Dark Overlord New Horizon Read online

  “You mean our friends.”

  “Yes. Are you happy?”

  “Are you kidding me? I’m just stunned. I can’t believe we have a house all to ourselves. It’s awesome.”

  Was it his imagination, or did her voice falter on the last word?

  “I hope you are not angry at me for being presumptuous and asking for a house without checking whether you wanted to move in with me. I just assumed that you’d be okay with that.”

  Jin lifted her hand to his cheek. “Of course I am, silly. I told you that my future is with you.”

  8

  Vlad

  Vlad put his guitar away and took his coat off. It should have felt good to be back home in the village, but he was too empty on the inside to feel anything.

  After stripping out of the clothes he had worn for the past two days, he got into the shower and turned the lever almost all the way up. The hot water couldn’t wash the stain of failure from his mind, but it might help relax his knotted muscles.

  The ride back to the keep had been the worst experience of his life, with Wendy’s actual betrayal coming in second place.

  Sitting in the back seat of the car with her and seeing her misery had been gut-wrenching, and forcing himself to do nothing about it had shredded his damn soft heart.

  Bowen had blindfolded Wendy, tied her hands together, and secured the rope to the seat so she couldn’t lift them to take the blindfold off. And that had been a big problem since she’d kept sobbing miserably and wetting the blindfold. Not only that, her nose had been running, and she couldn’t wipe it off herself, so Vlad had been forced to do it for her. There had been no tissue in the car, so he’d used her long scarf for that. By the time they had parked across from the keep, the entire thing had been covered in snot, and he had tossed it into the trash.

  Throughout the ride, Wendy had kept murmuring that she was sorry, but since he hadn’t responded, she’d quit and just sobbed quietly.

  If it had been possible for him to keep his anger up, the ride might have been less of a nightmare. Instead, he’d felt sorry for Wendy, and the urge to wrap his arms around her and forgive her had been nearly overpowering.

  The effort it had taken to keep his distance had turned his shoulders and back into one solid mass of knotted muscles.

  Thankfully, once they had reached the keep, Bowen had locked Wendy in her former room, which was now fulfilling its original purpose as a prison cell.

  Vlad no longer had to look at her or hear her heart-wrenching sobbing, but after two hours of that during the ride back, her sniffles and apologetic murmurs kept playing on a loop in his head. He’d spent a sleepless night in Jacki’s old room, and this morning he’d headed home together with Ingrid and Mey, while the Guardians had stayed behind to watch over Richard and Wendy.

  “Vlad, lunch is ready,” his mother called from the other side of the door.

  “I’ll be right out.”

  “Jackson is here. He’s going to join us.”

  Great. So Jackson had heard already and had come to offer his sympathy. The village was like a computer network, with rumors spreading in real time. By now, everyone probably knew about Wendy’s betrayal and felt sorry for him.

  Evidently, the nightmare wasn’t over yet.

  Getting dressed in clean clothes made him feel a little better, and as Vlad brushed his hair, he didn’t let his long bangs fall over his left eye as he usually did. In defiance, he slicked them back and gazed into his mismatched eyes. Wendy might have been full of shit, and every word that had left her mouth had been a lie, but she’d been right about his eyes not being so bad. He should stop hiding behind his hair.

  It was difficult to live with imperfections when everyone around him had none, but Vlad was sick of hiding in the shadows because of that. He was a decent guy, he worked hard and studied hard, and that should be enough.

  His less than perfect looks should not make him an outcast among his own people.

  When he walked into the kitchen, his mother smiled up at him. “I’m so glad that you brushed your bangs away from your eyes. You look so handsome.”

  He leaned and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for making lunch. I’m starving.”

  “What else is new?” Jackson got up and pulled him into a bro hug. “You could always beat Gordon and me in an eating competition.” He clapped him on the back.

  “Except, nothing ever stuck to my bones.” Vlad winked at his mother.

  Jackson laughed. “I always wondered about that. Your body must burn fuel at double the normal rate for immortals.”

  “It would seem so. Nothing about me is normal, so why should food be any different?” Vlad pulled out a chair and sat down. “How come you can spare time for your old friend?”

  “Sometimes a guy has to prioritize, and when my best friend needs me, I should be there for you.” Jackson sat back down.

  “I don’t need you. But I’m glad that you are here.”

  His mother lifted the lid off the casserole. “Dig in, boys.”

  “Thank you, Stella.” Jackson cast her one of his megawatt smiles. “I’ve missed eating in your kitchen.”

  “You can drop by anytime. I’ll always have something for you.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate the offer, but usually I run around the city all day long. When I get home, I’m all Tessa’s.”

  “You can bring your lovely mate as well. It was so nice when you and Gordon used to come over. Then as soon as you finished high school, the three of you moved out and went to live over Nathalie’s café.”

  “We felt so grown up,” Jackson said. “Working in the café during the days and rehearsing and performing at clubs during the nights.” He sighed. “Those were good times.”

  Vlad chuckled. “You sound like an old man reminiscing about his youth. You have a mate, and you are running a successful business. Your good times are now.”

  When Jackson had moved in with Tessa and Gordon had gone to college in another state, Vlad had decided to move back with his mother. Independence had been fun, but with his friends gone, he’d preferred that to sharing a house with new roommates who were much older than him.

  Jackson pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair. “So, tell me what happened.”

  Vlad grimaced. “Didn’t you hear already? I’m sure the entire village knows.”

  His mother waved a dismissive hand. “No one knows anything. The only reason Jackson heard about Wendy was that Onegus contacted Vanessa.”

  Jackson nodded. “That’s right. Onegus wants my mother to talk to Wendy and see what’s up with her. Maybe she had a good reason to do what she did.”

  “I’ll leave you two alone.” Vlad’s mother got up and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got a big order to deliver to the theater by the end of the week, and the costumes are not going to make themselves.”

  “Thank you for lunch, Stella,” Jackson said. “Vlad and I will clear the table.” He smiled. “Like old times.”

  “You’re welcome. And thank you. I meant what I said earlier. Next time, bring Tessa along.”

  “I will.”

  When his mother left, Jackson leaned toward Vlad. “Get it off your chest, man. You will feel better.”

  With a sigh, Vlad leaned back in his chair and told Jackson a modified version of what had happened. The things he omitted were minor. Like the fact that Wendy was the first girl he’d kissed, or that he had believed that she was the one for him.

  He’d been so naive. Such a fool.

  “Maybe the director is holding something over her,” Jackson said once Vlad was done. “Maybe she has a young sibling or a cousin that he will retaliate against if she doesn’t spy for him.”

  “Wendy is an only child. Her mother left when she was young, and her father raised her alone.”

  “So maybe she was protecting her father?”

  Vlad shrugged. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. Bowen is going to erase her memories, and they will drop her o
ff somewhere. I’m never going to see her again.”

  “It’s not going to happen before my mother makes her assessment. Kian is not in a hurry to get rid of a possible Dormant. They are too hard to come by.”

  “Good luck with that. I’m done with her.”

  9

  Wendy

  When the door to Wendy’s cell started to swing open, she turned her head to see who it was, even though it could only be Bowen.

  No one else had come to visit her.

  “Lunch.” The guardian entered with a tray.

  On it was a sandwich from the vending machine, a can of coke, and a muffin, also from the vending machine.

  But at least they were feeding her.

  When Bowen had dumped her in the room and locked the door behind him, she had had the suffocating fear that she’d be left to die in there.

  The room she’d stayed in before had been turned back into its original purpose with the simple removal of the device controlling the door. The house phone was still there, so she probably could still call the security office, but they could just ignore her call even if she was dying from hunger or thirst. Wendy remembered that there was a set of rules about how countries should treat prisoners of war, but she doubted that these people adhered to the Geneva Conventions, whatever those were. She could just be a prisoner with no rights.

  Was she a POW?

  Not really. War prisoners didn’t get rooms with televisions, comfortable beds, and decent bathrooms. It could have been much worse.

  Bowen put the tray on the coffee table and turned around.

  “Wait,” she called after him. “What are you going to do with me?”

  “Me, personally?” He pointed at his chest. “Nothing. I’m just making sure that you don’t run away or make another call.”

  “I meant your organization.”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t been informed. But my guess is that someone will come in to erase your memories, and then you’ll be dropped off somewhere with pocket change to call your director to come to pick you up.”

  “That’s all?”

  He looked at her with unfettered disdain. “What did you expect? That we would torture you, or kill you?”

  The thought had crossed her mind once or twice. “I thought that Kian would want to question me.”

  “He might. As I said before, no one has informed me about Kian’s intentions for you."

  “Okay. Thank you for lunch.”

  When the door locked behind Bowen with an audible click, Wendy let out a breath and turned the television on. She had no doubt that she was being watched, and she didn’t want the watchers to see her cry.

  Mostly, she felt like crying because she was lonely and scared, and because of the guilt that was eating her alive.

  Still, what Bowen had said should have cheered her up.

  No one was going to torture her, and she was going to be dropped off somewhere. She would call her uncle, who would send for her, and this whole thing would be over. She wouldn’t even remember any of these people or what had happened to her in recent days. If they were good at erasing memories, the last thing she would remember would be sitting on a bench in the mall and waiting for Richard to finish buying shoes. It was like pressing rewind on a movie, only in her case, she wouldn’t remember watching anything beyond that point.

  She wasn’t going to remember Vlad or the hurt look in his eyes when he’d discovered her betrayal, and she wouldn’t remember Mey or the angry looks she’d gotten from her, Ingrid, and even Richard.

  Wendy was going to miss them, but she wasn’t going to miss Bowen and Leon. Those two tough guys were acting the most hostile toward her, and her tears had no effect on them.

  Vlad, on the other hand, had been affected by her misery and then some, fighting the urge to put his arm around her the entire drive back to the underground. The sweet fool wanted to console her despite the way she’d treated him.

  Wendy was going to miss him the most.

  She had a feeling that Vlad would be the biggest regret of her life.

  One stupid phone call that had achieved basically nothing had ruined everything. By the time the director could have sent people to the address she’d given him, she and the others had been long gone from there, and all traces of their stay in the cabin had been erased. He might even think that it had been a prank.

  The phone call had achieved one thing, though. Wendy was going home to the program, and her life would resume as if it had never been paused.

  Yay.

  Wendy choked down a sob. It hurt to think that no one here was going to remember her fondly.

  Especially Vlad.

  But it was for the best. Regret for what could have been was not as bad as regret for what was and couldn’t be undone. If she hadn’t called the director and had stayed with Vlad, a relationship with him would have been inevitable, and he would have most likely disappointed her like her father had disappointed her mother.

  As difficult and heart-wrenching as it was, she had done the right thing, putting an end to it before it had even begun. No matter what, Wendy wasn’t going to repeat her mother’s mistakes.

  10

  Kalugal

  After talking with Kian, Kalugal spent the rest of the morning going over his portfolio, selling some stocks, buying others, and making phone calls to check on his numerous startups.

  By lunchtime, he'd run out of excuses. It was time to implement his plan, and he dreaded it. Perhaps he could ask Rufsur to do it?

  That way, he would kill two birds with one stone. He would conduct the test and at the same time ruin any hope Rufsur might have harbored of getting Jacki to respond to him.

  Except, Kalugal had never asked his men to do things that he wouldn’t have done himself. Well, except for cleaning toilets or scrubbing floors, but no one expected him to do that.

  Regrettably, though, what he had in mind didn’t fall under the category of domestic duties. It was more like running through a minefield under enemy fire. He could ask for volunteers, but he couldn’t command anyone to do that.

  Besides, Rufsur might refuse the order, and then Kalugal would have to throw him in the brig for insubordination.

  Not only that, there was another problem with having someone other than himself implement the plan. It would only prove or disprove the existence of Jin’s tether to Jacki, but not the one attached to him, which was more important.

  Taking a deep breath, he rose to his feet and walked over to the bookcase that concealed the passageway between his office and the library. A slight push was all that was needed to get the thing to swing open, and the well-oiled pivot barely made a sound.

  He found Jacki sleeping curled up on the couch with an open book resting face down on her ample chest. It was rising and falling with each of her deep breaths and tilting precariously on each inhale.

  The situation made his task even more difficult.

  Chickening out, he walked over to the bar, poured himself a drink, and then sat on the armchair across from Jacki and watched her sleep while sipping on his whiskey.

  More than half an hour passed before she stirred, causing the book to slide off her chest and land with a loud thud on the floor, waking her up.

  “Oh, damn.” Jacki unfolded her long limbs and reached for the book, only noticing him when she lifted it onto her lap. “How long have you been sitting there?”

  “Not long. I came to ask you to join me for lunch, but you were sleeping so peacefully, and I didn’t want to wake you up. What were you reading that has bored you so?”

  She lifted the book and turned it so he could read the embossed lettering.

  “War and Peace.” He nodded. “I can see how it could put a contemporary reader to sleep. Today’s literature is more action-packed.”

  She glanced around his sprawling library. “Most of what you have in here is non-fiction. Do you ever just read for fun?”

  He smiled. “I find learning new things enjoyable.”
/>   Jacki grimaced. “Good for you.”

  “What do you like reading?”

  The peachy color of her cheeks reddened. “I like spy stories, romance novels, and sci-fi, but only if it has romance in it.”

  Kalugal lifted his hands in apology. “Regrettably, I have nothing of the sort in my library. The best I have to offer are political-intrigue novels.”

  “Not my idea of fun.” Pushing to her feet, she stifled a yawn. “This place is so big, and you have so many books that I thought that I’d missed the section of entertaining books, but apparently there are none. Did you say something about lunch?”

  Her long hair was a mess, with a big clump of tangled strands sticking out at the back, but it didn’t detract even an iota from her beauty. On the contrary, the 'just got out of bed' look was most enticing, and if not for his damn dastardly plan, Kalugal would have found it arousing.

  “Yes.” He put his empty glass on the side table, got up, and walked up to her.

  Standing very close, he was invading her personal space, but not to the extent to cause alarm.

  Not yet.

  “Your hair is very beautiful.” He reached with his hand and combed the messy clump with his fingers.

  “Ouch.” She gripped his wrist and tried to push his hand away. “It hurts.”

  Kalugal didn’t let go. Instead, he roughly grasped her hair and crushed his lips over hers.

  Too stunned to respond, Jacki didn’t fight him as he forced his tongue into her mouth, but when he pushed her down on the couch and got on top of her, she started to struggle.

  Hating what he was doing with every fiber of his soul, Kalugal didn’t enjoy the kiss, nor did he get aroused.

  What surprised him, though, was that Jacki did.

  Despite fighting him off with everything she had, the unmistakable scent of her arousal intensified.

  Some women enjoyed rough play, but usually not without prior consent. To get aroused by what he was doing to her, Jacki must be either extremely attracted to him or starved for sex.