Read Colorblind (Moonlight) Online

Authors: Violette Dubrinsky

Colorblind (Moonlight) (25 page)

BOOK: Colorblind (Moonlight)
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***

It took five days for Penny’s heat to run its course, and during that time, Leon took her on every available surface in his chambers. He’d stripped the bed countless times from the beginning of her heat, replacing the sheets with fresh ones that Étienne brought to him early in the morning before the slaves rose.

Her first heat had not been an easy one. Coupled with the burning of her body, the stifling Louisiana temperatures had not been welcome. The one consolation was the fact that the water from the pipes had been cold. When he hadn’t been inside her, Penny had been soaking in the large tin tub, though not for very long. He’d allowed her to soak for a few minutes before pulling her out and toweling her dry. Leon feared her catching a cold or fever. He’d also taken to soaking towels and draping them across her as that seemed to relieve her just as well, without making him fear for her health.

Now, seated in his study as Étienne informed him of the events that occurred while he was indisposed, Leon felt bone-weary tired, agitated and slightly amused.

Apparently everyone but Hyacinth had believed Penny had been loaned to Abigail Hodgkins. Or at least, everyone but Hyacinth had kept their suspicions to themselves. The old woman had told Étienne outright she didn’t believe for one second Leon Arnaud had loaned Penny anywhere, and if Étienne didn’t tell her truthfully if Penny was safe, he’d die a slow and painful death come morning. Étienne, of course, had charmed the older woman and convinced her that Penny was safe. She’d seemed to accept that answer grudgingly.

And to make matters even more interesting, Abigail Hodgkins had arrived on Leon’s doorstep. Étienne told him that story with both a smile and then a slight frown. Apparently, Jolie had asked the woman about Penny before Étienne got to her, and Abigail had been confused.

“How old is she anyway?”

“Abigail?”

“No, Jolie. She acts like a child. Moping and whining with her constant need for attention.” He broke off abruptly and ran his hand through his hair. “It’ll be a miracle if I don’t strangle her on the journey back.”

Leon passed him an amused glance and replied, “Possibly seventeen to twenty.”

Étienne snorted. “She is more immature than any seventeen-year-old human I’ve met.”

Leon was tempted to ask just how many seventeen-year-old humans Étienne knew, but sobered at the seriousness of the situation. Penny was upstairs sleeping. She was in recovery. However, soon she would have to leave with Étienne for Armand’s plantation in Virginia.

“If Penny can travel tomorrow, you’ll leave in the morning. If not, you’ll leave the next day, at dawn.”

Étienne eyed him carefully before asking, “Do you know if she—?”

“I don’t and it would be best if I don’t find out until she’s left,” Leon interrupted. It was too early to tell if Penny had conceived. She smelled of honeysuckle and fading heat. Nothing else. A part of him wanted it to be so, wanted the knowledge that she was carrying a part of him even as she left him, but the other part, the rational part, wanted her safe first and foremost, and her traveling a great distance with his seed in her belly would erode her natural strength and make her vulnerable to attacks.

“I understand.”

Leon didn’t answer, and was about to dismiss Étienne when his brother asked, a curious expression on his face. “How did you know Penny was yours?”

The question caught him off guard, but Leon answered honestly. “The pull. When I saw her, I was…pulled to her, as if she was something I had to have to live.”

Étienne nodded and the expression faded in place of a slightly mocking smile. “I’ve not been bit by the mating bug, though the rest of you seemed to have succumbed to it.”

Leon arched a brow. Sebastian was mated, as was he, but Armand…?

As if hearing the silent question, Étienne scoffed. “Why do you think I have orders to bring Jolie to his plantation? He wants to please her.”

“Julia?”

His brother nodded. “Yes.” At his questioning looked, Étienne added, “He fears mating her as she is human, but he does everything else to make sure she is comfortable and happy.” His expression became surly once more. “Including making me travel thousands of miles with a whiny brat.”

Leon grinned at his brother’s plight. He couldn’t remember a time Étienne had been so agitated over a female. The fairer sex usually loved him, and he them. “I’m assuming you’re not referring to my mate.”

Étienne blinked and narrowed his eyes. His brother slowly retreated until he was standing by the door. A bright smile lit his face. “I forgot to mention I’m also traveling with an angel with chocolate-colored skin, gorgeous lips, and laughing eyes. I’m sure she’ll keep my mind off of the whini—”

Before his brain could tell his body Étienne was goading him, Leon had jumped from the chair with a snarl, and was heading for his brother, who promptly fled, shutting the door behind him. Leon thought of chasing him down, but by that time, his control had returned. Inhaling deeply, he made his way from the study, but instead of following Étienne’s retreating scent, he walked back to his chambers. What little time he had left with his mate, he wanted to spend with her.

***

He knew the moment she stepped in front of his door.

Armand had just finished reading a missive from one of his contacts in Pennsylvania, alerting him that slave-catchers, essentially unscrupulous criminals who were paid to drag runaways across state lines, had been swarming his area. Even those who’d found sanctuary in free states could be beaten and taken back to their owners. He’d encountered two slave catchers in his lifetime. Both were now dead. Armand felt little sympathy for men who took pleasure in beating, raping, and degrading others for the sake of “work”.

Still, if slave-catchers were in Pennsylvania, they were looking for slaves. He couldn’t risk taking his wards through that area as well. The men who auditioned for the job were suspicious by nature, and a large group of slaves traveling north, regardless of company and reason, would be noticed. His other option was bypassing all of the states and taking them from Virginia directly to Canada, by sea. He’d done that before, with a smaller group of slaves, but stowing twelve slaves aboard a ship that docked in various states prior to reaching Canada was tricky. He had contacts with a few captains who could be bought, but he disliked relying on men who did not support his cause.

The knock at the door brought his attention back to Julia. He called for her to enter, and she came in with a little smile. She’d been doing that more and more of late. Smiling. Her hair was pulled into a slack, careless bun she seemed to like, and she wore another of the gowns he’d given her. This one was a gray piece a few shades lighter than the color of her eyes.

“You finish wit’ your dinner, Massa?” she asked softly, walking into the room until she stood directly before him.

Armand looked to the tray next to him and nodded.

She moved to his side, and leaned down to pick it up. At that moment, Armand turned his head, bringing them the closet they’d been since she’d tried to use her body to bargain with him. Her eyes widened in fear, but her pupils dilated in—his nostrils flared—
need
. Instantly, blood rushed to his groin as he lowered his gaze to her lips.

Julia licked them, and he bit back a groan, before returning his gaze to hers. Her breathing had grown shallow and quick, but she hadn’t retreated, run from his office, as he expected. As he both wanted and feared. She was looking directly at him, anticipation and need holding her in place.

“Julia,” he began hoarsely.

Her lashes fell against her cheek as she looked to his lips before slowly lifting her gaze to his again.

Armand felt his control snap. Like a brittle twig under a well-made boot, it broke. His lips were on hers in the next instant even as he told himself to be gentle, to go slowly. He kissed her slowly, licking and nibbling at her lips until she parted them with a sigh. As he slid his tongue into her mouth, he finally allowed a groan to break free.

She tasted of strong wine, and like it, she made his head light. Her tongue hesitantly pressed against him, proving her innocence despite what had been done to her.

He pushed his chair back and stood, lips still attached to hers, knowing the position would soon grow uncomfortable for her. As soon as he was standing, she pushed closer, whimpering slightly when her breasts came into contact with his chest. Her nipples were budded under the material, and from the scent rushing his nose, he knew that she was wet for him. Instantly, he felt the urge to rip the dress to shreds, lift her onto the table, spread her thighs apart, and take her. Armand resisted it. He had to go slow. Hell, he should be stopping altogether.

His wolf howled in agitation as he instead traced kisses along her smooth cheek and down her neck. Her hands moved to his shoulders, gripping them as she panted. Her hips surged forward, bringing her into contact with the hardness jutting from beneath his trousers, and she shrieked. As quickly as her arousal came, it went. Fear overrode it. She jumped back from him and he released her, watching for her next move.

She wanted to flee. He could read it in her eyes, her body language. Instead, she looked at him and said hoarsely, “I take your tray now, Massa.”

Armand nodded stiffly, and she quickly reached for the tray. Before she could run from him as she wanted, he caught her arm in a gentle grip. Pure terror radiated from her at the action, but he kept his hold and said solemnly, “I will never hurt you. You have nothing to fear from me. Ever.”

With that he released her, and she quickly widened the distance between them. In a matter of seconds, she’d left the room. Armand watched the door for long moments before moving over to a window. Dusk had fallen, and it was dark out.

He shouldn’t have kissed her. She was human. She’d been ill-treated in the worst possible ways. She was terrified of him.

He ran a hand over his face.

But she’d also tasted of strawberries, one of his favorite fruits. She kissed to seduce and entrance without even knowing it. She wanted him, and he wanted her. It would happen again if something did not change, and Luna help them both if it did.

Chapter Sixteen

As the horse-drawn wagon made its way along the dark dirt road, Penny closed her eyes and sighed. Shackles were attached to both her hands and feet, and though they were not tight, and could be easily broken, she wanted them off. She wanted to break them, leave the wagon, and go back to Leon, but she wouldn’t. She understood the danger too well. And although Leon had not voiced it, she’d been in his mind enough to know that he feared for any child they might have created.

She drew her knees closer to her body as a chill ran down her body. It was not cold, simply cool, so she decided it must be a reaction to leaving Leon.

Are you well?

The sound of his voice in her mind relaxed her slightly, and she nodded before realizing Leon couldn’t see her.

Yes.

Where are you?

She scanned the area, seeing that they were approaching the main road that would take them into the midst of the town. By the time they arrived there, the sun should have risen.

As Penny told him the location, the sound of soft weeping touched her ear. She blinked and turned to her side, where a crying Jolie sat. Despite her dislike of the girl, Penny couldn’t help but feel for her as she tried and failed to keep her cries silent. When Jolie had been told that she was leaving the plantation, she hadn’t taken it well. In fact, she’d thrown herself at Leon’s feet and begged to stay.

When Étienne had picked her up and taken her to wagon, she’d begged him as well. Already in the wagon, Penny had caught bits and pieces of what she’d been saying but everything seemed to lead back to Julia. She didn’t want to leave because of Julia. Julia would come for her. How was Julia to know where to find her if she left?

Without thinking, she reached out her hand and gently placed it on Jolie’s shoulder. The younger woman started violently and turned watery eyes on her before she promptly began to cry once more, and this time, the sobs were louder.

“Quiet,” Étienne bit out from his place at the helm of the wagon.

“Please.” Jolie’s words were mere whispers at first, but like her sobs, they, too, grew louder. “Anythin’ you want, I give. Please don’ take me.”

“Shh,” Penny quieted, sensing from Étienne’s agitation that it was imperative they complete this journey in silence. When that did not work, she tightened her grip on Jolie’s shoulder and spoke calmly, but firmly, “Stop crying, Jolie. Maybe we’re being sent to the same place as your sister.”

She hadn’t bothered to speak the slang of the yard, but Jolie didn’t seem to notice. She lifted her reddened face and looked up at her. “You think so?”

Penny was about to respond when Étienne’s voice, low and firm, stopped her. “Get down, Penny.”

“What?” She jerked as a mosquito bit into her neck. “Ow!”

She reached the side of her neck, intent on swatting the parasitic insect, only to find something else.

As her fingers closed in on it, and her brain tried to figure out what it was, her world shifted. Before she knew what was happening, her cheek was against the wood floor of the cart. Someone was screaming in the background, but the person seemed far away. A male voice overrode the other. Her lids felt heavy so she closed them. Something clicked. Arms pushed under her body and she forced her lids open. Étienne.

His lips moved. What was he saying? Her lids fell again. There was silence.

***

Étienne had barely heard the swish of the traveling dart before it lodged in Penny’s neck. Whatever was in it was strong because seconds later, she’d slumped over, unconscious, but not dead. Her heart still beat steadily, if a bit slowly.

Jolie began screaming, and he entered the makeshift cell and quickly pulled Penny out. As he laid Penny down in a thicket of bushes, he considered leaving Jolie, but couldn’t bring himself to. So he broke her shackles, ignoring the terror in her eyes, and threw her over his shoulder. He quickly rushed back to where he’d hidden Penny, among the tall grasses away from the dirt road, and put Jolie down. Before she could speak, he pressed his hand against her mouth and whispered directly into her ear, “If you so much as breathe heavily, I will kill you myself. Do you understand me?”

BOOK: Colorblind (Moonlight)
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