Midnight Soul (Fantasyland #5)

by Kristen Ashley

  “I don’t understand the import of that information,” I declared haughtily.

  “Just tell me how old,” he pushed.

  “If it’s that interesting to you, five.”

  He rose.

  Immediately.

  Coming straight out of his crouch in a powerful surge, he stood towering beside me on the bed.

  And now, at the expression on his face, I fought cowering before him.

  “Five?” he whispered.

  I fought the pain as I pushed up on my forearms, beginning, “Noc—”

  “Five?” he hissed.

  I stared up at him, unable to speak in the face of his fury.

  Fury on my behalf.

  Something that had never happened, not from Kristian, not from Antoine.

  Not from anyone.

  “You were coerced, Franka, whether you know that shit or not,” he bit off, and before I could utter a noise, even if I had no intention of doing so, a knock came at the door and Noc barked, “Come in!”

  He then prowled to the door as a maid came through with towels.

  He did this continuing to bark, just not as loudly, and dispensed with the “pleases” and ludicrous “that’d be awesomes” and behaved like the man he would be if he was of this world.

  In other words, he issued commands.

  “Change the towel with a clean, cool one on her back. Give her the goddamned sleeping drink so she can get some relief from the pain. And get the fucking doctor in here.” He was at the door the maid had scurried through and he turned to me. “You move from that bed, baby, I’m gonna be fuckin’ pissed. Let her take care of you, drink the goddamned drink, get some rest. I’ll be back.”

  I had no earthly clue what “fuckin’ pissed” meant.

  I still nodded.

  Noc watched me do it.

  Then he swept out the door.

  Chapter Four

  How It Was Going to Be

  Noc

  It took three of Frey’s guys to pull Noc off the man.

  Even accomplishing this, he still struggled against their hold, knowing every blow he’d dealt didn’t make him feel better, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get gratification each time his fist landed in the asshole’s flesh.

  “I understand your anger, Noc, but this is not helping,” Frey said from close.

  “It defies belief you’d allow that…that…man to lay his hands on me.”

  At Franka’s father’s words, Noc went still.

  His entire body.

  But not his mouth.

  “It defies belief you took that fuckin’ whip to your daughter since she was fuckin’ five without anyone stopping you,” he spat, feeling no joy as he watched Franka’s father swipe blood from his mouth seeing as Noc’s repeated blows to his face where the whip had caught earlier tore that wound long and wide.

  He felt no joy mostly because he also felt the job was not even close to done.

  It took a while for the vibe in the room to hit him, but when it did he jerked away from Frey’s boys and turned his attention to the man himself.

  Frey’s face was carved from stone, his eyes directed at his uncle, and they were blazing with hellfire.

  “Since she was five?” he whispered, his tone heavy with disbelief and disgust, not to mention rage.

  Noc shifted his attention back to the older man when he replied, “It’s none of your concern, nephew, what I do with my children.”

  “It’s bloody law in Lunwyn that corporal punishment of minors does not go beyond a simple spanking or a paddle,” Frey shot back.

  “She’s now an adult,” the man retorted.

  “Which does not negate the crime of child cruelty, but adds the crime of assault,” Frey declared.

  “I’m a member of a House, your House, may I remind you,” Franka’s father returned.

  “You’re a monster,” Noc clipped.

  The man turned his gaze to Noc. “And you’re a peasant who I’ve not given leave to speak to me.”

  Noc opened his mouth but Frey got there before him.

  “Are you unfamiliar with the Prince of Hawkvale?” he asked.

  “I know of these secrets,” the asshole fired back, a sneer twisting his lips, “and this is not the heir to the throne of Hawkvale.” He indicated Noc with his arm. “This man is nothing.”

  “This man saved you from slavery at the hands of Minerva and her minions,” Frey retorted. “This man has the ear of the Queen. The Princess. And The Drakkar. This man is twin to the heir of Hawkvale. This man is far from nothing.”

  “You can pretty him up as much as you like, nephew, but his manner, his speech. He may look like a prince of our world, but he’s far from that. He’s simply common,” Franka’s father returned.

  “Cease speaking,” Frey ordered.

  “You are who you are, Frey, but I’m your uncle, your elder, and you never have leave to speak to me in that manner,” Franka’s father retorted.

  “Cease…” Frey leaned forward and thundered, “speaking.”

  “I—”

  That was all the asshole got out before Frey was across the room with his hand wrapped around the guy’s throat, his feet lifted two feet from the ground, and he was slammed into a shelving unit so hard, all the bottles swayed and four crashed to the ground.

  “I said…cease speaking,” Frey repeated through clenched teeth.

  Franka’s father opened and closed his mouth like he was fighting for air at the same time he clawed at Frey’s arm at his throat.

  “You better hope Valentine returns with Anneka, reporting Kristian and his family are safe, healthy and whole, or I swear to the gods, uncle, I’ll press for you to fucking swing,” Frey warned.

  Franka’s father made a gurgling noise and Frey dropped him to the ground where he crumpled, landing on a hand and his knees.

  Frey turned immediately from him to one of the men standing close to Noc.

  “Thad, go to Finnie. Franka’s maid woke her along with me and no doubt she’s still awake seeing as she wasn’t keen on not accompanying me to the kitchens. Ask her to go to Noc’s room, attend Franka as the physician sees to her and ask her to stay there,” he ordered.

  Thad nodded and took off.

  Frey looked to one of the other men close to Noc and demanded, “Lund, fetch the constable. Nils Drakkar is being arrested tonight for child cruelty and assault.”

  Lund didn’t nod. He smiled a humorless smile and then he left the room.

  “Arrested?” Nils Drakkar asked in a choked voice, still on his knees, only his head was tipped back to look at his nephew.

  “You’ve been committing crimes for decades, uncle. You’ll stand trial for those crimes and pay the penance,” Frey announced.

  Nils pushed himself to his feet, declaring, “That’s absurd.”

  “It’s the law,” Frey returned.

  The older man’s back shot straight. “I’m a Drakkar!”

  “You’re a gods damned useless piece of shite,” Frey bit out, turning again fully to his uncle. “I still cannot grasp what I saw when I walked into this room. I don’t even want to. How could you mark your child that way? It’s unfathomable to do to a son. But it’s unconscionable to do it to a daughter.”

  Nils tossed his head. “You know Franka. She earned many punishments.”

  “And her punishment was tearing open her flesh?” Frey asked with incredulity.

  “As her father, it’s my decision what her punishment would be.”

  “And that decision you made will land you in a cell,” Frey fired back. “And if I have anything to do with it, and in case you haven’t grasped this, uncle, I have a great deal to do with everything, you’ll stay in that cell until your dying day.”

  Nils expression filled with disdain as he snapped, “You cannot mean that.”

  “Look at my face,” Frey demanded, “and tell me if I do or I do not.”

  Nils obviously looked at Frey’s face because his paled.

 
Even so, he fought his corner. “I cannot believe you stand in defense of her after she committed treason.”

  “Excellent,” Frey weirdly replied, crossing his arms on his chest in a way it looked like he was settling in. “Let’s talk about that. How, precisely, did you know of that?”

  The older man lifted his chin.

  “Anneka and I keep informed about our children,” Nils informed him.

  “Not surprisingly you do this likely with spies, paid sneaks and unlawful magic, because I’ve noted that for years neither of your children have had anything to do with you,” Frey retorted. “Now I know why.”

  “I’ll remind you, nephew, she came to this buttery of her own accord,” Nils shared.

  It was time for Noc to butt in and he did just that.

  “She came to this buttery to protect her brother.”

  Nils’s eyes went to Noc. “Weakness. The both of them. My bloody son, I’ve no idea how he makes it through a night, petrified of his own shadow. And her. My daughter. Twisting herself in knots to hide her brother’s affliction from me and her mother, like we wouldn’t notice it and lament it. Putting herself in line for his punishments because the boy faints and cries and begs, and she can’t bear it. Even going so far as misbehaving, courting our ire, so we’ll turn our attention to her. It’s obscene. A flaw in her character.”

  “And I’m sure you punished her for that too,” Frey said in a quiet, dangerous voice.

  “Of course I did,” Nils snapped. “She’s a Drakkar. She was taught to know better. And that boy…” He sniffed before he declared, “My son should have ascended to Head of the House. You didn’t want it and neither of your soft-hearted brothers deserved it. Instead, my son attached himself to a sniveling woman who pushed out a worthless child, causing his mother and myself inexpressible shame.”

  Noc watched as Frey held his uncle’s eyes, and he did this for a long time before he turned away and dropped his head. Lifting his hand to the back of his neck, he wrapped it there and squeezed.

  He released his neck, his hand falling, his gaze coming to Noc’s.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  “In pain, but still uppity as all hell and worried sick about her brother,” Noc answered.

  Frey nodded.

  “The other Heads of the Houses will not stand for my incarceration,” Nils declared.

  Frey turned back to him. “This is a delusion. When they hear of what you’ve done, they’ll stand in line to condemn you. But even if what you believe were to be the case, I would not care.”

  “You hold great power, nephew, but you do not rule this land,” Nils fired back, his face twisted.

  “You are correct,” Frey agreed. “But my mother-in-law does and it was me who seated her on that throne.”

  Nils drew in a long, loud breath through his nose.

  “Bloody hell,” Frey muttered, looking to the ceiling. “I can’t stand to be in his presence much longer. Where’s that bloody witch?”

  “You called?”

  Both Noc and Frey turned toward the feminine drawl, and they did this just in time to see the green smoke start to dissipate and Valentine lift her hand in an indifferent gesture. This movement caused the handsome but frightened-looking woman she’d brought with her to tumble back. She slammed into Nils Drakkar, taking them both into the shelves where more bottles fell and smashed on the ground.

  “Pity, waste of good liquor,” Valentine noted casually.

  “Kristian and his family?” Frey asked.

  Valentine looked to him. “Frightened, but no harm had been done. Though I arrived just in time.”

  “She’s a witch,” Frey informed Valentine.

  “She was a witch,” Valentine returned. “I’ve stripped her of her powers.”

  “What?” Nils whispered.

  Noc looked to him. He was now holding his wife in a protective embrace Noc didn’t think the man had in him.

  “It’s true, my love,” his wife said in a trembling voice. “My magic, she took it.” Her gaze wandered fearfully to Valentine. “Her power is…I’ve never felt anything like it.”

  “This is…it is…it’s,” Nils sputtered, “unspeakable.” He speared Valentine with his eyes. “Return it immediately.”

  “If you don’t cease speaking to me in this manner, you odious man, you’ll find yourself without a tongue,” Valentine retorted.

  “Who do you think you are?” Nils demanded, pulling his wife behind him and taking a step toward Valentine.

  When he did, the witch lifted her hand and snapped.

  Nils stopped immediately. Both his hands shooting to his mouth, his eyes getting huge, his facing losing all color, he staggered back and Noc watched as his eyes got even more huge and he rolled his jaw around in a bizarre way that was also creepy as fuck.

  “Valentine,” Frey sighed.

  “I’ll give it back,” she promised, but finished with, “eventually.”

  Noc stared at her. “You took his tongue?”

  She tipped her head to the side. “I didn’t fancy how he was using it.”

  “Bloody hell,” Frey muttered.

  Frey’s last man in the room, a guy named Ruben, chuckled.

  “I assume you have plans for these two cretins that I’ll approve of?” Valentine asked Frey.

  “I’m uncertain you’ll approve of them but I can assure you they’ll be punished,” Frey answered.

  She shifted only her eyes Nils and Anneka’s way. “Punished seems a tame word in this instance.”

  “They’re going to be inhabiting a cell for the rest of their days,” Frey shared. “Does that suffice?”

  “You can’t be serious.” Anneka’s words sounded forced out.

  Frey looked to his aunt. “I can’t?”

  She took in his face and shrunk away.

  “I suppose that’ll do,” Valentine murmured.

  Having turned fully to them, she was eyeing them like she would eye a pesky rodent she intended to trap by breaking its back and then dispose of.

  “I’m done here,” Frey stated and looked to Ruben. “Keep an eye on them until Lund gets back with the constable.”

  “Right, Frey,” Ruben answered.

  He turned to Valentine. “Give him back his tongue.”

  She gave him a small smile. “Can’t I keep it?”

  “Give it back, Valentine.”

  “Just for a little while,” she coaxed.

  “Valentine, there’s Franka to see to,” Frey reminded her.

  That took the witch’s attention. She lifted her hand, snapped, and Nils instantly whispered a relieved yet horrified, “By the gods.”

  Frey wasted no time sweeping an arm out for Valentine to precede him, something she did. He glanced at Noc. Noc lifted his chin. Frey moved and Noc followed him.

  They were through the kitchens and heading to the main stairs when Frey spoke.

  “I’ve known her since she was a little girl. But you were right.”

  Noc stopped. Valentine stopped. And they both found that Frey had stopped.

  His attention was to Noc.

  “There’s great substance to anyone who would endure what she did, doing it for decades to protect her brother,” Frey continued.

  Noc said nothing.

  Valentine also remained silent.

  “Kristian is not as Nils described him,” Frey went on. “But his wit is not as sharp as his sister’s. And his will definitely not as strong. I cannot imagine how he would cope even with the threat of the lash, much less feeling the bite of it. But Franka, what I saw, I don’t even know how she remained standing.”

  “She remained standing so her brother would not fall,” Noc pointed out.

  Frey shook his head. “I would never think she had this in her.”

  “The two people who, from birth, were meant to love her, look after her, protect her, but for Franka they were those two fuckwads,” Noc jerked his head in the direction they came, “it’s no surprise she did everything s
he could to make certain no one got close. This guy, the one who died, had to be something to tear off the mask she’d been wearing for so long it’s a wonder it didn’t fuse with her skin.”

  “I see this now,” Frey said softly, and it didn’t take a cop who could read people to read he was kicking his own ass for not seeing any of this earlier.

  “Man, she was a master,” Noc told him something he knew. “Twice, I’ve been around her, and she’s always trying that shit with me even though she knows I see right through it. Don’t beat yourself up. You were feeling for her exactly what she wanted you to feel.”

  Frey continued to look into Noc’s eyes as he nodded.

  “You two should feel free to stand here in the hallway of a palace in the middle of the night and dissect how Franka Drakkar’s childhood traumas have affected the woman she’s become,” Valentine drawled. “I, however, am going to go see to the woman herself.”

  With that, no other way to put it, she flounced away, but elegantly, as Noc was noticing was the only way that woman did anything.

  Noc and Frey started moving after her a whole lot slower. Noc wanted to go a fuckuva lot faster but he felt Frey’s mood, so he kept his strides in line with the other man’s.

  “Looking back,” Frey started reflectively as they began to walk up the stairs, “outside, of course, what she did for her lover, and that’s explainable considering he’s the only person she’s allowed to see behind her mask, she never did aught truly amiss, except be catty and forcefully unlikeable. She even came forward with helpful information when Finnie and I were having our troubles when my wee one came to me.”

  “Frey, brother, you can knock yourself out trying to find the signs you missed that’d lead you to her true character,” Noc replied. “But that secret was a secret well kept. You didn’t know what was happening to her so you couldn’t do a damned thing about it. Just count yourself lucky you know now.”

  “Yes,” Frey muttered. “Difficult to do. But wise.”

  When they made the top of the stairs, Noc started to move faster and thankfully Frey came out of his thoughts and moved with him.

  They’d barely cleared the door before Finnie was at her husband.