by Haven Handel
Standing, legs spread, and feet firmly planted, I removed my cufflinks, tucking them safely into the pocket of my trousers. Rolling up my sleeves, I smiled.
Andrew stood in the Joon Bi Stance, facing me. His feet shoulder length apart, his arms bent hanging by his waist, hands formed in fists. A look of sheer determination was on his face. I almost laughed, but rudeness is one of the things I cannot tolerate.
“Ready?” Alekos stood beside us as we faced off. Catching my eye, Alekos gave me a look of warning, mouthing the words, “Go easy.”
Giving Alekos a nod, I answered, “Ready.” Widening my stance, I brought my hands to my face. I would not use my powers to spar. They would not be needed.
“Ready,” Andrew said. Bending his knees and not wasting a moment, Andrew kicked his right leg forward, straight at my jaw.
Sensing his move, I bent back slightly, avoiding the blow.
Frustrated, Andrew returned his foot to the ground, resuming his stance.
“Again,” Alekos called, his worried eyes cutting to me.
I waited. Andrew sized me up, moving around me, keeping his form and plotting his next move. My hands still before my face, I moved counterclockwise across from him, step for step.
Andrew was faster than I’d anticipated. Throwing a right leg back kick at me, Andrew almost touched me. Shifting to his left, I moved into his open side. Bringing my leg up, I curbed my strength to deliver a roundhouse kick.
Caught off guard by the speed of my movement, and already off balance from his attempted back kick, Andrew fell to the ground.
Giving me a wary look, Alekos called, softly. “Point.”
I reached out my hand to help Andrew from the ground.
His eyes shot daggers at me, slapping my hand away. From his haunches, he sprang up towards me, tackling me around my waist, pulling me to the ground.
Landing on my side, I quickly shifted my weight, pinning his shoulders to the ground. In my haste, my elbow jabbed the corner of his mouth.
“You want to spar, or you want to fight?” I growled at him.
“Deo,” Alekos said, sharply.
The boy loathed me; I could see it in his blue eyes. Giving my opponent one last hard look, I released his shoulders with a shove. Andrew lay on the ground, his eyes burning into mine as he dabbed at his bloodied lip.
“My apologies,” I said, standing. Brushing the dirt and leaves from my trousers, I turned to Alekos. “All’s fair in love and war, no?” Slowly I unrolled my sleeves, reinserting my cufflinks, as Andrew rose from the ground.
Andrew stood across from me, hands on his trim hips. His stony gaze bore into mine.
“I’ll walk you out,” Alekos murmured, placing a hand on my shoulder and turning me away from the courtyard. When we were out of earshot of the pup, he said, “Did you have to make him bleed, Deo? Geeze. As if things aren’t complicated enough. I can’t have you added to the list of things I have to protect mankind from.”
“With my wife surrounded by men, is it terrible that I show a little dominance?” I murmured. “There is only so much one husband can take,” I said, flicking a stray leaf I had missed from my shoulder.
Stopping at the Wicket Gate, Alekos gave me a disapproving look. “What has he done to you?” he asked, holding his hands up in disbelief.
Considering the warm, kind eyes of my younger brother I said, “Private lunches, with my wife. Daily, for the last six months,” I answered, quietly.
Understanding softened Alekos’ features. After a moment of contemplation, he said, “Old wounds, brother.” Placing a hand on my shoulder, his voice quieted. “What’s past is past, Deo. Andrew is no threat to you.”
“You are right, little brother. The elbow was a childish move. Forgive me.” I felt a satisfied smile spread over my face.
Alekos chuckled. “I think you are apologizing to the wrong man.” Locking his eyes on mine, he continued, “Seriously, Deo, the way Cassandra has looked at you the last few days—no man on this Earth is a threat to your marriage, now.” Looking wistfully over the wall towards the basilica, running a hand through his brown curls, Alekos said, “I would like to know what it feels like to have someone look at me like that.”
Wrapping an arm around Alekos’ shoulders, I said, “You are a good man, my brother. The time will come. Draco is—reserved—with displaying his emotions. That doesn’t mean the cards are off the table. Patience, my friend.”
Alekos gave me a boyish grin. “As reserved as he is handsome, no?”
“Focus, Alekos,” I commanded, giving Alekos a roguish shove. I could not have my brother’s emotions clouding his judgment come battle time. Our priorities needed to remain clear.
Giving a nod, my brother returned to Andrew.
Watching the men prepare to spar, Andrew threw a hard glance my way. I left the courtyard, silence following in my wake. There would be retribution for my actions with Andrew, I had no doubt. These are the ways when a pup chooses to challenge a wolf.
***
Dinner was quiet. The team was too tired, or too overwhelmed, to speak. I sat at the head of the table, the tines of my fork piercing the delicate flesh of the fish before me. Cassandra had not touched her food, and looked as if she would fall asleep in her plate.
Sensing my gaze, her warm eyes looked to me, giving me a weak smile.
“Eat, my love,” I quietly admonished.
Dutifully, she speared at a piece of lamb, popping it into her mouth. Chewing slowly, Cassandra gave me an impish look.
“Good girl,” I said, enjoying the flush that rose in her cheeks. My affections for her could no longer be hidden. I would not apologize for my terms of endearment, or how they made others feel.
My eyes touched on Andrew. Ravenous, he was devouring the meal Aunt Margaret had laid before him. “Hungry, this one,” she had chuckled amicably as she refilled his plate while he gave murmurs of thanks. Surprisingly, she was warming to the boy.
Cynthia was seated beside Baal, chatting over dinner. In her hands, she held a purple crystal. It glittered against her russet skin. Leaning in closer than was necessary, Baal ran a finger over her palm, explaining the violet charm’s properties and abilities. Her tigress eyes were locked on Baal, mesmerized as much by his face as she was the magic that she held.
Draco sat to my left, across from Cassandra, as always. His face expressionless, he carefully tucked away the greens and meat on his plate, his wary eyes darting up to my bride every other moment or so. When she would catch his eye, Cassandra would shoot him a friendly smile. Once, he returned the look with his own, soft grin. So, guardian and princess were becoming friends. I would learn to live with that. The more comfort my wife had in this trying time, the better.
Alekos sat beside Cassandra, Xander to his right. The protectors spoke in Greek, their voices hushed. Tired as she was, they could have been speaking in English and Cassandra would not have overheard the deadly words coming from their mouths. I knew Alekos was discussing the timeframe with which Xander must leave us, and from what I gathered of his words, it was soon.
Suddenly, Baal’s face whipped from Cynthia’s, to mine. His features tightening, his brow narrowing as he spoke, “Deo, we have guests.”
“So, we have,” I replied, now able to hear the crunch of tires over gravel. “That will be Artem.”
At the sound of the powerful name, Xander, Alekos and Draco looked to me. Xander’s young face was smooth, his hair falling over one eye as he locked his intense gaze with mine. As I gave a nod of my head, he bid Alekos farewell and slipped from the table, towards the rear exit of the room.
“Time is nearing,” I said quietly. Cassandra’s brown eyes widened as she gazed into mine. I did not detect fear in her chocolate irises, but there was touch of uncertainty. She did not feel she was prepared for what was coming. Placing my hand over hers, I assured her, “We will all be well, my love.”
Excusing himself from the table, Baal rose and left the dining room to greet our guests. I
stood from my seat, and the others followed suit, Andrew looking uncertainly to his left, then right before joining us. Moving over to Cassandra, I wrapped my arm protectively around my insecure wife, hoping to bring her some peace. She quickly wrapped her arms around my torso, nuzzling her head into my chest. “All is well, baby girl,” I murmured into her ear. “All is well.”
A few quiet moments later, Baal poked his head into the wide doorway. His long hair was swept back, his green eyes sparkling, and a wide grin spread across his face. “It is Artem, and he has brought Dolly,” Baal said before ducking back out of the dining room to retrieve our guests.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Artem was much more relaxed in his wife’s presence, though he rarely allowed her to travel with him.
Peering up at me from her secure place underneath my arm, Cassandra whispered, “Who are Artem and Dolly?”
“My aunt and uncle,” I answered, keeping my voice light. “Not much older than Alekos and I, they stepped in when my parents passed away. Dolly was like a second mother to us, some years ago.”
Baal was back. With him, standing arm in arm, were a couple in their early fifties. My Uncle Artem, though shorter than us and having grown stouter in the last few years, stood proud, commanding respect by his presence alone. His once dark hair was now silver, his bronzed skin creased with slightly more wrinkles than before. I was relieved to detect a small smile on his stoic face.
“Well, hey, y’all!” Dolly unattached herself from her husband’s arm, flashing the room a bright, broad smile, waving a porcelain hand. Blonde and silver curls bounced as she teetered over to Cassandra on strappy metallic high-heeled sandals. Even in the heeled shoes, Dolly stood a head shorter than Cassandra, as she grabbed my wife into a hug.
A smile of surprise and delight came over Cassandra’s face. Dolly’s enthusiasm was infectious. She brought a lightness to the dark castle. Wrapped in a loud, flowered printed dress, Dolly’s looks did not fit in at Ravensloft, but it always felt homier in her presence.
“This must be the lovely Cassandra,” she cried, smoothing a hand familiarly over Cassandra’s shiny locks. Her cornflower blue eyes locked on mine. “Deo, she is more beautiful than you described. Now how can that be possible?” Not waiting for an answer, Dolly took her attention from me, grabbing both of Cassandra’s hands in hers. “That man was so stuck on you. I swear when he first met you, that was all we heard about—Cassandra this, Cassandra that. He could not wait for your wedding day.”
Rarely embarrassed, I felt an unfamiliar flush rise in my neck. “And may I greet you, or am I chopped liver in my wife’s breathtaking presence?” I asked, reaching my arms out to embrace Dolly.
Looking me over with motherly pride, Dolly hugged me tightly to her. “Deo, I haven’t seen you in so long. Though I know you’ve been busy since”—her eyes darted to Cassandra—“never mind, all in good time.”
Alekos joined us, calling out a jovial, “Long time no see.” Wrapping his arms around Dolly, he lifted her right off the floor, twirling her in his arms. “Hello, petite Mama,” he said, joyfully.
Laughing, Dolly slapped his back with her jewel covered fingers. “Put me down, Alekos,” she shrieked.
Clearing his throat from across the room, Artem cut his eyes to Alekos. Kissing Dolly’s cheek, Alekos returned our aunt to the ground. Flushed, she straightened her dress, elbowing Alekos good-naturedly.
Artem spoke. “Deo, Alekos, a pleasure to see you again, my sons.” Looking over our group, he added, “There are more here than we anticipated.” His cold eyes rested on Andrew and Cynthia.
Striding across the dining room, Cynthia held out her hand to Artem. I was impressed with her natural confidence and composure.
“Hello, Artem, my name is Cynthia,” she said clearly, giving Artem a firm handshake. Gesturing over her shoulder, she said, brightly, “And this is Andrew. We have come to join the team.”
Releasing her hand, Artem asked, coolly, “And how exactly have you come to join our team?”
Clearing his throat, Andrew answered, “Friends of Cassandra.”
“Ah, Cassandra,” Artem said, fully laying eyes, up close, on my wife for the first time. A look of disdain crossed his furrowed brow, though so slight only I or Draco could have detected it there.
I felt Draco tense by my side. When the guardian had joined Cassandra and me on this side of the table, I had no idea.
“Easy,” I whispered through my teeth, to the dragon. Draco shifted his weight on his feet at my word. Cassandra looked up at me anxiously. I gave her an easy smile, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, holding her tightly to my side.
“Artem, it is my honor to introduce you to my wife, Cassandra.”
Hands locked behind his back, Artem strode over to where we were standing. Stopping in front of Cassandra, his eyes roved over her. I could feel my wife becoming ill at ease. Catching Artem’s eye, I sent him a look, suggesting he go easy on my wayward bride. Artem was a fierce believer in devotion, fidelity, and loyalty. He was not pleased with my wife.
Not reaching a hand out in greeting, Artem stood solid, giving Cassandra a hard stare. Dark brows knitting together, he spoke quietly. “The young wife. And so, we finally meet.”
Cassandra froze in my arms.
The tense silence was interrupted by Dolly’s cheerful twang. “Oh, my, y’all, is this Margaret’s cooking? I declare I am simply famished from that trip. Florida is so much warmer than New York. Just being out in the cold made me hungry,” she said, placing a gentle hand on Artem’s forearm.
Jumping at the chance to lighten the mood of the room, Baal and Alekos quickly made room for our guests at the table, moving place settings and glasses down the line. “Sit, sit,” Alekos commanded, pulling out a chair for Aunt Dolly. “I’ll go talk Margaret into bringing out some more food.”
“Better he then I,” Baal joked. “Margaret would beat me with her spoon if I requested more food.”
At Baal’s proclamation, Artem shot me a knowing glance, his mouth tight. He felt that I was at fault for our predicament. Having encouraged me to take my wife in hand immediately after marrying, he believed we would not be in this mess had I understood her better, keeping her close and not allowing room for her to stray. The vows were broken, and the darkness was unleashed.
What more could I do than learn from the mistakes of my past? I looked away from Artem’s dark gaze.
Margaret came shuffling out, followed by Alekos. Greeting her with a kiss on the cheek, Artem took my seat at the head of the table. Baal sat to his right, Dolly to his left, and Alekos next to her. I sat beside Baal, Cassandra beside myself, and Draco, as always across from my wife. With the lethal looks Artem was sneaking at Cassandra between bites of food, for the first time, I was happy to have Draco so close.
Everyone else moved down a seat, returning to their half-finished meals. Dolly and Alekos chatted animatedly, like mother and son who had much to catch up on. I saw her sneak a glance across Alekos, at Draco’s handsome profile, giving Alekos a knowing smile. Alekos’ face flushed.
I rested my hand on Cassandra’s thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Uncharacteristically quiet, she looked up, giving me an unsure smile. It was obvious she sensed Artem’s disdain for her.
“Don’t worry,” I murmured lowly, “he will grow to love you. I promise.”
Picking worriedly at her food with her fork, Cassandra did not reply.
“Eat,” I said, giving her thigh a firmer squeeze. I would not have my wife practicing all day and not nourishing her body. We would sit here until everyone else had eaten and excused themselves from the table if that was what it took for her to finish a meal.
Giving a small sigh, Cassandra obeyed, biting into a piece of lamb.
Artem watched us, curiously. My eyes locked with his. There was much we needed to discuss.
Chapter Six
Pouring from the decanter of Glenlivet, I half-filled two cut crystal tumblers. I placed them on
the tray beside the cigars, hoping Margaret would not notice two gone from her stash. I had found them, hidden in the false wall of the library, where I knew she kept her supply.
The Glenlivet was mine. Not one to drink, I preferred to keep my wits about me, but there was still a time and a place for a quality glass of liquor to be shared between men. I sat in one of the wingback chairs, facing the fire and waited for Artem. The tray sat on a dark wood table between the two chairs, the Scotch whiskey and cigars waiting. I watched the flames flickering in the stone fireplace.
This was, by far, my favorite room in the castle. Each night, after tucking Cassandra sweetly into her bed, I retreated here, to be alone with my thoughts, my planning. Being the leader, responsible for all’s well-being, could be lonely at times. Though I was wary of Artem’s current disdain for my wife, I was glad to have him here, now, hoping to glean from his wisdom. Time was running out.
There was a light knock at the door. “Come in,” I called, lifting the tumblers from the tray.
Artem appeared, closing the heavy door behind him with a loud click of the brass latch.
His heavy footsteps fell as he crossed the room to me. Releasing his breath, he settled his body into the deep chair. Giving me a rare, comfortable smile, Artem took a glass from me, clinking it to mine as he did. Eyeing the cigars, his smile brightened. “Margaret’s, no doubt. Will she miss them?”
“I’m sure I will pay the price,” I said, lifting a cigar and twirling it delicately in my fingers. “But for a Vamma Del Sol, I will risk it.”
Taking a sip of his scotch, Artem relaxed in a way he only could when either alone, or in the presence of Dolly or me. As I said, it can be burdensome to have the safety of others resting on your shoulders, and as the head of the Ambrosia family, his weight was even greater than mine.
“Rest, catch your breath,” I said, taking a sip of the amber liquor. It warmed the insides of my mouth, and I let it rest there a moment, enjoying the burn on my tongue before swallowing. “I know the carefree golfing in Florida has you tired,” I ribbed.
