Chapter 43 #2
Wow, I didn’t take him for such a misogynistic prick, but here we are. His behavior seems so completely out of character. The creature under my skin pushes against my rib cage, begging to be set free, hungry for pain.
“Can we move this along? I want to get to bed eventually.” I take a sip of my martini. I attempt to maintain an air of nonchalance, but I’m considering asking Komarov to break out the vodka.
“I’m sure you do.” Boden scrunches his nose.
“Boden, shut up,” Cal chastises dryly.
“Enough! Emotions are high. Everyone, calm down!” Kian interrupts what was clearly about to turn into bickering. “Miss Solis.”
I glare at him. His cock was inside me not even an hour ago, I think he can cut the Miss crap.
“Lena, we have questions, you have questions. I think it’s time we had an honest conversation?”
I give a curt nod.
“You want to know about the rumors, I want to put them to rest.”
I nod again.
“In order to do that, I need to know if there’s any truth to them.”
I sip my drink.
“Are you, or have you ever been, involved with the Dark Suns?” The expressive Kian from an hour ago has been replaced by a colder, harder version of himself, his impassive emotionless mask back in place.
I arch my brow.
“Adrik Solis’s supporters—do you have any involvement with them?” Kian asks with a deep frown.
“Nope, didn’t know any were still around.” My eyes narrow at Kian’s inquisition.
Kian glances at Komarov, who gives a dip of his head. What’s that about?
“Good. There are rumors that you’re in bed with them,” Komarov adds.
“Wouldn’t be surprising considering she’s in bed with everyone else,” Teariki chides under his breath, but he’s on drunk volume so we all hear.
“Ariki,” Cal warns.
“Not helpful.” Kian gives Teariki a punishing look. Teariki just shrugs and takes another drink from his bottle, like the fucking baby he is.
“These rumors suggest that you have an interest in following in Adrik’s footsteps and making a play for one of the kingdom’s thrones,” Komarov explains.
“Like your positions?” I scrunch my face, and Kian nods in response. “No, I have no desire to steal your thrones.”
“You do not intend to pick up where your father left off?” Kian grills me.
“No,” I confirm. Kian looks at Komarov again, who shakes his head, indicating that he doesn’t believe me. I narrow my eyes and add, “I have no intentions of acting like Adrik Solis in any way, shape, or form.”
“She’s telling the truth,” Komarov confirms.
“What are you, some kind of lie detector?” I huff.
“Yes, basically,” Komarov explains and hands Kian a black folder. Of course, reads minds and knows when someone’s lying.
“We swear to keep your secrets, Lena.” Kian meets my eyes over his glass. “If you help us disavow these rumors.”
“Okay.”
“We need you to publicly ally with us,” Komarov demands, his tone serious. “It will make a statement that you have no intentions of claiming a throne and have no involvement with the Dark Sun supporters.”
“Got it.” I angle my head. “I have more questions.”
“Of course you do.” Boden rolls his eyes, but for the first time all evening, he looks at me.
“Why did you come and collect me if you were worried I was working with Adrik’s supporters?” I ask.
“The devil you know is better than the one you don’t. I wanted to keep an eye on you,” Kian clarifies.
“Creeper.” I smirk.
Kian looks to the ceiling. “Why did you lie to Nik about your brother’s death?”
“What?” They want to talk about Dmitri. I chew on my lip.
“You told me you found Dmitri dead at the bottom of a ravine and called emergency services for help,” Komarov says, repeating the story I shared over our chess game. “That he was pronounced dead at the scene.”
“I did, he was.” I promised I’d answer their questions, but discussing Dmitri’s death isn’t something I prepared myself for tonight.
“Then explain this.” Kian tosses the black folder on the coffee table. Sending me into a tizzy of déjà vu harkening back months ago to our meeting in his suite at the Huxley. “This is the police report of the incident.”
I pick up the folder with shaking hands and scan the first page. What I’m seeing doesn’t make sense. “I don’t understand. What is this? This says two people were found at 2:00 p.m.”
“Correct, a John Doe pronounced dead at the scene and a Jane Doe, who was rushed to the hospital,” Kian says, summarizing the report.
“But it was night when the paramedics got there. I remember I called them as soon as I made my way to the bottom.” My brow furrows. “Dmitri was the only person there.”
“The Jane Doe awoke in the hospital a week later and identified the other person as Dmitri Solis,” Kian adds.
“I don’t understand. I told the paramedics who he was when they got there.
” I reread the report, begging the words to make sense.
“And this description of him, 5’11” blonde hair, blue eyes.
That’s not Dmitri.” I can’t seem to wrap my brain around what I’m reading.
“Who was the Jane Doe? There wasn’t a woman there. ”
“You tell me.” Kian stares at me, stone-faced and stern.
“The EMTs diagnosed her with a broken neck and back, a dislocated arm, two broken legs, and internal bleeding. But after they ran tests at the hospital, all she seemed to have was a concussion and some bruising. Her name is not in the report. She left the hospital without being discharged. Just vanished after waking and naming the man who’d died. ”
The entire room is focused on me, their eyes digging into my skin, predatory and observant.
“But her description is familiar. Red hair, hazel eyes, 5’6”,” Kian adds.
No, I climbed down, and I saw Dmitri, broken. I called 911. I talked to the paramedics.
“No, that’s not right,” I whisper.
“Lena, what aren’t you telling us?” Kian presses and leans across the coffee table to flip to the back page, to an image of two bloody bodies lying crumpled in the dirt. The man is definitely not Dmitri, and the woman…the woman is me.
“Nothing. I told you the truth.” I shake my head, trying to understand.
“Heart rate spiked, indicating a lie,” Komarov whispers.
“Of course my heart rate spiked!” I snap. “This is…impossible.”
“How did you survive the fall, Lena?” Kian interrogates me. “Those are extensive injuries, even for a magica who had been fully fed.”
“I didn’t…I didn’t fall,” I say, repeating my truth. “I climbed down the ravine and found Dmitri at the bottom. I called the paramedics. It was night. It was raining.”
Cal takes my hand again and calmly explains, “No, Lena, there were no outgoing calls anywhere near the location of the ravine that night. It was called in by a woman on an afternoon hike.”
“No. I’m not the Jane Doe. I can’t be.” I look into their eyes, pleading for them to tell me it isn’t true. My recurring nightmare of the warped night of Dmitri’s death comes rushing back to me.
I am standing at the top of the mining ravine.
The wind whips through my hair, cold rain soaking my clothing.
“Dmitri! Where are you?” I scream. I know I have to climb down.
I take a timid step and then another toward the edge.
The wind swirls around me, carrying the metallic scent of blood.
“Dmitri! You promised!” I shriek down into the canyon.
A scream rips from my throat when a forceful shove at my back sends me into the abyss.
And then pain. Limb-shattering, heart-stopping, organ-exploding pain.
“It was real? It can’t be, I climbed down, I saw him. Crushed and bloody and empty of life,” I say, pleading to Cal, as my watery vision blurs.
“Dmitri wasn’t at the bottom of that ravine. You were. You and some unidentified man.” Kian’s voice is echoing, as if it is miles away. “So I ask again. What are you not telling us?”
I shake my head. “No. Is he…could he be…?” I push out of my seat, standing and then stalking toward the door. “I have to go.”
“You can’t go.” Boden’s already blocking my exit, grabbing my arm. I try to shake him off. “We’re not done here.”
They all circle me. The space is too small. This room, this house, this realm—it’s all too small, and cold, and crowded.
“Get off me!” I yell, and the creature in my diaphragm lashes out. Its many heads sinking fangs into each of the royals. I grab onto my snake-like monster and push. They all yell in a tidal wave of pain as they’re thrown back.
And I do what I do best. I run.