Kissed by Death - Book three of the Trueborn Heirs Series

by Queen, Nyna

Stephane didn’t correct him, just kept glaring at him.

  Debayne swallowed but attempted to brush it over with a smile. “Listen, my friend. You got it all wrong—”

  “Oh, did I?” Stephane arched his eyebrows. “Tell me something, friend. Were you involved in the abduction attempt on Maxwell and Josepha? Were you the one who sold them out?”

  Debayne looked genuinely taken aback. “Stephane, do you really think me capable of such an act? We’re friends! I’ve known the children their entire life, for heaven’s sake. I’m Maxwell’s naming witness. Do you really believe I would harm them?”

  “Frankly, I don’t know what to believe anymore, Edward. It seems there is a lot that I don’t know about you.”

  “Stephane, please.” Debayne took half a step toward him. “You have to believe me. I had nothing to do with it.”

  “But you know who does,” Darken said softly. He detached himself from the door and strolled closer, the vicious, red glow in his eyes at odds with the gentleness of his voice.

  Debayne’s breath hitched. He stared at Darken, and a hint of panic flickered in his eyes. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Darken could feel his fear now. To him it was richer and sweeter than any of the wines in this room could ever be. And it told him he was right.

  Debayne swung around to Stephane, reaching for his arm. “Steph, I don’t have a clue what he is talking about. Please you have to—”

  “Stop lying!” Stephane roared and Debayne shrunk back as though he had been slapped.

  His brother sucked in a deep breath and let it out again in a hiss. “We’ve played poker together. You’ve never been a good liar, Edward. And right now, I’m not in a forgiving mood.”

  The full measure of his anger was finally showing. He intertwined his fingers, and Darken wondered if he was doing so to keep himself from reaching for Debayne’s neck.

  “In the maze, you said you were ‘all in this together.’ So. What is it that you are in together? And don’t make up stories, Ed. We know about the Maria Carvalis Prison Camp.”

  Debayne gasped and turned a ghastly white.

  “Oh yes,” Stephane confirmed with a pleasant smile. “Darken was there. And while the site might not have been running yesterday, it certainly did during the past fifteen years.” He bent forward, eyes hard. “I want to know what exactly was going on at that place. Why did Ferhus pay a quarter of a million dollars on it and who, in the Great Mother’s name, is the ‘Master’ who is behind all this?”

  His voice had gotten louder and louder, his expression close to deranged.

  Debayne inched backward and hit the wine rack. His features were distorted with fear. “I can’t tell you anything, Stephane. Please, don’t ask me—”

  “I wasn’t asking!” Stephane growled. “I am demanding that you tell me all you know. Now.”

  “I can’t!” Debayne’s voice rose to a desperate wail. “You saw what happened to Robert Ferhus! It was a warning. A warning to the rest of us. He wanted to come clean and they—they killed him for it!”

  “Who are they?” Stephane demanded.

  “Didn’t you listen, Steph?” Spittle flew from Debayne’s lips. “They murdered him! If I betray them, I’ll be next.”

  “I don’t care!” Stephane snapped. “My family is in danger—”

  “I have a family, too!” Debayne said heatedly. “I have children just as you do, Steph. My sons … I must protect them.”

  He pressed his fingers to his forehead and started pacing up and down. “Without his medicine and the monthly treatments, my youngest will die within a few months.” He looked up, his eyes suddenly sad and bitter. “That’s how they recruited me in the first place. When Jonathan was born and diagnosed with Progerion Syndrome, we knew he wouldn’t make it to his second birthday without an operation.” He swallowed hard and his thin face suddenly looked haggard. “I cleared all our accounts, raided all the hideouts, lent on our mortgage, scraped at every relative’s door, gathering all the money I could get but it simply wasn’t enough. It would have paid for the initial operation, but the doctors told us he would be in need of lifelong monthly treatments afterwards, and there was no way we would ever be able to afford that. The cost of the operation would have wiped us clean. We would have bought him a couple of months, if that.”

  Debayne shuddered, lost in horrible memories. “I sat there with that bag full of money in my lap, looking at my baby boy, knowing it wasn’t enough to save him. That’s when they approached me.”

  He closed his eyes for a brief second. “They said they could make sure Jonny got on the list for the operation, and they promised me an opportunity to make enough money to pay for all of his treatments throughout his entire life. They also offered me their support in becoming the senator in my province. With the political status derived from it, I knew we would be able to send Horace to one of the best collages in the Republic, something I could never have hoped for before that…” He swallowed again, hard. “All I had to do was give them a loan—the bigger part of the money which I had gathered—and to vow that if I was asked to make a certain political decision, I would do so. At the time, it seemed a small price to pay.”

  Stephane glared at Debayne as if seeing him for the first time. “You had money problems? And you never came to me in all these years? I thought we were friends!”

  Debayne gave a brittle laugh. “Easy to say for a man who always had more money than he could possibly spend.” He raised a hand when Stephane opened his mouth and shook his head with a heavy sigh. “That was about fifteen years ago, Steph. We were barely acquainted then and far from being close friends. And later … I was ashamed, don’t you understand? Ashamed of my weakness. Ashamed of…” He covered his face with both hands. “I already lost Marissa because of it. I-I tried to keep her out of it but … I … I couldn’t explain all the money and she—she couldn’t stand the idea that…” He dropped his hands and stared ahead, beaten. “It’s why she divorced me …”

  “It’s no less of what you deserve,” Stephane said, disgusted. “You rotten, mobbed-up bastard!”

  A spark of anger flared in Debayne’s eyes. “What would you have done in my place? Tell me, Steph, what would you have done if it had been Maxwell whom they had moved from his cradle directly to his deathbed?”

  Stephane’s lips pressed together. “I would have found another way!”

  “That’s always so easy to say!” Debayne flung up his hands. “Don’t you think I considered all the alternatives? That I didn’t explore every available option? But it was either that or watching Jonny wither to death under my hands.”

  He slowly shook his head. “You want to judge me, Steph? Go ahead, judge me. But I tell you, you would have done just the same. When the life of your baby is at stake, everything else pales in comparison. I would have promised them anything to save my son. I was desperate.”

  He glanced up, his eyes filled with a plea to understand. “And at the time, I honestly didn’t know what was going on at the prison camp—most of us didn’t. Please, believe me. I had no idea what the money was used for. We weren’t supposed to ask questions. I-I only found out much later and—” He licked his lips, his haunted gaze flickering to Stephane, his voice speeding up. “I know your position but … they were just shapers, Stephane. Just shapers, and criminals most of them, I was assured…”

  “What were just shapers?” Darken’s voice cracked like whip. If it had had any substance, Debayne would have been cut bloody. Darken glided forward, his magic burning in his eyes like two destructive flames. For the first time today, he reveled in Debayne’s fear. “What was done to them at that Jester-forsaken place?”

  Debayne whimpered and curled himself together as if he were being pelted by a hailstorm. “I can’t tell you anything more. I already said too much. If they find out…”

  “They will,” Stepahne told him without any trace of mercy in his voice. “Because you will come with me to the guardaí headquarters and make an official test
imony. You might have had reason to strike that deal to save Jonathan’s life back then, but you should have come clean years ago. It’s time for the secrecy to end.”

  Debayne stumbled away from him, horrified. If he’d been pale before, his face was bloodless now, more like that of a corpse than that of a living man.

  “No, Steph, please no.” He wildly shook his head. “Don’t make me testify. If I betray them, they won’t just kill me. They will ruin my entire family and make me watch. They will cut the money supply so that Jonny won’t get his treatments anymore, condemning him to a slow, agonizing death. They will make sure that Horace will never be hired for a decent job. Marissa will get evicted from the house, my parents-in-law will lose their pensions…”

  His fear was so thick in the air that Darken could taste it on his tongue. Tainted with the familiarity, it tasted bitter-sweet, calling to the darkest part of his nature.

  Darken clenched his fists, forcing the desire back.

  “Please,” Debayne whispered, looking at Stephane. “Don’t make me do this. I have to protect my family.”

  “I will protect them,” Stephane said fiercely. “All of you. You have my word.”

  Debayne shook his head with an almost sad smile. “You can’t protect us. Nobody can. Not from them.” He bent forward. “Listen, Steph. This is too big, even for you. For the sake of your family, just leave this be. Drop out of the election. It’s just not worth it.” He grabbed Stephane’s arm, desperation speaking out of his every aspect. “They are too powerful. If you fight them, they will crush you. I beg you, my friend. Don’t do this!”

  Stephane yanked his arm free from his grip. “I won’t cave in and retreat like a dog with its tail between its legs. This is an atrocity! I will make sure that the people involved will be held liable. And you will help me, Edward.”

  “Steph, I can’t!”

  A frown creased his brother’s brow. Darken could tell that he was losing his patience.

  “Don’t force me to ask my brother to get the truth out of you.”

  Debayne shied back. “You—you wouldn’t.” But he sounded doubtful.

  “It appears you don’t know me that well either, Edward. Like you, I shrink from little to keep my family safe.”

  Darken studied his brother. Right now, he wasn’t sure if Stephane was serious or bluffing. His brother was infamous for his temper, not for his cruelty, but at the moment he was very furious. And they needed Debayne’s help. Yes, they did, but…

  Did Stephane know what he was asking of him? He wouldn’t be torturing a stranger but a man whom he knew, a man whom he had spoken to many times during the past years and even shared a joke with occasionally. To torture a stranger was bad enough, but Debayne? And if Darken opened the tap on his magic, he might not be able to close it in time. Just a sweet, delicious taste of Debayne’s pain… Darken shivered at the thought. His body yearned for it. Craved it. He could feel the man’s life, so full and vivid and bright. It pulled at him, drawing him in like a physical force. Starved as he was, it might devour him.

  “You leave me no choice, Edward.” Stephane looked at Darken and nodded once, at the same time tapping the top of his left hand with his right forefinger.

  Darken relaxed. It was a sign from their childhood. Stephane was playing Debayne, but he didn’t seriously want him to unleash his curse. Relief flooded him.

  “No, please,” Debayne sobbed, unaware of their little wordless conversation.

  He dropped against one of the wine racks, covering his eyes with one hand, his shoulders shaking violently.

  Seeing him like this, Darken couldn’t help pitying him. Whatever he had done, Edward Debayne wasn’t an evil man at heart. He was a man who had made the wrong choices and gotten involved with the wrong people and now the consequences were haunting him. And he was right about one thing. If it had been Maxwell or Josepha’s life in the balance, Darken would have done anything necessary to save them, and so would Stephane. But understanding his motives didn’t make his actions rights, and now he would have to answer for it. As they all had to.

  Debayne leaned back his head and opened his eyes to the ceiling. They were red and puffy.

  “It should never have come to this,” he whispered.

  “In that we agree,” Stephane said.

  Debayne turned to him, a strange, nearly calm expression on his face. “You will look after them, won’t you? My family. You’ll make sure they are cared for when I die.”

  Stephane sighed, some of his anger melting away. “Calm down, Edward. Nobody is going to die. Not if I can help it.”

  Debayne slowly shook his head. His hand fell to his side, his fingers brushing the seams of his tweet pants, picking at them. “For whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry, old friend. I’m very sorry. I hope you can forgive me one day.”

  Darken saw the movement but his brain needed a second too long to draw the correct conclusion.

  “Poison!” He barked and lunged for Debayne. When he grabbed the man’s arm, the capsule or pill, or whatever had flashed between his fingers, had already vanished in Debayne’s mouth.

  For a frozen second, the three of them stared at each other, shocked into numbness.

  Beneath Darken’s fingers, Debayne started to tremble. First, it was only a tremor, but it quickly matured into a shivering fit. His breathing shallowed and he gasped.

  Stephane seized his shoulders and shook him, dragging him by his shirt.

  “Edward! What the hell?”

  He pushed him against the rack, causing two wine bottles to slip out and crash on the floor, spraying red wine around like shed blood. Several more teetered precariously.

  Debayne’s hand extended, grabbing Stephane’s lapel. His mouth opened.

  “I-I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “Maybe if—if I d-die … they will l-leave my—my … f-family alone…”

  His eyes bulged and his legs buckled. He toppled backward to the floor, right into the wine puddle. Stephane dropped to his knees beside him, shaking him violently.

  “Oh no, you son of a whoring bitch! You won’t get off so easily! Edward. EDWARD, NO!”

  The door burst open. Alex hovered in the frame, eyes wild.

  “Get Josepha,” Darken shouted. “Quickly!”

  Alex moved faster than humanly possible, flying off.

  Debayne was twitching uncontrollably on the floor, frothy yellow foam spilling over his bloodless lips. His left hand gripped Stephane’s arm, the sinews sticking out of his pallid skin.

  Alex came dashing through the door, careened on the floor and landed next to them, clutching Josepha’s med kit.

  She sucked in a breath when she saw Debayne’s state.

  The senator’s eyes focused on her, turning dazed, well-nigh mesmerized. One of his hands rose a couple of inches as though he meant to touch her face, then dropped back to the floor. His whole body reared up and he let out a horrible, gurgling sound, gasping as his face turned the darkest shade of purple. He wheezed, and Darken felt Death swooping through the cellar like a dark, silent shadow, bending over the senator for the final kiss. A fierce, flesh-tearing hunger claimed Darken. The need to kill, to reap, getting so strong he could barely stand it without bursting. He clenched his fists so hard his nails broke the skin.

  Then it was gone and Debayne’s hand, which had held onto Stephane’s arm, fell to the ground, motionless.

  Loud, running steps slapped against stone. His niece appeared in the door, red-faced and panting. But her services were no longer required.

  Debayne was dead.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  RAIN drummed against the living room windows of the Dubois’ townhouse, rattling the glass in the frames.

  Alex sat curled up in one of the armchairs with her knees drawn to her chest and stared out into the heavy deluge, her ginger tea untouched on the couch table, probably cold by now.

  A low growl vibrated through the room, inaudible but to her shaper senses. Darken was pacing the length of the parlor li
ke a panther which had been forced into a too tight enclosure, waiting for one of its keepers to come close enough to strike at.

  Alex knew the feeling.

  Upstairs, Stephane was trying to calm down his wife. Edalyne had gone into hysterics when she’d seen Debayne’s twisted body on the cellar floor, and Stephane was doing his best to explain the situation to her while dealing with his own fury and grief. Occasionally, they could hear one of them shouting through all the walls and floors that separated them.

  Josy and Max were hunkering down on the floor beside the couch, quiet as two baby mice, half-heartedly pretending to be still working on the big wooden jigsaw puzzle they had been putting together before the gruesome news had shaken the house. Once in a while, one of them would glance up but, realizing nothing had changed, would quickly lower their head back to the puzzle.

  Josy was white as a sheet and moving so stiffly she seemed about to snap like a brittle little twig under too much pressure. Even Max was too shocked to ask his usual share of inappropriate questions. The kid sat in a small heap, his favorite stuffed animal at his side, eyes wide, chewing his nails.

  Everybody was feeling the storm inside the house as acutely as the one outside.

  Which was hardly surprising. Now that Stephane’s parliamentary friend had decided to kill himself rather than help them unravel the Master’s shady dealings, they had an actual skeleton in their closet and nobody had a clue what to do about it.

  They couldn’t exactly call the guardaí without turning another big spotlight on the Dubois family and on herself.

  And what would they tell them anyway? True, we lured him here under false premises and interrogated him in the cellar, but his death was an accident. No really, it was. He killed himself, we had nothing to do with it.

  Yeah, clearly not.

  Or how about: He is dead because he was part of some super-secret organization that has been running for the past fifteen years without you ever getting wind of it. We were just trying to identify the head honcho called the Master. He was also involved in Governor Ferhus’ murder, which investigation we withheld valuable information from, but hey, we only did that so we could eventually expose everything ourselves. Please, you have to believe us!