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Authors: Shirl Anders

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Several hours later Harrison slipped silently along one of the piers at the London docks. The early morning light was just barely catching the fog. He had done exceptionally well so far. He’d been extremely lucky in avoiding Drummond while leaving Sebastian in Gabriella’s care. And now more fortunate than that he had discovered that Kant was in London, or he had been several hours before. Now he would confirm the rumor, and then find Kant.

Even now he prayed it was Kant that Lia had given Chloe to, because he had something to trade Kant for Chloe’s release. Himself. Kant did not realize it yet, but he had been the assassin that had killed Kant’s brother five years before. Kant would know him by reputation though. They had skimmed the edges around each other for years, playing their games for their countries. He had seen Kant in person several times while spying in France. Now he just needed to find the man and convince him who he was, then offer the trade for Chloe. It would work if he could just find them.

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

“Drink more!”

Chloe tried to refuse the harsh opium-laced drink but the man called Kant forced her to drink it, slopping liquid over her chin when she tried not to. Her vision and mind were already hazy in a rippling slow motion quality. This was not the first time Kant had forced her to drink the opiate. How many times now? Three? Four? She could not remember . . .

“That’s it, Lia,” Kant coaxed, tilting the cup upward until she drained the last dredges.

Lia! That shook Chloe’s drug hazed mind. This man thought she was Lia. Another man thought she was Lia. “Raven!”

“Stop saying that name, you bitch!” Kant slapped her hard, but truly she barely felt it as she whimpered, and then Kant snarled, “Come, Lia, it is time to play again!”

Ohno!
Chloe panicked for a moment, but she lost her will and direction in the haziness of the opium effects while Kant dragged her from the dirty bedroom, using the collar with the leash that he had belted around her neck. He took her to a large room. She did not know what kind of room it was. There were men’s voices. Foreign accents. Blurry men’s faces around her. She smiled. They were happy. Laughing, drinking maybe? She wanted to laugh with them now, yet her body was too lax.

“Lay down, cunt,” Kant ordered, harshly tugging on her collar and chain.

Chloe frowned at him. He was not happy. Everyone else was happy. But she wanted to lay down, she was happy to do it, feeling all languid and warm. She lay on a bed with a soft velvet quilt. She turned her head slowly feeling the blurry men’s faces around her. They were sitting around her drinking . . . yes, she could see that and one of them smoked a cigar as he watched her.

“Spread your legs, Lia!” Kant tugged hard on the chain and collar around her neck.

It hurt,
Chloe thought numbly and she wondered where her clothes were . . . her clothes . . . her clothes?

Harrison clamped his jaw tight. There were at least twenty men in the warehouse room. He could not take them all at once. For now, they just watched Chloe. And that was all right, he told himself, because she was beautiful. Yet soon they would stop watching her as Kant made her touch herself. Her breasts, her belly, and between her beautiful pale legs. She had to be drugged. Opium, he would guess because she smiled and undulated on the bed for Kant. Held by a collar and leash, like a-

Harrison shook his thought away with a jerk of his head. Now there was no time to call in reinforcements. He could not let them gang rape her. Which was what it was leading to. He had to get to Kant. Kant could stop it. And he had something Kant wanted.

Harrison made his entrance dramatic. He wanted to make sure to quickly catch Kant’s attention, so he jumped with a shattering crash through the skylight window on the roof where he had been watching the scene below. The roof was slanted enough that none of the glass would fall Chloe’s way. He used the rope he’d found on the pier below and tied it off to swing down to the warehouse floor in a billow of shattering glass and his great coat.

When his feet hit the floor, he shouted one word, one damning German word at Kant. Luckily his rasping shout was loud enough over the clamor of angry men’s voices because before the crowd could mob him, Kant yelled. “Halt! He is mine!”

Chloe still lay on the raised bed held by Kant’s collar and leash. She was mindless to what was happening, naked and defenseless. Harrison desperately wanted to throw his greatcoat around her, to hold her, never letting her go. Yet he stood rigidly still and raised his hands slowly in hopes of bolstering the bald face lie that he carried no weapons.

“How did you know that name?” Kant shouted “Only my brother, Klaus, would have!”

“Because I killed him,” Harrison rasped as he began to pace slowly in a wide arc.

“Don’t move, assassin!” Kant shouted, tugging hard on the chain in his agitation and making Chloe yelp in pain.

Boldly, Harrison continued to pace. “You want the man who killed your brother, do you not?” he sneered with the arc he was pacing, tightening. “You want the man who watched your brother piss his pants before he died? Do you not?”

“Cunt! You worthless, assassins’ cunt!” Kant screamed, shaking the chain to Chloe’s collar. “Yes, I want you!” he hissed savagely. “And I have you!” he charged.

“That is an illusion, Master Kant,” Harrison hissed. “You only have me if I wish it.” His pacing began circling even closer. He had seen his savior —
his
salvation amongst the group of men. He should have known. But now he needed to play down his last card. “And I do wish it.” Harrison sneered at Kant “For the woman! I want her more than you. Give her to my companion and we will see if two German brothers piss their pants in death the same way!” Harrison could see that Kant was livid, Kant wanted to charge, yet held himself barely in check with his jerking gaze scanning the room. He was looking for the companion as a smart man would do.

“I believe that we have a deal,” Drummond said, pulling the hammer back on his pistol and pointing it at Kant as he tossed his cigar aside. His quickly fluid motions took him to the bed where Chloe lay.

“They will kill you both!” Kant charged of the men milling around behind them watching the highly charged scene. No doubt several were Kant’s personal men.

“I have no doubt,” Drummond drawled. “However, you have made an honest deal for an exchange. This man for the woman.”

Kant relaxed, then nodded as he threw down the leash. “I will find her later,” he hissed. Then he turned to Harrison. “Take him!” he shouted.

Bang!

“No!” Drummond shouted, pointing the pistol that he had just shot into the air once again at Kant.

“Not until they are gone!” Harrison yelled hoarsely. “I will be here standing before you.”

“All right. Ya! Take her,” Kant uttered, waving his hand for Drummond to proceed.

Harrison watched as Drummond threw his cloak over Chloe and lifted her up into his arms, still holding his pistol on Kant. “We are never alone,” Drummond said with a sneer before he quickly stalked away from the inner warehouse room.

“What did he mean?” Kant growled, right before he shouted, “Take him now!”

Harrison did not fight. He could still see Drummond and Chloe at the far end of the warehouse. One more minute and they would reach the door to the outside.

“Strip him! He is an assassin,” Kant ordered, as many hands grabbed Harrison, jostling him as they began to tear at his clothes. The greatcoat went first as a bull of a man locked his forearm around Harrison’s neck from behind. Harrison stayed unnaturally still as the door at the end of the warehouse opened.

Rip!
His shirt was ripped open. The door closed—

Chloe felt the carriage swaying, as she cried out, “I am yours! Yours!” Then her neck went limp and her head fell backward...

Drummond held Chloe on his lap as he gnawed on the end of an unlit cigar while he gazed unblinking out of the carriage window into the bright afternoon sunlight. He did not believe that Harrison had a chance, and he had only made his last statement in the hopes of throwing Kant off and buying Harrison any small chance he could give him. Yet there was no hidden someone there to help Harrison. Harrison was on his own. And as much as Drummond wanted to go back and make a last stand with Harrison, he knew what Harrison needed more, and that was getting Chloe to safety.

Harrison had probably given his damn life for hers and Drummond would be damned if he would let him down now. He just fervently wished that he’d had the time earlier to gather the Archangels together before his need to move. With no time on his side he’d known then that he would only be able to save one, and he’d known then which one it would be. But damnation, if any man alive could make it out against those odds, it was his venomous best friend, Harrison.

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

 

Two weeks later, Chloe came downstairs to have tea with Gabriella. It was just last evening the Duke and Duchess of Kittridge had sat her down in their small formal dining room. There they had calmly explained to her that while Lord Ravenscar was alive and had made his escape from the warehouse, he would not be returning for her. She had also been told gently, that she was free to leave their company to continue on with her life as she wished. She was told that Lia had left England for the Continent, under the belief that she, her sister, was dead by the hands of Kant. In truth after they had explained to her that Raven would not be coming for her, Chloe had heard very little of what they said. And then she excused herself shortly afterward.

She had felt so dizzy and disorientated on reaching her chambers that she feared the effects of the opium she’d been given had returned. It had taken her nearly a week to feel close to normal again and she still wore high collars to hide the bruising around her neck. She could only remember bits and pieces of what had happened, yet she did remember the horrible shameful collar. The rest she was too frightened to remember, and she did wonder if that was why Raven would not come back for her. Had he seen them using her? Had he seen them raping her? Had it even happened? She did not know, and she thought, that she did not want to know.

At other times during the long night she thought that Raven no longer wanted her because he now knew that she was Chloe and not Lia. Yet he had saved her. She remembered Drummond telling her that, only her mind kept losing pieces as soon as she learned them. She was afraid to tell anyone about it, afraid they could think her crazy. She needed Raven desperately but she did not know how to ask for him.

“Come sit beside me, Chloe,” Gabriella said when Chloe entered the yellow sitting room. “I have our tea here. And I do so wish to speak to you. Is Sebastian down for his nap then?”

“Thank you,” Chloe replied automatically as she sat beside Gabriella hoping that she could hide the trembling in her hands as she drank her tea. “Yes, the nursemaid has fed him,” she murmured trying to smile. She knew that Gabriella had hired the nurse to feed Sebastian when she had been kidnapped by Lia and she had continued to use the nursemaid because of the opium. She dared not try and feed Sebastian herself. “He is sleeping now,” she finished quietly.

“He is such a good baby,” Gabriella said, patting her hand.

“You have been so kind to us,” Chloe whispered, feeling tears threaten her suddenly as one dripped down her cheek. “I do not know what is wrong with me.”

“Now-now,” Gabriella murmured, catching her hands before she could run from the room, and then Gabriella was embracing her as she wept silently. “You see,” Gabriella said. “I told Drummond that you took our news entirely too well last evening. There-there, darling, it will be all right,” she soothed.

Chloe did not know how long she cried on Gabriella’s shoulder before she calmed enough to accept a linen to blow her nose.

“You love Harrison, I know,” Gabriella said, rubbing one of her hands between both of hers. “It is because of this that I am going to tell you something and why I wanted to speak to you without Drummond here.” Gabriella smiled. “Our men can be too secretive. I suppose it is a product of their shared profession. You must believe that Drummond feels he is doing what will cost you the least harm in the end.”

Chloe imagined this was another time when her mind was confused and she could not comprehend, because what Gabriella was saying did not make sense, until Gabriella said, “That is why I have decided to tell you about the note. Our Harrison left a missive.”

“He left a note!” Chloe exclaimed hopefully. “What does it say?” Yet she realized belatedly, especially when she heard Gabriella sigh, that it might not be good news . . . probably was not.

“Chloe, I want you to understand,” Gabriella said. “That not even Drummond knows where Harrison has gone . . . or exactly why. And that is highly unusual. But here is a note that he sent to Drummond the next morning, the morning after Drummond brought you here. You must understand that Drummond hoped that he could find Harrison and that is why he waited so long to speak to you.”

Chloe opened the note slowly with trembling fingers and read it silently. “I am alive. Keep them both safe. I will not be returning.” It was signed, Lord Ravenscar. Chloe touched the scroll of his name with her fingertips. He had flourished penmanship, she would not have expected that. “What will I do without him?” she murmured, truly forgetting for a moment that she was in Gabriella’s company. “He enslaved me. Does he not know that? Does he not know that I love him? Does he not care?”

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