Ariana frowned. “I fear you and Lucas will never be safe. I saw what happened today in the courtyard and the dungeons.”
“The dungeons? What happened there?”
“I only saw the aftermath, and I was so shocked, I didn’t stay long.” Ariana grimaced. “While the second assassin was being chased down, the third one slipped into the dungeon to murder the first one. And he killed the two jailers who were there.”
Three murders? Luciana made the sign of the moons, then fisted her hands. No wonder Leo had insisted she be brought back to the tower immediately.
“The Lord Protector is trying very hard to keep you safe,” Ariana continued. “I like him.”
“You do?”
Ariana nodded, her eyes softening. “I believe you like him, too.”
Luciana’s cheeks flared with heat.
Ariana chuckled. “You remind me of your father. He loved me, even though there were terrible rumors about me and my family.”
“Really?” Luciana sat on the bed. “Can you tell me how you met?”
Ariana moved to the window to gaze at the Southern Sea. “I came from a village along the coast. I never knew my father. My mother and grandmother were feared by all the local people, who called them witches.” She smiled sadly. “In truth, they were great healers and people thronged to them when they were sick. But when they were healthy…”
“They spread rumors about them?” Luciana asked.
Ariana nodded. “My grandmother was famous for being able to predict the future, and that frightened people.”
Luciana’s gaze wandered to the Telling Stones on the table. “Your grandmother could predict the future?”
“Yes. I inherited the sight, too, but to a lesser degree. Tatiana never seemed to have it at all.” Ariana gave her a curious look. “Are you able to see the future?”
“Maybe, a little.” Luciana explained about the Telling Stones. “And it happened just like I said. Two weeks later, I met a tall and handsome stranger with red hair and a black horse.”
“Interesting.” Her mother glided to the table and ran her hand over the stones, her fingers passing through them. “Have you seen anything else?”
“No, but I haven’t really tried.” Luciana wondered if the predictions she’d given her sisters would also come true.
Ariana sighed. “I never saw my own demise, but there were a few things I knew for certain. I knew I would give birth to twins, both girls. We didn’t need to be psychic to know how dangerous that was, but it gave us time to prepare for your safety. And I knew, somehow, that this room was important. I assumed it meant I would give birth here, so I had the room furnished. But I never realized…” Her voice trailed off as she gazed at the scorched wall across from the window.
A chill ran down Luciana’s back. “What…?”
“I think I understand why it happened now,” Ariana whispered.
“What happened?”
Ariana turned and gave her a sad smile. “You wanted to know how I met your father?” When Luciana nodded, she continued, “When Lucas asked the king for permission to wed, the king insisted he marry me. He probably thought Lucas would be afraid to touch a notorious witch like me, and then there would be no heirs. But Lucas didn’t let the rumors stop him. He treated me with respect and kindness, and before long we were madly in love.”
Luciana smiled. “That’s beautiful.”
Ariana gave her a wry look. “That’s why you remind me of your father. You’re not letting rumors about the Beast stop you from falling in love.”
Luciana’s cheeks heated up once again.
Tatiana suddenly appeared. “I found out what happened—oh, hello, Mama. I-I know what happened in the dungeons.”
“I’ve already told your sister.” Ariana gave Tatiana a stern look. “I heard Captain Bougaire’s ghost was saying foul things about you in the catacombs before he left.”
Tatiana winced and hung her head.
Ariana crossed her arms, frowning. “I warned you about him. You should have listened.”
“Yes, Mama.” Tatiana glanced sidelong at Luciana. “So you two are talking now?”
Luciana nodded.
Tatiana bit her lip. “I said some things I shouldn’t have.”
“You were upset about being dead,” Luciana told her softly as more tears gathered in her eyes. “But we’re all together now.”
Tatiana gave her a teary smile and nodded.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Ana?” Leo called.
Luciana’s breath caught, and she quickly wiped her face dry. “Yes?”
“May I see you?” Leo asked.
Tatiana glared at the door as she floated away from it. “Why is the Beast here? He’s spoiling our family reunion.”
“He’s going to be family,” Ariana said with a smile.
“Ha!” Tatiana crossed her arms. “He can’t be trusted.”
Luciana ran to the door, unlocked it, and cracked it open. Her heart leaped at the sight of Leo. She hadn’t seen him since her shouted defense of him in the courtyard. He must have just bathed, for his red hair was damp and curling around his ears. His breeches and shirt were clean and smelled of soap and fresh ocean breezes. The wolfish hunger was gone from his eyes, replaced by a gentle, friendly look. Was the Beast pretending to be a sheep? Even if he was trying to make her feel more comfortable, she could still sense the heat of his desire, simmering just below the surface. Ready to boil over at any moment.
She had a strange and sudden desire to be singed.
He smiled and lifted a basket for her to see. “I realized I hadn’t eaten since that wonderful breakfast you packed for me, and I thought perhaps you hadn’t eaten, either. So how about having luncheon with me?”
Her pulse raced even faster. “All right.” She opened the door, and he strode inside.
“It’s chilly in here. Shall I start a fire for you?”
“I-I think it will warm up soon.” Luciana glanced at her mother and sister.
“I’ll leave you two alone.” Ariana smiled, then vanished.
“Well, I’m not leaving,” Tatiana announced, her hands planted on her hips. “I don’t trust him. And I want to know the truth about him killing Alberto!”
Chapter Twenty-one
She looked like she’d been crying. Leo fought an urge to pull her into his arms, but he couldn’t risk shocking her with lightning power. As he set the basket on the table, he wondered what had upset her.
No doubt the assassination attempt had frightened her. And she could be unnerved by something he didn’t know about. She had so many damned secrets. Was she even who she claimed to be?
Not that her true identity mattered that much to him. Whoever she was, he wanted her. He’d lusted for her from the beginning, but now that she’d taken a stand for him, yelling to the crowd that he wasn’t a Beast, he ached to claim her as his own.
He glanced at her, and a pang shot through his chest. It wasn’t just her body he wanted. He wanted her heart. Wanted to know her thoughts, her secrets. And that meant he needed her trust.
As he placed a bottle of wine and two wooden cups on the table, he noticed the three stones resting there. Two were painted with colors, red and black, and one had some sort of figure—an upside-down number two?
Were these the pebbles he’d seen in the bottle she used for her secret messages? He reached out a gloved hand to turn the third pebble around. Definitely a number two. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Oh. It’s … nothing.” The sudden paleness of her face belied her words. “Thank you for bringing all this food.” She quickly finished emptying the basket. “I was starving.”
She was changing the subject. Leo opened the bottle and poured wine into the cups while she set out the rest of their luncheon. There was a round wooden platter of sliced cheese, cold ham, and grapes. Wrapped in a linen cloth was a hot loaf of bread. She set a crock of butter beside it along with a small knife.
When
he offered her a cup, she didn’t notice. Her gaze had turned toward the window, and she was frowning. “Ana?”
She jumped. “Oh, thank you.” She accepted the cup.
He lifted his own cup and touched it against hers. “To us.”
She smiled shyly, her cheeks blooming a pretty pink.
“May we have a long, happy life together,” he continued, “trusting each other in all manner of things.”
Her hand trembled slightly.
He drank from his cup, watching her. She took a sip, then her gaze shifted once more to the window.
“There’s a definite chill coming in.” He refilled his cup. “We could have curtains installed.”
“It’s fine as it is.” With a hesitant smile, she sat at the table.
He glanced at the window once more. There was no discernible breeze, and no reason why a summer afternoon in southern Vindalyn would produce such a chill. Unless … the chill was caused by something else. Or someone else. Damn.
When he’d knocked on the door, he’d heard her inside, talking to someone. Was there a ghost here bothering her?
He didn’t know how well he could protect her from a spirit, but it prompted him to move his chair close to her. She stiffened slightly. “Do I make you nervous?”
“No, not at all.” She grabbed the loaf of bread, tore off a piece, and slathered it with butter.
She wasn’t a very good liar. He sat beside her. “The assassination attempt must have frightened you.”
She paused a moment, then shot him an annoyed look. “Do you know what frightened me the most? Seeing you flying through the air, hanging on a rope, and falling down the side of the keep. You could have broken your neck! Next time, take the stairs!”
He blinked in surprise, then rested an elbow on the table, grinning. “You were worried about me?”
She scoffed, then stuffed the buttered hunk of bread into his mouth.
“Careful,” he mumbled, leaning back. He bit off a small piece, then removed the bread with a gloved hand. “I appreciate that you no longer see me as a Beast, but I’m still too dangerous for you to touch.”
“I know,” she muttered as she ripped another hunk of bread off the loaf.
Was she upset that they couldn’t touch? Did he dare hope that she wanted him? “Ana.”
She glanced up at him, and her eyes widened, locked with his for a tense moment. By the Light, he wanted her. His gaze drifted down to her mouth. If only he could kiss her.
He held his piece of bread up to her mouth, nudging it against her rosy pink lips. Her mouth opened, accepting it. When she bit down, he leaned forward to bite off the other end. Their eyes met.
So close, but still impossible. Even so, his groin swelled and began to harden. Not now, he mentally warned himself, as if his cock ever listened. Damn, if he was ever able to kiss her, it would nearly kill him.
He leaned back, leaving the bread in her mouth.
She took a bite and set the bread on the table in front of him. With a slight wince, she glanced toward the window.
A chill skittered down Leo’s spine. Had their ghostly guest disapproved?
Her gaze drifted toward the bed.
Was the ghost moving? He wanted to ask her, but figured she’d clam up if he pushed too hard. Maybe if he started with something small. He motioned to the pebbles. “Why are they painted? Do the colors mean something?”
“They’re not important.” She busied herself buttering a second piece of bread.
“They’re important enough that you keep them.”
She shrugged. “They mean whatever you want them to mean. It’s nothing but a silly game.”
His mouth twitched. “A game of stones?”
She set the knife down and gave the pebbles a wistful look. “They’re called Telling Stones. It’s a game to predict the future. I learned how to do it when I was on the Isle of Moon.”
“When you were recovering from being poisoned?”
A muscle in her jaw quivered. “I thought you were hungry.” She moved the platter closer to him and selected a slice of cheese for herself.
While she ate, he gathered up the stones in his gloved hand. “Red, black, and the number two. What future did these foretell?”
She swallowed. “It was simply a game to keep us entertained.”
His fist closed around the pebbles. “Then there’s no harm in telling me.”
She studied his face for a moment, then nodded slowly. “All right, then. When I drew those three stones, I said in two weeks I would meet a tall and handsome stranger with red hair and a black horse.”
Damn. He set the stones down, gazing at them in wonder. “They told the truth.”
She gave him a dubious look. “Only if I actually consider you tall and handsome.”
He arched a brow at her.
Her mouth twitched as she plucked a grape off the platter. “Well, you are tall.”
“You think I’m handsome.”
“Do I?” She popped the grape in her mouth.
“Yes, you do. You were staring at me the first time we saw each other.”
“I was staring because the prediction had come true.”
“Ah. So you do think me tall and handsome.”
“I don’t think it.” She picked up another piece of cheese. “I know it.”
He grinned. “I knew you were exceptionally intelligent.” She smiled back, and he ran his fingers over the three stones. “It seems like a fun game. May I have a turn?”
She nodded as she ate.
He pointed at each stone in turn. “A beautiful woman with black hair will meet a man with red hair—make that a tall and handsome man with red hair.”
When she snorted, he picked up the stone with the number two. “This means the two will become one.” He set it down and looked at her. “Is that a future you can accept?”
Her cheeks grew pink, and she fiddled with her cup of wine. “I—perhaps.” She winced as she glanced toward the bed.
“Something wrong?”
“No.” She took a drink of wine.
“You were hoping I could bed you now?”
She sputtered, her eyes watering as she coughed.
He hesitated, wondering if it was safe to pat her on the back. With her gown and his gloves, there were two layers of insulation. Tentatively, he touched her. Her coughing continued unabated. No shock, then.
He patted her.
“I’m all right.” She wiped her eyes.
He let his hand rest on her back.
She drew a deep breath. “I could use more wine.”
“Of course.” He stood to grab the wine bottle from across the table, then sat again to refill their cups. “Ana, I need you to be extra careful until we catch the third assassin.”
“Do you have any idea who he is?”
“I’m having someone watched.” Leo suspected Father Rune, but it would be hard to prove at this point. They knew the assassin was wounded, but the young priest had a nasty habit of inflicting wounds on himself. “Whoever he is, he’s extremely dangerous. He broke into the dungeons and killed the first assassin and the two jailers there.”
She nodded, and he realized she wasn’t surprised by the news.
“You already knew?”
“I … heard.” Her gaze shifted toward the bed. “Were there any clues left behind? Can you do like before and use your dog to track down the killer?”
“You mean Brody? He-he’s on another mission right now.”
Her eyes widened. “You send your dog on missions?”
Leo winced inwardly and decided to change the subject. “Your father is arranging the funeral for this afternoon. It should be happening soon, but I would prefer that you not attend. It will be hard enough to keep your father safe. We’ll have to keep him surrounded and insist he wear a helmet.”
“I understand.”
“How do you conduct your funerals here at Vindemar?”
A look of alarm glinted in her eyes. “Oh, th-t
he usual way.” Her gaze darted toward the bed, and she quietly fiddled with the grapes before turning to him. “The dead are burned on pyres along the cliffs overlooking the sea, then the bones are interred in the catacombs.”
That wasn’t the usual way for the rest of Eberon. Leo had a strange feeling that she’d just repeated the answer word for word.
Her gaze shot toward the bed once more. “It’s a shame no one can talk to the ghosts of the dead jailers. The ghosts would know the identity of the man who killed them.”
“An interesting strategy,” Leo murmured. But for whom was she suggesting it?
Her jaw shifted as if she was annoyed by something, then she turned toward him. “I have a question for you.”
“Go ahead.”
Her eyes narrowed as she watched him closely. “Did you have Captain Bougaire killed?”
Leo sat back. “What? I banished him. That’s all.”
She continued to study him. “You didn’t order someone to kill him?”
“No. As far as I know he’s—” Leo leaned toward her. “Are you saying he’s dead?”
She nodded. “You seem genuinely surprised.”
“I am. I told you I wouldn’t kill him, and I kept my word.”
She sighed, a flicker of relief crossing her face. “I didn’t think you could have done it.”
Leo tensed. How could she know that the captain was dead? And if he was dead, did that mean someone had murdered him to keep him from talking? Had Captain Bastard told the truth, and the woman sitting with him now was an imposter?
She bit her lip. “Who would have killed him then?”
Leo swallowed hard. He’d told only the general and the duke what the captain had said. The general had laughed it off, but the duke had looked alarmed. Alarmed enough to kill? Dammit, no.
She tilted her head, watching Leo. “You know who did it?”
“I … suspect someone. I’ll check into it for you.” Although he doubted he could ever tell her that her father had done it. If he was her father. Leo shook his head. What the hell was going on here? He was losing patience with all these damned secrets. “Why do you want me to call you Ana?”
She shrugged and fiddled with the grapes. “It’s short for my name.”
How to Tame a Beast in Seven Days Page 21