Blood Curse (Branded Trilogy Book 2) (22 page)

“Go to hell.”

“Tsk, tsk. What will she say when she finds out you betrayed her?”

He pulled against the ropes, wanting to throttle the snake.

“You are afraid and rightly so.” His eyes grew wide. “Oh, I see. I see indeed.”

“You see nothing.”

“You love her.” Pias giggled and clapped his hands together. “Wonderful.”

Kade growled.

“She will cast you to the wolves when she hears of your deceit. You will be but a poor man with a broken heart.” He laughed a high-pitched breathy sound.

“She will know I had no choice.”

“But you did. There is always a choice.”

“I would not see my father killed.”

“You chose his life for another’s.” He smiled. “A little girl’s no less, but one with charm.”

“I did not know Silas would kill the child.”

“So sad…” Pias walked toward the cabin and disappeared inside.

“How could you?” Pril whispered as a tear danced down her blood-smeared cheek.

The agony within her words cut into him and wounded his soul beyond repair.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

 

Pril hung her head. She would not let him see the tears within her eyes. He betrayed her—duped her into his ruse, and she’d been the fool to think he was different. He wanted her daughter, hunted her like all the others and for the Monroes.

She held back the sob as it pressed into the back of her throat. Anguish sliced away at her soul, shredding any ounce of affection she’d had for him. How could she have been so blind? He’d tricked her, used her grief as leverage to get what he wanted…and he’d won.

“Pril.”

“Leave me,” she whispered as another tear dripped from her chin.

“Let me explain.”

Her head shot up. “There is no need. You have deceived me.”

She saw the remorse in his eyes and refused to acknowledge it.

“I had no other choice. You must understand.”

“I understand nothing. She is a little girl.” Her bottom lip trembled. “A baby.”

“Silas has Sam. He is holding him captive unless I bring the child to him.” He tried to stretch forward but the rope kept him still.

“You are a worm, Kade Walker.”

“I wasn’t aware Silas would kill the child. Do you think me so low that I’d watch a child be murdered?”

She sent him a chilling glare.

“I worried for my father.” He paused. “I do not know if he lives even now.”

She denied any sense of pity for him. He had conned her, pretended to care while plotting to take her child.

“Hush. I will not fall victim to your schemes any longer.”

“I—”

“Enough.”

Pias opened the door and walked out with Tsura in his arms. Pril gasped. Her baby was here. She was alive. Every muscle in her body screamed to be released from the bonds that kept her captive. Her arms ached to hold her little girl. She slid forward determined to make sure Tsura was well, to touch her—kiss her.

“Remain where you are,” Pias said.

She stopped.

He laid Tsura on the ground and reached for the pistol tied to his waist.

“Can I see her?” she asked.

“Why of course…from where you sit.”

“Please, please.” She shimmied on her knees toward them. “Let me come closer.”

The need to see Tsura, caress her face and hear her voice forced her to beg him. Was she well, had she fallen ill? What if Pias fed her an overdose of the Witch’s berry? It was almost too much for her to bear. She gasped, and her flesh heated. She wanted to shriek, to pull at her hair, to lose control and spew vile obscenities at the scum who stole her daughter.

Pias went to where his horse stood grazing beside the cabin. He hadn’t bothered to unsaddle the poor animal. A brown sack hung from the saddle. He reached inside and pulled out the spell book.

“It was to be the two of us, Pias. What is going on here?” A man Pril recognized as a Monroe, but was unsure which one, walked around the cabin. His navy blue coat hung past his hips to settle just above his knees and rest against the tweed breeches.

“Ah, Hiram, a pleasure to see you again.” Pias smiled and walked toward him, the book held to his chest.

“We had an agreement.”

“And we still do.”

“Who are these people?” Hiram asked.

“I am Kade Walker, and this is Pril of the Peddlers. The child you seek is hers.”

She watched as Hiram’s face lost all color, matching the peruke upon his head.

“You’ve come for my daughter. To kill her,” she hissed.

“Quiet,” Pias commanded.

Pril planted her feet flat on the ground and stood. Her arms shot out in front of her to keep her balance. She wobbled back and forth, but did not fall. She’d destroy the bastard for all he’d done.

She hopped toward them.

“Cease,” Pias shouted.

She angled her features into a scowl and hopped again.

“Stay put, Gypsy.”

She ignored Kade and came closer to them

“Wait…you must hear me out,” Hiram said.

She’d wait no longer. She wanted to hold her baby—to drive the end of her arrow into the hearts of both Pias and Hiram. The Monroe had conspired with Pias all of this time—she’d kill him first.

“I loved your sister.”

The declaration stopped her, and she turned toward him.

“What did you say?” She was close enough she could hear Tsura’s soft snores, and she released a breath.

“I loved her.”

How could that be? Vadoma cared for Silas. He was Tsura’s father.

“And she loved me.”

“Enough!” she snapped. “My sister loved no one.”

“I cherished her.”

Hiram’s eyes drooped, and she saw the sadness within them.

“If there was one she held affection for it was Silas.”

“No, Silas was infatuated with her, but she cared for me.”

“Lies.”

“I speak the truth, please you must hear me.”

“Silas courted her. I saw him come and seek her.”

The corner of his mouth lifted.

“She used him to be with me.”

“But why?”

“We wanted to run away together when she told me of the babe.” His eyes glazed as he remembered. “I bought us passage upon a ship heading to the other world. We were to board the next day. Silas paid the captain to set sail without Vadoma. I couldn’t get off. I was trapped at sea. When I finally was able to sail home, she refused to see me. She’d grown cold, resentful and dangerous. She no longer cared for me.”

“You killed her. You and your brothers hung her.”

“I did not know. When I found out what Silas had plotted I raced to save her…but I was too late. I could do nothing.” He wiped the tear from his cheek. “I will never forgive myself for what happened that day.”

She was stunned, shocked by what he’d said. She hadn’t known, never suspected that Hiram Monroe was Tsura’s father. All this time he’d been the one Vadoma had loved. Her sister had changed while love blossomed inside of her, and when he never returned she grew to be vile and spiteful. She became evil, inflicting the pain she’d felt onto those around her. The blood curse; it was why she’d placed it, her last spell to get back at Hiram for breaking her heart. Pril understood. The anger and resentment she’d felt toward her sister disappeared and was replaced with sorrow. Vadoma died of a broken heart.

“I have done some things I am not proud of…” He glanced at Tsura sleeping on the ground. “But I will not allow my brothers to kill my child.”

She assessed him, trying to decide if what he’d said was true. Could she trust him? There was no valor or arrogance within his stance, and when she peered into his eyes she saw anguish and truth.

Pias clapped his hands together. “What a beautiful, tragic love story. I must say, Hiram, you tell it well. Bravo, my friend. Bravo.”

“Go to hell,” Hiram growled.

“Where is the talisman?”

“No! Do not give it to him,” Pril begged.

Pias turned and aimed the pistol toward her.

“No!” Kade yelled.

A shot rang out, and she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the pain of the lead ball to pierce her skin. When nothing came, she slowly opened her eyes. Pias lay on the ground, eyes staring up at the sky as blood seeped from his chest.

Smoke billowed from Hiram’s pistol which was still pointed at the Renoldi.

He went to Pril first, and she shielded herself with her arms.

“I will not hurt you,” he said as he untied the bonds and set her free.

She ran to Tsura and picked her limp body up to cradle within her arms. A loud sob burst from her lips as she nestled her face within her raven curls. She was still drugged from the Witch’s berry, but Pril didn’t care. Tsura lived, and she’d found her.

Hiram’s shadow loomed on the ground in front of her. She tucked Tsura into her side and stood. He wanted to see the child, to see his daughter’s face for the first time, but she didn’t trust him. He was a Monroe.

He reached across Tsura’s sleeping form and laid the ruby pendant onto her chest. The stone flickered, growing brighter until it glowed.

“For you, little one.”

The talisman she thought lost forever lay upon Tsura.

“Where did you get it?”

“The night Vadoma told me she was with child.” He reached out and with the tip of his finger caressed Tsura’s cheek. “She made me promise that if anything ever happened to her, this necklace would be given to you.”

“To me?” Vadoma had promised her the pendant after she died, but Pril thought it only words. Now she knew her sister had spoken the truth.

Hiram nodded.

“She cared for you and knew the kind of love that was inside of your heart.”

 

She often wondered if Vadoma knew she’d die that night four years past, if she placed the blood curse for more than the obvious reason. Now with the pendant being returned she believed it to be true.

“Thank you.”

Hiram smiled.

“I cannot let you take her.”

“Nor, do I want to. She is in good hands.”

The weight of the past crashed down upon her. The regret, anger and fear slid from her shoulders, and relief overflowed from her lids to wash her face.

Hiram patted her back. “You’ll do right with her.”

“Brother, I am deeply hurt that you have betrayed me.” Silas walked from the forest into the small clearing.

Pril grabbed the pendant, folding it within her palm and stepped back closer to the door of Vadoma’s home. Three men walked with Silas, and she knew the white one to be his brother, Jude. Two Powhatan Indians stood on either side of the eldest Monroe. The tribe lived outside of Jamestown and was known for their lethal skills. Silas must’ve hired them. The urge to place Tsura somewhere safe overwhelmed her.

“I cannot allow you to continue your rampage any longer,” Hiram said.

Silas’ face turned hard and rigid.

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“And what of the times where you participated, Brother? We cannot forget that.”

“Today it ends.”

“Indeed it does.”

Hiram raised the pistol in his hand and pointed it in Silas’ direction.

“You are a weasel,” Jude spat.

“It is true. I have done many things for which I am not proud,” Hiram said.

Pril glanced down at Tsura’s sleeping face. With the heel of her foot she pushed open the door and slipped inside.

She laid her on the ground. “Protect this little one. Keep thy evil and threats to none.” She said the words, counting a spell to protect her daughter from the Monroes, and the evil that lay outside the cabin walls.

She took one last look at Tsura before she slipped the pendant over her head, hiding it beneath her blouse and exited the cabin, closing the door softly behind her. She spotted her bow and quiver to the left, and took a step toward them.

“I see you’ve done me a service yet, Brother,” Silas said as he observed Kade still tied to the tree.

Kade struggled against the ropes. The veins in his neck protruded, his face crimson, his arms bunched.

“He will be freed,” Hiram said.

“He will die.” He leaned in close to Kade. “As your father did.”

“You rotten bastard,” Kade spat, pulling on the ropes with enough force to shake the tree.

Silas laughed.

“Did you think I’d let him live?”

Kade’s lips thinned, his jaw flexed, and he growled low in his throat.

“You are more foolish than I thought.”

“Brother, you cannot end his life. Have you forgotten what he is to you?” Hiram asked.

“He is nothing to me,” Silas screamed.

“He is your blood.”

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