Bloody Ties

by Claire Marta

  Phillip

  We find Ava in the music room with the two Chevaliers. Can’t say my brother doesn’t go all out. This house is impressive, even though until recently, no one spent any time here.

  “We need to speak to the princess.” I say.

  The one who isn’t Magar scoots closer to her on the piano bench. “Oh please, she’s practically our sister, we won’t hurt her.” Sheila snaps.

  “You say that now, but it seems you have something out for the Chevaliers.” Magar hisses.

  My wife rolls her eyes and flicks her hair over her shoulder. “Please, I may be a bit bloodthirsty, but I don’t hurt those who don’t deserve it.”

  “We just need to speak with her, don’t forget who’s house you are in.” I warn.

  “You can speak to me with them around.” Ava meekly says.

  Sheila and I share a glance and I nod.

  She huffs and sits in one of the chairs closest to the piano. “You want to be difficult, fine. I have no problem with laying it all out there.

  Let me guess, you’re scared Damien won’t care about you as more than just a hole to fill, correct?

  Let me tell you something, darling, you’re lucky. Not many of us women get good guys who wouldn’t dare to rape us.”

  Ava flinches at the word ‘rape’. If I thought I could I’d say something to try to get Sheila to be a little more sensitive. But that’s just not my wife.

  “Damien will care about you as much as he can. But that doesn’t mean he won’t kill you if he has probable cause. Hell, none of us our safe from death. We’re a family sure, we care about each other, yes, but we’re also ruthless. I wouldn’t have any problem killing any of my brothers if need be to keep myself and my husband safe.

  Honestly? I’d kill my husband if I absolutely had to.”

  I flinch because I know she’s telling the truth. It would hurt her. But she’d do it. And I would do the same.

  “It would be easier if you mated with Damien and allowed my brother to take over your coven. The other choice is to not mate with him. If the latter happens you will die. Truthfully I would hate to see that happen. We’ve wasted too much time and energy keeping you alive to kill you simply because you were too weak to do what you know is right.”

  With that Sheila stands. “You should let Oscar do therapy with you. Believe me, it’s freeing. He’s an asshole, but all the brothers are. It’s what makes them the best at what they do.”

  My wife grabs my hand and leads me from the room. I know it took a lot out of her to say that. She doesn’t open up to people often, but this was something she felt she had to do. After all it’s something she had to consider before she married me years ago.

  We manage to avoid anyone else on our way back upstairs. Locking the door to our bedroom I pull my wife close to me.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “I will be when Lucas fucking Chevalier is dead.” She says.

  Twisting one hand in her hair I pull her head back to look into those glacial eyes. “You will get your chance. Damien promised that. Our brother doesn’t break those types of promises.”

  “I know. I would really hate to see the princess die because she let those bastards into her head. She will make a great partner for Damien. Even if neither of them see it.”

  “She’s weak.”

  “She’s not. She survived everything that Carr fucker threw at her, and then some. She just needs to get her head on straight, something a few sessions with Oscar should be able to help. The fucker is surprisingly good at playing shrink.”

  “Did he know about Mathew?”

  “Yes. He sort of guessed a few years ago. I didn’t tell him everything though. Just enough that he knew there was someone else.”

  My heart clenches at the thought.

  “I love you, Phillip. I have for over two decades now and I’ll love you for years to come.”

  I don’t respond. Instead I kiss her. She responds immediately and I groan. Through all the shit we’ve had to deal with this past month we haven’t had any time for ourselves. I miss my wife.

  In one easy swoop I pick her up, tear her pants and then toss her onto the bed. “You asshole.” She laughs.

  So young and carefree. This is a side of her no one but me ever gets to see.

  “I’m not fucking you.”

  “Why?”

  “Maybe because my brothers are standing just outside? Or the fact that we have too much work to do.”

  “I’m sure Damien will understand we had to relieve some tension.” I lean over her on the bed. My hand run up her smooth thigh.

  “Nice try.” She rolls to the side and stands. “You owe me a pair of pants.” She says, stepping out of the ruined ones and rummaging through a drawer. “We need to go shopping anyway. I don’t have shit here.”

  “What are you planning?” I ask as she dons a new pair of pants and then straps on a sheath for her knives.

  “I need to have a little talk with Argo. I also need to tell my brothers not to say anything to our father. The last thing we need is him coming up here starting trouble because Argo kept something this important from me.”

  I close my eyes and try to force my jealousy away. It’s ridiculous I know, but she’s my fucking wife. The thought of her with someone else. It hurts. A lot.

  To think her family met Mathew and accepted him enough to—not allow her to marry, Sheila does what she wants—but to call him family, hurts. To know one of the oldest of our kind knew and accepted him to be with the woman he sees as a daughter. When it took months for the Bensons to trust me thanks to who my father is, it fucking kills me inside.

  My brothers would never let me live this down if they knew my thoughts, but they’ve never been in love. And maybe we have more important things to do, but that doesn’t stop my irrational thinking.

  “Look at me,” Sheila says softly. Her tone is kind, I’m the only one allowed to hear it. “Yes I loved him, but I think I would have loved you more. If I came across you after marrying him. I don’t believe in fate or any of that bullshit, but I do believe in love. Seems ridiculous coming from me, but everyone has to believe in something, right?”

  “Right.”

  She kisses me. “Let’s go. I won’t screw up this alliance. I know how important it is. However, I won’t hold back either.”

  “I understand. So does Damien.”

  “Good.”

  In the sitting room we find, Vega, Rodriguez, Argo, and Dominic.

  When Argo sees Sheila he doesn’t say anything. She walks right up to him and slaps him. No one else in the world would dare to do that. Nor would they dare to say what she does: “If you ever keep something like this from me again I will cut your limbs from your body and then beat you with them.”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t protecting Lucas. But the other families under their rule. I don’t think their heir will have a problem with what you have to do. After all politics is politics.”

  “And just who is the heir?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Argo was just doing what he had to do to protect, not only the families under the Chevalier rule, but his own as well.” Dominic speaks up. “Anyone here would do that same thing. It’s our job to protect those who live under us. Sometimes that means doing things we rather not.”

  “I don’t have a problem with anyone in this room. Don’t get in my way when I kill Lucas Chevalier, stand by my family when we engage in a war with the two bastards who are ruining this state, and we will stand by you for life.”

  “Done.” All four men agree.

  With a nod Sheila returns to my side. “Tell Malcolm the same. I don’t have time to repeat myself.

  Also, tell the princess that she shouldn’t trust the Chevaliers. Don’t try to argue how good they are either. Anyone who puts our allies in danger to hide themselves is a fucking coward and hiding something dangerous. And it’s not just their abilities I’m talking
about.”

  “You’re not saying anything we haven’t suspected,” Argo assures. “It just wasn’t our place.”

  “No. But my family doesn’t have the same ties.” Sheila has a glint in her eye that tells me a call to her father will be placed sooner rather than later.

  And that’s scary as fuck to think about.

  The Benson family is not who you want digging into your past. Because if they find something—heads will roll.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Ava

  “YOU SHOULD MARRY DAMIEN.”

  Turning to face Magar I lower the blood bag I’ve just finished drinking from my mouth. Although we are running low I have been allowed to indulge my craving. I’m so hungry all the time, it’s as if I can’t stop making up for the weeks of starvation.

  We are a day away from the coven meeting and I want to be at my strongest.

  “I thought that was my decision.”

  “It is.”He says, gracefully perching on the end of the bed. “As Grey told you before if you really want to walk away we have the means to make you disappear. We won’t let them kill you. No one will find you.

  It would be a clean break. A new life and identity.

  If you marry into the Rochesters though New York will be stable. Two covens merging to become one. It will save more lives and protect all the families which rely on them.”

  “That’s only if we can get rid of my father and theirs.” I reply. My stomach rolls just at thought of confronting my father and Ivan again.

  They plague my nightmares. The last few nights I’ve woken screaming.

  “Jonathan Carr and Lucius want Damien dead. No one can foresee how this will end or the casualties that will result because of it.

  If they manage to wipe each other out completely that would leave you ruling New York if you are mated into the family.”

  I can’t stop my sharp intake of breath. “Are you...”

  “No, we have no plans to take out Damien and his siblings. We respect his values and would rather have them as allies. All I am doing is pointing out a possible outcome.” He tells me quietly.

  Silently I absorb Magar’s point of view.

  Imagining ruling over New York alone doesn’t make me happy.

  As Kylie had told me before she’d died I’m not strong enough to do something like that alone. I would never survive.

  The thought of Damien dead also upsets me.

  “Ava, they need to strengthen their hold on their territory. It’s politics. They can’t afford to have three covens trying to destroy them if they make an enemy of us. They are arrogant, but they aren’t stupid.”

  “I know.” Which is the reason I know in my heart that this would never end well if I decided to leave.

  Collecting the empty blood bag from my hands Magar discards it in the bin.

  “I have a meeting with someone on the intel we have collected. We have moles in both Jonathan Carr’s camp as well as Lucius’s. We need to see what their planning. Grey is remaining here if you should need him.”

  I don’t reply instead I slip from the bed, tightening my robe around me. Moving to the wardrobe I paw through the clothes someone bought me. Everything I need is here. Someone has gone out of their way to make me feel comfortable.

  The soft click of the door hails Magar’s exit.

  Everyone is using me for their own agenda. I’m not so blind as not to see it. Magar might care about me, but I’ve already worked out I am being used in some kind of game.

  It’s not just the warnings from Dominic and Argo. I’ve lived with Jonathan Carr all my life and know when someone is being manipulative.

  Whatever decisions I make will be my own. I refuse to be anyone else’s puppet. Not the Rochesters or the Chevaliers.

  Selecting a pretty blouse in white and a pair of jeans I quickly get dressed. Oscar is due to stop by. I’ve agreed to his therapy although I am not sure how far it’s going to help.

  He’s not soft.

  None of the Rochesters are and what I need right now is a little warmth.

  Damien has been checking up on me, refusing to leave me completely alone.

  I know he’s been having me watched. Maybe he thinks I will do something stupid or break down further than I already have, if that’s even possible. Or he just doesn’t trust me with the Chevaliers.

  Dizziness hits me hard out of nowhere.

  The flashback of large hands holding me down follows.

  A body crushing my own as Ivan’s cock thrust violently in and out.

  Fingers bruising my skin as his bite marks burn like brands on my thighs, arse and shoulders.

  The recollection of his musky smell sends the blood I have ingested rising from my stomach.

  Barely making it to the bathroom in time, I drop to my knees, vomiting violently into the toilet. Spasm after spasm tightens through me until I am done.

  Sobbing, I curl onto my side on the floor as the memories fade.

  “Princess?”

  Oscar’s voice penetrates my misery.

  Opening eyes still shimmering with tears I see his grim figure standing in the doorway.

  “I had a flashback.” I admit still clutching my stomach.

  His expression hardens. “Those fuckers will die, but I knowing continuously telling you that won’t help with your state of mind right now. Are they all this bad? That they make you sick?”

  “No.” I admit pushing a mess of black hair from my face. “Just sometimes I throw up with them...when it gets too much.”

  I know that’s a lie.

  The sickness has happened a few times without memories of what Ivan did to me. It frightens me. Right now I don’t want to think about what it could mean. I have enough to cope with without something else to add to everything. Although if what I suspected is true I won’t be able to ignore it forever.

  Damien

  “Easy, brother.” Sheila tells me. “Oscar knows what he’s doing.”

  “I trust him. It’s her I don’t trust.” I reply. “She’s stronger now than she ever has been before. She’s also very weak. Oscar may not have a kind bone in his body, but he’s a sucker for a woman in need.”

  “He’s not going to fall into any traps. He knows better. Plus out of all of us I think he hates her the most.”

  “You’re right about that.” Oscar’s voice has me spinning to the open library door. His dark hair is disheveled, dress shirt wrinkled.

  “I see it went well,” I deadpan.

  “It actually went very well, fuck you very much.” Oscar collapses onto one of the leather club chairs and Sheila hands him a tumbler full of whiskey. “She won’t go insane. Or break. Or anything else we were worried about. She’s strong. She just needs a little bit longer to process it.

  She doesn’t trust us for shit. Which I don’t blame her, I wouldn’t trust us either. She hates Sheila. But then, who doesn’t.”

  There’s a hesitation in his voice. As if he’s weighing something in his mind.

  “What?” I snap.

  “I saw something I don’t think I was supposed to.”

  “And?”

  “And when I’m playing therapist I don’t pry on things my patients don’t want to tell me. It’s common courtesy.”

  “Since when did you care about common courtesy?”

  “Since I’m the one who worked my ass off for years to not only learn the inner workings of the human psyche but body as well. I’ve learned to respect those who come to me in confidence.”

  I snort but don’t push the issue. If it were serious he’d speak up. But the way he’s looking at me and seeming to turn this over makes me wonder.

  If I didn’t respect my siblings privacy I’d already know, but I would never do that to them unless I had a reason to.

  “Good. Are you prepared for Lucas’s visit?”

  “As prepared as I can be. Magar and Grey have been very hush hush on the whole thing. And Dominic, Malcolm, and Argo seem to be as in the dark as
we are about what is really going on.”

  “Sheila?”

  “Yes, brother. I know. Stay out of sight. Let the princess have her little reunion. Pray she gets more out of him and then I can kill him.”

  “The princess thinks we’re just using her. That may have been the case in the beginning. But now we have ties to her. We’re protecting her. We are willing to go to fucking war for her. She must not believe that we are after anything.

  Whatever she gets from Lucas, it has to be organic. Understood?”

  “Perfectly,” she grumbles.

  “Don’t worry, we have measures in place to watch them. Lucas’s mind may be inaccessible to us for the time being, but the princess’s is not.” I reassure her. “You will get your revenge, sister. We just need to show the princess that we’re not the bad guys here.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Damien

  THE LIBRARY IS THE ONLY PLACE big enough to hold this meeting. My brothers and I are wearing earpieces, so Sheila can easily hear us from upstairs.

  I’m sitting behind the large desk, my brothers flanking me. I hate it. It makes it look like I think they’re beneath me, which couldn’t be further from the truth. Some days they’re above me.

  Without my family I wouldn’t be here.

  Magar, Grey, Dominic, Malcolm, and Argo sit in chairs scattered around the room.

  We decided it would be best if Vega and Rodriguez sat this meeting out.

  One of our men, Anthony, has Ava in a different room. She’ll be brought in at an appropriate time. She’s also wearing an earpiece so she knows what’s going on. The Chevaliers don’t know that, however.

  The door to the library opens and in walks one of our men, at this point I don’t know whose man is whose. They’re all doing the same job, all report to Phillip. We all have the same goal.

  He’s leading a tall man with dark tawny hair and undeniable amber eyes toward me. His face, while handsome has something off about it. Not the same level of coldness you’d see in the face of Lucius or Jonathan Carr. But harsh, unfeeling. He looks like a man who would kill his twin for shits and giggles. Especially if he gets a coven out of it.

  Standing I do the amicable thing, I hold my hand out to him. “Damien Rochester at your service.”