34. Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

I t was finally quiet below.

The drunks had either passed out or stumbled home by now. The harlots in whichever open bedrooms they could find.

During the past week, Valentino had allowed Izzie to move freely within the confines of the villa—she wasn’t his prisoner, he kept claiming, though it had felt like a death sentence she’d been marching toward since the moment she’d stepped onto his ship.

So many people in the villa. Too many to count, with so many coming and going. Valentino holding his own private court.

The women and servants remained the same from day to day, as well as a core group of men—the same from the ship—but there were constantly arrivals and departures of new faces. Gunfire peppered the days. Drunken revelry filled the night hours.

Even with free rein of the villa, there were few places she could go within it. She never went down to the main floor in the evenings. Too many crass drunken asses clomped together in one building for her liking.

But she had found an inconspicuous spot to sit in, in the corner of the upper gallery that surrounded the enormous dining hall, which the men had basically turned into a tawdry tavern. Tucked into her alcove close to the servants’ stairs where she could escape to if need be, she wasn’t bothered—wasn’t even seen by most—and she could sit next to a small round table, observing the drunken revelry below through the balustrades.

Listening. Plotting. Gleaning every bit of useful information about exactly what her current position was. Attempting to figure out a way to escape this land before Petrovuo and his son showed up in the villa. Which, according to her brother, would be within the next few days.

This week had given her confidence that she could escape the villa late in the night unseen, when everyone was passed out drunk, including the worthless guards her brother had positioned outside the exits of the villa.

That would be the easy part.

Finding a way into the prison that was on the tip of the cove that circled the harbor, and then stealing Thomas free from there was the seemingly impossible part.

But she wasn’t leaving this land without him. It wasn’t even an option.

She’d been a fool to ever believe her brother would leave Thomas alone. She had gone along with Valentino, naively, and now was paying the price. The only thing she had to be grateful for, was how Valentino liked to brag about having his “pet” back in hand. Bile into her throat every time he mentioned Thomas, but at least she knew he was still alive.

Tortured, but alive.

Izzie adjusted the line of lace scratching at her breasts on the gaudy dress one of the resident whores had kindly lent her, then leaned forward to glance one more time past the white balustrades supporting the railing. No one was moving below.

In two of the last seven nights, several men had met up covertly, long after the rest of the place had gone to slumber. She’d overheard about the derision in the ranks of Petrovuo’s men. How they planned to usurp Petrovuo in the next six months. What they planned to do to fill the empty hole of power a dead Petrovuo would leave.

Not a great time to marry into the family. Not that it ever would be.

Peculiar that the discussions did not involve her brother. Pieces were being moved across a chessboard and her brother wasn’t even at the game.

Though Valentino had always been unusually canny. She wouldn’t put it past him to be playing both sides of the war that was about to happen.

None of that would concern her if she got out of here. To that end, the most important thing she’d learned in the past week was where in the town the men were storing weapons for their insurgence.

Armed with that information, if she had four more of herself, she could come up with a plan to free Thomas in no time.

As it was, there was just one of her. The folly in any plan she plotted, which only left her stuck here.

But she knew she had to act soon. Her life, Thomas’s life, were hanging by a precarious thread that would be snipped the moment Petrovuo arrived here with his son.

No covert meeting this night. Still, she stayed stone still in her spot, waiting. Waiting desperately for something—any piece of information she could use to escape.

After a half hour of silence below, Izzie stood up, silently moving along the shadows of the gallery and to the hallway that led to her room on the upper level of the villa.

The room had clearly been decorated for all manner of sins, with its red velvet drapes and bedding, but the main giveaway being the mirrors attached to all four walls and the ceiling directly above the bed. A mirror she would be afraid would fall on her if she actually slept on the bed.

Whoever had furnished the villa had abominable taste.

Moving through the dark shadows of her room, she grabbed a pillow and a blanket from the bed to curl up in, and she felt a stab of guilt.

Thomas wasn’t sleeping with a pillow, much less a blanket. Only the tattered clothes he’d been wearing on the ship. Cold stones beneath him. Rats.

She shivered, dropping the blanket and pillow back onto the bed as she moved to the floor between the bed and the window. She couldn’t afford to get too comfortable here. Not when Thomas was stuck in a cold, dank cell. She wasn’t even going to stoke the simmering coals in the fireplace. She didn’t deserve warmth, not until she got Thomas back.

She was on her knees when a sudden voice came from behind the drapery on the left side of the window.

“I got your note.”

A screech escaped her as she jumped back up onto her feet, though she did an admirable job of reining in her reaction before she screamed any louder. Exhaling a sigh, she turned around, her voice a whisper. “How did you find your way in here?”

In the scant light from the coals in the fireplace, Callum stepped out from behind the red drape. For such a big man, it was impressive he’d been able to hide behind the red velvet.

Or maybe it had been obvious and she was just too exhausted to notice the very fact that danger could have been lurking in her room.

Callum gave her a nod, his voice low. “Came in with the fishmonger and slipped up the servants’ stairs a few hours ago. Acted like a drunken fool until I found your room.”

She glanced around. “How did you know it was mine?”

“It was the only one that had a modest dress in it.”

Her eyebrows lifted, questioning.

He pointed to her simple blue woolen dress from Edinburgh that hung over the back of a chair. “You were wearing that dress when I last saw you.”

She grinned, relief flooding her as she rushed to him and threw her arms around his neck.

She may not have four more of herself, but Callum was worth at least five of her. When she’d slipped that note to the dock hand at the pier, writing Callum she had to leave and begging him to take care of Thomas, she’d had little hope of it actually reaching Callum.

But it had. Somehow, it had.

More astounding, was that he came for her.

“I cannot believe you came.” Her words came in a choked whisper.

He chuckled. “You did send me a note.”

“A note that said to take care of Thomas.”

He pulled back from her hug to look her in the face. “Taking care of Thomas is taking care of you. Any idiot with two working eyes can see that.”

She squeezed him extra tight and he gave a slight chuckle. Untwining her arms from him, she looked up at him, afraid to look away and find out this was an exhaustion dream. “How did you find me?”

“I asked around, as I do.” His shoulders lifted. “The easy part was figuring out what ship you were taken on, for that dock hand told me.”

“You rewarded him thusly?”

“I did.” Callum nodded. “The hard part wasn’t finding the ship in port here—it was finding you. Average folk are deathly afraid of this place and the men in it.”

“As they should be.”

Callum’s face sobered. Looking down at her, his finger lifted to motion about the room. “You came from this?”

Her gut tightened at the question. A question she’d never had to answer. No one in England knew where she came from. No one in the Guardians cared—every one of them had pasts they didn’t want to revisit. An unspoken rule—never ask a guardian about her past.

Her head leaning to the side, she gave a half nod as she shrugged. “Somewhat. I came from a very empty this. There was nothing but empty walls and floors here when I was a child. No furniture. No beds. No clothes. No food. We had nothing. Only a grand veneer of riches that hid the reality behind it. That was all.”

“Your father?”

Her shoulder blades spiked, tensing at the thought of him. “He lost everything except for the walls of the villa before I turned three.”

Callum’s eyebrows lifted high as he looked around, a low whistle blowing out under his breath. “How did his fortunes turn?”

“My brother told me he somehow convinced my mother’s great-uncle, Petrovuo, that his road to redemption would be if he was put in charge of the prison. No higher position exists in the area. A position that means he runs this town and the surrounding countryside.” Her cheek lifted, a sour taste coating her tongue in just talking about the wretched family she’d come from. “This is where Petrovuo sends his enemies for torture and death. Plus my father gets a piece of every bit of the riches people bring to gain access to their loved ones that are imprisoned.”

Callum’s forehead wrinkled. “Petrovuo? I’ve heard the name. A smuggler on this side of the sea.”

She nodded. “Yes, and he is in charge of anything and everything up and down the coast. Anything he can make money off of, he does. Women, blood, smuggling, outright killing for any gain. Everyone in the area is indebted to him.”

“And if they aren’t?”

“They are dead.”

Callum eyed her for a long moment. “There is something else about the man?”

Her breath held in her chest, she started to resist telling him anymore. But Callum was here to help her. He’d actually come. She had to tell him. “My father sold me to Petrovuo before I left here years ago. It was part of the deal they made, and now payment is due. They plan to marry me off to Petrovuo’s son. I never thought they would find me—this was the least of my worries when I left this land. But my brother spotted me in Edinburgh and seized the opportunity to make good on the deal.”

“In Edinburgh—when you were there with Thomas?”

She nodded.

Callum’s lips pulled tight. “And the son?”

She shrugged. “What little I know of him, he is exactly like his father. Ruthless and blood thirsty. I left long before I had ever met him.”

Callum looked to the mirror above the head of the bed, his tongue pressing out on the side of his cheek. He did that sometimes when he was working through some problem. His gaze landed back on her. “Forgive me for asking, but do you want to marry the son?”

Her head flew back and forth, near maniacal. “No. Hell, no.”

“I didn’t think, but I had to ask.” His finger flicked out to her. “Why come back with your brother, then?”

Her throat collapsed on her and she had to force words out. “Valentino threatened to kill Thomas if I didn’t come and fulfill my duty to the family. I came back to save Thomas’s life, but my wastrel brother nabbed him anyway.” Her fingers clamped onto her forehead, rubbing. “I was an idiot to believe he’d leave Thomas alone when he could use him for leverage.”

“Wait, Thomas was taken?” Alarm shot onto Callum’s face. “He hasn’t been looking for you? I assumed he came after you. I honestly thought I’d find you two together.”

Wincing, she shook her head. “I led my brother straight to him. And this—here in Domenberge—is what he escaped, and I dragged him right back into the bloody horror of it.”

Callum leaned forward, his look intense. “What are you talking about?”

“The years Thomas was gone.”

His head jerked back. “You know what happened to him?”

“Don’t you?”

“No. Nemity doesn’t either. No one knows.” His eyebrows arched high. “But you do?”

Her mouth clamped tight. If Callum didn’t know, then it wasn’t her place to tell him.

“You need to tell me, Izzie.”

She held against it for a long breath. Thomas kept the abomination of his past to him alone, and she couldn’t betray that. Yet Callum had to know. It was the only way she could get Thomas out of that prison—she needed Callum’s help.

“I can tell you that he was in prison at the fort at the end of the peninsula. It was horrendous, and my brother was a big part of it. You can imagine the rest, and Thomas can make his own decision on telling you more once we get him back.”

She stared up at him, willing him to not dig in any further.

He gave her a nod. “Fair enough.”

“Between what Thomas has told me, and what I’ve gleaned from just listening to the brutes my brother has crawling all over this place, I think I have a plan to get him out, I just need more hands—and yours will do well enough.”

His lips pursed. “This is more than I thought—I thought I would come in, extract you, and we could find Thomas and go home.”

A slight grin came to her face. “Breaking into a prison wasn’t in your plans?”

“Not even in the outstretches of my imagination.”

She grabbed his forearm, her look intent on him. “Promise me, Callum, if it comes down to it—you need to get Thomas out. Leave me behind—I cannot have these people—my family—forever hovering over him as a threat for the rest of his life.”

He stared at her for a long moment, and his chest lifted in a deep sigh. “You traded away your life for his back in Scotland, and you’re willing to do it again?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

A knowing smile touched his lips. “You love him?”

Her hand dropped away from his arm and she half turned from him. “I know Thomas doesn’t deserve my father and brother carving away at his flesh for their own enjoyment.”

“And?”

She shook her head, her arms wrapping around her middle as her look lifted to the ceiling. “And I don’t know…yes…yes, I love him.”

“It’s okay to admit you love someone, Izzie. Need someone. Devil knows I didn’t necessarily always adhere to that belief myself.”

She glanced to him. “But now?”

“It’s not a weakness—it’s a strength if you allow it to be.” He went to the table by the fireplace and poured a glass of brandy from the full decanter. He took a sip, then brought it to her, setting it in her hand. She took a large swallow.

“You don’t have to be alone, Izzie. You, more than any of the other guardians, have always insisted on being alone. Depending on no one. No attachment too deep. Why do you think I asked Hector to choose you for this job in the first place?”

Her lips pulled to the side as she eyed him. “I’m afraid to ask.”

“You are a lone soul. Thomas is a lone soul. I couldn’t think of anyone more suited to help him overcome that, because it is always what you have needed as well.”

She looked up at him, her right eyebrow lifting.

“To not be alone. It’s what you both need, and I hoped you could figure it out together.”

She exhaled a long sigh, lifting the glass of brandy to him. “Well done on that, then.”

He chuckled. “Thank you, I think.”

Her shoulders tightened, lifting, her words hesitant. “I never believed for one moment you would come for me.”

“Because I wouldn’t be able to find you?”

“Because I wasn’t worth being found.”

He rounded her, stopping in front of her. “What lies have you been telling yourself?”

“Not lies—after my utter failure at my last assignment, and then my failure with Thomas, Hector was going to relieve me of my duties with the Guardians. It was almost a guarantee.”

He grabbed her shoulders, forcing her attention on him. “The Guardians were never going to cut you free, Izzie. We don’t abandon one of our own.”

She blinked hard, her look lifting to him. “I’m one of your own?”

“Since the moment you took the vow, yes. Even more so now. You are valuable, Izzie—don’t let anyone tell you otherwise—including those ghosts in your head.”

The lock on her door clinked, a key inserted.

Both of them froze for a split second, and then Callum shot into motion, rushing toward the window, opening it, and slipping out onto the gable.

Izzie scampered right behind him, leaning out into the cold night air, her voice a quick whisper. “Tomorrow night at the tree line just south of the drive.”

Callum nodded and disappeared over the peak of the gable.

She closed the window and spun back to the door just as it opened.

Swaying drunk, her brother filled the doorframe, his eyes red as his stare went to every inch of the room. “Who is in here?”

Her hands wrapped around the glass of brandy as she looked up at him, yawning. Her brow furrowed in confusion, she looked around the room. “In here? No one.”

He stepped into the room, moving to tower over her. “Do not cross me, Izzie. I have kept Father away from you because I don’t want to present Petrovuo with a mauled version of the woman he wanted for his son, but you press me, and I may just have Father stop by for a short visit.”

She inwardly cringed, though she forced herself to not show an ounce of fear in front of her brother. Another yawn that she covered with her fingers, and then she flipped them in the air toward the wall to her left. “If you heard anything, it was Linda, your barmaid, and her latest cove. Why do you think I’m still awake? They have been going at it all night long, or do you not keep tabs on the women here?”

She cocked her left ear up. Silence. Then muffled voices and some grunts.

Thank you, Linda.

She pointed toward the wall as the grunts dissolved. Valentino’s face contorted into a monstrous look and he whipped around, stomping out of the room.

The second the lock clicked closed, she sank onto the bench at the foot of the bed and bent over, her elbows resting on her knees, her fingers straining white around the glass as she tried to control her breathing that was quickly slipping out of control.

Harsh how quickly she could flip from a moment of calm and safety when Callum was in the room, to the wreck of anxiety gnawing at her insides, knowing her slightest misstep would have Valentino heading straight to the prison to torture Thomas just to spite her.

No tears, though.

Tears she wouldn’t shed until she had to.

She needed to get out of here, free Thomas, and then leave her past behind for good.

Thomas included, for he would never forgive her for how she betrayed him.