Heretic: The Clans Book Ten

by Knox, Elizabeth

  “All I ever wanted was for you to be safe and taken care of, Elena. I don’t understand why you hold such hatred for me or why you took it out on this poor man. He was a good Christian man, willing to take care of you the rest of your life. He did not deserve this.”

  “So you’re going to deny the fact that you are trying to marry me off to a man that doesn’t even like women? He was gay. I know you’re not that blind. You tried sentencing me to a life of misery. To a life in a marriage without love. There wouldn’t even have been any attraction.”

  I turn to look at Stefan who is now clapping his hands as if this is the most entertaining show he’s ever seen. What is it about this man? I have heard many things. You don’t have to be in with the Clans to know about Stefan Dalca and his antics.

  If there is trouble, he is always a part of it, either because he inserts himself or because he is the one causing it. So, I guess it probably is pretty entertaining for him. “This has all suddenly become so interesting; the only problem is that now there’s not going to be a wedding. The thing is, I put on one of my nicest suits so I could be here and bear witness to this union. No way did I do that for nothing. I mean, look at me. What a waste.”

  “Is every man in the damn Clans fucking gay?” I ask in anger, my face probably red with it. I let my hair down the rest of the way, getting ready to leave. I kick off my damn heels and go to walk down the aisle, only to be accosted by Luca, the twin brother.

  He grabs me by the wrist at first, and I go to pull away, but when he gets me turned around, his hands go around my throat.

  I’m gasping for air, and nobody comes to my aid.

  My father is screaming and crying in the corner now, and Stefan is just watching the show along with Annamaria, who is probably still in shock at the fact that I just killed one of her brothers.

  This is going to go down in history one way or the other, but I’m not going down without a fight. I just earned my freedom by killing a man. I intend to keep it.

  I kick. I scream. I fucking claw at him. But none of it does any good as he chokes me harder. And no amount of injuries seem to deter him like he is one sick fuck getting off on it, or maybe a fucking robot.

  He brings his teeth right to my ear, nipping at it, and then he informs me, “Oh, there will be a wedding. You’ll be marrying me tonight. You see, now that my idiot brother is dead, the resident pussy himself, I’m the Clan leader for the Ungurs. And so, you are now betrothed to me. That’s what the contract is for, and you’ll see here,” from his Armani suit pocket, this one navy and black instead of the charcoal of Isaac’s, he pulls out a slip of paper. On it, I see that it is a marriage certificate with two names. Those names are Elena and Luca.

  “It’s already legal anyway. But I think we owe at least Stefan a ceremony.”

  How is this even fucking possible? How would he know that I would kill his brother? It’s not like I told anybody. Was he planning on doing this all along?

  This whole family is sick.

  “Old man, Pavel!” Luca calls, forcing my father out of the corner. He looks like he could have a coronary at any moment, or just drop dead from the shock. “Unless you want your daughter to die here and now, you’re going to marry us. Let’s get this show on the road so I can take my wife home, thanks.”

  With a shaky voice, as I’m pulled back up to the makeshift altar, my father finishes up the ceremony. The vows are rushed, and my arm and neck are bruised from where I am being held in place. I keep looking for a way out, but all I see is Stefan still sitting back and relaxing in one of the lounge seats, watching the show. If there was popcorn available, he would be in it already.

  There is no one here that’s going to help me, not even my own father, and that makes me just completely sick.

  Once the ‘I do’s’ are said, Luca yanks me to him, his lips crushing against mine forcefully, and then comes something I don’t expect. He pulls a rag from his pocket that smells of this stomach churning sweetness, putting it over my mouth and nose. I know what’s happening to me just before everything starts to go black.

  With no more strength to fight him off, I fall to the ground, and the last thing I remember is my hands being tied behind me.

  Chapter Six

  Luca

  The helicopter lands on the Ungur estate, and I have yet to process how I feel about the fact that I’m coming back here alone. My parents have long moved on into retirement to their own place. Downsizing and all that people do in old age.

  So, the sprawling estate was left to Isaac and myself as well as Annamaria, though she no longer stays here either. She got sick of our antics over a year ago and went to live with her best friend closer to Madrid. Now, it will just be me and all the servants in this place. And Elena, of course; my new wife.

  Once the whooping of the propeller stops and my ears adjust, I step out of the helicopter, Elena thrown over my shoulder to carry her inside. She is still out from the chloroform I gave her, and luckily, this was a quick flight. However, I know when I get inside if the room isn’t ready I’m going to have to get more chloroform and do it over again because she’s starting to stir.

  She is by no means conscious, but she is beginning to twitch and move around. There’s a good chance when she awakes, she’ll be sick; I want everything to be settled and perfect before that happens so that I can take care of her. The first night of a newly married couples’ life is a special one, and this should be no different. It just won’t be traditional.

  Not by a long shot.

  I walk onto the estate, glad, not for the first time, that it is completely secluded. Backing up against a private beach, sprawling, with several acres, and made private by the many palm trees surrounding it, this estate is practically a fortress. And now it is all mine. No one to share it with. And it doesn’t make me sad. But then again not much of anything makes me sad anymore.

  I am immediately greeted at the front door by Migual, my personal servant. He understands all of my moods and the flavors of my requests. I don’t trust anyone but him, and the first thing I plan on doing after Elena is settled into her new home is to fire everyone except for those that I absolutely need and trust.

  Isaac had a huge staff. It was all for show, and I don’t want any of them here. I don’t need them. I can make do with two maids, a good chef, and Migual. That’s all we will need.

  I won’t need to be showy considering I’m not the kind of Clan leader who’s going to have people here all the time. And the people that I do have here, well, they’re not exactly going to care about how many servants I have. Their tastes are a little bit… unique.

  “Another girl, sir?” Migual asks me, and I nod.

  “Yes, but this one is different. We’re actually married. And just so you know, Isaac will not be returning.”

  “Oh? Where will Isaac be?”

  “Six feet under.” That’s all I need to say for him to understand. It’s for this reason he’s worked with me for so long and survived it. Migual is younger than the rest of my staff, but we’ve known one another for quite a while. Most wouldn’t be trusting of someone this young, but he’s proven his trust to me. And the injury that he bears proves to me more than anything else that he will always remain loyal and not ask any hard questions. “Is the oubliette prepared?” I question him, cursing myself for not calling ahead. But I had other things on my mind, like getting out of there with my new wife before somebody stopped me.

  With Stefan, there is no knowing what he would do. He always does what no one expects, which could be dangerous. He’s basically the Jack Sparrow of the fucking Clans.

  “I will go get the room prepared, if I may have 5 to 10 minutes, sir?” Migual really is the best servant I could ask for, and it would be a shame if I ever lost my temper with him again and end up killing him instead of just slicing off a finger. I really don’t know what I would do without him.

  “Yes, that is sufficient.”

  I take Elena into the parlor, and I lay her dow
n on the couch. I can see that she is beginning to blink her eyes open. I’m going to have to get her back out fast before she pukes all over the furniture and tries to fight me again. There will be none of that. She is going to learn the rules first before she gets any kind of freedom around here, if she ever does.

  I go into the kitchen and locate exactly what I’m looking for. I don’t hide the lifestyle that I lead, I didn’t even hide it from my brother. Though, most of the things I do are kept to the basement, namely the oubliette, as I like to call it. I know that I’m Spanish, but the French word has a ring to it that nothing else does.

  Pulling the cloth I had before back out from my tux, I soak it in chloroform once more and take it back over to where Elena is slumped against the couch. I put the rag to her mouth and cover her nose as well, allowing her to breathe it in over and over again, counting to a hundred and 20 seconds. That should be enough.

  It usually is.

  I look her over and notice how innocent she looks, laying here like this. It’s easy to forget that she just drove a hairpin straight through my brother’s eye and into his brain, killing him almost instantly. And on their wedding night, no less. Not that she didn’t truly do me a favor in that, but that doesn’t mean that her behavior will be warranted in my house.

  Now, I get the feeling that she’s going to be hard to contend with. The kind of woman that I’m going to have to train from the beginning. She’s going to have to learn her place here. And her place among the Clans, if this is ever going to work. Because I intend to have it all, no matter what the king and queen think about this new development. Otherwise, I will be forced to do something drastic.

  Nothing I haven’t done before, but I would rather not admit failure again.

  Migual reenters the room to let me know that the oubliette is ready. I feel a buzz of excitement going through my body as I pick her up over my shoulder again.

  As I make my way to the back of the house then to my bedroom where the secret door descending into the basement is located, I change my mind and switch positions, cradling her.

  The thing is, this is our wedding night, whether either of us likes this or not, and she deserves for some of this to be done the right way.

  Especially if she is going to be as useful as I hope.

  Even if she doesn’t remember it, I will, and one day, I’ll be able to tell her that I did carry her into her new bed this way.

  Now down the stairs, I enter the 12 x 12 cage and lay her down on the bed, one that you would never know has been used before. At least, it has been a while, anyway.

  When she is laid down, I place her in the most peaceful position I can find for her and then sit down next to her, crossing one ankle over the other.

  I allow myself to notice her body the way that I did when I first saw her at the celebration for Philippe and Carla’s union. My eyes rake over her, noticing all her curves, completely natural by the way, and how her cleavage is just as perfect as it was before. She must have a thing for that.

  Her legs are not too thin and not too thick. The only thing about her that I find that is imperfect is her hair. I typically like blondes, but her hair is the exact opposite, almost a black it is so brown. And it falls down in ringlets all around her almost like a veil.

  I take my time, running my hands over her body and feeling every nook and cranny slowly, glad to get this time to do this when she isn’t awake.

  I want to know things. I need to know things.

  I don’t know how long it is before she starts to stir, and I can see she is going to wake up this time. That’s fine, because at least we’re in her bed now. When her body starts to shiver, her teeth chattering, I know she’s having a bad reaction to all the chloroform. Nothing I haven’t seen before.

  I pull the two blankets that are on the bed over her body and tuck her in just a little bit as if I’m her parent and not her husband.

  “My… My head…” She groans, half-asleep and half awake. So, the shakes and the migraine. Not surprising considering I had to chloroform her twice.

  I leave only for a few minutes, going back into my bedroom, to my en suite, in order to get some medications and a glass of water. When I get back down, she continues to groan and moan her distaste for how she feels, but most of it is inaudible. I return to my place by her side, and I tilt her head back, opening her mouth and placing the glass of water to her lips at the same time that I pop two pain pills in her mouth. Luckily, I don’t have to coax her to swallow, and she is able to do it even in the state she’s in.

  Now, being more awake, Elena’s eyes flutter open and look at me. Her hands go against her stomach, rubbing it, and she looks at me in misery. “I feel so nauseous. Why do I feel so nauseous? I don’t want to throw up on the bed.” So, she seems to know she’s on the bed at least.

  I wonder how it’s all going to play out when she realizes she’s in a cage.

  I slip a dissolvable tablet onto her tongue for the nausea and then place the water into her hands. I begin to use my fingers to comb through her long hair, getting rid of all the tangles and getting it out of her face. Just in case.

  I enjoy this more than anything. Taking care of her. It’s just as if I’m taking care of a little doll. I get to pose her, to care for her hair, and to make sure she’s well. And right now, at least she doesn’t fight me. That’s more than I can say with anyone thus far, though I’m sure she’ll have some fight in her when she wakes up.

  “What the fuck is going on?” she says, scooting away from me. But she can’t go very far without falling out of the bed. Her eyes dart around the room, finally realizing she’s in this 12 x 12 cage. She’s somewhere between deer in headlights and so pissed there’s fire in her eyes.

  She could probably fucking kill me too. Good thing I got rid of those hairpins before we got in here. Or it could be me six feet under right now as well.

  “You’re home now. I’m taking care of you, so don’t worry.”

  “Why am I in a fucking cage, Luca?” And now is where it gets nasty. I think I need to get out of here as much as I don’t want to.

  After one more hand slides down her side and causes her to shiver, I stand up and walk out of the cage to the other side, shutting the door behind me. Though, I don’t lock it yet.

  “In case you can’t remember, we’re married now. And I have something to tell you. A proposition for you. For now, this is where you will stay. You have exactly 90 days to love me. And by love me, I mean fall in love with me the way that you would a husband, or I will take an eye for an eye. I will take from you your life in exchange for the life that you took from me.”

  Maybe it is a bit dramatic considering I don’t even miss my brother that much, but I mean every fucking word of it. Someday I’ll thank her for doing away with my annoying brother, the one that was in the way of me doing what I wanted to do with her in the first place, but this is not that day.

  Then, I lock the cage and leave her to think to herself about how she’s going to handle this. If she’s even willing to try with me. There certainly have been women who have not wanted to try. And they got what was coming to them.

  A fucking fresh grave.

  Chapter Seven

  Elena

  I don’t know what to make of any of this. I knew the moment that Luca put his hands on my throat and forced me to marry him that I was in for a fight. I also knew that he was as dark and dangerous as he appeared when I looked into his eyes. However, I didn’t expect him to be a psychopath.

  Luca has me caged up here, though technically, this is a bedroom. This is the size of a small bedroom that you would expect to see in an apartment and one that has all the basics. The toilet, luckily, a shower that works, I think, but there’s no curtain or glass. Of course, there is a bed, the very place I woke up and found myself in this cage in the first place. The bed and the sheets are the nicest things in here. Though minimalistic, it’s comfortable for the fact that there are bars surrounding me at all times.


  If I had to guess, the sheets are probably Egyptian cotton. I don’t think about the reasons that so much time has been spent on this bed, especially considering I’m being told that I am legally married to Luca. So, I became an Ungur after all, just not with the right brother.

  If the situation was different, and I wasn’t locked in a cage, and if I wasn’t so hungry from being without food for two days, then maybe I could laugh. The irony of it all is amusing, and certainly might get some chuckles from an outside party.

  I mean, I did kind of kill a man in order to prevent myself from having to be in a marriage where I didn’t love the person. Yet, here I am married anyway, to the very brother of the man who I killed. And the two of them look exactly alike. They are twins. So, I am literally going to have to look into the eyes of the man that I killed every day for the rest of my life unless I find an escape from here, which as long as I’m locked in a cage in the basement, that’s clearly not happening.

  If I’m right, it has been at least 48 hours since I woke up. Not a single shred of food has been given to me in any shape or form. I haven’t been visited by Luca or any staff or family members even. I don’t know enough about the way the family operates to know if his parents share this place with him or even his sister.

  Of course, I am only assuming I am in his home. I guess I can’t even be sure of that considering the only part of it I recall seeing is in here.

  Even though I took it upon myself to kill one of them and behave like one of them, the truth is, I know very little about the Clans, and even less about the Ungurs. I’ve never even visited Spain, and they aren’t the Clan members at the forefront of news and rumors that reach me.

  Of all things to have in this minimalistic cage/ bedroom, the one thing that I almost immediately notice after I force myself to stop getting sick from the chloroform every hour on the hour, is the Victorian vanity that sits in the corner. It has a couple drawers and a large, gorgeous mirror.