Hupotasso (Vampire Bachelor Games #2)

52

52

I know what I’m about to do is not permitted by any vampire law, but neither is half the shit this fuckhead has done, and he’s still living with impunity.

And despite Jag’s assertion, I do believe he has my wife under his control. I haven’t worked out how it all fits together yet with Attracta, Mother, Angie and the selection process, but it’ll make the puzzle a hell of a lot easier to fit together if I take away one big piece that’s obviously part of it.

Spider.

It’s a seven-hour drive to the Count’s estate, but we’ve taken the back roads to avoid any detection and left our devices at the castle to avoid tracking or tracing if suspicion should fall upon us. No staff, no drivers, pilots, or security are aware of where we are or what we’re doing. We’d agreed not to even embroil Wolf in this operation. The only two who know what we’re about to do are us. Jag plants his foot as we near the property, but we needn’t have brought the Hummer to smash into the grounds. The bastard has his gates wide open.

“He doesn’t fear anything,” I snarl.

“He will,” Jag says quietly, his eyes on the road.

It’s late afternoon, and although I’m exhausted from having no sleep for close to twenty-four hours I’m also strangely elated that the long dance between our families will finally be over. This feud has gone on for centuries, passed on from father to son. Although I initially tried to keep out of it, I’d been drawn in via the vilest means. Kidnapping my brother, forcing me into The Games, attacks on my castle from within and without, and now this latest attempt on my mother’s life.

It has to stop.

It has to stop now .

As we reach the wide, circular driveway fronting the castle, Jag turns off the engine and we get out without a word, black capes drawn tight, our face covered from the sun by heavy cowls. We can’t stand outside too long without the sun sapping our energy and eventually killing us, but we don’t intend to. Walking to the rear of the vehicle we bring out our assault weapons, each loaded with hundreds of rounds of silver bullets. Whether he has vampire or human guards it won’t matter; the lot of them are about to become Swiss cheese. I’m in no mood for theatrics, the rules of war, or fair play.

He dies. That’s all that matters.

Mounting the stairs we look at each other with surprise when we see the corpses impaled on his gouch hooks either side of the doors. Most of us removed those from our castles in the late medieval years, but Spider obviously preferred to keep his castle historically accurate. The hooks, the length and thickness of a man’s arm, are what humans miniaturised to model the hooks they use to hang their paintings upon walls. But once upon a time they were all large and used like this. When a human was hurled upon one they were instantly impaled by the razor-sharp metal, like bugs on a fork — they could take days to die. However, it isn’t the hooks that cause Jag and I to pause; it’s their grisly ornaments. I don’t recognise two of them, a middle-aged man and woman, but the third is unmistakably Isabel.

“No wonder Wolf and I couldn’t find them in Barcelona,” Jag murmurs. “It seems we were beaten to the punch.”

I grit my teeth and kick in Spider’s castle doors, prepared to unleash a bloodbath. But I needn’t have bothered. They’re unguarded and unlocked.

As we enter the dark, grand foyer, slow applause echoes through the room, and I look up to where my enemy and his wife stare down from the top of the stairs.

It’s clear we were expected.

By rights, Spider should still be asleep. Instead, he stands with his arm firmly around Sophie’s waist. Her baby weight almost gone, she looks regal in red velvet, proudly holding Spider’s son with its shock of pure white hair — the same colour as his father’s.

Spider laughs heartily when he sees the guns.

“Well, well, well,” he sneers, “it looks like we have company, wife .”

“They knew we were coming,” Jag murmurs.

I don’t reply. That much is evident.

I study Sophie where she stands. I’d promised to free her, and I intend to keep my promise. But as to marrying her, that’s something I’ve taken a great deal of time to consider after hearing my mother’s confession and learning that Sophie wasn’t carrying my baby. Although the jury is definitely still out over Angie, I know I don’t want Sophie by my side. Still, killing Spider will free her. She’ll retain her title of Countess and her son will inherit his father’s seat. She’ll have power, status, wealth and freedom — the things she truly wants.

“Sophie.” I nod to her, aware this will grate upon Spider.

“Fal,” she smiles, one hand moving to rest on her stomach.

I frown. My spy said she wasn’t pregnant.

‘Is she trying to tell me she is?’

She moves her hand slightly, and I raise an eyebrow. There’s definitely a swelling there, and she’s used her pet name for me.

‘Is she telling me her mind is free once more?’

“Hiding behind women?” Jag shakes his head. “Is nothing too low for you, Spider?”

“How did you know we were coming?” I growl.

“Women’s intuition,” he snorts, nodding to a terrified-looking maid who scurries towards us from behind a stuffed black rhino and hands me an envelope with tremoring hands.

There’s no mistaking it bears the royal seal.

“What dark machinations are you up to now, you bastard?” I hiss.

“Let’s just say,” he smirks, “that word on the street was that you were suggesting I was colluding with The Free Men. A most disturbing accusation. The queen was very happy indeed to be presented with three members of that disgusting tribe, including two of its grand masters and their daughter. Our illustrious leader was, in fact, so pleased that she wrote me a note.

I bite my tongue. Although I’ve proven beyond doubt that Giselle was Spider’s and that Angelina was put in by Mother, I have yet to link Spider to The Free Men, although my gut tells me he was involved with them in some way. By capturing and murdering Isabel and her family he’s neatly produced yet another smoke screen.

“And what does the queen say about you attacking my mother through one of your minions, biting my wife, and rigging The Games?”

“Your paranoia is particularly gratifying,” he grins. “As was the news of your mother. But the selection of the contestants in your second run of The Games was nothing to do with me. Perhaps you should look closer to home to solve your marital problems.”

“Bandying words with this bastard will solve nothing,” Jag murmurs.

Flicking a dark look at Spider, I snap open the seal on the royal missive and grit my teeth as I read the contents.

It’s a warrant of protection.

The queen asserts that should any violence be carried out against the count I’ll lose my head and my title, as will all I hold near and dear. She goes on to say that she regrets missing me on my recent visit to her castle and looks forward to seeing me and my wife in court next week, and every week after that.

Saying nothing I pass the note to Jag.

He skims it before sliding it into his pocket. It’s undated, but the fact she’d written it after our cancelled meeting would indicate that Spider had anticipated an attack. The note would also suggest the queen knew he’d done something to warrant it. Clearly, the presentation of the dead Free Men had mollified and swayed her.

Without another word we turn and walk out the door into the bright morning.

Neither of us says much on the way home, both of us wrapped deep in our thoughts as we consider the implications of the note from the queen.

When we reach my castle we head our separate ways.

It’s dark, and although I’m exhausted I’m too angry to sleep. Even if I could, I’d likely wake up in the daytime tomorrow and be completely out of sync. I need to stay up and ride it out.

As I enter my library, I see Viper sitting at my desk. I haven’t invited him back, and he knows he’s not welcome. Something extraordinary must have forced his return.

My blood runs cold as he delivers the news.

It takes me a full minute to react as I collapse into a nearby chair and bury my head in my hands.

‘My wife has run away?’

“I’m so sorry, brother,” he walks to me, resting his hand on my shoulder. “I came home as fast as I could. Asumpta contacted me because she couldn’t reach you. I thought you already knew, or I never would have delivered the information as bluntly as I did.”

I don’t look up as the door bangs open.

“This is family business,” Viper mutters. “You’re not welcome.”

“Shut your mouth,” Jag snarls, striding to where I sit and collapsing into the chair opposite me.

“Falcon. I just heard.”

My phone rings.

I listen carefully to what I’m being told before hanging up and rising.

“Later, Jag. I need to see Mother.”