"Monique will expect me to—"
"She can't see what you're wearing in bed."
With a sigh, Pablo huddled beneath the covers, the thick tuft of his dark hair startlingly masculine against the white lacy pillow.
She hadn't thought sleeping in the same bed as him would be a problem, but he unsettled her a little. There was no doubt he was an attractive man.
They lay side by side in silence and Clare started to drift off to sleep. Pablo whispered her name and she was dragged back to consciousness. "What?"
"Please undress."
"Don't push it."
"She'll know."
"Oh, for goodness sake," Clare whispered under her breath. Beneath the covers, she wriggled out of her white dress, leaving on her underwear. "Happy now?"
Pablo's fingers brushed the bare skin of her midriff and she nearly jumped out of her skin. "Yes," he said softly. She hoped she hadn't made a terrible mistake.
Chapter Eight
Clare woke in the early hours of the morning. She was too hot with Pablo's body spooned behind her. She was about to push him away when he let out a pitiful moan like an animal in pain. Clare's initial annoyance changed to concern.
She lifted his arm off her and turned on her side, squinting his way in the darkness. He wailed again, heartrending sounds that struck at her deep inner fears.
"Pablo." She grasped his shoulder, shook him. "Wake up. It's only a nightmare."
His breath jabbed and caught, then she saw the gleam of his eyes in the early morning light.
"Are you okay?"
He rubbed a hand over his face and after a few minutes he spoke. "I must get away from Monique."
"We will. As soon as this meeting with my business associate is over, we'll go back to the portal." Clare rubbed his shoulder, trying to soothe him. He raised his hand and trapped her fingers beneath his.
"I want you to feel something." Pablo pulled on her hand and she resisted, suddenly remembering she was in bed with a nearly naked man.
"It's nothing sexual. Just feel my skin."
After a moment of hesitation, Clare allowed him to guide her hand to his lower back. Bumps and ridges marred his smooth skin. Curious, she traced the pattern of marks lower, onto his buttocks. "What are they?"
"Scars."
"From an accident?"
"No."
A terrible sense of dread swept through her. "Monique hurt you?"
"Yes."
She'd tortured him—there was no other explanation. "You were dreaming about it, weren't you?"
Pablo released a harsh breath. "I always dream about it."
A cold rush of panic burst inside her, something she hadn't felt since her father was sick. She concentrated on breathing to focus and let the feeling pass. She had to keep a clear head and think. She'd always known Monique was ruthless, but this was something else, something far worse.
"Did she hurt Luka as well?"
"Yes. He suffered more than me."
Clare stared up at the draped roof of the bed and struggled to get her head around what she'd just learned. Monique was her grandmother, her own flesh and blood. If she was some kind of cold-blooded psychopath, did that mean Clare had the potential to become like that? How had it even happened? Business people didn't go around torturing other people. But then if Monique had summoned Luka from Taldom in the first place, she wasn't exactly a normal businesswoman.
"Why did Monique hurt you, Pablo?"
"I tried to help Luka."
So Luka was the linchpin. That made sense, seeing Monique had been eager to have him back in Taldom.
Pablo trembled beside her, so she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, stroking his hair. No wonder he was so uncertain and fearful. Her grandmother must have mentally scarred him for life.
***
Sudden bright light on her eyelids pulled Clare back to consciousness. She stretched beneath the warmth of the covers and became aware of a solid masculine body in her arms. The events of the last twenty-four hours rushed back to her and she wished she could close her eyes and go back to sleep.
Instead she focused on what she must do. Meet with Edward and Monique, find out what her grandmother was planning, and then get Pablo safely back to Luka. Only a few days ago she'd thought her life was going well. Now…
She was about to wake Pablo when a figure blocked the sunlight streaming through the gap in the bed curtains. Her grandmother stared down at them, an inquisitive tilt to her head.
"It appears you had a good night, darling."
"Umm, yeah."
Monique's elaborate hairstyle appeared to move, then a long, hairy leg slid down her grandmother's cheek. Clare suppressed a shiver. "What is that spider thing?"
"A nayk. Perfectly harmless if you keep it well fed." Her gaze slid along the ridge of Pablo's body beneath the sheet and she smiled. "When they're hungry, they have a nasty habit of creeping into bed with you at night and sucking your blood." She leaned forward and grabbed Pablo's foot.
He woke with a cry and jerked away from her. Monique laughed and glanced at Clare as if expecting her to share the joke.
Clare didn't like having her bedroom invaded and being checked up on. "Unless there's something urgent, I'll see you downstairs when I'm dressed."
Monique's gaze swept over Clare and fixed on Pablo like a hawk sighting her prey. Without taking her eyes off him, she walked around the side of the bed. "Was he accommodating?"
"Yes," Clare snapped back a little too quickly.
Her grandmother raised her eyebrows.
Pablo huddled into a bump under the sheet. As if that would protect him.
"I'm curious, why bring this one and not Luka?"
Clare was wary of giving anything away, but she had to answer the question. For want of a better idea, she told the truth. "Luka was meant to come, but the portal wouldn't let him pass."
Monique thoughtfully disentangled the nayk from her hair and lifted him down. She petted the creature and nodded towards some clothes that had been laid out. "I brought you one of my dresses." She checked a small gold watch hung on a chain around her waist. "Join me in the great hall in twenty minutes. There's someone I want you to meet." Then she left.
Pablo emerged from beneath the covers and glanced around. "Thank God she's gone."
After last night, something had changed between them, as if they were united against a common enemy. Clare reached out and stroked back his hair. "Get dressed and be ready to leave."
"When?"
"Hopefully, this meeting with Edward won't take long. Then we'll go to the portal. Of course, we might be stuck waiting there for hours."
Pablo drew a shaky breath and a flash of fear passed through his eyes. "What happens if she won't let us go?"
Clare rubbed her hand along his arm. "We'll find a way home."
Behind the screen in the corner of the room was an alcove that served as a bathroom. Braving the cold water, she gave herself a quick wash in the small tub and pulled on the dress. When she stepped back into the room, Pablo was dressed.
"Would you like me to come downstairs with you?" he asked.
"It's best if you stay here and keep out of trouble. I'll fetch you when it's time to leave."
"I feel as though I should protect you."
Clare bit back her urge to laugh. "I'll be fine. She won't do me any harm. I'm her granddaughter."
"I hope you're right."
***
Clare arrived in the great hall a few minutes late. Her grandmother stood before the inglenook fireplace, sheathed in a golden gown the same color as the tongues of flame that consumed the logs in the grate.
A tall man stood at her side, his back to Clare. When she approached, her grandmother broke off their conversation and waved a hand in her direction. "Meet my granddaughter, Clare Moray."
The man turned her way. He looked familiar, and she wondered if she'd met him the night before. Unsure how to greet him, she went with what she knew and held out her hand. He stepped forward, clasped her fingers, and raised them to his lips. "Lady," he said in a thick accent.
"This is Jaska Vlad," Monique said. "He represents Luka Vlad's father."
"You know Luka?" Jaska Vlad asked.
All Clare's senses went on high alert. She remembered Luka telling her he'd passed through the portal to escape the wrath of his father, so this Jaska Vlad might not be friendly. She decided the less she said the better. "I do."
"I wish him home," the man said. "He has a debt—" He broke off and looked to Monique for help.
"He owes his family a debt of honor," Monique finished for him. She raised an eyebrow at Jaska Vlad. "Shall I explain?" He gestured for her to continue. "Before Luka came through the portal, he was involved in a fight. Apparently, he killed one of his brothers. They want him to return to face family justice."
Everything inside Clare stilled. This was not what Luka had told her. Who should she believe?
"He must return," Jaska Vlad ordered, looking down on her with an air of aloof superiority.
"All I can do is pass on your message."
The man frowned and Monique laid her hand on his arm. "My granddaughter told me Luka intends to come back to his family. He would have been here waiting for you, but there was a problem with the portal."
"When he arrives, you send word," the man said.
A chill settled in Clare's stomach.
"Of course, Jaska." Monique checked her watch. "Now, Clare and I have some urgent business. Please excuse us."
She gestured for Clare to follow, then, with a swish of skirts, turned and swept across the flagstones towards the door. Clare hesitated a moment and studied Jaska Vlad's expression. "What is the payment for this debt of honor Luka owes?"
"Death for death."
Ice balled around Clare's heart. Thank God she had failed in her attempt to send Luka through the portal. She might just have saved his life. With a curt nod, she turned and headed for the door. Luka's family was demanding his death, and Monique planned to hand him over. Whatever had Luka done to make her hate him so much?
Chapter Nine
Monique led Clare back to the bedroom where she and Pablo had entered from Earth. A small table with barley twist legs had been placed next to the full-length mirror that served as the portal between worlds. Laid out on the white tablecloth were a number of magical tools. Some were easy to identify: the bowl of salt, candle, and cup of water used in consecration rituals. The fire wand, water cup, air dagger, and earth pentacle Clare recognized from her research.
Her grandmother checked her watch, then picked up a small sword with an unusual rosy glow to the blade. She held it in front of the mirror and sketched a complicated symbol in the air. The mirror cleared to reveal Edward on the other side, in an office with a large old-fashioned desk behind him.
Monique lowered the sword, and Edward stepped through the mirror nonchalantly as if he were stepping off the subway.
"Monique." He nodded. "Clare," he said absently. Although his pale blue eyes were turned in her direction, she felt as though they were focused on something else.
She had plenty to say to Edward about how he'd jerked her around, but now wasn't the time or place. The recriminations would save for later.
"Are things going to plan?" he asked Monique in a flat voice that suggested he didn't care if they were or not.
Clare narrowed her eyes and studied him. There was something different about Edward, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
Monique carefully placed the sword back on the white cloth, linked her arm through Edward's, and led him towards the door. "We have one minor problem, which I hope will soon be rectified." She glanced over her shoulder at Clare and her forehead furrowed. "Luka failed to accompany Clare through the portal. He's still in France."