The Golden Blood Husband

CHAPTER TEN: THE WARD OF LUCIUS DELMAR

Annika had found her way back to Lorcan's side as the doors opened. Without a word, she slipped her hand into his again, her eyes fixed on Fabian across the room as if daring him to try anything else. Lorcan barely noticed. Like everyone else, he was watching the doorway.

Lucius Delmar came through it slowly. He was tall and gaunt, perhaps sixty-five, with silver hair and the hollow cheeks of a man whose body had been failing for years. His lips held a faint bluish tinge that no amount of candlelight could hide, and he leaned on an ebony cane. Even so, he moved like a king entering his own court.

On his other arm walked a young woman in a high-collared silver dress.

The champagne glass in Lorcan's hand cracked.

It was a small sound, lost beneath the murmurs of the crowd, but he felt the thin crystal give way under his fingers and didn't loosen his grip. A drop of wine ran over his knuckles. He didn't notice that either.

She was taller than he remembered, which was foolish, because the girl he remembered had been nine years old. Her dark hair was swept up in an elegant knot, and her face had grown into the kind of quiet beauty that made people turn as she passed. But the high silver collar didn't quite reach far enough. Just below her left ear, where the fabric ended, the edge of a crescent-shaped scar caught the light.

Esme. Twenty-three years old, standing thirty feet away, alive.

As Lucius guided her across the floor, her sleeve shifted, and Lorcan saw a small IV port taped to the inside of her forearm. Lucius's thin fingers rested over it, light and possessive, the way a man might rest his hand on a pocket watch.

"He takes her everywhere," a woman near Lorcan murmured to her companion. "They say his heart can't go a week without a transfusion. She's his own private supply."

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lucius said, his voice dry but carrying easily across the silent room, "allow me to introduce my ward, Esme."

The guests applauded politely, as if he had presented a fine painting.

Esme smiled at them. It was a practiced smile, smooth and empty, the smile of someone who had learned long ago exactly what was expected of her. Her gaze drifted across the crowd without interest, over the bankers and judges and their jewels, until it reached the far side of the ballroom and stopped.

She saw him.

For one heartbeat, everything in her face shattered. Her lips parted. Her eyes went wide and bright, and the careful mask she wore cracked straight down the middle, and Lorcan saw his little sister underneath it, the girl who had scratched a compass into a wall so he could always find his way back to her.

Then, as quickly as it had broken, the mask was back. She held his gaze for one more second and gave the smallest shake of her head.

Don't.

Lorcan didn't move. Every muscle in his body wanted to cross that floor, break Lucius Delmar's arm, and carry her out through the glass. He stayed where he was and did nothing, because she had asked him to, and because Esme had never once in her life asked for anything without a reason.

Lucius accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter and raised it. "Thank you all for coming tonight, and for your generosity. I have one more announcement before I let you get back to your drinks." He smiled thinly. "Tomorrow night, at the Ashcombe Foundation Gala, the Delmar and Ashcombe families will reveal a historic merger. Two great houses, joined at last."

Applause rose again, louder this time. Across the room, Clement lifted his glass high, beaming like a man collecting a prize.

Annika felt Lorcan's hand tighten on hers, then go slack. She looked up at him, puzzled, and then followed his gaze across the room. It led straight to the beautiful girl in the silver dress, to the scar on her neck and the way she stood rigid at Lucius's side, staring back at Lorcan.

Something in Annika's face closed. Lorcan felt it in the way her fingers loosened, one at a time. She didn't ask. She simply let go of his hand and stepped away, and in her eyes he saw the conclusion she had already drawn, wrong and painful. Someone he loved, he had told her. Someone he couldn't leave.

He couldn't explain. Not here. Not now.

In his ear, Nadia's voice came through tight and strained.

"Lorcan. We're beneath the Garden." He heard her swallow. "There are eleven beds down here. All occupied. All children. The oldest can't be more than fifteen."

He kept his face blank and listened.

"Every IV line runs to a single pump mounted on the wall. My medic checked the reservoir. It's potassium, enough to stop eleven hearts at once. And there's a card taped to the pump." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "It says For the Navigator."

Lorcan closed his eyes for half a second.

Now he understood Esme's warning. The Circle had known the Navigator would come. They had prepared for it. If he tried to take his sister by force tonight, someone would press a button, and eleven children would die in their beds before anyone could reach them. Esme had seen the pump. She had probably lain beside those children. She had shaken her head because she would rather stay a prisoner than buy her freedom with their lives.

"Don't touch anything," he murmured. "Pull back."

A hand settled on his shoulder, light and friendly.

Lorcan didn't turn. He didn't need to. He recognized the cool, dry fingers from the clinic that morning.

Dr. Adrian Stroud stepped up beside him, holding a glass of champagne, and followed his gaze across the room to Esme. He studied her for a long, appreciative moment, the way a collector might admire a rare piece.

"Lovely, isn't she?" Stroud said pleasantly. "Your Matron was very loyal, you know. Her watch sent us your face before your people took her, Subject Eleven." He sipped his champagne. "The Shepherd thought you deserved one last look at your sister."

The ballroom went on glittering around them. The music started again. Somewhere, Fabian laughed too loudly at something Clement said.

Stroud leaned closer, until his lips were almost at Lorcan's ear.

"The harvest has been moved up," he whispered. "Tonight."