Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Is he okay?” Sophia cocked her head to the side, studying Eric.
He was sitting on the floor of the dungeon cell, head against the wall, eyes closed.
“He’s fine. He just needs a minute.” Nikolett turned back to the crowd in the dungeon hallway. It wasn’t everyone from upstairs, just a select few people she trusted or knew Eric trusted.
“Why does he need a minute?” Antonio asked, peering at Eric.
Regina raised her brows. “You told him?”
“Yes,” Nikolett answered.
“Told him…” Sophia asked impatiently.
“I think the Spaniard is Eric’s brother.”
Sophia was the first to recover, eyeing Nikolett before smiling. “You have a type.”
Nikolett snorted, though it was half horror, half amusement. “Apparently I do.”
“Why do you think that?” Antonio asked in his grim way.
“The first time I met Gus, he reminded me a little of Eric. If we took a picture of Eric when he was younger and made his hair dark, I think it would look like Gus.”
Antonio eyed her. “There has to be more than that.”
She nodded. “They both had a terrible father.”
Antonio and Sophia exchanged a look.
“Terrible in the same way,” Nikolett amended. “A man who didn’t seem to think of children, his children, as real people.”
Again, not unique since her own father could also be put in that category. She wished she had more evidence to go with this bone-deep certainty.
“Gus told me that his father named him Angus McAngus, and then later admitted it was meant as a joke. He didn’t care about his child enough to give him a real name.”
“Eric’s name is a joke too?” Grigoris asked.
“No,” Eric said without opening his eyes. “Or maybe it was meant to be, but it’s a perfectly normal name. However, my biological father would absolutely have named a child something he thought was stupid.”
“Your father was Scottish?”
“No, he was Swedish.”
“There are a lot of things that don’t add up,” Antonio said slowly, as if reluctant to debunk her theory.
“If he was an illegitimate child, he might resent Eric for being legitimate, and being treated better,” Sophia mused.
“My biological father was a part of my parents’ trinity, but not a part of our lives. He wasn’t the man who raised me.” Eric finally opened his eyes. “He didn’t treat me well, didn’t treat me badly. My parents didn’t let him near me for most of my life.
“From what I do know about him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had affairs and simply abandoned any children who resulted from those.”
“They have the same blood type,” Regina added. “Nikolett asked me to check just after the crash. I was able to save some still-wet bloody gauze from when Eric broke his nose and sent it to be tested. B negative.”
“A rarer blood type,” Sophia said, “but not conclusive.”
“We’ll need a sample for a DNA test.”
“Getting a sample means getting him in custody.” Eric rose, making his way out of the cell. “We’re already hunting him.” Everyone nodded.
Nikolett arched a brow at him.
Eric sighed. “And someone work on this theory that he’s my long-lost brother because it’s so fucking ridiculous it’s probably true.”
“Any other thoughts on who he might be?” Sophia asked Nikolett. “You have the best instincts when it comes to our current adversary.”
“Thank you for the compliment, but I don’t. I was going to marry him.”
“But you didn’t,” she said simply. “And you were the first one to pose the idea that Angus might be the Spaniard. You were right about that, and I think we should assume you’re right about this.
Instead of trying to prove it, we try to disprove it.
If no one can definitively disprove that Angus is Eric’s brother, then we move forward with that as our working theory for why he’s targeting Eric. ”
Nikolett blinked, shocked that Sophia was willing to base the battle plan on her instincts.
“I still want people searching for him,” Eric said, nudging Nikolett toward the stairs. “Also, we need to get out of here. It’s cold and damp.”
“You’re the one who brought me down here,” she protested as everyone took the hint and headed for the stairs. After her bombshell announcement, Eric had sat down and refused to get up, hence her bringing more people down here for this talk.
“I forgot the old storage rooms and collapsed tunnels make this place too wet and drafty to be usable.” Eric pointed to a half-fallen arch tucked under the stone stairs. “If we seal that up, we might have a working dungeon.”
“You could just get some kink equipment for the bedroom like normal people,” Sophia pointed out.
“It’s not a kink, it’s a relationship strategy,” Eric told her archly.
Nikolett knew she was blushing as they walked single file through the narrow stairwells and halls.
Antonio ignored the byplay. “We need to make a list of things that don’t make sense about the brother theory and try to answer those questions. Like why a Swedish man would give his half-Spanish child a Scottish name.”
“That’s assuming his mother is Spanish,” Regina countered.
A loud horn sound echoed in the stone hallway, making everyone jump. It sounded less like an alarm and more like a ship’s horn.
“Fuck. Weather alert from the Emergency Planning Unit.” Eric pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapping the screen to make the blaring stop.
Regina pulled her own phone out, also tapping the screen. “I didn’t get an alert.”
Nikolett opened her mouth to say something, but the look on Eric’s face froze the words in her throat.
“Go,” Eric snarled. “Everyone go.”
Regina pulled a gun from inside her jacket. “What’s happened?”
“Go,” he snapped. “I need a minute with Nikolett.”
Dread settled in her, heavy and grim.
Everyone exchanged a glance, and then Regina hustled them out of the hallway back toward the Great Room. Grigoris glanced at Nikolett once, waiting for her to nod before allowing himself to be led away.
Wordlessly, Eric pulled her back the way they’d come, until they were sequestered in a smaller hall.
Eric studied her and leaned back against the wall. “I don’t want to watch this without you, but I don’t know if you should watch it.”
“Watch what?” It took her only a moment to guess what it was Eric had just received. “He sent you a video.”
“Yes.”
“Of…of what happened that night?” She’d worked hard not to think about those missing hours when she’d been “drunk” and alone with him.
“I think so. I only…I only saw the cover image. You’re lying on a bed.”
Nikolett met Eric’s gaze. “I don’t think I had too much wine.” She tried to smile, but failed.
He looked raw, his gaze constantly, anxiously searching her face. “I don’t think so either. He drugged you.”
“And then…” She looked at his phone, wishing for all the world that she, they, didn’t have to watch a video to learn how to end that sentence.
“I can delete the video,” he said softly. “If you don’t want to know, then we delete it.”
“Don’t you want to know?”
“Not unless you want me to. Nothing about it will change how much I love you, and I’m already going to kill him slowly.”
Nikolett let out a soft laugh then leaned into him for a hug. Eric held her, and the soft trembling that had overtaken her subsided.
“Audio,” she said softly. “What if we just listen? I don’t think…I don’t think I’m ready to watch myself be sexually assaulted.”
Eric squeezed her, his breath hitching before he slowly exhaled.
He hit play.
Soft breathing. The rustle of fabric.
Nikolett pressed her face hard into Eric’s chest.
A man’s voice, Gus’ voice, murmuring shhh.
“Please.”
Nikolett cringed at the sound of her own voice, the word slightly slurred.
“What was that, lass?”
“Please, Eric.”
Eric’s chest started to shake. Was he…
Nikolett pushed back. “Are you laughing?”
He tried and failed, to stop his lips from twitching. “I’m just enjoying the fact that I’ve ruined you for other men.”
The video continued to play, no more words, only the rustle and slide of fabric, but it was forgotten as she stared at him, relief mingled with irritation.
“Oh my God, Eric. That’s… You’re…”
“I’m just that good, baby.”
Then a clear voice startled them.
“I’ll take and abuse everything you love, Eric.”
Eric jerked the phone up, staring at it. For a wild moment, she thought it had somehow switched to a video call.
It wasn’t a video call, but voiceover on the video, clearly added later. Eric had raised the phone in response to the clear voice, which meant they were both looking at his screen. Nikolett got to watch as fingers trailed along her bare breast…then wrapped around her throat.
Eric started to lower the phone, but Nikolett put her hand on his forearm, stopping him. He was watching her, she could feel it, but she was watching the video. She didn’t want to, but she would. There was a reason he’d sent this video, and it had been foolish to hope she could avoid it.
His hands moved over her bare body, and tears of shame and embarrassment stung her eyes as Nikolett not only didn’t stop him but moved under him, shifting to give him access.
The view pulled back as Gus stood.
Glasses, the camera must have been in his glasses. She remembered him having a glasses case in his pocket.
On screen, she lay naked on her hotel bed, eyes closed.
Helpless. Vulnerable.
The same bed where she’d had sex with Eric.
The same bed where she’d woken up in her pajamas with no memory of putting them on.
The video switched to a lovely picture of Triskelion Castle.
Except Triskelion Castle wasn’t in the foreground. It was only half visible off to one side. The focus was on the large farmhouse where the Spartan Guard lived.
“Fuck,” Eric breathed. “Fuck.” He took off running.
Nikolett needed a moment, just a moment, to process what had happened to her. It was possible, maybe probable, that there was more, worse, on the video, but she’d seen enough.
She was still standing in the narrow stone hall when the earthquake struck.
Gus’ head jerked up when he heard the scream.
The bomb he’d used to destroy the Spartan Guard house had rattled Triskelion Castle more than he anticipated. He probably should have waited until after the first bomb to sneak into Triskelion and arm the second, much larger bomb, but timing was everything.
Then he heard Nikolett scream.
Ducking out of the half-crumbled cellar, which in turn connected to a series of forgotten tunnels, Gus rushed up the stone stairs.
Nikolett was crouched in a narrow hall, hands over her head. A few pieces of old stone had been shaken loose from the walls by the blast. This hallway should be structurally sound, but a sudden, horrible vision of heavy gray stones collapsing on top of Nikolett had him rushing into the hall.
It made no sense, he’d acknowledge that, but he needed to save her.
Not that she was in any immediate danger.
Not for the next thirty minutes at least.
Gus scooped her into his arms, carrying her quickly down into what had probably once been a dungeon, based on the barred openings on the doors.
Since the last time he’d been here, someone had added new chains to the wall in the cleanest cell.
The cuffs at the end of the chain were quick-release leather kink cuffs rather than steel cuffs or dungeon-appropriate thick manacles.
Unsure where else to take her, Gus brought her into the cell, setting Nikolett on her feet.
The instant he set her down, his gaze slid to the bandages peeking out the top of her shirt. She stared at him, expression blank with what was probably shock.
He traced the neckline of her shirt with one finger.
“Ho sento, querida.”
Nikolett hauled her arm back and slapped him. It took him by surprise, and she hit him hard enough that his ear rang.
“You piece of shit rapist son of a whore,” she snarled in Hungarian.
Gus rubbed his jaw, studying her out of the corner of his eye as the soft emotion that had bid him scoop her up and carry her to safety melted away.
“You should be afraid of me,” he said in the same language. “Especially if you saw the little video I made of you.”
Hurt and fear flashed in her gaze, and he hated himself.
She raised her hand again, but this time he caught her wrist.
She spit on him instead. “I don’t respect you enough to fear you.”
Gus’ lip curled and he wiped his cheek on his shoulder.
Then he squeezed her wrist until pain made her cheek twitch. If he wanted to, he could probably break her wrist just from this.
“Why?” she demanded through her teeth.
He knew what she was asking, but decided she hadn’t earned an answer.
Since someone had helpfully retrofitted this dungeon cell, he decided to make use of it. Catching one of the chains, he brought the cuff toward her wrist.
She fought him, managing to rake her nails across his face—dangerously close to his eye—as she screamed.
The rage that drove him, that horrible dark heat that made it impossible for him to find peace, took over. Gus grabbed her neck with his free hand and squeezed as he forced her back against the wall.
She tried to scream, but he squeezed tighter.
He leaned in. “There’s no point in screaming. They’re all busy looking for survivors.”
“You’re sure no one was in there?” Eric said for the fourth time.
“Yes. Everyone is accounted for.” Regina’s voice was weak and shaky with relief.
Side-by-side, they stared at what was left of the Spartan Guard house. Two stories of old stone with newly remodeled and retrofitted touches were currently a pile of rubble with a cloud of dust floating above it.
If anyone had been inside, he doubted they would have survived the collapse. Worse, if they somehow did manage to survive in a stable pocket, Eric doubted they’d have a way to get them out in time.
But Regina had called every member of the Spartan Guard to Triskelion the moment she left the dungeon. She’d held a briefing to bring everyone up to speed on the brother theory, then started assigning tasks.
That meant no one, not even the people technically off duty today, had been inside.
“He warned me,” Eric said. “The Spaniard sent me a video with a picture of the Spartan Guard house. I was trying to sound the alarm when the bomb went off. I don’t think…I don’t think there would have been time for me to get to the alarm panel. Even if we watched it right away.”
“He didn’t intend for you to have enough time to actually warn us.” Regina shook her head. “In the past, he’s hurt but not killed. I think now…”
“This is endgame,” Eric said grimly, and Regina nodded.
Together, they made their way back into the castle. Everyone—all the members of the Spartan Guard and the guests from each of the territories—were gathered in the Great Hall.
Expressions that had been determined and defiant only hours before were now marked with fear.
Every face but one.
Eric scanned the crowd again, then snapped his attention to Grigoris. “Where’s Nikolett?”