Page 29 of Queen of Spades

Iheard the low murmur of voices and cracked my eyes open, trying to see who was nearby. My back was on fire, pain searing with every breath I took, and I groaned, my eyes closing again as I tried to block it out. At some point last night, Erik and Jesse had forced me off the couch and into a guest room, helping me onto the bed so I could rest. I had a fitful night, the pain waking me up and, at points, driving me to unconsciousness when it completely overwhelmed my senses.

A prick in my arm had me flinching, and a cool, anesthetic feeling started to spread out across my shoulders, slowly trickling down my back. “Wha-” I shifted, and a firm hand pressed against my head, holding me still.

“Don’t move,” Anders ordered, and I relaxed under his touch, trusting him implicitly.

“This will help with the pain, but he needs rest to heal,” someone else instructed. “And you need to keep using that sling for at least two more weeks if you want to keep full movement in your arm. You sustained a lot of damage in your shoulder, and you will need extensive physiotherapy once it’s fully healed.”

“Noted,” Anders muttered, and I smirked into the sheet, knowing that he would do whatever the fuck he wantedanyway. The pain in my back had subsided to barely a whisper, and I sighed in relief as the door opened and closed nearby, signaling that the stranger had left.

“S’going on?” I mumbled, twisting my head to the right and blinking up at Anders. His hair was tousled, and he was shirtless, his shoulder rebandaged with fancier shit than what Wren had used. He turned to grab something off the bedside table, and I noticed a cluster of scratches criss-crossing his back, like nail marks.

“Holy shit,” I laughed, and he glanced back, a red flush spreading over his nose and cheeks.

“Shut up,” he snapped, thrusting a glass of water in my face. I rolled slightly and propped myself up with my arm, downing the cool liquid in three large gulps. I handed him the glass, and he refilled it, holding it back for me to take.

“So where is your fierce Kitten?” I asked, smirking as I took the glass, and he huffed, looking over his shoulder at the loveseat by the window. Grace was clearly naked, her hair a wild mess around her face as she laid curled up on the chair, covered by a soft gray blanket. She looked so content, her skin radiant as she slept.

“What the hell happened? I would not expect your father’s house to be the place where you’d-” I laughed as he shot me a glare, cutting off my words.

“He gave her tea laced with magic mushrooms to help fix her powers,” he muttered, and the smile slid off my face, replaced with a sick feeling in my gut. “She had a great trip, kept talking about her skin glowing, and then she stripped naked in the den and ripped my shirt off…”

“Jesus…” I murmured, and he shook his head, looking down at the floor.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t planning on it, not while she was drugged like that. But she was begging me. She insisted, I didn’t want to… I was worried that if I refused, it would hurt her.” I reached out and grabbed his arm, dragging his eyes back to me.

“I know what that’s like,” I reminded him, and the flush across his nose darkened further. “Look, it’s not the same thing as you taking advantage of her while she’s passed out. I know, it doesn’t feel right, but you were gentle, right?” I raised an eyebrow, and his lip curled up. “Exactly, you care about her, so she was safe,” I assured him.

“It worked though,” he murmured, glancing back over to her. “My fucking father was right.” My heart nearly leapt out of my chest with joy. I was overjoyed that Douglas hadn’t taken that away from her, although knowing Gregori Howell, there would be strings attached to this solution.

A quiet knock on the door had us both tensing, and I let go of Anders arm as a mousy woman peeked into the room. “Breakfast is in fifteen minutes. Your presence is requested,” she announced, disappearing before we could protest. I sat up slowly, feeling the tight pull of stitches, just without the sharp pinch of pain. Anders grabbed our go-bags off the floor—which someone must have brought inside last night—and tossed mine on the bed next to me. With his help, I managed to get a shirt on, and then he walked over to the love seat and knelt down, smoothing Grace’s hair off of her face.

“You need to wake up, Kitten,” he murmured, and I was shocked by how gentle he sounded. Maybe he’d been drugged too. Grace’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked around, confused for a moment. “We have breakfast with myfather in ten minutes,” he told her, and she sat up quickly, the blanket sliding off to reveal her naked breasts.

“Oh god, oh god!” she muttered, jumping to her feet and darting into the bathroom. We heard the shower turn on, and a few soft curses filtered toward us, making me chuckle. Anders looked less stressed somehow, even though I knew this house made him tense and miserable. His childhood was nearly as horrific as mine, and that was truly saying something.

The water turned off as Anders was buttoning up a fresh shirt from his bag, and Grace appeared a moment later, drying her hair with a towel as she searched for something. “What’s wrong, baby?” I asked, and she turned her gray eyes on me. Her pupils were huge, and I wondered if she was still a little high.

“My clothes, I don’t have any clothes!” she bit out, and Anders produced her backpack from beside the bed. “Oh, thank god!” She snatched it out of his hands and dug through it, pulling out a couple of things and rushing back to the bathroom. I stood gingerly, testing my stability as Anders moved to steady me, grimacing.

“You can stay up here and rest,” he told me sharply, and I shook my head.

“I don’t like leaving you with him,” I muttered, glaring at the door. “I don’t trust him.” Anders laughed dryly as Grace stepped back into the room, her hair in a neat braid, a pretty pink sundress flowing down to just above her knees.

“Is this okay?” she asked nervously, smoothing it down as we both stared at her.

“Perfect,” I rasped, and Anders nodded silently. Grace smiled and opened the door for both of us, moving to myother side to help Anders guide me down the stairs. The energy it took just to get to the dining room zapped my strength, and I faded in and out of view as I struggled to keep myself together.

Erik and Jesse were already inside, standing next to the table and looking distinctly uncomfortable. Grace slipped out from under my shoulder and half-ran to Jesse, her hands moving to brush over his face as he gave her a pained smile. The doctor had clearly taken a look at him as well—his bandages were fresh, and it seemed like the stitching on his forehead had been redone. Hopefully, he wouldn’t scar too badly; I had enough of those for the both of us.

Anders helped me into a chair, and I groaned, leaning forward so my back wouldn’t touch the wood—even the slightest pressure ached down to my bones despite the pain meds. Erik and Jesse took their seats as well, and Grace hesitated a moment before taking her seat. Loud footsteps on the hardwood signaled Gregori’s approach, and the large man sauntered in, gazing around at all of us in turn. I tried not to grimace as he put his hands on Grace’s shoulders, looming over her with a downright predatory smile on his face.

“You look well this morning, Grace. I trust that the tea helped, then?” he asked, and she nodded, her cheeks flushing red as he patted her arm and moved to take his seat. He was a slippery bastard—even his kindness was a front for something, an act to hide his true intentions.

Servers appeared around us, pouring coffees and setting plates laden with fruit, poached eggs, and whole grain toast down in front of us. Grace nearly lunged for her coffee, and I looked down the table to see how Anders was handling everything. He might as well have been carved out of granite,not moving a muscle or acknowledging the food in front of him. Jesse and Erik didn’t seem to mind the tension and tucked into their food, so I did the same, picking at the fruit carefully, each movement setting off a twinge in my back.

Gregori snapped his fingers, and a large man appeared next to him holding some papers, which he held out for Gregori to take. “Regarding our deal,” he mused, flipping through them quickly before setting them down in front of Grace. “I had everything written up and reviewed by my lawyers. The license was signed and dated, so we will just need your signature as well as my son’s, and then everything will be formalized.” Grace’s eyes widened as she set down her coffee and lifted the papers to read them over.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. What deal?” she asked, frowning as she read. “I don’t- what?!” She lifted one out of the stack, her eyes wide. “This is a marriage license!” she exclaimed, and both Erik and Anders were on their feet in a heartbeat.

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