Page 68 of The Agent and the Outlaw
Yours,
Antoine
“Oh, hell.”
24
ANTOINE
December 17, 1767
Château de Sade,Condé-en-Brie
I’d heardall I needed to hear. The longer I listened to them talk, the more things took shape in my own mind. Puzzle pieces began to fall into place, connecting Louis’s death to the blood plague, theMarquis de Sadeand thebêtes de sang.I may not have the evidence to support my suspicions, but hearing my father threaten Charlotte had brought about the clarity I needed to see the bigger picture.
He is here for me.Not because he wanted to see my safe return, but because I am one of the few people who could work out the truth of his crimes. I was the one in danger, after all. I knew exactly what my father intended—he would go through Charlotte to get to me. She might not fear him, but she didn’t know how diabolical and cruel he could be. I did. I couldn’t let anything happen to her. I wouldn’t.
It was obvious he suspected our connection, otherwise, he wouldn’t have shown up at her doorstep to threaten her. The move was bold, but odd—it was reckless to ostracize a known member of the Order, especially when he knew her connections and her supernatural state. I’d seen her in wolf form. The vision still terrified me.
My father’s actions were that of a desperate man: unpredictable, treacherous, selfish. He was like an animal caught in a trap, obviously fearing the repercussions of the king discovering what he’d done. He would attempt to bury the evidence.
I pulled my cloak tighter around my body, leaning over the horse that I’d stolen from Charlotte’s stables.She’ll have to forgive me.The frozen wind lashed against me. I had spared no time in setting off for theMarquis de Sade’sestate outside Paris. Before confronting my father, I wanted to be certain my suspicions were correct.
I need proof! And I know just where to get it.
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it sooner, but my need for revenge had obscured more of my logic than I cared to admit. My father had burned the damning letters that would have seen him hanged, but that had only beenhalfof the correspondence. Sade would have my father’s letters, and I’d wager they were locked away in his study—assuming my father hadn’t already sent his vampire guard dogs to destroy the evidence of his treachery. As ill-advised as it was for me to break into my murder victim’s home, I didn’t think it could be helped. I needed to know if I was right. I prayed that for once, luck would be on my side and I’d be able to retrieve my father’s letters to Sade.
It took me a day to reach the grand estate. Despite the master being dead only a short time, the residence appeared mostly empty. I could see one lit window and carriage tracks in the snow up the drive, but sensed no domestic bustle in and around the building.Perhaps the staff are at another one of the marquis’s homes for the winter.
I guided my horse into a thicket of trees alongside the road and watched, waiting. My hands felt frostbitten, and my cheeks were raw from the cold, but it was worth the discomfort to ensure I’d be alone. Finally satisfied, I circled the back of the manor and stabled the horse, taking great care to not be seen. The gardens were winter barren but looked a touch overgrown, making me wonder how long it had been since the marquis had been here. I peered in window after window but found no one.
I saw the flickering glow of firelight in an upstairs window and tensed.Who would be here?There was a back balcony with large windows—if I could find some purchase, I could pull myself up and enter through the French doors.My father had always taught me to appreciate the element of surprise.
Once I swung myself up over the balcony railing, I faced the large doors to a small study, and lo—there he was, sitting at the desk.My father.It was as if no time had passed. His face looked perhaps a bit more gaunt, but his eyes still glinted with the arrogance I remembered from childhood. I seized my moment and kicked the doors in, which crashed open in an eruption of broken glass and fractured wood. He startled but recovered quickly. His hand fell upon the pistol at his side, but so did mine. When he saw me and recognition dawned, his face twisted in a grimace of disgust.
“Antoine! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His hand did not leave his weapon.
“Hello, Father. I could ask you the same question.”
“Don’t be impertinent,” he snarled. “Where have you been? Why have you come here?”
“I suspect you and I are here for the same reason—your letters to Sade,” I growled.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he shot back. His bluster didn’t hide his twitching hand, however, and I looked down at the desk to see a thick stack of letters.
I chuckled humorlessly. “Well, for once, my timing has been fortunate. Hand them over, Father, or I shall shoot you and take them.”
“You’rewhat? How dare you say such a thing to me! The fact that you would even consider…after everything I’ve done for you! You must be stark raving mad,” he shot back.
“No, Father. You see, after Marie and Louis’s deaths, I thought of little else but paying you back tenfold for what you did to them. I dreamt of Sade’s death, and yours, for too many nights.No longer.I don’t wish to kill you any longer, but I will if necessary. I don’t want the responsibility of your fate on my hands. I’m going to take those letters and report your actions to the king.”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What actions?”
“Yourbêtes de sang, for a start. That you had intentions of creating an entire army of vampire soldiers who would answer to you and only you. That I had the evidence, but that you destroyed it,” I said.
“No one will believe you,” he smirked. He picked up the stack of letters and I eyed him guardedly. “Least of all the king.”
“They will believe me when I tell them you planned as much with theMarquis de Sade.”
