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Mail-Order Bride [Taos Wolven Mates] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

Page 13

by Tianna Xander


  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Dana stood outside her uncle’s home and looked up at the structure. She must face him and let him know she was beyond his reach once and for all. He’d sent more than a dozen gunslingers after her in the last year, and her mates agreed that it must stop. Every time the men showed up in Serenity Falls, they looked for a fight. Frankly, Dana was tired of the violence. She didn’t want to raise her children with the fear that one of her uncle’s men would decide to use one of them as leverage to bring her back here to John.

  Flanked by her two men, she put her foot on the first step and paused. As much as she wanted this confrontation, she feared it. She knew her men were difficult to kill, but she also knew Uncle John was a ruthless killer. He’d proven that time and again when his gunslingers ended up dead after returning to tell him that his niece was out of his reach. Several times over the last months, her men had spared the lives of the men sent to retrieve her with the understanding that they would tell her uncle to leave her alone. Time after time, he sent men out to retrieve her. Even when her men told them she was taken, she was no longer innocent, and she was theirs, they wouldn’t give up. She often wondered what kind of hold Uncle John held over the men he sent. Did he threaten their families to make them so eager to bring her home? Whatever Uncle used as motivation worked. The men continued to come, now that they knew where she was. Even the threat of being scalped by what they called savages was no deterrent. Almost monthly, the men showed up at their property and made an attempt to steal her away.

  Frankly, Dana was tired of her men coming to her rescue. One of these days, their luck would run out and one of them would get hurt. She didn’t want that. She never wanted that. She also didn’t want them killing for her. The deaths of the gunslingers sent to bring her home weighed heavily on her conscience, though it was really her uncle to blame. It begged to wonder what kind of hold her father’s stepbrother had over the hired guns that they would continue to risk their lives to take her home.

  The last bounty hunter refused to leave. He died on her front porch because her father’s stepbrother had told the man to bring her back or die. Unfortunately, the man had a death sentence either way. Rubbing her slightly rounded belly, Dana forced herself up the stairs to the porch. She stood staring at the front door of the house her father built, the home she’d grown up in, and knew it must end here. Now. There was little time before the baby would grow to the point where it was obvious she was with child. It was now or never.

  She raised her hand to knock on the door just as someone slung it open from inside. “There you are!” Uncle John reached out, grabbed her arm, and dragged her inside the house. He pushed the door to close it, but Lorcan was there, his long fingers curling around the wood to push it open again.

  Though her heart pounded with fear, just the sight of her two mates gave Dana courage, and she yanked her arm out of John Olsen’s grasp. Dana stared at the man in front of her and refused to think of him as her uncle ever again. She’d called him that as a family title out of respect. How could one respect a man who could do what this man did to people?

  “I would like you to meet my husbands.” Dana deliberately stressed the last word. She wanted him to know that she was married to both of these men and that there would likely never be a time when she was alone. “Lorcan, Tarin, this is my father’s stepbrother, John.” She made the introductions refusing to call this man uncle ever again.

  “That’s Uncle John to you,” John sneered. “Your father was my brother.”

  “My father was your stepbrother. It makes you nothing more to me than the man my father grew up with.” She used her best imitation of Amelie’s haughty expression. “You are not my uncle. You were never my uncle. If you even loved my father the slightest bit, you would never have planned to sell me to a foreign brothel.”

  “Brothel?” He actually looked surprised. “I wasn’t selling you to a brothel.” He shrugged. “I admit to thinking about it until a sheikh offered to pay me three-thousand for you.” He made a face. “He won’t marry you now as he’d planned, but he still wants you.” He grinned. “He’ll feel better once he’s killed these two and has whipped you good for running.”

  Tarin stepped forward, his eyes glowing with the strange iridescence of his wolf. “He will never touch Dana.” He growled. “And you would do well to never lay another finger on her. She belongs to us now.”

  Both Tarin and Lorcan pulled their shirts off over their heads. Their upper bodies morphed into their mid form, large muzzles protruding from their human faces. Dana stepped back. Not from fear, but surprise. She’d never seen this form before. It was just as monstrous as the first mid form she’d seen, but much more intimidating.

  You need never fear us, mate. Lorcan sounded sad. It was as though she disappointed him.

  Dana smiled at him. I’m not frightened, my mates. I was just surprised. You have never shown me this form before.

  She turned her attention to John who had stumbled back against the wall. He pulled a shotgun from behind a hall table and leveled it at Tarin’s chest.

  “No!” Dana screamed and, without thought, moved to put herself between him and the blast.

  Tarin shoved her away. The shot hit him square in the chest. Blood and gore flew everywhere. Dana could do nothing but stare in horror at the hole in Tarin’s middle. It was a death shot. Her uncle deliberately shot him in the middle so he would suffer.

  John frantically pulled two more shells from his pocket and tried to reload.

  “Stop him before he shoots you, too,” she yelled at Lorcan who just stood in front of her, his body blocking hers from harm.

  “Tarin has this under control.”

  Dana watched with her knuckles jammed into her mouth. Tarin, who should have been writhing on the floor in agony, had he been human, still stood tall. He lunged forward, his movements a blur as he grabbed the shotgun from John and tossed it across the room.

  John screamed as he watched Tarin’s wounds heal in front of his eyes. “What—what are you?” The stench of urine filled the air as he wet his pants, and Tarin chuckled.

  “We were content to leave you well enough alone, John Olsen. Your greed is what caused this meeting.”

  Sweat ran down John’s face. He clutched his chest and fell to his knees. His breathing became labored. He wheezed every time he drew breath until he fell to the floor in silence.

  “Your uncle John is dead,” Tarin said as he knelt on the floor, his fingers pressed against John’s neck.

  Standing, he changed back to his human form and put his shirt back on, Lorcan following suit. Turning, they both pulled her into their arms. “We didn’t mean for this to happen, baby.”

  Trembling, Dana nodded. “I know.” She closed her eyes and soaked up their warmth for a minute. “But he was sick inside. Perhaps he’s in a better place now.”

  “We must let the others know we’re all right,” Lorcan said as he released her and moved to the door to open it.

  The others rushed in, fierce expressions on their faces. It was obvious they were ready for a battle.

  “The fight is over, gentlemen. Dana’s uncle has seen fit to die of natural causes, leaving his niece everything he owns.”

  Dana’s mouth dropped open at Tarin’s announcement. He was right. This house was finally hers as it should have been. Her father’s money, if there was anything left, was also hers.

  “I don’t want what was his.” She spun around in a circle. “I will take this house as it was my father’s and rightfully mine. I will take the monies my father left me, but I want nothing to do with his dirty money.”

  She looked over at Amelie and Fleur whom someone had just escorted in. The entire clan was here. No one could stand to be left behind when they knew what was at stake, and no one need be left on the ranch when the ship could easily drop them here in a few moments, negating the need for someone to watch the animals they had begun to acquire.

  “You two have enough funds fr
om your father, do you not?” She directed the question at Fleur, because she was certain Amelie would balk at answering such a forward question.

  “Yes, Madame Dana. My father left us with more money than we should know what to do with.” Fleur, who had just turned eighteen, scowled down at John and gave him a vicious kick. “Il a été de merde.” She paused. “He was…how do you say? The dung pile.”

  Tarin chuckled. “He was at that.”

  “You should never speak ill of the dead, Fleur,” Amelie said with a scowl.

  Fleur made a face. “I shall speak ill of those who deserve it, alive or dead.” She sniffed and moved away from the door. “Perhaps someone should go fetch a doctor or the mortician.”

  “We’ve sent a man for both,” Jarrod said as he moved up behind Amelie and looked into the room. “What now?” He cast his gaze around the room. “Has anyone bothered to look in his study? Perhaps there’s something in his desk that would tell us how to call off his henchmen, or better yet, where he keeps his money.”

  “Or,” Tarin said with a grin, “we could just wait for the last of them to show up and scare them off the way we did the others.”

  “While that would be entertaining, I don’t think it’s prudent to allow his men to continue to attempt to kidnap our mate and take her away from us, just so we can have the pleasure of watching them piss their pants.” Lorcan crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at Tarin, brow raised.

  Tarin canted his head with a smile. “You’re right, but you have to admit, it was fun to think about.”

  Dana rolled her eyes. “You men have a strange sense of humor.”

  She crossed the room and stopped at a set of double doors. “This was his study.” She reached for the knob and turned it. “He has a safe in here, hidden in a cabinet.” She snorted. “As if putting it in there would make it difficult to find.”

  Making her way around the hand-tooled leather furniture, she worked her way around to stand behind her father’s desk. Dana refused to think of this as belonging to her uncle. Reaching out, she brushed her fingers over the smooth, polished wood and fought back her tears. She never thought to see this house ever again, but now it belonged to her as her father had always meant it to.

  Lorcan walked up behind her, moved to the cabinet, and opened the door. “Here it is, but we don’t know the combination.”

  “That shouldn’t be an issue.” Tarin pulled out his radio. “Carella, would you please transport the contents of the safe next to Lorcan onto the desktop?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  A few seconds later, the contents of the safe shimmered into existence on top of the desk.

  Dana gasped. “My mother’s jewels! How did he get my mother’s jewels?” She looked at her mates. “That means that the jewels I took when I left here were copies.”

  “And most likely only good enough copies to fool you.” Tarin picked up the box that had obviously sat wide open in the safe. He closed the lid and handed them to Dana. “Here you go, love.”

  She took them and held the box to her chest. Inside the mass of paperwork and money were ledgers. The men picked them up and rifled through them.

  “It looks as though he did trust banks at least a bit.”

  “Yes,” Lorcan agreed. “It’s apparent that he trusted the bank more than he trusted the safe, or perhaps more than those who worked for him. It looks as though he never transferred the monies out of the account your father had, Dana. This one had only carried his name as your guardian.”

  “What?” Dana frowned and stepped forward. She set her mother’s jewelry on the desk and moved to look at the ledger. “The bank told me the funds weren’t there, that my uncle had made an unwise investment and I was destitute.” She bit her lip as she looked at the record of deposit and withdrawal.

  Thumbing though the record, she turned the pages back to just before her father passed. Her eyes widened. “Father left me everything. He said he did and this record shows that he had over two-hundred thousand dollars when he, when he…” Dana’s throat closed when she realized that she hadn’t gone into her marriage penniless. In fact, she was a rather wealthy woman.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tarin watched the emotions chase across Dana’s face. A lone tear streaked down her right cheek, and she looked up at him. His gut clenched at the thought that she could leave them now. She had her money, and her uncle was no longer a threat.

  He looked at the papers that covered the desk and wondered just how much of this Dana would keep. The money alone was enough to shatter their dreams or make them. “This frees you. You no longer have to worry that your uncle will send another thug to bring you home. You need never fear that he will decide to try to sell you again.”

  Gently, Dana closed the book that proved her freedom and smiled up at them. “It feels wonderful.” She took a deep breath and looked around the room. “The first thing I want to do is get John’s things out of here.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve always hated the smell of his horrible cigars.” Then she smiled again. “But I do like the smell of good pipe tobacco. This room always smelled of my father’s imported tobacco, and I loved it.”

  She placed the ledger up on her mother’s jewelry case and smiled up at them. “I would have none of this if not for you. I can’t possibly thank you two enough.”

  Her breath hitched as she inhaled. It was obvious she was about to cry, and the thought that she would dismiss them from her life nearly brought him to his knees. This was sounding a lot like a goodbye.

  She moved to stand between them and wrapped an arm around each of their waists. “And that is exactly why I intend to spend the rest of my life doing it.”

  Tarin released the breath that he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He heard Lorcan do the same. Apparently, they had both worried that she would leave them now that she had the means to do so.

  “Why do you two look so relieved?” Dana asked as she looked up at them. She stepped away, placed her hands on her hips and scowled. “You thought I would leave you, didn’t you?” She shook her head. “I don’t believe it. What kind of loose woman do you take me for?”

  Tarin grinned, palmed the back of her head and growled. “You’re our mate, woman, and don’t you forget that.”

  Dana gave him a saucy grin and backed away. “I may be your mate, but it will be a cold day in Hades before you take liberties with my person in front of an audience.” Her face turned a becoming shade of pink. “Listen to us.” She turned to face the cabinet that housed the safe. “What are we going to do? I’m sure that we’re going to have to prove that I’m John’s only next of kin.” She spun around, her eyes wide. “What if he has a will leaving my house to someone else?”

  “He can’t do that. If the bank account is still in your name with him as a qualifying depositor and the house is still in your name or your father’s name, which is more likely, everything is already yours.” Lorcan leaned against the desk as he studied more and more of the paperwork.

  “It can’t be that easy. Someone will want the money and the business.” She wrinkled her nose. “The first thing we’re going to do is shut down that horrible home he had Agatha running.”

  “It looks as though he kept the money from his businesses separate from your father’s account. All of the deposits made into that account are legitimate investments.” Tarin looked up from the papers he had been looking over. He handed the papers and the ledger back to her. “By the looks of it, you can rest easy if you keep this money.”

  “What will you do with the cash he’s stashed in this other account?” Lorcan handed her the paper, and she glanced at it, her eyes wide.

  “I had no idea that the pleasures of the flesh could be so lucrative.”

  “It is when you’re not only dealing in running a whore house. Darlin’, your uncle John also peddled women to slave traders.”

  “I thought slavery had been abolished everywhere.”

  Lorcan shook his head. “Not accord
ing to this paperwork. He’s sold many women into sexual servitude.”

  Tarin wanted to slug Lorcan for telling her that. “That’s enough, Lorcan. She doesn’t need to know more right now.” He fisted his hands at his sides. He practically itched to throttle his best friend in that moment.

  “She deserves to know the truth.”

  “Not all at once, she doesn’t.”

  “Stop it, you two.” Dana pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. “I do need to know, Tarin. I have to know. I also need to know if there’s a way we can get these women back. Purchase them, maybe.”

  Every male in the room grinned at that. “We won’t need to purchase them, sweetheart,” Tarin said. He looked around at all of the men whom he could tell were impatient to start looking for the women her uncle sold. “We’ll merely tell those imprisoning them that their health very much depends on their slaves’ release.”

  Dana stood, shaking her head for a moment before she changed the motion to a nod and smiled. “That’s a wonderful idea, and we can keep his blood money to give to the people we find…starting with the girls at Agatha’s. They’re going to need money and homes. I can’t think of a better way to make certain that they never feel the need to sell their bodies ever again.”

  Tarin felt a rush of pride at Dana’s words. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

  “No one is giving away any of that money. It belongs to the city.” A strange man pushed into the room and eyed the desk. “Where did you get all of that?” He indicated the contents of the safe.

  “That, my friend is none of your business,” Lorcan said with a growl.

  Dana thrust her chest out, her shoulders back and looked down her nose at the man. “It most certainly will not go to the city.”

  “Will so. That’s what happens to the estate of men who don’t got no will or next of kin. I don’t know who you are, lady, but I’m the head constable, and I’ll have ya all down to the jailhouse if ya try to take one thing from this house.” He leaned forward and spat a stream of tobacco juice into the spittoon next to the desk.

 

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