Vengeful Prince

by Mary E. Twomey

  Lilya Klein, General Klein’s deceased daughter.

  She knows Alex has questions, and it’s clear she won’t answer any of them. The only way we could get her to come with us after Salem hunted her down in the rain was to promise we wouldn’t talk about her family, her life back in Faveda, or anything else that might be personal.

  Yes, our engagement is cracking along smoothly.

  Alex’s lips are pursed, and I can tell he’s brimming with questions that would violate our agreement. I pull him aside and whisper, “If I’m marrying her, she’ll be around long enough for you to get to the bottom of your mystery woman’s secrets. Keep a lid on it for now.”

  We walk for what feels like purposefully too long, dodging the sound of people whenever we catch wind of conversation nearing. I’m not sure what time it is, except that it’s the middle of the night. I want to tell Alex that this is a rubbish idea, except I know it’s probably a brilliant one. I want to push Lilya towards Salem, who’s never shown an interest in anyone other than her. But Alex’s point about the drought is no small concern. So long as she keeps taking her Green Lightning so no vampire will be tempted to drink from her, she’ll be safer on my arm.

  I hope.

  I’m going to have a wife. I’m marrying a woman whose name I only just found out half an hour ago. Harris will be angry. Melinda will be livid. Great-grandfather? I shudder when I picture King Ronin’s composed face that isn’t entirely dissimilar to mine, except for the fact that he’s always pressed, shaved and perfect for the people. I’m not inheriting the throne, so I couldn’t care less if I say the right thing or look the part. King Ronin will loathe Lilya for taking a spot on our family tree. Perhaps that’ll convince Great-grandfather to hold onto his rule forever. Or worse, he might pass it down to my father. Harris cares little for the people; he only craves power and wealth. He likes shiny things, and the tragedy of it all is that our people stopped being shiny in his eyes too many decades ago.

  “You were dead,” Alex accuses her quietly.

  Let it go, mate.

  Her jaw ticks with agitation. “Lexi, I swear. I told you I wasn’t going to talk about any of it, and you’re pushing your luck. You want me to marry the vampire prince so we can piss off the world and everyone can see how stupid their prejudices are? Fine. But for your own sake, trust me that faking my death was the best move for me. Neutral Territory was the right decision.”

  “I don’t understand why—”

  Her voice drops so quiet, I can barely hear her. “You promised. Back at the apartment, I said the only way I’d agree to this was if we never talked about any of it.”

  “That’s it? You expect me to just roll over and accept that my best childhood friend has been alive this entire time, shoved in a corner of the world that makes me shudder? Why? Does your father know you’re alive?”

  Her tone turns steely as we round the corner onto a street with a handful of quaint houses. “General Klein dropped me in shifter territory when I was eight years old. I guess he was hoping I would get mauled by a bear or something. Problem solved.” She motions to her scarred cheek, and my stomach turns. “I made it to Neutral Territory, and Fiora took me in. So no, I’m positive the great fae general doesn’t know I’m here. I am sure, however, that he’s happier thinking I’m dead.” Her eyes flick to Alex’s. “If you’re thinking about confronting General Klein, don’t. That would only alert him to the fact that the shifters didn’t finish the job and kill me off when I was a little girl. He’ll come after me to make sure I’m shut up for good.”

  Alex stops, and we all pause. “Lily-girl, you’re killing me with this!” And he actually does look like her plight is causing him physical pain. “General Klein is my father’s number two. If we’ve got someone in our cabinet capable of trying to murder his own daughter, that’s a problem. I can’t look the other way simply because you tell me to.”

  Her chin raises, the rain streaking down her cheeks. She’s got a heart-shaped face that looks far too innocent, clashing terribly with the harsh experience in her blue eyes. Most fae are built to be pretty with that passive, wan look to them, but when she gets worked up, I’m fairly certain pure fire could shoot from her icy glare.

  She blinks away the rain as she scowls up at Alex. “How about you look the other way because you don’t want to see me dead a second time. I’m the dirty secret. Don’t you get that? When I marry Prince Destino and all eyes are on the scandal of it, General Klein will know it’s me. No one else will know it’s his dead daughter, but he will. He’ll recognize me, even though I’m scarred.” I’m fairly certain there’s pure venom boiling under her skin for all the anger that’s radiating off of her. “I hope he chokes to death on his own fear. I want it hanging over his head, the fact that I could reveal my parentage at any moment, and tell the world that my father is a monster.”

  Salem’s tail wraps around her leg in solidarity, and Alex clears the gap between them, cupping her face. Agony beams out from him, bathing her with compassion. “Then let’s go public now. Tell them who your father is, and let my father hang him for it.”

  Lilya presses her palms to his hands and closes her eyes, as if savoring being touched so gently. “It’s not that simple. There’s a reason he tried to have me killed discreetly. I’m… I…” She swallows hard, and for a second, I wonder if Alex is going to kiss her. “I’m not a good person, Lexi. I’m not even a Territorial anymore. If I tell his secret, it’ll be a moment of victory before he tells the world what a monster I am.”

  I’m confused. I mean, all of us are, except for Fiora, who stands on the outskirts of the whole scene with a pleasant smile while we all get rained on in the middle of the night.

  Alex draws her slowly into his arms, his gesture promising protection, though I’m not sure any of us can give her all she’ll need. He holds her, the perfect picture of a man who loves deeply, pressing her to his chest and kissing the top of her head. He’s inhaling the fragrance of pure Lily. I can say from experience that it’s one of the best scents I’ve ever breathed. “Lily,” Alex says quietly, “what crime could you possibly have committed that’s worse than trying to have your daughter quietly killed?”

  A pained, tearless sob breaks loose from her lips, burying itself in his cloak. “Please, Lexi! Please don’t make me talk about it. I promise I’ll be good. This plan of yours, insane as it is, makes sense. I’ll marry Prince Destino, only promise you’ll keep my bloodline a secret. If you ever loved me when we were children, please. Do me this one thing.”

  We all stand around like wankers, watching Alexavier hold Lilya while she teeters on the edge of breaking down. I can’t imagine how hard her life has been up until this point. And here we come, about to make it all the more difficult for her.

  I rub the nape of my neck. “Maybe this isn’t the best idea. If the stakes are this high—if your father telling your secrets is a possibility that could make everything worse—perhaps this needs rethinking.”

  At this, Salem transforms back into a man. He stands at her back and raises his hand as if he wants to touch her shoulder, but retracts it, unsure how to touch a woman, the oaf.

  Fiora’s voice pierces the moonlight as she holds onto my good arm. “Lilya, ye will marry Prince Destino. You’ll live in Drexdenberg with the vampires, protected by the palace guard. You’ll be hated and protested, but the world has been broken for too long. Too many people have been wandering in a darkness of their own making. It’s time.” When Lilya doesn’t do more than cling tighter to Alex’s shirt, Fiora presses harder. “The same urging tha brought me to ye when ye were a wee lass is pressing on my heart now. This is the way it must be.”

  Lilya gathers her bearings until she can stand independent of Alex, though by the look on his face, I can tell he doesn’t want to be parted from her, even by a few feet. She’s gazing at me now, but for the life of me, I can’t bring myself to give her any sympathetic or reassuring word. This is a big leap, and she’s trusting that we’ll catch
her when the world turns on her yet again.

  She jerks her head to the third house down the left side of the street, rolling her shoulders back, as if that’s all it takes to shake off one’s past. “The judge is this way. Hoods up, gentlemen. I hope you’re not opposed to bribery. It’s going to take a hefty gift to get anyone to perform this wedding.”

  She trots to the leading spot in our group, guiding us up to the house with silver bars on the windows. “Smashing. So this judge hates vampires,” I comment as the guys catch sight of the same thing and close in on me, hemming me in on both sides. That’s the thing about brothers. They have a low tolerance for people who have it out for you. “Thanks for the reinforcements, but you two need to stay outside and out of sight. The fewer people who see us all together, the better.”

  I can’t tell which of them loathes the idea of staying behind more, but they can’t argue with my logic, so they move off to the side of the house, no doubt finding a window they can watch through.

  We’re soaked to the skin, but our purpose is more powerful than discomfort. Lilya takes Fiora’s hand and guides her to the door, knocking three times. I count out fifteen seconds before she hollers. “Pohl! Open the door, Pohl. I know you’re in there.” She bangs again. “I could do this all night, you know. Either way, you’re not getting any sleep.”

  I can’t help my smirk when it dawns on me that I very much enjoy watching her in action.

  A hook-nosed man opens the door in a droopy one-piece long underwear suit. I can’t imagine myself wearing something like that in private, least of all to open the door. “Hannah, you’d better have a good reason for disturbing me at this hour.”

  Lilya dons a smile too beamy to be true. “I do. If you can believe it, I found the love of my life. We want you to marry us before the sun rises. Please, Pohl? He’s a romantic. His father and mother have this same anniversary date, so if we don’t get married in exactly five minutes, we’ll have to wait a whole extra year!”

  Pohl frowns at my apparent high-maintenance superstitions. “Obviously not. You’re fae.” Then he points to me, taking in my olive skin. “Tha’s a vampire.”

  “We’re in love,” she lies with her chin raised. “And we’re prepared to pay through the nose for your services.”

  The promise of money is the only thing that gives him pause, though not enough of it to actually say yes just yet. “Tha’s hardly practical. There’s no ceremony planned. Ye really expect me to marry the two of ye just like this? Where’s your white dress, Hannah? Fiora, ye can’t possibly approve of this last-minute union. Go on home. If this lad loves ye, he’ll marry ye in the daylight, like a proper lass should be wed.”

  The daylight is a dig at me, since I’m a vampire, who can only walk about in the night.

  Before Pohl can shut the door, she touches his arm, her tone turning desperate. “Please, Pohl? If you do me this one favor, I’ll leave you be. Ten minutes, and we’re gone. Stop by the pub tomorrow, and I’ll pay for all you can drink. In fact, I’ll buy your drinks for the next week. Won’t this be a hilarious story? You’ll be the only judge in the world to marry a fae and a vampire. It’s almost like you’re a pioneer, making history.”

  Pohl hesitates, and I can see we’re on our way. I coil my arm around her waist, as if I know how she prefers to be touched. But I don’t know. I don’t know her at all. But Pohl doesn’t need to be made aware of that. “Honeysuckle, let’s not insult the chap. I mean, if we’re waking him up at this hour, we should pay for his drinks for the whole month.”

  Pohl’s beady eyes widen, and finally he ushers us inside. I keep my hood forward, so he can only see part of my face.

  My stomach drops. If this bare-bones home is where a judge lives, I am officially spoiled. There’s a chair at the uneven and crumb-laden table that looks too sticky to sit on, but there’s precious little else in the undressed home. Pohl motions for us to sit, but I can’t bring myself to comply. When Lilya moves to take the chair, I tighten my arm around her waist. “Let’s make this quick, honeysuckle. I want to get a head start on our life together.” I can’t stomach her sitting on the tacky surface. Disgusting. Usually Alex is more the stickler for things being clean, but this level of filth is something I cannot abide.

  Fiora taps her cane on the wooden floor twice. “Quick now, Pohl. Do ye need me to send someone out to gather the paperwork?”

  Pohl shakes his head, huffing and throwing up his hands as he concedes. “I have extra copies in my study. Hold on.” He shuffles out, leaving us holding our breaths.

  “It’ll be alright, lad,” Fiora assures me. There’s real affection in her voice. I’m not sure Melinda’s ever sounded like that when she’s spoken to me. There’s a hard bite to Mum’s voice, but a sentence from Fiora relaxes my shoulders.

  Lilya gazes up at me, dropping the veil of bravery from her eyes as I tip my hood back so we can see each other more clearly. “Are you certain you want to do this?” She chews on her lower lip, as if she’s not just asking me, but herself also. “Because once we sign that license, there’s no going back.”

  This isn’t how I wanted this to happen. I mean, if I’m being honest, I never wanted this to happen ever. Marriage was the kiss of death for my parents. Great-grandfather won’t entertain the idea of permanently tying himself to another person at all. Call me a romantic, but I kind of thought that if it ever happened for me, it would be because I was in love. It would be a woman I trusted with my secrets, and who looked at me like I was someone amazing. The way Lilya looks at me now is more like she’s scared of the cliff we’re about to jump off. She’s asking a stranger if he’s solid enough to lean on, and in this moment, I’m honestly not sure.

  I want to hold her hand but my arm is broken, freshly reset and wrapped in the sling. The territories are getting so violent that a vampire can’t even walk on shifter soil. I can handle a beating, sure. But what if it had been someone else? One of my subjects who haven’t had proper training on how to take a blow and keep moving? I take in the scope of Lilya’s face—effortlessly pretty in that ethereal way all fae are born with. The scars on her face are because she was purposefully dumped in a dangerous place.

  The world needs to change, and this is the best way I can think of to make that happen.

  I look into her frightened eyes with all the tranquility I can muster, hoping to lend her some of my steadiness, though I don’t have much to spare. “I can’t sit back and watch the world crumble anymore. I need to do this. It doesn’t have to be you. I can find someone else, if you like. But if you don’t take this stand with me, it’s some other woman thrust into the mess.” I take a chance and give her hip a little squeeze. “Call me crazy, but I don’t think anyone else would be able to handle it all as well as you.” Then, to throw in a little mischief, I give her half a smile. “Think how red with rage your father will be when he sees you’ve married a vampire.”

  She sniggers and then gives me a nod, her shoulders relaxing. “Promise you’ll stay with me, no matter what happens? You won’t let them bite me? I’m used to vampires in Neutral Territory, who don’t try that at all. But I don’t know how the vampires in Drexdenberg behave.”

  Bollocks. She’s got far more to be concerned about by this little arrangement than I do, yet she’s still here, braving the broken future. All she’s asking is that I don’t make her go there alone.

  I turn her body so her stomach presses to my side. It’s intimate, which really isn’t me. It’s not any of us, actually, yet Salem let her hug his neck. He was a wolf, the coward, but still. Alex held her face and hugged her while her past tried its best to consume her. And here she is, tucked into my side like she belongs there. I’ve never been a cuddler, but this feels natural. Though, I’m fairly certain if I commented on it, she would stiffen and the moment would leave us forever. “Of course I won’t let anyone bite you. And it’s not just me. Alexavier and Salem seem pretty attached, yeah? They’ll help us.”

  I can feel her heart through h
er chest as she clings to me in a way that probably looks romantic, but only I know she’s fighting through bolting out the door. When the judge comes back out, we stay holding each other, saying nothing while Pohl fills out the paperwork.

  When he asks for my name, I keep my face hidden beneath my hood. “I go by Des,” I tell him, my hood still shrouding half my face. “It’s a terribly long name, the whole thing. I’ll spell it properly for you after we say our vows. I’m worried we’ll miss our window. Hurry, please.”

  I’m sweating, and Lilya’s legs are quaking so badly, I almost ask for a towel to put down on the sticky chair so she can sit. “Quickly,” she whispers. “I’ll fill my name in after our vows, too.”

  “Hannah” is the false name he knows her by, not her birth name. Once this all blows up, Pohl is going to want to get as far away from that license as possible.

  The formalities of the ceremony start out with Pohl explaining what marriage is—till death do us part, which it very well may come to. Pohl asks for the rings, and I can’t believe I didn’t think of something so basic. My family ring is the only jewelry I wear, so I grimace as I slide it off my finger. I’m not allowed to take it off. It’s got our family crest on it. Harris would faint if he saw it on the finger of a fae.

  “With this ring, I am your servant,” I promise, reciting the traditional vows I’ve heard at every wedding. “I promise to love you, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in want, in the day and in the night. Until the clouds take me, it’s your face I’ll hold forever in my heart.”

  The ring is far too big for her slender finger, but if Lilya minds, she doesn’t show it.

  Fiora touches her elbow and places something in Lilya’s hand. “Are you sure?” she asks the crone, who nods with a secretive smile.

  “Go on, sweetie. It’s my gift to ye. His ring is much too big. Magic is what ye make of it. I want ye to make much of the magic in this ring.”