Immanuel's Veins Read online

  “What did I tell you?” Alek growled. “She wants me.”

  “And she wants the Russian as well.”

  “Only because she doesn’t know me as well as you do, Toma.”

  One of the Russian women was heading our way. She passed Natasha, eyes set on us, as if this were some kind of exchange. Natasha for the Russian temptress.

  “Are you seeing this?” Alek said.

  I stepped away to give him some space with her. I had no interest at all.

  Lucine, the other twin, was making her way down the stairs. Her long dark hair reminded me of that crow on the old man’s shoulder. But this was no crow. In my view she was unquestionably the more beautiful of the two. For that matter, the most beautiful woman I might have yet laid eyes upon. If Natasha wouldn’t warm to his advances, Alek would surely play his games and sweep Lucine off her feet. In all likelihood, he would have them both head over heels within the week.

  Now, I must say that up to this point, in spite of the old man and his crow, my world was well centered. I was simply a man about his duty.

  But that all changed in the next moment.

  Looking back now, I can say the series of incredible events that forever changed my understanding of this ordered world began in earnest in that moment. Though I did not recognize or embrace it then, the axis of this planet surely shifted. The stars reversed their course and sent a spell of love and anguish, tears and laughter into the valley, and I was too thickheaded to yet see it.

  The scent of the Russian woman reached me before she did— sweet musky flowers—and I turned to see that she’d walked right past Alek and had her eyes on me.

  Deep golden eyes that drew me like a warm fire. It’s the only way I can describe the feeling I had first looking into those beautiful eyes. I’m not suggesting that I was interested in her, though any man with blood would be, for this woman, not Lucine, was surely the most beautiful woman in the estate.

  She moved closer, refusing to shift her eyes. The night seemed to slow.

  No, not the night, nor the others in that night, but she. Only she. This vision of beauty seemed to slow right before my eyes while the rest of the courtyard went on. Her arms, the swirl of her black skirt, the bending of her booted legs cutting through the black velvet that hid them so poorly as she walked—it all happened at half pace.

  Thoughts of the black plague filled my mind. I was ill, I thought, feverish, hallucinating. Her tongue traced the bottom of her teeth.

  I blinked, and the world returned to normal.

  “Hello, Toma,” she said in low, breathy voice. “You may call me Sofia.” And then she winked and was past me. She walked through the archway leading into the main room where half the guests were gathered.

  How did she know my name? I glanced at Alek, and to my surprise his eyes weren’t even on me, or her. He was fixated on Lucine, who had stepped off the stairs ahead of us.

  I must have imagined that woman’s voice. Nothing else made sense to me.

  Lucine came to us—to Alek—and although I greeted her as any gentleman might, my mind was still clouded and I hardly heard a word.

  “Would you mind, dear?” Kesia, the mother, said, stepping up behind Lucine. “Would you show our two guests around? I’m sure they have questions, and I have others to attend to. I can assure you fine gentlemen that no nasty predators will come for us tonight. Eat the lamb, drink the wine, enjoy yourselves.”

  “But you don’t understand, madam,” Alek said. He took Lucine’s hand and kissed it softly. “When this much beauty presents itself, there is always terrible danger lurking.”

  Lucine blushed. “Well, now. That’s . . . nice.”

  Kesia smiled knowingly and left them.

  And then Alek departed with a slight bow. “If you don’t mind, I must see to other matters.” He left us to pursue Natasha, who was already in the arms of another man, one of the Russians.

  Lucine turned from the scene and I dutifully followed her into the main house. Slowly my mind was drawn to the gracious movements of the Cantemir sister who led me. As soon as I stepped into the ballroom, thoughts of the Russian who called herself Sofia were gone.

  The walnut doors from the courtyard led to a magnificent ballroom with a white marble floor, lit by one of the largest crystal chandeliers I had ever seen. White stairs on either side rose to a second-story balcony that surrounded the entire venue.

  Along with the candles in the chandelier, roaring twin fireplaces lit the room. The orange light of oil lamps mounted on walls added shadows. Guests milled about in every corner, tasting pastries that were stacked on four round tables with the drinks.

  Lucine led me through the grand space past the curious gazes and into the dining room, where there were no guests. She closed the door, shutting out the party, and I could not mistake her slight sigh of relief.

  “It gets to be a bit much, don’t you think?” she asked.

  Her voice reached into me like a wisp of perfume. I don’t know why, but to this day I can’t understand why those words affected me so. Perhaps it was the sweet tone with which she expressed precisely what had occupied my mind.

  Perhaps it was the sincerity in her eyes, as if she was as relieved as I to be free from the cacophony of meaningless drivel that typified these sorts of balls.

  Perhaps it was my being alone with her profound beauty.

  I think it was more and less than all of these. I think it was part of what was written in the stars. When Lucine said those simple words, my heart began a most rapid thaw.

  “It was a bit much from the moment I entered the house,” I said carefully.

  She looked at me, hazel eyes brightened by a hundred candles, and then offered me a slight knowing smile. “Was it, now?” She walked past me, along the table, running her fingers on the backs of the carved wooden chairs. Rather small fingers, mind you, but so elegant, like an angel dancing over the backs. Her nails were painted rose as I recall.

  “So tell me, Toma Nicolescu, have you seen any criminals among us?” She faced me. “That is what you’ve come to find, right? Criminals?”

  “I don’t know what I’ve come to find, madam. My orders are only to protect you and your family from any danger that presents itself in this time of political anticipation. And that is what I intend to do.”

  “Then perhaps the first danger you should look to is your stable boy.”

  “Alek, you mean? He’s not a stable boy.”

  But of course she knew that. She was hurt by Alek. He’d left Lucine to attend to Natasha, and she was jealous.

  I suddenly didn’t want her to be jealous of Natasha. Alek had enough women running after him.

  “You’re jealous?”

  “What?”

  “Of your sister,” I said. But I was in no position to stand in judgment of these sorts of things. “Forgive me, that was out of order. I—”

  “It’s fine. But you misunderstand me if you think I could possibly develop an interest in a man, no matter how beautiful or strong or endearing, at first meeting. Or during the course of a week or a month for that matter.”

  But this did not cool me. The thaw that had just warmed my heart was spreading, and I felt a little bit of panic. My feelings were confusing to me, and in light of my promise to Her Majesty, offensive. So I forced the interest aside and proceeded with sincerity.

  “Then you’re not jealous?” I asked.

  “Of what?”

  “Precisely. I’ve always tried to understand what women find so appealing about that boy.” What was I saying?

  “Everywhere we go, they seem to fall all over him. He would never pass up the opportunity to be the life of the party, which he manages like a well-wound clock. Not to mention he’s a war hero, skilled beyond belief with that sword of his. I trust him like a brother and would put my life in his judgment any day.”

  “So then, you’re jealous,” she said. Strands of her dark hair curled around her face like adoring fingers.

  “I
stand in jealousy of all things better than I, so that I might better myself.”

  “And do you also look for ways to dismiss one woman for another?”

  As you think Alek has dismissed you, I almost said. I was right. She had indeed seen something in Alek that pulled at her heart. I could see it in her eyes and it bothered me.

  “I think my sister will like him,” she said. “If she can pull herself away from that Stefan fellow.”

  We spent the next fifteen minutes walking around the mansion, and at every turn I had to remind myself that my awkward attraction to her was only natural, considering her beauty. I had pushed the trivial pursuit of women from my mind so many times for the sake of honor that my thirsty heart was only drinking out of instinct. There was nothing else to it.

  She took me to the tower, and from there she pointed out the property boundaries by moonlight. In my need to remain focused, I must have asked her a hundred questions regarding the comings and goings of servants, the proximity of towns and estates, all things pertaining to any potential threat.

  None surfaced. But they rarely do before their time.

  As I stood by the wall that circled the tower, looking over the grounds, my eyes were secretly and repeatedly drawn back to Lucine. To her dark brown hair cascading over her shoulders. To her neck and her gown, to the curve of her mouth and her small nose. I prayed she did not catch my eyes shifting about.

  “I don’t really care for horses,” she said, resting her hands on the stone wall. Then she caught herself. “Does that bother you?”

  “No. Why would it?”

  “You’re cavalry. Horses are your precious friends. I’m sure I should love them.”

  “But they don’t routinely save your life as they do mine,” I said.

  “You see?” She turned her light brown eyes to meet mine. “I have no right.”

  “Nonsense. You can’t love something because it saves my life. What does my life matter to you? I don’t mean to suggest that you seem like the type who doesn’t care if others live or die. People like me. I mean to say I’m sure you value people like me a great deal.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “After all, we save the world,” I said. “Not that we deserve any special attention for our sacrifice. Or that what we do is really even a sacrifice. I’m just saying.”

  She responded after a pause, eyes still on mine. “And what are you saying?”

  Finally I found some sanity. “That you are free to like or dislike horses as far as I’m concerned. Not that my opinion matters to you.”

  I think I saw her lips curve into a slight smile. I can’t be sure because I was dizzy with my own foolishness. She pointed to the trees and made a remark that I missed about pines.

  She could have been the plainest of creatures and I would have felt the same because her spirit was that of an angel’s. I was drawn to her values and kindness, her honesty, and the ease with which she led me around, unencumbered by the social pressures waiting beneath us.

  She led me down the stairs from the tower, and I could hardly ignore the scent of her perfumed hair. Like gardenias in the summer. If Alek were following her, he would have said something. Perhaps he would have been my savior in this matter. I thought I should send her to him so that I could be free of these ridiculous thoughts.

  We returned to the dining room and walked toward the door leading into the ballroom. “You should make a play for Alek,” I said.

  She paused and tilted her head as if to say, Is that so?

  “He would like that,” I said. “I mean, he likes confident women. And you shouldn’t cast judgment before you get to know him.”

  A roar came from beyond the door.

  She stared at me.

  Another cry, this time a woman’s voice gasping.

  I reached the door in two long steps, threw it wide, and stepped into the ballroom. The lights had dimmed by half, candles extinguished. Dozens of guests lined the walls and the balcony. As one their eyes were fixed on the floor beneath the chandelier.

  There stood Alek, sword drawn, point pressed against one of the Russian’s throats. But the Russian also had a sword stretched out and it lay alongside Alek’s throat. They stood two paces apart, glaring at each other.

  Natasha lay on the floor six feet from them. There was blood on her face.

  “I will kill you for that,” Alek said.

  THREE

  So obvious?” Stefan asked. His voice was soft but confident enough to send a cold draft down my back.

  “Death is always obvious when a woman’s honor is at stake,” Alek said.

  “Her honor? In your jealousy you misunderstand. She asked me to kiss her.”

  I instinctively reached out my left hand and placed it against Lucine’s belly, meaning to push her back to safety, then just as quickly withdrew it, thinking the touch inappropriate.

  I quickly surveyed the room. The other Russians stood casually in a group, watching with mild interest, except the one who called herself Sofia, who was staring at me with fiery eyes. The other guests had backed up to the walls and wore stark faces.

  Kesia Cantemir rushed from the door toward her motionless daughter. “What have you done? What is this?” She dropped to her knees and cradled Natasha’s head in her lap. “Darling, wake up! What is this?”

  I put a hand out to steady Lucine, who had come to herself and was starting to go for her sister. “Be careful, Alek.”

  “Stay back, Toma. He’s been begging me all night.”

  Stefan only chuckled. Alek knew as well as I that even if he thrust his blade into the Russian’s throat now, the man would have plenty of time to reciprocate before they both collapsed in blood.

  “What have you done, you beast?” Kesia cried.

  “I kissed your daughter, madam. Clearly she was overwhelmed by the pleasure and fainted. I assure you, she will awake and beg for more.”

  The room was deathly silent.

  “It is your own honor you have put into question,” Stefan said to Alek. Now a smile had joined his soft voice and warning bells shook in my head. “But we don’t need to kill each other over a woman neither of us really knows. Sister?”

  Sofia, who was evidently Stefan’s sister, stepped toward the two men locked beneath the chandelier. She left her friends, but I could swear her eyes never left me.

  Could the others see this? Was Lucine watching the alluring gaze of this woman piercing my head?

  Stefan flipped his wrist and his long blade sailed toward Sofia in a blur. He lifted both hands in a sign of truce and stepped back.

  Sofia caught the sword by the handle as if it were an apple she’d casually tossed to herself. Using only slight movement, she sent it back to one of the others, who snatched it from the air.

  “Why don’t you try Sofia? She likes big strong warrior types,” Stefan said.

  I had rarely seen Alek at a loss for words, but he hesitated. His eyes spun to Sofia, who was walking around him as she trailed her fingernails along the back of his shoulders.

  “I have no interest in her,” Alek said. “The woman you attacked is on the floor. She’s under my protection and you will go back to hell before I let you leave this place.”

  “Hell? Wouldn’t that be a rush to the head?” Sofia was coming around Alek again, but her eyes were even now on me, unless I had lost my mind. She kissed Alek’s ear.

  “I say play his game, Stefan,” she said. “I’m much more interested in the other one. The one named Toma.”

  Sofia left his side and headed toward me.

  “Is she alive?” Alek demanded of Kesia.

  “She breathes, yes. It’s her lip.”

  “Her lip?”

  “Her lip’s been bitten.”

  “You bit her lip and she fainted—you expect us to believe this?” Alek snarled at the Russian.

  Stefan shrugged. “She’ll tell you the same when she wakes.”

  “Yet there she lies on the floor. How dare you enter this hou
se as a guest and even touch a woman? Go back to your whores in Russia! Your kind aren’t welcome in the Cantemir estate.”

  Sofia had crossed the floor and stood beside me, as if I had claimed her. Lucine on my left, this black-clad seductress on my right. I stood like a trapped deer.

  “Be very careful, Toma,” Sofia whispered.

  She was warning me?

  Alek tossed his sword onto the marble floor, where it clattered to a rest. The brows above Stefan’s eyes arched.

  “He disarms. Impressive. A noble warrior indeed.”

  “I’ll take nobility and shove it down your throat. Leave! This is my last warning.”

  “Or?”

  “Or you will lie dead.”

  “You’ll slice my head off with your fingernails?”

  This could not end well. But stepping in would only undermine the group’s impression of Alek’s judgment, so I held my ground.

  “Do not underestimate me.”

  “My mind exactly. Now you’ve challenged my honor by accusing me of biting off a woman’s lip! I am incensed.”

  “Leave!” Alek thundered.

  You see, I knew that tone in his voice. Alek was not the kind who played games with his sword or knives. Only with his lips and tongue, and only then with women. This dense Russian named Stefan was not hearing his death call. I almost stepped in then, knowing about Alek’s throwing blades.

  “Then what say we defend our honor in a way that isn’t as pathetic or boring as a duel to the death or all that nonsense?”

  Alek said nothing “So you fear me.”

  “I fear only your ignorance. And I have no desire to make a mess on this floor the very first night of my arrival.”

  Stefan stepped back a few paces, spread his arms wide, and addressed the ring of observers watching.

  “Who is interested in seeing me kill”—Alek was already moving, while the man’s eyes were on his audience—“this insolent—”

  A blade Alek had dropped from his right sleeve darted across the room like a dagger shot from a cannon. The man was as good as dead.