Page 72 of House of Royals

He doesn’t wait for me to react. He hauls me onto it. “But Ian!” I scream as he starts to drive away.

“He’s dead,” Rath says as he wraps one of my arms around his waist. “There’s nothing you can do for him now.”

I look back toward Ian as we start speeding down the driveway. Instead, I see Jasmine, darting after us.

Like he knew exactly where she was, Rath turns in his seat, gun extended, and shoots. He catches her in the chest, on the right side, and she goes down. Rath guns the gas, and we rip through the pale light.

We’re nearly back to the Estate before I realize that Rath is covered in blood. And it isn’t just Ian’s blood—Ian’s blood—transferring from me to him. Rath is bleeding everywhere.

The gates to the Estate swing open as it comes into view. Gravel spits everywhere as we race up the drive. We pull straight into the garage and it shuts behind us.

“Come on,” Rath says in the dim light. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He has to help me off of the motorcycle. I’m a frozen, in shock statue. And my dress is tangled around me. Everywhere. Rath places one hand under my elbow, the other on my waist and half drags me off of the bike. With stiff, shuffling steps, we walk into the house.

Two of the staff members wait for us in the kitchen. They stand there, hands folded in front of them, at attention.

“Draw Miss Ryan a bath,” Rath instructs the woman. She darts off without hesitation. Rath turns to Antonio. “You lock down the house. No one comes in tonight. No matter what.”

The man nods and heads off.

“Come on,” Rath says. He’s still holding onto me and it’s only now that I realize how much of my weight he is supporting. He winces as we try to make our way toward the stairs.

As we round the corner into the foyer, I see the dead body lying in the middle of the floor. When we get closer, I see it’s one of the gardeners. Juan.

There’s a knife embedded into his back.

Somehow still possible, my face blanches all the more.

But I don’t ask. My brain can’t process more. More death. More blood. More everything. I concentrate on taking the stairs one at a time.

Rath guides me into the bathroom where the water is running and the water is frothing with bubbles. When I simply stand there, numb and empty, Rath instructs Angelica to help me undress and get into the water.

Most of the blood was soaked into my dress, but a healthy amount covers my arms, my chest, and my face, so the water of the bath instantly turns a shade of pink.

It’s a literal bloodbath.

When the water is full, the woman shuts it off and exits the room. I hear Rath muttering quietly to her, but the words don’t process in my brain.

Rath limps into the room. I see the nasty gash in his leg. Wide and gaping. But not bleeding like it probably should. There’s another gash down his opposite arm, and claw marks down one side of his face.

He’s a wreck.

“Are you ready?” he asks as he sits on the divan. The bathroom is idiotically large enough to accommodate it.

For the first time, I meet his eyes. They’re deep and dark. They’re prepared and calm. Same as always.

Dependable, loyal Rath.

I’m so lucky to have him. Just as my father was.

I swallow, and nod.

Because I have to be. I have to not drown. I have to know how the events of the night happened.

“I was in the library,” Rath says. He rubs his dark hands together, but doesn’t look at them. I think they are itching for action. “Listing what would need to be done to the house to prepare for your resurrection. It was an hour until I needed to give Ian his next dose and I planned to give it to him in thirty minutes. Juan came in, which should have tipped me off. The garden staff have no business being in the house in the middle of the night. But he’s worked for the family for years with not a sign of betrayal. He said he needed to talk to me.”

My eyes fall to the injury on Rath’s leg.

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