Page 54

Chapter Two

D orian stared at the now-empty glass resting on the table before him, running his fingertips over the still-moistened rim as he tried to pull himself from the well of his thoughts.

A booming, familiar laugh filled the space, and he threw a quick glance over his shoulder to his best friend and personal protector, Harry.

There was a woman sitting on either side of Harry, and they each had a hand on the man’s shoulders.

“Your time in the navy sounds so… heroic,” the woman on Harry’s left purred, running a finger over his chest.

“You really do need to tell us more about it,” said the other, her tone dropping to a seductive tenor.

Harry’s head swiveled between the two of them as they all spoke, and the grin that tugged the corners of his lips could only ever be described as triumphant.

Dorian shook his head before turning back to his empty glass, not wanting to hear anything of the conversation, sure that his friend would find some way to explain his heroics as if he himself was the one holding the world together.

Pure exhaustion racked Dorian’s body, the kind that made his shoulders hunch and his bones ache. Typically, traveling did not take so much out of him, but when combined with the sheer number of people he was forced to interact with when he was in London, it leeched all of the energy out of him.

Dorian cast one more glance over his shoulder in Harry’s direction, and seeing the sheer joy on his friend’s face, he found he could not bring himself to interrupt him. He turned back to the bar, threw a few coins onto it to cover everything they had drunk that night, and then strode for the door.

Their townhouse in London was not far, merely a couple of blocks, and as such, they had not taken a carriage to the club that night. The cool spring air swirled around him, immediately helping to sober him up a bit as he strode out into the night.

He had barely made it down the large front steps of the building when the sound of the door being pulled open, accompanied by the growing volume of laughing and chatter within Bartleby’s walls, flicked down to greet him.

Someone rather large was rushing down the stairs behind him, and Dorian did not need to turn to see who it was.

A beefy, warm hand clamped him on the shoulder, followed a split second later by an all-too-familiar voice.

“So, you are finished with having fun for the night?” Harry joked as he fell into step beside Dorian.

“Just because I am done for the night, does not mean you have to be,” Dorian chided, shaking his head.

“You know that I do,” Harry responded, suddenly quite serious. But he ruined the newfound somberness a split second later when his tanned face cracked into another grin, white teeth flashing, and he said, “Even if you did not let me have any fun with the two ladies inside.”

Dorian snorted. “We both know what kind of ladies Bartleby’s allows in. You would have needed to see the physician first thing in the morning.”

“Might have been worth it, though.” Harry winked knowingly at him, and Dorian laughed again. “However, it is likely for the best that we are well-rested for the remainder of the trip, considering what our purpose is.”

Dorian’s mood, which had just started to lift since leaving the club, soured once more.

He did not want or need the reminder of why they were in London.

The reality of it was seared into his brain, and he resented the fact that for just a moment, it had not weighed as heavily on his shoulders only for it all to come crashing down now.

“I know,” Dorian began, his head bowing slightly as they continued on their path. “It is not that…”

The sound of a dog barking and a woman’s raised voice wrenched through the night, and both Dorian and Harry came to an abrupt stop.

“You will not take another step closer to us,” the woman’s voice commanded. “Do you understand me?”

A man’s voice sounded next, much quieter than the woman’s, but his deep voice carried enough that his words were clear.

“Did ye hear that, lads?” There was a pause where Dorian could have sworn he heard more than one other man chuckle darkly before the first man’s voice sounded again. “She is demanding that we stay away.”

Dorian’s blue eyes flared as they met Harry’s, his friend’s muscles tight as a bowstring as he listened to what was occurring. They did not need words to convey what they were both thinking. Without hesitation, they both turned and ran in the direction of the voices.

Barely half a block away, they came to the mouth of a dark, black alley. Dorian stepped into it, giving himself just enough time for his eyes to adjust before they began assessing the scene before him.

There was a small, white dog whose hair stood on end like it had been struck by lightning standing in the middle of the alley, its lips pulled back in a snarl.

A woman was behind it, holding its leash.

She could not be more than fifty, and her eyes were wide with fear as she stared at the three men who stood between her and Dorian.

But to the woman’s side, there stood another, and the moment Dorian’s eyes fell on her, he felt his spine straighten.

She had dark hair, some of which had escaped its pins and cascaded around her face.

Her cheekbones were high, and her lips were almost perfectly heart-shaped and plump.

She was tall and lithe. But all of that paled in comparison to the dark-eyed gaze she had leveled on the men before her.

It flashed with defiance, daring them to take a step closer, despite the tremble that Dorian could see in the hands she had balled into fists at her sides.

She was, simply put, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He dismissed the thought in a flash, taking all of this in and processing it in less than a second. The three men in the middle of the alley, the ones that still had their backs to him, had not yet noticed his and Harry’s arrival, but that was all about to change.

“I believe the lady said to leave them alone.” Harry’s voice came out in a low, menacing growl, and the threat in it made even Dorian’s hair stand on end.

Dorian had never heard his friend’s voice like that, but he knew that during his time in the military, Harry had learned to wield himself as a weapon. It was no secret among them, and Dorian wondered if now might be the time that he finally saw his friend truly unleashed after all these years.

The three men whirled at the sound of Harry’s voice, and their eyes went wide with shock when they landed on the two newcomers.

Something about the scene before Dorian jogged an image inside his brain.

A memory of a different night, so very long ago, when men stood over the bodies of his father and two brothers.

He couldn’t put a finger on what had brought that memory to the forefront.

The setting, the men, the presence of the women, it was all entirely different.

But still, something about it sent the same feelings he’d had that night rushing through him, and he quickly steeled himself against it.

This is not the same night. These are not the same men. You have Harry, and it will all be fine.

He repeated it a few times, letting the words calm his nerves before he focused again on the present.

Only a split second had passed, and Dorian could see that, now, the two women also seemed shocked at their arrival. The older woman, the one holding the lead of the still-yapping dog, appeared to sag with relief.

But the other woman, the one who had immediately stolen his breath, was regarding them both as if to assess their threat level as well. Her eyes were narrowed on them, chin held high as she took them in.

She is smart to not trust two newcomers in this situation.

“Walk on,” one of the men in the center of the alley said.

He did not have the same gruff voice as the man Dorian had heard talking when they had exited Bartleby’s, so he believed him to be a different guy. He was the one to the right, and he straightened the lapels of his waistcoat as he narrowed his beady eyes at Dorian.

“We will not be doing that,” Dorian announced with forced calm, eyes raking over the men in the alley, refusing to let any more of his memories bubble up to the surface. “Which means you have two choices: leave or stay. But I promise, it would very much be in your best interest to leave.”

One of them, the man standing in the middle, snorted a laugh. He opened his mouth as if to retort, but Harry stepped forward. Dorian himself was quite tall, towering over most people, but Harry dwarfed even him. Harry cracked his knuckles menacingly.

Dorian could not see the look on his friend’s face, but he could imagine it. He had no problem at all envisioning the gleam in his friend’s eyes as the men stood before him, a gleam that threatened violence if provoked.

Dorian did, however, see all three of the men stiffen under Harry’s gaze, their eyes going wide as they were only just realizing the power that likely lay within those fists.

As if they were able to read the levels in which the man would go to protect not only his friend but the two women who were standing in the alley as well.

The man in the middle dipped his head, nodding at his companions to follow after him.

“We will leave,” he grunted, stepping toward Harry and Dorian, and raising his hands in surrender. “Just let us pass.”

Dorian and Harry stepped back, leaving enough room for the three men to file past them and disappear out into the street beyond. The people remaining in the alley all stood in silence, the dog no longer barking, as they listened to the sounds of the retreating footsteps.

Finally, when the city had long since fallen silent, Dorian heard one of the women let out a long, ragged breath.

“Well, ladies, I believe some thanks are in order.”