ROMAN: Fury of Her King (Kings of the Blood Book 2)

by Julia Mills

  “It is not that,” the General paused, unsure how to ask his next question without causing offense, then simply blurted out, “how are we not kin of those of the Underworld?”

  “Your confusion is understandable but unfounded. Have you not listened to what I have said? Your existence and mine are blessed by Zeus, the God of the Sky and Ruler of the Olympian gods, and only he has the ability to take it from us. Our mission is just, our lives a gift. Nothing nefarious will come from us or of us. Do you understand, Romanus…truly comprehend?”

  The General thought for several moments. He looked inside himself and found nothing evil; no demon or specter threatening his mind or heart. It was as it had always been but with the addition of a growing strength and a feeling of purpose that outweighed the convictions of his past.

  Looking back to Viktoras, he smiled and nodded, “Yes, Commander. I understand.”

  Patting him on the shoulder, Viktoras turned back towards their tent and went on, “It is paramount that you know that the only way your life may become forfeit is if you allow someone to take your head or are stuck down by Zeus’ lightning.”

  Romanus nodded, raising his hand to brow at the Commander’s warning then chuckling when he thought that not even those who had betrayed him had been able to remove his head. “I understand,” he murmured.

  Viktoras continued, “Lastly, you will have a mate, your fýlakas tis kardiás mou, the keeper of your heart. The one woman in all the world who can save your doomed soul and breathe life into your dead heart. She will be the perfect complement to your darkness, a light that shines so brightly there are no shadows for you to use as cover. She will know your every weakness, share your every secret, and accept you for all that you are. This gift from the gods will be your only nourishment from the moment that she recognizes you as her one true mate.”

  “You will know the moment of her birth. There will be an awakening in the depths of your soul and you will feel the need to go to her, but you must wait. When the time is right and the gods deem that she is ready to accept you for who and what you are, she will come to you. You must indoctrinate her into our world and complete the mating ritual before nightfall of your three thousandth year or you will cease to exist. Without her and your commitment to one another, you will return to the ether from whence you came, ashes to ashes and dust to dust. You will enter the Elysian Fields and live a hero’s afterlife.”

  A knock at the library door drew Roman from his thoughts. Turning, he saw his long-time companion and assistant, Gregorio, who announced, “Dinner preparations are underway. Your clothes are laid out in your room and Laurent has pulled the car to the front in preparations to pick up Miss St. James.”

  “Thank you, Gregorio. Please tell Laurent to be sure to have the flowers in hand when he knocks on her door and that he is to leave in exactly twenty minutes.”

  “As you wish, sir. Anything else?”

  “Not right now. Thank you again, Gregorio”

  Following his assistant out of the study, Roman took the back stairs to his room to prepare for the most important date of his very long life. The warm water of the shower rushed over his skin as thoughts of Cynthia flooded his mind. Unable and unwilling to stop the smile that crossed his face, the king hummed a popular tune as he rinsed the shampoo from his hair. The words floated through his mind as an accompaniment to the images of the beautiful woman whom he would spend eternity loving…

  When your soul finds the soul it was waiting for. When someone walks into your heart through an open door. When your hand finds the hand it was meant it hold, don’t let go.

  “And now, that I have you, I have no intention of letting go. Cynthia St. James, you are mine, now and forever…

  Chapter Three

  “Good Lordy, woman, isn’t your closet empty yet?” Adele chuckled loudly from the living room as Cynthia stood before her full length mirror in the umpteenth outfit she’s tried on, still not happy with how she looked.

  Throwing her hands in the air, she sighed. “Oh, what the hell ever. This is as good as it gets. God knows there’s no bibbidi-bobbidi-boo going on around here tonight and I’m sure as hell not Cinderella.”

  “But you’re a close second,” Adele teased as she walked into the room and handed Cyn a glass of wine. “You look beautiful.”

  Cyn opened her mouth to argue but Adele held up her free hand and raised an eyebrow. “Stop right there. Face the facts. The man is gah-gah over you. You could show up in a gunny sack and he’d be salivatin’ like a dog with a bone.” She winked. “And, girlie, you look a damn sight better than a bone.”

  Looking back at her reflection as she took a sip of wine, Cyn had to admit she did look pretty good. Not super model good, but damn fine for judgement day, as her daddy used to say. Turning back to her friend, she laughed out loud as Adele snapped a picture with her cellphone and said, “Gotcha!”

  Shooing her from the room, Cyn was still chuckling when she said, “Okay, but no more pictures. You know I hate that. Now, I have to check my face and hair one more time. Make yourself useful and see if you can find my little black clutch in the hall closet, please.”

  “You got it,” Adele called over her shoulder as Cyn shut the door to her bedroom and took a deep breath.

  Looking out the window across the room, the half-moon shining brightly in a cloudless star-filled sky made her smile. It reminded her of her grandpa, a small town farmer and one of Cyn’s favorite people in the whole world. He had a saying for everything and even though they usually sounded like something he’d made up, they always ended up foretelling the future or uncovering a mystery of some sort.

  Of course, growing up smack in the middle of nowhere led to a lot of star gazing, so she’d paid special attention to all the ‘grandpaisms’ concerning the moon and stars. She fondly remembered their conversation about the half-moon.

  “Whatcha doing out here in the hayloft all by yourself, Cyndi girl? Mimi was alookin’ for ya’.”

  She quickly closed her journal and slid it under her leg as she heard the sole of grandpa Jim’s boots scrape against the rungs of the wooden ladder leading to the loft and the place she came to write down her thoughts and dream of the future. She knew it was him, more than their housekeeper, who wondered where she was.

  “Oh nuthin’ much. Just countin’ stars.”

  The long, lean man with his dirty John Deere hat, overalls, and ready smile, appeared over the stack of hay Cyn was leaning against and pulled up his own bale to sit on. Taking the toothpick from between his lips, he used it like a pointer and said, “You see that half-moon right there?” He looked over his shoulder at her and winked. “That moon means it’s time to shuffle the deck.”

  Putting the toothpick back in his mouth, Grandpa Jim looked back at the sky and continued, “That means this week we work with what we got. Clean things up, make them even better before the crescent of the waning moon and the darkest night of the month comes. You want to be able to enjoy the calm of the ending of one cycle and be refreshed for the beginning of another.” He adjusted the hat on his head until the bill almost completely covered his eyes, then leaned back against the pile of hay bales and grinned. “Your Great Grandma Cleo, my momma, always said to be ready for new beginnings cause they were fun but a lotta work.”

  “Boy, she was right, Grandpa,” Cyn mused as she made her way to the bathroom for her final hair and makeup check. For some reason, the feeling that tonight was going to be the start of big changes had been dogging her thoughts since Roman had demanded they have dinner.

  No sooner had she touched up her lip gloss than she heard a knock from the living room and Adele’s, “I’ll get it.”

  Opening her bedroom door, Cyn was shocked to see a tall, dark man complete with driving gloves and hat waiting by the front door holding the biggest bouquet of the most beautiful flowers she’d ever seen. He bowed his head as she nervously smiled in his direction then returned to imitating a palace guard by standing at attention and look
ing at nothing specific just by her door.

  Adele grabbed her by the arm and pushed her back in the bedroom, kicking the door shut as she went. “Oh my God, did you get a load of that shit out there? A chauffeur. Your man sent a mother humpin’ chauffeur to pick you up.” She waved her hands in the air and talked a hundred miles a minute. “Girl, there is a for real stretch limo parked outside your building. A chauffeur and a limo, who the hell would’ve ever guessed. I nearly peed myself when I looked out the window.”

  Cyn loved Adele like the sister she never had, but the woman was literally making her more nervous with every word that came out of her mouth. Sitting on the chair in the corner and ignoring her best friend’s ramblings, she took a deep breath, looked back out at that crazy half-moon hanging in the sky, and thought “Wonder what grandpa would do?”

  He would get off his butt and keep his commitment.

  Standing up and straightening the skirt on her little black dress, Cyn fluffed the bottom of her hair and snapped her fingers at Adele to get her attention. “Okay, crazy woman, get yourself together. We have to go back out there or old Jeeves is gonna think we’re a couple of weirdos.”

  With her hand on the doorknob she added, “Oh, and Roman is not ‘my man’.”

  Never one to be outdone, Adele quickly countered, “Ah, I beg to differ. He so is and Jeeves was the butler, James is always the chauffeur. You’re gonna be living uptown soon, sweetpea, ya’ gotta get these things right.”

  Holding in her laughter, Cynthia shook her head as she finished, opened the door, and walked out into the living room. Grabbing her clutch that Adele had loaded with her essentials, she kissed her best friend on the cheek before putting her wrap over her shoulders and walking towards the door.

  Roman’s chauffeur took off his hat this time, bowed at the waist, and presented her with the flowers he’d been holding since his arrival. “My name is Laurent. I will be your driver for the evening. These are from Mr. Marinos.” His voice was so deep and so heavily accented it took Cyn a minute to understand what he was saying, but in her usual fake-it-til-you-make-it way, she smiled and thanked him politely while inhaling the aroma of the beautiful blooms. She had no idea what kind of flowers they were, but it didn’t matter. They could’ve been dandelions. They were Roman and his thoughtfulness made her giddy.

  She handed her flowers to Adele, who immediately mock curtsied and giggled. “I’ll put them in some water, milady. You go have fun.”

  Shaking her head, Cynthia almost ran head first into the door Roman’s chauffeur had opened when she wasn’t looking. As she attempted to laugh off her embarrassment, she heard Adele snort behind her but noticed Laurent wasn’t at all affected by her faux pas.

  Guess he deals with us middle class Mollies all the time…

  Taking the bent arm he offered, Cyn walked down the stairs and out the door of her building, straight into the waiting stretch limo her bestie had been so enamored with. Climbing in as gracefully as possible, she jumped with surprise when Laurent reached in front of her, pressed a button, and out popped a mini bar complete with chilling champagne.

  “A small cocktail for your ride, Miss St. James?”

  “Oh,” she squeaked, then after clearing her throat continued. “Yes, that would be nice. Thank you.”

  Watching him expertly pour the bubbly liquid into what she knew without a doubt was Baccarat crystal, Cyn tried to act cool while the teenager inside her was squealing with delight. Silently handing her the flute, Laurent excused himself with a nod of his head and before she’d finished her first taste of the best champagne she’d ever had, they were on their way.

  Slowly sipping one of her favorite drinks and smiling as the bubbles tickled her nose, Cyn watched the sites change from the busy streets of the city to the silent, peaceful scenes of the country. She knew Roman’s estate was almost an hour from her office. Had seen a magazine spread with pictures of his home, stables, tennis courts, an eight-hole golf course for his private use, and absolutely breathtaking gardens.

  Relaxing back into the seat, Cyn yawned then shook herself to keep from doing it again. “Oh wow, guess I should’ve taken a nap instead of playing dress-up Barbie all afternoon,” she giggled to herself. “Either that or have eaten more than a cracker or two on the run.” Looking at the glass in her hand, she went on, “This champagne is good but I better stop at one…and stop talking to myself.”

  It took two tries to get the flute into its holder in the limo mini bar, which tickled Cyn so much that she jumped when the window separating her from Laurent went down and he asked, “Everything all right, Miss St. James.”

  “Yes,” she hiccupped, quickly covering her mouth before barely getting out, “thank you.”

  What is wrong with me? I sound drunk. Lightweight…

  Shaking her head and patting her cheeks, Cyn took several deep breaths and sat up straight, but it wasn’t long before she was once again yawning and snuggling back into the overstuffed leather seats. Looking out the window, she quickly realized it was hard to focus and the passing scenery seemed to be underwater.

  What the hell?

  No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than she felt the car slowing down. Glancing at her watch but unable to make out the blurry numbers, Cyn thought back to leaving her condo and knew there was no way they had been traveling long enough to have reached Roman’s. Also, from the directions she’d looked up right after he’d asked her to dinner, she knew it was a straight shot from her front door to his with the only turn being when they reached his front gate.

  Knocking on the window, she called out, “Laurent, is something wrong?”

  The limo coming to a complete stop was the only answer she received. Grabbing the door handle, she gritted her teeth and growled when her attempts to open the door were thwarted by the locks. Jumping to the seat across from her, her adrenalin pushing away the vestiges of sleep that just seconds ago had fogged her mind, she pounded on both the window at her side and the one now behind her head while yelling, “What the hell is going on? Laurent? LAURENT!”

  No sooner were the words out of her mouth than the locks on the doors popped open, the door beside her flung open, and a tall, thin Morticia Addams lookalike climbed in the seat across from her. Taking in the sight before her, Cyn wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be scared or amused but was sure that pissed off had bypassed both.

  Opening her mouth to speak, Morticia beat her to the punch with a question of her own, “So you are who he prefers to me?” Tsking and tapping the tip of her pointy red nail against her chin, the woman added, “There is just no accounting for taste.”

  Cyn immediately recognized the woman’s accent as being similar to Laurent’s but much less pronounced. It was obvious they were in on whatever was going on together, now all she had to do was figure out what that was before things got out of hand.

  Going for the calm, cool, collected approach, although her heart was wildly trying to escape through her throat, Cyn stuck out her hand, smiled, and said “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure. My name is Cynth…”

  Waving her long thin fingers at Cyn’s outstretched hand while curling her heavily made up nose with disgust ‘Morticia’ pooed, “Cynthia St. James, yes, yes, I know very well who you are.”

  Pulling back her hand and rolling her eyes, Cyn’s mouth engaged before her brain and she scoffed, “Well, I don’t know you, lady.”

  Curling her darkly painted red lips into a sinister smile, the woman leaned forward and cooed, “Oh, darling, you are so right. You do not know me. Neither do you know what I am capable of.”

  Tired of all the theatrics, Cyn shook her head, scooted to the edge of the seat, and sighed. “Can we just cut the crap? I’m no one important.” Motioning all around her, she went on, “This isn’t even my limo. I was on the way to have dinner and this is my date’s car, so if this is a ransom or whatever, honey, you are trying to pick the wrong pocket.”

  Throwing back her head and ca
ckling like a loon, ‘Morticia’ laid her hand to her chest and took a long dramatic breath before chuckling. “My dear, you are far more valuable than you realize for reasons you cannot fathom. Not only are you part of the catch, but also the bait.”

  “Bait?” Cynthia asked a split second before a huge arm came from the window behind her and wrapped around her neck. Struggling against confinement, she felt the prick of a needle under her ear as the woman across from her nodded and said, “Yes, bait for a much bigger, more important fish.”

  Cyn’s vision immediately blurred as she was released from the choke hold and slid down the seat in a less than glamorous slump. Every one of her muscles, including those in her mouth, refused to respond as she fought to remain conscious.

  Her vision narrowed. Her mind became a muddled mess of anger, fear, and confusion. Clumsily reaching for her purse, which contained her cellphone and mace, Cyn fell back against the seat with a sad sigh. Whatever drug had been injected into her system was fast acting and stronger than an ox.

  Groaning when ‘Morticia’ pushed her purse to floor and closed the distance between them, Cyn cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak. Frustration caused her clenched hands to shake in her lap when she could only whisper, “Why?” while blinking her eyes and attempting to chase away the shadows. She wanted more than anything to regain just a bit of focus, but nothing helped. Her hostess’s drawn features were wavy and out of focus when the bitch shook her head and chuckled sarcastically while taking Cyn’s chin between her bony fingers and whispering, “You let me worry about why. All you need to remember is my name is Valentina…and Roman Marinos is mine.”

  Well damn…

  Chapter Four

  “Waking up chained to a bed after being kidnapped on the way to a dinner date sure looks sexier when Charlise Theron does it on the big screen,” Cyn complained to herself, huffing her bangs out of her face and turning her head as far as she could to see if she was alone.