Jaded (35 page)

One more attack like the one she’d had before would obliterate her. Her entire body went frigid as fear sucked all the warmth from her blood. “I will never, ever do what you want me to do, Ivan. No matter what you subject me to. I refuse.”

He smiled. “But you already have been doing what I want you to do, my dear. At least, up until a few weeks ago.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve been watching you since you were lying in that alley six years ago. You haven’t known it, but I’ve been managing you from afar. I was delighted when you took up with the Temple of Dreams and I’ve been monitoring your clientele. If a man seemed too likely to bring you love or happiness, I . . .
persuaded
. . . him to go quietly away.”

Lilya pushed her chair away with a loud scrape against the floor and bolted to her feet. “You incredible bastard!”

All this time she’d been priding herself on being in control, choosing her clients and then carefully managing her relationships with them, but Ivan had been behind the scenes, directing and guiding her life from afar.

“I only want things back the way they were, Lilya.” He spread his hands.

All of a sudden her life at the Temple of Dreams seemed like a cage. Dear Joshui, she’d been in prison since the day she’d met him but she hadn’t known it.

The blood drained from her face and her body went cold and shaky. The room tilted and her vision went black. No. No, she couldn’t pass out. Not now. Not ever in front of Ivan. It left her too vulnerable.

She swallowed hard and leaned down, gripping the table so she wouldn’t fall over, and snarled into his face. “I will never, never give you anything you want, Ivan. I will die before I ever do anything you want me to do again.”

He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “There’s that pride. It’s amazing that you should still have it.” He paused. “I can make you do anything I want you to do, Lilya. Two words,
Byron and Alek
.”

She straightened, her face going blank, and took a step backward. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m threatening
them
, actually. If you go back to your life at the Temple of Dreams, tell them you care nothing for them, and force them to go away, I’ll leave them alone.”

“I don’t think they’ll be that easy to kill.” Her voice shook with uncertainty.

Ivan laughed. “I could have done it in Ulstrat on any night of my choosing. Breaking into Byron Andropov’s house was easy. I stood over all your beds, dagger in my pocket. Slitting their throats would have been a child’s game.”

Of course. He’d been the one to break into Byron’s. She really had smelled Ivan’s cologne that night. He’d probably been watching her at the crossball match that afternoon and at the market too. She just hadn’t thought about it before. She shuddered.

“I’ve got men out looking for them even as we speak. Eventually they’ll be located. If you refuse my terms, I’ll order them brought here and I’ll slit their throats right in front of you.”

She swallowed hard. “You’d actually get your hands bloody, Ivan?”

His lips split in a mirthless smile. “Anything for you, love. Now what was that you were saying about not doing anything for my pleasure?”

Her mind whirled. If she killed him, they would all be free. Desperation made the back of her throat taste coppery. Her gaze flicked to the entrance of the dining room and the two monsters standing on either side of it. She knew there were more scattered around the house, stationed outside every entrance.

She looked at the knife lying alongside her plate and then at the one discarded beside Ivan’s wineglass. Along with her dagger that was three weapons total. If she acted fast, maybe she had an opportunity.

Even in the three seconds it took her to calculate a plan and her odds, three of Ivan’s men entered the room. That made six men total in her vicinity.

She wilted. Yet, now might be her last chance at trying to kill Ivan.

She hadn’t given up yet, not by a long shot, but she had to appear as if she had. Bowing her head, she murmured, “I agree.” She didn’t have to fake the tears that plopped onto the floor. It was a lie—she was going to try and figure a way out of this—but the lie felt true. It confirmed everything she’d secretly believed about herself before Byron and Alek. Love and happiness really weren’t for her. She wasn’t allowed to have it.

Here was the proof.

“Good.” Ivan nodded, a genuine smile splitting his face. “That’s very good, Lilya. The men can live. I’ll be watching you though. One little slip up and I’ll slip them up. Got it?”

Miserable, she nodded.

“All right, boys, she’s yours.”

Her head snapped up and she backed away from them. “What? I thought we’d struck a bargain!”

“The bargain was for the lives of your lovers, not for your punishment. That is nonnegotiable.”

“You bastard. You rotten, stinking bastard!” She grabbed up the table knife and held it out between her and the six men who were now in the room. “I will die before I let them have me.”

Ivan shrugged. “As you wish.”

“I have a better idea, Ivan.” She backed up a few more paces, away from the confident, smirking thugs who were clearly quite happy with their boss at the moment. “How about
you
die instead?”

She leapt onto the table, sliding across it using the table cloth. The cloth slipped over the edge, sending plates, food, and cutlery to the floor with a thunderous, clattering crash. Single-minded in her purpose, she ignored it all, driving the point of her knife straight for Ivan’s throat.

Ivan’s eyes grew wide and he threw up his hands to ward her off. No matter, she readjusted the blade’s trajectory toward his chest.

A moment before her knife made contact, one of the guards slammed into her. She tumbled over the edge of the table, going down hard onto the floor amid the shattered plates and the remnants of roasted chicken. Her knife flew from her hand and skidded under the table.

“Nice try, Lilya,” came Ivan’s smug voice. “You can give up all hope now.”

Her eyes closing, pain screaming through her, she rested for a moment against the floor. Give up?
Never.
She would fight until her dying breath. Coughing, she rolled onto her side, masking the movement of her hand going to the bodice of her dress. Pulling the weapon out, she hid it up her sleeve.

Shouting and crashing sounds came from another part of the house. “What? What’s going on?” asked Ivan, glancing around him.

Chaos erupted. Men she didn’t recognize rushed into the room and began fighting with the thugs. Shouting came from all over the house. Dazed from the fall she’d taken and her body hurting all over from the broken glass she’d landed on, she forced herself up, watching the battle explode in the room.

Suddenly Ivan was on her, snarling into her face, and raising the other table knife above his head. She threw up an arm instinctively to protect herself. Ivan brought his hand down for a killing blow. Using every ounce of her strength, she knocked his arm away and plunged her own blade upward, taking him in the throat. Ivan went motionless for a moment above her, his eyes going wide with surprise and shock. Hot blood pumped over her hand and dripped onto the floor.

Ivan slumped to the side, the knife limp in his lifeless hand.

Lilya fell back and closed her eyes, panting hard. Every part of her body screamed with pain. Around her the battle raged on. Men shouted. Things broke. For a moment she thought she heard Gregorio Vikhin’s voice . . . but that was impossible.

Her heart ached for Byron and Alek.

Everything began to go black.

“Lilya!”

Her eyes opened to find Byron scooping her into his arms. “Lilya, what did they do to you?”

She smiled up into his face, wondering if it really could be Byron she was seeing now. If it was a dream, it was a good one. “This? I did this to myself.”

“There’s so much blood.”

“Most of it is Ivan’s.” She paused, thinking about the broken plates and glasses she’d landed on. “Or maybe not,” she amended.

Then everything really did go black.

T
his is the second time I’ve found you broken and had to put you back together.”

Lilya’s eyes came open and she looked up into Byron’s gently smiling face. Alek was beside him. The last thing she remembered was losing consciousness in Ivan’s dining room. Now she appeared to be back at Byron’s house.

“Not broken.” Her voice came out rasping. “Ivan didn’t manage to do that a second time.” She smiled. “I’m just slightly damaged.”

“Ivan is dead.” Alek cupped her cheek. “He’s not going to be hurting you ever again.”

She leaned back into the pillows and let out a long sigh of relief. Closing her eyes, a tear squeezed out and dribbled down her cheek. The nightmare was over. Finally.

“The doctor says you need to rest. He pulled out several large pieces of glass from your back and legs and you’ve lost a lot of blood,” continued Alek.

She’d come close to losing so much more than that.

Byron leaned over and kissed her forehead. “But never fear, Alek and I are here to pamper you until you’re well.”

She laughed. “That sounds like heaven.”

“Alek has been using his magick to heal you as well. Thanks to him, your scarring will be minimal.”

She reached out, took Alek’s hand and squeezed. “Thank you.”

He grinned. “I could think of better, far less scary ways you could have coaxed my magick from me, Lilya.”

She smiled. “I’ll try and remember that next time. How did you two know where Ivan had taken me?”

“When you revealed Ivan’s identity, Byron began gathering information about him and had him watched. He’d planned to take him down for what he did to you. He knew about all of Ivan’s properties. We just had to narrow it down. Once we did that, we gathered some reinforcements. Gregorio Vikhin was delighted to come out and arrest Ivan for kidnapping you, and the players from our crossball team were happy to come and crack a few heads.”

She swallowed hard, remembering. “You came just at the right time.”

“You killed Ivan, didn’t you, Lilya?” asked Byron.

She was sure the rush of emotion she had at the memory made her face hard. “I did.”

“Then the hard part is over. Alek and I are going to see that the rest of your life is easy and filled with love.”

She closed her eyes, emotion making a hard lump in her throat. “I don’t know if I deserve it.”

Byron touched her face. She opened her eyes and locked gazes with him. “We’re going to spend the rest of our lives proving that you deserve it.” He pulled a ring box from his pocket. “Now you have two, one for each hand.”

She gasped and reached out to touch the ruby-and-diamond ring. It didn’t match Alek’s ring, but it did complement it—just as the men themselves complemented each other. She took the ring from the box and slid it onto her right hand.

She held her hands at arm’s length, admiring the way the gems caught the light. “They’re the first rings I’ve ever accepted.” She looked up at them each in turn. “And they will be the last.”

Byron moved closer to her, cupping her face in his hands. “Lilya, I love you. I began to love you the day I collected you off the ground of that alley and my love only grew as I got to know what an amazing woman you are.” He leaned in and kissed her softly. “I regret not telling you sooner. Can you forgive me for being afraid?”

She stroked his cheek with her fingers. “Only if you can forgive me for the same.” She looked past him to Alek, who watched them with serious dark eyes. “I love you both more than I could ever have imagined I could love any man. How do you propose we handle this, the
three
of us?”

“We’ll discuss that after you’re well,” answered Alek. “Until then, we’re going to take care of you.”

And she believed them.

 

 

Lilya looked up from her tea as Evangeline walked into the cook shop. Smiling, she rose. “You came without your babies?”

Evangeline returned her smile, though it was weary. “They’re with Anatol and Gregorio. The men knew I needed an afternoon away. Thanks for dropping that note by and giving me the opportunity.”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.”

The serving girl came by and Evangeline ordered tea and a sugar bun. Evangeline peeled off her hat and gloves. It was unusually warm for early spring. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better. It took some time to recover from the injuries I sustained, but I managed to heal without any scars thanks to Alek’s magick.”

“You seem”—she studied her—“lighter, happier. In love?”

“I am. Twice over.”

A huge smile split Evangeline’s face. “And you said you never would be, but I remember the way you talked to me when I ran from Anatol and Gregorio. You wanted me to go back to them so much. You told me how much they loved me and wanted me.”