The Dark Lady (59 page)

Leaning himself tighter against her, he pressed his face to hers. The terror in her eyes as she struggled against him made him smile.

This evil woman had caused much hurt to Van. Rebeka was not the first to fall for inflicting pain on the Dark Knight and she would not be the last. If all went well, many would fall over the next few days.

He smiled a deadly grin up at the boys as the last of her breath caressed his cheek. They could not take their eyes from him now.

Without a word, or any warning, and careful not to step on the struggling woman beneath his legs, he shot his massive paws out. Sausage-like fingers gripped the sun reddened neck of each boy. To keep them from calling out or struggling, he slammed the hard heads together, smiling as the blood ran down their smooth cheeks.

Keeping pressure for a few heartbeats after he could no longer feel the pulse thudding beneath his palms, he tossed them against the side of the carriage without a second glance.

Carefully he pulled the small bundle off the floor and onto his lap and removed the sheet.

Her eyes were wide with fear as she looked into the liquid brown eyes, recognition filling them. She stopped struggling. A soft joy tickled at Verges’s heart when she lay calmly in his arms. He was still amazed that this small girl trusted him.

Pulling the gag from her mouth, he smiled at her. “I will not hurt you.” He held her gently, not undoing any of her bindings. Not yet. He still had to use her as a pawn to get to Eolian and he could not free her now. Not after so much had been risked to get her.

“
I know. I am one of Van’s girls, right?” She jumped at his laugh.

“
Nay, not exactly, but it amounts to the same thing. Her girls are mistresses. You are her friend. Are you hurt?” He held her tightly to keep her from seeing the three bodies behind her. He didn’t want her any more frightened than she was.

“
Mistresses? But Van is a woman?” she gasped in shock.

He smiled and shook his head. “I will let her explain that to you. Now I need you to trust me. Can you do that?” He watched her eyes darken. “Van trusts me.”

“
I do also.” She looked him square in the eye, unwavering, to show her faith and trust in him. What do you want me to do?”

“
Do not act as if you know me. Show fear of me. It is important for you to do that.” He did not want to hurt her, but he had a sinking feeling that he would have to. “I hate to do this, but if you cannot pretend fear, you will fear me for real.” He tightened his grip painfully as her breath caught, just to make a point. He saw the fear linger in her eyes.

He released her and she gasped for breath.

“
I will not hurt you if you are a good actress, but your life, mine, and Van’s all depend on your performance. Do you understand?”

She nodded. Her eyes showed fear, but not nearly as much as he had hoped. He prayed for her sake she would not make him demonstrate his power. He did not want to hurt one of the few people that trusted him, that made him feel like...less of a freak.

“
You have to stay tied. Do as I tell you and I will help get you out of here unharmed.”

The carriage came to a stop. Quickly he replaced the gag and wrapped her tightly again. Stepping out of the conveyance, he tossed her roughly over his shoulder.

“
Aye, I will send word for you and the boys at the Inn,” he said to the dead woman who lay with her neck bruised and swollen.

He slammed the door and turned to the driver. “Take them directly to Doveslane Inn. You are to see a woman there by the name of Annette. Bring her out to the carriage and she will see to Miss Constance’s safety.”

He began walking to the small cabin, listening to the rumble of wheels disappear into the distance.

He thought back to the trip he had made to see Annette before meeting Rebeka at the castle. He had taken her upstairs, but not for what most men did. He had never used her in that way.

He needed her from time to time and considered their relationship one of necessity, which meant she was off limits to his rampages.

She had agreed to dispose of the driver, and the bodies. She would do as he said, not because of the gold he had given her, but because she was terrified for her life and that of her family. She was loyal to him because of fear and fear alone.

He had always thought fear was the ultimate power, but now he wasn’t so sure. If someone better came along to protect them, the fear would vanish, then no power.

Van had done much to convince him that fear was not the biggest power. He laughed gently and adjusted Amy across his shoulder. The Dark Knight’s reputation was built mostly on fear, but she had been the one to make him realize that friendship and a loyalty based on respect and caring was better than fear.

That was a bond worth dying for and one that no one bigger or stronger could take away. The only way to lose one’s loyalty was due to your own actions, not those of someone else.

Verges pushed everything from his mind when the broken down shelter came into view. He stepped through the door and pushed it closed behind him.

“
Verges, where are the others?”

He felt his unwilling passenger tighten at Eolian’s deep voice.

“
Miss Constance was afraid of what would happen here and took the boys to the Inn to protect her. I said we would get her when it was all done.” Verges, none too softly tossed his bundle onto the floor in the corner of the shelter. He did it as a show for all watching as well as a reminder of what she was supposed to do. He only hoped she listened.

Eolian shook his head with a look of pitiful disgust on his usually calm face. “I thought she might want to watch. That is the problem with women. They are weak. Weak of body and of mind.” He snorted. “I had thought she was different.”

Verges said nothing.

“
Did they retrieve the right one?” Eolian didn’t wait for an answer before unwrapping the small woman. She looked frightened and Verges forced himself to calm. “Aye, it is the right one. I checked her myself when they got into the carriage.”

“
My dear, did this beast hurt you?” Eolian’s voice was calm and slightly soothing.

It had always given Verges the chills, because he knew what lie beneath that façade.

Without an answer she scooted away from him.

“
You had best answer my questions, my dear, or I shall have to make you...uncomfortable,” he informed her, but she still said nothing. “What is your name?” Nothing. “Verges, pray help me.”

With a deep breath, he walked past the knight to Amy’s trembling frame. There were too many men standing in the small room to do much of anything. He so wanted just to throttle the man before him. He could not, and besides, that would only be a temporary solution.

He had thought of it often, but knew that another would just step in and take his place. There were too many warriors just waiting for their opportunity. Nay, they had to destroy him as well as a large number of his followers.

The only options he had available to him now was to send a message. That and that alone was all he could do until help arrived.

He walked toward Amy. She feigned fear, but while her body seemed frightened her eyes showed trust.

That would not do and he had warned her. He grabbed her by the hair and roughly pulled her to her feet.

Pulling her tightly against him he slid his massive hand across her breasts, giving a hard squeeze. One that he only released when he saw the fear and she began to fight in earnest, her body and her eyes now reflecting the same terror.

Eolian walked up behind him and Verges tensed when he felt his warm breath against his cheek as he leaned close to Amy’s face. “Now I asked you your name.”

“
Amy...Amy Devant,” she nearly yelled.

“
Now, that was not that hard was it?” He caressed her cheek. “I have only one other question for you and then you will go with Verges here.” He patted him on the back companionably and Verges fought a shudder of revulsion. “You will spend the night with him. I think I shall give him this honor. He has worked hard for me.”

Amy’s frightened eyes widened and the color drained from her face.

Eolian smiled. “Now my last question. Do you think the Dark Knight will come to rescue you? Are you important to her?”

She spit at his feet.

Verges cursed silently and lifted her off the ground by her hair. She screamed, her hands flying up to grasp his wrists. His mouth crashed down onto hers.

She kicked against him and tried to close her mouth, but he slid his tongue into it before she could. Regret swam through painfully and he once again prayed, to no one in particular, that this would soon be over.

He grasped her round bottom and pressed her tight against him, holding her there until the laughing men had walked from the cabin.

The instant the door clicked shut Verges released her. She wiped at her mouth and then opened it to scream. He knew she meant to accuse him of lying and betraying her. He wrapped his fingers around her throat cutting off her air supply. Whatever words she was going to throw at him died beneath his grasp.

“
Be careful what you accuse me of if you want to live. I still mean to help you.” He let his grip soften, then fall away, when she made no move to scream. “I warned you about what would happen. Now, I hope I will not have to make any more examples, but I must play my part as well as you.”

“
You could at least say you are sorry,” she whispered through her tears.

“
I am sorry.” He grinned. “Though I did enjoy the kiss. Devon Horacio is a lucky man to be getting you.” He laughed at the shocked look on her face.

“
How did you know, did Van...Nay. She would not tell anyone.” She pulled away from him.

“
I know much. Now get some sleep. There is no telling when he may be back. I will keep watch and awake you if they are coming this way.”

Verges jumped in surprise, but did not turn to face her, when her low voice sounded. “If this is how you treat someone who is under her protection—” She took a deep breath. “What would you have done if I did not have that protection?”

He did not answer.

CHAPTER 28

Van awoke slowly and tried to open her eyes. They were swollen and sticky from the long night of tears that had besieged her. She scrubbed at her face and could feel the heat baking off her. The fever was worse. “Well, hell,” she said softly to the empty room.

She moved her arm. It hurt, but she thought the infection seemed somewhat better, though she didn’t take time to look. She pulled herself from the bed, every muscle screaming at her to lay back down and go back to sleep.

She ignored them and dragged herself to the night basin. Washing her face, she stretched.

Amy had not come in to awaken her yet, so Van thought she had some time to pull herself together before she showed up. If she shows up, Van thought bitterly. After throwing the table at her last night, she might decide that avoidance would be a good option until things calmed down.

Van decided brandy was the first order. Drinking heavily, she felt stronger, able to ignore both the physical and emotional pain.

She pulled on the hated undergarments and covered them with a proper and frilly dress. Then, feeling numb inside, she sat before the large mirror to apply the thick and itchy powder that she had come to hate.

Smearing it along the unscathed side of her face, along the center of her nose, and down her chin, she sighed. What was she going to do? She had agreed to allow that woman stay in the castle and apparently Peter had taken her up on it.

She had not planned on it being so soon. Well, she would cope somehow. There was no choice. She tried to ignore the small pricks of anger and pride that jabbed at her. They refused to be ignored so she closed her eyes to will them away.

When she believed she had them silenced, she opened her eyes and looked into the mirror. What she saw staring back at her was startling.

The sun darkened, scarred side of her face was in vast contradiction to the ladylike appearance of the other side. With the makeup splitting up the sides of her face she clearly saw the two warriors that were battling for her life and for her sanity. Slowly she turned her head.

One way, then the other.

Who was she supposed to be?

One way, then the other.

She could see plainly who she was, who she had always been.

One way, then the other.

Did it matter what had made her what she was?

Was there no middle ground?

Looking straight in the mirror, she could see the truth of herself. Truth she had tried to hide as of late.

She could not stand to be the meek little wife. It made her stomach curdle to do so. She could not stand the primping and pampering it would take to be a proper wife, and more, she would never accept a mistress. Never!

The needling anger began to dig at her again, this time she let it.

She could not find sadness or depression. All that had escaped with the release of the tears last night. She had cried for everything—for the loss of her men, for the loss of her mother, and for the loss of herself.