Page 109 of Chain Me
“He owned her,” Dublin said, phrasing the words as carefully as he could. “Once. It was not a mutual partnership, if you can’t already tell.”
I nodded, hunched over my limbs. My shoes were off, and a thin blanket crumpled at the end of the couch made me suspect that someone originally draped me beneath it. “What did he do to her?”
“He abused her skills for his own gain and warped her mind just as viciously as Mero’s poison did yours.”
I cringed. Even now, that crippling, whispering doubt still snuck into the silence when I least expected it.You’re worthless, Eleanor.A part of me feared it would never completely cease—and Dmitri seemed more than capable of such manipulation. I could still picture the dazed girl he’d brought to the opera, fully under his sway.
“That’s horrible,” I rasped.
“Neither of them will ever harm you again,” Dublin swore. He was beside me in an instant, brushing his fingers along my hand, including the one sporting his ring.
“Tell me.” I curled my fingers around his and marveled at the sight of my slim ones, intertwined with his larger, albeit more graceful appendages. “Tell me what happened between them.”
“She was devoted to him,” he said. “Wholly. Perhaps he thought she loved him? Either way, he enjoyed testing her, pushing her skills to their very limits. He would have her dress in clothing designed to tempt men and women alike and watch her struggle to ward them off. He would pit her against other witches with her skill and punish her should she fail.” He frowned at the memory and I felt my heart lurch. Any cruelty that could arouse even Dublin’s pity had to be unimaginable. “One night, he went too far and I intervened.”
“And then you offered her a contract?”
He frowned. “Let’s say I made Dmitri an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
“And she’s been with you ever since?” I spoke softly, lost in thought as I tried to imagine just how old Yulia might be. She looked no older than I was on the surface, but there was no mistaking the ageless wisdom glinting in her gaze. “All this time and you’ve kept her away from him, I’m assuming?”
Dublin said nothing, though he didn’t have to. I could already guess that part of the tale.Yes.
“And she’s upset because you made her face him now,” I suspected. But no, it was more than that. “Youforcedher to—”
“I had to.” He didn’t sound even remotely apologetic. Guilty, yes, but his eyes burned as determinedly as ever.
It was a harrowing reminder: He was more than willing to sacrifice even the trust of his few friends in order to get what he wanted. Which, in this case, seemed even more obscure than usual: the location of someone who might or might not be found there anyway.
“But she will forgive me,” he said, sounding more than confident of that. “She’s strong enough to face him, or I would never allow him in her orbit. I suspect her unpleasant reaction is merely her fear. He controlled her for so long, I wonder if she doubts that she can withstand him, even now?” He inclined his head, mulling over the prospect. “She’s known all along that she would have to face him eventually. That he still holds some part of her soul she can never erase. Running from him could stave off the inevitable for only so long.”
The wistful, deepening note in his voice warned me that he wasn’t solely speaking of Yulia and Dmitri anymore.
“That’s remarkably astute,” I admitted. “For a man who is keeping the poor, innocent woman in his protection away from her only sister.”
He flinched and dismissed the comparison with a shrug of his shoulder. His voice low, he countered, “Dmitri would never pose the risk ofkillingYulia.”
Fair enough.I swallowed hard, tearing my gaze away.
“Why go through all this trouble anyway?” I wondered, returning to our previous, safer, topic.
He sighed. “As Dmitri said, we needed information. A way to reverse—” He broke off, forming a fist with the hand he withdrew from me. “Just trust that my reasons are more than valid.”
Rather than press the issue any further, I settled deeper into the leather cushions beneath me and watched the breathtaking scenery from the nearest window. “Where are we?”
Somewhere far more beautiful than the grim interior of a vampire lair, at least. Silvery clouds streaked with violet painted the edges of the navy sky. The sight reminded me of Dublin in a way: dark except for a few barely imperceptible dashes of color. Beautiful. Frightening. Navigable only with courage and ample skill.
“Somewhere safe,” he replied, his back to me. “Somewhere safe…in the rural of France.”
“Ah,” I croaked, somehow not surprised. Apparently, Dublin had a knack for amassing reclusive properties—as well as for transporting an unconscious woman across the globe.
At a glance, this house appeared smaller than the last, yet the plain décor seemed cozier than even his lavish high-rises and manors.
“A tour?” I requested, extending my hand.
He took it, helping me to my feet. Whatever drug he had given me had little aftereffects, thankfully. I felt steady as I fell into step beside him.
The foyer was small, the walls inside reflecting the simplistic design of the sitting room. Hardwood and soft gray cast a neutral elegance. I was instantly endeared.
