to be angry, but I hope in some way he will understand.

  Ava you must be patient. Garron sighs. I have seen first hand the torture some are willing to put an enemy through.

  “Don’t even try to guilt trip me about keeping us safe. If you had your way I would never go back to America, don’t think I haven’t worked that out.”