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“You stay with me until I end your brother and father,” I said firmly.
Talia tried valiantly to hide the shake in her voice. “I wish it hadn’t come to this. Is there any way to show you I’m innocent, that you’ll forgive me and—?”
“What happened in the room over there is it, Talia. This marriage and whatever we had is over.” Either I would kill her for her crimes or her innocence would set her free. Both options ended with her separation from me.
I saw a plea flash through her eyes. I turned away so I didn’t have to answer it out loud.How could I ever be with you, Talia? Even if you are innocent.
Chapter 54 – Talia
Without a word, I trailedafter Constantine through the house. When I saw the perimeter monitoring system, I knew no one could approach without warning. Seeing those screens confirmed this was one of those places where individuals could operate without fear of the law cracking down on their activities. This house could serve as a safe house as much as a long-term prison, or even a dungeon to torture and kill. I didn’t see anyone else in the house, but the computer screens were alert as we passed through the main room.
The blast of sunbaked heat that welcomed me on exiting the building, as well as the stretch of endless sand, confirmed we were indeed in the desert. Not that it mattered where we were anymore; I was leaving this place alive. I wanted to tell myself that where there was life there was hope, but the terrible energy radiating from the butcher said otherwise.
Parked in front of the house was a lone vehicle. I slid into the sleek sedan unassisted; Constantine was without his usual entourage of bodyguards and driver. He folded into the driver’s seat next to me, and we sped down the dusty road. I couldn’t help sneaking a careful glance at the man next to me. In the blaze of the setting sun, his features were alive. He looked like a pirate, with his dark hair and blazing midnight eyes. A ferocity reigned over his features, but I knew it was only a mask concealing his grief.
Iryna is dead. Claude is the reason why.
The past thirty hours made sense now. The only thing that could have incensed him enough to consider killing me was this terrible reality. He probably had friends and advisors whispering terrible suggestions in his mind. But the decision to lock me up was his and his alone.He can’t look at me without seeing my part in this mess.In the end, he didn’t kill me because he isn’t a monster. Instead, he’s going to let me go, but he couldn’t do that without a final act of passion. That raw lust was rooted so deep between us that if anything was going to save us it was that.
What I knew to be true was that in the short space of my acquaintance with this man, he’d gone from enemy to lover to someone who could be more. If we could get past everything, Constantine could be a real partner. And just because a hurricane was battering the walls, it didn’t mean I was abandoning him. What I needed to do was make Constantine see that I was a Drakos now—till death do us part. The only way to do that was to spill blood to bring balance to the scales. It was as he said: an eye for an eye.
“Where are Claude and Gustave?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“We don’t know.” His voice was granite, causing goose flesh to erupt over my skin.
“That’s how it always is,” I murmured sadly. My father owned several mansions along the coast and in northern California, and he and my brother lived there or in modest apartments in the larger cities. I had rarely lived with them. Father had sent me away to be educated. As a result, they always had safe houses to fall back on, much like the one we’d just left. I laughed under my breath at the irony.
Constantine flicked a glance my direction. “They’ve used aliases to hide.”
I nodded. “The driver might be the only Beaumont servant who knows our true surname.”
“A driver?” There was a hard edge to Constantine’s voice.
“I never knew his name. He’s been in service as long as I can remember; the only other constant besides the devil and his spawn.” I drew little figure eights on the tops of my thighs, tracing a pattern in the gray sweatpants Constantine had thrown at me along with a plain black tee shirt after the shower. My bare feet wiggled on the rubber floor mat. “I’ve thought about using him to help us find Gustave, but we never had a chance to formally strategize our plans.”
“You could have told me this that night after the opera.” Suspicion laced his voice.
