Author: Tiffany Reisz

He raced from the room. Wes stared at Grace in shock, in horror, in confusion. In the distance he heard a car starting.

“Søren...he went to give himself up,” Grace said, still gasping for air. “He’s going to let her kill him.”

32

THE QUEEN

“He? He who?” Nora asked.

Damon grasped Nora by the upper arm and yanked her off the floor so hard he nearly dislocated her shoulder.

“You get one guess.”

Nora knew but she didn’t want to know, didn’t want to guess, didn’t want to make it real.

“I’ll give you a hint. She’s already planning the honeymoon.”

“Oh, God,” Nora whispered, bringing her cuffed hands to her face. “What’s she going to do to him?”

“I think she’s going to leave that up to you.” He pulled her into the hall and dragged her toward some destination unknown.

“Up to me? What do you mean?”

Damon didn’t answer, he only laughed, and the laugh was so cold and evil she would have clawed his eyes out if she could.

He threw open the door to the library and Nora gasped at the sight before her.

Søren knelt on the floor in the middle of the library. Andrei stood at Søren’s back. And from the serene look on Søren’s face, one would think he was a pious man kneeling for his morning prayers instead of a man with a gun to the back of his head.

“Søren!” Nora wanted to scream his name but it came out hoarse and broken. He opened his eyes and looked at her and she saw nothing in the gaze but love.

She started to run to him but Damon held her struggling in his arms. Squirming and writhing, she desperately tried to wrench herself from his iron grasp.

“Eleanor, calm down,” Søren ordered. “Don’t give them any excuse to hurt you.”

Everything within her rebelled but she did as Søren told her and forced herself to stop struggling.

“Damon, you can let her go,” came Marie-Laure’s voice from behind them. “She’s not the one who matters anymore.”

She sensed Damon hesitating but he released her. As soon as his arms left her, Nora raced forward and dropped, almost skidding on her knees to get to Søren as fast as she could. She raised her hands to his face, kissed his lips, leaned into him and breathed in the scent of him—winter even in summer.

“You lunatic,” she whispered, caressing his face, his mouth, with her still-bound hands, “why are you smiling?”

He gazed at her with new eyes, with eyes of almost-innocent wonder.

“It’s good to see you again, Little One. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. God, I missed you so much. You shouldn’t have come.”

“I had to.”

“He didn’t have to,” Marie-Laure said as she walked to them and started to circle them on the floor like a shark. “I would have killed you and then disappeared again. He loves you for whatever reason so I would have had all the vengeance I desired. But this...killing him? This is better.”

“You fucking b—”

“Eleanor, look at me,” Søren said, his voice calm but insistent. She did as he told her. There was no one else in the world she wanted to look at more, anyway.

She nodded and rested her head against his chest.

“You shouldn’t have come.” Nora wanted so badly to wrap her arms around him but the handcuffs held her wrists tight. “You should have let them kill me.”

“You know I couldn’t do that,” he chided. “I told you there was nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you.”

“Goddammit,” she said, resting her forehead briefly against the center of his chest before looking up at him. “Why do you love me so much, you stupid man?”

He smiled down at her.

“Because I met you.”

“This is all very sweet,” Marie-Laure said, still circling them. “But we do need to get this over with. I’m sick of this house, tired of this game. The boys are getting bored, too. They get restless when bored.”

“What do you want?” Nora asked. “We’ll give it to you. Money, apologies, firstborn children...anything.”

Marie-Laure stopped and gazed down at Nora.

“I want you to make a choice. It seems you have a pathological fear of making any definitive choices in your life. You flit from man to man and never completely commit to anyone. Once you make a decision, you don’t stick with it. You promised yourself to him,” she said, pointing at Søren, “and then you left him. You had another man in your life and you sent him away. Then you went back to my husband but you didn’t stay with him, either. Back and forth, back and forth. You make my head spin.”

“Imagine how I feel,” Nora said.

“I can’t. I can’t imagine you feel anything. If you did, you wouldn’t spend your entire life fucking men over.”

“Marie-Laure, that’s enough,” Søren said, giving her the barest glance before looking back at Nora again. “Your argument is with me and Kingsley. Eleanor was only a child when you and I married.”

“Oh, yes, defend her. The woman who spread for half the country while you stay locked up in your church praying for her soul.”

“I’ve never prayed for her soul,” Søren said. “Only for her happiness.”

“Doesn’t she look happy now?” Marie-Laure grabbed Nora by the chin and squeezed viciously hard before letting her go.

“I am happy,” Nora said, refusing to be cowed. “Of course I’m happy.”

“Why?” Marie-Laure asked.

Nora looked at Søren. “Because he’s here.”

“Mon Dieu, if this is what love is, I’m rather glad I was spared it. You two turn my stomach with your little show.”

“We should go,” Damon said, coming closer to them, a gun held in his hand. “If he’s here, then...”

“They’re afraid of Kingsley,” Marie-Laure explained. “I, however, am not. If he was going to try something he would have by now. He’ll let you two suffer and die while he’s off somewhere else not caring. I suffered for months right under his nose and he didn’t care, wouldn’t care.”

“He suffered, too,” Søren interjected. “I told you before we married that ours would be a marriage in name only. You agreed to it. You knew I didn’t love you.”

“You should have loved me.” Marie-Laure glared at him with the fires of hell burning in her eyes. “Everyone loved me.”

“And you loved no one,” Søren said without the slightest tinge of rancor in his voice. “You didn’t even love me. You were merely insulted that someone you desired didn’t desire you back. Kingsley knew what love was. You mistook desire and jealousy for love. You didn’t want a husband. You wanted a conquest. I only fascinated you because I wouldn’t give in.”

Marie-Laure said nothing for a moment. Nora shivered as a little smile danced across her lips.

“You’re right, my husband. I tried to seduce you and failed. I tried to woo you and failed. I tried to conquer you and failed. I will not fail again.”

“There is nothing to be gained by this,” Søren said. “If you kill me, what will you achieve? I’ll die still in love with her and never having loved you.”

“That’s true.” She nodded her agreement. “Too true. But perhaps you would be a bit easier to seduce now than you were all those years ago. Damon?”

Damon stepped forward and put his gun to the back of Nora’s head. Her heart stopped the second the cold, heavy metal touched her hair.

“Now...” Marie-Laure knelt on the floor next to them. Søren had seemingly stopped breathing the moment Damon pointed the gun at Nora. “Kiss me.”

“Søren, don’t,” Nora begged. “Not even to save my life. Don’t.”

But Søren ignored her. He turned his head and Marie-Laure rested her hand against his cheek. Nora’s stomach churned in revulsion as Marie-Laure pressed her lips to Søren’s with terrible ardor. Nora had seen Søren with Kingsley, seen him with submissives at the club, and never had she felt disgust or even the slightest shred of jealousy. In fact, she enjoyed watching him play with others, enjoyed watching others adore him. Seeing him forced to kiss Marie-Laure, seeing the tightness in his face that signaled his own disgust, his own revulsion, at being forced to do something so intimate with someone so foul, sent bile into the back of her throat. It was like watching someone piss on the Mona Lisa. It was like watching a rape.

Marie-Laure kissed Søren with endless passion and all Nora could do was watch.

“Merde...” Marie-Laure yanked back from the kiss and stared wide-eyed at Søren. Blood streamed from her lip.

Søren glanced at Nora and winked.

“Oh, no,” Nora taunted. “He bit you. Now you’ll turn kinky, too.”

Marie-Laure’s hand snaked out and slapped Nora viciously hard on the face, so hard she felt blood escape her nose.

When her vision cleared, Nora smiled at Marie-Laure.

“See? Told you so. You’re one of us,” Nora said.

Marie-Laure stood up and reached into Damon’s jacket pocket. From it she pulled out a black-handled dagger, sleek and lethal. She laid it on the floor between Nora and Søren.

“Let’s get this over with, then,” Marie-Laure said to Nora. “Time to decide, and this time, whatever decision you make will be quite permanent. You have a choice...you can walk out of this room right now and leave him with me. He’ll become my husband, my real husband, no pretense this time, and we’ll fly away together to my beautiful home far from here. And Damon and Andrei and a few of my other boys will make sure he stays inside and does every little thing I want him to like a good and attentive husband.”

“Or?” Nora asked. Whatever the other option was she’d already decided to choose. Søren forced into slavery, forced to service his madwoman sexually, forced to perform for her? Never. “I can already tell you I’m taking door number two.”

“Is that so? Well, let me tell you the other choice. It’s quite simple. You can take that dagger and you can shove it into his heart and let him bleed to death on this floor in front of your eyes, in front of mine. And while he’s bleeding to death, you walk away. By the time you reach the end of the driveway, I’ll already be on my way out of this ugly country.”

Nora let the words sink into her. She could let Søren live out the rest of his life a slave to this woman...

Or she could kill him with her own hands.

“Eleanor,” Søren whispered, giving her the most desperate and imploring look she’d ever seen on his face. No...the only desperate and imploring look she’d ever seen on his face.

“No helping.” Marie-Laure snapped her fingers in his face. “She decides, not you.”

But Nora had already decided. The choice was no choice at all.

Nora picked up the dagger. Søren sagged with relief.

“I want to say goodbye, first.” Nora clutched the knife tight to her chest. “I won’t do anything without saying goodbye.”

“You can say your goodbyes. I’d rather like to hear this. Go on.”

Marie-Laure crossed her arms over her chest and smiled. Nora ignored her, ignored the dagger in her hand, ignored the entire world around her. No one existed but Søren, and once he was gone, there would be nothing left.

She turned her eyes up to him.

“Søren...I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t you dare. We only have a few minutes left on this earth together and do not waste a moment of this time apologizing to me for your imagined sins.”