by Dannika Dark
Ella’s stomach knotted when James took her bag upstairs, making this less like a visit and more like a permanent situation.
The reality was beginning to sink in. At first Ella had thought she could endure a loveless marriage. People arranged them all the time, and maybe Boris would eventually get sick of her and she’d be able to leave. During the drive over, she’d spent time daydreaming about the different ways to grate on a man’s nerves.
Boris and Hannah were engrossed in a serious conversation, and she couldn’t understand much of it since Hannah was doing most of the talking and kept her back to Ella. They lingered in a dark hallway, the wood floors looking like something you’d see in a hundred-year-old sawmill. She gazed upon the pea-green walls, spooked by the oval mirrors perfectly lined up along one of the walls like a fairy-tale nightmare—one from which she might never awaken. On one end of the hall was an elevator and on the other was a staircase. Rooms branched off from the hall, some with the door open; others had no door.
Ella didn’t like the glint in Boris’s eye each time he gazed upon her while he and Hannah spoke. There was something about his fixed stare that sent chills up her spine—a familiarity that shouldn’t have been there.
Was it too late to run? Her heart sank when she considered what that would lead to. The Mageri would put a bounty on her head and deem her an outlaw—wanted dead or alive.
What have I gotten myself into? she thought privately. Her Creator had absolute control of her. Some of these immortals frightened her, and their laws were not as compassionate or lenient as in the human world.
Ella drifted to the side of the hall by the mirrors and leaned against the wall, trying to read Boris’s lips.
“You’re being unreasonable,” he said. “But when have you ever—”
Hannah cut him off, but Ella couldn’t see enough of her face to make out what she was saying. What she could see was Boris clenching his fist behind his back and mashing the toe of his shoe against the floor as if he were putting out a cigarette. Yet he was doing a marvelous job at pacifying Hannah and not tipping off how upset he really was by keeping his expression pleasant.
“You are a Councilwoman. Can you not officiate?” he asked. “Must there be a second witness? Perhaps an exception can be made in this instance. We can sign papers and give them to the Council if they want something for their records.”
Hannah turned, pinching her chin as she looked at Ella.
“Think about it, Hannah,” he continued, his shoulders more relaxed and his palms up. “I can give her so much more than someone in your position. You’ll no longer need to hide her away or worry what others will think. What a burden it must have been for you. A woman like you doesn’t have the time to devote to such cases. I have several Learners under my roof, and she’ll be in good company. This is an agreement we will mutually benefit from. If you back away from our contract, I promise it will be a decision you’ll regret.”
Ella swallowed hard as Hannah’s gaze shifted to the floor. “You’ll not discard her as you have with your other mates.” She snapped her eyes up at him. “And don’t deny it, because the rumors precede you.”
Boris smiled. “This one is different. She’s younger, and the young ones are so eager to please. She would decorate my arm splendidly at parties, and I have every desire to treat her with the utmost respect. After all, she is your progeny, and that makes her resplendent.”
Hannah lifted her chin. “Very well. But I will require that you continue her training so she can learn how to protect herself.”
Boris cocked his head to the side. “Speaking of… What is your relationship with Simon Hunt? Is he someone of value?”
Her chest rocked as if she huffed out a laugh or a snort. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve hired him to oversee her training, but I’m not happy with the danger he’s placed her in for the sake of a lesson.”
His lips eased into a grin. “Mr. Hunt’s services will not be needed once she’s in my care. Put your worries to bed, Hannah. I will give her a life she deserves. Otherwise, she will be your problem for all eternity.”
Hannah smoothed out the wrinkles in her shirt. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Wait,” he said, holding up one finger. “If you’ll indulge me, I’d like to provide her with the appropriate attire.”
Hannah’s wolfish brows touched her hairline. “Oh? And since when does a bonding ceremony involve anything special?”
Boris ran his finger across his skinny little mustache. “Call me an old-fashioned man, but I do enjoy the formalities. This one is fresh from the human world and no doubt has all the fantasies of rose petals and ceremony. Nothing would please me more than to see her wrapped up in a pristine white gown.”
Ella felt nauseous, backing up against the wall and pressing her palms against it.
James reappeared at the end of the hall to her left, lingering at the bottom of the staircase. When Boris looked at him and nodded, James smiled and ascended the stairs slowly, looking over his shoulder and winking at Ella.
Her mind raced. I can’t do this. Not if I have to live with James. What if he made advances toward her? What if he used their past to blackmail her? What if she killed him in his sleep and wound up in Breed jail?
Hannah approached Ella and gripped her arms. “This is the best decision I could hope for. You’ll get the attention you need, and I’ll have my life back. I trust Boris, and he’ll keep you safe.”
Ella swung her eyes over to Boris, who smiled surreptitiously and turned his gaze away.
“I can’t keep worrying about you sneaking out or running off, and he has plenty of Learners to keep you in line. Some choices in life aren’t easy, but they’re the ones that will lead you to a better life. I’m certain you understand what I’m saying. I think we’re pretty clear on that, aren’t we?”
Ella nodded.
“Poor thing,” Hannah said. “You’ll always be weak.”
Ella wasn’t sure if Hannah had said that last part aloud or simply mouthed it. It didn’t matter if Boris had heard her. Ella had, and it made her spitting mad. So much so that her energy accidentally flared and made Hannah step back.
“You’ll have a time dealing with her temper,” Hannah said to Boris. “She’s governed by her emotions.”
Boris folded his arms. “How unusual. We all know how you drill every last emotion out of your progeny.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t provoke me, Boris. I brought you into this world, and I can take you out.”
He nodded respectfully. “Of that I have no doubt. Let’s not quarrel on this merry occasion.”
When James descended a grand wooden staircase, Ella nearly fainted. Her knees weakened, and she felt Hannah catch her arm.
James approached with a slow stride, a wide grin, and a long wedding gown draped over his right arm.
Simon was covered in blood and filth. Justus wasn’t about to let him dirty up the seats of his Aston Martin, so he made Simon strip out of his shredded, bloody leathers before draping a quilt over the passenger seat. Page’s quilt. One that was soon going to find a home in the nearest garbage can. When Justus reached the first place of business, he pulled over and made Simon get out of the car.
Simon walked into a gas station—naked—to wash himself off in the restroom. After blow-drying his crotch beneath the air blower, he nonchalantly strolled back to Justus’s car, regretting he didn’t have his wallet with him to buy the chocolate cupcakes by the counter. Much to Justus’s dismay, Simon removed the nasty blanket and sat his bare ass on the leather seat.
He was relieved when they reached the Red Door because he had a pair of extra jeans in the backseat of his car. They were raggedy with holes, but he usually kept spare trousers in each car. Justus grumbled a few obscenities before speeding off, probably in search of an expert who could replace the entire passenger seat.
Simon hit the gas, the tires screeching on his black muscle car as he spun onto the street and took off. Someone
had to warn Ella before it was too late. Hannah was going to keep her in the dark about her intentions, and Simon was going to give her a piece of his mind. Technically, she wasn’t breaking any laws since Creators had dominion over their progeny, but Simon was baffled by her erratic behavior. Hannah was a black widow, and it was out of character for her to marry off her Learner to a man.
The guards let him in, as expected, and he parked at the front door. One guard practically wrestled him for his keys until Simon told him to sod off. A light breeze chilled his nipples as he approached the front door, and he couldn’t help but notice that Hannah’s car was gone. Instead of knocking, he opened the door and went inside.
Many ancients didn’t lock their doors because they felt their guards were security enough. It made Simon itch due to his own obsession with security, secret passages, and backing up data. Nothing was safe.
A pebble unstuck from the bottom of his foot as he padded through the dim room toward the study on the right. Anyone with a home this big always had one room that was off-limits to staff, where they did most of their business—a room where secrets were kept.
He opened the door, flipped on the light, and strode across the white carpet toward the red velvet chairs straight ahead. After he rounded the desk, he rummaged through her unlocked drawers but found nothing of interest. Appointment books for Mageri business, a contact list, notes written in an old language, and a container filled with hairpins. Simon placed his palms on the flat of her desk and leaned forward, looking about the room.
“What are you hiding?” he said, keeping his voice low. “All women are hiding something.”
“Sir, you can’t be in here.” A woman poked her head through the open door.
He stood up straight and circled around the desk. “Where is your mistress?”
She touched her curly hair, her voice quavering. “She’s gone out. You shouldn’t be in here. I could get in trouble.”
“I have permission,” he said with full authority in his voice. “I expected she would be here by now, but you know how Hannah likes to keep a man waiting. You may go. Unless you’d like to stay,” he suggested in a cheeky voice.
When he winked, her cheeks bloomed red and she quickly shut the door. Servants in Hannah’s house were meek things who were afraid to upset the lady of the manor. They didn’t want to get in trouble, so if you threw your weight around and sounded convincing, they usually obeyed. Being a servant himself at one time had taught him all about the mindset.
His eyes centered on the bookshelf to his left. He strolled toward it, familiar titles coming into focus.
“Now why would a woman who can’t speak English have so many books written in that language?”
He ran his finger over the pristine spines until he reached one book that stuck out like a bleeding thumb. It had a weathered spine and looked like something that had been around for centuries.
Simon pulled the heavy book out of its home and strolled back to the desk, setting it down and listening to the leather crack as he opened it up. The first page had a small tree enclosed in a square. The first few pages were names, dates of birth, and dates of death. He skimmed a couple of pages and noticed Hannah’s name written at the top next to someone else—this one having a date of death. The line below branched to two male names with dates of birth and deaths.
Simon cursed under his breath, realizing what he was looking at.
It had always been mandatory to cut ties with their human life, even before the Mageri came into being. And Creators certainly never brought over anyone with a family and children.
One of the boys didn’t have kids below his name, but the other did. Simon turned the page and followed the line through the years. She must have struggled with tracking it since some of the boxes were crunched in to fit on the page. But eventually, the genetic line thinned. As he slipped into the twentieth century, photographs were included. The earlier ones were yellow and faded. Next to them, she had scribbled notes in what looked like a Germanic language he wasn’t familiar with.
In places where a line ended, the dates of death were harshly written in, as if the pen had been pressed angrily to the page in protest.
He turned the pages until he stopped at a familiar girl with ginger hair. On the right page was a young boy who must have been Ella’s brother, thus leaving Ella as the only surviving descendant of Hannah Freund.
“Bloody hell,” he whispered, completely gobsmacked. “So this is what it’s about. Protecting her DNA.”
The following pages were blank, so he lifted the back of the book to close it. When the pages flopped over, he glimpsed something scribbled in the back. Simon quickly turned the pages to see what it was.
He recognized many of the names of Hannah’s progeny—some alive and others dead.
His eyes skimmed down the list, noticing Ella at the bottom. But when his gaze traveled back up, he almost missed a name that made his heart stop.
“Boris,” he whispered. Simon’s energy flared with anger, funneling into a dangerous vortex.
Boris didn’t share the same surname as Hannah because he was a Creator, so he’d kept his own. Simon had always wondered in the back of his mind about Boris. Creators were egotistical about passing along their surname to their progeny, and if Boris Dmitry was his real name, then why had he once had a thick German accent? Now it was obvious that Boris and Hannah came from the same country, but for reasons unknown, he had changed his name and tried to bury his accent.
“M’lady, I tried to warn him,” the maid said from behind.
“Who gave you permission to be in here?” Hannah snapped.
Simon slowly turned. “You did. The minute you sold your Learner off to the man who just tried to kill me.”
Her brows knitted. “What business is it of yours what I do with my progeny? I could have you arrested for breaking into my house.”
“Breaking in requires picking a lock or busting out a window. Thanks to your inept security, I simply walked through the front door and made myself comfortable.” He stepped to the side. “I kept myself entertained with a book.”
Her gaze settled on the desk. “How dare you,” she hissed.
Simon closed the distance between them, his energy flaring. “No. How dare you. You have all the evidence you need sitting right under your nose and you still haven’t figured it out.”
Hannah jerked her head back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Simon scowled. “Do you realize what you just did? Why Boris… of all people?”
“He’s my progeny. I trust no one else.”
“Have you done nothing to piss him off over the past few hundred years? Think about it, Hannah. Secrets never stay hidden for long. I’ve figured it out; why haven’t you? It didn’t click until I saw his name in your book as your progeny. Don’t you watch the telly? All the brutal crimes on those detective shows are rarely committed by strangers but rather by someone with a personal connection. Who do you think murdered Ella’s family? That’s right. The same man who sent his Learners to follow us and even try to take her out. Why do you think a man like him is so eager to bond with your deaf and socially awkward progeny?”
She clutched her necklace, Simon just a breath away.
He peeled back his lips and leaned in. “You just consorted with the devil himself by giving away your lastborn relative to the very man who would see her dead.”
Hannah blanched. “Preposterous. How could you know—”
“I’m a strategist, remember? I didn’t earn that title for no reason. Do you think puzzle pieces come with written instructions on how they fit together? Sometimes you have to turn them in circles until you can see them in a new light. Why do you think he’s so willing to take her off your hands?”
“Then why wouldn’t he have just killed her?”
Simon slammed the palm of his hand against the door behind her until it shut. “He couldn’t get to her with me in the picture. Besides, if you waited a lifetime to
exact revenge, would you do it hastily or would you plan it out to savor every glorious minute?”
“I never told him about Ella,” she protested. “He couldn’t have known.”
“And how careful were you when chasing down your descendants with a camera? Do you think someone wouldn’t have noticed your sporadic travels? I don’t care how he found out, but he knows. Who else would have slaughtered her family?”
Rage pulsed in her eyes as she looked away and struggled to find the hole in her plan where it all went wrong.
“Yes, Hannah, he’s not only the one who killed her family, but he left her in the condition you found her. Don’t you think it was rather obvious that he chose the last female descendent and left her alive with no potential of having children? I bet that was a slap in the face.”
Hannah stalked toward the desk and leaned forward, staring down at the pages. “He couldn’t have known what I did to them.”
Simon shook his head. “I don’t give a damn what history you have with Boris and what set this off, but it’s time for you to start looking at the damage you caused. We all make enemies, and sometimes they’re the very people we trust, but your ego is what brought you to ruin. Had you just left them alone to live their lives—”
“Enough!” she roared, slamming her fists on the desk.
Simon gripped the doorknob, ready to tear the world apart. “While you weep for the past, I’ll be saving your Learner from the hands of death.”
“Wait!”
He glanced over his shoulder as she crossed the room.
Hannah narrowed her blue eyes at him. “I’m going with you.”