When Ash Falls (London Fairy Tales #4)(5)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“How?” Sofia asked, exasperated and in need of an escape, even if it meant jumping head first out the window.

“If you had listened the first time, we would have been in the next town and happily on our way into London. Because of you and your stubbornness, we had to stay.”

“So it’s my fault you’re an idiot? Is that what you’re saying?” She tilted her head and gave him a patronizing smile. “After all, you were the fool who barged in and attacked my Royal Guard in hopes of sweeping me away to London. It seems to me, you think me the fool, when truly, the fault lies with you and your inability to practice patience.”

Ash grinned. “That was a lovely scolding. Well delivered. To the point, still courteous. If I did not know you to be royalty, that would have sealed your fate. You must have a care how you speak to others when you are in London. It would not do for your true identity to be realized.”

Sofia held her head high, not willing to admit he was most likely right. “Will that be all?” she said through clenched teeth the second time.

“No…” Ash peeled the shirt from his body. “…no, it will not be all.”

She’d been afraid of that.

“Look at me,” he commanded, voice husky.

Sofia slowly turned her head toward him and managed to hold in her gasp when her eyes fell upon his naked chest. His body was covered in odd markings and scars. His muscles flexed underneath the glow of the candlelight.

Slowly, he walked toward her, his wide smile mocking and wicked. “Just one more thing.”

As if her legs were suddenly filled with lead, Sofia held her ground and waited. Was he going to grab her? Slap her? Her heart thundered in her chest. Would he force himself on her?

When his hand reached out to touch her chin, she flinched. The last time a man had laid a hand on her, it had been the assassin. He had wanted to touch Sofia, the pure princess, before her blood ran cold. At least that was what he had said.

She’d stabbed him in the chest and not looked back as she’d run through the woods to the safety of the cottage where her Royal Guard had stood in wait.

“Help. I need your help.”

“With… what?” Her words came out slow, full of dread as she looked at his flushed face.

“An injury, I cannot—” Ash stopped talking and shifted his feet as he cursed and looked at the ground. “Because of an injury I cannot reach— Never mind. Just leave me. Send one of your royal protectors. Send Pierce, for all I care. I just need—“

“I am able to help.” Sofia swallowed her fear and took a step forward. “Just tell me what I need to do, and I will help.”

Ash exhaled a curse. “I cannot get off my shirt without assistance. My right arm will not rise above eye-level, and it causes great pain to undress myself.”

Sofia looked at his right arm. “It appears to be fine.”

“Forget it.” He pushed her toward the door.

“But—”

“Leave.” His tone was deadly as he pulled open the door and shuffled her out. “Send in Pierce. Won’t be the first time he’s undressed me.”

“But—”

“Good evening, Princess.” With that, he slammed the door in her face. Cursing resounded from the inside of the room.

Sofia clenched her hands, allowing her nails to bite into her skin as she stared at the closed door. What the devil had just happened?

“You make him angry, love?” Pierce held a candle out in front of him as he made his way down the narrow hallway.

“He’s…” She pointed at the door. “…rude and impossible, and apparently needs help undressing!”

“Ah,” Pierce leaned against the wall. “And you were unable to aid him in his request?”

“I was about to, but then…”

“Do go on.” Pierce smirked. “Then what, love? Did he try something with you? Better yet, did you try your feminine wiles on him?”

“No.” Sofia glared. “I told him his arm looked fine, and then he yelled and slammed the door, all before I could get another word in.”

The smile fell from Pierce’s face as he eyed her coldly. “Have a good night, Your Highness.”

“But—”

Suddenly Pierce was directly in front of her, the candlelight glowing against his angular face. “I said… goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she responded quickly then nearly tripped on her skirts as she made her way down the hall to her bedroom.

After turning the corner, she stopped and listened.

Pierce knocked twice.

There was talking, and then a low voice said, “How bad?” just before the door was slammed again.

Whatever the situation, they could not harbor secrets against her, not when her life was in danger with every breath she took.

She would discover his secret. She would decide if he would be more hindrance than help, and, if that were true, then she would simply travel with her guard, alone, without the beautiful man who called himself Ash.

CHAPTER FIVE

I try to cover up the scars, but all it does is make it worse. It seems the longer I try to hide, the more everything threatens to come to the surface. If anyone ever finds these journals after my death, I hope the one lesson they learn is that the things you think you want, you don’t. The things you don’t want always happen and are always what is best for you, even if you don’t know it until you breathe your last breath. Everything happens for a purpose. I just wish I wasn’t damned to hell, so God could tell me mine. —The Grimm Reaper

THE FIRST GULP OF whiskey burned its way down, and Ash winced. He stared at the glass in his hand, contemplating a second soothing swallow, but set the glass on the side table instead. Whiskey had never helped before; certainly it wouldn’t help now.

“You need a doctor.” Pierce cursed as he examined the scars on Ash’s back.

“I have you.” Ash shrugged off his friend’s serious tone. “Besides, what can a doctor do? I’m beyond helping.”

Pierce placed a compress against Ash’s right shoulder. “You have no way of knowing that.”

“I’m dying.”

“You are not dying.” Pierce sounded disgusted.

“The last doctor said I was dying. Didn’t you just say so yourself? Doctors have all the answers? Doctors help?”

Heaving a sigh of exasperation, Pierce went to the basin and washed the remnants of blood from his hands. “I’m ignoring your sarcasm just this once. The doctor you visited was more interested in coin than anything. I imagine, once we reach London, you may get a second opinion that has you living long enough to irritate everyone you come into contact with.”