Darke Beginnings

Chapter #7

Lucien awoke to Martin's beckoning under the guise of darkness. “Luc,” he summoned softly through the door while gently rapping on it with a single knuckle, “I need to speak with you.”

Bleary-eyed and still shaken by the day's proceedings, Lucien pulled himself reluctantly from the bed and shuffled his way in the dark to the door, pulling it open with minimal effort to face Martin's haggard visage. “What?” he asked sleepily.

“Follow me.” Martin lead him downstairs to the study, opening the door and revealing the weeping form of Juliet huddled on the settee. “This is your doing,” Martin grumbled, waving a dismissing hand toward the woman

Confused, Lucien went to her side and sat down, putting his arm around her. “Juliet?” he whispered, half stunned. “What are you doing here?”

Juliet lifter her head from its position on her arm and turned toward him. Her face was swollen, bruised and bloodied, her eyes red from tears, her beautiful skin abraded, and her throat had hand prints as though she had been nearly strangled to death. She was still clothed in the beautiful teal gown, which now was tattered and torn, drops of blood staining it. Her eyes were pleading with him, frightened. She motioned to her throat and a ragged breath escaped from her lips.

Marin stepped in. “We're not sure yet,” he explained. “She was pushed out of a dark sedan about half an hour ago. Shaking his head, his face drawn, he asked, “Luc, did you tell her you were staying here?”

“I only ever told anyone I was employed by you,” Lucien answered without hesitation. “Why?”

“Well, obviously, someone wanted to send us a message,” Martin nearly yelled in frustration. “You, Andre and I were the only ones seen with Juliet when Cam died so unceremoniously at the embassy. It could have been one of Cam's men, one of Korsikov's men. Who saw you with them?”

Lucien shook his head. “I'm sure everyone did. You were the one watching from above. Didn't you see anything suspicious?”

“No,” Martin answered darkly, “And that's what worries me.”

Kneeling down in front of the traumatized woman and took her hand. “Juliet,” he addressed, “Do you know who did this to you?”

Juliet nodded and motioned for him to grab her a writing utensil and some paper. Martin grabbed some from his desk and handed it over. In an elegant script, she painfully wrote out, “Benton Hines... not a friend... knows everything & wants to take you down.” She dropped the pen on the carpet and thrust the paper at Lucien who read it and handed it over to Martin.

Martin began pacing the length of the study, thinking and mumbling, “Benton Hines, why does that name sound familiar?” He tapped the paper with a single finger while he racked his brain for the answer until it dawned on him. “Benton Hines is the bloody asshole that was trying to launch a corporate takeover against Howard Ellis about five years ago. I'd heard he'd left the country and was making a fortune in America,” he thought aloud.

Andre entered the room at that moment, announcing, “No, his company went under. He fled the country under the cover of darkness and stories of tax fraud.” He sat down next to Juliet. “I think he is most probably the reason Cam did what he did.”

Juliet nodded, her eyes full of worry. Lucien caught himself staring, his eyes drifting back and forth from her bruised face to her slumped figure. “I think we should let her rest,” he said to Martin. “Can she stay here?”

“That would not be wise,” Martin answered, his concerned face belying the fear in his voice. “They know she is here. I think it best for all of us to retreat.” Once Martin had spoken, it was decided. Lucien went up to his room to pack the few things he had there. Andre had nothing to pack. Martin packed a small duffel bag with weapons, cash, things they might need “just in case.” It was a somber interruption to the peaceful evening they had imagined they would have after their work was done.