Page 51 of The Doctor and the Devil
“So,” Daphne hedged. “We continue with our original plan. Only this time, Rafael, you will be responsible for Marguerite, as well. If she is a prisoner, she is to return with us. If she is in league with the Order…”
“If she is responsible for Laszlo’s kidnapping, I will kill her,” I growled.
“We don’t know that she is,” Mina said anxiously. “She could have been in trouble at the cemetery.”
“Ah, Mina, always looking for the best in people—even when there is very little to be found,” I said, still angry beneath my teasing smile. “So delightfully human.”
She straightened and glared. “Better than being a cynical old bloodsucker.”
Everyone turned expectant eyes on me, waiting to gauge my reaction and probably expecting me to fly into some monstrous rage. I was almost sorry to disappoint them.
I laughed heartily at her insult and was rewarded with the slightest smile on her lips.
“Guilty as charged,” I admitted. Then, with more gravity, I added, “But I’ll be surprised if Marguerite isn’t the one orchestrating Laszlo’s kidnapping in an effort to regain her freedom and any lingering wealth she feels entitled to.”
“Forgive the impertinence,” Charlotte interjected. “But is there any lingering wealth? If you were on the wrong end of a coup, I assume much of your holdings have been seized. I would expect Marguerite would draw the same conclusions.”
“We’re not returning to Wallachia for any crown jewels or royal residences, but yes, there is a considerable fortune that my brother is owed. As I said, it is unclear whether he or Marguerite are aware of that fact,” I replied.
Daphne nodded. “Knowing your sister-in-law, how do you think we should proceed?”
“As you said. Carry on with your original plan. I’ll deal with Marguerite,” I said.
Everyone seemed to agree, but there was palpable unease in the room now that we had another variable to consider. As the room emptied and we each steeled ourselves for the next steps, Mina stayed me with a hand on my arm.
“You cannot kill her,” Mina insisted. “Rafael, you must promise me. You don’t know what she’s been through, and you don’t know that she’s at fault. You go into this with your own prejudice, and it will end badly for everyone.”
Anger and hurt made me peevish, my brittle temper snapping.
“Why do you care? You don’t know her, Mina, any more than you know Laszlo. She might be the cause of the blood plague—of all that suffering you’ve been fighting to hold back. You should be begging me to put an end to her and free the world from the curse of the plague. Your life would be so much simpler then, wouldn’t it?”
The last thought was one I’d meant to keep to myself, but it was out now, souring the air between us.
Blustering through my embarrassment, I continued, hoping to avoid the damning words that sat upon her lips. “And anyway, she isn’t your family nor your responsibility. You can carry on with your part of the plan and then, when this is over, we can all move on.”
“What are you talking about? Move on?” Mina narrowed her eyes.
“It’s what you want, isn’t it? You’ve been clear with me from the beginning—you made your life and it’s better without me in it. I can respect that, Mina. We can leave what we’ve enjoyed behind, and you can return to your clinic and your research,” I said.
“Damn it, Rafael, would you stop trying to determine my life for me?” she shouted.
Anger made her face cold and storm clouds gathered in her sky-blue eyes. Her jaw clenched as she faced me, fierce and frustrated. I took an involuntary step back.
“Ever since our failed elopement, you’ve been deciding on our course of action without talking to me about it. You alone decided to stay and take up your family’s mantle when Laszlo left. You forced me from your world after inviting me in, left me in bleak silence for twenty years, then determined you would come back, and we would have a future…without ever stopping to wonder if that’s what I wanted. You expect it to be easy, for me to be pliant—you expect that because I still have feelings for you and desire you, that it erases all the pain and hurt and memories? That my feelings for you solve all the problems that live between us? And when I don’t immediately uproot everything I’ve built over the last two decades, you determine it must be because I want nothing to do with you and I do not care for you, and all I want is your body?”
She advanced on me, jabbing her finger in my chest with each crushing point.
“You admit I am smart and capable, and yet you won’t even do me the courtesy of letting me make my own decisions. You make them for me under the guise of love because you are too afraid of what I will say and do if you let me have my choices,” she spat. “Still the spoiled young prince! You, Rafael, are too afraid of hard work. You don’t want the arguments, the responsibility for your actions, or the ownership of the pain you knowingly caused me. You want to move forward without paying the price. You want a future with me without healing our past. You want to find the cause of the blood plague so you can prove it’s not your fault. You want to blame Marguerite for your brother’s departure from your life without stopping to consider if your poisonous father or your youthful indiscretions had a hand in it. You want to absolve me of the responsibility of having to say no to you and risk breaking your heart when you wouldn’t afford me that consideration from the beginning.”
“I…” I opened my mouth to argue, but she held up her hand.
“I am not finished!” she continued. “You want me to agree to be with you forever without admitting that it would require a sacrifice on my part—that if Idon’twant to make that sacrifice, it must mean I don’t love you enough. You are drawing conclusions without examining all the evidence before you, which I can promise you will always lead you to the wrong answers. You say you are a scientist now, Rafael—a botanist. What evidence do you have to make these theories? And what right do you have to make any kind of choice in my stead?”
God, she was magnificent. Her eyes were blue fire, and the pink flush of outrage colored her cheeks. She was like a sunrise in her rage and fool that I was, I loved her all the more, even as she cut me to ribbons.
“Then what?” I asked, my voice low. “What is it that you want from me? If not my love, my protection, my hope…what?”
She closed her eyes and exhaled.
