The Darkest Night Page 12

  Océane took Claudette’s place in the chair with a sigh and shook her head. “They must have gotten held up, that’s all. You’ve sent extra men to the gate to be sure they get back through safely. There’s nothing more you can do. Bram is very capable. Laen says he’s been pretty much living wild the past few years. He’s tough, he’ll get Jean-Pierre back here safely, I know he will.”

  Claudette went to the window and looked out at a day so bleak it felt like winter had settled in her own heart, freezing her feelings with a covering of thick, white terror. It was wet and cold, and utterly miserable, and she well knew that Corin was miserable, too. The thought of it made her heart clench in her chest. “Oui, of course. I know you are right.” She had to believe it because she couldn’t stand the thought of anything else. There was nothing she could do for them, though, other than wait, but Corin ...

  She crossed the room and rang the bell beside the fireplace, and a few moments later and Corin’s butler, Malen knocked and opened the door. “Malen, please tell the guard to ready as many men as they think required for my safety, and a horse for me.”

  Malen gaped at her, clearly torn between obeying and voicing his obvious concerns. “Of course, my lady,” he said, looking like he’d rather walk barefoot over hot coals. “But … where am I to tell them you are going?”

  “Aos Si.” Claudette replied, her voice defiant as the colour left the poor man’s face in a rush. He swallowed and gave a taut nod, and Claudette pitied the man who would be sent to try and dissuade her.

  ***

  “Well, I’m afraid I can’t promise it won’t scar.”

  Bram watched as the witch looked down at her work with satisfaction. “Such a shame,” she added, pursing her lips as she ran her fingers down Bram’s chest, across his abs to circle his belly button. She chuckled as he shivered, and Bram wasn’t sure whether revulsion, fear, or desire was the reason for the way his skin prickled under her touch. “A pity to mar such perfection.”

  “It’s not the first time I’ve been shot,” he said, wanting to change the subject and get her away from him. “But it just grazed me last time, I wasn’t this ill.”

  Inés nodded, her fingers still drawing seductive patterns across his stomach, making his skin tighten. It was all he could do not to leap off the bed away from her. She was terribly beautiful, but he could feel the power rolling off of her in waves and he didn’t like the covetous look in her green eyes. Yet he could feel his own magic tingling under his skin in response to her touch and his jaw clenched, resisting the urge to let it free, to give into her blatant invitation. He knew the rumours about her kind and his, he knew well she would have reasons for wanting him, and he didn’t trust her an inch.

  As if reading his mind, she leaned close to him, her breasts brushing his side, her lips so close he could feel her breath, warm against his neck.

  “Alors, you know what they say about our kind,” she said, her voice low and seductive, making him shiver with desire even though he wanted nothing more than to run. “Our magics are so similar that when we are close, they bind together, entwined like lovers.” Her lips brushed his ear and he sucked in a breath, holding onto his sense of self-preservation by his fingertips. “It makes things very ... interesting.”

  As she spoke, he felt the magic rise between them, wrapping around his senses, hers so powerful it was almost visible in the dim light of the bedroom. He shook his head to try and clear it, and shifted away from her. “But as you’ve said yourself, I have very little magic,” he said, unsettled by the husky quality of his own voice. “I am hardly worth your while.”

  She chuckled again, a rich sound that made his senses prickle with alarm as her eyes swept over him, her expression making no secret of just what she had in mind. “Oh, I don’t think I would say that,” she murmured, her green eyes full of heat and amusement. “Though it’s true, after tasting your prince …” She gave a longing sigh and shook her head. “Well, I admit, nothing has ever measured up since.” Bram snorted with amusement at this and Inés raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “I’m not,” he replied, his tone dark as he wondered if Corin was actually out of his bloody mind. How could he? But then, before Claudette came along, there was little that Corin wouldn’t have done for the thrill of it. “Corin always did enjoy playing with snakes,” he said, hoping that perhaps if he insulted her, she’d be less interested in toying with him. “I’m afraid you’d find me a dull companion after his attentions, his tastes have always been far broader than mine, after all. A little pain, a little danger ... No, not to my taste, I leave such perilous passions for others to enjoy.”

  She leaned closer still and put her hands flat on his chest, one finger caressing a nipple with slow, deliberate movements. “Oh, rather more than a little,” she whispered in his ear. “But he didn’t seem to mind.”

  Bram willed his heart to stop beating so hard under her hands and scowled. “Well, I am afraid I would be certain to disappoint you, I don’t like the kind of games I think you would have in mind.”

  The green eyes glittered as they met his and he felt a thrill of fear and desire as her hands smoothed down over his chest once more. “But you forget, you owe me a favour now,” she said, giving him a smile that promised too many unspoken things that he felt sure he would regret. “And besides, I don’t think you have any idea what you like. Not yet.”

  Before things could go any further, Ameena barged into the room carrying a bowl of hot water, and Bram could have kissed her, he was so grateful for the interruption. She took one look at him with Inés, and no doubt interpreted the panic in his eyes. Her expression darkened as she glared at Inés. “Here’s your hot water.”

  “Oh, take it away.” Inés gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I don’t need it. I just wanted you out of the way.” She laughed at the outrage on Ameena’s face and turned back to Bram with a smile. “Well, then, the wound is healed but the effects of the lead are something else. You are likely to tire easily for the next few days. I’m going to make you a tonic, which will help you get your strength back.” She got to her feet and gave him a knowing smile. “You’re going to need it.”

  Chapter 11

  Claudette hurried back inside Bertulf house as an icy wind tugged at her skirts. Her cheeks were flushed both from the biting cold and as a result of the furious row she’d just had with the captain of the guard. She bit back a grin, almost pitying the poor man, who was now likely to get it in the neck from Corin for having given in to her. “Rock” and “hard place” were words that sprang to mind, but there was too much at stake for her to lose, and as the guard could not take steps to keep her a prisoner, they would be forced to leave when she did. As she’d made it abundantly clear she would go with or without them, and as there was no one here to overrule her, they really didn’t have a choice.

  Removing her cloak and handing it over to Malen with a smile, she made her way back to Corin’s library to find Carla and Océane trying to tempt Corin’s devoted dog, Cerberus, to eat.

  “He still hasn’t eaten anything?” Claudette asked, looking at the little dog with an anxious expression as she moved to stand by the fire.

  “Not a bite.” Océane shook her head, her eyes full of sadness.

  Claudette sighed and crouched down as the little dog’s soulful brown eyes flickered to look at her. “Alors, Cerberus, I’m going to see your master, want to come?” A glimmer of interest lit its eyes, and Claudette wondered what exactly the creature understood. She tried again. “Want to come see Corin, boy?” There was a scuffle of movement and Claudette stumbled, landing in a flurry of skirts on her behind as Cerberus threw himself at her. “Ooof!” She clutched the wriggling bundle, grinning as he licked at her chin and whined, squirming with delight at the prospect of being reunited with Corin.

  “You’re really going, then?” Océane said, and Claudette could hear the troubled mix of concern and longing in her voice. She felt sure that Océane would be com
ing, too, if not for the baby.

  Claudette nodded, hoping her smile was self-assured and confident and hid the fact that she was utterly terrified. “I used the same argument that worked with Bram. If he didn’t come, I’d go by myself. Short of tying me up and putting me under guard, which I suggested would not be a wise course of action for their future queen, there wasn’t much he could do about it.”

  “Poor fellow.” Océane smiled and then gave a heavy sigh. “I wish I could come, too.”

  “Don’t you even think about it,” Océane’s friend, Carla, scolded her. “As if you don’t have enough to worry about in your condition.”

  Claudette put Cerberus down, and he began to dance around and yip, desperate to leave. She embraced Océane, laying a gentle hand over Océane’s own, upon her stomach. She shook her head. “You’re carrying precious cargo, remember? Laen would never forgive me if I let anything happen to you; come to that, neither would Corin,” she said, kissing her friend’s cheek. “You must take care and hold the fort for me here.”

  Océane hugged her back, her eyes glittering with tears of concern. “Please, please be careful, Claudette, if anything happens to you ... well, you know Corin couldn’t be without you.”

  Claudette nodded, smiling, knowing this was true. “Yes, I know, and that’s why I have to go.” She hugged Carla, too, and went to the door with Cerberus dancing merrily at her heels. “I have to get some things together before I leave. Take care, girls, and au revoir.”

  ***

  Bram gave his shoulder an experimental stretch, rolling his arm.. It was still a bit stiff, but the excruciating pain was gone. He sighed with relief, though the gods alone knew what he had gotten himself into by offering to be in debt to Inés, but at least he could get on and get Jean-Pierre back to Claudette.

  One problem at a time.

  He got out of bed and stretched, enjoying the feeling of his muscles moving after so long in bed. His life was an active and physical one as a rule, and he had never been the indolent type. Sitting around with nothing to occupy him was his idea of hell. He braced his hands behind his neck, groaning with relief as he stretched both shoulders and his chest, and turned as he did so to see Ameena had come into the room and was watching him with wide eyes. Keeping the smirk from his face with care, he smiled at her instead as she rearranged her face, her grey eyes returning to the usual wary expression that she seemed to wear around him. He’d seen the previous look in her eyes clearly enough, though. Despite his best intentions, knowing she desired him made a satisfied smile flicker around his mouth.

  “Oh, get over yourself,” she said, sounding as ticked off as ever. “I take it you’re feeling better?”

  He nodded, grinning at her irritation. “Much.”

  “Well, good,” she muttered. She hesitated for a moment, her arms wrapped about herself and Bram wondered what she looked so uneasy about. “Look, I’m sorry if what I did wasn’t what you needed. I didn’t know what else to do.” She looked at him, like she wanted to say more and then changed her mind. She looked at the T-shirt she held in her hand and threw it down on the bed. “Jean-Pierre gave you that to wear. I’m afraid your shirt is ruined.” She turned to leave and Bram grabbed hold of her arm, stopping her.

  “Whoa, there,” he said, his voice soft. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel she’d done nothing to help him. It was unfair, and totally untrue. “You saved my life, Ameena, I won’t forget that. Inés was out of line.” He moved his hand, taking hers and holding it, his thumb stroking her palm as he looked into those troubled grey eyes. There was always such defiance there, but behind the façade she was afraid, vulnerable. Bram felt certain it was true, and his protective instincts rushed to the fore. “You were very brave to help me at all. I could have been dangerous to you, and if you had sat back and done nothing, I would certainly have bled to death. I owe you a great debt,” he said, infusing his voice with warmth and sincerity. “And I will happily do anything in my power to repay you.”

  To his surprise, she blushed and lowered her eyes. “You’re welcome,” she said, sounding uncharacteristically uncertain, staring at their linked hands with an expression he couldn’t read. “I ... I’m glad you're OK.” She looked up at him, something that might have been sorrow in her eyes that made his heart hurt. He had noticed before that when she wasn’t angry, she looked lost and alone. "I suppose that means you'll be leaving now?" she said, the words rather faint.

  “Yes,” he replied, wondering if she regretted that fact as much as he did.

  Ameena nodded but said nothing, and he let her hand go. She went to leave, and then hesitated and turned back around. “Do you mean that, about repaying me?”

  Bram frowned. “Of course,” he said. He may have lost his honour in the eyes of the people of his world, but it still meant something to him. “I give you my word of honour, if there is anything you would have of me, I will gladly do as you desire,” he said, meaning it with all his heart.

  “You promise?”

  There was something in her eyes that made him pause, sensing trouble, but he could hardly go back on it now. “In my world, honour is everything. A man without honour is shunned. He ceases to exist in society.” He wondered if she could hear the bitterness behind his words but he held her gaze as he spoke. “I have given you my word and I will keep it.”

  "OK,” she said, sounding nervous as she stepped back towards him. “In that case, there is something."

  He frowned, suddenly wondering what she was up to and strongly suspecting he wasn’t going to like it. "Very well,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “What is it?"

  She put her chin up, the grey eyes stormy and determined. "I want you to take me with you."

  His eyebrows shot up and he blinked at her. For a moment the idea appealed to him, the idea of showing her his world, and then reality hit hard. "Are you out of your mind?” he demanded, wondering if she’d listened to a word he’d said about the trouble in their land. “Our world is at war, Ameena. Do you have any understanding of what that means? People are dying!” He let out a breath and shook his head, terrified at the idea of what could happen to a human woman with no magic. “No. I will not take you into that."

  She glared at him, folding her arms, her eyes glinting with anger now. "Well, your precious Claudette is there, isn't she?" she demanded.

  Bram flushed, wishing the girl wasn’t so bloody perceptive. "She is not my anything! She is the future queen and she is well protected. You would not be."

  "Oh, I see," she said, shaking her head and sneering at him. "There I was, thinking you were some big, fearless warrior. I guess I was mistaken."

  He laughed and shook his head, knowing exactly what she was playing at now. "Oh no, you will not rile me into taking you." He watched as her expression hardened, the storm in her eyes growing colder.

  "No, you won't do anything, will you?” she said in disgust. “You’re a typical bloody man. You're all talk. All that flannel about bloody honour, and when push comes to shove, you won't do it because you don't want to!"

  Bram clenched his fists, furious with himself for not choosing his words more carefully and even more furious with her for being so damned pig-headed. "Ameena, listen to me, I am trying to protect you. Why on earth would you want to come, in any case? You know nothing of our world. Why would you want to leave everything behind?"

  She snorted and suddenly he saw desperation in her eyes, a pleading for understanding. "Oh yes,” she cried, holding her arms wide open and gesturing around her. “Why would I want to watch you and Jean-Pierre go to another world and leave me behind? After all, this one is so fucking sweet!” Her eyes glittered too brightly, and with remorse, he realised she was trying not to cry. “Look around you, Bram. I ran away from my life to this." She waved towards the peeling wall paper and dirty windows. "I was so desperate that I came back to the only place I've ever been happy, but I was as stupid as ever and, as usual, I didn't think it through. I'm alone here. I've no money
, no job ..." Her voice broke and she turned away, obviously angry at herself for allowing her emotions to get the better of her.

  Bram sighed, wishing he didn’t feel so torn and with his heart aching for all of her troubles. He had felt from the start that her tough, brittle exterior was nothing but that, a hard shell protecting a far softer interior. There was a growing part of him that wanted to break down those walls, to show her that trusting people wasn’t always a mistake. But she really didn’t know what she was getting into and he was afraid to take her into further trouble than she already had. He moved closer, putting his hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension she carried there as he turned her around.

  "Ameena,” he said, his voice softer now as he saw the misery in her expression. “Can't you see that you are doing it again, acting without thinking?"

  She looked up at him and suddenly he could see that vulnerability that she hid from everyone else, clear as day, shining in her eyes. "But I have thought about this, Bram," she said, stubborn as ever. "I have thought of nothing else and I want to go with you. Please. You're taking Jean-Pierre, why not me?"

  Bram sighed, wishing he knew what to say, what to do for the best. "I was sent to fetch him because he is in danger here. It is my job to protect him, not to go around and pick up waifs and strays and lead them into a war." He knew at once that he’d said the wrong thing, even though he hadn’t meant it that way, not exactly.

  The grey eyes flashed with anger, all trace of vulnerability vanished in an instant. "I can take care of myself. You wouldn't need to look out for me."

  He rolled his eyes at that, wishing she had the slightest idea what she was talking about. "In a world ruled by magic?” he demanded with indignation, wondering at the girl’s ability to make his emotions flip. One minute he wanted to kiss her, the next shake her until her teeth rattled. It was infuriating. “You’re human, you don't have the first clue."