Vampire Legacy (Book 4 of the Dragon Heat series) (8 page)

“You did right,” Natalia replied. “And you too, Dimitri, for coming to me at once.”

“Ivan told me we could trust you,” Dimitri replied.

On the balcony, Petran felt his jaw tighten. So, sweet Lady Natalia wasn’t an innocent lady of the ton after all. But he had to take his hat off to her. She’d been aiding the rebels, right under Kalaur’s nose.

“Everything will be all right now,” Natalia stated with remarkable confidence. She took out a small sachet of coins and handed it to the woman. “Here, this will be enough to guarantee you safe passage to Croatia. Go straight to the port in Dubrovnik and ask for a woman named Zoricah. She is a good friend of mine and will help you catch a passenger boat to Malta. And most importantly, do not fly out, do not shift, and pretend you’re human at all costs.”

“I can take them half the way,” the water witch offered. “I also need to go to Croatia.”

“That would be splendid, Nepú,” Natalia replied, with sincere gratitude. “Once again, thank you for your help.”

“What of my husband?” Milek’s sister enquired with a trembling voice. “He was captured by Balaur’s troops.”

Silence descended over the room. Petran knew too well the answer to the poor woman’s question. He didn’t believe Natalia would have the courage to tell her the truth, but once again, he was mistaken.

Natalia took the woman’s hand in hers and looked straight into her tear-filled eyes. “My dear, I’m afraid there’s little we could do to save your husband. I’m so sorry, but right now it’s imperative we get you and your boys out of Moldavia and far away from Kalaur’s claws.”

Milek’s sister’s chin trembled again, but Natalia was right there supporting her while reminding them time was of essence. Petran couldn’t stop his heart from warming toward those poor inmãs. Well, if he were frank with himself he’d admit the affection wasn’t just for the dracos, but for the redhead risking her life to help them.

A small smile lifted his alabaster cheeks as a new plan formed in his head. Since their moment of raw sincerity by her father’s bed the night before, Petran had been secretly trying to find a way of stopping the wedding without having to destroy her. This newfound information had now given him just that.

As the draco party left the confines of the room, Petran prepared to deploy his new plan. The irony of it all had not escaped him—Kalaur had developed a weapon against his own people to incapacitate the rebel forces that were being led by the very person he was so desperately chasing to marry. How ironic was that?

Once the red door opened and the rebel party stepped out, Petran kept his position and watched Natalia bid farewell to Milek’s sister and the witch. Her angelic features carried a weight of determination as she tried to bring comfort to the other dracos.

Petran’s mouth salivated and his loins grew heavier with desire. She looked quite fetching in that peasant outfit.

His new plan would be safer, and more reliable for success—he would not have to worry about exposure—but unfortunately, it would also strip him of the pleasure of experiencing Lady Natalia squirm in pleasure under him. What a pity.

Chapter Nine

 

Talia hugged Milek’s sister one last time. She was a brave woman and it broke Talia’s heart seeing her so desperate. It was people like her that had convinced Talia to join the rebel army. Ivan Milek was a very inspiring leader but seeing the thousands of good dracos suffering under Kalaur’s reign of terror was far more convincing. She just wished she could do more for them.

“Here,” Talia said to Milek’s sister, handing her a small piece of paper. “This is the name of my contact in Croatia. Zoricah will definitely be able to find you safe passage to Malta.” The woman nodded slightly. She was nervous, but at least her tears had dried out.

“Don’t worry, Talia,” Nepú assured her. “I’ll make sure they board a good ship.”

Talia smiled in gratitude, silently thanking the Soartas for sending her the water witch in a very timely fashion. She had found Mother Nepú through a common acquaintance when the awful disease had first stricken her father. Nepú’s potions hadn’t managed to cure him, but they had certainly slowed it down. In exchange for her services, she hadn’t requested financial payment but an old book of draconian tales. Talia had been taken aback by the strange request but, if handing over an old family heirloom was the price for saving her father’s life, she’d be happy to pay it tenfold. This evening, however, had revealed another side of the witch Talia hadn’t seen before, and she was glad for it.

She watched Dimitri settle their small bundle of clothes on the horse and bid them farewell.
Please Apa Dobrý, help them cross the mountains safe and sound
. Those boys had seen far more blood and tears than any children should ever see.

She released a long, tired sigh and looked up at the stars. The moon was nearing the western hills. It would be morn soon so she needed to get back to the castle straight away, before raising any suspicions. Her loyal chambermaid, Martha, was very good at covering for her, but she couldn’t perform miracles. It was not prudent to push one’s luck with the Soartas.

“Would you like me to take you back, milady?” Dimitri offered, dragging his horse closer.

Talia was about to nod in acceptance when an out of place movement across the street made her pause. She turned her head slightly to better see what it was, and her blood ran cold.

There, across the road from where they stood, at the mouth of a dark alleyway stood King Petran, watching her like a hawk. The shadows hid his face but his long fur cloak and pointed kalpak were a dead giveaway.

Oh, Merciful Apa Dobrý!

What was he doing here? Or more to the point, how long had he been watching them? Talia swallowed dry and forced her heart to calm down. She could feel it thumping as if there were a horde of bulls in her chest.

“I appreciate your offer, Dimitri, but I can find my way back,” she answered trying to mask the uneasiness in her voice. She needed to face the Vampire King alone. If Ivan got wind that Petran might be on to them, he’d probably do something foolish like try to assassinate the vampire. Ivan was a great leader, but sometimes he could be as callous as Kalaur himself.

“Go, Dimitri, now,” Talia ordered. Her words came out a bit graver than she intended.

“What is it?” Dimitri asked turning toward where her gaze directed but King Petran disappeared into the shadows just before Dimitri turned around. Thank the Soartas for vampire speed.

“It’s nothing,” Talia replied quickly, calling his attention back to her. “I’ll find my way back, go now.”

“But it’s too dangerous, milady. Ivan would kill me if he knew—”

“I’ll manage, Dimitri,” she replied curtly. Then added more softly, “Please, Dimitri, go and tell Ivan I’ll send him a note in the morn.”

Her friend looked guarded, as if knowing something was off, but didn’t retort. He bowed slightly then climbed onto his horse and galloped away. His horse’s hooves stomped heavily on the cobblestone echoing along the narrow streets.

Talia tried to draw in a breath but the air seemed to have escaped her lungs. At the mouth of the alleyway, the King of Vampires stepped from the shadows and stared right into her eyes.

He wanted her to know he was there. Waiting.

Oh, dear.

She knew she had two options—either ignore him and hope he too would pretend he’d not seen her, or face him. Well, whom was she kidding? Petran, King of the Vampires, known for his cunning stratagems, for winning battles before they even began, would never let her off the hook so easily. There was no point in trying to avoid the inevitable. Besides, they had shared that one moment of binding trust by her father’s bed the other night, had they not? Maybe, she could inspire the same kindness from the Vampire King once again.

Talia straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and crossed the road toward her destiny.

The air in the narrow alleyway where Petran had disappeared into was denser somehow. The stench of feces and decaying flesh hit her like a punch to the gut. Talia spotted a few drunks passed out along the way. Strange sounds echoed in the night. A woman cried out to the right and Talia jumped startled then blushed profusely when she realized she had just run into a pair copulating. The male draco pinned Talia with bloodshot eyes, and flashed her a toothless smile, while never stopping his thrusts into the hooker underneath him.

Talia averted her eyes, blinking quickly. She had come to the red light district to meet with her fellow rebels a few times before, but every time the bluntness of life in this part of her country caught her off guard. She wasn’t a prude, or a traditionalist who believed all sinful inmãs should burn in the flames of Hiad, but she hadn’t been
exposed
to such roughness before. Everything was so bare here, so crude, so…mesmerizing. It was almost entrancing, like an accident on the side of the road. She felt averted by its rawness, but at the same time felt enticed by it all—the sound of flesh pumping against flesh, the prostitute’s light moans, her exposed breasts wobbling side to side, and the smell of sex permeating the air.

“Enthralling, is it not?” a husky voice reverberated in her left ear. A mild scent of mint enveloped her senses.

Petran.

Talia startled as goose bumps ran up her arms, but she managed to hold herself tight. Slowly turning around, she faced him, eye to eye. Well, not exactly since he was a good head taller than her. And by Apa Dobrý, he was imposing. His broad shoulders seemed to travel on forever, while his perfectly trimmed beard outlined his chiseled jaw. But it was his eyes…his stunning, green eyes which beheld her in such a way she felt as naked as the hooker’s breasts.

“I must confess,” he added in is husky voice. “I am rather surprised to find you in these parts of town.”

“I may dare say the same about his majesty,” Talia replied, trying to sound nonchalant and knowing she was failing miserably.

A hint of amusement lifted his patrician features, as if saying “Touché”. Instead, he said, “We may then agree that our current state is dictated by a surprising turn of events.”

Talia’s nerves were running thin under her skin, and Petran’s nearness was not helping either. She didn’t have much experience dealing with politicians so she decided not to give Petran the upper hand, or the satisfaction of seeing her fail when trying to play his game. And by the gates of Hiad, she would not let him know that she was utterly intimidated, and unconditionally curious.

“Yes, King Petran, we shall agree that our present states are indeed dictated by circumstances. I find, however, difficult to believe it was
surprising
,” she replied, then folded her arms across her chest in blunt defiance. “Name your price.”

Petran’s eyes flared red for an instant. It was the only indication of his distress because the arrogant smirk never left his lips. “Why, milady, I never thought you to be as raw as the rebels with whom you’ve been associating,” he drawled, then leaned forward with his lips almost touching her right ear. “Tell me, Natalia, has Ivan Milek taught you something more than being a straight shooter? Has he taught you that there’s more to a negotiation than the financial agreement?”

Talia felt her cheeks burn.
The scoundrel!
He was insinuating that she and Ivan were…that they were…without being able to stop herself she pulled back and slammed her open palm across the king’s face. It didn’t even leave a mark—damn the Soartas—but at least it wiped the sneer off his handsome face.

“Watch your tongue, King of Vampires. You are still addressing the Duchess of Moldavia.”

“I believe it is exactly the opposite, milady. If your father knew of my presence here, he’d laugh and even congratulate me. But if he gets the wind that you were here, well, his reaction may be quite different.”

Talia clutched her jaw tight and held her hands to her sides. They were itching to strike him again. Instead, she chose to show her defiance with words.

“You won’t tell my father.”

“I won’t?”

“No. If it were your intention, you wouldn’t have revealed yourself to me.” There, that would teach him she wasn’t just a pretty face. 

“Cunning observation,” he remarked in agreement. “For a naïve girl.”

Damn him! Where was the caring
you can trust me
man she met by her father’s bedside not even two nights before? She stepped sideways trying to find some breathing room, but she didn’t back down. “I’m not as experienced as your majesty, but I’ve had my share at the royal courts in London. I know how to recognize a usurper when I see one. So, as I said, name the price I have to pay for your silence.”

That hit the mark for the king’s eyes flashed red once again, and the veins on his forehead popped with her insult. “Push me this way, I’ll make sure it’s impossible to be paid.”

Talia was sure he’d have no difficulty snapping her neck with a flick of his wrist, but she couldn’t show him any weakness. The sheep’s only salvation is to pretend to be a wolf. So, she stared him in the eye. “This is not your fight, Petran. This has nothing to do with you.”

“You’re sorely mistaken, my dear. This has
everything
to do with me. You have no idea,” he said between clenched teeth, and then he released a sharp breath, which seemed to help him restore his detached composure. “However, I will grant your wish. Here’s my price—find a way out of your wedlock with the Dragon Lord, and I won’t tell anyone of your little rendezvous with the rebels.”

What?
Talia’s jaw dropped. “How do you suppose I do that?”

“I do not care. Just figure out a way of convincing your father not to go ahead with the wedding.”

“Do you think I want to marry that swine?” she retorted, feeling more desperate than when she first saw him watching her from across the street. “Kalaur is the epitome of everything I despise in this world, but my father is adamant I need a man to guide me, and
unshriven
me.”

Petran lifted an eyebrow at her. “Well, your actions don’t particularly strike me as mastery, milady.”

“You are such—”

“Such…what? Insolent?” He threw his head back and let out a bitter laugh. “Look at you! Did you really think you’d roam these streets unnoticed? It took me less than two evenings to figure you out. How long do you think it will take Kalaur to do it too?”

She bit on her lower lip. He had a point. And she hated him even more for that. “Well, he hasn’t so far, and it’s been nearly a year.”

Petran stared at her with cold eyes. “You have until the Open Games to change your father’s mind.”

Damn him! She’d never be able to do that. She’d already tried everything. Only Apa Dobrý knew how many tears she’d shed over this, but her father was as hard-headed as a mule.

“I thought you liked my father,” she murmured adding an extra layer of bitterness in her voice.

“I do,” he replied.

“Then why don’t you help him instead of—”

“I
am
helping him by making you break this insane deal he’s about to make with Kalaur.”

“No, you’re not, because all you care about is your crown.”

He pinned her with his emerald eyes. “Yes, milady, that is correct. I am very fond of your father, but the safety of my kingdom is more important than any friendship.”

“By Apa Dobrý, you are cold.”

Petran’s eyes flashed red once again. “Cold you say?” he whispered then leaned even closer, his lips barely touching hers. “You have no idea.”

Talia froze in place not knowing how to react to his nearness, not knowing if her heart was racing because she was afraid or because he shook her to the core in a way no other man ever had before. He slowly breathed down her neck, taking in a long pull of air. Talia braced herself for what would come next.

But as it seemed, the Vampire King was apparently done with his bout. He simply lifted his gaze, then pulled away and strolled toward the street, without another word.

Talia closed her eyes and stood there for a moment longer, trying to catch her breath. When she opened them again, she found Petran still at the mouth of the alleyway, his back turned to her as if debating with himself.

What in Hiad was he plotting now?

He finally turned around and faced her once again. “How do you plan to return to the castle?”

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