Page 59 of Wedlock

Roaring in rage I jump to my feetand burst through the doors of his castle.

43

I hold Jag’s phone tightly to my chest and virtually run back to my room, my hand across my chest to stop my breasts, heavy with milk, from bouncing painfully.

I’m late to feed my boy, but the delay was worth it. The phone in my hand could very well be my ticket to freedom.

Reaching my room I put the phone into my pocket and smile as the nanny hands me my son.

Jag has left, presumably to hunt Asumpta, but he’d given me his assurance he’d help me leave the castle within the week, as soon as he’d secured a safe place for me. He’d initially suggested his own castle in France, but I have no intention of being heldin any castle by any vampire ever again, even one with the best intentions.

Instead, I’d agreed he could find somewhere else to stash me for the time being, a safe house, and I’d asked him for his phone.

With the nanny gone and the baby on my breast, I dial quickly, my hands shaking with anticipation and not a small amount of agitation that my plan won’t work.

I’m not going anywhere with Jag, and I’d never in a billion years leave my baby behind. Now that Asumpta and Eleanor are out of the picture and Viper’s dead, I have another idea.

She answers on the first ring.

44

The castle is bereft of all life, and by that, I meaneveryoneis dead.

The bodies of staff and guards lie scattered all over the entry tiles and up the wide stairway.

If Spider was here, he certainly isn’t now.

Frowning, I sheath my sword and slowly turn back to the main entry doors.

As I step through, a black cloud encircles me, and I reach for my weapon once more, but replace it instantly as I recognise the Queen’s personal guards.

“Now what?” I growl.

A voice barks out of the darkness.

“Lord Falcon Dragonspur, you are arrested in the name of the Queen, on the charge of the murder of Countess Sophie Dartlore.”

45

“I told you never to answer my call,” I grin into the phone like an idiot, my elation that I’d remembered her number almost as high as the fact that I can hear her voice once more.

“We knew Viper was dead,” she snorts, “I was waiting for it. And I know where you are. I Air-tagged your suitcase.”

“Yin,” my eyes water despite my best intentions.

“Don’t,” she murmurs, “you’ll make us both cry, and I know you probably haven’t much time to talk, so I’m going to make this quick, OK?”

“Yes,” I nod, although obviously she can’t see that.

“I have a plan.”

“I hoped you would.”

“How well does Falcon know his son?”

“He doesn’t,” I snort. “He doesn’t even really think the boy is his. He’s only seen him once, maybe twice in all this time.”

“Excellent.”