Chapter 7
Rhys had been joking about Nikolai Volkov’s interest in Castle Pendragon, but not about the number of visits the Russian had made to the castle in recent months. But all, without exception, with the intention of offering his assistance.
Tall, with overlong pale hair and piercing gray eyes, Volkov was known in the London underworld as the Wolf, mainly because of his ruthless personality. As a warrior, Rhys had total respect for the man, and he knew his brothers shared that respect, Nikolai and his bratva boss, Gregori Markovic, having discovered the Pendragon brothers’ secret several months ago. A secret they were happy to maintain as long as the status quo remained in place. The Pendragon brothers had no argument with that. Rhys’s only complaint at seeing the man again was the timing of the Russian’s visit, when his own driving concern was to complete the mating with Cristina.
“So another two of you have found your mate, hm?” Nikolai mocked the fierceness of Rhys’s scowl as the two men shook hands.
His eyes narrowed. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
“Not if it happened in London, no.” The other man gave a dismissive shrug. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if that was the case.” He gave Rhys a considering glance. “You look less grim already.”
“Thanks,” Rhys muttered dryly.
Volkov nodded before turning his attention to Aeran. “Being mated suits you.”
“We’re not quite there yet, but… Exactly how did you know Cristina is our mate?” Aeran prompted shrewdly.
Volkov’s glance now included all the Pendragon brothers gathered together in the sitting room. “The Romanians have elected Vasile Fescaru as the new head of their organization in London.”
“Any relation to Cezar?” Garrett asked.
“Cousin,” the Russian confirmed. “Gregori was in talks with the man yesterday, and so far, there have been no disagreements regarding Gregori’s dictates as to what Vasile can and can’t do in our territory.”
“Except?” Dylan raised dark brows.
“Except.” Volkov gave him an acknowledging nod. “Vasile wants Cristina Petran.”
“No fucking way!” Rhys stated harshly.
“He can’t have our mate,” Aeran bit out just as furiously.
“Gregori already told him no,” the Russian soothed. “Even if she wasn’t your mate, we wouldn’t give her up to what those fuckers might do to her.”
“We wouldn’t allow it anyway,” Grigor stated firmly.
“There’s that too,” Nikolai acknowledged. “The Romanians are an irritation, a flea on a dog’s back.” He gave a dismissive snap of his fingers. “As you’re all aware, our organization and your dragons are more help to each other as allies than enemies.”
“You still haven’t explained how you know she’s Rhys and Aeran’s mate,” Deryk said slowly.
Nikolai glanced at him. “The same way the Romanians will also shortly know exactly where she is.”
“Which is?” Bryn’s bronze-colored eyes were narrowed to bright slits.
“I’ve had someone watching Fescaru’s apartment since—well, since.” The Russian grimaced. “Cristina Petran arrived there three days ago and stayed, which we didn't perceive as being a problem. Then yesterday, Aeran and Rhys broke into the apartment during the night. When they left, they took Cristina with them. Unfortunately”—he gave the two men a reproving glance—“you didn’t take the recordings or copies from the security camera feeds with you when you left.”
“We were a little distracted at the time,” Rhys mocked.
“I can imagine.” Volkov nodded. “Vasile sent two of his men to the apartment last night, and when they left, they took several bags of papers with them and, more importantly, a laptop.”
“Shit,” Aeran snapped, knowing he should have been the one to think of taking the laptop from the safe room. His carelessness in not doing so could now have put Cristina in danger.
“Exactly,” the Russian drawled. “We found the main recordings of Cezar’s apartment in another room in the basement of the apartment building, obviously where Cezar’s security team would usually have been on duty. The recordings from yesterday were on there. They show the two of you”—he gave Aeran and Rhys pointed glances—“leaving the apartment with Cristina. Now, Vasile isn’t quite up to speed with everything yet, but he will be. We believe it will only take him a day or two to discover exactly who the two of you are, and when he does, we have every reason to believe he’s going to come here looking for Cristina. We’re well aware you’re all quite capable of looking after your own,” he added dryly as several of the brothers growled their disapproval. “But Gregori and I still thought having some of our men here too might help with the situation.”
“Why is Vasile so determined to get hold of Cristina?” Rhys asked slowly.
“She told us she doesn’t know anything about the details of Cezar’s organization, and I believe her,” Aeran defended.
“We both believe her,” Rhys added in support.
Nikolai nodded. “And I’m sure that part, at least, is true. My information tells me that Cezar kept Cristina completely separate from that part of his life.”
“He did.” Aeran nodded. “Only a very few of Fescaru’s men, the ones who acted as her bodyguards, even knew she existed.” His jaw tightened. “Besides, Fescaru doesn’t sound like the sort of man who would confide in his mistress.”
Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “The two of you are still under that illusion?”
“What illusion?” Rhys demanded.
The Russian raised pale eyebrows. “What Cristina was to Fescaru.”
“We haven’t exactly lived blameless lives ourselves.” Aeran bristled defensively. “We don’t care that she was his mistress.”
Volkov winced. “Um. No.”
“What do you mean, no?” Rhys prompted softly.
Aeran had a feeling neither of them were going to like Nikolai’s answer.
Cristina followed the directions Aeran had given her to the dining room, finally finding the stone-walled room where three other women were already seated and helping themselves to the food in the center of the long table.
“Come in and join us,” a young and beautiful blonde woman invited warmly as she stood up. “I’m Izzi, Deryk’s mate.”
“Cristina.” She had noted the other woman’s slight accent to go along with her Slavic looks.
Another blonde smiled in greeting as she stood up to collect a warm plate for Cristina before putting in down at one of the empty place settings. “I’m Billie, Garrett’s mate.”
“Chloe is putting Amelia to bed, and Holly is checking on Tegan and the baby. Holly is a doctor,” Izzi explained with a smile. “But I’m sure the others will join us later.”
Which left just the noticeably silent and beautiful redhead seated opposite Cristina who had yet to introduce herself. That long red hair was brushed back and secured in a ponytail at her crown, green eyes narrowed and glittering.
Cristina knew instinctively that this woman didn’t like her. In her opinion, the other woman didn’t know her well enough to make a valid opinion, but there was no denying the suspicion and animosity that came off this young woman in palpable waves.
She tried a tentative smile. “Hi, I’m Cristina—”
“I know who you are.” The redhead rose to her feet, as if she was too restless to remain seated. She was about the same height as Cristina, her body willowy in skinny low-rider jeans and a tight-fitting black sweater. “I’m Gayle.” She made the introduction sound like a challenge.
Cristina had no idea who— “You’re Grigor’s mate?” The other woman looked to be about Cristina’s own age, possibly a year or two older at most. Those skinny jeans and tight sweater also didn’t look like something the austere and aloof Grigor would approve of his young mate wearing.
“I am.” The mockery in Gayle’s smile said she had guessed the reason for Cristina’s disbelief. “Holly, Dylan’s mate, is also my sister.”
“Because we all have the same freakish trace of dragon DNA in our blood.”
“Yes,” Billie confirmed.
“It’s all true, then…?” Any lingering doubt Cristina might have harbored, in regard to her dragon shifter lovers and their six brothers and their mates was fast evaporating now that she had actually met some of those other mates.
Other mates.
Did that mean she was also starting to accept she was Aeran and Rhys’s mate?
“At least your taste in men has improved,” Gayle sneered.
Cristina blinked at this obvious attack before raising her chin in challenge. “You knew Cezar?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Gayle snorted. “Billie did too.”
Cristina swallowed, not quite sure what Gayle meant when she said she and Billie had known her father. Did she mean in a sexual way or something else? Cristina had never seen her father with any women, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been any. Her father had been fanatical about keeping her separate from the rest of his life. Even so, she really couldn’t see her father being involved with women who weren’t much older than his own daughter.
All these women obviously believed what Rhys and Aeran did—that Cristina had been Cezar’s mistress.
Cristina moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “How did you know him?”
Gayle gave a hard laugh. “Fescaru sent Billie here to assassinate me.”
Cristina stood up noisily. “I don’t believe you!”
“No?” Gayle mocked. “Billie?”
“I’m afraid it’s true,” the other woman confirmed with obvious reluctance.
“Although I’m not sure it was completely necessary for you to tell Cristina that right now,” Izzi gently rebuked an obviously unrepentant Gayle.
Cristina could feel the angry color burning her cheeks. “I can’t think of any reason why my—why Cezar would ever have done such a thing.” She knew her father had protected her from that side of his life, but the idea of him ordering Billie to kill Gayle really was too much for her to take in.
“For reasons I’d rather not go into right now, Fescaru had some leverage over me and forced me to steal money from my employer. But I screwed up.” Billie sighed. “And Fescaru ordered me to kill Gayle as a show of my loyalty.”
“I’d done something to piss him off,” Gayle continued the narrative, “and he decided to have me killed as a deterrent to anyone else who might be thinking of doing the same.”
The color left Cristina’s cheeks as quickly as it had entered them.
Could her father really have done the things these women were accusing him of doing?
Billie and Gayle certainly seemed to believe he had. Izzi wasn’t denying it either. Cristina might not have known these other women very long, but surely they had no reason to lie about something so damning to her father.
Ignorance is no excuse.
Admittedly, that saying had originally been made in connection with the law, but surely it also applied to Christina’s ignorance regarding her father’s illegal business dealings and more. Admittedly, Cezar hadn’t wanted Cristina involved in that part of his life, but she had chosen not to ask him anything about it either.
Because she hadn’t wanted to know the answers.
She hadn’t wanted to see or know her father as anything more than the only parent she’d had since learning who he was when she was thirteen.
But the things Gayle and Billie had just revealed showed Cezar in a completely different light to the one Cristina knew. They described him as a monster. A murderer, even if he didn’t commit those murders himself. He ordered other people to do his dirty work instead. Making him as guilty as they were, perhaps even more so, for having ordered the killing in the first place.
“I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.” She could no longer look directly at any of the other three women in the room. “If you will excuse me…” She turned on her heel and ran across the room.
“Cristina, wait!” Billie was the one to try to stop her.
Cristina couldn’t stop. Daren’t stop. She needed to be completely alone before she gave in to the heartbreak of knowing these women must hate her for what they believed her lover had tried to do to them.
The fact that Cezar was actually Cristina’s father, not her lover, only made the situation worse.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
The harshly accusing question was the only warning Cristina had before an arm like a steel band curled about her waist and lifted her completely off her feet, successfully stopping her from escaping up the stairs.
An arm she recognized only too well.
One of Rhys’s strong and protective arms.
At least, they had been protective.
The hard glitter in those aquamarine eyes, when Cristina turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, told her that Nikolai Volkov had ensured Rhys was no longer under any illusion as to exactly who she was.
Cezar Fescaru’s daughter.
Aeran’s expression was just as bleak and full of accusation as he moved to stand beside Rhys.
It was too much.
Lack of food, too much emotion, too much truth in just a matter of hours, caused Cristina’s eyes to roll to the back of her head as she fainted for only the second time in her life.