Some of Avalon’s cool demeanor faded. “I’m sorry to hear that, Porter. I was hoping we could come to an agreement but you will leave me with no choice but to insist Flavian pays his debt to me by his own honor. You cannot offer assistance of any kind if you wish for him to see the light of another day. And considering you may be emptying your pockets of another fortune to Miss Wilson very soon; you may well find yourself in dire straits after so long on top.” He returned to his chair. “I will bid you good evening if you need nothing further since I don’t take kindly to being duped and my consideration thoroughly ignored.”
Drake wanted to say more, but he was content to let Avalon think he retained the upper hand. It was best he kept silent. His actions would soon speak for themselves.
He walked out of the office and spied Reynolds standing there. With his light hair plastered back from his forehead, he offered Drake a broad grin.
Drake ignored him and continued toward the back of the pub where he intended to quit the establishment and head back to his townhouse. He was eager to see Fleur again. He wasn’t quite sure what he might say to her that would lead her believe that all would be well when he wasn’t entirely certain his plans would be enacted as they were meant to be. He needed to consult with Amos to see where they stood.
He had just opened the door when he heard the scuffle of a boot behind him.
Drake ducked as he spun around, narrowly missing the baton that Reynolds held in his hand. Instantly, his fighting instincts came to the forefront and Drake replied with an uppercut to the man’s jaw as they stumbled out the door into the mews. He had never particularly cared for Avalon’s right hand, so he was eager to teach the scoundrel a lesson. He might be calling the kettle black by referring him to the title he’d always worn with pride but even Drake had his limits with what he would tolerate.
Reynolds’ head snapped back from the force of the blow but he shook it off and came rushing at Drake. He was prepared for the head that came crashing toward his abdomen. Drake answered as he brought his elbows down on Reynolds’ back. They instantly fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs, obscenities, and bloody knuckles.
As they each scrambled to their feet and began to circle one another, the mental games began.
“I’m not surprised that Avalon sent you to deal with me,” Drake snarled. “But he sent the wrong man if he thought you could defeat me.”
“Oh, I don’t intend to defeat you,” Reynolds snapped in return, as he spat out blood onto the ground from a split lower lip. His left eye was already starting to turn purple from their brief scuffle. “I intend todestroyyou and take pleasure in doing so.” He withdrew a jagged knife from the back of his trousers and held it out before him. Drake was unarmed but there was no rule book for gentlemanly warfare in the underground. It was every man for himself.
Drake laughed richly as he easily dodged the first swipe of the knife. “You can try. Many men have and all of them have failed.”
Another swipe was easily evaded. The third, Drake was anticipating.
As Reynolds lifted his arm in an arc and began to bring it down, Drake kicked upward and sent the weapon sailing through the air.
The other man cursed vividly and with a howl of anger, came at Drake again.
This time, Drake fell to the ground, but it had nothing to do with Reynolds.
He sensed the danger behind him a moment before the glass bottle crashed over his skull. Reynolds came to an abrupt halt as Drake’s vision wavered. He could feel his knees growing weak but he told himself not to falter.
It was no use. The darkness closed in around the edges of his vision. His last image was that of Fleur and how he’d failed to tell her how much she had changed him and how much he wanted to keep her in his life forever before he lost consciousness.
CHAPTER19
Something was wrong.
Fleur didn’t know how she could sense it but when Drake hadn’t arrived home by two in the morning, she decided she needed to gather some reinforcements.
Most of the servants returned to their respective lodgings for the evening since Drake wasn’t a conventional master. However, Amos was the exception since Drake wanted someone to watch over her in his absence in case there was trouble.
Still dressed, Fleur headed down to the study to see if she might find Amos there. Thankfully, he was kicked back in Drake’s chair. He had his feet propped up and it appeared as though he was sleeping but the moment her feet crossed the threshold, he turned to her. She didn’t have to say anything before he was on his feet.
“Thank God. I thought I was the only one who didn’t have a good feeling about this night.”
Her stomach clenched. “Do you think something has happened too?”
“Aye. It’s not like Drake to spend any more time with Avalon than necessary.”
He started to move toward the door. She was directly on his heels. “What are we going to do?”
“I’m going to check on things while you stay here?—”
“Absolutely not!” Fleur rushed in front of him and blocked his way, although the massive man could have easily pushed her aside. She shoved a finger in his chest. “I tried it Drake’s way and this is what happened. I will not stand by idle again. I know how to wield a sword if needed and I still have the shroud to conceal my identity. I’mgoing.”
He must have decided it was easier to give in than to deal with a hysterical woman, so he said curtly, “Get dressed and meet me back here in five minutes.”
“Four,” she countered as she rushed up the stairs.
