Authors: Jennifer Bene
She shrugged to herself and said, “and then Eltera took me, and I felt like I belonged with
her
, with all of my new sisters, and I never even thought about having more, about having someone in my life, because I was perfectly happy.” Fae stopped talking and swallowed, her fingers pulling at the sheet in a nervous pattern.
Kiernan’s stomach took a dive and he suddenly felt sick because he knew what event had happened next in her life, and he wanted to stop the conversation and return to the things she had said that had given him hope, but she started talking again.
She spoke so quietly that if they hadn’t been silent he might not have heard her. “Then all those potential choices were taken away from me, and it didn’t matter.”
It hurt him to see her in pain, and he wanted to grab her and hug her and swear to her that it would never be like that again, but he wasn’t even sure his touch was still welcome right now. After all, he
was
Laochra. He had been on the battlefield the day her life was torn apart, and he’d done nothing to stop it. In fact, he didn’t even really remember that day.
He wasn’t sure it would have been possible to feel sicker, but he did.
Fae took a breath suddenly and his eyes moved back to her, but her gaze stayed down. There were tiny drops on the sheet she had pulled into her lap. “After all that? After this life I’ve lived? I didn’t think I had that as an option, I didn’t think anyone would think I was worthy of that. Ever. And no one ever has.”
Kiernan’s jaw clenched tight, and part of him wanted to find the people who had made her feel this way, the ones that were still alive anyway, and beat them into the ground. He would prove to her she was worth more than anything else on earth, no matter
what
he had to do. She rolled a shoulder and glanced up at him before continuing.
“I focused on protecting as many people as I could, and not caring about myself. It was easier if I didn’t care what happened. Easier to feel good about myself if I was shielding someone weaker, because at least I had a purpose. But then
you
tried to protect me. You cared enough to try. You came and got me out of the snow, took me away from those guards, and Butler, and that house. And I can’t stop thinking about the girls I left there. I keep having nightmares about them, about what’s happening to them – but I can’t go back. I feel horrible, but I don’t
want
to go back.” She sighed, “I couldn’t help them anyway, and you –”
His eyes widened and she flinched as if her words hurt her.
“You’re so kind to me, and it’s been so long since anyone treated me like this. You bought me clothes, and insisted that I eat, and you still understood all of my paranoid concerns. You didn’t push me to do anything, you agreed with every idea I had – you even let me try to drive your
car
.” A smile flitted over her lips and the relief from it made him let out a quick laugh at the memory of her almost crashing his Land Rover into the building. Her eyes lifted and met his and he could see they were shining, but her smile didn’t slip this time. “You took care of me, but you didn’t treat me like I was breakable… and you’re a good person, Kiernan.” That made him pause, a few weeks of being good hardly made up for lifetimes of wrong.
“Fae, I’m not –” Kiernan stopped when she reached forward and grabbed his hand.
“Our circumstances aren’t what I’m talking about. We’ve had two thousand years of bad circumstances. I’m talking about who you are at your core. I’m talking about the person who starts gardens, and gives kids scholarships, and helps people load their cars at the store. The kind of person that risks his life, and everything he’s known, to save one of the only people in the world he should have never, ever saved.” She shifted her legs underneath her and kneeled so she sat a little higher than him. Their fingers were intertwined and they squeezed each other’s hands. “
That’s
the guy I decided to kiss last night, the guy who I really wish would relax his gentlemanly qualities for a few minutes – or for an hour or two.” They both laughed and she leaned closer to him. “
That’s
what you’ve done to deserve this, Kiernan, and I’m trying to deserve you too.”
Kiernan leaned forward and kissed her, and she kissed him back, but it was like a seal on their conversation and not a kiss that stoked the fire between them. The kiss was an agreement that they had both laid it all out on the table and they were both still there, still in it, and he had no plans of going anywhere, because as much as he made her feel normal, Fae made him feel
human
.
“You know, I’m really trying to deserve you too, to deserve all of this, because I feel the same way. Which is why I’m taking you to dinner, and maybe a movie. That’s what the mortals do these days.”
“A date?” Fae brushed a hand under one of her eyes, before she sat back on her heels and smiled at him.
“Yes, Glowworm, a date.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ráj Manor, Caledon, Ontario
The heir to the manor had arrived with absolutely no notice the evening before. Nikola’s only son, Marik, had shown up in a hired limousine that almost hadn’t made it up the main drive through the falling snow. He hadn’t called ahead and hadn’t warned anyone.
Butler had carefully planned how the introductions would go with Marik. He had spent the last
two weeks
working out how to make it as perfect as possible, to show the new master of the house that Butler was indispensable.
Things had
not
gone to plan.
When Marik had walked through the front door he had unfortunately been seen by one of the guards who hadn’t worked at the manor the last time Nikola’s son had visited – so the idiot actually asked Marik who he was. Apparently, Marik had laughed. Then he had looked in on the parlor where the contractor’s men were still finishing repairs, and when he went to walk up the stairs Annika had almost run into him carrying a basket of laundry. Thankfully, he had sidestepped her without incident and headed up the stairs.
Annika would have earned more than a few cane stripes if she had upset the new master of the house. It was only after that disastrous arrival that Butler had been able to respond to the message over the radio that the man who had come through the front door was, in fact,
the
heir
, the new master, Marik.
The expletives Butler had streamed from his mouth as he’d rushed from the guards’ quarters towards the front of the house were harsh enough to peel paint. He found Marik with his feet propped up on his father’s pristine desk, smoking a black cigarette, and flicking ash directly onto the smoothly polished wood.
Marik had grinned and acknowledged Butler, but as soon as Butler had launched into his rehearsed welcome speech Marik had stopped him with a raised hand. He had refused to listen to any
business talk
and just wanted to know where the twins were, and which bedroom he could use. Butler had begrudgingly shown him both and promptly had the door slammed in his face.
So, Butler’s evening had been spent with his now constant friend – whiskey. A lot of whiskey. And at some point, enough whiskey that he’d passed out.
It was after eight the next morning when Thompson woke him up, but he was smart and was well out of arm’s reach while yelling Butler’s name over and over. When he finally woke up he had thrown something across the room at him, which had unfortunately missed. A shower, a shave, a handful of pills knocked back with more whiskey, and a change of clothes later and he was ready to check on the house.
Contractors were finishing the parlor, today should be the last day. Lena was keeping the girls on their chores and keeping them on the mend from their
interviews
. And there was one sleeping prince.
Around one o’clock Butler heard over the radio tucked in his ear that Marik was awake, and waiting in Nikola’s, no, now it was just
the
office. This time when Butler stepped inside he did a double-take that Nikola wasn’t the one sitting there poring over documents with a laptop open on the corner, and papers spread across the lacquered top. It was Marik’s black cigarette being tapped into an empty coffee cup, that reminded Butler who was sitting in the chair that had almost been his. Then he looked up and grinned at Butler as he raised his hands, stretching them behind his head.
“Morning, Butler.” Marik’s dark brown eyes were daring him to correct him about the time, but Butler wasn’t taking the bait.
“I thought you might tell us when you were ready to start the day so we could talk to you about the house and catch you up to date.” Butler let the door click shut behind him before striding forward to the chairs tucked neatly in front of the massive desk.
“Are you referring to updating me on the parlor repairs? They seem to be almost complete by my check yesterday. Or potentially the girls? I’m quite sure
Lena
is the one keeping that section in hand, as always. Could you be referring to my father’s death? Between the lawyers, the autopsy report, and a little fill-in-the-blanks session with Sobeska and Zofie last night – I’m quite aware that he was murdered, likely through supernatural means. And, speaking of that, you might be referring to the girl who is currently missing in action? Fae? Well, it seems no one knows anything about
that
. So, perhaps you
could
catch me up to date on that little detail.” Marik smiled calmly, his voice had stayed flat and professionally cold, just like his father’s always had. Despite his party-boy persona, his extravagant spending patterns, and his less-than-tasteful free time preferences, he was still Nikola’s son.
Butler’s fist clenched as he gripped the back of the heavy chair and pulled it back from the desk. He twisted it at an angle before sitting down heavily. His jaw creaked with the strain of his clenched teeth and he forced himself to relax.
“You seem quite well informed for someone who spent the last few weeks moving so quickly through Eastern Europe and South Asia that the lawyers almost gave up reaching you.” Butler forced himself to smile, not wanting to lose the game before it even started, but it felt more like a grimace through the tension of his face.
“I got the first message when they sent it, and every one after that. I just wasn’t ready to return quite yet.” Marik allowed smoke to trickle out of his mouth as he spoke and punctuated the statement by blowing a stream into the air. Nikola had never smoked outside of the parlor.
“You’re here now, that’s what matters. As far as the missing whore, we have a lead in the house right now – a guest from the night of the Winter Dinner who had quite an interest in her. Even went so far as to attempt to purchase her from Nikola that night.” Butler felt a sense of smug satisfaction settle the acid that was roiling in his stomach.
“And who is that?” Marik laid the cigarette on the small plate which held his coffee cup before flipping through a few papers on the desk to pull out a single manila folder, which he flipped open.
“Andrew Clark. I spent the day yesterday interviewing him about why exactly he left in the early morning hours after the Winter Dinner, without even a goodbye.” Butler leaned forward and watched as Marik flipped to a page in the folder that was filled with text and had a small picture of the man in question stapled in the corner.
When Marik lifted his eyes to Butler they were darker, and glittering with a predatory excitement that caught Butler off-guard. Nikola had looked at everything with a sense of boredom, his interest only piqued when he found a new girl he wanted to acquire for his collection, even then there had never been this level of fierce intensity in his eyes.
“Well, this
is
news. I think we should go meet Andrew together, don’t you?” Marik pushed himself up, his hands flat on the desk as he waited for Butler to stand as well.
“Of course, he’s downstairs in a storage room.” Butler stood up and Marik grabbed his cigarette and walked around the desk with a bounce in his step.
The quick walk to the storage room was silent except for the consistent puff and exhale of Marik’s incessant chain smoking. When Butler unlocked the door and pushed it open they were greeted by a rough gasp and immediate coughing. The room was pitch black but Butler stepped confidently inside and pulled the string that turned on the bulb in the center of the room.
The floor was plain and shelves lined three of the walls. Various outdoor tools like rakes and shovels were hanging from racks on the last wall, and zip tied to one of the metal shelving units was their guest – a larger man in ruined suit pants and a stained gray button down. His dark, curly hair was matted to his head with what Butler guessed was blood, but he couldn’t remember giving the man a head injury.
When the man’s eyes adjusted he finally looked up at them both, and he didn’t look good. The split lip had been the result of the man threatening Butler with police action. The darkening black eye had been from trying to fight the men Butler had sent to retrieve him. Maybe
that
was where the head injury had come from? Not that it mattered.
“He-help me, please. You have to get me out of here. I can pay you, I can pay you a lot of money. Please, this guy is insane.” Andrew was talking fast, looking past Butler to Marik who stepped around and crouched down in front of the whimpering man.
“You’re Andrew, yes? Andrew Clark from Connecticut?” Marik grinned as he blew cigarette smoke into the air again before letting the cigarette hang between his knees while Andrew nodded slowly. “The same Andrew who used to be a politician, but now focuses more on land and real estate dealings?”
Another slow nod from him.
“Wonderful. Then I’d love to continue the business relationship you had with my father.” Marik waved his hand back and forth, the smoke trailing from the lit end as he watched Andrew’s eyes widen with realization. “That is, after we clear up this little mess.”
“I’ve already told Butler I had nothing to do with her disappearance. I would have gladly taken her with me, but your father was completely unreasonable -” Andrew stopped as Marik scooted forward, the cigarette suddenly much too close to his skin for comfort.
“My father was a collector, like a curator at a museum. He treated these girls like artwork, never let anyone play too rough with them, watched them with careful consideration, appreciated them like no one else.” Marik talked smoothly, his words gliding inside Andrew’s ears like water across the edge of a blade. “And much like a museum, when you’re invited to one, you don’t point at pretty pictures on the wall and ask to take them home with you. That’s
rude
.”
“You - you’re right, it was rude.” The cigarette was hovering less than an inch above Andrew’s arm.
Butler found himself watching in fascination as Marik talked. His fingertips tingled with the urge to have Marik press the black cigarette down, but he could only hold his breath as Marik continued.
“Yes. That was rude. After all, what was your plan had you taken her? Play house with her? Do you think she’d have melted into your arms as some kind of savior when you wanted the same things from her that my father did?” Marik brushed the cigarette against the fabric of the shirt and it melted away from the heat leaving a crisp little hole in the pale gray.
“I… I don’t know what I thought. I just wanted to help her. That’s it.” Andrew was sweating. It was rolling across his forehead and down his cheeks, and gathering against the collar of his shirt.
Marik laughed, it sounded mechanical and automatic, like a recording, and it made Andrew jump. “See what helping people gets you?” Marik took a long drag on the cigarette, before blowing the smoke directly into Andrew’s face, who immediately scrunched up his nose and coughed. Marik’s post laugh grin disappeared in an instant and he leaned forward suddenly, his hand gripping Andrew’s face tightly. He increased the pressure, forcing his mouth to pucker and his split lip to start bleeding again. “Listen to me very carefully. To win in life, you have to be the wolf among the sheep. You have to slit their throats before they even notice the claws underneath the fleece. You’re a sheep, Andrew, and I’m a wolf. And sheep that want to live help the wolves get the other sheep. You want to live don’t you?”
Andrew nodded, but was unable to talk with the pressure on his face.
“Good. Then tell me everything you remember about Fae and the night of the Winter Dinner.”