Thousands

by Pepper Winters

  I’d known pain. Immense, earthquaking pain.

  But I’d never known something quite as sharp or quick as the heartbreak of knowing I could never give Elder a child. That this new ticking inside me was counting on a broken clock. A clock that would never be able to tell the time or deliver what I suspected was the one thing Elder wanted most in the world.

  What if he eventually resented me?

  Tears trickled from my heart to my eyes at the thought of not being whole. Of not being able to give him everything he needed and more.

  I need to leave...

  The pain just kept getting worse.

  My fingernails dug into the dense fabric around my waist.

  Common sense tried to snap me out of it.

  Even if I could have children, I was young. Didn’t I want to continue being young? There was no rush.

  I almost scoffed at the thought. For two years, I’d lived wanting nothing more than to die. Now I was living I wanted to live. I wanted to laugh every minute and smile every hour. I wouldn’t let right or wrong timelines sway my life.

  Never again.

  Even my mother had advised the same.

  And I can’t do a damn thing about it.

  “Pim?” Elder brushed his lips over my ear, wrenching me back into my exquisite gown, drenching me in threads of orchestra music, and leaving me standing before the lord and lady of this ancient manor.

  I gasped, rubbing at the burning in my heart before dropping my touch protectively over a stomach that would forever be flat and useless.

  Get it together.

  Forget it.

  You’re alive. Focus on that and stop asking for more than you deserve.

  “Sorry? What?”

  Elder scowled. “Are you okay?” He pulled back, planting his hands on my shoulders. “Panic attack?” His eyes scanned over my head to the ballroom still chaotic with dancers and partiers. “Shit, I didn’t think. Crowds—they’ll be too much for you.”

  How funny that I hadn’t even thought about it.

  I’d arrived with Selix protecting me and found Elder’s stunning face half hidden behind a rich velvet mask, and I’d been happy, not fearful.

  I’d had nothing to be frightened of until this moment, and the one person I was most afraid of was me.

  I was afraid of losing him because I wasn’t whole.

  I was afraid of the things I would do to ensure he never knew my horrendous secret.

  I was afraid of the insidious whispers of seducing him to see if the doctors were wrong. Of using him to find out one way or another if I was truly damaged beyond repair.

  How far would I go if I let myself tumble down that path?

  Not waiting for my reply, Elder grabbed my elbow and stomped toward the exit. “We’re leaving. This was a bad idea.”

  Leave?

  I couldn’t.

  Not yet.

  Not until I’d had time to plaster my holes together and render over them to hide the cracks.

  “No, wait.” I leaned against his tug, dragging us to a standstill. “I’m fine. Sorry, my mind just drifted.”

  Don’t see my lies.

  Elder scowled, disbelief on his face as he peered into my eyes. “Are you sure?”

  His black gaze, as usual, was far too perceptive and had an uncanny way of deep sea fishing into my soul, hooking the truth even while it did its best to wriggle away.

  Forcing a smile, I nodded. “I’m sure.” I touched his wrist gently. “I keep thinking my ailments are private, but you were there when I had that panic attack on the stairs.” It wasn’t the right thing to do—bringing up our first meeting at Alrik’s once again, but I’d rather cast his mind to that terrible place than this new one I couldn’t formulate. “You gave me your jacket. You started my heart beating again. I promise on that moment that if I have another attack, I’ll tell you and beg you to take me far away where it’s just the two of us.”

  And possibly never three or four.

  I crushed the voice of barrenness.

  His eyes tightened. His teeth sinking into his bottom lip with deliberation. He made me weak and wanting, encouraging me to fib.

  “You know...” I lowered my lashes, letting some of my pain show. “You might be right. I might’ve had a tiny panic attack, but I’m fine now.” I looked up, forcing every courage and falsehood onto my face. “Truly, El.”

  It took him an eternity—an eternity where I wanted to perish for deliberately lying to him—until he nodded gruffly. “Fine.”

  My tongue fluttered for more fibs, needing to patch up the awkwardness between us. Only our host stepped forward, inserting himself into our conversation.

  “I’m sorry for overhearing, but did you say you struggle in crowds, too?” Jethro Hawk asked in a deceptively bored voice.

  My eyes narrowed, hearing more than I should in his tone. No matter the aloof politeness on his face, he couldn’t hide the sudden interest hiding there.

  His wife scowled, floating closer and placing her hand on his arm as if in some subtle code to behave.

  Forcing my eyes from the golden inspection of her husband, I shrugged as if this whole thing was a huge waste of time and misunderstanding. “Like anyone, I have moments of fear as well as every other emotion. Who doesn’t?”

  Jethro rubbed his chin, his salt and pepper hair turning him ageless as well as wise. “Everyone does but some more so than others.”

  He spoke as if he were ancient and not in his early thirties as I suspected. He phrased things in a way that hinted he wasn’t just talking about our current topic.

  He unnerved me.

  “Just like fear, some unlucky people have endured more trauma in their past than others.” I shot back, unwilling to let him win. I didn’t know why my hackles rose when he stared at me. My back prickled as if he could see more than he should. As if he understood exactly why I’d gone so quiet and why my heart raced so sickly now.

  “Trauma can come in many forms, no doubt about that.” His wife smiled.

  My chin rose. “I agree. Only there is no such trauma now.” Pressing close to Elder, more for my benefit than for his, I added, “Elder is the reason I no longer endure that word.” Feeling far too studied and stripped bare, I turned ever more defensive. Jethro’s question repeated in my mind. The fact he’d asked if I struggled in crowds too, meant he had issues himself.

  He might be the master of this castle, but I wouldn’t let anyone unsettle me again. “Why do you not enjoy crowds, Mr. Hawk? If you prefer smaller company, why invite so many guests tonight?”

  Mr. Hawk kept his face indifferent. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy crowds. It’s that they provide too many opportunities like this one.” He waved his hand as his wife cleared her throat. Shooting her a glance, he said, “Anyway, that is another subject for another time. To answer your question simply, I prefer the company of those I trust far more than those I don’t.”

  His wife stepped forward, taking the limelight and her husband’s hand. Her laugh was bright after so much dark. “We all have secrets and histories, don’t we? If everyone spoke the truth, I’m sure we’d never leave the comfort of homes for fear of what could happen.”

  Elder chuckled under his breath, accepting her end to this strange corridor conversation. “You are right, Mrs Hawk. The world is infinitely dangerous.”

  The awkward tension faded as Jethro smiled easier and less complicated this time. “I almost forgot.” Untangling his fingers from his wife with a loving glance, he moved to an elaborate sideboard with hundreds of little drawers and scrollwork. Sitting on top was a brass candelabra holding at least thirty flickering candles.

  Pulling a key from his pocket, Jethro inserted it into one of the drawers and pulled it open. Palming whatever it was, he relocked the cupboard and turned to face Elder. “This is yours, I believe.”

  Elder cocked his head but accepted the long, narrow box. The deep blue velvet held a silver stitched diamond on the top—the logo of the Black Diamo
nds. Now I’d seen it, I recognised it from posters in jewellery shops around London. I’d even seen it advertised in train stations with dripping diamonds billboards and their simple but powerful logo in the corner.

  My eyes strayed to Mrs Hawk’s choker; memories flooded me.

  I’d seen that necklace before—or at least a replica of it on a billboard in the Pimlico subway station. A magazine had released an article about some fantastical rumour that an heiress to a family fortune in textiles had been kidnapped and held captive to serve debts to her kidnapper’s family.

  Was that what people were hinting at in the ballroom? Trying to pry into this couple’s private world? No wonder they weren’t at ease in crowds if they’d been plagued by such gossip.

  “Thank you, Mr. Hawk.” Elder tucked the box inside his tux breast pocket. “I appreciate the fast turnaround.”

  “Please, as I said, call me Jethro. And you’re welcome.” Glancing at me, he smiled sharply. “I see why you wanted it made so quickly.”

  Elder frowned. “Yes...well.” He searched for a change of subject. “We’ve taken up enough of your time as it is.” Cupping my elbow, he tilted his head. “We’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your party.”

  “Before you go—” Jethro extended his hand down the corridor. “I wouldn’t mind discussing a few things about potentially purchasing a yacht from you. Do you mind? I believe Sullivan Sinclair wanted to meet you, too.”

  Elder looked at me reluctantly.

  My eyes strayed to the box now hidden in his tux jacket. I wanted to ask what the hell it was, but I held my tongue. Things had happened in the space of a few moments that successfully made me wonder where I stood with him and what it all meant.

  Elder’s forehead furrowed, his eyes darkening with frustration. He’d accepted this invitation for business. And business was calling him away. “Will you be okay if I leave you alone for a little while?”

  I beamed, doing my hardest to seem like a normal woman who didn’t care in the slightest at being left alone with total strangers. Just because I hadn’t seen evil in this resplendent manor or peered into the faces of masked guests with suspicion didn’t mean I was strong enough to be left surrounded by people I didn’t know.

  But I’d already been a terrible person tonight. I wouldn’t add more shame by guilting him into staying with me. Eventually, I had to face circumstances such as these, and tonight was as good as any. “Yes, of course.” Already I itched at the thought of being vulnerable to another attack, another strangling, another selling.

  That won’t happen.

  Because as much as I’d patched up holes with my mother, I wasn’t as naïve as I once was. I would listen to my instincts over her tutelage. I would kill before I willingly danced with another murderer.

  And besides, this was Elder’s business.

  Under no circumstance would I mess that up or be a weak invalid ruining his successes.

  “Go. Honestly, I’ll listen to the band until you come back.”

  Wrong. I’ll hide in a corner somewhere where my back and sides are protected, and I can see anyone who comes near me.

  Jethro shot me a curious glance, his nostrils flaring as if he could taste my lie.

  Elder pulled me close, whispering in my ear, “I know you’re lying, but I won’t diminish you by dragging you with me or calling for Selix to guard you. Instead, I’ll give you a task to keep your mind busy and idle hands occupied.”

  I gasped as his breath turned hot with command. “Steal me something, little mouse. We’re in the hall of diamonds, after all.”

  I jerked back, studying his black gaze. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Deadly.”

  Last time I stole, I ended up arrested.

  And that was from an aborted attempt on a wallet. What the hell was the penalty for stealing an expensive diamond from the very family who mined them? Maybe they’d cut off my hand if the rumours were true that they favoured medieval punishments for crimes?

  I didn’t know why but the thought made me laugh nervously, anxiety threading through me. I went to shake my head, to tell him there was no way in hell I would do what he asked. But Jethro cleared his throat, ending our staring war. “If you will, Mr. Prest.”

  Elder released me, a sly smile on his lips. “Do what I ask, Pim, and the item Mr. Hawk just gave me is yours.” He tapped his tux pocket. “You do want to know what’s inside that pretty box, don’t you?”

  Damn him.

  Before I could argue and reach into his pocket myself, he and Jethro turned on their heel and left.

  The moment the men disappeared around the corner, Mrs Hawk sighed sweetly. “I have to make sure my children aren’t up to something they shouldn’t be. Will you be okay? Feel free to explore wherever the doors are open.”

  I nodded, swallowing hard at the thought of being left alone in a giant place with so many nooks and crannies for crime and pockets of darkness for horror. “Thank you, Mrs Hawk.”

  She patted my hand on her way past. “Please, call me Nila.” Smiling with a touch of conspiring charm, she added, “By the way, you look exactly as I hoped someone as pretty as you would in that gown.”

  “Excuse me?” I smoothed the blue and red bruised bodice self-consciously.

  Nila sighed wistfully. “I designed that only a few months into my stay at Hawksridge. I stole it actually from an ancestor who sketched in the same journal given to me at the time.” Her gaze cleared. “I hope you like it. I find bruises rather beautiful...the range of colours fascinates me even though the pigmentation is the body’s way of healing from pain. Maybe that’s why I love them.”

  I didn’t know what to say. The women who’d dressed me at the hotel mentioned the creator of this dress would be here tonight. I’d planned on complimenting her on her attention to detail and foresight of fashion, but Nila shook her head and switched subjects as quickly as she’d started this one. “Whatever task your man just set for you? It’s worth doing. I love designing clothes and get a thrill seeing women wear my creations, but it’s nothing compared to the intensity of seeing a Hawk diamond find its forever home.”

  She lowered her voice as if the portraits of long dead relatives eavesdropped on us. “I’ve seen what your man requested Jethro to create. You’ll want to see it for yourself, so do whatever he asks. It’s worth it...trust me.”

  With that cryptic encouragement to rob her, she glided back into the ballroom and left me.

  Alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ______________________________

  Elder

  THE MEETING WITH Jethro Hawk didn’t last long.

  In an odd way, it seemed as though he was listening more to what I wasn’t saying than to what I was. As I listed statistics and figures of my yachts, the accolades we’d won, and designs we’d accomplished, he stood tapping his finger against his lips, making me feel like a goddamn zoo exhibit.

  By the time he nodded and admitted he was interested in a smaller size yacht for recreational fun rather than ocean travel, I was drained from doing my best to keep my mind on work and not on Pimlico.

  Every time I thought about her, the agony of how I’d treated her rose all over again, swiftly followed by the love she’d crippled me with.

  I’d apologised yet it wasn’t enough.

  I hadn’t earned a response.

  I hadn’t given her time to give me one.

  But I’d underestimated my need to have her accept my apology and absolve me of my sins.

  Fuck, I should never have left her.

  She’d zoned out in the corridor, but it was different from her other panic attacks. I was used to displays of physical terror—of holding her as she sucked in useless air and seeking out the monstrous beings who threatened her.

  This time the enemy she fought was one I didn’t understand. She hurt because of something unknown. Something I couldn’t see or hear or touch.

  I need to know what it is.

  I needed to
tell her to stop lying to me.

  More time passed as I listed the smaller vessels available instead of the five-hundred-million price tagged thirty-room extravaganzas, and Jethro chose a few blueprint examples from the photos on my phone for a mock-up.

  He excused himself once we’d arranged to discuss his requirements via email.

  The moment he slipped from the meeting under the guise of finding his wife and children, I tapped the box burning a hole over my heart and stalked to the door myself.

  I hadn’t opened the gift.

  I didn’t want to. It was made for Pim, and it was only right she was the first to see it.

  This meeting had been twenty minutes too long, but now I was free and had every intention of finding her. She’d be fucking terrified after what’d happened the last time she was at a large function.

  Why the hell did I leave her and what the fuck possessed me to ask her to steal again?

  I’d had no intention of doing such a thing. She’d ended up in prison, for Christ’s sake. Her name had been entered into their database and her file found by whoever was hunting girls from the QMB.

  She’d become known by people I wanted to hide her from.

  And it was my fault for ever introducing her to the idea of thievery.

  Goddammit, you idiot.

  The moment I found her, we’d leave. I’d tell her to ignore any future idiocies of stealing on my behalf and ban her from ever taking what wasn’t hers again—not just to save her karma and reduce any chance of her being jailed again but because she had no reason to steal.

  I would provide for her.

  I would be proud to care for her in every way she needed.

  If she’ll let me.

  The only thing she needed to steal was my apology. And then, once I knew she’d forgiven me, we could both move on and decide where to sail from here.

  Africa, America, China? Where would be safe and where was the best place to wage war on the Chinmoku?

  As I swept from the small morning room where Jethro and I had talked, I almost collided with another gentleman.

  He stuck out his hand, a flash of sharp white teeth threatening as well as respectful. “Mr. Prest, I presume?”