Gibran spoke. “She was found fastened inside the stocks. Dressed in a one-piece black leather suit.”
Darias drew in a deep breath to steady himself. “How was she killed?”
“Asphyxiation.” Gibran’s voice was low, professional. Darias could barely bring himself to look the other man in the eye, even though Gibran had probably not seen his grandmother in this compromising situation. He had been hired after the events transpired. “When I first arrived, I entertained the scenario that the situation was consensual. But of course her son being found murdered in a room nearby made that unlikely.”
“My grandmother would most certainly never have participated in bondage-style activities,” said Darias grimly. “She was a very proper lady. A queen in every sense of the word.”
Gibran stared at the empty stocks for a moment. “Often it is people in positions of power who most feel the need for this kind of release.”
“Never.” He hoped he would be able to banish the vision of his elegant and charming grandmother dressed in black leather from his mind. The idea appalled him. “Someone has arranged this disgusting scene to smear my family’s reputation.”
Gibran's eyes narrowed slightly. “Were you aware that she and your father were both members of a secret society called the Cross of Blood?”
Darias paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “I was aware. However, the Cross of Blood is an ancient society dating back to the Crusades. They have meetings of some sort, perhaps once a year. At one point my father tried to convince me to join. I thought it would be boring so I refused. I hardly think he would have invited me to join some kinky sex club.” Just talking about his beloved and respected family members in this manner made his blood boil and his fingers curl into fists. “We need to find out who did this.”
Gibran cleared his throat. “Our investigation is being hampered by your mother’s insistence that we keep the circumstances surrounding the deaths completely secret.”
Darias took another look at the stocks. “I agree with her. At least until we have some idea what was going on, we should keep completely quiet about this. I couldn’t bear for my grandmother’s reputation to be tarnished by someone’s idea of a cruel joke.”
“I understand.”
“And my father—” Darias was almost afraid to ask. And very little scared him. “What were the circumstances of his death?”
Gibran rubbed a hand over his mouth. “You are aware that he was stabbed with a sword?”
“Yes, I had heard that much. However, I suspect there is more to the story.”
“Come with me.” Gibran exited the room with a nod to the police guard. He turned right and headed further along the hallway to where another door was closed with yellow police tape. “His body was found in here.” He pulled back the tape and opened the door. “I’m afraid the scene is very bloody. On my instructions, they’ve left the room exactly as it was found.”
Darias peered past him into the gloomy interior of what must once have been a large bedroom, now devoid of furniture. As he made out the dark shadows on the floor and realized that they were blood—his father’s blood—his stomach churned and he fought a powerful urge to vomit.
He steeled himself to face the horrifying scene and walked into the room. “Tell me the exact circumstances. Don’t hold anything back.”
Gibran cleared his throat. “He was found facedown in the center of the room. Naked.”
Darias closed his eyes and inhaled, trying to ground himself. “And the weapon?”
“Was still sticking out of his back when he was found.”
“Did it have fingerprints on it?”
“Many.” Gibran grimaced. “Too many. Nothing we could work with. We suspect the murderer wore gloves and that the fingerprints we found were older. The weapon was a family heirloom usually kept in the royal armory.”
“Who removed it?”
“No one knows. It may have been missing for some time.”
“What? The royal armory is where the crown jewels are kept. There is a single diamond in there worth twenty-three million dollars. How can items just vanish?”
“We’re looking into it.”
Darias blew out hard, frustration growing to boiling point. “The bodies were found by police sent out to look for the missing persons. Who sounded the alarm?”
Gibran hesitated again, his eyes narrowing in that disconcerting fashion. “That’s the official story but the truth is that the bodies were found by your mother. She came out here to look for your father.”
“What made her think he’d be here?”
“She said he came to meetings here with a private club that he belonged to.”
“Good lord. So she saw—” He stared down at the shadows of dried blood on the floor.
“I’m afraid she saw it all. We are under instructions to keep that secret, too.”
Darias blinked. How could his mother be thumbing through wedding brochures after witnessing such horrifying scenes? He shook his head. It didn’t bear thinking about.
“She’s a suspect, of course.”
“What?” Darias’s voice boomed off the walls. “Never. Impossible.”
“A murderer is often the first person found at the scene of a crime, for obvious reasons. Of course it’s awkward for the police to even try to question a member of the royal family. So they didn’t.”
“I should hope not.” Darias frowned, assaulted by these fresh horrors that his mother had endured. He shouldn’t have gone back to New York after the funeral. Not for just another gallery show—but he’d had no idea.
Why didn’t she tell him? “I’ll talk to her myself, but I’m sure she had nothing to do with this.” His skin crawled at the sight of all the blood, etched in dried waves on the floor. “There was nothing else in the room?”
“Nothing. His clothes were folded up in the corner of a room downstairs.”
“So he walked up here naked?” Darias couldn’t believe that for a minute.
“We have no way to know for sure.”
“Footprints, on the stone tiles?”
Gibran shrugged. “The early investigations obliterated all footprints outside the immediate crime scenes. The local law enforcement was not well prepared for such a crime.”
“I wouldn’t expect them to be. We haven’t had a murder in Altaleone in years.” He shook his head. “Do you have any theories on motive?”
Gibran tilted his head very slightly. “The current ruler and the successor both die in the same night. The person who stands to benefit most is, of course, the next in line.”
“Me?” The word exploded out. “First, you all but accuse my mother, and now you’re pointing the finger at me? I wasn’t even on the continent of Europe when the murders happened. I was in New York. I suppose you suspect that my mother and I formed a conspiracy—” His voice boomed through the empty halls. “I should fire you for even suggesting it.”
“You certainly can.” This man was totally unruffled. “But I have a strong track record of solving similar crimes. A complex crime like this, where motive and even method are obfuscated, takes time and cunning to solve. As much time and cunning as the crime took to plan and execute.”
Darias turned and walked from the room and down the stairs. He could hear Gibran striding behind him. “Find the killers. And I want to be informed immediately about every step of the investigation. You can continue to keep the ugly details hidden from the press but not from me, do you understand?”
“Of course. And I would prefer if you were under constant guard. If you are not the murderer—” Gibran’s eyes shone with dark mirth. “You must presume that you are in immediate danger.”
“I can take care of myself.”
Dirt flew as Darias drove back through the remote mountain meadows and descended the gentle hillsides toward the village of Casteleone. Even the royal armory had been violated. And those horrible images were etched into his gentle mother’s mind.
He intended to find
the killer and make him pay.
But first he had to make sure his queen didn’t decide to skip town before the wedding.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Emma was drinking mint tea and mostly listening to Beatriz read out an insanely long list of potential wedding guests when Darias burst into the drawing room like a gust of wind.
“You didn’t tell me.” He stared at his mother like he’d seen a ghost.
She paled. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear it. I still can’t.…” She rose to her feet.
“Oh, Mama.” He strode to her and folded her in his arms, hugging her so close that she almost disappeared into him. Emma’s heart squeezed at the sight of so much affection. “I’ll find justice for them—for you—I swear it.”
“What are you talking about, Darias?” Beatriz put down her pen. “Is there something I should know?”
His mother shook her head quickly.
“There is, isn’t there? What happened? Is it about Papa’s death?” She rose to her feet, scraping her chair back. “Don’t treat me like a child. I was born on the same day as Darias, remember? What the heck is going on?”
Darias’s mom glanced at Emma. “We have a new family member with us, my love.” Her voice was choked, almost cracking.
Emma rose to her feet now, too. “Uh, I’m just heading up to my bedroom for a moment.” Clearly something very heavy was going on—likely to do with the murders—and they needed some privacy. She could make herself scarce.
“Wait,” called Darias. “I’m coming with you.”
What? She was leaving to give him time alone with his mom. “Okay.” She climbed the stairs to her room, listening to Darias’s footfalls behind her. She waited until they were somewhat out of earshot. “Did you learn anything new?”
“Did I ever.” His face clouded with emotion. “The circumstances of their deaths were calculated to create rumor and scandal. My mother is right to keep them secret.” He glanced both ways down the hallway. “I don’t know who’s listening to us. Come in.” He led her into her own bedroom, then to her surprise headed straight for a huge carved wardrobe, opened the door, and climbed in next to her hanging items.
“Are we going to Narnia?”
“Come in.” He looked deadly serious.
“Into the wardrobe?”
He looked at her like she might be mildly demented. Then she climbed in with him. It was hard to enter without rubbing against him, and his tempting masculine scent already filled the small space. He closed the door, leaving them in total darkness.
“I can’t have anyone overhear us. Even the staff.”
Her skin prickled at the tension in his voice. “You suspect someone?”
“I suspect everyone.” She cursed the way his low voice sent a flicker of arousal to her core. “And I don’t want anyone to know the details if they don’t have to. If only the killer or killers know the circumstances of the deaths, maybe they will reveal themselves by trying to boast about it or stir up scandal.”
“I guess I shouldn’t ask, then.”
“I know you’re not involved. You were a total random stranger that I pulled off the streets. You are a disinterested observer here, and I value your opinion.”
She listened, intrigued. She was just a paid employee, like the rest of the staff, really. She wasn’t sure how she could help.
“They were both found in compromising positions—undressed and in a strange costume—that they must have been coerced into, either verbally or otherwise. My grandmother was arranged as if participating in a kinky sex act. Our security advisor thinks it has to do with an ancient society they belonged to.”
“You think it was some kind of ritual that went wrong?”
He hesitated, and she could almost feel his pain and confusion in the air, along with the heat from his body in the tight space. “I just don’t know. I realize now that there’s a lot I don’t know. I’ll need to investigate.”
“I’d like to help in any way I can.”
“I appreciate that. The most important thing is for you to stay safe. For me to protect my mother and my younger siblings. To preserve my own life so I can do my duty to my country. I suppose I should apologize for bringing you into a situation rife with danger and uncertainty, but I swear to keep you safe until you can return home.”
“I doubt anyone’s interested in me.”
“I think everyone is interested in you.” He paused and, although it was too dark to see, she could imagine a slow smile crossing his mouth. “Everyone in Altaleone and across the world. An unknown young beauty on the arm of one of Europe’s most eligible monarchs. It’s impossible for them not to be fascinated.”
She frowned. Obviously, he was going somewhere with this line of thought. “How does that affect the current situation?”
“Whoever is responsible for the death of my father and grandmother will be burning with curiosity, too. Clearly, they have some kind of plan and you are not a part of it—you can’t be—so they will want to know how you affect whatever situation they’re trying to bring about. So watch everyone. Pay attention when someone is interested in you. Guard your answers—and tell me everything.”
“I’ll try.”
“We’ll be together as much as possible, of course, as is natural for a new husband and wife. That will also make it easier for me to shield you from danger.”
The way he said the word danger sent a frisson of…something—she wasn’t sure if it was fear or arousal—shivering through her. Darias did seem like the kind of guy you could count on during a zombie apocalypse. His confidence, strength and sheer size were reassuring. But against an invisible foe with unknown motives? She shivered slightly, even in the close atmosphere of the closet. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She said it to reassure herself as much as him.
“I guarantee it—with my life.” His face had moved closer to hers, and she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. Her skin heated. She shifted, bumping awkwardly against the back of the closet and then worse, against him, her arm making contact with his hard chest.
She gasped. “I’m sorry.” Touching him felt wrong. Way wrong.
But she wanted to, and the desire was building with every second they stayed inside the tight, warm space of this closet. She had to get out of there—now!
“I can’t breathe in here.”
He opened the door. Light flooded in, making her blink. He stepped out, then pressed a finger softly to his lips. She nodded, stepping down onto the floor.
Phew! She’d survived that without wrapping her arms around him and planting a wet one on his mouth, but it had been touch and go toward the end. She would definitely have to avoid situations where they were in such close quarters together.
Of course he felt nothing. The attraction was all on her side. That was a relief, of course. Nothing could come of it.
“You should go down and talk to your mom and sister.” She inhaled, trying to get her thoughts back on some kind of sensible track. Which wasn’t easy now that she could see Darias in all his broad-shouldered, dark-eyed glory. “You should probably tell your sister all the details.”
He winced. “I hate to do that.”
“She’ll feel slighted or left out if you don’t.” She could tell his sister was upset about being kept in the dark. She would be, too, in her place. Why did she have any less right to know the facts than Darias? “It was her father and grandmother, too.”
“I want to protect her from the ugliness. I wish with all my heart that I could have been there to find them instead of my mother.”
“Just because they’re women doesn’t mean they’re weak and fragile.” She straightened her back a little, not much liking what seemed like a patronizing attitude.
He frowned and studied her for a moment. “My father raised me to protect the family. He talked about it more than once when we were alone.”
“You think he had any idea what was coming?”
He shook his head slowly. “But you’re right. The
y are adults the same as I am. We must face the situation and make plans together.” His eyes grazed her face for a moment, and she saw something surprising there—respect?—which caused a rumble of strange emotion deep inside her. “I’ll see you downstairs for dinner at eight.”
Once the door closed behind him she collapsed on the bed. Not only had she fought off an overwhelming urge to kiss Darias on the mouth, she’d now given him a feminist lecture about treating his mother and sister as equals. What next?
Dinner took place in a very grand dining room, under the haughty stare of several velvet- and satin-clad ancestors, but was relatively painless. They all dressed informally, and discussion centered mostly around the wedding plans, which were already proceeding at warp speed. Emma’s dress fitting was arranged for the following day, and his mom and Beatriz argued over the date for the wedding.
“As soon as possible, of course!” said his mother. “Why wait?”
Emma swallowed and forked another bite of the strange casserole into her mouth. The food was delicious, just unfamiliar, along with the shiny silverware that was probably real silver and the two different glasses of no-doubt fabulously expensive wine in front of her.
It was in her interest—and presumably Darias’s—to get married as fast as possible, because they had to stay married for one full year in order to meet the rules of the ancient law.
“Your brother wants to marry his beloved as fast as he can, of course.” His mom smiled. “Your father was just the same. We only met twice before the wedding, and he told me that he fell in love with me the moment he laid eyes on me.” Her smile faded. “It’s just so hard to believe that he’s gone. I’m sorry. Let’s focus on the present. I’m so happy for Darias and Emma. Thank goodness we have something joyous to focus on.”
“I just think the people should have a chance to get to know Darias’s bride,” said Beatriz, eyeing Emma with some suspicion “Until yesterday no one had even heard of her.” She turned her gaze to Darias. “Why did you keep Emma such a secret until now?”
The King's Bought Bride (Royal House of Leone Book 1) Page 6
