by Athena Dore
“You’re all right? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours”.
“I’m with the Order of Jessick”.
“Have they hurt you?” He sounded angry.
Tobias took the phone from her before she could reply.
“Tobias Maximus Heath here” he said, “You know where to find me when you’re willing to negotiate”.
He ended the call.
“Why can’t you just leave him alone?”
Tobias turned to her.
“Because, Miss Phillips, I see his potential. To you, he is a mere man, but to me, to us…. under the benevolent guidance and tutelage of the Order, with his abilities, he could be great”.
“So why are you trying to blackmail him into giving you money?”
“Not blackmailing, but creating a mutually beneficial relationship. He provides financial backing and the social status of being the 15th Duke of Wyvern; we offer him help, support and training for his condition and anything he desires, even down to the simple things in life. If he needs human meat, we can supply it without being caught by the law; if he wants to live a normal life with the woman he loves, without the fear of turning, we can provide that too”.
“But he obviously doesn’t want your help”.
“He doesn’t realise he needs – not merely wants – our help. He came to us once and we gave him refuge. Our door is eternally open for him”.
“If you’re as benevolent as you say you are, why kidnap me?”
Tobias sighed.
“I find that certain individuals require a little more persuasion than others. Love can be a powerful tool, Miss Phillips. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Love is not a tool to manipulate people with” Rochelle said. Tobias shrugged.
“If it works, it works. But enough for today,” he said, “The hour grows late. I’d be honoured if I had the pleasure of your company at dinner”.
Rochelle wasn’t really in a position to refuse but she could see quite clearly now what Xavier meant by the Order hiding under the pretence of being a kind and charitable organisation. If Tobias Maximus Heath was anything to go by, there was something very sinister and very unsettling about the Order of Jessick.
* * *
Xavier was fuming, standing on top of the Cathedral of Saint Mary of the Flower that night. He’d visited the Italian and called the British division of the Order and both had denied they had Rochelle. It seemed the kidnap was a spur of the moment attack and the information had not yet trickled down the ranks.
Calling the British division – after all these years, they still had the same number – had made his hair stand on end and brought back all kinds of dark memories, memories he’d kept buried for so long. They were painful. He hadn’t been prepared for the reality that they could still hurt him. But he’d closed his eyes, taken a deep breath and told himself that this was for Rochelle. If it was for Rochelle, he’d have the strength to call them, the strength to face the Order once again.
Come when you’re willing to negotiate? He’d gone beyond that now, so far beyond.
Tobias Maximus Heath. Yes, he knew where he was. And taking Rochelle… Things had just got personal.
His recent recurrent nightmares pushed to the forefront of his mind. He felt he had an explanation. He wouldn’t feel this way about wanting to protect her if it was because he wanted to eat her. That would signify that she was just an object to be despatched. No, the fury scorching through him, burning his veins told him said he was angry because she meant so much to him, he would die if it meant she could live and the thought that he might be the one to harm her, that he was capable of it and he couldn’t control it… that was his darkest and most harrowing of his fears. He was so scared of hurting her, he was afraid of turning. But now, the ruthless, pure anger within was so strong he could not contain his beastly side any longer. Blood would be spilled that night.
A horrendous crash ripped through the room as the large window in the dining room shattered. At the dining table, Rochelle flinched. Tobias jumped up, rushing to the door.
“Guards!” he called but the guards were already rushing in. Tobias slipped past them, out of the door, and left them to their fate.
Crouched on the floor in front of the dark, gaping hole where the window had once been was the creature. The glass shards in its dark hair and on its massive wings sparkled like a shower of precious jewels. Its muscles rippled beneath its skin as it stood up and its eyes burnt with a raging aggression.
“Xavier…” whispered Rochelle, clasping a hand to her mouth. He was fully the beast now. He had claws. And as he bellowed, she saw his teeth were sharp and jagged.
Rage bubbled up from deep within. The beast and the man were united in their cause. He snarled at the guards, deep and menacing. But they held their ground. He gripped the shirt of the guard closest to him, hurling him backwards until he hit the dining table. Rochelle cried out in shock as he landed near her.
Xavier moved on, clawing at the next until he fell in a pool of his own blood, pouncing on another and bashing his head repeatedly against the cold floor until he brains spilled out. The fourth guard tried to run. Xavier caught hold of his forearm and clenched it hard. Rochelle shuddered as she heard the crack of his bones. The man screamed. Xavier swung him round and snatching his head between his hands, twisted his head to the left in a sharp, quick motion.
The guard fell to the ground, silenced, his neck broken.
Xavier looked up, his amber eyes falling on Rochelle.
Rochelle looked at him. Would he recognise her, or, driven by the momentum of killing, would he come to kill her too?
Within a second, he was over by the dining table, forcing her back against the wall. She stared back at him evenly, trying not to show her fear.
“Xavier…” she said, “Xavier, it’s me”.
He snarled at her, baring his teeth. She tried not to flinch, tried not to think that the last time had been luck.
She stroked the side of his face, the nape of his neck. Something fluttered across his eyes – not quite Xavier but the beast ceased attacking. She brought him close to her, letting her fingers dance over his shoulders, down his back.
“It’s okay, Xavier, I’m here”.
She could feel his wrath leaving him, the tenseness in his body relaxing. She closed her eyes, and took deep breaths, matching her breathing to his. She murmured soothing words. She didn’t know if the creature could understand but he seemed to respond to the tone of her voice, as though he recognised it.
For a while, she stayed like this, waiting for the beast to calm down and for Xavier to return. Eventually, she felt his arms tighten around her.
Xavier was back.
“I’m so glad you’re safe” he said.
He pulled away and took her hand.
“Come on, let’s go” he said.
Before she could say anything, or do anything, Rochelle saw the knife plunge into Xavier’s side. The guard ran through the door. It was the guard who had ended up at the dinner table.
Rochelle screamed. Her heart froze. She couldn’t breathe. Xavier doubled over, clutching his abdomen, blood gushing to the mouth of his wound and spilling over his fingers. She rushed over to him. He collapsed. She caught him. He was too heavy for her to bear his full weight for long and she sank to the ground with him, easing his fall into a gentle descent.
“Help!” she screamed, “Someone help me! Please”. But there was no one there. Hot tears welled in her eyes.
“Xavier…” she whimpered.
She reached into his trouser pocket and took out his phone. He couldn’t go to hospital. She dialled the emergency number he had given her, with trembling, blood-smeared fingers and put it on loudspeaker so she could have her hands free while she made a futile attempt to stop the bleeding. There was so much blood. Too much blood. It started to ooze out over the floor in a crimson-black pool. She didn’t know a person could bleed this much.
Xavier’s hands were shaking.
His breathing was shallow and rasping. She removed her jacket and tied it round him in an attempt to stem the bleeding while she spoke to the emergency services. She was hardly composed enough to speak. She wasn’t aware what she was saying, or whether or not she sounded coherent and she couldn’t stop herself from crying. Xavier… no. This couldn’t be real.
“They’re on their way” she said to him after the call had ended. His hand drifted towards hers where it lay on his abdomen, where her jacket was already saturated with his blood. Why was he starting to feel cold?
“Ro…chelle”, he said, “I love you”.
“No,” she cried, fresh tears running down her cheeks, “Don’t say that now!”
Isn’t this what people said when they were dying, when they were giving up? She wouldn’t reply to him. Even if he had, she wouldn’t give up. She would have enough hope for both of them.
His eyes rolled for a fleeting moment.
“Stay with me, Xavier” .
She grasped his hand and clung to him desperately. What if…no, she didn’t want to think it. Would not think it. But what if… what if he was dying and she didn’t say it? She would regret it for the rest of her life.
“I love you” she whispered, hating how she had to accept the possibility that this was the last time she might utter those words, that he might... die. It felt like she’d given up herself.
His lips twitched in a feeble smile. He squeezed her hand. It was only a slight, weak pressure.
And then, his eyes closed.
~*~
Knight-in-Arms Series
Part One: Secrets
Part Two: Trust
Part Four: Ultimatum
When Xavier falls ill after their holiday in Italy, Rochelle suspects he has been poisoned and can guess who did it.
Tobias Maximus Heath agrees to help save Xavier but only if she does something for him in return.
However, when he presents Rochelle with an ultimatum where in order to save Xavier, she must let an innocent life perish, will she be able to come to a decision in time and how will it affect her ever deepening relationship with Xavier?
