Kiss of the Dragon (33 page)

The angry man pushed his way through the door, storming his
way past her, giving a rude snort at her stupid question. “Do not, Heloise. I
have had all I can take this night.”

“Do not be imprudent, Evgenii. I want to know what happened.
Did you take the little innocent as we planned? I find it hard to believe that
she did this to you. Who would have thought the vain little bitch had it in
her.” Heloise chuckled at the furious look Evgenii shot her direction.

“Get me a drink, old woman. I am not in the mood for your
inquisition right now.” The snarled warning had Heloise backing away from the
furious man. Something had happened, and by the looks of it, Evgenii had taken
quite a beating. Perhaps it would be sagacious to mellow him out with a little
wine.

Heloise moved to the liquor cupboard and poured a cup of red
wine and handed it to him. He tipped the cup up and gulped down the entire
contents without stopping to draw a breath. “More.” He breathed harshly as he
handed the cup back to her and she refilled it. “Leave the bottle.” He meant to
enjoy every swallow of the duchess’s fine wine. This time he merely sipped at
it.

Heloise moved to settle in a comfortable chair near her
hearth to wait for Evgenii to divulge what had happened to him this night. It
was clear that he meant to take his time before doing so.

Evgenii sat drinking his wine staring at nothing as his mind
burned with thoughts of vengeance. As the alcohol warmed his shocked, battered
body, giving him a temporary renewal of spirit, he fantasized about how he
would make the great Dragon suffer for his insult.

Aching and sore in places he did not even want to think
about from the long, torturous climb up the tower wall, then the unexpected
descent and fall at the end, he worked to drown the misery and shame he now
suffered. He glanced at the older woman who sat impatiently waiting for him to
become drunk enough to bend him to her will. She had done it many times before,
but not this time. Heloise, Duchess de Neige, had been holding the reins of
this scheme thus far, but things were about to change.

Evgenii Sokolov had aspirations of his own and Heloise would
not be included in them. He was finished being a noblewoman’s chore boy. He had
heard what had happened to the outlaw she had hired to kidnap and kill her
stepdaughter. The man’s failure cost him his life when she plied him with
poisoned wine. It was then that Heloise had sought out Evgenii, promising to
make him a rich man, one who would be accepted by the aristocracy.

But Evgenii refused to sacrifice his life to follow the mad
ravings of this jealous witch. He wanted no more of her high-reaching schemes
only to receive little for his efforts. This newest plot of hers to get rid of
her stepdaughter would have a twist to it that would undoubtedly enrage Heloise
when she discovered his ambition.

Evgenii had no qualms about taking the opportunity this
noblewoman placed before him and using it to his own benefit. After what he had
experienced this night, Evgenii rationalized that he deserved a rich reward. He
had been truly afraid for his life when he found a sword at his throat. And
then to be forced to climb back down the blasted wall only to have the rope
loosened from above leaving him to drop the remaining distance to the ground.
The rose briars that climbed the outer wall had nearly shredded his clothing by
the time he pulled himself from its midst.

After cursing the great Norman devil for his nasty trick,
Evgenii had scrambled to his feet expecting to find that he would still have to
fight for his life. It almost disappointed him when Baron d’Ensoleille had not
met him in the garden to challenge him. But then he had come to his senses and
he had gathered himself and limped away. But it had not taken long for his
anger to return and it had grown into something tangible by the time he gained
Heloise’s rooms. It galled Evgenii to think that Lord Draco had gone back to
bed laughing no doubt about the fright he had put into a grown man.

“He will not be laughing for long,” he muttered into his
wine cup. One way or another, Evgenii Sokolov would get even with the
overconfident bastard, he vowed it.

“Are you ready to tell me what happened tonight, Evgenii? Or
must I remind you that my future happiness depends on the outcome?”

Evgenii replied without bothering to lift his head from
where it had sunk onto his chest. “Shut up, Heloise. If you nag your husband
half as much, it is no wonder your marriage is a bit shaky. It is a certainty
that getting rid of the young lady is not going to help your plight.”

Evgenii became drunker with each sip he took. He forgot to
whom he spoke, but the sting of her hand connecting with his cheek sobered him
instantly. The blow was a reminder of just how much he hated women of her ilk.
If it were not for Bianca de Neige and everything that came with her, he would
have never been sucked into another of Heloise’s schemes. How could he forget
even for a moment how vicious the older woman could be when she wanted
something badly?

“How dare you, you ungrateful wretch. Remember to whom you
speak! I am a duchess, you gypsy worm. Remember that it was I who found you. It
was I who cleaned you up and dressed you so that you could parade about as a
Russian prince, to be treated as such. And this is how you repay me, with your
boorish contempt? I should have known what associating with your kind would
bring me. The Rom have never brought me anything but trouble.”

“At least my people work hard for what we have. You on the
other hand have always been given everything you desired since you were a babe.
You are pathetic old woman who thinks that the world will end if you have to
compete with a beautiful young woman.”

“We made a bargain, gypsy, and I expect you to keep your
part of the agreement.”

“Your plans for tonight nearly got me killed.”

“What happened?” she asked him for the third time.

“The Baron d’Ensoleille was in the lady’s chambers and she
was not. It was as if he guessed our plans. As if he knew I was going to be
there.” Even as Evgenii thought back to the close disaster that nearly cost him
his life, his hand gripped his cup, denting the sides. “I do not like
surprises, Your Grace.” His mockery was evident in the way he addressed her.
But she chose to ignore it.

“A minor oversight.” She flipped her bejeweled hand in the
air as if his life meant less than nothing. In her opinion, it would not be
hard to find another greedy Rom. After all, the lot of them were very much
alike.

“I will come up with a new scheme. Something more permanent,
I think.”

“What do you have in mind?” Even as Evgenii asked the question,
he raised his hands to his temples and began to massage them. The heavy wine he
had been imbibing was giving him a headache. He closed his eyes and rubbed his
head while Heloise paced the room. After several passes across the floor, her
cry of triumph nearly shot him out of his chair it startled him so much.

“I have it! Be at ease, Evgenii. If we plan this carefully,
the Dragon will be far from his lair when you make your move. Oh, oh, it will
be so simple.” She clapped her hands together like a small child who had just
been offered a sweet treat. “I could not have come up with a better scheme.”
His look of skepticism was not lost to her. “You will not fail this time.
Follow my instructions carefully and that little gypsy progeny will finally be out
of my hair and you will receive your reward and our dealings will be at an
end.”

“What is your plan then?”

A smile of pure malicious delight crossed her face as she
came to sit beside him. She took his nearly empty cup and lifted it to her
lips. She licked the place where his lips had touched before taking a long
drink.

“I will tell you, later, my sweet lover.” And then her lips
were on his as her hands moved to unlace the front of his breeches.

* * * * *

Draco had no doubt that the Russian prince had made a hasty
retreat back to his rooms even without the threat of being skewered. He
chuckled as he made his way down the stairwell. The look on the man’s face had
been priceless just before Draco forced him out the window.

“What do you find so humorous at this ungodly time of the
night, big brother?” Cynric stood in the shadows across the corridor from the
door to Bianca’s new chamber. Draco hesitated as he glanced at the closed door.

“How did you find me?” Draco asked.

“I was told by a little bird who knows how to pleasure a man
most thoroughly.” His wide grin showed his enthusiasm in his newly discovered
pastime. The young scoundrel had made it his duty to bed every maid he could
seduce since he had come into his own this last year. Everywhere they traveled,
Draco had had to drag the boy from some wench’s bed and, on occasion, chased a
wench from his young brother’s blankets when they were on the road. Cynric
seemed never to lack for female companionship. Now he was apparently making the
rounds of the Castle Neige maidservants. Draco shook his head and snorted in
disgust.

“I hope you are being a little more discriminating then you
were at Lorraine. You were fortunate to escape with your man-parts intact when
that serving wench’s new husband discovered you in her bed.”

“Fear not, big brother. I am more careful these days. I have
learned from my past mistakes.” He winked and then chuckled at the stern
expression on Draco’s face. “Do not worry. I have only bedded one maid since we
arrived at Castle Neige.

“What are you doing here this time of the night, or should I
ask?”

“I have news, Draco. This news could not wait until
morning.”

Draco sighed with resignation. He should have known that
spending an entire night wrapped in his lady’s arms would be too much to expect.
With one last glance at Bianca’s door, he took his young brother’s arm and
herded him down the corridor so that their conversation would not disturb her.

“Come, walk with me as you inform me what has happened,”
Draco instructed Cynric as they made their way down the long, winding steps
from the tower room.

“You will not believe it, but I have found the missing
giant, Jabulani.”

Draco stopped so suddenly that his brother toppled into him
and, if Draco had been a smaller man, the two of them would have tumbled down
the remaining steps. As it was, he managed to catch Cynric and steady both of
them. “You found him?”

“Yes, I am most certain that it is him.”

Draco was not happy about the situation. If the giant
bodyguard’s body had been found, Bianca would be heartbroken to finally know he
had been slain. He thrust his hand through his hair in a gesture of weariness.
“In what shape was the body? How cruelly was he killed? Was it swift? Or did
the bastards torture him?”

“No, none of those things happened.” Cynric slashed his hand
through the air in his excitement. “Jabulani is, in fact, alive.”

“Alive?” Draco stared at this young brother in disbelief and
then relief washed over him. It seemed that his fortune had taken a turn for
the good. He would not have to tell Bianca that her friend had been found dead.
He heaved a sigh of relief both for her and for him.

“Where is he, Cynric? Is he here? Did you bring him back to
the castle?”

“No, Draco, I could not. I do not think he wants to be
found. In fact, as far as I could tell, Jabulani has no notion that I saw him.
It was by accident that I did.”

“Where is he?” Draco took hold of his brother by the
shoulders and stared him down; his intense look would have frightened any other
man, but Cynric was used to his ways and his moods. He knew that he was not
actually the target of Draco’s vexation.

“He is even now at the Rom encampment in the north woods. I
was there visiting with a wo…” Cynric stopped his recitation and his face
turned a violent crimson color. He looked everywhere but at his brother’s
thunderous face as he cleared his throat and croaked out the rest of his
explanation. “I saw him entering one of the gypsy’s wagons while I visited one
of the fortune tellers. I saw him later by the campfires. He is not hard to mistake,
Draco, not a giant like Jabulani, smiling as always.”

“Did you find out what he was doing there?”

“No, I was too occupied at first, but it was apparent he was
not there for a visit. The gypsies seemed to accept his presence there as
ordinary.”

“Perhaps we should pay a visit to the Rom camp and seek out
the jolly giant.” Draco started walking again, his face thoughtful as he
reflected on the information that had just been imparted to him.

“Should we not wait until first light, Draco?”

“No, little brother. Surprise will be the ideal method here.
I do not want anyone forewarning the giant that we have discovered his hiding
place. It will serve our best interest if we catch him off guard. He has a lot
of explaining to do and I mean to get the truth from him.” Draco’s thoughts
went to Bianca who had been so devastated by the attack in which she had
thought her servant had been killed. Yea, Jabulani had a lot to answer for and
the Black Dragon was just the one to ask the questions.

“Ah, so you mean to catch him while he sleeps and is off his
guard.”

“Exactly, Cynric. I have learned well in these last few
nights, just how many people try this tactic.” Draco’s wry humor was lost on
his brother.

“And did it work?”

“Well, no, as a matter of fact, it did not.”

“Then why would you think that it would work this time?”

“Because, it was I who guarded the lair at the time and I am
seldom taken unaware.”

Cynric smiled at his brother’s confidence.

“Come, little brother. We have a night’s work ahead of us.”

* * * * *

But as with all great love stories there is always danger.

And for this Knight and his Lady it would arrive in the form
of another,