Night Study (37 page)

“Do you know where Valek is?” he asked.

An easy question. “Not exactly. When we parted, he was headed to the coast of MD-1 to deal with Storm Thieves.”

“How long ago was that?”

I calculated. “Twenty-three days.”

“Do you think that’s enough time for him to finish?”

“I don’t know. It depends on how smart the thieves are.”

“Is it possible that he followed you to Sitia instead of going to the coast?”

“Uh...” That would mean he’d lied to me. Valek might not tell me everything, but he wouldn’t lie to me. “It’s possible, but not probable.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re still alive.” Even though it was the truth, I regretted the comment as soon as it left my mouth.

Bruns stilled. “I see.”

Thank fate his secretary entered with the tea. She set the tray on the table between us and poured two cups.

“Thank you, Tia.”

She gave him a bright smile and left the room.

“Shall we toast?” Bruns picked up his cup.

I grabbed the other and held it up.

“To honesty, no matter how brutal,” he said.

An odd toast, but I tapped my cup against his and sipped the hot liquid, which tasted strongly of Theobroma. I set it down.

Bruns questioned me about losing my magic and what I’d learned. Again, I didn’t see a reason to lie. “I’ve no idea what happened.”

We discussed potential causes. I’d explored all of them before, but I figured my openness would reinforce my I’m-on-your-side act.

“Is there something wrong with the tea?” Bruns asked.

“It’s a little too hot.”

“It should have cooled by now.”

I picked it up and sipped a tiny bit. “You’re right.” Holding the cup, I rested my right arm in my lap.

Bruns surged to his feet. “Do you really think I’m an idiot?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your guides are very observant. It didn’t take us long to guess why Leif always brought food to your room. I suspected when you first woke. As the Commander’s food taster, you must have a sensitive palate. You can stop the act.” Without warning, he grabbed my left wrist and pain pierced my forearm.

A dart was stuck in my skin. “What...?”

“I believe you call it goo-goo juice. Leif unarmed you while you were sleeping and gave me all your nasty darts filled with Curare, sleeping potion and goo-goo juice.”

My head spun as fear clawed my stomach. I set the tea on the table to avoid spilling it in my lap.

Bruns knelt in front of me. “Now, let’s talk.”

26

VALEK

V
alek stared at his father and then at the young man next to him. The one who resembled his dead brother Vincent. Or rather, how he would have looked if Vincent had lived four or five more years. And it clicked why Zohav and Zethan seemed so familiar. His parents had more children after he’d left.

Strong emotions strangled Valek, rendering him mute. He hadn’t seen his father since he was thirteen and left to seek revenge for the murder of his brothers. Since his parents told him never to return.

“Dad, what’s going on? Who is he?” the young man asked again.

Valek’s father ignored the questions. He walked toward Valek with his brown-eyed gaze locked on him and as paralyzing as Curare. Gray had replaced his once-black hair, and wrinkles lined his leathery face. A part of Valek noted that he wore a tanner’s uniform as required, but various colored dyes had stained the white diamonds.

Relaxing his grip on the hilt of his sword, Valek dismounted and stood at the gate. He clamped down on the maelstrom of shock, pain, fear and grief that raged inside him. Instead, he channeled the calm detachment he’d learned to rely on during times of great danger.

When his father reached the other side of the gate, he opened it and said, “Welcome home, son.”

Those three words slammed into him. He rocked back on his heels, and only Onyx’s solid body behind him kept Valek upright.

“Son? What are you talking about?” the young man asked. His voice squeaked with alarm.

“This is Valek, the Commander’s chief of security and your older brother,” his father said. “Valek, this is Zebulon.”

Zebulon’s shocked expression meant his...their father hadn’t mentioned Valek before. And he wondered if Father had told him about Vincent, Viliam and Victor.

Just then his mother yelled from the house, “Kalen, Zeb, get in here! The twins are back! They’re alive!”

Without a word, both men bolted to the house. Valek sagged against Onyx, glad for the few minutes to collect his wits, which had scattered when his father called him
son
. Completely unexpected, the word woke the small boy who had hidden deep down inside him. The child who craved his parents’ love and approval and wished to be held and comforted. And although he tried to shove that young boy back into his slumbering coma, the damage was done. Valek suddenly needed Yelena’s touch and her strength. With her support, he could endure this encounter. Without it—he might lose control of everything.

Valek pulled in a few deep breaths, knowing he didn’t have much time before the entire family came spilling from the house. No matter what happened, the twins still needed to go to Sitia. However, he suspected leaving after only a few hours would be impossible for all concerned.

As predicted, five people streamed from the house. His mother led the way straight toward him. She held a large kitchen knife and her expression was not welcoming. Not at all. Anger and determination emanated from her blue eyes—the mother bear protecting her cubs. She’d saved his life. And the nail-shaped scars still marked his shoulder from when she had held him back from attacking the soldiers who’d murdered his brothers.

Valek fought the instinct to grab his knives in the face of her charge. The others shouted after her to stop and think and calm down, but her stride never wavered. She halted on the other side of the open gate and brandished her weapon. The others fell silent, or rather held their collective breaths.

“You will
not
harm my children. You will
not
take them away,” she said.

“I have no intention of harming them.” Glad his voice didn’t shake, he added, “Now that I know who they are, I will ensure they are protected once they’re in Sitia.”

“What do you mean,
now
that you know?” Mother demanded. “You’ve known all along.” She gestured with the knife. “You’ve sent your spies to watch us since the takeover.”

“I sent them to
protect
you, not
spy
on you. They are only to report if someone comes after you because of me. Not about your personal life.” Valek glanced at his three...siblings. “And I take it you didn’t tell your new children about your old children?”

“They know about the others, but not you. You’re an assassin. The Commander’s killer. Everyone hates and fears you—they didn’t need to know they are related to an abomination.”

The word sliced into him. He encouraged others to feel that way about him, but hearing it from his mother had an unexpected impact. Recovering, he asked, “And how did you explain my agents?”

“We made them part of our family. The kids and the neighbors think we hired them,” his father said.

Not a bad idea, except for the fact that his agents’ covers had been blown for years and Valek hadn’t known.

“I don’t care if you’ve been protecting us,” Mother said. “They are
not
going with you.”

“Calm down, Olya. Let’s go inside and talk about this.” Father placed his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged him off.

“They
are
coming with me,” Valek said. “Either we do this the hard way, and you’ll have no time to spend with them. Or the easy way, and you’ll get...the rest of the day together.” A day of pure hell for him. Another day away from Yelena.

“I’ll go with him,” Zethan said.

“No! He’ll kill you. That’s what he does. It’s all he knows,” Mother accused.

That was the breaking point. Valek moved. In a heartbeat, he unarmed his mother. “If I’d planned to kill them, they’d be dead by now.” He handed the knife to his father. “Now spend time with your children. We’re leaving in the morning.” Valek met Zohav’s gaze. “You know what I’m capable of. Try anything—”

“And we’ll go to the Citadel as cargo,” Zethan finished. “Got it.”

“Citadel?” his father asked Valek.

“Actually, the Magician’s Keep. They need to learn the extent of their magic.”

“Why are you doing this?” His father yanked on his shirt with his big callused hand—a nervous habit that had endured the years.

“Because his heart mate would be angry if he didn’t,” Zethan supplied.

His father didn’t react to Zethan’s comment. Instead, he squinted at Valek with his shrewd I-see-right-through-you expression that came from years of raising rambunctious boys. “That’s not the entire reason.”

“Let’s just say it will be beneficial for Ixia. Despite the rumors, I’m not just a killing machine.” This he said to his mother. “I do guard the interests of Ixia.”
And my family.
But Valek wouldn’t voice that aloud. “Go on.” He shooed them away. “No sense wasting time.”

They shuffled back to the house, appearing a bit dazed. Needing to move, lest his thoughts and emotions ambush him, Valek led Onyx and Smoke inside the gate. He fed them and gave them water. Then he groomed them. Every inch, until they practically glowed.

A door banged behind him. Valek spun and yanked a knife. Standing in the tannery’s entrance was Patxi, one of his corp. The man held out his stained hands. Valek relaxed and gestured Patxi over.

The tall man fidgeted under Valek’s scrutiny. “Sorry, boss, but this was the best way to protect your family. I’m with your father all day and sleep in the room above the shop. If something happens, I’m right here.”

“And Milya?”

“She helps in the house and stays in the guest room.”

“How did—”

“Your father discovered the agents long ago. When you assign new agents, we just take over the jobs. You can’t be too surprised, sir. You had to get your canny intuition from someone.”

Appealing to his ego—nice tactic. “Do you wish to be reassigned?”

“No. I’ve a feeling your visit today is going to cause a bit of a problem from the locals. I want to make sure Zeb doesn’t get into any trouble.”

“Is he a troublemaker?”

“He’s a fighter. And stubborn. Won’t back down ever. I’ve taught him a few moves to keep him from getting completely clobbered at the tavern.”

Interesting. “Recruitment potential?”

“Yes. And now he knows you’re his brother, it’s probably safer for him to get the full training.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Patxi nodded and returned to the tannery. By the time Valek finished cleaning the horses’ hooves, the sun hung low in the sky. Now what? Having no desire to see what had changed inside the tannery, Valek looped around it.

The three graves remained in the place that was scarred into his memory. Their names had been chiseled into the black granite headstones lined up in a row—Victor, Viliam and Vincent. At the end sat another, smaller stone without a name. Had his parents put that there to represent him? Perhaps it was better to believe that he was dead instead of an abomination.

But his father’s words—
welcome home, son
—didn’t match that sentiment. However, the knife in his mother’s hand clearly did.

He knelt next to Vincent’s grave. Running his fingers over the cold stone, Valek envisioned Vincent’s face. Grief surged through him. Valek wondered for the millionth time how his life would have been different if his brothers had lived. An idyllic scene with all of them older, married with children, gathered around the huge dining room table, laughing, teasing, complaining, arguing. His mother spoiling the grandchildren, his father teaching the next generation how to tan and dye leather.

Then the questions would start. Would the King’s family still be ruling Ixia? Would the monarch’s corruption make that homey scene impossible? Would he have been content to work in his father’s tannery? Would he be a different person?

And the most important question: Would he have met Yelena? The answer to that one was no. When he focused on her and their baby, then all this didn’t hurt so much. It still smoldered deep inside him, and he still wished his brothers hadn’t been killed. But the promise of having a family again pushed him past all the heartache and grief. Motivated him to find a way to get Ixia and Sitia back on good terms, so his future of laughter, teasing, debates and love would be...not quite assured, but would have much better odds.

“Thought I’d find you here,” his father said.

Valek straightened and wiped the dirt from his knees.

“I think of those boys every day.” His father tucked his hands into his pockets. Staring at the gravestones, he rocked on his heels. “Those soldiers that were killed about two years later...were they the ones?”

“Yes.”

Father lifted his head. “And that Captain who died in the woods?”

“He ordered his men to pick a family to use as an example of what happens when you don’t pay your taxes to the King.”

“And you lodged a complaint with the King?”

“Everyone knows I assassinated him. Why are you asking?”

“Rumors can’t be trusted.”

Valek waited.

“I want to hear it from you.”

“That I’m a killer, like Mother said? Yes. I am. I personally delivered my complaint to the King, Queen and the entire royal family.”

“How did it feel? Once you finished...complaining.”

“Satisfying and freeing. But by then, it wasn’t all about revenge. I’d seen the rot and the deaths the King and his family were responsible for. I agreed with the Commander’s vision for Ixia. He’d never murder a child because his parents couldn’t afford to pay taxes.”

“True. And my taxes were reduced after the takeover.”

“Is that why you had more children?” Valek couldn’t resist asking.

“No. We were devastated and lonely. Our house had been full of four energetic and boisterous boys and then...all gone. So quiet. Your mother didn’t think she’d conceive, but Zeb was born four years after the takeover, then the twins three years later.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “When their magic started causing problems, I’d thought you’d show up and...”