“Why are you doing this?” His father yanked on his shirt with his big callused hand—a nervous habit that had endured the years.
“Because his heart mate would be angry if he didn’t,” Zethan supplied.
His father didn’t react to Zethan’s comment. Instead, he squinted at Valek with his shrewd I-see-right-through-you expression that came from years of raising rambunctious boys. “That’s not the entire reason.”
“Let’s just say it will be beneficial for Ixia. Despite the rumors, I’m not just a killing machine.” This he said to his mother. “I do guard the interests of Ixia.” And my family. But Valek wouldn’t voice that aloud. “Go on.” He shooed them away. “No sense wasting time.”
They shuffled back to the house, appearing a bit dazed. Needing to move, lest his thoughts and emotions ambush him, Valek led Onyx and Smoke inside the gate. He fed them and gave them water. Then he groomed them. Every inch, until they practically glowed.
A door banged behind him. Valek spun and yanked a knife. Standing in the tannery’s entrance was Patxi, one of his corp. The man held out his stained hands. Valek relaxed and gestured Patxi over.
The tall man fidgeted under Valek’s scrutiny. “Sorry, boss, but this was the best way to protect your family. I’m with your father all day and sleep in the room above the shop. If something happens, I’m right here.”
“And Milya?”
“She helps in the house and stays in the guest room.”
“How did—”
“Your father discovered the agents long ago. When you assign new agents, we just take over the jobs. You can’t be too surprised, sir. You had to get your canny intuition from someone.”
Appealing to his ego—nice tactic. “Do you wish to be reassigned?”
“No. I’ve a feeling your visit today is going to cause a bit of a problem from the locals. I want to make sure Zeb doesn’t get into any trouble.”
“Is he a troublemaker?”
“He’s a fighter. And stubborn. Won’t back down ever. I’ve taught him a few moves to keep him from getting completely clobbered at the tavern.”
Interesting. “Recruitment potential?”
“Yes. And now he knows you’re his brother, it’s probably safer for him to get the full training.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Patxi nodded and returned to the tannery. By the time Valek finished cleaning the horses’ hooves, the sun hung low in the sky. Now what? Having no desire to see what had changed inside the tannery, Valek looped around it.
The three graves remained in the place that was scarred into his memory. Their names had been chiseled into the black granite headstones lined up in a row—Victor, Viliam and Vincent. At the end sat another, smaller stone without a name. Had his parents put that there to represent him? Perhaps it was better to believe that he was dead instead of an abomination.
But his father’s words—welcome home, son—didn’t match that sentiment. However, the knife in his mother’s hand clearly did.
He knelt next to Vincent’s grave. Running his fingers over the cold stone, Valek envisioned Vincent’s face. Grief surged through him. Valek wondered for the millionth time how his life would have been different if his brothers had lived. An idyllic scene with all of them older, married with children, gathered around the huge dining room table, laughing, teasing, complaining, arguing. His mother spoiling the grandchildren, his father teaching the next generation how to tan and dye leather.
Then the questions would start. Would the King’s family still be ruling Ixia? Would the monarch’s corruption make that homey scene impossible? Would he have been content to work in his father’s tannery? Would he be a different person?
And the most important question: Would he have met Yelena? The answer to that one was no. When he focused on her and their baby, then all this didn’t hurt so much. It still smoldered deep inside him, and he still wished his brothers hadn’t been killed. But the promise of having a family again pushed him past all the heartache and grief. Motivated him to find a way to get Ixia and Sitia back on good terms, so his future of laughter, teasing, debates and love would be...not quite assured, but would have much better odds.
“Thought I’d find you here,” his father said.
Valek straightened and wiped the dirt from his knees.
“I think of those boys every day.” His father tucked his hands into his pockets. Staring at the gravestones, he rocked on his heels. “Those soldiers that were killed about two years later...were they the ones?”
“Yes.”
Father lifted his head. “And that Captain who died in the woods?”
“He ordered his men to pick a family to use as an example of what happens when you don’t pay your taxes to the King.”
“And you lodged a complaint with the King?”
“Everyone knows I assassinated him. Why are you asking?”
“Rumors can’t be trusted.”
Valek waited.
“I want to hear it from you.”
“That I’m a killer, like Mother said? Yes. I am. I personally delivered my complaint to the King, Queen and the entire royal family.”
“How did it feel? Once you finished...complaining.”
“Satisfying and freeing. But by then, it wasn’t all about revenge. I’d seen the rot and the deaths the King and his family were responsible for. I agreed with the Commander’s vision for Ixia. He’d never murder a child because his parents couldn’t afford to pay taxes.”