After the War: Military Dystopian Thriller (Friends of my Enemy Book 2)

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After the War: Military Dystopian Thriller (Friends of my Enemy Book 2) Page 20

by Autumn M. Birt


  Danielle flinched before she straightened, but she’d composed herself to laugh it off by the time she claimed a chair opposite his desk. “So this is going to be that sort of conversation?” she asked, removing her coat before sitting.

  “How is your father?” David asked blandly as Clara entered again, carrying a tray of tea and biscuits.

  Danielle gave him a temperamental smile as she responded. “Some of his strength has returned, which has surprised the doctors. Obviously, they don’t know how determined he can be.”

  “So, is there someone else?” David asked when they were alone again.

  “Are you jealous I’ve found another lover?” Danielle asked.

  “No. I simply would like to know how much Renault has guessed. It impacts decisions that I must make.”

  “Ah yes, you, my father, and MOTHER,” Danielle said. She looked away with a shrug. “There is someone else.”

  David had expected that answer. The self-conscious girl he had met at her brother’s funeral would never have breezed into his study, wearing a dress more see-through than not, much less try to kiss him like that. Still, it hurt.

  “You have to break it off,” David said flatly.

  Danielle laughed. “Why? You are jealous, aren’t you?”

  “My son, your fiancé, is seeing someone else. That is why.”

  Danielle flicked her fingers. “Why would I care about that? I hardly need him anymore. My father will be dead soon, and then I will not need this sham engagement to hide behind.”

  “Yes, your father will be dead, and you will be left with a nice inheritance and the name of a great legacy, though a dead one. As long as you don’t have any greater ambitions than that, I suppose you are correct. Or perhaps this young man has other prospects besides skill in the bedroom?”

  Danielle scowled, but he could see she was unnerved by the wideness of her eyes. Whoever this other boy was, he didn’t have much to offer her. Certainly not the protection Danielle craved.

  “And do not think you will have me,” David added as she glanced at him with a coy smile.

  “You still need me. My father is dying so you will lose his support for Prime Minister. I’ve seen the others who are part of MOTHER. They all want to lead Europe. You will need the support of parliament to win that position and that, I believe, is why you placed me as a senator.”

  David laughed though he kept it kind for her sake. She blushed. “Truly, my dear, you and my son as members of parliament are two of my, and your father’s, greatest disappointments. Derrick hasn’t attended in years, and, though you attend every session, I would hardly say you are active. Have you ever even read any of the issues you vote on?”

  “It hardly seems to matter when the only things that are acted upon are the ones MOTHER chooses,” Danielle snapped. “I could become very interested in the move to have new elections.”

  “Please do, as it would be interesting to see if you’d be elected. Then you could truly fade the le Marc name into obscurity. However, I’m rather certain I would manage to at least retain some power. Not to mention, as you pointed out, if the remainder of MOTHER does not wish for elections the proposal will never come to pass. I don’t need you, dear. I’ve hardly wasted the years waiting for you or my son to save me.”

  Danielle looked away, her expression the way he remembered her: sad and a little lost. She touched a fingertip below her lashes before asking, “So what do you recommend I do?”

  “I might not need you to rescue me, but perhaps you can save my son. You might be able to help each other.”

  “As you and my father set us up to do all those years ago?”

  “And more possibly. Who knows what the two of you could accomplish if you worked together. Young, rich, beautiful and in charge of a new Europe? I certainly pegged better hopes on both of you than tawdry affairs or locking oneself up in a dingy manner in northern England.”

  Danielle stared at David. He could feel her mind working behind her grey eyes. Danielle rebelled if you forced anything on her. But if it was her idea, or she thought it was at least, then she’d drive through a war to save someone. David had seen it firsthand.

  “I’ll think about it,” Danielle said, haughtily.

  David hid a smile as he stood. He held out a hand as if it were a business meeting though he did lean over and give her a kiss on her cheek. He would miss her. She did so love to do things she thought would piss her father off.

  As if reading his mind, Danielle’s eyes glinted as she hesitated before stepping away. She was teasing and coy; David envied his son the bride being sent to his door. Not that Derrick would realize the gift. But damn it, Danielle was a better choice than Arinna Prescot.

  After she left, the smell of her perfume lingered. That along with the light in Danielle’s eyes and the revealing dress, oh, and that kiss, made sitting placidly at his desk impossible. So he did the one thing he knew would chill his heat. He called Danielle’s father, Renault le Marc.

  “She’s left?” Renault asked instead of offering a greeting when he picked up the phone.

  “Just. Don’t be surprised if she wants to head to England for the remainder of the summer,” David told him.

  Renault took a full breath without coughing. Danielle hadn’t lied about her father’s health improving. “Good. I owe you a debt for that. At least that plan is falling into place. Now, what are we going to do about Miralda and her games?”

  “If you are referring to Miralda’s desire to remove Arinna from the Guard, I have no issue with that,” David answered. He’d expected the conversation to distract him, not to send ice water through his veins.

  Renault’s silence was stormy. “Up until this moment, you’d seemed to support her on the council.”

  “Not always. You know that. I never liked the direction she took the war.”

  “You mean the war she won?” Renault asked, amusement crackling over the syllables. “Now why have you changed your mind? Did you remember she once worked for you and has so thoroughly upstaged you?”

  “I think she is stalling on what she has seen outside of Europe and refusing to allow us access to satellites. The implication of a new form of HALO could be a ruse to keep us from looking beyond our borders, seeking outside assistance—”

  “You sound more delusional than Miralda,” Renault replied. There was a wheeze to his breath again. “Ms. Prescot controls the armed forces, David. Are you certain you want to join with Miralda Gerschtein to remove the Lady Grey?”

  For the first time in days, David felt the tightness of anxiety fade. He was sure. “Honestly, I don’t think she has much of an armed force left to defend herself with.”

  Renault gave him no answer. An angry silence was followed by a terse reply. “I should prepare for Danielle’s arrival.”

  David laughed as Renault hung up on him. The man’s vision was limited. When there had been fighting in Europe, or just on the edge of her borders, then Arinna had been useful. Most useful after her husband’s death when she’d no longer protected his missions and safety more than she’d protected Europe.

  But now, the fighting was distant and created not by the FLF seeking to penetrate Europe, but, if what Arinna said was true, in an effort to simply kill or capture Guard soldiers. The FLF were turning to protect wherever it was they called home. Which meant the FLF was nervous. A deal for peace could be reached if he could find them.

  David didn’t need Miralda’s help. Her plans could remove Arinna, even if they seemed to be unfurling slower than the war. Still the rumors had picked up. He’d heard gossip and discrediting here in Prague. What David needed to work on was controlling what would be the step after that. Until then, Arinna could continue a slow fight with whatever soldiers remained to her. He was just damn well sure one of them would not be his son.

  It took David a few days to wheedle his way back into Guard security, reminding everyone that he was officially the Secretary of Defense. Having access to information on the armed
forces was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. But the Guard had been loyal to Arinna and Captain Vries long enough that their silent wall was difficult to crack. With time, he’d find a way to access the satellites and reports. David was certain of it.

  Pacing his study, he paused at his desk, seeing the forgotten letter lying on the corner. The flourished script caught his attention. He picked it up, looking this time at the name and careful handwriting. A faint whiff of perfume like English roses graced the fine paper. Dame Corianne Heylor, the name meant nothing to him. The title Dame had made him consider her old, a nosy, aged woman gossiping about the improprieties of his son.

  But the handwriting was too sure and smooth, like young skin without blemish. He read the letter again, noting the subtle hints of admiration for Derrick. This Corianne might just be younger than he’d assumed.

  David did have connections around the countryside where Derrick lived. He’d made contacts as soon as his son left the base in France to retreat to the estate, refusing to answer David’s calls and letters. David made a few social calls, hinting he might be visiting, asking after acquaintances, and commenting on his son’s friends Byran and this Corianne. It didn’t take long to learn a bit of her story, and the rumors of her ambitions.

  At the end of the day, David sat down at his desk and pulled out a piece of stationery. Carefully, he began a letter in reply.

  Chapter 26

  THE EARL OF KESMERE

  INVITATION TO RHIOL

  The sword reverberated in his hand, loosening Derrick’s grip. Arinna saw the weakness and struck again. He parried it poorly, barely knocking aside the worst of the force. Arinna drove him back with a quick volley, ground that Derrick gave unwillingly. It had been a long time since anyone had tested his every move. Fighting Arinna was more of a challenge than he had imagined. He loved it. And he was learning too.

  With a quick snap, he knocked her legs out from under her. She fell hard on the mat but sent a well-placed kick that Derrick didn’t expect. He stumbled backwards, tripping to land next to her with a laugh.

  Arinna lay on her back a moment, catching her breath. Finally, she glanced over at Derrick. “I’m sorry for the kick. That was undeserved.”

  Derrick grinned. “No harm, and it is still my point, in either case, which makes it twice I beat you today.”

  “Yes, and I’ve beaten you three times,” she rejoined but chuckled at his joy. “You are getting a little less traditional in your fighting.”

  “I’ve learned from your unconventional moves,” he said, rolling to his feet. And he had. In the week and a half they’d sparred together though today made only the fourth practice session, he’d learned that Arinna wasn’t worried about form. She meant to win, and most of the time her tactics were a surprise.

  He held out a hand to her though he knew she didn’t need his help to spring back to hers. There was only a slight hesitation before she accepted his offer and allowed herself to be leveraged upwards. He walked away, picking up his dropped sword to prove he meant nothing but friendship by it.

  Arinna swung the match out of her arms while stretching her back. She hadn’t lost her sword, keeping hold of it as she fell, Derrick noted ruefully. It had been too long since he’d fought where the consequence of failure would be death.

  “To fight like that, you see more battles than Captain Vries let on,” Derrick said. Arinna flicked him an amused glance but said nothing. Always challenges with her. “I can’t imagine he is that worried you don’t get enough practice over the summer.”

  “I think he wishes I got less,” Arinna said, running her hand through her short curls. Before the statement could fully hit, she added, “Perhaps Jared asked you here to get you back in shape, and it has nothing to do with me?”

  “Hah, how lovely. My father would have him court-martialed if he knew. At least you know I have as much incentive as you to keep this private, my lady.” Derrick nodded toward the space at the far end of the room that housed more computers and screens than he’d seen since the base in France during the war.

  “Arinna,” she said. “I told you there is no formality here. If you don’t listen, I will make you fight in a suit!”

  Derrick laughed. “Only if you fight in a dress.”

  Her grin was wicked. “I’ve done it before. Shall we go again?”

  Reluctantly, Derrick shook his head. “I still have appearances to maintain, alas. I have company this evening. Actually, if I remember correctly, I think I invited you?”

  “That’s tonight?” Arinna asked, her surprised expression genuine enough to make Derrick pause. Which is when he saw her half smile.

  “I’ll remember not to invite you again, in that case,” he said ruefully.

  She joined him as he walked to the stairs through the small wine cellar, Derrick careful to keep his curious gaze away from the electronics. Snooping wasn’t why he was in Rhiol, and he certainly didn’t want to give the wrong impression.

  “I’ll be there. I won’t even be late. And I’ll wear a dress,” she said brightly as they emerged into the kitchen. “Do you want anything before you go? Water? We shouldn’t have practiced this long today. It really did slip my mind your party is tonight.”

  He paused amid the spacious, and what looked to be completely unused, stone countertops of the kitchen. Reality blurred. Arinna, dressed in a white T-shirt and yoga pants, sweaty with hair thoroughly disheveled, appeared unlike a military commander or a fine lady acquainted with society. The setting felt unconnected to the aftermath of a war that altered lifestyle so much that he lit oil lamps as if born to a time before electricity. If life had been different, and he’d stood this close to her ...

  Derrick turned away, surprised at his own thoughts and wishing to hide any indication of them that might have flickered across his face. “You should host a party yourself,” he said putting some distance between them.

  “Here? In Rhiol?”

  “Why not? It would be expected, and the lack of one will be noted eventually. The ground floor is benign enough to pass inspection. I, Byran and I,” Derrick quickly corrected, “could help pull it off. It is a shame you don’t have a better garden though an early fall event could work well with the trees,” he added, finding his gaze on her again. She looked at him with amusement.

  “I’ll consider it. Are you sure you’ll have nothing?”

  He remembered her offer for water. “A glass,” he agreed, hoping it would clear his mind though he knew the best thing would be to leave. But he didn’t want to. Byran would kill him if he knew that.

  She poured two, walking across the room to hand him his. She stood at his elbow, leaning with her hip against the countertop as she gazed out the window. Birds chirped sedately from the deep shade of trees, the sound filtering in from the open casements.

  “I haven’t seen Rhiol in the fall. It will probably be pretty in an austere sense.”

  “Put out some pumpkins, paper lanterns, and mums and it would look quite charming. Especially at night.”

  Arinna laughed, a real laugh that made her eyes dance. “Or like the setting for a haunted house. Which could be a different option?”

  “I can’t remember the last time there was a good masked Halloween ball. You know you will have to host one now?”

  “I’m sure you’ll manage to talk me into it,” she said, shaking her head though her eyes still sparked with gaiety. “Unless you are going to dress like a vagabond for your party tonight, you had better go.”

  “If you are ordering me, my lady, I shall depart,” Derrick said with a bow.

  “You are not one of my soldiers,” she said, pausing as the humor fell from her expression.

  “Arinna?” Derrick asked; he took her arm without thinking. To his surprise, she blushed.

  “I ... it’s nothing. Silly. I need to speak to Jared before leaving for Kesmere. I promise I won’t be late,” she said though the teasing sounded forced compared to the moment before. “You can see yourself out
?”

  A handful of phrases fought in his mind: comfort, defense, and annoyed acceptance at the dismissal. “I will re-enlist if that is what it takes for you to trust me. Jared might have called me Sergeant, but he wouldn’t actually take my oath. I’ll swear it to you, now.”

  He held Arinna’s gaze for a long heartbeat. “I believe you would,” she answered before the seriousness in her expression fell away. “But you forget, I’m not technically part of the Guard either so making an oath to me would only serve to piss off Jared ... and your father. I have enough problems with him; I don’t need to add that one.”

  Arinna took his hand, squeezing his fingers before letting go. “It isn’t lack of trust that I don’t tell you what this is about. The good Captain is cleverer with his jokes than I realized. It’s been awhile since he did something I didn’t see coming.”

  Derrick left it at that though he was no less curious. The ride home through the early August warmth added more sweat to his dampened clothes, making him grateful of the shortcut through the woods between Rhiol and Kesmere. He would have no explanation of his improper attire if caught on the main road. Derrick had a secret life. He was accepted, if not a part of, the Guard once again. His spirits soared until he remembered the other thing and Byran. He spent the rest of the short ride fussing about hurting his friend.

  “Finally remembered you are hosting a party tonight?” Byran asked Derrick when he arrived at Kesmere. “I thought I’d have to come collect you from Rhiol or make excuses when the first guests arrived.”

  Isabella shot her husband a dark look. “Ignore him,” she said to Derrick.

  The tension of Byran and Isabella’s marriage coupled with Byran’s attitude after the gratitude Derrick had felt toward both of them earlier rankled. “Not now, Byran,” Derrick snapped, walking past his friend to head upstairs.

  An hour later, having showered, dressed, and checked the arrangements, Derrick felt more himself and grateful once again. Isabella’s careful eye had added detail to the decorations and menu that Derrick would have overlooked. Byran too, used to entertaining at his estate of Merimarche in Spain, had acted the lord of the manor in Derrick’s absence. Derrick really shouldn’t have gone to Rhiol today, but he couldn’t stay away.

 

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