Read Wild Heart Online

Authors: Lori Brighton

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

Wild Heart (28 page)

BOOK: Wild Heart
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Colin shook his head. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“If he could read minds, why the hell didn’t he know the men in the camp would kill us?”

“Because those men were trained. They knew how to block their thoughts. Had spent years learning. He caught only glimpses once in a while, enough to make him uneasy.”

Leo shook his head, unable to believe the words.

But then suddenly he was a child again, sitting on a boulder next to Archie.

 

“What is it, my boy?” Archie had asked.

Leo shook his head. “Nothing.”

“I know when you’re lying, Leo. Come on now, speak up.”

Leo picked up a stone and tossed it into the creek. Taking his lower lip between his teeth, he glanced over his shoulder to see his mother and father cuddling. Their gazes were fastened on each other, noticing nothing else. Farther away, the group of men they’d hired sat huddled around a camp fire, their heads close together
.

“You don’t trust them,” Archie said
.

Leo jerked around to face him. “How’d you know?”

Archie put his arm around Leo’s shoulders and winked. “I know lots of things, and I don’t trust them either, my boy.”

 

“She’s never done anything strange?” Colin’s voice jerked him back into the present.

It took a moment for Leo to understand what Colin meant. “Ella?”

He nodded slowly, his eyes locked on Leo, looking for only God knew what.

Leo drew is horse to a stop. “What are you implying?”

Colin stopped his mount next to Leo’s. “My father believed she could speak to animals. Somehow she always knew when one was in trouble.”

Shivers raced over Leo’s skin.

“You know, Leo. She’s different. It’s why they hunted her down. Why they tried to kill her years ago with that fire. Two groups with two different intentions. One to kill people like Ella. One to use people like Ella.”

Hunted her down. Like she was an animal to slaughter. Leo’s nostrils flared, and his heart clenched in his chest. They’d kill her for some blasted map, some myth of a statue?

“It took me years to find Ella. When our grandfather died, my father had planned to come for her and send her to America to live with my mother and me. But he never came back.”

Leo’s heart raced in his chest. Surely this was all insane. It couldn’t be true, could it? Did Ella really have powers? Then he remembered the doe trapped in the underbrush…Charlie…the horses…

“It wasn’t coincidence that Ella was saved from that fire and brought to Lady Buckley’s estate and then the castle. They call themselves ‘The True Keepers.’ A group of rich men who have made it their lives’ mission to hunt down the statues and their power, no matter what it takes. Your uncle belonged to that group and now your cousin.”

“And the men who want to kill her?” Leo asked.

Colin shrugged. “No one knows who they are.”

“The necklace,” Leo whispered.

“Yes, they all wear a similar necklace. How’d you know?”

“We found one at a man’s house north of London.”

“Convey’s house.”

Leo jerked his gaze to him. “You know him?”

Colin grinned. “Yes, I was there, although I had a beard at the time.”

“Did you kill the man?”

Colin laughed. “What use would he be dead? He was gone before I arrived.”

Leo kicked his horse into a gallop, mulling over the news, part of him not believing a word, but the other part…

“Ella’s necklace holds the truth, and your ring holds the key, Leo,” Colin called out.

His gaze fell to the emerald sparkling on his finger.

Colin’s horse caught up, racing beside his. “Whether you want to believe it or not, Ella has abilities others don’t. Because of that, she’s in danger.”

Chapter 24

Waves of unconsciousness gave way to a foggy reality. Vaguely, Ella became aware of the sharp pain that pulsed through her head. She wasn’t dead…yet. Blast, but she couldn’t seem to move, and her lashes felt as if they weighed stones. Taking in a deep breath, she finally found the courage to open her eyes.

Shafts of light colored the room where Ella lay on a small bed. The place was silent, still. She shivered and drew her legs up to her chest, cringing when fresh pain shot through her ankle. The ache brought back memories…memories of Lady Buckley and of the man with the eerie eyes. Had she imagined him, or was he truly real?

Heated tears pooled in her eyes, and she pressed her face into the stale mattress. Had they murdered Leo? Was she too late? How she wished she could feel him, know if he survived. She swallowed her tears and felt as if shards of glass went down her throat.

Her gaze went to the open windows where a soft mist blew in from the open panes. Perhaps Lady Buckley had been right all along—perhaps she was evil. Only an evil person would have powers that could invite such murderers to prey on the innocent.

A small sparrow landed on the window ledge. He tilted his head and looked at her as if questioning her presence. Then, as if finding nothing exciting, he flew away to freedom. She pushed herself up, determination flaring through her body. Wrapping her fingers around the window sill, she peered over the ledge. The sun was starting to set, another day gone.

Flaking, white paint from the window ledge floated to the ground. She recognized the gardens below…much, much too far below. She was back at Lord Roberts’s castle, in the attics, from what she could deduce. She’d take her chances and jump out that window with the bird, if there weren’t massive boulders piercing the landscape.

The sudden thump of footsteps made her spin around. Her gaze swept the room, looking for anything to use as a weapon. A chair sat in the far corner. Clenching her jaw, she pushed away from the window ledge. Pain shot up her leg, her bad ankle throbbing. Gritting her teeth, she leaned her hip against the bedpost.

Metal screeched as the door was unlocked. When it opened, Henry stood there, looking clean and refreshed, the perfect gentleman. “Glad to see you are up and well.” He closed the door. “I’m sure your head hurts like the very devil. It usually does after taking Lady Buckley’s elixir of life.”

“What will you do with me?”

A slow grin spread across his face. “So eager to know.” He moved across the room and lit a lantern, producing a soft glow of light that pushed back the lengthening shadows.

“We must talk, Ella,” Henry said, sitting on the wooden chair across from her.

“What do you want?”

He sighed. “The only way we can get to the statue is through you, Ella.”

“Statue?” Her ankle protested fiercely her weight, and she finally settled on the edge of the bed.

His eyes narrowed. “You don’t know?”

She didn’t bother to respond to his confusing question.

He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. “Imagine, Ella. A statue of supreme power. And not just one, but many. If we can unleash that power, think what we could do.”

She swallowed hard, wondering when he’d lost his mind. Had it been a slow process, or had he woken up one day mad?

He didn’t seem to notice her silence. “Only one with the special gift can open the map.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He frowned. “Don’t play dumb. I know. I’ve always known what you can do.”

She stiffened. Surely he didn’t. But by the look in his gaze, she realized it was true. “How?”

“Lady Buckley, of course. We’ve known about your uncle for some time and were watching you all along.”

Suddenly, her life seemed to fall into place, piece by piece. “The book. Lady Buckley had a book with symbols on it.”

“Ah, yes. It explains everything about the statues.”

She didn’t care about their little book, she didn’t care about any statues; she only cared about Leo. “I don’t know anything about a map.”

He gazed toward the windows as if he hadn’t heard a word she said. “Grandfather is rather upset with you, you know. The old coot is so bloody focused on this castle and our heritage that he doesn’t realize what we are near to accomplishing.”

“This is utterly nonsensical,” Ella snapped. “You can’t truly believe a statue holds power.”

“And is it nonsensical that you can speak to animals?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, leather book.

“I can’t speak to them,” she mumbled, dropping her gaze to the floor.

“Well, whatever it is you do.” She knew he watched her, and she waited for his next words, wondering how he’d bait her. “Why, Ella? Why must you be so difficult?”

She didn’t respond. How could she respond? The man was utterly mad.

Henry laughed and opened his palm. From his fingers her necklace dangled.

She sucked in her breath, and her hand went to her neck. “Stealing things from me while I was unconscious? Very noble of you.”

“It’s in this, you know,” he said, ignoring her and setting the book on a chair. “The answer. I know it is, and you will tell me how this necklace works.”

“I haven’t a clue,” she cried out.

He smiled, finding her frustration amusing. While she watched, he clasped the necklace around his neck, tucking the pendant under his white lawn shirt. “Your uncle had powers too, you know.”

That shocked her, and Ella couldn’t keep the surprise from showing. “Archie?”

His grin widened, most likely thrilled he’d produced a reaction from her. “Yes. Of course. He cried like a stuck pig when we killed him.”

Bile rose in Ella’s throat, but she refused to react. He’d killed her uncle. Leo had been right all along. Henry was a monster, a murderer.

“Where did you think you and your cousin received your abilities? They’re usually passed down.”

My cousin?
Ella’s mind raced but she refused to show her shock; Henry would take too much glee in her reaction.

He moved across the room as if strolling through a park on a fine summer day. “We would have used him—your cousin, that is—if we’d been able to hold onto him. Beastly man.”

Ella focused on the small novel he’d left behind and saw the familiar symbols on the cover. Lady Buckley’s book. How many people belonged to their mad group? “So instead of my cousin, you went after me, a little girl,” she murmured.

“Of course. We had you tucked away, just in case we needed you.”

Ella swallowed hard, her mind spinning. If she pretended to go along with his plan, she’d have more time to escape. If she didn’t, he may kill her immediately. “And if I refuse, who is your third option?”

Henry frowned, and his eyes narrowed. “None of your concern.”

He lied; he had no one else. She was sure of it. Giddy relief rushed through her. “Fine.” She stood, favoring her good leg and feeling the slight thrill of power for the first time in days. “I’ll help you if you release Leo.”

Henry’s eyes became mere slits. “Done.”

There was something too easy about the way he’d agreed. He hadn’t even paused.

Ella knew.

Suddenly, she knew. Her lungs seemed to collapse and she couldn’t breathe. “You’ve already killed him, haven’t you?”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. She felt as if her soul had been wrenched from her body. Her legs wouldn’t hold her anymore, and she collapsed to the ground with a sob.

Henry sighed. “Please, no hysterics. It’s most likely too late for my dear cousin, but not for you.”

Most likely? Leo might not yet be dead? Ella held onto that bit of hope, used it to keep her heart beating.

He stepped closer to her and leaned down so they were eye to eye, his face blurry through her tears. “Do you really want to end up like Leo?”

Staring into the man’s face, the warrior within her flared to life. Ella’s breath came out in ragged pants, and her fingernails dug into the wooden floorboards. In a cry of pain, she lunged at him. She hit his solid body, and they fell back with a thud. She didn’t pause, but pummeled her fists against his face.

“You’re a fool,” Henry snapped. His fingers wrapped around her wrists, and he jerked her arms above her head. Before she could pull away, he flipped her onto her back, his weight pinning her to the floor. “You idiot. You’re wasting everything, everything. I will not let you ruin all I’ve planned. Dear God, he was just a man. This statue can give you power, more power than you could ever imagine. Anything you want, just think about it.”

“I want Leo,” she cried out.

Lifting her knee, she managed to kick him in the groin. He grunted and fell to the side. Ella scampered out from underneath his legs and crawled toward the door. Fingers wrapped around her injured ankle and yanked her back. Pain shot up her calf. She cried out. With her free foot she kicked at Henry, but his hold was too tight.

Snarling, Henry jumped onto her, crushing the breath from her lungs. Ella could merely lie there, dazed. Fear mixed with anger, and underneath her emotions pulsed the resounding need to live. She couldn’t give up—she
wouldn’t
give up. A sudden crash vibrated the floor. Henry stilled, his eyes going wide.

At the same time, they both looked back. The dresser had fallen onto its side, the lantern rolling back and forth across the floor. Henry sucked in a breath and stumbled to his feet.

“Fire,” she whispered, pushing herself to her elbows.

Flames already danced across the floorboards and were licking the hems of the thick curtains. Frantic, she stumbled to her knees, and scooted away from the heat.

“Tell me, Ella.” Henry’s attention snapped to her. “Tell me how the necklace works.”

“I don’t know,” she growled, trying to get to her feet, but the pain in her ankle wouldn’t allow for such movement. The flames licked up the curtains higher…higher, turning the plaster ceiling brown.

She looked up at Henry. “Go. You must get help, get water, something.”

His fingers curled at his sides. Gone was his perfect façade. His hair was mussed, his jacket twisted. “Tell me you’ll assist with the statue. Tell me you’ll use your powers.”

“Yes, yes,” she cried out.

His lips lifted into a snarl. “Bitch, you lie. I can see it on you face.”

Blast it!

He stepped back toward the door. “Tell me how to use the necklace or you’ll burn.”

“Go to hell,” Ella hissed.

His eyes flared and then calmed just as quickly. “I guess you’ll finally see your beloved Leo…in the afterlife. Good luck, Miss Finch, you’ll need it.” With that said, he turned and rushed from the room. She heard the door lock, trapping her inside. She couldn’t move. No one would come to her assistance. She knew without a doubt, she was going to die.

 

“So,” Colin said, slipping from his mount and looking up at the castle. “We just walk inside and confront your grandfather?”

Leo jumped from his horse. “He’s abed, sickly. Shouldn’t be too difficult to demand answers from the man.”

The house lay eerily quiet in the gray dusk. Too quiet. From the shadows, a young footman rushed forward and took their reins. Neither Colin nor Leo jumped at the child’s sudden appearance. Leo had been trained not to react—apparently Colin had been too.

“Lad, might want to keep the mounts nearby. We may be leaving soon,” Colin said.

The boy nodded and scampered away.

They moved up the stairs, and as usual, the door opened before they reached the top step.

“Your grandfather awaits your presence in the study,” Samson droned, staring at the far wall.

“Didn’t realize the brutes that allowed us through the gates would be able to spread word of our arrival that quickly,” Colin said softly.

Leo didn’t answer, but made his way toward the study with one purpose in mind. Ella was here, somewhere; he could feel it…sense her.
Merda
, he wanted to go immediately to her room, but he knew that was too easy, she wouldn’t be there.

He stepped into the study, and his gaze found his grandfather. The old man sat in a leather chair that flanked the fireplace, a cup of tea in hand. Besides the cut on the side of his head, he looked completely and utterly well.

As he glanced at Leo, no reaction crossed his weathered features. He set his cup down with a soft clink and folded his hands in his lap. “I see you’ve managed to escape.”

Pain sliced like a knife through his heart. Colin had been right all along. He’d known, hadn’t he? Deep down he’d known his grandfather didn’t care about him, but hearing the words, knowing for sure…He forced the sorrow back into the dark recesses of his soul and instead released a wry laugh. “Will you not even try for a look of surprise?”

“Why? I’m sure Henry filled you in when he locked you away. He does so love to taunt.”

The old man was aware of everything. Leo wanted to roar with the injustice of it all. Instead, he kept his face stoic and strolled across the room as if he had no purpose in mind.

He could hear Colin settle in a chair near the door and knew the man would watch his back.

“We have a guest?” his grandfather asked, sounding anything but thrilled.

Leo poured himself a glass of scotch and turned. “Yes. Colin, my grandfather Lord Roberts. Grandfather, this is Colin. Henry helped murder his father, along with mine.”

Lord Roberts sighed and stood. “Really, Leo. It’s the past. It was a mistake; when will you let it go?”

He ignored the man’s question, ignored the anger, the pain. “Were you ever truly going to allow to me run this estate?”

The old man clasped his hands behind his back. “At first. Whether you believe me or not, I was ecstatic when I found you lived.”

Leo took a healthy swallow of his scotch, the liquid burning down his throat. “Until you got to know the real me.”

The old man shrugged. “Well, can you blame me?”

Part of him couldn’t. Still, to resort to murder? “I’m your grandson,” Leo whispered. “Animals in the jungle have more sympathy.”

The old man shrugged. “If you’d grown up here, you’d realize that as a family we do what is best for the name, the estate. Dear God, for centuries kings and queens have killed their own for a title.”

BOOK: Wild Heart
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