Page 8 of Trapped By Vengeance
I’m still clutching my dagger, and I reach to stab one of the offending hands. But my vision spins for a moment and I lose my balance. My blade slashes his garments but doesn’t pierce his skin.
Dazed, I turn to the brothers, sense their wonder at my speed and skill mixed with their pain and rage. I can almost taste the coppery flow of their blood in the air.
I take a faltering step toward them, and both men recoil. They needn’t have bothered, because my knees buckle.
Before I can stain my skirt on the filthy ground, brawny arms wrap around me, keeping me upright.
Looking up, I see Konrad’s concerned face. Actually, I seetwoof his faces. But that can’t be right— he’s not a twin like those two fellows . . .
“I’m so sorry,” Konrad says, pulling me completely into his arms like the first night we met.
My head nestles against his heartbeat, a gentle rhythm I didn’t realize I missed in my own chest. I can blink and breathe out of habit, but I can’t fake a heartbeat.
More than that, I enjoy being in Konrad’s arms. I think I belong here. Why is he apologizing? For not holding me sooner? Longer? The entire night long so I can actuallyfeel warm again?
Konrad’s gaze falls on my injured shoulder, and he curses. “They weren’t supposed to manhandle you.”
“That’s what I . . . tried to tell them.”
He tries to adjust his hold on me so he can better inspect my wound, but I keep my hand in place so he cannot see it. My dagger falls from my hand despite my efforts.
“I’ll see to it that no more harm comes to you while under my charge,” Konrad adds as other hands wrap my cloak more around me and pull my hood up over my face.
I’m too weary to look to see who it might be. Why am I so tired? I never feel exhausted until sunset, and then . . .
Poison! I must have been poisoned. A sleeping tonic must have been slipped to me. A potent one to overcome my natural immunities. It must have contained nightshade . . .
Confused, I look back up at Konrad the best I can with my hood halfway over my eyes. Did he say I was under his charge? I’m under no one’s charge but my own. And why aren’t we running? Why aren’t our assailants attacking us even though he is busy holding me?
Then I remember the way Konrad leaned strangely over my nasty ale that I didn’t even want to drink. I haven’t felt right since then—
My eyes widen for a moment of clarity, even as darkness swims in my vision. “You son of a—”
“Werwölfe!” I gasp before my eyes are even open.
“Yes?” Konrad’s voiceis weary.
Peeling my eyes open, I am relieved that it is still daylight. I am less relieved to find myself in what appears to be the captain’s cabin of a ship. Portholes let the sun in to illuminate the cot I’m lying on and nautical furniture nailed to the floor.
Konrad is sitting on a nailed-down chair, his hands folded in his lap as he faces me, his features pinched with . . . remorse?
Woozily, I glance down to see that I’m wearing the same coral dress I put on this morning, and the bleeding heart blooms are still in their place, but are a tad crushed. My tonic perfume is also still on my person, and I’m still wearing my silk gloves that serve both as a protection from the sun and a protection from me accidentally scratching someone and infecting them with venom beneath my nails.
Only my cloak has been removed and is hanging on a hook in the wall.
I push myself up to a sitting position, waiting for the vertigo to pass before speaking. “What? Not the brig?”
“As you have surmised, Valda—”
“LadyValda.”
Konrad sighs. “LadyValda, you are in my custody. But you are my guest, not my prisoner.”
I cross my arms over my chest and glance out of the closest porthole. I see waves but no trace of land. Are we already at sea? “Do you always take your guests against their will?”
“I’m afraid I’m a bit out of practice. I haven’t had any guests over since your father allowed my home to be ransacked.”
And there it is, the truth behind Konrad’s betrayal— he is one of myvater’smany enemies. Unfortunately for him, he does not know myvaterhas other plans for an enemy like Konrad. “I am terribly sorry that you faced such ill tidings, but I hardly see what that has to do withme.”