Page 14 of Blood and Magic (RBMC: Helena, MT #2)

I led Molly ahead of him, raising an eyebrow as I passed.

I usually enjoyed taking these rides alone.

It gave me time to think and enjoy the quiet.

There was nothing like being under the big open sky with miles of land in front of me.

Now, I had an escort… which was just a nice way of saying babysitter.

Once we got into the back territory, I opened it up and let Molly stretch her legs.

She loved to run, and I loved to go fast. Together, we were formidable.

In another life, perhaps I’d been an equestrian, and we could have done tournaments. We both would have loved it.

Vermillion kept up with me, and it felt great to see Rusty in his element.

No longer the starved, abused animal we’d adopted, he had the strength to match any other horse his size and stature.

After twenty minutes, I slowed Molly down to let her catch her breath.

Vermillion pulled up beside me with his lips split into a huge grin.

For half a heartbeat, he reminded me of the guy I’d used to know, the one with an easy smile and a quick joke for everyone he saw.

“You ride well,” he said.

“Yeah, some guy I used to know taught me.” I recalled the days when he would pick me up and prop me in a saddle, teaching me how to hold the reins and guide the animal with gentle cues.

“He must have known what he was doing.” Vermillion smirked and looked away, avoiding my gaze. Even if he used to be (or still kind of was) my enemy, he looked really good.

“Sure,” I said. “Until he disappeared and abandoned our family for a new one.”

Vermillion glanced back at me. “There were things I had to take care of…things you don’t understand.”

“Uh-huh.” I let the sardonic noise hang between us. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter, anyway.” He’d gone off to join the Bastards, and I’d gone to boarding school, and none of it had made a difference. My heart had stopped for five whole minutes, and none of that mattered, either.

“Why do you say it like that?” he asked, his tone surly and gruff, like the thought of it not mattering irritated him.

“Like my leaving had anything to do with your life? You had your precious silver spoon and an abundance of caregivers. I’m sure twenty other people were waiting in line to teach you how to ride a horse. ”

“What do you know about it?” I spat. “You got your paycheck and left, and on life went.”

He furrowed his brows, his mouth hanging open like I’d genuinely shocked him. “Why did my leaving make you so mad?”

I didn’t know. I didn’t understand where this reaction was coming from.

My head ached, and my stomach rolled like my breakfast might project itself across the pasture.

The little girl inside of me raged at having woken up one day to find a person she relied on had left.

He’d been twenty-one at the time, barely a man himself.

“I had little siblings of my own to look after,” he said.

“And I don’t know if you noticed, but our families have been enemies for decades.

Working here pissed a lot of people off, my family and pac—” He cleared his throat as if he’d said something he didn’t mean to.

“My family and brothers included. The money was good, but eventually, my siblings needed me home. My parents were dead, and no one was looking after them.”

That poured water on the fire in my belly. His parents were dead? I didn’t know that. A heartbeat of silence passed between us, where I let my shame eat away at my pride. I didn’t realize I’d been so angry at him, and for what? What did I honestly know about him?

“How did they die?” I asked. The words came out quiet and soft, my ire calmed.

“The attack on the Royal Bastards,” he said. “Your father…”

Ahh. That one hurt. His family had supposedly killed my mother, though we never found her body.

My father retaliated by hiring mercenaries from the Bloody Scorpions to infiltrate the Bastard homestead, taking out at least twenty of them.

It was a massacre, but my father had never been known to do things by halves.

“I’m sorry,” I said, glancing at my hands to avoid his accusatory stare. “Father was cruel and heartless, not just to his enemies.”

“It’s not your fault. I only worked here to put food on my siblings’ plates,” he said, and something in his voice made it sound like he was still holding back a piece of the story. “But once a spot in the Bastards opened up, I took it. I couldn’t stay.”

“How does that work?” I asked. “More people are living at your homestead than seem to be in the Bastards.”

He nodded. “That’s right. We’re more like a…commune, I guess.”

I couldn’t help the next thing that came out of my mouth. It shot out of me like a cannon. “Are you in a cult?”

Vermillion barked a laugh and shook his head, and the sound warmed me. I liked his laugh, and I liked his smile…perhaps entirely too much.

“No,” he said. “Though it does feel that way sometimes. No. We have a leader.”

“Kodiak,” I said.

He nodded. “And those closest to him, those he trusts the most, are part of his council. That’s the RBMC. We ride together. We die together. We’ve sworn our loyalty to the colors and the club and each other.”

I narrowed my eyes, partly in contemplation and partly to taunt him. “Sounds like a cult.”

“What about you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you enjoy working for Vanderbilt Holdings?”

I sighed and shook my head. “I suppose I should. It put me through school. It’s paying my bills.”

“Does it feed your soul?”

I glanced at him and considered. “No. If I had my way, I’d ride every morning and draw in the afternoon.”

“Draw?” His curiosity lit up his face, his eyebrows raised, and his eyes wide. “You can draw?”

“Some.” I usually didn’t like what I created, so I had an entire shelf of sketchbooks that would never see the light of day. Some even included portraits of him, though I’d never admit that.

“Don’t be modest.” He nudged my shoulder with his. “I’d like to see them.”

“They’re nothing really. My father used to tell me art was for the poor and foolish.

” I could still hear his voice in the back of my head.

“‘And you’re neither,’ he’d say. He made me drop my art classes in favor of a business degree.

All of the Vanderbilt siblings were expected to join Vanderbilt Holdings after graduation.

All except Ava, but that’s only because she’s a lawyer.

” My twin had been afforded the luxury of choosing a different path because it was more lucrative than the one I’d had thrust upon me.

“I suppose if I had wanted to be pre-law instead, he might have allowed such a deviation from his plan.”

“Well, he’s dead now,” Vermillion said. “So you can do whatever you want.”

“There’s a pretty thought.” I snorted and shook my head. “Do you have a motorcycle?”

He nodded. “I do. I rode it up last week.”

I pursed my lips, considering whether to ask the next question. If he turned me down, I’d be disappointed, so perhaps?—

“Have you ever been on a bike before?”

I shook my head. “No. Father would have killed us if we’d even thought about it.”

“I could...” He stopped himself. “Never mind.”

“No, go on. Say it.” I suspected he’d been about to offer what I wanted, and I yearned to hear it.

“I could take you out one day,” he said. “If you want.”

“Really?” I smiled, though I knew I shouldn’t. Something about being on the back of his bike with my arms wrapped around him, all that internal combustion between my legs, seemed forbidden and salacious. I shouldn’t want it, but heaven help me, the adrenaline junkie inside ached for it.

Ava would chastise me, I was sure. But what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

“Sure,” he said. “Maybe this weekend sometime.” Vermillion seemed like he’d been about to say more, but then he straightened and glanced around us like he’d heard something I hadn’t. He sniffed the air and looked at the tree line on the other side of the stream.

“What is it?” I said. “Do you see something?”

He glanced back at me and nodded. “I think it’s time we head back.”

I’d barely gotten in the riding time I wanted, but I didn’t argue. He turned Rusty around, and I followed with Molly. We took the path back home in silence, both of us perhaps having shared far too much with each other in such a short time.