Kiss of the Dragon (29 page)

Theron raced up the stairs, only slowing as he neared the
second level of the keep to listen for footsteps ahead of him. On the stairs
above, he could hear the light tread of booted feet taking the steps quickly.
Theron moved up the steps as quiet as a cat, slowing occasionally to listen
intently before he moved forward. When he made the fourth level of the keep he
peered around the stair railing to see the hem of a black cloak disappear
through a doorway down the corridor, the door clicking closed after it.

Hesitating for but a moment, Theron crept on silent feet,
his hand sliding along the cold stone wall. He had been on this floor several
times, but the memory of the last time still gave him chills. He had
accompanied his friend, Paul, who worked in the kitchen when he had been sent
to deliver firewood to that very same room. At the time, he had thought it a
lark to have the run of the Great Keep but he was quickly disillusioned.

As he waited outside the door while Paul crept in and
quickly dropped the wood near the fireplace and bolted for the door. He had
grabbed Theron’s hand and pulled him down the stairs as fast as their feet
would carry them. When they were safely hidden in the storeroom beneath the
kitchen, a breathless Paul had explained why he had rushed them away from that
particular room. There in the safety of the darkness beneath a heavy wooden
table Paul had related a strange tale about the duchess being a witch. He said
that she would occasionally use young boys in her strange rituals, cutting off
their fingers and toes to make her witches’ brew. And if a boy was fortunate
enough to escape her with those intact, he would be forever cursed by the evil
eye she placed on him. As they squatted in the dark, shivering by the horrid
thought, Theron was not sure whether to believe his friend. But Paul had
assured him that he had it on the good authority of Marie, who was the
chambermaid of that level of the keep. It had been later, when Theron had
actually met Marie, he realized she was only trying to scare Paul with her
tales to keep him in his place.

That was why Theron had not hesitated about making his way
down the corridor now. He did not stop until he was right outside the door.
With great caution, he stepped close and placed his ear to the keyhole and
strained to hear what was being said on the other side of the door.

* * * * *

“Dear God in Heaven! What have you gone and done? You
imbecile!” The harsh reprimand was tinged with shock at what Heloise had just
witnessed. Even as the words left her mouth, her mind worked to discover a
means to cover up the deed that her companion had performed with startling
precision and brutality.

“What was I supposed to do, Heloise? I had no choice. Would
you rather that the little whelp had prattled on us? You know that he would
have run straight to that blasted Black Dragon and told him what he had
learned. He is the bastard’s little page, after all. If that occurred, what
would have happened to your plotting and scheming?” Standing negligently
against the wall next to the door, wiping the blood from his dagger, he watched
distractedly through heavy-lidded eyes as the duchess frantically worked to
clean up the blood that now stained the floor of her private chambers.

“You could have chosen a less messy means to achieve the
same end.”

“Perhaps you could recommend a good poison.”

His sarcastic barb hit home as the buxom noblewoman flushed
red and then lost all color as she realized that her partner in crime knew more
than she would have liked. Heloise, Duchess de Neige, could not afford to be
connected to a murder at this point in her schemes. She shot him a look that
said more than words how much she disliked his sarcasm.

“Do not use that tone of voice on me, boy. I have managed
very well up to this point without…this.” She waved her hand at the dark stain
on the floor.

“I would have thought that by now you would appreciate a
quick end to a problem. Poison is such a slow way to rid oneself of
an…obstacle. Do you not agree?” The sly evil smirk on his face bothered
Heloise. She was not one to scare easily but his unspoken meaning left her
uneasy. “We do not have the luxury of time to take care of the little sneak the
way you have been taking care of the Duke. We needed to silence him quickly.
The little bastard had his ear to the keyhole listening to every word of your
scheme. You are fortunate that I opened the door before he got away. He would
have gone straight to the Dragon and we would be in the dungeon,” he reminded
her.

“Yea,” she agreed reluctantly. “But you must know that I
hate it when you are right,” she grumbled as she went back to mopping up the
pool of blood. The vision in her mind of the way he had grabbed the small boy
and dragged him into the room only to stab him mercilessly haunted her as she
went through the motions of cleaning up the evidence. Heloise was a vicious,
manipulative schemer, but she had never had to watch anyone murdered in her
presence. It was unnerving to say the least. She would have to avoid such
disturbing scenes in the future.

* * * * *

“GALEN!”

The loud bellow had Bianca hesitating on the steep, twisting
stairs as she descended from the healer’s rooms. Her own ailments were
forgotten in that moment asthe
outrage in the voice below her sent a cold wave of apprehension sluicing down
her spine. She recognized the voice as belonging to Draco, but the trepidation
that hung on that one word echoing up the stair had her dreading what was to
come. He materialized on the steps just below her, in his arms the cause of his
torment. He cradled the still body of young Theron against his chest.

“Oh, God! What happened?!” Bianca’s anguish mirrored Draco’s
as she stepped aside to let him pass, the child held protectively in his arms.
She followed them, her own miserable state of health forgotten. By the time she
caught up with Draco, he was already taking orders from Galen.

“Lay the child on the table. Carefully now,” Galen
commanded. He kept his voice even, attempting to still the anxiety of the large
nobleman and distraught woman who followed him. The healer then proceeded to
issue commands keeping them occupied with small tasks while he discerned the
state of the boy who was covered in his own blood, barely breathing. Even as he
worked, he questioned Lord Draco.

“Who did this?”

“It is not known. He was found behind the stables covered in
a thin layer of refuse. One of the stable lads cleaning out the stalls happened
across him.” Draco took a deep breath as he glanced at Bianca out of the corner
of his eye. “He has been stabbed in the back several times.” His words were
hard and grating. He would have liked to protect his lady from this horror but
he was not in the frame of mind to be gentle. He could not hide his disgust for
whoever had committed this inhumanity. He could not take his gaze from the
deathly white face of his new page. The boy was an innocent and someone would
pay for this. He vowed it!

“Who would do such a thing, Draco?” Bianca’s trembling voice
cut through his thoughts of revenge. She had stood at his side from the moment
he placed Theron on the table and now she placed her small hand on his thick
forearm, her violet gaze pinning him, looking for solace and assurance.

“I do not know, but by God, when I find the villain who did
this atrocious deed, he will wish that his father had never met his mother,” he
grated through clenched teeth. Beneath her fingers, the thick muscles of his
arm bulged as his hands fisted. The fury of the Black Dragon burned hot beneath
his barely contained control.

For the first time since Bianca met Draco, she began to
understand how he had attained his dangerous reputation. As she stood at his
side watching the hatred in his icy black eyes, a shiver of fear raced down her
spine. It was not for her that she was concerned. She knew without a doubt that
he would never harm her, even though his dark eyes glowed with a feral blaze as
he tried to contain the immense power of his anger.

“The boy still breathes, my lord.” Galen’s soft voice broke
through the tension. “It is very shallow, but steady.” His hands moved over his
small patient as he determined the extent of his injuries. Galen was diligent
about his business. He worked to stanch the slow flow of blood from the wounds
as he listened and prodded about the child’s chest.

“Will he live, Galen?” Draco asked in a near whisper.

“He will unless his wounds fester. Fortunately the knife did
not hit anything vital.”

After what seemed like hours, Galen finally made his
diagnosis.

“The worst cut is deep. The blade glanced off his young
bones in several other places saving him from worse injury. No vital organs
were damaged, but his cuts and bruises will take a long while to heal. As for
his mind,” Galen shrugged his shoulders and a tear crept down his face as he
gazed down at the small boy, “he will have to awake before we will know how
this affected him.”

The old healer shook his head in disgust. “Whoever did this
has a very black heart. He meant for this boy to die. If by chance the villain
finds out that Theron survives, another attempt could be made. I would suggest
putting guards at the door and informing the duke that there is a murderer
within the grounds of the castle.” He then glanced up, spearing them with his
pale blue eyes. “But then we already know that, do we not?”

With a nod and a look of dark determination in his eyes,
Draco left the room. The man was on a mission, and nothing would stop him from
achieving his objective.

With a heart filled with trepidation, Bianca followed him.
They made it on to the small landing outside the room before he stopped and
turned to confront her with his soft-spoken request. “Stay with the child,
Bianca. Keep watch over him while I look into this business. Come for me the
moment his condition changes…one way or the other.” He brushed the back of his
knuckles down over the soft curve of her cheek, a deep yearning momentarily
flickering through his dark eyes.

“I must go.”

“Draco,” her voice pleaded as it echoed through the darkened
corridor. When he glanced back, she whispered her enjoinder, “Be careful, my
lov…my lord.”

His curt nod was his only acknowledgment that he had heard
her before he turned and disappeared down the stairs.

Returning to the Galen’s surgery was the most difficult
thing Bianca had ever had to do. The sight of Theron, lying so still on the
table, was almost her undoing. Who could do such a thing, especially to an
innocent child? It brought tears to her eyes, but she resolutely wiped them
away. She would stand strong for Draco and do what she could to see that this
boy he had taken into his protection would survive and flourish in the new life
he had been gifted with.

* * * * *

Bianca slept in a chair next to the pallet on which Theron
lay. His small hand was tucked safely within her own, as if with that small
measure of contact she could keep him in this world. Galen had worked long and
hard, doing everything in his power to heal the child. He had finally left for
a while to see to his other patients. He left Bianca and Fate to watch over
Theron. He would survive his injuries if fever or some other complication did
not take his fragile life. So they had set up a schedule and Bianca was to take
the first shift.

That was where Heloise found her. The heart-wrenching
depiction that she came upon when she entered the healer’s chambers did not
even cause a twinge of regret or hint of guilt. The only emotion that flickered
in those cold pale orbs was loathing.

In her twisted mind, even as she seethed with jealously and
hatred for her beautiful stepdaughter, the Duchess de Neige reasoned that if
she had ever had a child of her own, she would have wanted a daughter, one as
beautiful as Bianca. With such a daughter, she would have been the envy of
every matron at court for having produced such a beauty.

Her daughter would have drawn the attention of every
nobleman in the kingdom even perhaps the king himself. Heloise smiled at the
thought. Then as her delicious daydreams cleared from her mind, her eyes
focused once again on the scene before her.

Resentment for her husband’s daughter flared hot as she
gazed upon the silky blue-black hair, the soft rose-red lips and the lush body
that curved in all the right places to make any man’s mouth water with desire.
She would do everything in her power to remove this obstacle from her path.

After all, a woman of her age could not afford to lose the
attention of her husband to another woman, even if that woman was her
stepdaughter. Heloise had barely secured the Duke de Neige for her husband in
the first place. It had taken much scheming and manipulation to achieve her
goal of becoming a duchess. And now she meant to assure her station in this
society, no matter what it took. And her first task was to rid herself of one
useless stepdaughter by one means or another.

It was with this cold determination in her mind and ice in
her veins that she strolled across the room and stood over the two innocents as
they slept.

“Get up, Bianca. You should not be here. Leave the boy to
Galen’s care.” She startled Bianca with her harsh voice. “Look at him. He is
filthy. Come away at once I say. A noblewoman should not be touching such
filth.”

Bleary-eyed, Bianca slowly raised her head. The fine hairs
on her arms and the back of her neck rose as a chill of warning swept over her.
She gently placed Theron’s hand at his side before rising from her chair, not
for the reasons her stepmother had given. She needed to move this discussion
outside the room, so that the child would not be disturbed in slumber. She
moved past Heloise, walking to the door and down the stairs. In the corridor
below, she stopped and turned to confront the woman.