Cursed Kiss (Paranormal Romance) (5 page)

Mouth watering, she licked her lips.

"I knew you'd be hungry," Pablo said. "Your body's craving food to replenish itself."

That was a strange way of putting it, but she was hungrier than usual.

Okay, change of plan. She had time for a quick bite to eat before she left. And maybe she could find out what had caused her to pass out.

Pablo slid the tray onto a small table near the window. Clare grabbed a
pain au chocolat
and bit into the flaky pastry as Pablo poured some coffee.

After a few mouthfuls, she managed a question. "What happened to me last night? I don't remember much about dinner."

Pablo didn't answer, his attention focused on the door. "Look. I have gifts for you." Two men weighed down with bags and boxes bearing designer names struggled into the room. Pablo directed them to lay their burdens on the bed and leave.

He'd mentioned ordering clothes for her but this was way over the top, even if she had intended to stay here. "This is very kind of you but not necessary. I've decided to head to Paris today."

Pablo glanced at the bag hanging over her shoulder, and worry lines appeared on his forehead. "You can't go yet."

"Look, I might not remember much about last night, but the one thing I do remember clearly is Luka telling me that Taldom's blood comes from a fantasy world." Clare patted her lips with a napkin. "I'm sorry, Pablo. I can see he's not well, and I sympathize with the situation you're in. I've been there. I know it's difficult to deal with people who have delusions. But I haven't time to indulge his wild imaginings right now. I have a business problem to sort out that's time sensitive."

"You don't understand at all." A note of desperation crept into Pablo's voice. "Luka isn't crazy. He needs your help with something important."

She'd been polite, but it was time to put her foot down.

Clare headed for the bedroom door. "Thank you for your hospitality. The house is very beautiful."

Pablo followed. "The château staff members will stop you leaving if I ask them to."

Clare narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge if Pablo were really serious. "I don't respond well to threats,
Señor
. If you're not careful, I'll head straight to the police station."

"Mr. Vlad owns the town, Ms. Moray."

Rich man, small town. Of course he had influence. She hadn't intended to follow through with her threat about the police anyway. All she wanted to do was hop on a train and get to Paris.

Clare strode to the top of the stairs and steadied herself with a hand on the banister. Her legs muscles felt as though all the strength had been drained from them. Whatever had happened to her the previous evening was still affecting her. Even more reason to get the hell out of there.

Pablo called out in French. A moment later, the two men who'd brought the parcels to her room appeared at the bottom of the steps. There was no mistaking their intent—to block her escape. They must be Vlad's security…hard expressions, dark suits, maybe even armed. She had no chance of getting past them.

Anger, frustration, and a touch of fear twisted through her. The possibility that Luka was playing her for financial gain seemed more likely by the minute. Clare rounded on Pablo. "If Vlad thinks he can drive down Moray's share price and make a killing, he's forgetting one thing. I hold most of the shares. I'll take the damn things to my grave before I sell to him."

Pablo blinked at her in surprise. "You think that's what you're here for?"

"It makes sense. You hold me here so I can't find more Taldom's blood. Production of our best-selling product will have to be suspended and the share value will tumble."

"You could not be more wrong."

"Then tell me what's going on. If you don't, I'm going to walk down these stairs and leave, goons or no goons."

"You had better talk to Luka."

Clare followed Pablo down to the next floor and along the corridor. He led her to a door at the end, knocked, and entered.

Luka was sitting at his desk working. His head jerked up as they entered. Anger overcame Clare's fear. She snapped to a halt before his antique desk, her heels clicking on the parquet floor. "I'm giving you one last chance to explain what's going on here, or I'm leaving."

Luka stiffened, his startled gaze riveted to hers. A flash of something that looked like fear passed over his face. Why would he be frightened of her?

His expression took the wind out of her sails. She was angry, sure, but her appearance shouldn't elicit that sort of reaction from the man. Yet he wasn't well. She'd forgotten for a moment and should have taken that into account.

The anger seeped away, leaving her weary. "I'm sorry you have problems, Mr. Vlad, but I don't have time for this. Either tell me where I can find some Taldom's blood, and what I have to do to get it, or let me leave."

"Please give me a moment. You caught me by surprise." Luka topped off his wineglass and swallowed the contents as if it were soda.

Clare's eyebrows crept up. Maybe alcohol was his problem?

"Has anyone mentioned how much you resemble your grandmother?"

"All the time."

"Yet despite the similarity in your appearance, you do not have her edge."

Clare knew exactly what he meant. Monique had hidden her ruthless nature behind a smile, but she would do anything to get what she wanted. Yet only her grandmother's most trusted friends and her victims knew that. Which begged the question, which was Luka?

"I thought you said you'd only met Monique once?"

Luka clicked the lid on his fountain pen and placed it on his desk. "Did I?"

If he'd known Monique well, that put a whole different slant on things. Instead of the stranger she'd thought him to be, he might have a personal agenda. "What's really going on here, Luka?"

"I explained last night about Taldom."

"Yes, well, last night's a bit of a blur."

"You don't remember what I said?"

"Not much." And what she did remember she hoped was a mistake.

With a sigh, he refilled his wine and walked to the window. The crystal glass glowed like a ruby in the morning sun before he downed the contents.

If he were an alcoholic, that might explain his strange behavior last night, along with his looking sick and holing himself up here in the French countryside. Why would a man who had so much going for him do that? "You drink too much, you know."

He laughed without humor. "I have many problems, but wine is not one of them." He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "I'm not of this world, Ms. Moray. I come from Taldom."

"You mentioned that place last night, a fantasy world." She tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "I thought you were joking."

"It's no joke. I need to get home. My body does not function properly here."

"I'm sorry you're not well. I had noticed."

He waved a dismissive hand. "That's not important. What is important is that you believe that Taldom exists." He grabbed a key from his desk drawer. "I'll show you. Follow me."

For a moment Clare didn't move. She didn't have time for this. Although she had to admit a tiny glimmer of curiosity about how he planned to prove his incredible claim.

Luka led her down the wide stone stairs, then along a narrow corridor. Near the end, he stopped at a squat, reinforced metal door, and twisted the key in three locks. He opened the door to reveal a drop of shallow, discolored steps. "Be careful. The stairs are damp in places." He flipped a switch and three dusty bulbs hanging from an exposed wire struggled to chase away the darkness.

Clare peered into the gloom and wondered what she was letting herself in for. Nimbly, Luka ran down the stairs ahead of her. Clare followed cautiously, wrinkling her nose at the stale, damp air.

The stairs finished in a small cylindrical room. Even in the heat of summer, cold seeped from the bare stone walls. The sense of hundreds of tons of rock pressing down from above made her pull her head down. She hugged herself and rubbed her arms for warmth.

Rusting metal rings were anchored in the walls. With a shiver of trepidation, she gazed at the soot-stained metal bars of a grate in a small alcove. Once upon a time, this room must have been a dungeon.

From the corner of her eye she thought she saw movement. When she turned her head, there was nothing to see. Her skin prickled and every hair on her body stood on end. She edged closer to Luka as he unlocked a wooden door set in the wall.

As her fingers accidentally brushed his hand, a gentle rushing noise filled her ears. He jerked away from her, his eyes black and impenetrable in the shadows. "Don't touch me."

Cheeks tingling with heat, she stepped away. What was his problem? The man was seriously weird—as if she didn't know that already.

He lifted out of the cupboard a suit of armor on a wooden stand. He laid his palm against the dull metal breastplate. "You wanted proof, well here it is. This is the armor I was wearing when I was summoned across the veil between worlds."

Clare stared at it, strangely disappointed. She fingered the metal and chain mail beneath. It seemed authentic, but that didn't prove a thing. "I've seen old stuff like this in museums."

"There are many similarities between your world and mine."

"So you're telling me you were some kind of medieval knight?" Disbelief laced her words.

"No. My father wanted that for me but I had other plans. Father wouldn't stand for disobedience. When I was sixteen, he sent me out with a raiding party led by my eldest brother. I deserted and ended up here."

His explanation sounded crazy, but he delivered it with such sincerity he obviously thought it was true.

She shouldn't even waste her time asking, but she had to find out how he thought he'd been transported from his sword-and-sorcery world to modern-day Earth. "So how did you end up here?"

"A beautiful woman beckoned me, and I went to her. I didn't realize I was stepping through a portal to Earth."

"A beautiful woman?" Something about his tone and the way he glanced at her set her senses tingling.

"Beautiful on the outside, as you are." He lifted a hand as if he might touch her face but pulled back. "On the inside she was a devil."

A shiver ran down Clare's spine at the pain in his voice. Something terrible had happened to him. She'd put money on it.

"Do you believe me now?" he asked.

Her silence spoke for itself.

He gave a small shrug. "No matter, I have more to show you."

He pointed at a chair in the center of the room. "Sit there and watch the wall. It's a portal between the worlds. If you're patient, you'll see Taldom." She remembered the flicker of movement in her peripheral vision when they'd first come down. The edges of reality blurred, and her stomach dropped away.

***

Recollections of the pain and torment Luka had suffered at Monique's hands simmered just below the surface. He hated coming down to this dungeon and all the horrific memories held between its walls.

He pushed the thoughts away and instead concentrated on how he'd bested her, how he'd traded his blood for his freedom and later this château. The capital he'd raised on this place had given him a toehold in business and he'd found he had a gift for commerce—much to Monique's fury.

But this room still spooked him and he'd rather keep the door locked tight and never venture down here. Yet right now he needed to prove to Clare that Taldom existed. Once she was on his side, he'd show her the library full of arcane books so she could research how to open the portal.

"I'll fetch you some refreshment," he said.

Clare turned wide blue eyes on him. "I'd rather not stay down here alone."

He offered a reassuring smile. "I'll only be a moment. Don't worry, even if you see something through the portal, nobody can come through unless they're summoned."

She glanced at the blank walls, her mouth gaping. "Will people on the other side be able to see me?"

"Possibly. I'll be back in a minute."

He hurried up the narrow stairway and released his breath as sunlight touched his face.