Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes

by M. R. Noble

  I closed my eyes and forced my face to relax. When I opened my eyes again, Roman shifted like he’d caught a glimpse of the side of me he recognized. He eased up the tension against me.

  “You’ve got a habit of tackling me with no clothes on,” I said.

  “Mmhm.” A one-word answer, but it was the closest I ever saw to Roman’s face flushing. He backed away and popped up to stand at my feet, seemingly unconcerned with those in the room seeing his nakedness.

  Andre stepped to Roman’s side and stared down at me. “You okay?”

  I could feel his relief and fear. The cold wall formed before I could go probing any further, but I was grateful he didn’t slam it into place. My headache was torrential. Andre’s face had a calm guise, but underneath I could sense uneasiness. He leaned down and hesitated, like touching me now might provoke me into another fit.

  I threw both hands into the air. “Help me up.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Sugar Daddy

  Half the Dyads took my meltdown and attempt to kill one of them as their cue to leave. The rest were now outside the compound assisting any of the prisoners who got caught in the rubble during their escape.

  The outside damage was a disaster. The blast from the wards coming down was an outcome I hadn’t considered. I did a three-sixty to take in all the wreckage. The outer walls of the compound had crumbled to the ground. The local townspeople had ventured up into the mountains with all the commotion and were now assisting to free the remaining prisoners from the ruins. Many hugged each other like they’d just been reunited with lost loved ones.

  Roman had gone to help some of the Dyads with extracting a young woman trapped underneath a beam. She seemed lucid and unscathed, and she was the only one I could see who required immediate assistance. The Dyads worked fast. I wondered what disaster they’d zap into next. Which posed the question, where in the world was I?

  The rubble which littered the mountainside framed a view of a quartz blue body of water.

  In the distance a stone castle of southern Slavic style stood on a cliff crashing with seawater. The sun shimmered off the waves in a hypnotizing rhythm, making everything I’d just faced seem like a tragic dream.

  “Over there!” a little voiced cried out.

  The pattering of feet approached at my left. When I turned, a little boy had jumped into my arms. It was the boy from the cells who was missing his twin.

  He made it.

  I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around him in a hug. His little arms encircled my middle and threatened to squeeze the life out of me. Knowing one small innocent made it out into the world again warmed me more than any hot bath, chocolate, and increased length of parole for repeat offenders ever could.

  A throat cleared just above my ear.

  I jumped, giving the little guy around my waist quite a jar.

  “Isn’t it impolite to pet someone’s dog without asking?” Andre asked.

  I turned, ready to lay into him, but stopped. He was smiling. Not a sarcastic smirk or sneer, but a real heartfelt smile. My words died on my thick tongue. The sun shone on him as he looked down at the boy and messed the kid’s hair. There was a happiness in him, and he wore it well.

  “Incoming,” he said.

  A woman, wearing an expression only a mom could, approached us. I got the awkward sense one gets when one is treating a stranger’s child like one’s own. I loosened my arms around the boy, but he remained as a little cling-on. Not having the heart to shake him free yet, I gave his mom an apologetic smile.

  The woman chastised the boy in a language unknown to me and took his hand. He whined and gave his mom some lip while she peeled him off me. His mom picked him up, clearly taking every moment to get one of his special hugs. She held my gaze with a gratitude which could have shaken bedrock.

  “Spasiba,” she said. “Spasiba.”

  Then she carried the boy away to the life they had before and to all their happy moments yet to come. When they’d disappeared, I turned to the rest of the scene.

  The Dyads had finished, and they were all gathered around Lukas. He looked up and caught me looking his way. He nodded. His look was simple and strong. A way of acknowledging my contribution to the fight, without invading my space. He was okay—for a Dyad. He certainly didn’t seem like the type of person who deserved Bronwyn’s deception, and I had half a mind to tell him so. But today wasn’t the day. He’d earned the admiration of his peers. No doubt being first on the scene, besides Bronwyn, for a horde of Forged this big had earned him some stripes. I couldn’t take this moment from him.

  “Where’s the police?” I asked Andre.

  “This is no man’s land. The police don’t travel up the mountains. Vampires have made deals to govern their own jurisdiction.”

  “Then let’s get out of here.”

  Andre walked me to the car. The two vampires I saw inside were smoking by the passenger door. They turned my way. They shared the same jaw and eyes, but the hair was different: one sandy brown and one chestnut.

  “How you doin’, cuz? You got yourself put back together?”

  “Alexi and Leonid?” I asked.

  “Pleased to meet you, just don’t go throwing fire at us,” the dark-haired one said as he opened the backseat door.

  “Very funny,” I said. “So, who’s who?” Climbing into the backseat felt like I was lying down on a cloud. The sandy brown-haired one called himself Lexi. I almost drifted off to Leonid saying his name.

  “You’re lucky your werewolf friend could track your scent. Once the wards fell, we could come in after you,” Leonid said.

  “I had it under control.”

  He laughed in response.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  Andre sat down next to me. “Crimea.”

  I managed to keep my eyelids open long enough to see Roman walk toward the car.

  ****

  I awoke with a feeling of panic, trapped and held down by a band across my chest.

  “Hey, whoa, whoa.” Andre held his hands up in the air. “You’re safe. Everything’s fine.”

  The strap against my chest was my seatbelt. We were the last ones left in the car. We were in an underground parking garage, with a sign which had a golden arrow pointing up a stairwell. The quiet hum of neon lighting around us told me we were alone.

  “Thanks. Where is everyone?”

  “They’re inside. You were in and out the whole twelve hours, but they didn’t want to wake you for good until you were ready.”

  “I doubt Roman would have a problem waking me.”

  “You were asleep on my shoulder.”

  “Oh.” I looked down. My leg was thrown over his lap in a snuggle.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  I shifted to take my leg off him, but his hand touched my thigh. “I didn’t have a problem with it.” He touched the skin of my leg exposed through the tears in my body suit. The rips in the clothes were there, but the wounds were gone. He must have let me feed off him when I was half-asleep, which explained the dreamy look he had. The sweet salty residue of his blood clung to my tongue. He leaned in, and my heartrate spiked.

  The wall stayed between us, letting human touch guide the way. His hand traced my thigh, and the skin on skin felt better than any magic or bond.

  My fangs broke through the roof of my mouth.

  His mouth hovered close, but not close enough, giving me a chance to catch up or back down.

  Excitement made my belly clench. But to taste his lips right now felt like jumping into a dark void. He blocked the bond. If I kissed him now it was because I wanted him in a very human way. I didn’t know if I could navigate back from that.

  Roman was here. He had followed me. Despite the fact his life was back in Canada and mine was now anywhere but Canada—he was here. Our relationship hadn’t made it to a title before I left, and it was impossible now, but I owed him more. More than continuing with Andre without telling Roman how I felt.

 
“I can’t,” I whispered. “Not yet.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  He slipped a hand into my hair and kissed me on the cheek.

  A shudder zinged through my lower stomach.

  After I slinked out of the car and put some meters between myself and the parking lot, my head started to clear. Fugitive of the law, most of my family gone, heiress of a vampire empire, and about to crack open my lifelong comrade’s heart. The latter was the only one capable of rattling me at this moment. Roman was my last remaining connection to my previous life, and I was about to give him up.

  But I didn’t have to. I could choose Roman. We could leave the Grand Hotel and stay with Miruna in Romania. Roman would leave his family behind in Canada, maybe make visits. My rational mind killed my hopes before they took hold. The police would watch a known associate of a fugitive traveling in and out of the country. If Roman chose to stay with me, he would trade his life in Canada for a life on the run.

  My inner monologue had carried me to the hotel front desk without me noticing. I clued in by the time I walked into the counter. “Roman Lupei’s room, spasiba.”

  The concierge’s bangle-packed wrist jingled as she jotted down a room number on a piece of paper and handed it to me.

  The elevator wait sabotaged my attempt to keep the debate from continuing. I could think of nothing more selfish than making Roman give up his life. But part of me needed him. At the same time my feelings for Andre were confusing. I stopped myself there. I had to leave him out of this. This was about my feelings for Roman. I either loved him or not. If I did, it meant I valued his happiness equal to my own. This much I knew.

  I found myself staring at a number plate which read 6696. The paper in my hands read the same. I knocked on the door. Silence. I knocked again, harder. The wait felt like it would induce an anxiety attack. I leaned my forearms above my head on the door. Where are you, Roman? Then I chastised myself. Roman didn’t live to answer my every call. If the sunrise was over twelve hours ago, Roman was probably having dinner.

  I was a grown woman, and I would do what was right. I wouldn’t ask him to give up his life for me. I’d ask him to go back to Canada.

  Heaving off the door, I dragged myself down the hallway and smacked the up button. I’d order room service…and maybe a bottle of wine to solidify my nerve. The doors opened at the top floor and I walked out of the elevator. Midway down the hall there was a beeping. It was the sound Andre’s beat-up flip phone made when he dialed. I stopped outside a door marked Hotel Personnel Only.

  I hovered my ear to the door and listened for the confirmation of his voice. When he spoke, I braced myself to leave, but his tone kept me still.

  “I told you to give me time! I will fucking die before I go back to the pit! Do you hear me? I’ve tried! She’s incorruptible. You don’t know what she’s like. Every time I try, she pulls back. It’s going to take time to build her trust and even then, she’s like Mother Teresa with canines!”

  My mind shut down—then slowly jump started. She. He said she. My thoughts raced to make a possible list of whom he could be talking about. Frantically, I searched for any name but mine.

  “She was raised Dalca. Instead of sparking the Dark Charm she sparked the Light! It’s going to take months, years, before she’s ready. I’ll need more time.” He paused. “What do you mean you found another way?”

  I swung my back to the door and silently leaned against it. My eyes glossed over making the hallway watery. I stepped away and the room spun as I teetered on my feet. I vaguely caught a glimpse of my hotel room door. With each step I took, I told myself I was almost there. I clutched the door handle and turned. Locked. Leaning against the wall I fished into my bra for the new keycard the lady at the desk has given me.

  The door swung open and I slipped inside. When I closed the door, I dropped the card to the ground. I fell onto the sofa cushion and my eyes overflowed. Slowly a thought seeped into my mind through the shock. I’ve been a fool. Everything I just heard washed over me, even though my heart was still denying it happened. The high I felt with Andre was ripped away. I collected my hands neatly into my lap. He had been trying to manipulate me for a person who wanted me to spark the Dark Charm. He’d wanted me to give up part of my soul, just like he had. The part which was supposed to have returned to him. Had Miruna’s magic failed?

  It was all an act. A show. He hadn’t changed. He hadn’t cared about me the way I cared about him. My stomach wrenched. Or the way I cared about Roman. Andre hadn’t put me first. He was trying to maneuver me, like a puppet on a stage, lining me up for the final act—whenever it occurred. But he had just revealed it wasn’t him manning the strings. He was following a superior’s orders, one on the other end of the phone, and with Kazimir dead there was only one other person in Russia I knew with that type of power.

  The phone rang, making me startle in my seat. Shock gave way to the familiar charge of adrenaline. My hand smashed into the receiver knocking it off into the air for me to catch.

  “Hello?”

  “Miss Dalca, the Tzar has requested a private audience with you immediately,” said a female voice. “Can you accommodate?”

  I had to find Roman and get out of here, but not before I confronted Loukin. Confirmation of his involvement in Andre’s conversation was necessary to know who was plotting against me. I also needed to know why. I would act my part until I got more information, and if my theory was true, Loukin would see just how much damage a rogue police intern could do.

  I smiled into the receiver. “I sure can.”

  The walk to Loukin’s office gave me valuable moments to reanalyze days’ worth of intel I’d overlooked. A tiny voice of shame wanted to break out and scream. My thoughts snapped back and forth like firecrackers.

  A king and military leader doesn’t let it slip he’s losing a war. Loukin wanted me to know. He’d wanted me to take it upon myself to end the war with Kazimir. I took out his main adversary, which had a chilling resemblance to my father’s assassination, done by another but to Loukin’s benefit.

  My hands pumped with blood as I stood at the thick arched doors to his office. I turned the handle and stepped down inside. I now had the feeling of stepping onto a spiderweb. The multiple gold doors of the hexagram room looked inward, like the strings of a web which met in the center. It made me wonder how many people he’d caught in his web before, and if I’d be drained of blood before I left its grasp.

  Loukin looked up from the papers he’d been studying on his desk and waved me to a chair opposite him. His face glowed from the candles on his desk, split into light and dark.

  “Ah, Karolina, please sit.”

  I dragged the chair out an extra two feet and sat down, away from his arms’ vicinity. “You needed to speak with me?”

  “I wanted to congratulate you on your victory.”

  “Really?”

  Loukin smiled pleasantly, waiting for my response, but his face faltered when he looked at me. No doubt noticing the dried tear streaks down my cheeks and puffy eyes. A flash of softness broke his professional manner.

  “Here I thought you were the victor.” I knew I looked like hell. I hadn’t showered after a night of battling for my life, and with Kazimir it’d been a battle for my soul. Not only had I left alive, I’d left on a bliss point. Only to come back here and face more lies and deception. The painful shock Mama would have called heartbreak rippled into an emotion far more dangerous—and I could feel it seething onto my face.

  “Well,” Loukin said. “I have good news for you. We had our police department file a report on your kidnapping. It explains your questionable disappearance after Ana’s, I mean your mother’s, death. It states you were abducted from Canada after your captors set fire to your house, and the Russian police apprehended your kidnapper’s body after a violent hostage negotiation. Your wolf friend’s effort to find you and track you down is also included to explain his absence, and it’s stated his work with the Russian police was inva
luable.”

  I paused. Maybe I had misjudged this whole situation. Here I was throwing shade at Loukin, when he was the only person who had given me a solution for getting my life back. He’d cared enough to know what I truly wanted: to go to school, to be a regular young woman again. A light stronger than the Light Charm itself shone in me. Hope. He’d come up with a way to clear my name. No, bought a way to clear my name. The buy-off for the Russian police must have cost him.

  Like he’d read my mind he said, “You are no longer a fugitive. You and the wolf can return home. Your father’s inheritance held in trust for his heir is now yours. I’ve called your university and explained the unique circumstance. They’ve accepted you to begin classes shortly after your return.”

  A sickly feeling crept into my innards. It was too good, too perfect.

  “And,” he continued, “with my political connections, I was able to get quite a prestigious internship for you within your Canadian Government.”

  I fought the urge to squirm in my chair.

  “These things do come at a price, of course. These are the types of favors which money can’t buy. Only connections can…and once you take a favor you owe one.”

  There it was. The drop. He’d set his terms.

  “We will be expecting information in return. From the internship which has been arranged for you.”

  “Where’s my internship?”

  “The House of Commons in Ottawa.”

  He was asking me to spy.

  I dove across the two-foot distance to the edge of his desk and swiped all his belongings to the floor.

  He leaned back out of range.

  I hunched over his desk, palms planted. “If you think for one second, I’m going to spy for you, you’re wrong. Terribly wrong.”