Cursed Kiss (Paranormal Romance)

by Taylor, Helen Scott

  After Pablo ended the call, he grinned. "Soon we'll be back with Luka."

  Waiting for the call she hoped would gain their release seemed to take forever. Clare was sipping water from a plastic cup when the phone rang. She jumped at the sound, spilling water down her T-shirt.

  The guard answered in Dutch, then switched to halting German. He stared at his desk and answered with a succession of short, sharp jas and neins.

  When he finished, he raised his eyes to her, his expression now wary and respectful. "We will take you to the station. You come, please." He gestured for them to follow him through the door.

  "We need some clothes and money," Pablo said.

  "Yes, yes." The guard handed across some euros and led them to a room down the corridor.

  Clare followed as the man led Pablo to a stock room where a number of new guards' uniforms were hung on a rack. Pablo flicked through them, found his size, and quickly changed. He donned a pale blue shirt, navy jacket and pants, and polished black boots. When he turned and held out his arms for her inspection, she had to admit he looked good in uniform.

  She grabbed a sleeveless navy fleece and the smallest size men's shorts and pulled them on. She probably looked a mess, but she didn't care.

  Clare bit her lip as she followed Pablo down the corridor to freedom. Would Luka be pleased to see her again? And how would she explain about leaving him behind?

  ***

  In the early hours of the following morning, the limousine that had collected them from the Tours railway station crunched around the circular drive outside the front of Château Montgatine.

  As the car engine died, a light blinked on between the massive pillars that framed the front door. Clare saw the door open and like a dark wraith, Luka stepped out into the dawn. Pablo leaped from the car without waiting for her and sprinted the few yards to the house. He threw his arms around Luka and hugged him.

  Clare looked away. Her anticipation of this reunion with Luka now seemed ridiculous. Her mood flat with anticlimax, she gathered up the remnants of the food they'd bought on the journey and climbed out, wary of the pain. Every time she was inactive for a while, the stiffness returned to her muscles.

  In the stillness of the early hours, the sound of Pablo and Luka's earnest reunion was impossible to miss. Feeling like an unwanted chaperone, she stared over the dark shadows of bushes and trees to the thin glow on the horizon that signaled the new day approaching. She tried to shake off her sense of isolation. She didn't belong here, and she had huge reservations about returning to Moray.

  Her grandmother had appeared to want her to start with, but she'd soon realized Monique did not care for her as she'd expected she would. Now she knew her only living relative was far worse than she had ever imagined. The success of her flagship product was built on lies and deceit and Clare wanted nothing more to do with it.

  God, she was tired. She shifted her position and felt as though someone pushed a knife into her neck. Squeezing her eyes closed, she fought off the wave of misery that swept through her. What was it all for? She'd spent years looking after her father and he'd resented her help. Her grandmother was a monster who didn't care about anyone but herself. It seemed ridiculous now that Clare had thought if she ran Moray successfully, her life would be complete. Without family and someone to love, none of it mattered.

  "Clare," Luka said softly. "Let me look at you."

  She swallowed hard and sniffed, then glanced at him, grateful for the shadows that hid her face. She'd been so busy feeling sorry for herself she hadn't heard him approach. His eyes flicked over her and settled on her neck. "You're hurt."

  She hadn't looked in a mirror yet, but the bruises had to be bad if he could see them in this light. "It's nothing." Why had she said that when they ached like mad? Was she trying to prove she was Superwoman? "Actually, I feel crappy."

  A slow smile spread across his face. "You do look worn out."

  "Very diplomatic. You don't look too hot yourself." His hair was in wild disarray, as though the only comb it had seen in the last two days was his fingers. In the light from the porch, she could see his skin was pale, and there were dark rings beneath his eyes.

  He shrugged. "I am tired. Without Pablo I lose energy quickly." She felt a spark of jealousy that he depended so much on Pablo, and she couldn't even touch him. At that moment, she wanted to feel his arms around her more than anything else in the world.

  Pablo came over, linked arms with Luka, then slipped his other arm under hers. Clare snapped her gaze to Luka and saw the moment of concern on his face as they both waited to see if being joined through Pablo would affect her. Nothing happened. She was fine. But what difference did it make. She still couldn't touch Luka.

  "I gather Monique is still alive," Luka said in a carefully modulated tone as they headed to the house.

  Clare ached for him. Although she didn't know what Monique had done to him, after her brush with Edward, she had an inkling of what it was like to be a victim. She'd have to tell him about Jaska Vlad as well. How would he take the news that his family wanted to kill him?

  "I need to sleep for at least twelve hours," she said to Luka. "Then I'll tell you what I've found out." That would give her time to work out how she should break all the news.

  ***

  Edward stood at the entrance to a cave in Taldom and watched Jaska Vlad light a lantern with a flint, then hand it to Monique.

  "A light for your man?" Jaska asked.

  Monique shook her head without looking at Edward. She was still angry with him for letting Clare escape with the Spaniard. Her displeasure didn't bother him like it used to. He smiled to himself. Monique didn't know he'd examined Clare's flesh. That made the memory even sweeter. He didn't intend to tell her what else he had planned for Clare.

  "Hold the light low. Be quiet. The red one is upset in the new place," Jaska said.

  Monique turned to Edward. "You have the box?" He showed her the small plastic container that held the syringe and ampoule of sedative. Monique glanced up at him, her eyes sharp. "Look after it."

  He followed them into the dark maw of the cave and closed his eyes, preferring to feel his way with his energy field. The tunnel opened out into a large cavern with a stream running into a pool at one side. It was mainly in shadow, lit only by two torches on the wall near the tunnel opening.

  In the farthest, darkest corner, something stirred. A deep, rumbling growl echoed around the cavern. Edward watched with interest as Jaska Vlad walked closer to the beast, one careful step at a time. When the arc of light from Jaska's lantern penetrated the gloom, the creature lumbered to its feet. It unfolded its leathery, veined wings and stretched them out like a monstrous umbrella.

  Monique held out a demanding hand. Edward placed the plastic box in her palm. She removed the syringe and pierced the ampoule with the needle. Straw-colored fluid spiraled into the clear tube. When she was finished, she held it out to him. "Move closer so you can pass the syringe to Jaska. Let's see if the sedative works."

  He glanced at the creature warily.

  "Go on. It won't be interested in you. It's a carnivore."

  He stopped halfway between Monique and the creature and watched as Jaska Vlad stroked the beast beneath its chin. Eyes closed, the creature tilted its head to one side and sat on its haunches like a dog. Jaska whispered affectionately to the animal in the guttural Taldomian language.

  Slowly, it opened its huge jaws to reveal a double row of razor-sharp teeth at the front and flat bone grinders at the back. Jaska continued stroking the creature's throat until two long, curved teeth slid out from its upper jaw. Holding a china pot beneath one tooth, he pressed it against the tip. A thick stream of brown goo ran out of the hollow tooth into the cup. He repeated the process on the second tooth.

  Edward estimated that each tooth had produced ten milliliters of poison. When diluted and mixed with the flower extract to produce the Red Death mother tincture, this new improved formulation would keep the productio
n line for Bodyglo and Faceglo working for six weeks at projected demand.

  Jaska Vlad carefully set aside the pot on a rocky ledge and glanced at Edward. Cautiously, he walked forward and placed the syringe flat in Jaska's palm in the way he'd seen them handle medical instruments on the television.

  Up this close, Edward could see the deep red tinge to the serpent's scales. They glowed dully in the light like small semicircles of wax. When the creature huffed a breath, the stench of rotten meat penetrated even Edward's poor sense of smell. He stepped a safe distance away and watched Jaska slide the needle beneath one of the smaller scales on the beast's chest.

  The creature's eyes snapped open, the many facets sparkling in the light like precious gems. Surging up on four feet, it head-butted Jaska in the chest and sent him sprawling to the ground. Its wings scraped against the wall as it fought its restraints in an effort to escape the needle hanging from its chest.

  "Help Jaska," Monique shouted. Edward watched the creature yank at the thick metal chains attached to the manacles on its legs. He calculated the strength of the metal, the strength of the rock anchor, and the probability of them breaking.

  Long hooked claws on the creature's front feet lashed towards Jaska. He scrabbled backward, but not quickly enough to avoid the claws slicing across his leg. He screamed like a wounded animal.

  Edward looked at the creature with admiration. "Clever girl," he whispered.

  Monique ran to Edward and yanked on his arm. "Help him, you fool. We need him alive to deal with the serpent. I don't want to have to milk its poison."

  As the sedative finally took effect, the creature backed into the darkest corner and hunched into a ball. Edward darted forward, grabbed the fallen man's arm, and pulled him out of harm's way. Jaska Vlad screamed the whole time Edward dragged him. When he dropped him next to Monique, the man gave a strangled moan.

  "Take care, or you'll kill him yourself," she growled. "Look at his leg."

  Blood soaked the man's trousers and his ankle and foot hung at a crazy angle.

  Monique hitched up the hem of her dress and bent over Jaska as he writhed at her feet. "Don't worry. I'll sew you back together." She turned to Edward. "Carry him. I'm going to check the serpent."

  He picked up the man and threw him over his shoulder. He'd gone floppy like Clare had when he held her throat. Monique approached the creature, which had curled into a large scaly ball. She examined it from a distance, then walked forward and poked it with the toe of her shoe. It didn't move.

  She grabbed the pot of poison Jaska had extracted from its fangs, marched back to Edward, and motioned him forward. "Let's get this idiot back to the castle and do something with his leg. I'm good at taking men apart. I'm sure I can do it in reverse."

  Edward followed the tap of her footsteps along the damp tunnel.

  "You'd better hope Jaska survives," Monique said. "Otherwise you'll have to inject the sedative when we want to move that thing."

  While Monique jabbered on, Edward watched the sway of her delicate shoulders and round hips beneath the burgundy silk of her dress. Monique lifted a hand and flipped back her hair. Her wrists were thin. Fragile.

  Edward pictured Red Death's double row of sharp, pointed teeth, a mouthful of razor blades. What would Monique look like if those jaws chewed on her body? Sliced and diced. He'd heard that phrase on an infomercial for a kitchen implement. That's what would happen. She'd be sliced and diced. That would shut her up. Then he'd be free. He could go back to…what. He couldn't remember. A woman's face shimmered in the shadows of his mind. A woman he'd known sometime, somewhere. A dark pain tried to overwhelm him until he pushed the memory away.

  Chapter Eleven

  When Clare woke later that afternoon, her muscles had stiffened and her neck felt as though it had been put through a wringer.

  She dressed for comfort in a burnt umber crushed silk dress with pretty beadwork on the bodice. She studied her reflection in the antique mirror in the bathroom. The dress color coordinated perfectly with her necklace of bruises. A few weeks ago, she'd have been horrified to be seen like this. Strange how a near-death experience rearranged one's priorities.

  The bruising was too extensive to cover with makeup, so she ignored it. She added a brush of highlight to her cheeks and a touch of color to her lips, then made her way down the wide stone staircase to join the men on the terrace overlooking the garden.

  As she approached, Pablo strode forward to greet her. He brushed his fingertips against her neck and clicked his tongue. "My poor Clare." Folding his arms around her, he held her gently. "How do you feel, mi amor?"

  Clare accepted the embrace awkwardly, aware that Luka was only a few feet away, but unwilling to brush off Pablo's concern and hurt his feelings. She was slightly worried that he'd called her his love a few times now. It would be very awkward if he'd fallen for her when she had feelings for Luka.

  Luka sat staring out over the garden. Why hadn't he greeted her? By now, he must have discussed the past few days with Pablo. Maybe he was angry with her, or disappointed. Then again, she might be imagining problems.

  "Good evening," she said to him, and sat in the chair to his left as Pablo took the one on his right.

  He glanced at her, but his eyes were hidden behind dark glasses. "Salut. Do you feel better now?"

  "Some." Was it her imagination, or was there a distance between them that hadn't been there before?

  He studied her neck. "You have finger marks. Who did this to you?"

  Clare briefly considered describing her strange encounter with Edward, but it didn't feel like the right moment to go into personal details. "Someone who works for Monique. He just seemed to go crazy."

  "Pablo said this man wants you to send me to Taldom."

  "Monique's waiting for you, so you definitely can't go back now."

  Luka sipped his wine. "I don't know. Perhaps if I return, things will finally be settled."

  Pablo grasped Luka's arm. "Walking back into the clutches of that woman is madness."

  "Monique and I have unfinished business. Before I die, it should be laid to rest."

  "Ay, ay, ay. Stop talking about dying or I'll strangle you myself. Let's stay here. This isn't such a bad life."

  Clare braced herself to make things a whole lot worse. "Monique introduced me to one of your relatives, a Jaska Vlad?"

  Luka's forehead creased above the sunglasses. "My cousin."

  "This guy mentioned you owe a debt of honor."

  Luka released a lingering breath. "I expected that."

  "You might want to reconsider going back. He said the debt was death for death because you killed one of your brothers."

  Luka's head jerked around. "That's a lie."

  "I got the impression that Jaska was more interested in keeping Monique happy than the truth."

  Luka removed his sunglasses and twirled them in his fingers. After a few minutes, he dragged in a breath and slid his glasses back in place. "What is Monique up to?"

  "As far as I can make out, she plans to trade you for a supply of a red flower with youth-restoring properties so she can use it in Moray products. The flower extract certainly works. She's been using it herself. She looks hardly any older than me. It's creepy."

  Pablo clicked his tongue. "Her skin looks young but on the inside she's putrid. Like an apple with a rotten core, she has a maggot in her heart."

  Luka stared at his lap, apparently deep in thought. "Is this flower known as Red Death?"

  "You know it?"

  "This flower is rare and grows only on Vlad lands. It's too dangerous to be allowed into this world."

  A little spurt of triumph made Clare smile. She had leverage to make him stay. "You definitely can't return, then. If she doesn't hand you over, your family won't give her the plants."

  Something about Luka's expression troubled her. She wished she could see his eyes behind the sunglasses.

  "Monique will always find a way to get what she wants," he said flatly.
/>
  "She'll try. But don't make it easy for her. Don't walk through that portal and hand yourself over to her."

  "Listen, Luka," Pablo said, "the lady talks sense."

  "I'll think about it, but right now I'm too tired." He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. In the unforgiving glare of the sun, the dark rings beneath his eyes looked as bad as her bruises.

  Pablo went to him and crouched at his side. "We'll have a session tonight."

  Luka raised a hand to silence him. "Not now, please."

  "But I thought maybe Clare—"

  "No!" Luka gave her a brief apologetic glance. "Will you give us a few moments alone?"

  "No problem." Heat stung Clare's cheeks as she stood and strode away between the symmetrical flowerbeds. Luka seemed so awkward in her company. The rapport she'd had with him before she and Pablo went to Taldom might never have existed.

  When she thought she'd gone far enough, she stopped and leaned against the trunk of a large walnut tree, sending a foraging red squirrel scampering away into the bushes.

  She glanced back towards the terrace. Although she was about fifty yards away, the gentle breeze carried the sound of raised voices to her. Luka stood facing the château. Pablo was behind him with his arms extended in an exasperated gesture. After cutting his hand through the air, Luka stomped towards the front door as Pablo watched, hands on hips.

  Pablo turned and scanned the garden, then jogged towards her.

  Clare leaned her head back against the tree trunk. Part of her wanted to know what Luka had said, part of her didn't. It looked as though she would find out anyway. "Problems?" she asked as Pablo drew close.

  Pablo slapped the heel of his hand against the tree trunk. "I love Luka, but sometimes he makes me mad. I wanted you to help me feed Luka tonight, but he says it has to be Lila."

  "How do you know I'd have agreed? I don't even know how the feeding works."

  The irritation on his face melted into a seductive smile. Stroking his fingers along her arm he whispered, "I wanted to make love to you…slowly. Once our pleasure peaked, I'd have passed the energy on to Luka. But he's proud and stubborn. He can't stand the thought of you seeing his vulnerability."