by Kim Faulks
Always the gentleman and never the beast. Ghost courted me under the watchful gaze of my father, until even he couldn’t quell the inferno inside us. We hid behind his love and learned to keep our secret safe. Who’d keep us safe now?
I slid my fingers through his blonde mane, finding the braids along his temple. I wanted to take my time, for his body was still new to me, as mine was to him. But this was about comfort and only in a way he could give.
“Make me not hurt so much, Ghost.”
He lifted his head to stare into my eyes and I saw his pain. He’d lost more than an employer. He’d lost the closest thing he had to a father. I was weightless as he dropped his hands to my waist and lifted, sweeping me through the air to land on his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck, drawing him close. Just a brush. I swept his lips with mine, catching his breath, then moved back to kiss the hard curve.
“He wanted me to find you. Did you know that? He said you’d protect me, said you’d take care of me.”
The electricity in his eyes sparked. I watched the summer sky brew into a storm and I felt his pain as he whispered the words I was dreading. “It kills me knowing I won’t be here for you. Say the word and I’ll stay.”
I shook my head and tried to keep the tremor from my words. “You have to go. It’s your job. Three months. We’ve done it before and we’ll do it again.”
My body trembled with the thought. I dug my fingers into the hard ridge of muscle, desperately scrambling for every second we were together. My nipples tightened, borrowing tension from the juncture of my thighs. I closed my eyes and inhaled. Dirt and pine flooded my senses, and yet, underneath was the faint, metallic scent of blood, reminding me he was the predator.
But not with me—never with me. His breathing deepened. The rise of his chest rubbed harder. He hands slid to the small of my back, pressing me into his stomach. I held onto him, as though I’d never let go.
“You go, and do what you need to do. But, when you come back, I want you to take me from this place. We can disappear, just you and me.”
“You’d leave all of this for me?”
A cold edge followed those words as I lowered my mouth to his. “As long as I have you, I have everything.”
“Three months.” He whispered. “And then, you’re mine.”
“Three months.” I repeated. “You’d better hurry home.”
Chapter Five
Gretel
I kept my back straight and speared my fingers underneath the layers of clothes to the whalebone. The hard edge wore on my rib. I’d bruise before the night ended. I kept my breath light, not taking enough fuel for my spirit, but only the body. Black satin shimmered, as though night descended upon me as I stared at full-length gown in the mirror and felt the pang of pain in my head. I lifted my hand to my temple and pressed the hollow.
“You look lovely, Miss.”
I stared at Sarah’s reflection, and wished for the hundred time I could change my skin and shed my responsibilities. She was polite. But I saw what I was and lovely I was not. My pale skin now flushed from the cinched corset. I traced the faint blue lines to grip my throat.
My small breasts surged with each shudder of my breath, overflowing against the constraints of my dress. My eyes gave too much away. All I saw was sadness—all I felt was disgust. I jerked my head to my bedroom door, hearing the music and the laughter, feeling the betrayal like the spear that pierced Christ Himself. I, like Him, was helpless, nailed to a cross I ought not have to bear.
“I don’t want to go down there.”
Sarah stopped fiddling at the top of my head, smoothing each strand of hair into my bun. Her dark gaze met mine in the reflection and I saw the words she would never utter. “Here’s your medicine, Miss.”
I stared at the small amber bottle in her hand and shook my head. “I don’t want to take that anymore.”
Her flinch drew my gaze. Her eyes widened, lips parted. “But, it’s for your migraines, Miss. Master Hansel was very clear on his instructions. You must take every dose.”
Her hand shook as she shoved the bottle into my hand, reaching out with her other to close my hand around the glass. My pulse was heavy inside my ears. Something wasn’t right. My headaches. The ache was slowly getting worse. How long ago was that? The days blurred into one. My clock had become the disappearing larder and the artic chill of approaching winter. Almost a month. I.... I slid my tongue across my arid lips as my grip tightened and stared at the bottle. After this one I’ll stop. I just need.... “I never had headaches. Not before.”
“You have to take it, Miss. You have to.”
Why? The question seemed so simple, but the the hammer in my head struck just a little harder, sweeping my curiosity aside. I reached for the dropper, untwisting the cap.
“Three drops this time, Miss. It’s because of the funeral. The doctor said to increase the dose.”
“The doctor, or my brother?”
The shake of her head answered my question. “Please, Miss. If you don’t he’ll....”
I squeezed the dropper, and pulled the tip free. The dark reddish liquid stole my thoughts. One swallow and I’d get through this. One swallow and this would all melt away.
I raised the tip to my mouth and squeezed. I shuddered as the bitter brew slid down the back of my throat. Any moment now... any moment. I screwed the lid back in place and listened the ruckus downstairs.
“They are despicable. Laughing and dancing as though this were a celebration. Was there ever a man so caring? So weak in his love for her? Was there ever a man who unselfishly put his family before others? Was there ever a man so beautiful?” I dropped my gaze, unable to bear the weight of those unspoken words. “No, I don’t think so.”
Sarah reached out and took the bottle from my hand. “They will be expecting you, Miss. I wouldn’t want to upset them.”
Make them angry. That’s what she’d really meant. I nodded. “You’re right. I must put others before myself. If Father could do it, then I must.”
I straightened my shoulders and rose from the seat. My heels reverberated in the room as I stumbled to the door. The clink of crystal shattered the drone of voices that swept in a roar of cheer. The noise and the glare turned the pounding inside my head to thunder. I gripped my forehead and pressed my thumb into my temple as the celebrations filled the room.
I followed the sound down the stairs and along the hallway. It seemed Mother’s late notice had been well received. Elegant members of Blacksland spilled out of the entrance to the ballroom. Men and women gossiped, holding full champagne flutes. They laughed and worked their way around the room, seeking a quiet place where they could make fun of my father’s name. They turned to me, aiming those condescending eyes toward mine, then dropping to the full length mourning gown.
The gentleman stepped toward me. His white shirt was covered by a shimmering red vest. I blanched, unable to tear my eyes away. Blood. His shirt reminded me of blood. “Miss?”
I dipped my head, then glanced from the gentleman to his lady friend and muttered. “Good evening.”
I felt the heat of their gaze. Hours of drinking and dancing had turned their eyes bright and cheeks ruddy. They complimented the black and white palette of the room.
“Gretel. Gretel. Come over here and enjoy the company of our guests.” Hansel beckoned.
I shook my head, spying a quiet corner. There were no friends here, none of mine anyway. The empty places set out along the table at the rear of the room remind me of a carcass I’d stumbled upon, flesh gone. Used white napkins stuck out like bones. How many platters had they consumed?
“Gretel. Are you suddenly deaf? Come over here.”
Hansel’s voice was tinged with anger, although he wore a deceptive smile. I neared, taking smaller steps, the corset pinching tighter as I moved. My brother’s army spread out on either side. Men armed with words instead of swords. Words that could wound as well as steel.
I lifted my head, meeting each gaze, as th
ey surrounded me like a pack of hungry jackals. “Hansel. Gentlemen.”
“Where have you been? Hiding in your room no doubt. It seems a little rude, then again you’ve always been unusual, haven’t you?”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks. “You’re drunk.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t change who you are. Don’t you want to mingle with our guests? They’ve come all this way to express their condolences.”
“It looks more like a celebration to me. What are we celebrating, Hansel? His life, or his death?”
There was no reaction, only a steady stare that filled me with dread until he spoke. “Probably a mixture of both. Never forget I loved him, too. My love may differ from yours, but it still exists. I have done my mourning and now I chose to fill my life with the living instead of the dead. I suggest you do the same.”
“Two days. Was that all you could give him, brother? Two measly days?”
He closed the gap. He looked different to me now. His perfect features and regal air was tainted with something darker. “Why don’t you tell my friends about your little plaything?”
I inhaled. The corset bit.
“I'll tell you. A wolf as big as any man. The damn beast stays at her side while she’s running through the forest unchecked and unbalanced. The animal is dangerous and ought to be shot. I fear he will kill a man, or worse, a woman. Shall I be the one to do it, sister? Shall I be the one to kill your beast?”
I strode forward, meeting his chilling gaze with one of my own, and snarled. “You will do no such thing. You’ll leave him alone.”
“I haven’t seen him yet, but when I do you can be sure the scent of gunpowder will fill the air. There’ll be many changes, sister. What once was silent will now be spoken, and there will be new rules. I’ll be taking over father’s business, and as such I require the proper courtesy.”
Father’s business. Hansel was now the man of the house. I’d not realized what had happened in those few hours I’d been gone. The rules had changed. We had a new commander at the helm of our ship, one ruthless and cruel.
I turned and stumbled, searching for a way out, but Hansel’s pack of jackals closed in.
“I’m only thinking of your welfare, sister.” There was a shift, an opening. I speared my arms between the bodies as he finished his tirade. “That, you’ll do well to remember.”
Tears blurred my steps as I rushed into the belly of the room. Conversations stilled as I slipped. My ankle twisted. I tumbled, slapping the marble floor with my hands as I fell. Then the world rushed in, chortled laughter and rowdy voices. The din was everlasting, following me. I shoved from the ground. Pain flared, tearing through my leg like a spear. I swallowed a cry. They wouldn’t see my pain. I wouldn’t allow it.
I wrenched my knees up, trying to find a grip on the marble floor and became tangled in my satin skirt. My leg buckled as I stood. The tight pinch of the corset turned into a steel trap.
My leg quivered as I held my stead. I gripped my skirt, hobbling through the ballroom toward the hallway. I reached for the wall, my fingers brushed the rough wallpaper and fell free.
“Are you okay, my dear? Oh, here, let me help you.”
Someone gripped my waist, carrying me the last few steps. I sank against the wall and yanked the edges of the corset until I could breathe.
“May I be so bold as to look at your ankle?”
I stared into a plump face and tired brown eyes. I tried to place this stranger, searching my memory for a name. “You needn’t bother, it’s fine. Mr.—”
“Adams. Theodore Adams. I was friends with your father.”
He was fatherly in a way, with rounded cheeks that bulged as he smiled. In a small way he reminded me of my father. I clutched hold of his arm, just a moment more. “Did you work with my father?”
“For a while. Then, we parted ways. You look like him a little in the eyes, but you have your mother’s cheekbones, as well as her figure.”
He moved in closer. His heavy breath like a warm touch at my neck, then slipped lower. “She’s beautiful. But you, my dear, are ravishing.”
He moved too fast, pressing me against the wall. My dress bunched around my knees. “You are such a pretty little thing.” Something brushed my thigh. Fingers, seeking, digging under the heavy skirts.
He dropped his head against my neck, trailing his lips lower. My spine gouged the wall, his weight felt like a boulder. I couldn’t move. Trapped, a whimper slipped free. His hand left my arm. Fat fingers covered my lips, mashing my lips against my teeth.
“Hush, girl. Hush. Let me see how beautiful you are.”
He shoved his fingers into my mouth, forcing my teeth apart. “Hush, girl.”
I gagged at the taste of salted pork on his fingers. I whimpered as his meaty fingers scratched my skin.
“Hush, girl.” He clawed my underwear, touching the tender skin between my thighs. “That’s right. That’s a good girl. Let me in there. Give me a little taste.”
He shuddered with a sigh, slipping under the edges of my panties, almost touching... The image of my Ghost filled me. I bared my teeth and clamped down as hard as I could. His hand stilled, lips stilled. His scream ripped through the hallway, cleaving the din.
He stumbled backwards, releasing his hold. I lunged away, gripping the wall. I kept my eyes ahead, grasping air while my leg buckled on the first stair. I gripped the bannister dragging myself up one rung at a time. My hands slipped, taking me down hard onto the timber’s edge.
Thunder cracked overhead. The sound drove me onto my feet, bounding up the never-ending steps. Screams filled the house as the clap struck overhead, vibrating the walls. I surged forward, seeking the sanctity of my room. The candles were snuffed out. I felt the draft to my bones. I welcomed the chill, craved it as I exited the top of the stairs and hobbled along the landing.
Cold, so cold. I slammed the door behind me, not caring about the unladylike sound, and lunged for the window. The forest. I searched, scanning the night as lightening tore across the sky.
There he was, as though he, too, were a bolt of power, standing closer to the house than I’d ever seen him before. My wolf. I pressed my hands against the glass and whispered. “Ghost.”
Chapter Six
Hansel
“Hansel. Where are you going?”
I rolled over, squinting at the sunlight streaming through my window, and ignored the harlot in my bed. My neck tight. I reached for the corded muscles along my spine, and rubbed the thick knots. Last night was a blur, hidden underneath a steady stream of champagne and laudanum.
“I’m hungry, Hansel. Can you fetch me something to eat?”
The sound of her voice left a stale taste in my mouth. One worse than the taste of her pussy. “Get off your fat ass and get it yourself.”
The hiss of breath followed. I smiled and glanced out of my window, my thoughts turned to my sister. Was she in there? Staring out at the same boring view? A memory nagged him. Gretel frightened, staring at me in anger.... My hand shook. Cold fury fueled a desire to wrench my head back and strike.
“Hansel. Why are you so mean?”
I closed my eyes, trying to remember the bitch’s name. Charlotte, that’s right. It rhymes with harlot. I stepped into a trouser leg and yanked on my pants, staring at the white stain on the front. The little harlot in my bed had me in her sights as soon as she’d stepped inside the house. Her hands were down my pants, her lips around my cock at the first opportunity we’d been alone. I unbuttoned the waist and shoved the stained garment to the floor before striding toward my closet. “Get out.”
“What?”
Sheets rustled. I didn’t need to turn around to see the hurt in her face. She displayed it perfectly in the whimper. “Please.”
“I said, get out and don’t come back again.”
“You’re monster. You took advantage of my kindness now you’re casting me aside like a dirty rag. My family has standing in this town. My father is....”
“Your
father is of no consequence to me. You think I’ll care about your middle-of-the-road family when I’m at the helm of my father’s empire? You think I’ll give you a second thought, or rather, a second glance when I pass you on the street? I’ll bed hundreds of whores like you. Thousands in fact, and every one will fight for the chance to wrap their sweet lips around my cock and swallow every drop of my ocean.”
Snotty sobs fled my room as I yanked on clean drawers, followed by fresh trousers. I slipped an arm through my shirt before I reached the door. There was something about my sister, something that wore at me like aching tooth. I strode barefoot into the hall and closed the distance to her door.
The thunder of my fist against her door was loud enough to rouse her from even the deepest sleep. I dropped my hand to the handle. I could force it open. The metal warmed under my palm. A young slut was one thing, but forcing my sister to kneel so soon after Father’s death tasted a little too raw.
So silent, so still. I released the handle and touched the wood. “Gretel, are you in there?”
Did she cower from my voice? I sifted through the watered down memories. Did I hurt her? “I’m sorry if I said, or did something to upset you last night. Come to the door, let me see your face, at least.”
The handle turned, and she set those big eyes upon me. I loved my sister more than any brother should. We were so alike, and vastly different at the same time. She was a different animal. A secretive one, an unusual one. Her hair was in disarray. She was paler than usual. I forced a smile. They came so easy to me now. “There you are.”
“What do you want?”
“I’m heading into town today. I just wanted you to know in case you required anything.”
She shook her head. “No, nothing from you.”
The way she stared, unnerved me. “Have I said something to offend you, or to scare you?”
