“Thank you,” she said again.
Emil nodded and exited, closing the door softly behind him. Left alone now, Daniela began to wander about the room. She trailed careful fingers over the fine bedding and smooth furniture. She’d never quite seen a room like this before, at least not in the daylight. To think that there were people who actually lived every day of their lives like this was astounding. The closest thing she’d known to luxury was buying herself a set of gold earrings for her last birthday.
Her attention returned to the portrait on the wall. The woman was poised gracefully in an elegant evening gown, a pearl necklace complimenting her slender neck and shoulders. Her hair was piled on top of her head with a few stray curls spilling over to frame her lovely face.
Daniela looked at herself in the gilded mirror over the dresser. She pulled her hair away from her face and turned her head more to the right. For a fleeting moment, she entertained the thought of being so elegant and beautiful. The thought was short-lived. Who was she kidding? She could barely walk in heels. She didn’t care about that stuff, anyway. She had more important things to think about.
Moving toward the bed, she sat carefully on the edge. She was exhausted. Her body ached, her head throbbed and she was starving. But how could she eat or sleep when her sister was missing? She had no idea if Elaina was dead or alive or suffering beneath the will of a creature like the one Nicholas had slain. Of course, denying herself food and rest wasn’t helping the situation. She needed her strength if she intended to find Elaina and save her from whatever evil was holding her.
She blamed herself completely. It wasn’t Nicholas’s fault for taking the risks he had. It wasn’t Mai’s fault for not effectively covering their tracks. It was her fault. She was responsible for Elaina, and she never should’ve gotten herself entangled in such a situation. She should’ve forgotten all the people in the world who needed help and focused on the one person who needed her the most. But she’d been selfish, risking her life to fill the void that their mother had left in her heart. It was a deficit that, no matter how many mouths she fed or how many orphans she clothed, remained deep and upsetting.
A painful sob climbed its way up her throat and tears began to sting her eyes. Slowly, she fell to one side and brought her legs up onto the bed. And there, in the lonely silence amidst the wailing of her conscience, she succumbed to the twisting ache that tormented her heart.
* * *
Nicholas shot his brother an annoyed glance then stalked past him and toward the large bathroom. Undeterred, Simion pursued him. He paused in the doorway and leaned against the doorjamb.
“Come now, brother. I think I know you better than you know yourself,” Simion said. “Now tell me, who is she?”
Nicholas opened a cabinet and fished through it. “I told you before, we are in a relationship.”
“I would believe that, but for the fact that she is hardly your type.”
He found a few first aid items. “And what is my type?”
Simion smiled. “Let’s just say a bit more refined.”
Nicholas hadn’t really expected his brother to believe him, but he’d hoped. He and Simion shared many things and could often read the other without difficulty. But of Lord Drakon’s three sons, Simion, despite his very sedate manner, was the most ruthless. Nicholas didn’t need the frustration of contending with his brother’s anger. However, it seemed he would have no choice. Simion could be quite relentless, and the only way to satisfy him was to tell him what he wanted to know.
Nicholas unzipped his jacket and stripped it off. “Very well, I will tell you, but you must give your word not to speak of this to anyone.”
“Fine.” Simion looked skeptical, but was momentarily distracted by the bloodied dressing around Nicholas’s abdomen. “I see you have had an interesting night,” he commented.
“Tiraghol hasn’t changed since we were there last.” He began unwrapping the dressing.
Simion pushed away from the door jamb. “Tiraghol? Why were you there?” he asked with concern.
“Raba witches were hired to steal the second rune. I went there to learn by whom.”
His brother looked confused. “How did you know the witches were hired to steal it? When we met last you said that you’d found the tomb destroyed and the rune missing, with no trace of the thief.”
With reluctance, Nicholas faced him. “The witches attacked the thief who stole the first rune, and she managed to escape with the second.”
It took only a few seconds before realization seeped into Simion’s eyes and his brows drew together in a frown. “Brother, please tell me that the woman you brought into this house is not the thief who stole the runes and destroyed our grandfather’s tomb.”
“She is.”
Simion’s scowl deepened. “And where is the Rune of Cythe?”
Nicholas began cleaning the dried blood from his abdomen. “It remains within her possession.”
“And what, dare I ask, is the reason for that?”
“Her sister has been captured,” Nicholas told him. “A man calling himself Sabbath will not release the girl until Daniela delivers the rune to him. I have reason to believe that Sabbath is one of the elders of our clan. He had to have been present the night our father revealed the location of the second rune.”
His brother looked thoughtful. “How does this explain why you still haven’t retrieved the Rune of Cythe from the thief?”
“She has hidden it and is not willing to release it until her sister has been found.”
“She is not willing?” Again Simion barked in disbelief. “Brother, there are ways to make your adversary compliant!” With that he spun out of the room and began stalking up the hallway.
Nicholas moved quickly and slammed the door that led into the main dining room shut, blocking his brother’s exit. He knew exactly where Simion was headed, and there was no way he was going to allow anyone to subject Daniela to any more abuse. Yes, she was the thief who’d stolen the runes and destroyed the tomb of his grandfather, but she’d been through enough. Her sister was lost and she’d nearly been killed the night before.
“You will leave her be,” he told his brother in a very low, determined voice. “I will do this my way.”
“Your way?” Simion scoffed. “You allow an enemy to keep a sacred item and you invite her into our home. How do you know that she is not still under the employ of this man who calls himself Sabbath?”
It was a good question, Nicholas decided. Yet, for reasons that eluded him, he believed Daniela had been genuine in her claim that she’d known nothing of the runes and who was after them. She’d simply taken on a job that had gone terribly wrong. And she was suffering for it.
“Allow me to worry about that. For now I need you to keep this between us. Under no circumstances is Father to learn who she really is.”
Simion watched him curiously. “Why do you defend her so? Or should I even ask?”
He looked away. In truth, he had not the faintest idea why he was making such an effort to protect Daniela. It would be a simple task for his brother to force her to hand over the rune. Of this, he had no doubt. And once the stone was safely within their possession, they’d be free to seek the answers behind its missing twin. Yet, something compelled him to help Daniela. Without his assistance, her sister would more than likely be killed, and so would she.
He understood that life had been hard for her. Of course, that did nothing to justify her criminal behavior, but perhaps she deserved a reprieve.
“It is not what you think,” Nicholas told his brother.
Simion folded his arms across his chest. “Then what is it?”
He sighed. “Look, I need you to trust me.” He was quite ready to be done with this interrogation. “There is a matter that requires our more immediate attention.” When Simion remained
silent, he continued. “Last night while I was in Tiraghol, I was attacked by a shape-shifter. It was then that I discovered that I have retained the ability to morph into gargoyle form.”
Surprise slowly slid over Simion’s face and his arms fell away from his chest. “How is that possible? The curse was broken.”
“There seems to be more than the curse at work here. If you have noticed, it is daylight and I haven’t turned to stone. I am also able to control my transformation.”
Nicholas brought his right hand up and flexed it. Immediately, his nails sharpened and thick veins snaked up his arm. He gritted his teeth against the arthritic ache that assailed his joints. He relaxed it and his hand returned to normal.
Simion looked amazed. “And this was all spontaneous?”
He shook his head. “I do not think so. I believe that the transformation has been brewing for months, but only manifested last night. It took the stress of combat to produce it.”
Simion leaned his back to the wall and exhaled. “So there is a chance that I too am afflicted, for I have also experienced the aches that you have.”
He nodded. “The aches that we’ve experienced were not random, but incited by something.”
“There is only one thing that can produce these outcomes,” Simion said. “Sorcery.”
His brother was right. Some spell had to have been cast in order for the effects of the curse to be reinitiated and altered. In this modern world, there were few who possessed the power to conjure such magic. The Raba witches had never been so skilled. But perhaps a gathering of them, coupled with the effects of the inferior spell that he and his brother had cast to ward off the ending of the curse, had made it possible. Whatever the cause, they had to discover it quickly, for there was still the chance that the curse would develop into its original state. And with the impending awakening of his uncle Gabriel, they couldn’t afford the obstacle of being stone by day.
Chapter 12
The gentle rapping at the door woke Daniela from her sleep. Her eyes flew open and for a moment she thought she was still immersed in a dream. She was lying on a beautiful bed in a very lovely room. The drapes remained open, permitting the vibrant colors of the sunset in. The rapping continued and she sat up as her memory flooded back to her. She was in the home of Nicholas’s family and her world had been turned upside down.
She slid from the bed and hurried to the door. She opened it and found herself face-to-face with the woman from the painting. Her hair was now a gleaming silver that had been pinned neatly into a bun, but her face looked the same.
The woman smiled at her. It was warm and genuine. “Hello, you must be Daniela.”
Daniela nodded. “I am. How do you do?” she asked, feeling awkward.
She knew she looked even more of a mess after her restless sleep. The woman, who was dressed in a simple gray knee-length dress, looked radiant.
“I am well. And how are you, dear?”
She forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
“Wonderful. I’m Nicholas’s mother. You may call me Amelia. He certainly did not tell me how lovely you were.”
Daniela blushed. “Um… Thank you.”
She’d never been referred to as lovely before. In fact, she didn’t think she was that good-looking, perhaps just average. She’d always envied the very fair and petite women she knew. Her dark looks weren’t very appealing in her opinion.
Again Amelia smiled. “Dinner will be served in thirty minutes. Have you anything appropriate to wear?”
Daniela looked down at herself. “Um… These are my only clothes. I didn’t think we would be staying here this long,” she admitted.
Not that she had anything nice to wear, anyway. The few dresses she owned were cotton sundresses she reserved for Fun Days at the orphanage.
“I can remedy that. Come with me.”
Daniela allowed herself to be led down the hallway to another room. It was obviously the master suite of the mansion. It was huge and sported a high domed ceiling and tall windows. A massive bed draped in a bronze canopy was the centerpiece.
Amelia led her to a large walk-in closet then disappeared inside. When she returned, she held three long evening gowns, which she placed on the bed. She took the first, a blue satin gown with a scooped neckline, and held it up against Daniela’s frame.
“So tell me, how did you and Nicholas meet?” She turned Daniela to face a full-length mirror.
Daniela’s heart began to race. She wasn’t sure if Nicholas’s mother was asking out of genuine interest, or if she suspected something was amiss and was trying to gain answers. She decided she’d better choose her story carefully, especially considering she had no idea what Nicholas had told his family already. She also wondered if this graceful and beautiful woman could possibly change into a gargoyle, as well. She decided to stick as closely to the truth as possible.
“I visited the gallery in New York,” she told her. “Nicholas was kind enough to…um…assist me.” She’d never been a good liar. She only hoped it wasn’t obvious.
“Ah, so you’ve seen the gallery,” Amelia said as she pulled the blue dress away and replaced it with a weightless cream number. “He and his brother have worked hard to establish themselves in your country. I am very proud of them.”
Suppressing the guilt that was crawling over her, Daniela nodded. “Yes, it’s a very impressive business.”
Amelia removed the cream dress and brought the last one up. It was a slinky black beaded gown with a plunging back and a risqué split up one side.
“Ah, this is definitely the one. What do you think?”
“It’s gorgeous,” Daniela replied honestly.
The other woman slipped it off the hanger and handed it to her. “If you get changed now I can help you with your hair.”
Reluctantly, Daniela accepted the dress. “Are you sure?” It was daunting just imagining the price tag. She’d be devastated if she ruined the dress.
Amelia nodded with an encouraging smile. “Of course.” She took her arm and led her to an elaborate bronze and gold room divider. “You may change behind there.”
“Thank you,” Daniela said as she slipped behind the screen. She began peeling her clothes off and was grateful to note that the gown would adequately conceal the dressing on her thigh. On the other side of the screen she could hear Amelia moving toward the dresser and rummaging through what sounded like a box of jewelry.
“It is not often that I get to meet any of Nicholas’s love interests,” she commented. “You must be very special to my son.”
Daniela’s fingers paused on the zipper of her cargo pants. “We’ve been through quite a bit together.”
“Well, whatever the reason, I think it is exactly what Nicholas needs. He is the wildest of my sons, and a bit of stability should do him good.”
Daniela resumed changing her clothes. She didn’t like the way the conversation was heading. She almost expected to hear the word marriage in the next few sentences. It was no surprise that Nicholas was still single. She couldn’t imagine the woman who would be willing to put up with him. Not even the prospect of his wealth enticed her.
Slipping the dress over her head, she let it slide over her body. She stepped from behind the screen and looked to Amelia to gauge her opinion. Amelia turned and gasped with delight.
“Very exquisite,” she remarked as she pulled Daniela to face the mirror again. “I am sure Nicholas will be very pleased.”
Daniela gawked at her reflection. The dress was perfect. It clung to her body as if made for her and showed off her attributes quite nicely.
“Wow,” she said, a soft smile on her lips. She’d never worn anything so nice before.
“Hold your hair up, dear,” Amelia instructed.
Daniela complied and watched as Amelia placed a silver neckla
ce about her neck. Weighed by what appeared to be a small teardrop pearl, it dangled just above her cleavage.
Amelia’s eyes flashed with approval in the mirror. “And this is for you. It’s always been one of my favorite pieces.”
Slowly, Daniela’s hand moved to caress the delicate bit of jewelry. “Oh, I couldn’t,” she protested softly.
It was bad enough that she and Nicholas were deceiving his family. She didn’t feel right about taking jewelry from his mother. It was odd—had she been hired to steal the item it wouldn’t have been a problem. There was just something about Amelia that made her warm inside. She seemed very sweet and motherly, very nurturing.
Amelia turned Daniela to face her. “Think of it as a gift. It has been a long wait for the woman who can tame my son, and you seem to be off to a wonderful start.”
She found herself being ushered over to a vanity and into a chair.
“And now, let us do something with your hair.” Amelia pulled a silver brush and comb out of the drawer. “Would you prefer your hair up or down and framing your face?”
“Up, I think,” Daniela responded. She wondered if it was obvious that she wasn’t accustomed to discussing hairstyles.
Amelia began running the comb through Daniela’s hair. A sharp pain shot through the back of her scalp and she winced. Immediately, Amelia stopped combing.
“What is it?”
Daniela brought a hand to the back of her head and touched the sore spot. It was the place she’d been struck by the shape-shifter in Tiraghol. When she removed her hand, her fingertips were smeared with a small amount of blood.
“You’re hurt!” Amelia gently parted Daniela’s hair to examine the injury.
“It’s nothing.” Daniela tried to appear aloof. “I fell while I was hiking.”
She couldn’t tell if Amelia believed her or not, but the other woman fixed her with a scrutinizing stare in the mirror.
“Did you seek medical attention?”
“No,” Daniela replied. “I didn’t think it was necessary. It’s not bothering me.”
The Enemy's Kiss Page 12
