Twisted: Belle's Story (Destined Book 3)

by Kaylin Lee

  Jade’s mouth tilted up in a sad half-smile. “I will.”

  She turned and slipped through the door to the servant staircase, and Petrina let the door swing shut behind her.

  We rushed through the house toward my father’s study. When we reached the hallway, Petrina grabbed me by the arm and dragged me around the corner toward the guards in front of the door.

  “What's this?” One of them asked.

  “Lady Belle has information about the prince,” she said, deepening her voice. She still didn’t sound anything like Lucas, but perhaps they wouldn’t listen too closely. “My father needs to hear this right now.”

  The guard nodded. “Of course, Lord Lucas.” He knocked on the door to the study. “My lord? Lord Lucas to see you.”

  “Send him in.” My father's cool voice sent chills down my spine.

  Petrina squeezed my arm and pulled me through the door.

  My father’s eyes widened slightly as we entered.

  I wrenched out of Petrina’s grip and stepped forward quickly, hoping to keep his attention away from the false Lucas as long as I could. Petrina remained by the closed door.

  “What are you doing here?” he barked. He did not look pleased. “Lucas, what were you thinking, letting her out?”

  “I begged to speak with you,” I said shakily, scrambling to keep his attention off Petrina’s deteriorating illusion. “I have to tell you something.”

  My father stood from the leather chair beside his hearth. “Well?” He stepped closer, his lip curling. “What is it?”

  “I know everything you’ve done,” I said, trying to sound confident. I had to antagonize him enough to get him near me so I could grab the ring, before he tried to lock me back in Kaia’s room and discovered Kaia and Jade had escaped.

  He raised one well-groomed eyebrow. “I highly doubt that.”

  “I know you murdered Ambrose.”

  My father’s face darkened as he walked toward me, stopping nearly within arms’ reach. “And I’d do it again,” he snarled. “He was always more loyal to your mother than to me.”

  I lifted my chin. “Now I’d like to discover what you know.”

  “What’s the point?” He glanced toward Lucas, as though about to dismiss me.

  I had to act quickly. “Did you know that I’ve been preparing to leave the family since I was sixteen?”

  His face flickered as his gaze returned to me. Good. He hadn’t known.

  “And did you know that I have been working against Bank Argentarius since I was fifteen?”

  He laughed, a harsh, short sound. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “I own a share of every competing bank in the city,” I said. His mocking expression wavered. “Every penny of my allowance has gone toward my investments for four years. Some of my shares are quite profitable.”

  His nostrils flared.

  “When Bank Argentarius falls—and I swear to you, it will—I’ll be untouchable. I’ll be independent from the Argentarius clan and wealthy enough buy up your bank’s pitiful scraps just for the fun of it.” I paused to allow my words to sink in. “Did you know that too?” For once, it felt good to hold the upper hand.

  Emotions flickered across his face too quickly to read. “Lucas,” he growled, “get this little traitor back to the room.”

  I heard footsteps behind me, then a groan, and the sound of a body hitting the floor.

  “What the—” My father started toward the door. “Who are you? Where is my son?”

  Petrina cowered on the floor, looking deathly pale, and no longer anything like Lucas. We’d pushed her too hard. She must have lost the illusion when she collapsed.

  I darted between Petrina and my father and jammed my hand in his pocket for the ring. He shoved at me, startled by my sudden movement, but I already had the tingly, sparkling ring in my grip. I rushed toward Petrina’s prone form and wrapped my arms around her. “Hold on tight,” I said to Petrina as I shoved the ring onto my finger.

  My father grabbed me by the shoulder, then drew a tiny crystal vial out of his coat pocket. “Enough. I’m done with you.”

  He shoved the vial into my face.

  I tried not to breathe.

  My father’s fingers dug into my shoulder like talons as he pressed the vial against my nose.

  Still holding my breath, I threw my upper body backward, then lifted my legs and kicked his chest as hard as I could. His grip loosened, then broke.

  I was free. I twisted the ring.

  There was a deafening snap, and then my skin began to burn.

  Chapter 33

  Excruciating pain sizzled through my body—tingles like tiny knives rushed through my veins. I tightened my grip on Petrina as bleak, blinding whiteness rushed at us from all sides. My father’s study vanished, but we weren’t in Estevan’s office, either. We were in some horrible in-between state.

  For an impossible, eternal moment, Petrina and I remained in the blinding white whirlwind, and I knew nothing but the sensation of my skin being ripped from my body by a thousand grains of sand.

  Then, as soon as it had appeared, the excruciating pain and the wind were gone. We collapsed onto a hard, wooden floor.

  I groaned and tried to move, but my skin hurt too much. I thought I could feel something under my arms, but I couldn’t seem to open my eyes to check. “Petrina?” The word croaked out, and silence greeted me. Had I left her with my father?

  “Did you kill us?” Petrina’s whisper seemed to be coming from right next to my ear.

  I cracked one eye open, then managed to release my arms from the death grip they had around her shoulders. “Possibly.”

  She opened her eyes. “Where are we? Why is it so bright?”

  Estevan’s office. We were right next to him!

  I struggled to my feet. Estevan’s body was still on the desk, his skin glowing so brightly I had to squint to see him. I pressed one hand to his throat and nearly collapsed with relief when I felt the faint pulse. “He’s still alive. We need a healer. A purifier and a healer!”

  Petrina pulled herself up on a chair, her face pale and wan. “I thought he didn’t allow mages in the palace,” she rasped.

  I shook my head. “He doesn’t. But right now, he’s making an exception.” I slipped out the door, shut it behind me, and forced my feet to move quickly despite the crisp, tight feeling in my burned skin.

  Bri and Alba’s room was near the hallway that had held mine. I lurched to the door and grabbed the doorframe to stay upright. “Bri? Alba?” I banged on the door.

  Alba cracked it open, then gaped at me. “Belle? What happened to you?”

  “No time,” I gasped. “You and Bri are coming with me now.”

  The twin girls exchanged a look, then gripped each other’s arms and accompanied me to Estevan’s office without argument.

  They stumbled to a halt at the sight of Estevan’s prone, glowing body.

  Bri whirled toward me. “What is going on?”

  I slammed the door shut and locked it. “You need to save him.” I grabbed her hand, then Alba’s. “No one can know. The city’s in danger of falling right now, and he doesn’t have much time left.”

  “But … it’s aurae, isn’t it?” Alba shivered. “We don’t know anything about aurae!”

  “You do. You just read that article to me this morning, didn’t you? A healer and a purifier working together can remove aurae just like the plague.”

  “But we don’t know how!” Alba wailed.

  I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her once. “You are a healer. Your sister is a purifier. Am I wrong?”

  “N-n-no,” she mumbled.

  I let go and turned to Bri. “You survived thirteen years in hiding, and then you survived being kidnapped by the Crimson Blight. Now you’re the only mages in a palace where mages are normally barred from entering, and you just so happen to have the exact skills needed to save the prince from an assassination attempt. It’s like you were born to do this.” I look
ed between the two of them. “Bri. Alba. Stop worrying and get to work.”

  Bri nodded slowly, then grabbed Alba by the arm and dragged her to Estevan’s glowing body. “Come on. I’ll go first, and then you.”

  I collapsed to the floor beside Petrina and tried not to think about the way Bri’s hands shook as she placed them on Estevan’s back.

  They worked in silence, with only the occasional murmured whisper between the two of them. I leaned my head back against the wall as we waited.

  Someone tapped lightly on the door, and I tensed.

  “Your Highness? I’m here for the mirror,” he said.

  It was Damon. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Petrina slumped in her chair, barely conscious, and Alba and Bri kept working, so absorbed they must not have heard the knock.

  I struggled to my feet and went to the door, then cracked it open. “Damon?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Lady Belle? You’re back already? Are you well?”

  “Inside,” I hissed. “Quickly.”

  I widened the crack and let him through, then shut and locked the door.

  “What—" He stood in the office and stared blankly at the prince’s silver halo. “How—”

  “My father,” I answered softly. “He poisoned Estevan with an aurae overdose. The twins are trying to remove it.”

  He jerked his head toward Bri and Alba, who stood with their hands on the prince, ignoring our conversation. “Do they know what they’re doing?”

  I rubbed at one temple. “Does it matter? They’re all we’ve got. He was nearly dead when I arrived. And if they fail …”

  Damon nodded grimly. “The city falls. The Procus patriarchs will fight over the throne until they’ve destroyed us all. You haven’t told anyone else how far gone he is, have you?”

  “No,” I whispered. I swallowed painfully, suddenly unable to speak.

  I wobbled over to Estevan and placed one hand on his. His skin was cool, his hand unmoving beneath mine. The tingles from aurae’s glow pressed hard against my skin, but they were nothing compared to the residual burn from the ancient Kireth ring.

  For a long time, I did nothing but hold his hand and watch Bri’s expressionless face. Then Bri frowned suddenly, her eyes still squeezed shut, and the blinding silver glow began to fade, slowly at first and then rapidly.

  “Is it working?” I asked Bri in a hushed whisper.

  For several breaths, she ignored me, keeping her eyes shut as her frown grew deeper. Then she pulled her hands away and opened her eyes. “I got it. Alba, go! Hurry!”

  Alba replaced Bri’s hands with hers and bit her lip, then pulled her hands away and whimpered.

  Bri grabbed Alba’s hands and shoved them onto Estevan’s back. “Now. There’s no time to waste, Alba.” She peered into Alba’s worried face. “You can do this. You’re stronger than you know, sis. You always have been.”

  Looking terrified, Alba shut her eyes one more time. A warm cloud of gold sparkles enveloped Estevan’s unmoving body.

  We waited one minute … then another. The sparkles dissipated, and Alba stepped back, smiling hesitantly. “I’m finished.” She swallowed and shook her head, as though unable to believe what she’d just done. “He’ll be fine.”

  Chapter 34

  “I’ll get someone from the Sentinels,” Damon said. “Discreetly.”

  I nodded numbly as Bri and Alba stepped away from Estevan’s quiet body. “I’ll stay here.”

  His mouth tilted up. “I imagine so.”

  Before I could wonder what he meant by that statement, he was gone. I pressed my hand against Estevan’s, reveling at the lack of tingles on his skin. My skin felt tight and parched from using the ring, and every brush of my skin against his hand was torture. But I couldn’t let go.

  Someone handed me a handkerchief. I mopped the moisture from my eyes with my free hand as I leaned my weight against Estevan’s worn, paper-strewn desk. “When will he wake?” My voice was hoarse.

  Alba placed one gentle hand on my arm. “I don’t know. A few hours, maybe. His body is drained, but with some rest, he’ll feel much better.”

  There was a rumbling of male voices outside the door, and then Damon tapped lightly. “I’m back, my lady.”

  I nodded to Bri, and she unlocked the door. Damon entered, followed closely by Cole and Andres, whose eyes widened at the sight of Estevan sleeping at his desk.

  “Damon briefed us,” Andres said when he was over the initial shock. “Cole, we’ll need a rotating guard outside until he wakes. And Belle …” He turned to me, his expression grim. “I hate to ask this of you at such a time, but we need to know. Did you manage to find anything we might use to officially charge your father with smuggling?”

  “And murder. And insurrection,” I replied quietly, releasing Estevan’s hand. “He admitted to everything. I have three witnesses, four including myself.”

  Andres raised his eyebrows. “Witnesses? Who?”

  “My old appearance mage, Petrina,” I said, gesturing to her unconscious form, collapsed in a chair by Estevan’s desk. “And my sisters.”

  Andres nodded curtly. “We’ll arrange for them to give statements to the Ministry of Justice immediately. Where are they now?”

  I pressed the palms of my hands to my eyes, suddenly exhausted. “At a hospital in the River Quarter, if all went as planned.”

  Andres frowned questioningly, but I shook my head. “I’ll go find them now.”

  Cole put out one hand as I moved unsteadily toward the door. “Are you certain? Perhaps you should remain here and rest—”

  “I’m certain.” I forced my spine to straighten. “My sisters need me now.” I’d find the strength. I wouldn’t let them down again.

  Besides, I didn’t want to be here when Estevan awoke. I couldn’t look him in the eye, knowing he’d nearly died, knowing that even though he’d survived, he’d never be mine.

  My injured heart wouldn’t survive it.

  Chapter 35

  “How’s this, Mistress Belle?”

  I stepped back for a better view as the young woodworker apprentice and his elderly master adjusted the hand-carved sign.

  Snow fluttered down from the heavy winter sky and caught on my eyelashes. I brushed the melting snowflakes away and tilted my head. “Argentarius Investments,” I read aloud to myself for the hundredth time that week. The name still made my stomach flutter with excitement. The narrow, wooden sign with gilded letters hung above the door, exactly aligned with the center of the white, snow-covered shop awning. “It’s perfect. Thank you, sirs.”

  I paid the master and sent them both home, then did one more walk through the quiet, warm offices on the ground floor of the shop.

  The space I’d purchased in the Merchant Quarter was so small, the single suffio hearth in the main office was enough to heat the whole ground floor, even with snow drifts piling up against the front windows all day.

  Each tiny office room held a single desk, two chairs, and a small luminous overhead. I’d stocked the desks with enough paper and pencils to last years. My first few hires would begin their work officially at my new investment firm the next day. I’d wanted to be prepared, but perhaps I’d gone a bit overboard.

  The quiet office space was humble and unassuming, belying the massive fund we’d be managing when I finished liquidating the many investments I’d made in the past four years. I was spacing out the transactions as father’s competitors grew in value. If I timed it right, I could get the maximum value for each sale. I was determined that my new venture would start off well.

  I ran a hand across the small, narrow front desk, where my new secretary would sit. It should have been Ambrose’s chair. We’d planned this new venture for three years. Thanks to my father’s greed and darkness, Ambrose would never take the place he deserved at my side.

  “Belle!” Jade called from upstairs. “Stop obsessing over the alignment of furniture and come up here! Kaia’s making coffee. You have to see this.
”

  I laughed under my breath. “I’m not obsessing over furniture,” I called back.

  “Paper and pencils, then,” she said, appearing at the top of the stairs. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “Oh, fine. I’m coming.” I dodged her playful attempt to muss my hair as I slipped past her at the top of the stairs and entered our sitting room.

  Like the ground floor, the living quarters upstairs were small, though I’d been assured many times by my agent that I’d purchased one of the largest, finest office facilities the Merchant Quarter had to offer.

  Tall front windows covered one side of the sitting room, and outside, twilight was falling over the snowy city. Warm, yellow luminous lamps lit the sitting room from several small tables. I pulled off my snow-wet jacket and hung it on a hook beside the door.

  “What’s this about coffee?” I peeked my head from the sitting room into the tiny kitchen beside it. Something smelled oddly sour. “Kaia, you’re not cooking, are you? That can’t be safe.”

  Kaia lifted the coffee pot with a flourish and posed dramatically, showing off a curve-hugging apron over her common house dress. “I look quite pretty when I’m being domestic, don’t I?”

  “Um … quite. Did you actually make the afternoon coffee?”

  Kaia frowned. “I boiled the water and added the grounds. I strained it through the press.” She leaned forward and sniffed the coffee pot. “So … that means I made coffee. Right?”

  I smothered a laugh and got three mugs from the shelf above the sink. “Excellent work. Let’s serve it, then. If it tastes off, we can always add more cream.”

  Kaia poured three neat cups and frowned. “Work,” she said, turning the word over in her mouth. “I suppose I did, didn’t I?”

  I shook my head and smiled. “You did indeed.”

  We carried the mugs to the sitting room and joined Jade on the couches by the snowy window, where flurries rushed down by the light of the luminous street lamps that had just turned on. The sky was a soft, dimming gray, and the street was quiet, the normal sounds of commerce hushed by the thick blanket of fresh snow.