by C. D. Gorri
Rafael was a literature major at Cambridge, studying to be a poet. He was idealistic, romantic to a fault, and completely worthless in a fight. I hoped he didn’t do something stupid in these next two days to prevent him going back to school, for I dearly wanted him to achieve his dream.
But that depended on him staying out of the king’s sights, and Viktor had eyes everywhere.
All three of us were in danger, and these next two days would be a test of how strong our triad was, and how much we could take without breaking apart.
“Where did Markus disappear to?” Rafael asked, pulling his shirt down, covering up his deliciously ribbed abs. “He just got here.”
“Perhaps he’s talking to Father. They’ve been cooking something up between them for months, not that either of them told me what it is.” As Rafael wrinkled his nose, I realized he knew something. “Spill.” I elbowed him hard in the ribs. “What do you know, and will it work?”
“Aw, Tessa…belle, you know I can’t say anything, mon amour.”
He drew my name out with a curl of his tongue, and that bit of French thrown in made me want to drag him upstairs and straight back into bed. But the house was full of strangers, and Mama had relegated us to the rear drawing room, where no one would disturb us.
Having two lovers wasn’t exactly frowned upon in our world, but having two lovers when the king had his sights set on you put them in danger, and my family loved Markus and Rafael nearly as much as I did. Besides, there were sure to be spies among the constant stream of workmen, ready to report our every move back to Viktor, in return for coin or favor.
Or, most likely, a reprieve from his cruelty.
In our world, someone was always watching, and I’d learned to be careful. My life might depend on it.
Heavy footsteps approached in the hallway outside, and Rafael took up position beside the door as I straightened my clothing, smoothing back my hair before the door flew open. Then I didn’t know what to say as a huge form filled the opening, his shoulders practically blocking out the sunlight as he stepped inside, his faded, dirty fatigues dripping dust all over my mother’s immaculate drawing room.
Caden Gauthier was no stranger to me—in fact, he was Markus’s best friend, or had been, before he disappeared three years ago. I’d heard he was fighting with mercenaries in South America, or hunting down rogue vampires on this continent, but in truth, he could have been anywhere that conflict raged.
“What is he doing here?” I asked Markus when he stepped into the room behind Caden, meeting my eyes briefly before looking away. Guilty. You are so damn guilty. “He’s a Gauthier,” I said, more vehemently than I’d intended.
“I’m well aware of that, Contessa,” Markus told me, quietly shutting the door. “All I’m asking is for you to hear us out.”
Markus only used my given name when he had something terrible to tell me, and my heart fell like a stone as I looked between him, Caden, and Rafael, whose face had lit up the second the warrior stepped inside. Little traitor. He probably was in on this all along.
“I asked Caden to come back to New Orleans.” Markus didn’t flinch beneath my angry stare, and I sighed, all the fight going out of me. He’s only trying to find a way out of this impossible situation. “To help us, Tess, to see if his father might exercise some influence with Viktor.”
I let this sink in. It could work. The Gauthiers and the king were close allies.
Which was also why I didn’t trust them one bit.
Then again, Caden had been Markus’s best friend for years.
I didn’t know him well, not when he remained coolly polite, overly formal when he addressed me, and never let a hint of his true feelings show. But…he was Markus’s best friend, and Markus was an excellent judge of character, which had to count for something.
On the other hand…
House Gauthier were the warmongers among our kind, providing soldiers, mercenaries, and assassins to the Darkfell throne. Indirectly, Caden’s father had put Viktor on the throne, by organizing a coup and executing our reigning queen almost a hundred years ago.
Viktor Carpathian had sat on the throne ever since, which meant I had this asshole’s family to thank for my current predicament.
Caden took in my narrowed gaze with an easy smile. Of course, the asshole wasn’t in danger of being fucked and bonded by the king. If he were, I doubted he’d be quite so merry.
“Markus called me, and I happen to be in between conflicts. I thought I’d come around and see if I could help a friend out.” He flashed another easy smile, although Caden didn’t fool me one bit. Behind that boyish face was a stone-cold killer, and I never forgot it. Our previous queen had trusted a Gauthier, and look where that got her.
Dead in a hole.
“What, exactly, can you do to help?” I asked, wondering if my father had agreed to this madness. “Because to my knowledge, no titled female has ever escaped the king’s summons.” I paused. “Well, not entirely.”
Some females, of course, resisted. In return, their families were stripped of everything, then killed, and the girls themselves… Well, I had no intention of becoming one of the king’s carved women.
I liked having my lips, my nose, and my eyelids on my face, not in a jar on Viktor’s mantel, thank you very much.
“My father is tired of these antiquated games.” Caden’s voice stayed perfectly even. “The throne is hemorrhaging money, and Viktor is stirring up trouble with the royal houses. Father believes he can make Viktor see reason.”
“Doubtful. Even your father doesn’t have that much influence.” Over a complete psychopath, I wanted to add, but I didn’t trust Caden as far as I could throw him. I had to be careful not to antagonize Viktor right now, and I suspected he was touchy about his mental state.
“Maybe not, but all of us together”—Caden stepped into the light, where the sun picked out the blond flecks in his long hair—“we might make a compelling argument.”
I sensed Father materialize, wrapped in shadows before he appeared, his face paler than I’d last seen it and lined with worry. Father was an elder vampire. He had served Queen Lyra, before Viktor killed her and took the throne for himself.
“Markus came up with a plan, Tess, one that even the king will have to consider carefully.” He looked so expectant, as if this might actually work.
“We’ll see,” I said, though the mere idea of reprieve was tempting. I’d resigned myself to my fate, but still, just this small glimmer of hope had my heart racing. It’s stupid to get your hopes up when you know there’s no chance of getting out of this mess.
“As long as it keeps else everyone safe, I’ll consider it.” I pulled in a breath. “If it endangers anyone I care about, it’s no deal.” I looked at them, all these men I loved. And Caden, whom I definitely didn’t trust.
“One thing is for sure: nobody in this room is dying for me.”
Chapter Four
Markus
I watched Contessa spit out her terms like she was laying down the law, and indeed, she was. All the men in this room would obey her, no matter what she decided.
“King Viktor is running out of money,” her father, Hugh, explained. “He has exhausted the royal reserves, and word is House Bouderaux has denied him another loan, until he reins in his spending and brings in some revenue for the clan.”
“Go on.”
“With the state of the Carpathian finances, Viktor is growing more desperate, and according to Caden, he would do anything for a quick influx of cash. Markus has come up with a million; the family will contribute another ten. That’s at least… How many years did you calculate?”
Hugh turned to me as I answered, “One year, two months. That amount will fund the throne for a little over one year.”
I held my breath as Contessa considered this. It had taken me weeks to scrape together the million I was contributing, and Hugh had liquidated everything as well. We prayed it was enough to buy Tessa’s freedom from a monster.
> “Where do you come in?” She turned to Caden. “Or do you have a spare million to throw into the pot as well?”
My old friend shook his head, hiding his grin. “No. My father will ask Viktor to pay for the services we provide. Reciprocity hasn’t been done in decades, but there is precedent for such a request. Our house has a longstanding arrangement with the throne, quarterly payments every century, and that time is approaching. My father will merely remind Viktor of his obligations, should he wish to continue using Gauthier soldiers.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why help me, when our families have been naught but acquaintances all these years?”
Caden’s face clouded then, just as quickly, cleared.
I had to hide my grin. She didn’t see it.
She never had.
Caden Gauthier was in love with her, just as much as the rest of us. He’d never displayed his feelings, waiting for Tessa’s hatred of his family to fade. He’d left the country three years ago because of her, confiding in me that he couldn’t stand to be around a female who despised him just for being a Gauthier.
Now he was back to save her.
“I just don’t like to see people get hurt,” my friend, the mercenary, said diplomatically, while I wondered what his body count was up to. “And this way, my family will get paid.”
I didn’t have to guess at Contessa’s opinion of that. The loathing on her face made it perfectly clear.
She turned to Hugh. “Do you really think this will work?” she asked as her father stooped and picked up the letter from the floor. She snatched it out of his hand before he got a good look at it, then tucked it safely beneath her leg.
Caden shot me a look, and I shook my head, warning him to silence. Later, we’d find out what Viktor said—later, once Tessa accepted our proposal and I knew she’d be safe.
“The king is more vulnerable than he’s been in a hundred years,” Caden explained, crossing his arms and leaning against a dainty antique desk, his faded t-shirt and dirty fatigues out of place in the elegant drawing room. “The court is showing signs of rebellion, and without an influx of cash, he will be forced to go to the houses for money, hat in hand.”
Hugh crossed to Tessa and took her hands until she finally looked up at him. “The other houses are in a wait-and-see pattern. No one will dare make a move, but at the moment, this is the best opening we have, darling.”
*.*.*.*
I searched their faces, even Caden’s.
They were telling the truth. After years of fear and hope, there actually might be a way out of this mess. But even so, I couldn’t let them do this.
If it weren’t for the letter tucked beneath me, I might have let out a sigh of relief.
I would have, but Viktor is a lunatic.
If it weren’t for the letter, I’d embrace their efforts for what they were—a golden opportunity to evade the worst thing that would probably ever happen to me. But…Viktor’s damned conditions outlined in his royal missive left me little choice.
“If you spend all your money getting me free, what about Adalia and Madison?” If Father spent all his money, then my sisters—Mads barely thirteen—would never have a chance at evading the king’s demands. While I knew I was strong enough to endure whatever that bastard had planned, sweet, sweet Madison…she’d never survive him.
And Adalia… Just the way Viktor looked at her during the quarterly banquets made my skin crawl.
Father’s face clouded. “We will deal with the girls when the time comes.”
“Would the king spare all three of us?” I asked Caden, since he seemed to have a line on the inner workings of the court. “If he’s as desperate as you say, would eleven million be enough for all of us?”
He instantly shook his head, and my heart sank. “Let’s just figure out how to save you, then we’ll worry about your sisters.” His face remained smooth, that careful mask he always had up around me, but in his voice, I heard the answer clear as a bell.
No, we couldn’t save Mads and Dalia, which meant this whole proposition didn’t work for me. I’d survive Viktor. I’d be damaged afterward, maybe irreparably so, but I’d live. I couldn’t guarantee the same for my sisters.
“Then no.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You save your money for Mads and Dalia. Or maybe the bastard will die before they’re old enough for him to taint. Maybe someone will just kill him and we can be done with this travesty.”
Someone cleared their throat from the door, which had been opened without any of us noticing. On the threshold stood King Viktor, his face glittering with rage as he yanked my sobbing mother into the room by her wrist, his ravenous, red-tinted eyes fixed on me.
“Come now, wife—that’s no way to speak of your betrothed.”
His cruel smile twisted into something obscene.
“Obedience in all things, Contessa. Don’t ever forget it.”
Chapter Five
Contessa
King Viktor Carpathian would have been handsome, if he wasn’t a complete sociopath.
Seeing him here—in my home—his hand banded tightly around my mother’s thin wrist, enraged me. Of course, he would never know that, because along with history lessons and comportment, my tutors had taught me how to hide my thoughts, my every emotion from the royal family.
It was something all of us—except for Rafael—had learned from a very young age. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Markus spring into action, subtly shielding Rafe from the king’s view.
Never let them see you sweat was the human equivalent for how we dealt with the Carpathians. In our world, concealment was a necessity of survival. I was praying Rafael kept his shit together, or the king would be sure to make an example out of him.
My stomach curled in on itself at the thought.
I curtseyed, my nose practically touching the Aubusson rug beneath our feet. “My king,” I murmured, rising only after the required amount of time. He’d released my mother, and she rubbed the bright red band on her arm like it burned as she went to my father. Markus and Rafael closed ranks around me, as did Caden, to my surprise.
“I made the trip all the way out to this shithole to bring you a wedding gift,” Viktor told me coldly. “To see my newest bride, in the flesh.” His eyes narrowed until I couldn’t see them at all. “Imagine my surprise when I find her wishing me dead.”
I kept my mouth shut. The more I tried to hide what I’d said, the guiltier I’d look. Even worse, everyone I loved was in this room, and I’d stupidly put them all in danger. Now it was up to me to keep them safe, which meant making sure Viktor remained focused on me, and me alone.
His long blond hair was tied back, and his finely made suit was all black, as was his custom. Despite my best efforts, I let my gaze stray past him, to the dark hall, praying he hadn’t brought anything other than royal guards with him tonight.
“You brought a gift?” I asked, hoping to appeal to Viktor’s vanity. He did so love his little presentations. At every solstice banquet, he made a big show of awarding house loyalty with a token gift. It was never about the gift itself; it was about the attention he received when he bestowed it. He thrived on applause and attention and adulation.
If I didn’t know he was the eldest, I’d say he was a middle child.
He rose to the bait, clicking his fingers before a servant carried in a box. I glanced through the windows to see workers scattering, cars fleeing the grounds at an alarming pace, everyone rushing to get away from the king.
The man set the wooden container on the table, and I brushed my hand over the carved top, taking my time, drawing this out long enough to distract the king. I shot Father a sideways look—get the girls and hide them away—and he took my mother’s arm as they dematerialized in a swirl of shadow while the king kept his greedy gaze upon me, waiting for me to open the box.
Which could contain anything.
When I was nine, he’d given a similar box to the head of House Bouderaux, at a grand banquet in the palace, f
lowers scenting the air, chandeliers casting their golden glow on the attendees. The elder vampire had flipped open the lid to reveal his son’s head in a pool of blood.
I remember that night so well—the handsome, gray-haired vampire hadn’t so much as batted an eye. He’d closed the lid, bowed, and thanked the king for his generous gift. Then left quickly with his other four sons.
I’d never forgotten any of it—to this day, the smell of lilies made me nauseated—and my hand shook as I raised the lid, praying my sisters were safely hidden away somewhere.
On a sheet of red velvet lay a wide collar, forged from gold and set with rubies as large as my thumb.
Rafael made a noise, which was cut off as Markus elbowed him.
“Do you like it?” Viktor asked softly as I looked down in horror. “I thought the rubies became you.”
I hardly even breathed as he came up behind me and picked the odious thing up, his fingers brushing my throat as he slid it around my neck and clicked it closed at the nape of my neck. He made sure to brush his erection against my bottom, and I endured the offense without moving, gripping the edge of the table like it was the only thing keeping me upright.
“This I keep,” he crooned, showing me the gold key in his palm, before he disappeared it in his pocket. “The necklace is yours, for a time. A reminder of your obligation to your king.”
I dared glance at Markus, his face frozen in horror, Rafael looking so pale I thought he’d pass out, and Caden, with no expression at all. I prayed none of them did anything stupid right now, because if the king slew them, I’d die here, right alongside them.
And I still had two days left to live.
But the only person in the room the king was looking at was Caden. “You are back. I’ll be sure to inform your father of your arrival.”