by Merry Farmer
Asher turned back to him, shoving a hand into one of his pockets. “I’m afraid I have everything to fear, my lord,” he said.
Lord Beverly searched up and down the street once more. “Then you’d best be on your way,” he said. With a quick nod, he ducked back into the palace, shutting the door behind him.
“What is Asher—” Trent started, but Charlotte raised a hand to silence him.
It was a smart move. Asher took another look around, frowning as he glanced up and down the street. He was the picture of a man on edge. Beyond what could be seen, Charlotte sensed a weight of anxiety hovering over the man. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and continued on his way.
Before he could take more than a few steps, something round and shiny dropped from his pocket—a coin. Charlotte was certain he would stop in his tracks and bend to pick it up, but he didn’t seem to realize he’d dropped it. As soon as Asher turned the corner and headed on toward the canal, she peeled away from Trent and scurried to pick the coin up.
“What is it?” Trent asked, catching up to her.
When she straightened from picking up the coin, he rested a hand on the small of her back. A flush of warm energy shot straight up her spine, filling her with confidence. She glanced to him with a smile.
For a moment, they simply stood there, enjoying the connection between them. The real world and the urgency of the situation swooped back in on them all too soon, though.
“It looks like a coin,” Trent said, dragging his eyes away from hers and focusing on the coin. He frowned. “Though it doesn’t look like any currency I’ve ever seen.”
Charlotte forced her attention to the coin, studying it with her eyes and with her other senses. He was right. It wasn’t any sort of currency she was familiar with. In fact, it didn’t seem to be currency at all. It was in the shape of a coin, but instead of containing a portrait of some monarch and numbers denoting a denomination, it was engraved with concentric circles of letters, numbers, and symbols.
“I don’t like the way this feels,” she whispered, her heartbeat racing as she turned the coin over. “It has a bad energy.”
Trent raised his arm from the small of her back to rest on her shoulder, as if holding her close. “What does it feel like?” he asked.
She glanced to him, touched that he would ask such a thing without judgement. “Dangerous,” she said. “As if it has been in the hands of bad men. It has death within it.”
Trent’s expression darkened to a frown. “I’m alarmed that Asher had something like this in his pocket. I’m convinced he’s embroiled in something that is putting us all in danger.”
“You’re right.” She nodded. “He is.”
Trent’s brow inched up. “Do you know what it is?” he asked.
Charlotte shook her head. “But whatever it is, I’m afraid of it.”
The look he gave her was like the bright afternoon sunshine just when she needed it. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I’m here to protect you.” His affectionate smile hardened. “But we need to get to the bottom of this.”
“How?” she asked as he let his arm slip from her shoulders.
He took her hand instead. “We have to get the story straight from the horse’s mouth.” He started forward with her in the direction Asher had disappeared. “We have to find my cousin.”
Chapter 3
It wasn’t as much of a challenge as Trent would have thought to follow Asher through the streets of Venice without catching his cousin’s eye or looking suspicious. The noon sun hung high overhead, beating down on street vendors and musicians, foreign visitors and local dignitaries alike. The deeper Asher strode into the city, the more people there seemed to be, crowding around to take in the sights or going about their own business.
There were so many people that Trent tightened his grip on Charlotte’s hand out of fear of being separated from her. The moment her fingers slid into his, he felt a connection between them that was much more than skin deep. It was almost enough to distract him from their mission. Fate had led him to the beautiful fortune teller, he was sure. He couldn’t explain it, even to himself, but as curious as he was about the fact that Charlotte had rushed out of Lord Beverly’s palace and right into him, he hadn’t been at all surprised to see her again so soon after she’d told his fortune.
“How familiar are you with the city?” he asked as they ducked behind the corner of a building once Asher paused to glance around, as if trying to figure out where he was going.
“I’ve lived here my whole life,” Charlotte answered.
“So you might know where my cousin is headed?” Trent pulled his focus away from Asher to glance questioningly at her.
Charlotte peered around the corner, her lovely face set in a thoughtful frown. Her lips were as pink as berries. He caught himself wondering if they would taste as sweet. But of course they would. Everything about Charlotte was perfection, as far as he could tell. Her expressive, almond-shaped eyes held volumes of mystery and emotion. The pink splashing her soft cheek made him want to caress her to be certain she was real.
She must have felt his amorous observations. Her gaze flickered up to meet his, and the flush on her cheeks deepened. Her smile grew as well, sending Trent’s blood pounding to all of the most inconvenient places in his body. He wanted her. Desperately. The feeling was as captivating as it was inconvenient.
“He’s moving on,” she whispered.
For a moment, Trent wondered whom she was talking about. As soon as the reality of the situation rushed back in on him, he cursed himself and forced himself to pay attention. With a nod, he stepped out of their hiding place and dodged through the milling crowd to keep up their pursuit.
“He could be going anywhere,” Charlotte answered his question as they moved on. “He doesn’t appear to be headed toward the Doge’s Palace or the Basilica di San Marco, but he could be heading for the Grand Canal or the Rialto Bridge.”
“Could he be attempting to leave Venice altogether?” Trent wondered aloud, barely avoiding being hit by a fishmonger’s cart before he and Charlotte dashed over a small bridge spanning a narrow canal.
“No,” Charlotte answered as if she knew what Asher was thinking. “I have no sense that he is attempting to flee. He is….”
She paused. Trent glanced to her as they took shelter against the side of a shop as Asher glanced around once again. He must have known he was being followed. Even from a distance and with the streets and canals packed with people, Asher’s brow was furrowed and his expression serious, as if being followed were something he was used to. It took everything Trent had not to leap out and let his presence be known so that he could demand Asher give him answers. But if his cousin hadn’t been willing to share the danger they were all in during their conversation in Tuscany, or at any point thus far during their stay in Venice, Trent doubted he would be forthcoming now.
As soon as Asher moved on, Trent and Charlotte moved with him.
“He’s doubling back,” Trent observed. “Perhaps he’s headed to the Doge’s Palace after all.”
Charlotte shook her head. “He’s leading us on a chase,” she said, again as though she could read Asher’s thoughts. “He knows we’re following him.”
“That was precisely my thought too,” Trent said, ridiculously pleased that they were thinking the same thing.
Charlotte grinned up at him as they skirted a particularly narrow passage bordering a canal, almost as though the whole thing were a game and they were winning. Indeed, Trent hadn’t felt so young and full of life since his school days. Everything about Charlotte made him feel joyful and carefree, in spite of the danger.
His excitement slammed to a stop as Asher paused once more just shy of another bridge and, once again, looked around. Trent grabbed Charlotte around the waist and yanked her into a tiny alcove along the wall they were skirting. It was the only nook within yards, and if they hadn’t acted fast, Asher would have found them out. As it was, Trent considered it a small
miracle that his cousin didn’t see them.
Asher’s frown deepened. Instead of hurrying on, he thrust a hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and took out a folded bit of paper. He unfolded it, stared at it for a moment, then looked around with a puzzled frown. Though he wasn’t close enough to see for sure, Trent would have bet a fortune that Asher was consulting a map. Perhaps he was genuinely lost instead of trying to shake the people tailing him.
Just as Trent opened his mouth to suggest as much to Charlotte, a woman in simple street clothes, her head covered with a scarf, stepped out of the shadows near the building Asher stood next to. Without breaking stride, the woman walked close to Asher from behind and slipped her hand into his pocket. Trent might have assumed she was an ordinary pickpocket, if not for the woman’s dark hair and eyes and her deeply tanned skin. She didn’t look as though she belonged in Venice. Her movements were too deliberate, and when she withdrew her hand from Asher’s pocket, she broke into a swift walk in the opposite direction.
“The dark lady,” Trent whispered, gripping Charlotte’s hand tighter.
“She is surrounded by veils,” Charlotte said in an eerie voice. “And Death follows her.”
Trent pulled his gaze away from Asher long enough to stare at Charlotte. Her eyes had gone wide, and she stared after the retreating figure of the dark lady as if she couldn’t look away. When Trent glanced back to Asher, he was in motion again, folding up his map, returning it to his pocket, and crossing the bridge, apparently unaware that he’d been robbed.
“Should we go after Asher to let him know what happened or—”
“We must follow the dark lady,” Charlotte said before Trent could finish his question.
He didn’t hesitate. He stepped out of the alcove, still clutching Charlotte’s hand tightly, and hurried along the crowded street. The dark lady was more of a challenge to follow than Asher had been. She not only knew where she was going, she knew every side passage and narrow alley along the way there. It was everything Trent and Charlotte could do to stay out of her line of sight each time she turned a corner. She, too, must have realized she was being followed. She glanced back over her shoulder and looked around ten times as much as Asher did.
“I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep this up,” Trent whispered as the dark lady darted suddenly into a passage that cut between two buildings. “She’ll discover us following in no time.”
Charlotte nodded in agreement, but said nothing. They continued on. Trent completely lost track of where they were in relation to the rest of the city. He was certainly in a part that he’d never been to and, he was certain, that tourists and foreigners rarely visited. Every instinct for danger that he had was on full alert by the time he and Charlotte were forced to squeeze into a partially-concealed doorway when the dark lady finally came to a stop behind a row of ancient houses.
“What is she doing now?” Trent whispered, closing his arms around Charlotte and pulling her flush against his body as the dark lady glanced their way.
He had only just noticed the dark lady taking a leather wallet from a pocket in her dress and opening it when the whisper of Charlotte’s breath against his neck sent every sense he had tumbling into awareness. He turned his head away from the dark lady, shifted his entire body toward Charlotte, and tightened his arms around her. Charlotte blinked once as she gazed up at him, her eyes sparkling.
He couldn't have resisted the force that drew them together, even if he’d wanted to. He bent toward her, capturing her mouth with his and ravishing her with a kiss. She tasted every bit as sweet as he imagined she would be, and her cheek was indeed soft and warm against his hand as he cradled her face. He poured everything he had into his kiss, parting her lips to taste her deeper. Their tongues met, tentatively at first, then with growing urgency.
She hummed, deep and impassioned, and pressed herself against him. It felt as though a whirlwind was consuming them as she closed her arms around him, kissing him back with as much ardor as he had. His whole body sang with need, blood rushing to his cock. And yet, it didn’t feel crude or awkward, not in the least. It was his body’s natural and good reaction to everything that swirled and vibrated between them. He wasn’t the sort of man to take advantage of a woman, but in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to lift Charlotte against the wall, hike up her skirts, undo his trousers, and enjoy her until they both burst with pleasure.
The sound of a sharp curse from the alley behind the houses jerked Trent out of the bliss he’d found in Charlotte’s arms. It was followed a moment later by the slap of something hitting the ground. He broke away from Charlotte, leaving both of them panting and breathless. For a powerful moment, they stared into each other’s eyes. Trent had never felt more alive in his life. But he forced himself to peek out of the doorway to see what the dark lady was up to.
She was gone. In the all-too short time that he and Charlotte had been wrapped up in each other, the dark lady had slipped away. Even though he knew he should, Trent had a hard time regretting her disappearance. It was worth it for that kiss. All the same, he stepped out of the doorway, bringing Charlotte with him.
“Look,” Charlotte said, skipping forward and bending to retrieve Asher’s wallet from the flagstones.
The dark lady had rifled through the wallet, removing its contents. Trent bent to scoop up various bills and a few small coins that the dark lady had scattered. “She wasn’t interested in money,” he said. He scoured the ground, looking for any other slips of paper or anything the dark lady might have wanted to take. Though it dawned on him that if she’d found what she was looking for, she wouldn’t have left that on the ground with the money.
“She sounded angry,” Charlotte said, taking the money Trent handed her and stuffing it back into the wallet. “Whatever she was looking for, she didn’t find it.”
“I agree.” Trent nodded.
“I would be willing to wager she was looking for this,” Charlotte added, pulling the cipher coin Asher had dropped at Lord Beverly’s house from a pocket in her skirt.
“I believe you’re right,” Trent agreed.
“Should we go after her?” Charlotte asked. The way she looked up at him made Trent wonder if chasing after a strange lady who had attempted to rob Asher was truly what she wanted to do.
If he were honest with himself, Trent could think of a thousand things he would rather have done, all of them with Charlotte and none of them out in public where people might see or interrupt. His sense of family duty got the better of him, though.
“I think we have to at least find out who she is and where she’s going,” he said, disappointment filling his voice.
“I agree,” Charlotte said, equally disappointed.
“And we should really return Asher’s wallet as well.”
“We should.”
For a moment, neither of them moved. Trent felt as though some unseen force were pushing the two of them together. More than anything, he wanted to forget everything and pull her into his arms for another kiss. He didn’t think he would ever grow tired of kissing her. He’d never wanted a woman as desperately as he wanted her.
The clatter of a pot being dropped in one of the buildings around them shook him from his thoughts. He let out a breath and reached for Charlotte’s hand. “I’m afraid if we don’t get moving, it’ll be too late,” he said. Though whether he meant too late to catch up to the dark lady or too late to resist the fire building within him, he wasn’t sure.
Charlotte merely nodded and squeezed his hand. He tucked Asher’s wallet into his jacket with his free hand as Charlotte put the coin back in her pocket, and they headed out of the alley at a jog.
The alley let out onto a small street that ran along the edge of a narrow canal. Even though there weren’t many ways the dark lady could have escaped, Trent felt immediately that it would be futile to try to find her now. They’d let too much time lapse. If the dark lady hadn’t sprinted to an entirely different part of the city already, sh
e could have been hiding in any of the tightly-packed houses that lined the canal. There was no way to tell if she’d turned right or left where the alley let out.
“We should head toward the bridge,” Charlotte said, taking the lead and tugging him on. “That way would have given her the most options for escape.”
“You’re right.” Trent nodded and hurried along with her. He had no idea where he was going, but he trusted Charlotte’s instincts on every imaginable level. She knew things that couldn’t be explained. He never would have pegged himself as one to believe in powers beyond the ordinary, but even a few moments in Charlotte’s presence—
Before he could finish his thought, something pummeled into him from the side. Charlotte screamed, her hand slipping out of his. The force of whatever had impacted him sent Trent tumbling to the side, right over the edge of the street, and sent him splashing, head-first, into the canal.
Chapter 4
Charlotte gasped as Trent’s hand slipped out of hers. She’d been so intent on figuring out where exactly they were in the city that she didn’t see the dark figure step out of a sheltered doorway at first. By the time she noticed, the dark lady had already lunged toward Trent, shoulder first, pushing him headlong into the canal.
“Trent!” Charlotte reached for him, but was unable to catch him before he plunged into the water. She nearly lost her balance as his momentum pulled her to the edge of the street.
Her heart thundered in her chest. She had to save Trent from drowning, but that wasn’t her only concern. From her crouched position at the edge of the canal, she glanced up at the dark lady. The woman had the dark skin and kohl-rimmed eyes of someone from the Levant. She waited for only a moment, glancing into the canal to be certain Trent had sunk beneath the surface, before picking up her skirts and sprinting away in the direction Charlotte and Trent had come from.