My dark horse prince, p.9
My Dark Horse Prince, page 9
What he’s not doing is paying any attention at all to the woman who’s now left holding a blouse she didn’t want and staring.
I don’t approve of him pursuing me, but I can’t help enjoying how uniformly he rejected—that’s not the right word—dismissed her. That’s better. It was like he didn’t even notice she was there.
“This would look really great on you.” He pokes through the rack until he finds one that says medium. Then he slings it over his arm.
“I hate to rain on your parade,” I say.
“My parade?” He frowns.
“Never mind.” I sigh. Him not knowing any of these expression is a bummer. “It’s hard for me.” I drop my voice. “To try things on. My leg makes it hard.”
His eyes widen. “I’m sorry. Again.” He sighs. “I’m really bad at this, but I swear it’s because I’m not used to this two-thousand era world.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Let’s buy it all.” He shrugs. “You can wear the things you want, and you can give whatever doesn’t fit to poor people. Surely there are still lots of people who can’t go shopping freely?”
Me. I’m one of those people he’s talking about. “I can’t expect Kris to—”
“I’m about to be rich. I’ll pay them back, and then you don’t have to feel bad.”
Ohmyword. “Grigoriy, look—”
He grabs my hand, not hard, not enough to dislodge it from its grip on my crutch handle, but firmly. “Say it again.”
“Look?”
He shakes his head. “My name.”
“Okay, this is weird,” I say. “I don’t know you.”
“Your need woke me up,” he says. “I’m absolutely positive.”
“That makes no sense,” I say. “I’ve been in trouble lots of times.”
“But you haven’t been about to die lots of times,” he says. “I think that’s what I felt. It was nothing but darkness and misery for me. Aleks says he doesn’t recall much, but I remember pain. A lot of pain. Loneliness. Darkness. I’ve been miserable for a very long time, and then light exploded into my world. I was underground, which might have been a breeze for Aleks to deal with, but it was harrowing for me. I painstakingly dug my way out, one hoof scrape at a time, flailing, miserable, and then I felt something, pulling me toward you.”
My heart’s hammering again. Is any of this possible? Could he have felt me?
“I was finally free, and then I felt it—this incontrovertible pull. I ran toward it, and then I found you. Curled up, injured, and miserable.”
I can’t breathe.
He draws in a ragged breath. “You were brighter than the light in that dark place. You were what I’d been waiting on—an end to the pain. So I know you don’t want my help, but just take it anyway. I owe you.”
I let him lead me through the store after that, slinging mediums over his arm from every rack and stand. He chooses several purses, too. “It seems like you have lots of things to carry around these days. Phones, stuff for your lips and hair. I assume that, especially with the crutches, you need something to put them in.”
He’s pretty perceptive. “Yes, thanks.”
“And it’s better if they match what you’re wearing, so maybe get a brown one and a black one for when you don’t want to move stuff around, and then a few colors when you want to match.”
I wonder how well I would adjust to a new time. Probably not nearly as well as he is. I’m sure having Aleks around helps, but he’s clearly also very bright.
After we walk out, Kris and Grigoriy and Aleks offer to take me to any other store I want, but my leg’s throbbing. I shrug. “We got a lot.”
“Shoes, at least,” Kris says. “You’ll want some decent shoes.”
I begrudgingly nod. “But one pair is fine. You bought me way too much back there.”
“I bought it,” Grigoriy says.
Aleks laughs. “I think my credit card will beg to differ.”
“I’ll pay you back,” he says. “I’m the one who insisted on buying all of that.”
Aleks laughs. “It’s fine. I told you.”
Grigoriy shakes his head, apparently as stubborn as I am. “I’ll reimburse you.”
“Let’s go to Rossita,” Kris says. “Their window display had the most gorgeous boots.”
“Or that A.S. 98 place was pretty nice,” Aleks says.
Kris shrugs. “They’re practically next door.”
It’s a car ride away, but when we get out, Aleks has parked right by an equine outfitter. I can’t help the pang in my heart at seeing it. I’m surrounded by horse stuff day in and day out, but I never bother paying for expensive riding pants or boots. What’s the point? I can’t wear any of it for its intended purpose.
Something about seeing it all on display still pains me.
Even now, a decade later, I can smell the sharp new leather smell of the nicest boots. I can feel the tacky, grippy sensation of running my hands over the full seat pants. I can remember the way the best gloves grip your fingers, making them better able to hold the reins, even when they get sweaty inside.
I heave a small sigh.
“Let’s step in here for a moment,” Kris says.
I shake my head. “Can you go later?”
“I can,” Kris says. “But you should come now.”
“You know I can’t,” I say.
“But you can, now,” she insists. “Weren’t you on a horse this morning?”
I roll my eyes. “Only because I had no choice.”
“You can’t ride because a horse might spook or buck and you might fall, right?” Kris has a twinkle in her eyes.
“Right, and it’s uncomfortable for me to even grip with my leg.”
“But you’re having a surgery soon, and on top of that, you have a horse that won’t spook or buck, now. You have a horse you can trust to keep you safe.”
What is she talking about?
“Me.” Grigoriy smiles and starts toward the store.
“Wait.” But I can’t catch him. He’s striding in way too fast, and he knows my size, and I wouldn’t put it past him to just buy whatever he thinks looks nice, without even waiting for my permission.
I follow Kris inside, and the smell of boot leather and tack hits me like a fan to the face. I pause for a moment and breathe it in.
“—your most expensive pair of women’s boots?” Grigoriy’s asking the saleswoman. “And your nicest pants, jacket, whatever she will need. A few of each.”
“Stop.” It’s embarrassing having him ask for me, like having my mom cut my sandwich.
“I would stop,” he says, “if you would step in and order things for yourself, but the only way you’ll get this is if I make you.” He grins and switches to Latvian. “Have I told you how much I loved the feel of you riding me?” His grin is pure evil. “I’ll buy whatever I need to feel that again.”
“You knew that would sound dirty,” I snap. “That’s why you switched to Latvian.”
Aleks looks supremely annoyed. “But I can still understand you.” He shudders. “Knock it off, man. You sound. . .pervy.”
He didn’t sound pervy, not to me, but I’m not about to admit it. “Look—”
But the sales lady has returned, her arms laden with clothing stacked on two boot boxes.
“We’ll take all of that, plus your nicest saddle,” Grigoriy says.
“A Voltaire,” Kris says. “Sized for a wide warmblood, with pro flaps.”
“We’d need to see the horse,” the woman says. “And our Voltaire rep won’t be here for three more days, and even then it takes two months to—”
“You have some on consignment?” Kris asks.
The woman nods.
“Great. I’ll pick one.” She brushes past her toward the tack area, and none of them seem to be listening to me at all.
“But—”
“You went through something terrifying,” Aleks says in a very low, very soft voice.
“I did,” I say.
“We both feel awful, and we both feel a little at fault.”
“It wasn’t—”
Aleks waves. “The point is that, even if you hate this, it makes Kris feel a bit better. It’s making Grigoriy feel better. Their trauma may not be as direct as yours was, but if it’s not hurting you to watch them buy you things, let it go.”
I stare at him.
“I have literal buckets of gems and precious stones. We have way, way more money than we will ever need. Don’t stress about the cost. Whether Grigoriy repays me or not, it’s irrelevant. It’s making my betrothed happier, so I’d greatly prefer if you let us buy out all the boots in this store.”
I close my open mouth with a click and stop arguing. It hadn’t occurred to me that Kris and Grigoriy might feel unsafe or upset that I was attacked, or that I’m injured, and now that I see what’s motivating them, and Aleks has assured me the money isn’t an issue (which I struggle to even understand), I’m better able to let it go.
I cringe my way through another huge stack of clothing, which I’m worried won’t fit in the back of the Range Rover, and then I grit my teeth and endure while we hobble into the store next door and buy a pair of sneakers, a few pairs of boots, and a few more things for Kris and Grigoriy, but then I’m done.
My good leg is trembling.
My bad leg is screaming.
I’ll collapse if I can’t sit down soon.
“I’d be happy to carry you,” Grigoriy says. His arms are already heavy laden with bags.
“I’m fine,” I say.
“Liar,” Kris says.
“Here,” Aleks says, moving toward me. “I can—”
But Grigoriy practically knocks him over, racing toward me.
I shove one hand against his chest—which is distractingly hard and well-muscled—and shake my head. “No. Respect my words and let me walk.”
A muscle works in his jaw, but he listens, walking slowly at my side as we make our way to the Range Rover. Once we get the door open, Grigoriy insists on tossing my crutches in the back and helping me in again. Then he slides into the middle of the bench, right next to me, and buckles.
“What are you doing?” I ask, eyeing his proximity warily.
“There are three seats,” he says.
“I know.”
“I’d rather sit in the one that’s closer to you.” He shrugs. “Is that a problem?”
Kris is giggling in the front seat.
“I suppose not,” I say.
And I hate that I mean it.
8
Home for me has always been where Kris is. I mean, it would have been nice if I grew up in the same place my entire life, like her. Or if I had lots of memories of the same house, like holidays in certain rooms with the same decorations.
But more than a location, home’s a feeling.
It’s being safe. It’s being cared for. It’s knowing no one wants to hurt you—anything bad that happens is inadvertent or fate.
The only person, since her mother died, who has loved me no matter what. . .is Kristiana. My sister always has her own fights to manage. My mom has always prioritized Mārtinš over everything else. No guy has ever cared much about me, except as something to control.
But Kris has always had my back, so with her, I’m home.
Which is why, when she grabs her purse and stands up, my anxiety rises. “I just put all my new clothes in that room.” I swallow and force myself, painfully, to my feet.
“Oh, no, that’s fine. Aleks and I will head back to his place, which is only half an hour’s drive, and we’ll be back over tomorrow morning to take you to the doctor.”
“Whoa,” I say. “You’re leaving without me?”
“My car’s a two-seater,” Aleks says.
“You could borrow the Range Rover for a day, right?” I hate how panicked I sound.
“Are you afraid of being alone with me?” Grigoriy stands. “Because you slept practically on top of me last night.”
I swallow. “You were a horse.”
“There are a dozen staff members here,” Kris says. “Your stuff’s here. We thought it would be easier if—”
“I’d rather go with you.”
Kris frowns. “Aleks knows Grigoriy. They’ve been friends for years. I’m sure you’ll be safe here.”
I’m acting like a lunatic. My stuff’s all in the drawers in an empty room. Kris and Aleks will be back in the morning. I know these things are true, but for some reason, I’m panicking anyway.
Grigoriy frowns. “You could change me back into a horse, if that will make you feel better.”
“I’d prefer he’s here as a man,” Aleks says. “Remember what I told you?” He lifts his eyebrows meaningfully.
“What?” I glance between them. “What did you tell him?”
Kris sighs. “They have another friend who’s still missing, and there are two more people like them who we think cursed them to begin with. They came after us once, right after the Grand National.”
Came after them?
“I’m sure they’ll be watching this place,” Aleks says. “Just as they watch my place.”
“How do you know?” Now I’m really nervous. What exactly is going on? Who are these people and why are they watching them?
“I’ve laid a few traps to see what might happen, and so far they haven’t acted.” Aleks sighs. “But when I was away from home, away from my wards, away from my support, that’s when they moved in.”
“But what does that have to do with me?” I ask. “Isn’t that even more reason for me to come with you?”
“Aleks warded this place too,” Kris says. “Before we ever stayed here. They won’t be able to come inside.”
All this magic stuff is bizarre, and I can’t really trust it.
“Besides,” Aleks says. “Grigoriy was always the scariest of all of us at combat. They won’t come at him directly.”
Grigoriy steps closer to me.
For some reason, it feels ominous. “What does that mean?”
“They’re more likely to go after you,” Kris says flatly.
“Why me?” I look around, searching all their faces for any answers. “I have nothing to do with him.”
Aleks tilts his head. “You can shift him from man to horse.”
“I mean, yes, I can. But who knows who else might be able to do it, too?”
“Only Kris could shift me,” Aleks says.
“How many other people tried?” I ask.
Kris’s shoulders droop. “None.”
“So you don’t know that she’s the only one. Maybe lots of people could.”
“I could only use my powers when I was touching her,” Aleks says.
“Did you try with other people? Other women? Children? Anyone?”
Aleks clears his throat.
“Scientists you are not.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to stay here. I don’t have anything to do with Grigoriy, and the last thing I need is a target on my back—”
Grigoriy touches my arm, and a sudden wind whips around the room. It lifts every single thing up off the ground. Picture frames. Chairs. Coffee table. Lamp. The curtains flap wildly. And then it all stops, and everything returns to its normal place, not a single thing a hair different than before. “I can keep you safe, but only if you’re near me.”
“Try it with her.” I glare at Kris.
Aleks scowls.
Kris shifts awkwardly, but she nods.
Grigoriy crosses the room slowly, not looking too pleased, but he puts his hand on her forearm.
Aleks looks like he might hit him.
But nothing happens.
No one hits anyone. No wind whips around the room. Nothing.
“How do I know you’re really trying?” I ask.
Grigoriy throws his hands in the air. “You’re being impossible.”
“Try with him.” I toss my head at Aleks.
“Oh, please,” Aleks says.
“Just do it.”
Grigoriy stomps his way over to Aleks and yanks his arm toward him, holding both their arms up. “Satisfied?”
“Now try it.” I practically bite out every word. “And I want to see you really focusing.”
Both men sigh.
But nothing happens.
“Call one of the staff,” I say.
“When are you going to be satisfied that we have some kind of connection?” Grigoriy releases Aleks and walks toward me. He’s not stomping. He’s not striding. He’s not even stalking.
He’s sauntering.
I hate how it makes my heart rate pick up. How it makes my breath catch. And how I both want him to keep walking and want him to stop at the same time.
“Stop,” I say, my cautious side winning.
“You stop.” He does listen, but he’s still staring right at me. The two feet between us doesn’t feel like much of a buffer. “Until I can recover my powers, you’re going to have to lend a hand for a bit.” He smiles. “Consider it payment for the surgery and the clothes.”
“See?” I fume. “I knew you’d bring that up again.”
“Only because you’re being so stubborn,” he says. “You keep insisting there’s nothing between us. You keep saying you want to go with her.” He jabs his finger toward the door without even looking.
“You’re a stranger to me,” I say.
“And how will running away from me change that?” he asks.
“I’m so very, deeply sorry,” I say.
“Huh?”
“Kris said that’s what she said to get Aleks his powers back.”
He shakes his head. “She said she forgave him and that’s when they came back.”
“How’s this?” I sigh. “I forgive you, Grigoriy, for being pushy. I forgive you for not healing my leg. I forgive you for being overbearing. I forgive you for anything and everything for all time.”
“For all time?” He’s smiling and he takes a step closer. “I like that. Say it again.”
“Try your powers.” I fold my arms over my chest, leaning against the edge of the sofa for support. “See if they’re back.”
He frowns. “They aren’t. Nothing changed.”
