by Jory Strong
His expression hardened but didn't grow cold. "A little over a week ago."
"When he arrived with the peddler?"
"Yes."
So she'd been right about his marrying solely to gain a mother for Jacob. But that reason didn't matter, not when they had this.
She touched her mouth to her husband's, chased away hardness with softness, told him with a kiss that she was glad he'd accepted responsibility for Jacob and made her his wife.
Josiah's hand swept down her spine, pressed her mound against the hard ridge of his erection.
Heat poured into her. All that existed was her husband's taste and touch.
"Papa, I thought you were going to help Mama with the mess."
Josiah ended the kiss with a laugh. "Blame your mama for distracting me."
They dealt with the burnt cake. Took it outside and scraped it from the pans, then washed the pans along with the rest of the dishes.
"Enzo can find Makayla," Jacob said. "I can help look for her."
Josiah put his hand on his son's head. "You'll wait here."
"Mama and I were playing Go Fish. Will you stay and play, Papa?"
"Si. We'll eat lunch together and play cards. "
It's going to be okay, Ella thought again, and was still thinking it when, a little while later, Saul's calling "Josiah" through the open front doorway interrupted their card game.
Josiah left the couch in the family room. Ella directed her request at Jacob. "Give me your jacks."
Jacob groaned and gave her a jack of hearts. She paired it with the other jacks to make a book. "Now give me your twos."
"Go fish!" Jacob said with glee.
She added a card to those in her hand. At the end of the hallway, Saul said, "The doctor was brought to the stronghold but he's not alone."
"Who's with him?"
"Your wife's sister."
* * * * *
Chapter 18
Ella set the cards down, her heart banging against her ribs and her ability to concentrate on the game destroyed.
At the front door, Josiah said, "Blindfold them. Bring them here through the maze. Take Jacob and Enzo with you to the stronghold and assign some of Ciro's boys to keep him company. They can play in the recreation area."
Jacob set his cards down, a mixture of anxiety and excitement in his expression. Seeing it, Ella said "I'll need to help the doctor tend to the patient. It'll be more fun for you at the stronghold. I bet you can get some of Ciro's boys to play hide and seek."
"And Enzo can find them!"
She smiled. "Exactly. You go to the front door. I need to get water boiling in the kitchen."
"Come on, Enzo!"
They charged from the room and down the hallway. She heard them leave as she hurried to the kitchen.
A few minutes later Josiah joined her, helped by finding a larger pot and filling it with water. "Why would your sister accompany the doctor?"
"I don't know." The hard beating of her heart against her ribs chiseled away at her confidence. He'd meant to marry Victoria. In a few minutes he'd see her and be reminded of her beauty.
Ella's hands shook, slopping water onto the counter. She set a second pot on the stove. Grabbed a towel and cleaned up the mess. "I need to check on the patient."
She fled the kitchen. Forced herself to focus on Josiah's unconscious prisoner.
It helped to calm her, restored some of her confidence.
The man who'd engaged in a water battle, who'd made love to her, who'd comforted her with teasing and then with kisses after she'd burned the cake wouldn't destroy her heart by deciding he'd rather have a different woman.
Even if Griffin had.
She returned to the kitchen, turned down the flame beneath the pots of water then joined Josiah on the front porch.
"Anything wrong, mami?"
She grasped the porch rail rather than reach for him. "No."
One of the metal doors leading into the maze opened.
Griffin and Victoria emerged, accompanied by Saul and DeAngelo.
Once the sight of Griffin had filled her with hopefulness and made her tingle with excitement. He'd always appreciated her abilities, had seemed to go out of his way to praise her—and they'd made a good team. But after catching him with Gina, every time she'd thought about him, or encountered him, she'd felt hurt and betrayed, as if she'd become useless, valueless.
But now, as she stood next to Josiah and watched Griffin approach, there was no comparison. Griffin was handsome in the way of a man who'd never had to fight for survival. He was soft, where the man she was married to was hardened, and that strength was more appealing.
The betrayal no longer stung, no longer had the power to hurt her. All she felt was relief, that he'd never asked her to marry him, that he'd arrived to tend to the patient.
At Josiah's nod, the blindfolds made of blue, graffiti-covered rags were tugged free. Griffin's gaze sought her face and he smiled. There was relief in his eyes, a wealth of it that made her believe they could once again be friends even if his future one day led to the city elite.
"Take the doctor upstairs to the prisoner's room," Josiah told DeAngelo, grasping Ella's arm to prevent her from accompanying Griffin.
He turned his focus to Victoria and so did Ella. Her sister had brought a large trunk.
"Mother and Father sent me," Victoria said. She opened the beautiful, hand-knitted drawstring purse at her waist, pulled a note from it and thrust it toward Ella. "This is for you."
Ella left the porch, took the note from her sister. For a heartbeat she allowed herself to believe that her parents cared, that Victoria had come to make sure she was okay. And then she unfolded the note.
It was in her mother's handwriting. Your sister has attracted the interest of a powerful suitor with an unsavory reputation. I expect you to shelter her in the warlord's house until it's safe for her to return home.
Ella might've crumpled the note in her hand if her father hadn't added a message at the bottom. I hope you are well. You are sorely missed.
Her father's words were worth saving, worth treasuring—even if she couldn't be sure that he didn't mean she was missed for her work in the marketplace, or in the workshop, or at his side as he tended the more difficult patients.
She folded the note and slipped it into her pocket, her stomach roiling with the thought of Victoria being in her home. Earlier she'd felt desirable, but next to Victoria, wearing a light blue dress that accentuated her curves and beauty, Ella felt the same way she'd felt wearing the old brown dress.
"My parents have asked me to shelter Victoria here," she told Josiah.
"Do you want to honor the request?" His eyes and voice belonged to the warlord, not the man who'd been playing cards just minutes ago.
Did she want to honor the request? No. But thinking about what it had cost her mother to bring her into the world, Ella nodded yes then glanced toward the doorway. "Griffin might need my help."
"Go tend to the patient."
Josiah waited until Ella disappeared from sight before asking Saul, "Were the trunk and the doctor's bag searched?"
"The doctor's bag, yes, but we didn't confiscate his scalpels. He's been warned that death won't be quick if he causes harm to anyone but the prisoner—and even that should be avoided."
Josiah looked at the woman he'd thought to marry. Fuckable. Forgettable. But that no longer sounded ideal in a wife.
"Search her trunk and purse," he told Saul.
When it was done he allowed Ella's sister to enter the house.
Ella hustled downstairs, swept into the laundry room for a bucket and rags then into the kitchen. She emerged carrying the bucket, careful not to splash its hot contents on her leg.
Josiah frowned, contemplated going to her or yelling for DeAngelo, but she hastened up the stairs. "Sit on the couch," he told Victoria, pointing to the one in the front parlor.
She took a sewing project from her trunk then sat. Saul closed the front door and loung
ed against it. "I don't like this."
"I hear you, amigo." Josiah leaned against the parlor doorjamb, thinking of the note passed to Ella, not liking her sister's unexpected arrival or his own sister's disappearance.
The two weren't connected, but… It was impossible to ignore the ever-present truth that Merati had spies operating in the warrens, gathering information and seeding unrest.
He'd been with Saul when word came that Ella had agreed to go to the marketplace, providing Makayla an opportunity to go with her.
Interesting that Makayla should disappear so soon after your new wife arrived, Saul had said, both of them aware that Makayla would make a nice prize, as a hostage to ransom or one to ensure compliance.
He'd rushed to the house, suspicion riding him—until he'd found Ella in tears over a burnt cake. Fuck, but she undid him.
And yet as he studied the blonde he'd expected to marry, unwelcome questions returned. Was Ella the apothecary's daughter? Or a servant turned into a spy?
DeAngelo came downstairs, emptied the bucket of water, refilled it and returned to the patient's room.
Saul shook his head. "What's he thinking, hauling water instead of guarding?"
"Ella sent for the doctor. He's not going to hurt her."
"Not physically anyway," Victoria said under her breath.
Josiah straightened away from the doorjamb. He hadn't liked the way the doctor's gaze had gone immediately to Ella's face, hadn't liked the visible relief that might indicate more than friendship. "You'd be smart to explain the threat to my wife."
Victoria looked up from her sewing. "Everyone expected Ella and Griffin to marry."
Saul pushed away from the front door, moved to stand near Josiah so he could look at Ella's sister. "Is that so?" he asked, his voice edged like a blade, and there was no avoiding the memory of the knife fight that had come after Saul had first voiced suspicion of Geneva's faithfulness.
Victoria shrugged. "Ask her if you think I'm making it up. She mooned over him. All he had to do was mention he wanted a potion and she was racing to the workshop."
"And yet they didn't marry," Josiah said.
"She married you."
Saul stroked the first of the twenty-five bullets in his bandolier. "You want me to go upstairs?"
"No," he said, though Victoria's words burned like a wound, festered as the minutes crawled. He knew too well that a woman could pleasure and be pleasured by one man while loving another. There'd been no pretense in Ella's reactions yesterday, or today, but that didn't mean he had her loyalty, her love.
He hardened his heart against that word. Love. He didn't need it, not for himself. He'd married her for Jacob.
Finally DeAngelo came downstairs. "It's done."
Josiah headed for the stairway, the festering wound becoming the ooze of suspicion. He took the stairs two and three at a time. Strode down the hallway and entered the patient's room to find his wife and the doctor holding hands.
Ella pulled hers out of the doctor's, color flushing into her face.
Josiah fisted his hand rather than reach for the gun in his waistband. If he drew, he would pull the trigger. And that would signal weakness where she was concerned.
"Leave," he told the doctor, deadly menace in the command.
"He needs to—"
"Leave."
"But the patient—"
"Can die." Josiah's gaze flicked to the prisoner. Hair had been shaved away from a portion of his scalp, and a hole drilled into his skull so fluid could drain into a pan.
"Josiah—"
"Would you rather I toss the doctor through the window?"
Fuck. He might as well have shot the man.
Her spine stiffened. Her chin came up. "You're being unreasonable. Griffin—"
"I'll go," the doctor said, his eyes darting to Ella. "You've got the drugs he might need, and the knowledge to take over."
Ella whirled, stomped to the dresser and mierda but her show of temper excited him—just as Geneva's once had. She picked up the books she'd sent to the house when the prisoner was moved and returned to the bed, handing them to the doctor.
Saul had come upstairs, stood in the doorway, witness to Ella's temper and worse, Josiah's growing feelings for the woman he'd married. Josiah said, "Blindfold the doctor. Hand him off to DeAngelo. He leaves my territory and he doesn't come back."
The two men left. His wife's eyes blazed. "You interrupted an apology."
"And that's the reason for your guilty blush?"
"I have nothing to feel guilty about," she said, meeting his eyes then looking away.
Josiah clamped his hand around her arm. "A reminder, mami, I am not a man who tolerates betrayal."
Her eyes flashed back to his, fire returning to them so that he wanted to slam his mouth down on hers. "And will you be faithful to me?"
Rosa's voice, and then Makayla's, allowed him to escape the question without revealing her power over him. "You need to deal with your sister," he said, and left the room to deal with his.
Blaine, in the hallway with Rosa and Nessa and Makayla, said, "Noah is back and he's not alone."
"Have the public square bells rung," Josiah told Nessa.
She left to see it done.
"Who did the tracker bring?" Rosa asked as Ella exited the stairwell.
"La Zorra." The cunning whore.
"Makayla and I will remain here. We have no need to witness what must be done." A glance toward Victoria, who'd joined them in the hallway with her travel trunk, was more question than a reminder of failed manners.
He should have sent her with the doctor. "This is Victoria, Ella's sister. She's visiting, for now. But she will accompany us to the public square."
"And the prisoner?"
"Ella will have to answer that question."
She reached them and said, "Griffin has done everything he can. I'll check on him when we get back."
Josiah looked at his sister. "I'll deal with you when I return." To Blaine, he said, "Post guards on each of the maze doors."
Josiah contemplated blindfolding Victoria then shrugged away the idea. It was inevitable that if she remained, she'd be coming and going with Ella to the marketplace.
After she returned to the city, he'd have the maze reconfigured. It wasn't easy work, altering the course of it by moving the rubble, but it could be done.
They left the house and entered the maze through the doorway that would exit closest to the public square.
He couldn't help but compare this trip through the maze with the one marked by Jacob's excitement and the shy, appreciative glances Ella had sent his way, the pleasure he'd found in her company.
He thought about the earlier playfulness in the bedroom, the light in her eyes, even the fire in her eyes when she'd asked him if he intended to be faithful. That fire, that playfulness was gone, as was the soft gentleness that seemed so much of her essence.
She'd withdrawn from him, erected a wall that grew with each step. It was like those moments after he'd tugged the scarf from her face, but at the same time, it was different, worse. After having her attention, he hated the withdrawal.
Geneva had sometimes punished him with silence. She'd been mercurial and it'd fired his passion, but Ella's silence and the subtle slump of her shoulders, as if in defeat, made him ache in an unfamiliar way, brought guilt that was becoming far too familiar.
Mierda, but she was getting to him.
They reached the public square and the crowd parted. Those warren residents who'd gathered at the sound of the bells murmured quietly, their expressions somber, watchful.
With a red brick wall behind them, Ciro held La Zorra by her upper arm, with Noah standing at his other side. Josiah hadn't seen her since he was thirteen but he wasn't surprised that she'd done well for herself, that she still possessed much of her beauty.
Black hair was pulled back into an elaborate braid showing off expensive earrings. He studied each piercing, curious as to whether she wore the pair hi
s father had bought for her instead of paying for a meal and safe lodging for the night.
Fine clothing showed off large breasts and a narrow waist. Her fingers were adorned with rings of gold and silver, some of them containing colorful gems.
He recognized the one on her thumb. She'd worn it when his father was alive.
"Where did you find her?" he asked Noah.
"Aaryan's warren. She was running a brothel."
The voices in the crowd grew louder, expressions grew harder. Noah's answer was enough to turn the gathered against his father's treacherous whore.
Aaryan allowed slavery. He and his men took whoever they wanted. Boys. Girls. Women. Often using them for personal pleasure—breaking them in—before placing them in brothels.
All of the brothels in Aaryan's territory were owned by the warlord or those in his inner circle, and managed by those with close personal ties.
There was no reason for her to have been in Aaryan's warren unless she wanted to be there. She could have opened a brothel in another territory. That she'd chosen to do it in Aaryan's territory told him that she'd been rewarded with it, probably for betraying some other man as she'd betrayed his father.
To the gathered, Josiah said, "My father traveled the warrens, trading and moving merchandise. The greater the risk, the greater the reward, and those risks were necessary. Okmin was warlord here, and the majority of the drugs that kept my mother alive were sold in the warrens at city prices."
The dislike emanating from the crowd deepened with the mention of the warlord he had killed to take this territory. Okmin had been a man to beggar other men with his demands for tribute, and with what he charged for the drugs he made without paying for ingredients or labor.
"My father contracted to move barrels of gasoline. The profit would have bought enough medicine to ensure my mother's health for months. But he made the mistake of trusting his mistress with details of our route. After we were ambushed, his whore emerged and joined the men who'd killed my father and left me for dead."
Saul moved from the edge of the crowd. He grasped La Zorra's other arm so she was held between him and Ciro.