In The Assassin's Arms (Daggers 0f Desire Book 1)

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In The Assassin's Arms (Daggers 0f Desire Book 1) Page 15

by Katherine Hastings


  “Go! Go!” Connor shouted, and they galloped off into the cover of the forest. John held Charlie in his lap as Duke dug in with ground-covering strides. Duchess kept pace beside them as they raced through the woods. John pressed his hand on Charlie’s wound to stop the bleeding. Her blue eyes looked up at him before slipping closed.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “GET HER ON THE TABLE!” Viktor roared, pushing the plates and cups to the ground. They shattered in pieces as John lay Charlie down.

  “Hang on, Charlie, just hang on.” John stroked her red hair as he stood over her.

  “Heat my sword,” Viktor demanded, tossing the cold metal blade to Connor. He caught it by the hilt and scurried over to the waning fire leftover from that morning. Connor blew on the remnants and shoved more kindling into the embers. The wood chips burst into flames and lit up the dark room with warm firelight. His plunged the tip of the sword into the fire.

  “Just breathe, Charlie.” John kissed her forehead and squeezed her hand. “Don’t you leave me! You understand? You can’t leave me. I need you.”

  She opened her eyes.

  “Charlie!” He grabbed her and kissed her face. “Hang in there, baby. We will patch you up.”

  She nodded as he stared down at her. She looked so weak and fragile laying there. John’s heart raced with fear. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. He had just found her.

  “Ready,” Connor said, approaching with the heated steel. Viktor’s sword glowed orange as steam billowed from the tip.

  “This is gonna hurt, love.” Viktor leaned down and touched her cheek. “I highly recommend passing out again.”

  Charlie nodded.

  “John’s with you, love. Just think about him. It will be over soon,” Viktor soothed. John glanced across the table at Viktor as he grabbed the sword from Connor. They exchanged a glance and a nod.

  John grabbed Charlie’s hand and pressed his lips to her forehead. She screamed as the hot metal seared into her skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the tears while he held her writhing body. “You’re all right, Charlie. Just stay with me.”

  She finally gave in to the pain and passed out. John felt relief when her body went limp. He couldn’t stand to see her in pain. The smell of her burning flesh made his stomach turn.

  “It’s done,” Viktor said, pulling the sword from the wound. “He used a hell of a tip on that arrow. Nearly blew a hole in her side.”

  “He has them made special,” John huffed, remembering the day his uncle showed him the damage one of his arrows could inflict. That he had used one on Charlie took John’s newfound hatred for the man to a level he hadn’t imagined was possible.

  “She’ll be all right, John. She’s strong. Stronger than you think.”

  John nodded and squeezed her hand. “I can’t lose her.”

  “You won’t,” Viktor said, squeezing his shoulder.

  “What the hell happened back there?” Connor kicked the chair and spit on the floor. “It’s like he knew we were coming!”

  “My uncle has many talents. I underestimated him,” John said, shaking his head.

  “Your underestimating cost the lives of three of my men,” Viktor said.

  “Viktor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

  “It’s all right. They knew the risks when they joined. Dying in battle is the greatest honor a Liberta can receive. They drink in the afterlife with whores in their laps tonight.”

  “Hear, hear,” Connor chimed in.

  “You have my condolences,” John said.

  “What is the plan now? Your cover is blown. Did you at least find evidence of his crimes?”

  John shook his head.

  Viktor shrugged. “Looks like your life as the Grand Master of the Order of Lions has come to an end. Luckily for you, I have a few new openings on my crew. I have to admit, you were impressive with that sword.”

  John chuckled. A pirate. His life had unraveled, and he was now being offered a new one as a pirate. “Thank you for the offer, Viktor, but I intend to avenge my father... and hers.”

  “I suppose he will look for you now?” Connor asked.

  “He will never stop looking for me. Charlie and I won’t be safe until my dagger snuffs the life from him. Clearing my name may no longer be an option, but taking his life is still all that matters.”

  “Then you have my sword.” Viktor stepped forward.

  “And mine.”

  John nodded and looked down at Charlie. She looked so fragile laying there. The bleeding had stopped since Viktor cauterized the wound, but the damage inside was still undetermined.

  “I need men. Lots of them. My uncle will be waiting, and he will bring with him an army like we haven’t yet seen.”

  “We can get men,” Viktor said.

  “All we need to do is spread word we’re killing members of the Order and every Liberta across the English countryside will stand in line for their turn,” Connor said, laughing.

  “Then do it. Get me men. Rally the forces. We will let Charlie heal and then we will attack. And this time, we’ll be ready.”

  Connor and Viktor stepped forward, each with an outstretched hand. John grasped Viktor’s first and pressed his hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Viktor. She was right to trust you.”

  He moved to Connor and gripped his hand. “Thank you, Connor.”

  “We will return in a week with an army that will trample your uncle’s.” Connor said.

  “I look forward to it.” He nodded as they headed for the door.

  Viktor glanced back over his shoulder. “Take care of her. She needs you.”

  John shook his head and watched them leave. He stepped back to Charlie’s side and lifted her from the cold, hard table. He lay her on the bed and pulled the covers up tight around her neck.

  “Stay with me, Charlie.”

  SHE SLEPT FOR ALMOST twenty-four hours while John paced the room. He applied honey to the wound every few hours and prayed for the first time since childhood. He saw the blanket shift. Her fingertips moved as a groan escaped her lips.

  “Charlotte!” He fell to his knees at her side. “I’m right here.”

  “John?” she asked.

  “I’m right here, Charlie.” His lips planted soft kisses on her hand as he clutched it between his. He’d never been so happy to see a pair of conscious eyes before in his life. “I’m so glad you’re all right. I thought I would lose you for a moment there.”

  Her black eyelashes fluttered as her eyes peeked open. John felt a surge in his stomach when she looked up at him. “I’m far too stubborn to die, John.”

  He stared at her with a blank look on his face and burst into laughter. She smiled and squeezed his hand.

  “Thank God, you’re all right.” He leaned up and kissed her forehead.

  “Water. I’m parched,” she said, her gritty voice confirming it.

  “Of course!” John hopped up so fast, he tripped. He scooped a ladle of water into a cup and brought it back to her bedside. “Here,” he said, tipping the cup to her lips.

  She took a long, slow drink until the last of the cold liquid had disappeared.

  “More?” he asked, pulling the cup away.

  She shook her head. “That’s plenty for now. Thank you.”

  “Are you too cold? Too warm? Does it hurt?” He fussed over her.

  “John. You’re acting like an old, worried mother.” She chuckled, then her face twisted in pain, and she grabbed her side. “Laughing. Not a good idea.”

  “See! You’re hurt! I’ve all the right in the world to fuss over you. You scared me half to death. I thought I’d lost you, Charlie.”

  “I suppose it may have been a little touch and go there for a while.”

  “A little? You almost bled to death on the way here. You are lucky to be alive.”

  “I have you to thank for that,” she whispered, smiling her gratitude.

  “Viktor, too. He did the hard part
and cauterized your wound. I don’t know I would have had it in me.”

  “I told you he’s not half bad.”

  “It seems Viktor and I might be on our way to something resembling a friendship,” John admitted.

  “That is something I need to see for myself.”

  “And you will. Actually, Viktor might be what I would call my very first real friend,” he said, shaking his head.

  “What are you talking about? How can you not have friends?”

  “The Lions are so secret that we don’t even know each other’s identities. We wear cloaks, mostly work alone and never exchange names when we have a situation where we have to work together. The only friends I have are for my cover and my father, uncle and a few of the higher ups with top security clearance. Considering my father and Henry are dead, and my uncle is trying to kill me, it seems I don’t have any friends. Except you... and perhaps Viktor. It’s a little sad now that I say it out loud.”

  “You think I have problems trusting? At least I have friends.” She chuckled and then grimaced in pain.

  “Don’t overdo it,” he said.

  “Where are they? The others?”

  “Connor and Viktor have ridden to rally the troops. They should be back within a week.”

  “What about clearing your name?”

  “It’s too late for that. I need to say goodbye to my life as John Wesley Douglas.”

  “We still get to kill your uncle, though, right?”

  “Nothing will make me happier.”

  “Good. He’s a real arse. He shot me.”

  John laughed. “I can see that. And yes, he’s a real arse.”

  “What the hell kind of arrows was he using?” Charlie pulled back the covers and lifted the cloth covering her wound. “It looks like he shot me with a tree.”

  “He has them custom made. They pack quite a punch.”

  “I’ll say. I’m getting me some of those for when I kill him.”

  “You mean when I kill him.”

  “Oh, no. He killed my father and he shot me. I get the honors.”

  “He’s my uncle and he killed my father and he tried to have me assassinated in a cell and he shot my girl. I get the honors.”

  “Your girl, huh?” She waggled her eyebrows.

  John felt the heat flush in his cheeks.

  “Now who’s blushing?”

  “I’m not blushing,” he challenged.

  “You’re not, huh? Then what is that pink flush in your cheeks?”

  “Charlie...”

  “I’m just saying, my cheeks flushed pink before and you accused me of blushing. So, are you saying that in fact I wasn’t blushing, and neither are you?” She smirked, delighting in not only his blush but her verbal victory.

  John laughed. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. We’re trained killers. We don’t blush.”

  “Finally. We agree.”

  John crawled into bed beside her and slid his arm around her shoulder. She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes as she leaned up against him.

  “I’m glad you’re alive, Charlie. Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “So, about this whole ‘my girl’ thing,” he began. “Would it be so horrible if one was to call you that?”

  She sat silently, trying to suppress her smile. “I suppose not.”

  “So, one might be able to safely say that you and I are, a couple?”

  “If one needed to label it, I suppose that word would suffice.”

  “So that’s what I would tell people?”

  “I guess I’ll allow it.”

  John breathed a heavy sigh and tipped her chin up to his. Her blue eyes sparkled again with the mischief he had grown to love so much.

  “Then it’s settled,” he said as he kissed her lips.

  “I suppose it is.” She smiled between kisses.

  “Well, I guess it’s my job to make sure you survive to remain my girl, so I’m going to go grab us a rabbit or a deer. I can’t have you wasting away to skin and bones.”

  “You’d miss my breasts too much,” she teased.

  John lifted the cover and peered down at their lush fullness. “Indeed. No sense in spoiling a good thing. Twice the portions for you.”

  Charlie laughed and grabbed her side in pain again. “Stop making me laugh,” she groaned.

  “You started it!” he countered. “Stay put. I’ll be back.”

  With one last kiss on her head, John hopped out of bed and headed to the door. He glanced over his shoulder for one last look. Her smile twisted his stomach again. He blew her a kiss and stepped out into the falling light. It would be dark soon, so he would need to hurry.

  CHARLIE LAY IN BED watching the door, waiting for John to return, more uncomfortable than she’d admitted. The pain in her side caused a shudder to course through her exhausted body. She welcomed the solitude so she could grimace and groan without John’s hovering. He really was like a concerned mother, or at least what she imagined one would be like. She had no memories of her own, tender or otherwise.

  Sometimes she wondered how different her life would have been if her mother had been alive. Would she have been raised with bows in her hair instead of dirt on her knees? Would she be married now, with children asleep in her arms? Would her father still be alive?

  So much of her life could be different. She would be different. Her feelings for John were so foreign, so scary. If she had been raised by a mother, maybe being vulnerable with a man would come more easily to her. Charlie pushed the thoughts from her head, her gaze moving to the door.

  Against all odds, she had found a way to feel deeply about a man, to trust one completely. She had taken lovers, like Viktor, over the years but to truly give herself to someone was something she had never contemplated. Until now. Suddenly, all she wanted, all she needed, was just on the other side of that door. John.

  The thought still made her stomach uneasy and she tried to push fears of losing him from her mind. The potential pain from that grim possibility had made her turn from him in the beginning. Now she needed to embrace it, to let herself feel for him fully and trust he wouldn’t hurt her. He would never leave her. She didn’t know how she knew it, but she did. He was hers and she was his... just as she had dreamed of when she was a little girl.

  The door flew open and John rushed to her side.

  “What is it?” she sat too fast, grimacing as the pain seared through her side.

  “They found us. My uncle. They are riding here now. We have to go.”

  She had no time to answer as he swept her up into his arms. She cringed through the pain and wrapped her arms around his neck. He carried her to the pasture and set her down on the grass beside him.

  “Duke! Duchess! Come!” he shouted. The two horses trotted over side by side and stopped in front of him. John slid a bit into Duchess’ mouth and tossed the reins over her neck. He lifted Charlie up onto her bare back and pressed the reins into her hands.

  “You need to ride, Charlie. Ride to Viktor’s ship.”

  “John, what about you?” She felt her throat tighten when she looked down at him.

  “There’s no time. You’re injured. I need to lead them away. It’s me they are hunting anyway. You need to go, Charlie. Now.”

  “I’m not going without you!” she argued, while Duchess danced below her.

  “There’s no time for this. You need to get to safety. I need you to live. We cannot outrun them. You need to go.”

  “John...” her voice trailed off. “I don’t want to go on without you.”

  “You have to. You need to ride to Viktor. Heal up. Then come back and avenge our fathers. Avenge me. Do you understand me?”

  She nodded through the tears.

  “I love you, Charlie.” He leaned up and grabbed her face, kissing her lips hard. “Now go!” he shouted as he released her, then slapped Duchess on the haunches.

  Charlie’s lip trembled as Duchess spu
n away. She looked back over her shoulder to see him standing there, watching her go. Tears slipped down her cheeks as her horse broke into a canter and slipped into the safety of the woods. She choked back her tears, a mixture of pain from her side and her heart.

  She rode as hard as her injury would allow until she reached the top of the hill overlooking the valley below. She saw the men marching in twos, Thomas leading the way several lengths ahead with John in ropes trailing behind him.

  “John.”

  Her voice cracked when she watched him disappear into the darkness. The tears flowed freely now, tiny rivulets of agony that pooled above her upper lip. She hadn’t said it back. She wouldn’t get to tell him she loved him, too. Now it might be too late. Charlie shook the thought from her head as she leaned down and whispered into Duchess’ twitching ear. “We need to find Viktor. We need to save John. Let’s go, girl.”

  Charlie spun Duchess around and trotted down the hill toward Scarborough, where his ship was usually docked. She had come too far with John to lose him now. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to save him. She loved him. A rush of relief washed over her as she finally admitted it to herself. Now she needed to save him so she could tell him in person.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  JOHN LOOKED UP AT THE hill and saw the silhouette sitting on a grey mare. Charlie’s red hair twirled in the breeze.

  “What are you looking at?” Thomas snorted and yanked on the rope that secured John’s wrists. He turned around, hoping his uncle wouldn’t see her.

  “Nothing.”

  Thomas turned around in his saddle. His eyes searched the hill above. John squeezed his eyes tight praying he wouldn’t see her. He would have men chase her down and slaughter her with the twitch of his wrist. John took a deep breath and opened his eyes to look back to the hill. She was gone. He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You seeing ghosts?” Thomas asked, chuckling as he pulled John along. “Did you bury the redhead here or did you dump her body while you ran for your life?”

  John clenched his jaw.

  “Well?”

  “She’s buried. And I’ll have your head for it,” John snarled. In his uncle’s unbearable arrogance, he just assumed his shot had ended her. It was safest for her that he continue to believe it. John would play along.

 

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