Chapter 28 #2
He took my hand, lifting it to his mouth. It was all I could do not to rip it away.
Montego intervened smoothly. “Olivia lost a necklace here the other night. She was in attendance at the masquerade.”
Costa didn’t let go. Instead, his fingers lingered, pressing too firmly, his grip a silent threat.
“Was she?” Costa’s voice oozed amusement. “A pity I didn’t get to partake.”
A slithering revulsion crawled up my spine. My smile was ice—cold, brittle, and empty.
Beside me, Roman simmered with barely controlled rage.
Costa’s dark gaze skewered me. “How did you make it out alive?”
“We rushed to Montego’s waiting carriage,” Roman said, stepping forward. His presence was solid and unwavering. He removed my hand from Costa’s grip with quiet force.
Costa sneered. “The gods must love you.”
Montego, ever the diplomat, smoothly interjected. “Olivia believes she lost a necklace at the party. Have you come across any misplaced jewelry?”
Costa studied me, his expression unreadable but calculating. “You lost a necklace, you say?”
“Yes,” I murmured, watching my husband’s profile as he kept himself in check. “It was a gift from Queen Elizabeth.”
Costa’s lips curled in condescension. “The Queen, you say? And how is Her Royal Highness?”
I shrugged, forcing an air of casual confidence as I sifted through my memory for details. “She fears the French plan to invade England and put her Catholic cousin, Mary, Queen of Scots, on the throne. She worries so.”
I met Costa’s gaze head-on, letting him see the challenge in my eyes. Thank you, high-school history.
His smirk faltered and was replaced by annoyance. He had hoped to catch me in a lie. Instead, I had thrown his test back at him.
His gaze darkened. “What brings you to Italy?”
Roman’s grip on my hand tightened ever so slightly. “My wife and I are explorers. We travel the world in search of notable artifacts.”
He tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow and smiled at me.
I matched his smile. “Yes, and we’ll be returning home soon.”
Costa tilted his head. “And where is home?”
“Great Britain,” Roman answered without hesitation.
I nodded, pressing the lie further. “I’m sure the Queen will want to see us again. Imagine how distressed she’ll be if I arrive at court without the necklace she gifted me.”
Costa narrowed his eyes, studying Roman and me like a predator sizing up prey. Then, he licked his lips. “By all means, then. Let’s see if your necklace has been recovered.”
Roman and I exchanged a fleeting, uneasy glance before falling in step behind him.
Montego sauntered beside Costa, engaging him in idle conversation.
We crossed the courtyard—still intact despite the devastation—and entered the villa.
The moment we stepped inside, the stench hit me. Rotting bodies. Charred wood. The rancid mix clogged my throat. I gripped Roman’s arm, pressing my hand over my mouth to keep from gagging.
How the men moved through this horror so calmly was beyond me.
We trekked deeper inside, the burned remnants of the estate looming to our right.
Costa led us upstairs, his boots clicking against the marble floors.
Where was it? My pulse thundered as my eyes darted around his office, scanning every surface, searching.
Costa, ever the host, made a show of his surroundings. “You have many interesting illustrations here, Count Costa,” I noted, gripping a Belladonna sketch.
His gaze slithered to me. “Do I?”
“Yes.” I traced the elegant ink strokes. “Do you have an interest in gardening?”
Costa’s smirk was serpentine. “Plant life has always fascinated me.”
A shiver danced down my spine.
With a flourish, he stooped, retrieving a small wooden chest. “I’ve stored the recovered jewels here.” He procured a key from his pocket and slid it into the lock. With a quiet click, the lid lifted, revealing a trove of glittering treasures. “Do you see your necklace?”
I sifted through the fine pieces, my fingers gliding over cold gemstones until I spotted an emerald and diamond necklace. “Yes, I believe this is mine.”
Costa’s eyelids lowered.
Then, he unsheathed a dagger from his belt.
Oh, shit. Oh, shit, oh, shit.
My dagger.
I kept my expression smooth, but my heart pounded so violently I was sure he could hear it.
Costa, watching me like a hawk, slid the blade’s deadly tip into the wooden chest, hooking the necklace on its sharp edge.
He lifted it toward me, the dagger gleaming as the emeralds dangled from its tip. “This one?”
I forced my fingers to steady as I plucked the necklace free. “Yes, that’s certainly mine.”
“Pity,” Costa mused. “I had hoped to keep this piece.”
He ran his fingers over the dagger’s hilt in a reverent motion.
“My God, what an exquisite knife,” Roman said, his voice carrying just enough intrigue to sound convincing.
Costa smirked, twisting the weapon between his hands. “Isn’t it? I found it in my office. Imagine my surprise—someone trespassed without my consent.”
He turned the blade over, his tone deceptively casual.
“More concerning,” he continued, “I also found several of my men with their throats slit. Who would do such a thing at a gala like mine?”
His tongue flicked over his incisor, a calculated movement. Then, he asked—almost offhandedly— “Have you heard of the Timebornes? The Timebounds?”
His expression was unreadable.
Roman barely hesitated. “We might have heard of them in our travels.” He turned to me. “Olivia, do those names ring any bells?”
I frowned, feigning thought. “Not that I recall.”
Before Costa could press, Montego let out a long-suffering sigh and waved a hand. “I’m afraid our friend here is obsessed with the Timebornes and Timebounds.”
Costa’s nostrils flared. “They deserve to be purged from the planet.”
A shudder ran through me at the venom in his voice.
“What did they do to you?” I asked, my voice neutral.
His sneer was razor-sharp. “They exist. That’s all the motivation I need.”
Without breaking eye contact, he slid my dagger back into his sheath. “Imagine my delight when I discovered a Timebound at my masquerade. Can you believe that? What kind of imbecile would walk into a den of Timehunters?”
“One who didn’t know your rules,” Roman surmised.
Costa ignored him, turning his attention to Montego. “You must join us, Montego. We could use a man of your stature.”
Montego let out a laugh, waving the suggestion off. “Come, come. I’m an old man—nearly seventy-two.”
Costa’s grin widened. “And yet, you handled those females so well. The sounds alone told me everything. The moans, the cries—my God, Montego, you can still give a mind-blowing orgasm at your age. No doubt they’d be talking about you if they were still alive.”
Costa clapped Montego on the back, his words dripping with dark amusement.
Montego sighed heavily, shaking his head. “It’s a shame they were lost in the fire.” He met Costa’s gaze, his expression carefully blank. “Nevertheless, thank you for the offer, Count Costa. We’ve had this discussion many times, and my answer remains the same—I must decline.”
“Pity,” Costa said, snapping the lid of the wooden chest shut and locking it. A sly glint flickered in his eyes.
His gaze slid to Roman. “Would you like to go hunting with me?”
Roman hesitated, just for a fraction of a second.
“No, thank you. I’m afraid we must be on our way.” He extended his hand. “Your party was magnificent. I’m deeply sorry it ended in tragedy. We’ll never forget our time here.”
Costa clasped his hand, his grip firm, his cold stare slithering over Roman like a predator sizing up its prey. Then, his gaze settled on me. A creeping chill ran down my spine.
He didn’t buy our story.
Riding back to Malik’s in Montego’s coach, the count stretched out comfortably. “How wonderful that you got your necklace back. It looks like a fine piece.”
I tightened my grip around the jewels. “I’m so relieved.”
Montego shook his head. “Costa is strange about that order of his. All this nonsense about Timebornes and Timebounds. Utter folly, if you ask me.”
“Indeed,” Roman murmured, staring out the window at the endless stretch of night. He absently pulled my hand into his lap, his fingers tracing my knuckles.
Montego sighed. “I’ll drop you at Malik’s and have my manservant bring your things in the morning. It’s a shame you must leave so soon—I’ve enjoyed your company.”
Roman turned to him. “Thank you. You have been most generous with your hospitality.”
Montego waved a hand. “Think nothing of it. It’s been my pleasure.”
The rest of the ride passed in tense silence.
Malik stood outside his estate, waiting. A torch cast low lights over his face, making him look more enigmatic than ever.
Roman helped me down from the carriage, and after bidding Montego farewell, we approached Malik.
His gaze flicked between us. “What happened at Costa’s?”
I exhaled in irritation. “He has the dagger on him. We couldn’t retrieve it.”
Roman crossed his arms. “We gave him a ruse—told him we’re explorers hunting for artifacts.”
“And that we’re leaving immediately,” I added.
Malik rubbed his jaw, his expression unreadable. “Good. None of us can stay behind—it’s too dangerous. I’ll find a way to get the dagger back.”
Hope surged through me.
Then Malik’s gaze darkened. “But we must move west. The Moon Dagger must be found.”
I pressed my fingers to my temples, exhaustion creeping in. “That’s the plan.”
“Montego will send your belongings in the morning. By then, we’ll have a strategy in place.” Malik turned, striding toward the estate.
Roman and I followed.
Once again, I was on the run.
But this time, my dagger was in the hands of a mortal enemy—and the stakes had never been higher.