Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four Page 3

  A gust of wind rattled the glass, prompting me to tighten the belt on my grey velvet robe. The thought of being trapped in the deep, dark abyss that lurked below that sheen surface of red was a recurring nightmare of mine …an odd phobia for someone who’d practically grown up on the lake.

  The steps behind me creaked and I swung around to see a shadow at the top of the stairs.

  “Sophia, is the boogeyman after you?”

  My throat relaxed. Gigi, was in her long emerald nightgown, her copper curls pulled back under a bandana. She joined me by the window and gave my shoulder a comforting pat. How that woman managed to look pulled together even in the dead of night was a mystery to me.

  “Nightmare,” I said, forcing my legs to move and follow her into the open concept kitchen. She switched on the kettle and I sat on one of four stools at the island facing her as she tinkered about.

  “How about some chamomile?” she said, her eyes crinkling as she smiled, “or maybe you’d prefer milk with honey—”

  Warm milk with honey was her cure-all for everything. In the last two years ago, we’d switched to the more grown up beverage of tea. Truth be told, I liked strong black coffee better, but Gigi was not easily swayed.

  “There will be blood on the moon soon—the first of the tetrad,” she said, pulling two mugs down from the cupboard.

  “What’s a tetrad?”

  “It’s rare; it’s when four lunar eclipses happen within two years.”

  “So, they’ll be another eclipse this year?”

  “Yep. It’s been prophesized as something supernatural.”

  I cleared my throat. The thought made me uncomfortable, although I didn’t know why. Gigi opened the fridge behind her and pulled out the milk, “It’s all just hocus pocus of course.”

  “Of course,” I agreed, doing my best to sound confident like her.

  “So, what was the bad dream about? Losing your parents?” Gigi asked, softening her tone.

  I shook my head. “Murder.”

  Gigi shot me a nervous look and poured the tea. “Your cousin Emma’s murder? You haven’t mentioned that in years? I thought you’d forgotten.”

  I turned back to face the darkness of the lake beyond the window, unsure of what she was talking about. The moon was receding now and thankfully taking with it the details of the nightmare. Gigi stood there, waiting for my response.

  My throat tightened even before I spoke the words. “No, I dreamed I was murdered.”

  THREE

  L ight streamed through the terrace doors of our luxurious, belle époque villa in the heart of Cannes, the sunlight glinting playfully off the sapphires in my hand. Suddenly, the hairs stood on the back of my neck. I’d always had a pretty good sense of intuition. My grandmother teased me that I was part Fae. Whatever the reason, my gut was screaming.

  “Don’t move a muscle or I will snap zat pretty little neck of yours!”

  I swallowed, remaining still but glancing at the hooded figure out the corner of my eye, the hand on my great-grandmother’s sapphire reflexively tightening.

  “Pass me ze amulet and you won’t get hurt.”

  “No, please.” I begged. “These are costume only. Let me get you cash instead.”

  I reached down from my seated position, under the make-up table for my purse, shaking and scolding myself the entire time. What had I been thinking, bringing along my most prized possession? Hadn’t Nick warned me about the crimewave hitting the southern part of France. Speaking of which, where was he? I could use a little help.

  “I said, don’t move!” The voice was right behind me now. Low, whispered and menacing as hell.

  I froze awkwardly in place, still somewhat bent forward.

  His fingers caressed my shoulder first. Snaking their way down to my lacey black bra, squeezing and kneading.

  I glanced down, remembering with increased panic that I hadn’t dressed. Without thinking it through, I pushed his gloved hand away and sat upright prepared to flee and immediately caught his gaze in the mirror. He peeled the panty hose from his head and howled with laughter.

  “Oh, Sophia. You should have seen your face!” The sound of Nicholas Bexx, Jr.’s laughter made me want to claw his face off.

  He reached out to hug me.

  “I can’t believe you just did that.” I shouted, pushing him away. “You bastard! Do you have any idea how scared I was?”

  “Oh, Sofa. I was just playing around.”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  His nickname for me was like nails on a chalkboard.

  “Anyway, I was only trying to prove a point: that it’s not safe for girls to travel here on their own.” His voice had an edge to it. I’d almost forgotten we were arguing before he’d stormed off. Then again, we were always arguing so why keep track.

  “Betty’s hardly a girl. She’s eighteen, Nick. That’s an adult even if she doesn’t act like one.” I stood up and thrust my chin out, walking to my suitcase where I’d left my sunglasses and paperback. “Anyway, the answer is still no, so stop trying to gaslight me.”

  “Sophia, be reasonable.”

  His definition of reasonable included me agreeing to his demands and accepting his lies without question—typical narcissist.

  But no way. Not this time.

  “Betty is not coming with us and if you don’t send her away, I’m out of here.” Faster than her dignity, and your hair.

  Of course, I didn’t actually say that last part even though it made me smile evilly inside. He was as sensitive as he was vain.

  “Uh-huh. You would just take off and leave me. Why are you so jealous?”

  “Jealous?” I snarled. Now that was the skunk calling the rose foul. It was truly absurd that I was squirreled away like one of Nick’s showpieces, barely allowed to see my best friend and grandmother; meanwhile hanger-on-Bony-Betty-Rockcliff had a permanent, Velcro attachment to my boyfriend’s behind. I’d threatened to put a luggage tag on her if I turned around once more and found her in the airport lineup behind us. I kept my expression calm, though I was quietly seething underneath.

  “She just happens to be traveling in the South of France at the same time as us. So what?”

  “And Paris… and Greece… and everywhere else we travel, Nick. Do you think I’m a clueless idiot?”

  He smiled and I knew the answer. Not that he was wrong. I had been naive up until this point.

  “Most of my friends travel Europe right now.” His tone shifted to the terse, coldly annoyed one he used on waiters and hotel staff.

  “Good, I’m glad most of your friends travel Europe right now. She’ll have lots of options as to who she wants to intrude on next.”

  “Don’t be catty, Sophia. It doesn’t suit you. I don’t know why you’re being so difficult lately. You know, most people would jump at the chance to move here.”

  Here we go. This was the part of the argument where he switched everything around on me because I refused to move to Europe with him. Poor, poor, pitiful Nick.

  Sometimes I wished I was magical like one of the characters in my paperbacks. Then I could snap my pretty little fingers and disappear. Instead I sipped my water and bolstered my strength. It was now or never. “Cut the crap, Nick. I know Betty propositioned you last night on the terrace.”

  “Oh, really? And here I thought you had one of your headaches? Oh Nick, my head is pounding. I have to sleep,” he mocked.

  “Well, I wasn’t asleep and I heard everything.”

  Brief silence from Nick.

  “I can’t believe you.” Outrage now. “You were eavesdropping….”

  I tapped my foot. This guy was unbelievable.

  “I wasn’t eavesdropping, but when you still hadn’t come to bed at midnight I went looking and guess what I heard?”

  “We were just having drinks. Nothing happened.”

  “Oh, I know nothing happened because she was so blitzed, she could hardly stand, but I heard what she suggested and you didn’t exactly sou
nd outraged. As a matter of fact, you sounded flattered and, you didn’t decline,” I added, my voice breaking.

  He walked to the other room and then returned; all prior conversation forgotten. “What did you do with my aviators?”

  I swallowed hard. Nick had a disturbing way of turning his emotions on and off when it suited him, or so it seemed. Tears prickled in my eyes, which was silly because I knew he would avoid this topic and I planned on breaking up with him anyway. Without realizing it, I’d squeezed the jeweled necklace so hard my knuckles were turning white which looked strange against the bright yellow taxi cab colored nail polish. I loosened my grip and dropped it back into the box.

  “The maid put them on the bathroom shelf.”

  An outburst of profanity followed the slamming of the bathroom door. I rolled my eyes and resumed admiring my jewelry collection. It was just a matter of time before I would be rid of him. My finger tingled as I slipped on the sapphire ring, pausing to make sure it wasn’t too tight. Nope. My circulation was fine.

  I shook the feeling away, and checked the time.

  “Oh shoot! We’ve got to go,” I called to Nick. “We’ll be late for the excursion.”

  “They can wait,” he grumbled, opening the bathroom door.

  A weary sigh broke from my chest as I stood and collected my bag. “No, they cannot. This isn’t one of your private charters, your highness.”

  “Well, why the hell not. It’s not like we can’t afford it. I don’t know why you insist on acting so…”

  “…So, so what… Nick? So human, so humble?”

  So poor? Was what he’d meant.

  He swallowed, and for once wisely didn’t finished his thought.

  “There are twenty of us, departure is ten o’clock sharp. Meet me at the café and don’t be late.

  FOUR

  J ust down the street, on my way to the café, I found a bookstore that was already open. It was a small, claustrophobic little shop typical of Europe but it was filled with books and that was all that mattered—especially to a bibliophile.

  I wandered inside and picked up a book on the Grimaldi family history, and flipped a few pages only to discover it was nothing special, just stuff I already knew about the royal family of Monaco. The spiral of scandal, betrayal, and divorce. Paternity suits, out-of-wedlock children and divorces, blah, blah, blah. Tell me something new. I kept flipping until I came across the Princess’s name from the psychic’s research: Sapphira. The word cursed relic jumped out at me. My interest was officially piqued and it was on clearance. Thank you ereader generation.

  I picked it up and slid it onto the counter at the front of the shop. The young girl in the black rimmed glasses smacking her bubble gum and scrolling social media, frowned at having been interrupted, but rang me up anyway.

  “Enjoy your book,” she said, immediately going back to her cell phone.

  “Sure will,” I said waving the book in the air.

  Just down the street, I took a seat on the Armani patio and ordered a cappuccino and a chocolate croissant. Not the breakfast of champions but when in France, right? For the next fifteen minutes, I poured over the Princess’s history and decided that it was indeed a good buy.

  “Ms. Marcil,” the waiter said, returning with my second cappuccino. “Are you still expecting company?”

  “I’m afraid not,” I said, adjusting my sunglasses. “I’ll take the bill now, please.”

  I glanced up the Boulevard de la Croisette in the direction of our villa and continued to read for another five minutes before a near-by giggle snapped me back to the present.

  As I looked up at Nick’s smug face, I frowned, realizing I’d actually been excited at the prospect of adventuring on my own—or was it just the thought of getting rid of him.

  “You made it,” I said, drily, “…and you brought company.” I looked daggers at his cheap Velcro sidekick, she was in one of her trademark see-through tops. Today it was white and her bra was black—probably like her soul.

  He had the decency to look momentarily shamed. “I hope you explained that our spots on the boat are reserved. No strays,” I said pointedly and picked up my bag as I stood.

  Nick coughed and blushed as he looked from me to Betty.

  “I asked them to bring another coffee and pastry when you arrived but there’s no time now. Why did it take you forty minutes to get here?”

  Betty licked her lips and smiled.

  “Oh, hey girl. That was my bad. Of course, I’m sure you didn’t mind. I see you’ve got your nose in a book. That’s pretty much where you like it, right? Aside from in the air.”

  I had the urge to spill the foam left in my cup on her but I figured she’d already had enough liquid spritzed on her today. Damn! The claws were out. Nick turned away from me as if he knew what I was thinking. “We’ll see you later, Betty.”

  Betty turned to Nick in surprise and then she looked daggers at me.

  “Bye, Betty,” I repeated, more aggressively.

  Betty turned red, stuttered and left.

  Nick laid his hand on mine. “I’m sorry, Sophia. I ran into her at the Intercontinental Café on the way here and, before I could stop her, she’d ordered me coffee and eggs.

  “Coffee and eggs, huh?” I glanced at his zipper which he’d forgotten to zip all the way back up.

  He must have realized what I was accusing him of because he turned away to fix himself.

  I tried not to grin as I looked at my watch and pushed past him.

  FIVE

  Kingdom of Sardinia, 1857

  P rincess Sapphira Grimaldi struggled to consciousness. Stretching, she sat up and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Her bedroom chambers were empty and yet, she could hear muffled voices echoing from the direction of the fireplace.

  Her brother must be having one of his secret meetings, she thought sleepily as she strained to hear.

  “I was sorry to hear about your father, Will. He was one hell of a treasure hunter,” the voice paused and then softened, “and a good friend to my father. So difficult to believe that they’re both gone now, isn’t it? But it’s good that you’re carrying on with his adventures.”

  Fully awake now, Sapphira moved off the bed—running her fingertips along the mantle looking for the switch that would allow her to fulfill her curiosity.

  Yes, it was definitely her brother, Prince Charles speaking, and it sounded like he was headed to the palace’s inner sanctum—their father’s secret royal treasure trove.

  Her fingers found the spot and the fireplace opened. The voices grew louder instantly. Holding her breath, she stepped inside the dark tunnel and scurried to catch up to the flickering shadows.

  “Thank you, Charles. We’re still searching for his killer. It’s hard to believe he survived the rebels’ attack only to return home and die of a mugging.

  That was definitely William Ferris up ahead with her brother. She recognized the accent. He was speaking about his father’s death. Sapphira had heard Charles discussing it last month. Will Sr. had survived the rebels’ attack on the Sati Chaura Ghat in India only to die at home.

  Her brother’s voice pulled her from her own thoughts.

  “Well, let me know if I can help. Anyway, I thought your father was searching a temple. What was he doing with the East Indian Company Army?”

  “The General was a friend. He was staying as his guest.”

  One of the men stumbled. Sapphira wasn’t sure who.

  “Careful, Will. You don’t look so well, yourself. Are you ill?”

  “Well, that’s a hell of a thing to say, Chuck.”

  Charles laughed. “I apologize. I’ve no one to keep me in line, anymore. Aside from my sister, of course, who would rather chew off her own tongue then hold it.”

  “Yes, I can only imagine, but it’s good for you. Ruling a kingdom can do bad things to a man’s ego.”

  They had slowed. Sapphira followed the light down the tunnel, careful to stay three paces behind.


  “You’re not wrong though. I’m exhausted, it’s been taxing. Father had a run of bad luck before he died, and it’s left us with some debt. I’ll feel better once this is all over.”

  Charles nodded, moving to the left and touching the stone wall.

  The wall moved. Saphira remained close but just out of sight around the bend.

  “I’m happy to help you out, my friend and, of course, add to the royal collection. Sapphira’s birthday is soon and I must leave her. This will be her first birthday without our father and I hate to go when she’s out of sorts but I haven’t a choice. She’s obsessed with Perrault's magical fairy tales and I’m hoping that faerie stone you mentioned will bring her comfort. I’ve already spoken to the jeweler.”

  “A better brother no one could have. The sapphire will make a lovely amulet.”

  Charles inhaled and Sapphira inched closer as swiftly as she could in an attempt to see what he was in awe over. A small avalanche of pebbles fell to the ground, alerting the men to her presence.

  “Spy!” Will shouted.

  Her brother, Charles spun back and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her into the light.

  “No, only a rat.”

  Sapphira smiled timidly.

  “Your Highness, it’s lovely to see you again.” Will leaned forward and kissed her hand.

  “Hello, Will,” she whispered.

  Charles jerked her arm. “Don’t you know better than to spy? You could have been hurt.”

  “By you. Oh please, Chuckie.” She turned back to the jewel. The bottom was flat, like an egg that had been chopped in half, and the top practically glowed.

  “I told you not to call me that. I’m the Prince now. You have to refer to me by title.”

  “Not in here I don’t. In here, you’re simply my shifty older brother.”

  “And you’re my irksome little sister.” He ruffled her hair. “But seriously, next time, call out so we don’t hurt you.”