Page 18

CHAPTER 18

With Dante, Maarja never knew whether or not she was being played.

This time, she knew. He was not playing her.

He sat, holding his phone, carbonite frozen in shock. His eyes flared gold, a giant blast that exuded no heat, no emotion except shock and realization.

It couldn’t last. She waited for his hand to dip into his jacket, to pull out his pistol and blast her into oblivion.

Instead his lips parted to release one word. “How?”

She stared at him, his features, his eyes burned into her retinas. It was like looking at the sun without protection, waiting for the predicted eclipse.

Behind those eyes, his brain clicked through the possibilities and, of course, came up with the right answer. “The video game.”

She nodded.

Now the pistol. Now the bullet. Now the long sleep and the end of the feud.

“Get out.”

She didn’t move. She didn’t understand. Did he want to shoot her in the back? Why… “Why?”

“Why let you go? Why not kill you?”

“Yes.”

“Because you carry my child.”

“I do not!” Possibly not her brightest moment.

“You’d better hope you do.”

“A baby would save my life for nine months. After that I’m easily replaced.” Why was she even discussing this?

“Forever. You are bound to me forever. I hold your life in my hands. You hold my son in your body.”

His gentle smile chilled her. She wanted to shiver…but she was afraid to stir, afraid that the merest movement or whisper of denial would trigger violence. Maybe not a bullet, maybe…something that would leave her scarred, body and soul.

His lips barely moved as he said, “Maarja, everything that has happened started with you. You could have run from that explosion. Instead you chose to save my mother. That gave Serene her chance to rob me. That’s why Alex was beaten. That’s why we fucked, and that is why you’re carrying my child.”

She shook her head. “That’s stupid!”

“The real world runs on repercussions.”

“I don’t live in that world. I refuse to live in the old ways!”

“You’re in over your head in the old ways. You’re drowning in the old ways.” His voice and his face were cold, impatient, certain. “When you rescued my mother, that act alone enlisted my protection for you. That bravery can’t be canceled by this newest revelation. I am not my father. I am not Benoit Arundel. Be grateful for that.” He flicked his hand at her as he’d flicked his hand at Tabitha. The message was clear. She was no higher than an employee, and she had taken as much time as he cared to give her.

Nodding stiffly, she turned with military precision and headed toward the door.

Before she stepped across the threshold, his voice brought her to a halt. “Maarja.”

She wavered. She really didn’t want to surrender to the command in his tone. Not to mention he was ruining her absolutely perfect exit from the room and from his life.

On the other hand, she knew, absolutely knew, he wouldn’t let her leave until he was damned good and ready, and she wasn’t of the mind to test her strength against his. Not today. Not after this revelation, not after telling him her great secret, and of his easy turn to possible brutality. Turning with the same military precision, she faced him. “What?”

“Repeat the phone number.”

Not what she expected, in so far as she expected anything. “The phone number?”

“The one I made you memorize.”

She wanted to say No and Why , and I’m never going to call you, not ever, no matter what . But the barbarous vendetta that had haunted her for her entire life had at last trapped her. She was caught. Her foster sister Alex had been swept into the hostilities.

So Maarja could say none of those things. Instead she looked just past Dante’s right ear and recited the numbers, and when he said, “Very good. You may go,” she did.