Thorns of Fate

by Hayley Todd

  “Let's go,” I growled, stomping my way down the remaining stairs and out the front of the building. I passed Anton on the way who climbed shakily from his barstool after leaping in the air at my sudden passing. The front of the club was met by a nearly empty block. There were nearly no cars lining the street for once. A glance to the side revealed my McLaren, exactly where I had parked it months ago. It had been a special set of parking spaces specifically for my apparent and therefore had no tickets.

  I fished my key from my pocket, unlocked the doors and climbed in. Carson lifted the passenger seat, waiting for Anton to slide into the back. As he did, the cabin filled with the vile stench of sweat and booze. Carson sat next to me, his hand grabbing mine on the shifter. I looked at him and he drew back.

  I was furious. I couldn't remember a time when I had been so angry. I wasn't angry at Carson really. I was alarmed and I did feel safe, but between my mixed thoughts at him and my total rage at Anton, I struggled not to see red.

  I pulled out so hard that the tires squealed and Anton--who had stubbornly chosen not to put on a seatbelt--was thrown across the back seat, cracking his head on the window. I almost smiled at his cries of outrage. He deserved far worse.

  Carson guided me to the meeting spot which turned out to be Damien’s mansion. If Casa Santina was lavish and ostentatious, Damien’s home made it look like a child’s dollhouse. The house was enormous. It sported a wraparound drive that stretched around a beautiful golden fountain.

  Carson leapt out of the car, leaving the door open for Anton and darting to my side. He opened my door and reached in, holding his hand out to assist me. I clamped down on my more incensed inclinations and wrapped my fingers in his. He could sense my fury. He had remained all but silent on the entire drive over, which had taken nearly thirty minutes, simply uttering directions when necessary. He led me up the steps and to the front door, guiding me gently by my hand and didn't waste time waiting for Anton to join us. He opened the door for me, guiding me in to what was nearly a literal lion’s den.

  Chapter Ten

  The foyer in Damien’s mansion was expansive and lavishly decorated. There was a sense of old-world charm there. Down its center was a grand staircase, swooping up to a second floor where a railing lined the edge of a walkway that branched off in either direction. At its base, a door was placed on either side, leading farther into the house.

  Carson pulled me up the stairs and down the hall to the left. Anton hadn’t followed us. The corridor was lined with doors. After several steps forward, Carson stopped and turned to the right. He lifted his fist and rapped on the door.

  “Come in,” called Damien’s voice. It was eerie to immediately recognize my father’s voice after having it be absentee for my entire life. Carson twisted the knob and the door swung open.

  I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath onto my eyes fell on him. Even I could admit that my father was striking. He didn’t look old enough to be my dad. He looked like he may have been in his late forties. He had auburn hair, much like myself, but with deep, forest green eyes. He had a goatee that was a shade darker than his hair and his lips were pulled back in a sneer as he read over something.

  Carson and I stood there. He had his arms behind his back and stood stiffly. My father didn’t look up as he commanded, “Sit.”

  The room we’d stepped into looked like an office except as large and extravagant as a study. Damien had a desk centered in the middle of the room and two large chairs sat between us. We immediately obliged plopping into the seats.

  Damien finally placed his folder on the desk and looked up at me. “Hello, my daughter. You’re looking well.” Then he turned his gaze to Carson who if I didn’t know better would’ve have said looked terrified. “Carson,” he greeted.

  “My king,” Carson replied with a bow of his head.

  Damien gave him a knowing look.

  “Sir,” Carson corrected with a smile.

  Damien stood, gesturing for Carson to come to him. Carson did as bid, clasping my father in a hug.

  “It has been too long, Carson,” Damien said.

  Carson nodded but before he could speak I interjected, “Too long? Didn’t you both just spend months together at my bedside?”

  Damien looked back to me, its smile and jovial attitude gone. “We did. But Carson was not himself during that time.” He finished the phrase, returning a different, sympathetic smile to his lips.

  Carson’s eyes went wide.

  “What do you mean?” I asked my father.

  Damien looked to Carson for a moment, sighed and didn’t respond.

  I looked between them. My father looking guilty and Carson looking afraid. I didn’t appreciate being left in the dark. I could feel heat swelling inside of me as my anger increased.

  I stood up so fast I knocked my chair onto its back. “Look, I’m in enough of a chaotic whirlwind for the two people I’m supposed to trust to start keeping secrets from me.” I said it all in one incensed gasp of air.

  My father looked shocked and Carson sported a grimace. For a long moment my words hung in the air. Then my father seemed to compose himself first.

  “Well, you truly are my daughter,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair. “My sweet child,” he cooed, “some things are better to be learned than told.”

  I could sense Carson’s relief.

  I righted my chair and walked out of the room.

  Once I felt like I could see clearly past the haze of red that had crept into my vision, I began to roam the halls. I thought I had a decent understanding of this houses size from its exterior but I was proven unabashedly wrong. I continued down the dizzying corridor and found another at its end.

  I resumed walking until my fury began to fade. I had been fighting for independence my entire life. I loved my Grandmother and I loved my cousins but nothing had ever been mine. Even as children, our toys belonged to us all. They were Grandmother’s toys that we lucked into playing with. Everything had been handed to me, pre-approved, in one way or another. My life had been mapped out for me before I’d ever had a conscious thought. And then this man who had finally made me feel as though there were someone who I could completely trust without editing myself had openly betrayed my confidence. And it was made even better by my estranged father’s complicity.

  I almost felt hopeless, for one terrible instant I felt a deep, bottomless pit of emotion swell within me. It knocked the air from me and knocked me to my knees. I expelled a breath, hard, struggling to inhale around the hollow cavern that had formed inside.

  “Hey, are you okay?” A familiar voice broke through the haze of agony as a cool hand clasped around my upper arm and helped me to my feet.

  I gasped for air again, the pain pulsing.

  “Hey, hey,” he said again. “Look at me, breathe, breathe.”

  For a moment, I felt as though I would be sick. Then I heard the words “I’m going to regret this” and a sharp sting scorched my cheek. The black edges of my vision evaporated and my eyes locked onto Anton's. He was shaking out his hand and looking into my eyes. He almost looked concerned.

  Tears pricked my eyes.

  “Hey, hey, there. It’s okay. Just keep breathing.”

  I obeyed, sucking in a careful breath. I actually felt better. The hole inside of me seemed to shrink to a manageable size.

  Anton stood straighter and looked around, as though he were trying to find someone. “Huh, no bodyguard.” He tapped my chin and when I looked up at him he continued, “And what are you doing all the way out here?” He asked.

  “I-I was wandering,” I replied, battling to get the words out.

  He hummed softly. “I thought you would be speaking with your father,” he said.

  My vision darkened, turning away from him.

  “Woah, woah!” He exclaimed, grabbing my shoulder. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

  I began walking again and he followed closely on my heel. I had no idea where I was going.


  “Okay, definitely not talking about it,” he muttered.

  I didn’t acknowledge him.

  “So,” he said slowly. “How are you adjusting to vamp life?” He actually sounded genuinely interested. He sped to catch up and followed along beside me.

  “It’s fine,” I spat, increasing my speed.

  He kept pace with me easily.

  “You know, we don’t have to hate each other,” he said. He gazed sideways at me.

  “Sure,” I replied.

  “Really,” He began, “we can be friends. It’s better that way. Things will be easier.”

  I stopped and whirled on him. “I don’t want to marry you,” I hissed.

  He rolled his eyes. “I know you don’t want to right now but eventually, you’ll realize it’s the best thing for our people.” He paused for a long moment.

  I continued walking.

  He continued following.

  “I’m guessing lover boy didn’t warn you about what happened back there, did he?”

  I glanced up at him from the corner of my eye. His golden amber eyes were looking me over.

  “I didn’t think so,” he continued as though I had actually responded to him. “Did he tell you that vampires experience emotions to a higher degree than humans? That there? That was emotion causing you physical pain.”

  I shuddered. I could sense a truth to his words. I had noticed that I had been more emotionally unstable. Why hadn’t Carson told me that?

  “And I’m willing to bet that he didn’t tell you that he’s imprinted on you?”

  I froze, my eyes whipping up to his face. “What do you mean, he imprinted?” I asked. I didn’t even recognize my own voice. It sounded like a hiss.

  Anton laughed. I had to fight not to slap him. “He didn’t explain anything to you, did he?”

  I didn’t care if he was right or not. He wouldn’t get a rise out of me. I tried to walk away from him again but he was instantly by my side.

  He sighed. “Alright, I guess it’s being left to me. Vampires experience all emotions to an unreal degree. We can develop emotional attachments faster than humans. Some lucky few of us out there can find our soul mates.”

  I gave him a skeptical glance.

  “Yeah, I know. If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t believe it. But it’s real. There are some relationships out there that are literally perfect. Some of us have found soul mates—literal soul mates—and if fed upon, form a bond that runs into our very blood. Some individuals feel the bond in different ways. The most common being telepathic crossings.”

  I gave him a raised eyebrow.

  “Basically, you can occasionally hear the others thoughts. Usually it’s very limited. Some more intense symptoms include being able to always know where the other one is and even feeling what the other feels. It’s a bond that many vampires envy.”

  There was a long silence. I glanced around. This hallway looked exactly like the others. I was definitely lost at this point.

  “That is an imprint. He has one, on you.”

  Was that the secret? That he had imprinted on me? Was that really so bad?

  Before I could finish puzzling the thought, I realized that the voice I had heard in my head on several occasions really hadn’t been mine. Oh my God. I had imprinted him. Oh, Anton had it backwards.

  Maybe it would scare him off. “Actually I think I imprinted on him.”

  He was silent for so long that I wasn’t sure that he was still with me. But a glance showed me he was still there, his eyes wide.

  “Holy hell,” he gasped.

  “What?” I queried.

  “I know you don't know how rare a mutual imprint is but...you’re lucky,” he breathed. He almost seemed not to understand the backwards logic there. I was lucky. I was lucky to supposedly have found and imprinted on my soul mate. But was doomed to marry someone else.

  I shook my head. “No, he didn’t imprint on me. I mean that I imprinted on him instead.”

  He laughed, definitely at me. “I’m an empath. I can sense emotions. That’s actually how I found you. Imprints are insane levels of emotions. I can sense them. He definitely imprinted on you. I can’t sense yours though…”

  He snatched his hand out, his fingertips pressing to my skin. He hummed. I yanked my arm back. “Ah, there it is,” he sighed. Then he looked me up and down. “Curious.”

  He hesitated a moment, thoughtful before continuing. “It doesn’t matter that you’ve imprinted on him. You’re still my bride. It’s not optional. Like I said, it’s the best thing for our people.”

  “You’re not helping your cause,” I hissed.

  “Did he tell you why we’re getting married?”

  I shook my head.

  He nodded knowingly. “Figures. For centuries, our fathers have been fighting over the Magick Clan. It’s been bloody and awful and has decimated the Magick population. When I was born, my father gained the favor of the Council but when your mother was pregnant with you, they were more divided. In order to broker peace and try to save his people, your father made a bargain.

  “He left careful clauses to protect you but it was nearly certain that one so powerful as you would happen upon this world yourself. Our marriage would unite the two most powerful families of Magicks and our children would represent peace, prosperity, and unity.

  “Love isn’t a part of it. We could perhaps grow to love each other but love isn’t a requirement.”

  I was taken aback. I actually didn’t hate his reasoning but I still wanted to punch him.

  “I don’t want to marry you,” I said. “I want my relationship to be all about love. I only want children with someone I love. Don’t get me wrong, I want to do what I can for our people but I want what’s good for me too.”

  He stopped and turned to me, grabbing my hands. “You have six months of freedom. I want you to enjoy it but, think wisely.”

  I was stunned into silence. I didn’t know if I should feel appreciative that he was trying to understand or fury at his deranged assumption that he owned me.

  “Oh, what were you so upset about?” He asked, entirely changing the subject.

  “I-I, um,” I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “Carson and Damien are keeping something from me. Something about Carson. I’ve dealt with decisions being made for me for my entire life. I don’t like someone making the decision of if I can handle it for me. Especially when I’m supposed to trust them.”

  Anton nodded like that made sense. “Hiding things has no bearing in a relationship. Someone you’re supposed to love and be in love with shouldn’t need to.”

  My eyes shot to him. “Excuse me?” I asked, confused.

  Anton’s eyes went wide. “Ah, that must be the secret then.”

  “What? What is?!”

  “That he loves you. He has for years. But he’s always let you live your life. He didn’t want you to be exposed to this life and find yourself with a clock ticking down to your prearranged nuptials. He’s in love with you.” He shrugged. He acted so nonchalant as if what he was saying was nothing.

  I needed to be alone. I continued down the corridor. “Please, leave me alone,” I growled. And surprisingly enough he dropped back, letting me be.

  Carson loved me.

  I stomped down the hall, frustration filling me like a physical agony.

  Carson loved me. It made sense. Why else would the man risk his life on multiple occasions to protect and defend me? And more even than just that! He didn’t just love me. He had imprinted on me. Wasn’t that just as bad as was Anton was doing? Claiming me? Could I even say anything? Wasn’t I doing the same?

  As Anton had spoken the words, I knew it was true. I’ve imprinted on Carson. The word “soul mates” reverberated through my mind.

  That had been how it had seemed. If I had ever thought soul mates were really I would’ve immediately realized why I was so drawn to him.

  A small echo of the blood-letting ecstasy filled my belly and I shivered. The feeli
ng made my heartbeat speed up.

  I continued down the hall, stewing over my own thoughts and emotions, no true destination in mind, just needing to be away from people to think.

  I was overwhelmed with my thoughts, completely all-encompassing as they were. So, I was very surprised when I ran face first into what felt like a brick wall.

  I huffed an exhalation of breath and fell backwards, landing on my butt. I looked up a well-dressed and tall figure to find a man, looking to be in his mid to late forties, towering over me.

  “You should watch where you’re going,” he growled, holding a hand out to me.

  I reluctantly took it, staring up at him. When his hands clasped mine a feeling over power shivered through me.

  He was taller than me. Probably around 6’2” and had dark, nearly black hair swept back in his head. He sported an equally dark goatee that was peppered with grey around his mouth and had more grey above his ears in his hair. It didn’t make him look old as much as astute and commanding.

  He looked me over appraisingly with golden eyes, pulling me to my feet.

  He was dressed as though he’d stepped out of an entrepreneur magazine. He wore a dark blue button up dress shirt that looked as costly as the down payment on an apartment and a pair of black slacks that were perfectly pleated down his legs. Even his shoes looked ostentatiously expensive, black and leather.

  “And who do we have here?” he asked once I had regained my feet.

  I gave him a hard look. He seemed to be the first person not to know who I was as soon as he met me. “My name is Kyra,” I replied simply, not wanting to tie myself to my father at this moment.

  His amber eyes went wide as he stared down at me then a sly smile crept across his face. It seemed predatory, not friendly. “Ah,” he sighed. “Kyra Lucius then. Our perfect princess.”

  I didn’t like the way he was watching me. As though I were a prized heifer whose price he was still deciding on. “I am Kyra, the confused human turned Magick,” I replied, turning from him to continue my mindless wandering.