by Keary Taylor
“You’ve got a deal,” I say, snagging one more quick kiss before he turns and heads for the front door. I watch as he goes. He grabs a set of sunshades before walking out and closing the door.
I’m not sure what to do with myself for a moment. There are too many people I need to talk to. Too many things I need to take care of.
But in this moment, I’m feeling disconnected with actually being here, back in my home. So I find my feet moving forward. I walk down the northern hall, listening for activity behind the doors. Lillian is in her bedroom, as is Rath. I open the next door, the one Sebastian was staying in when he was so brutally murdered. There, I find a perfectly clean and normal looking room.
I can only imagine the horror Beth and Angelica felt when they had to clean it up once they returned from San Diego.
I wander back the other way. I find the kitchen empty, Katina nowhere to be found, so I have free run of the kitchen. I make myself a towering sandwich, ravenously hungry, before I head upstairs.
Christian and Samuel are down in one bedroom. I hear their voices floating through the door, but I leave them be. Cameron’s door is wide open. I see him lying on his back in his bed, a set of ear buds in. He smiles and nods to me as I walk by.
Down at the end of the hall is the door to my bedroom.
I walk through, leaving it open, and sit on the edge of the mattress. Looking around, I suddenly feel out of place.
When I first arrived at the Conrath Estate, I felt so out of place. Nothing felt like it really belonged to me and it was months before I felt I could touch anything and not feel guilty about it.
Suddenly, I’m feeling like that again.
The only reason I felt comfortable here was because Henry was dead. He was gone, and I, his only heir, was left with everything.
But if Henry isn’t dead, what does that mean for me?
This house?
My leadership?
I know he didn’t ever want the leadership, but technically, if he’s still alive, all this is rightfully his.
My whole world suddenly feels very unstable.
Yet, I’d exchange it all for the possibility of knowing my father.
My sandwich finished, I rise to my feet. Back down the stairs. I grab a set of sunshades and walk outside.
It’s April, and Silent Bend is absolutely beautiful in the spring. Millions of flowers bloom all over the property. The front flowerbeds are breathtaking and grand. The trees that line the driveway from the road to the house sway in the breeze, fragrant and so full. I wander around the side of the house. The hedge maze is tall and thick, the gardens back here just as beautiful. The temperatures aren’t quite warm enough yet to warrant filling the pool, but it won’t be long.
It’s beautiful out, but there is this sense of dread in the air. Something urgent and ugly. It clinches at my heart, making it race.
The curse still lingers in the air.
My purpose in wandering the property is not solely to admire the beauty of the landscape. My sharp, enhanced eyes are looking for signs.
The boot prints under the windows. The handprint that’s barely visible on one of the back doors. The claw marks that scrape the metal of the fence that surrounds the graveyard.
Evidence of the snake army’s spies are all around my property.
“It’s all old,” Anna says.
I turn around to see her walking up from behind. I stand at the ledge before it drops down the bank and into the Mississippi River. We stand facing it, where I see footprints disappearing down the embankment and rising up on the other side, so far away.
“All the evidence,” Anna continues. “Except those prints. They showed up two days ago.”
“You think they’re hiding across the river?” I ask. I can see Louisiana every day from my house, yet I’ve never crossed the river to set foot on its soil.
Anna shrugs. “They could be hiding everywhere. I wandered around Porter, the town there, yesterday. The scent wore off after just a few miles.”
“So we’re still nowhere closer to discovering what’s going on?”
Anna slides her hands into her back pockets, looking out over the territory she helps me govern. This region, the entire southeastern portion of the United States, is Conrath territory. We’re in charge of it when it comes to the vampires. My rule, up to this point, has been so small, so focused. I know that issues are going to arise. Maybe something in Arkansas or South Carolina. And it’s going to be up to me to deal with it.
“Things have been quiet since the day Cyrus dragged you away from the Estate,” she says. “Not a single attack. No more missing people, at least, not from around here, that we know of. Alivia, I think they know you’re gone. They’ve been biding their time until you return. Now that you’re back, I think things are going to start getting deadly again.”
“Why is this so personal?” I ask. “Whoever is behind these attacks obviously has a huge beef against me and my family. First they tried to kill Henry—did, tried—I don’t know… And then they frame me for multiple major crimes, only to take a break while I go to trial?” I shake my head, the anger and resentment and the vengeance rising up inside of me. “I need to know why.”
“Henry had a lot of history. I’d say he must have done something pretty bad for them to carry a grudge this big on to the next generation.” Anna sighs, and it’s obvious, the toll this has already taken on her. I can only imagine how frustrating this must be. She’s in charge of my security, in being my General. And she’s no closer to taking them out than we were on day one.
“Well, if they still have spies around, they’ll have seen me by now,” I say. “I’m willing to bet things won’t stay quiet for long.”
“That’s for damn sure,” Anna agrees. She claps a hand on my shoulder and lifts her chin in the direction of the House. “Let’s get you inside. No need having you standing out here like a sitting duck.”
I chuckle as we walk back toward the house. “I’m certainly not afraid of some Bitten,” I say.
“After facing Cyrus, I’m sure you aren’t.” Anna laughs with me.
“But thank you for taking care of me,” I reply, appreciatively.
“Any time, princess.”
AROUND ELEVEN-THIRTY, MY VAMPIRE BODY has hit its limit. My brain is shot; my limbs feel half numb. I’m still not recovered from my time of imprisonment in Roter Himmel when they didn’t let me feed or give me anything to eat for over a month. My body is still thin, my bones too pronounced.
Katina made dinner for everyone in the house, and I ate my weight.
Now, I climb out of the shower, pulling on a short pair of cotton shorts and a thin tank top. The house is no longer freezing, no longer threatening to kill us all with the cold. My body greatly appreciates it.
It’s five minutes to twelve when I drag my exhausted body up into the enormous bed. A mattress has never felt so wonderful, blankets never so soft, and pillows never so cloud-like. A blissful moan escapes my throat as I lie down.
My eyes instantly slide closed, and my body releases all of the tension and uncertainty of the past two months.
I don’t even open my eyes when I hear my bedroom door swing open and then closed again. Something is set on the floor and my bed bows as someone kneels on it for a moment.
“I’m going to jump in the shower for a second and I’ll be right back,” Ian softly whispers against my skin, before pressing a kiss to my cheek.
“’K,” I grunt.
His form retreats, and while I was afraid I would immediately fall asleep, my brain is incredibly aware of Ian’s location. Of his footsteps as they retreat into the bathroom. Of the way he only closes the door part way. I hear him start the shower, running the water hot. A soft sound floats to my ears when he drops his clothes into the laundry basket in the corner of the bathroom.
This is going to be how things are now. I’m terrified to accept it. Things are looking almost normal between Ian and I. But I have to hope. After everything I’
ve been through in the last two months—the last ten months—I have to have hope.
But it still doesn’t quite feel real.
Time has moved too quickly from the days where we were at each other’s throats, yelling and screaming that the other was wrong.
‘Cause we were both wrong.
I smile, absolutely grateful for every trial we’ve gone through. ‘Cause it’s all brought us to here. Where we needed to be.
I hear the water shut off in the bathroom. I listen as Ian dries off and pulls on some clothes. He brushes his teeth. And finally, pushes open the door to pad across the hardwood floor to the bed.
It sags in Ian’s direction as he crawls his way up to my side. He wraps a gentle arm around my waist. “You awake?” he whispers, so quietly.
I nod and roll toward him. I’ve been a vampire for three months now, but being able to see in the dark is still disorienting. Still shocking.
We study each other, and I’m grateful for quiet moments where we don’t have to ask each other about what’s going on or what we have to face in a few hours. I’m just allowed to stare into his hazel eyes, searching their depths. I can study the hard planes of his face, memorize every little scar, like the one on his right cheek, about a half an inch under his eye.
I can let this feeling grow inside of me, making me absolutely sure about the words that I speak.
“I love you.” They come out strong. Sure. And it’s a relief of the beautiful pressure that’s been building in my chest when they come out. “I’ve loved you for a long time, Ian Ward. I never stopped. And that’s never going to change.”
My confession was not uttered in some grand moment of do or die realization. That realization was achieved long ago, and I’ve just been too scared to admit it until recently.
But it’s always been there.
Ian reaches up, resting his hand against my cheek. He brushes his thumb over my skin, studying my eyes. “You made me make a promise once, not to fall in love with you, because we had an expiration date. But we both knew I was lying when I agreed to it. I love you, too, Alivia. And even this immortal life I unexpectedly woke up to isn’t going to be enough.”
He raises my hand up to his mouth, pressing his lips gently to my knuckles. His eyes slide closed, and the expression on his face, it’s full of reverence. Of worship.
Slowly, with no hurry, he lets his lips go from my knuckles, to my wrist. Down my arm, taking his time. Appreciating my skin. Taking in low, deep breaths.
Sparks ignite in my lower belly as he shifts, rolling above me, supporting himself on his knees and one hand. He brings his lips to my neck, soft.
My hands will not be kept to themselves. They slide up his arms, over the strong and lean muscles. Appreciating his defined shoulders. Coming to either side of his neck. Finally, his lips come to mine. Gentle, lingering for a moment.
Breathing in this moment, and knowing that it is real. That all of the mistakes and the anger are behind us. Taking a moment to give gratitude to the past.
My heart skips more than once. Flutters. Races. The passion races down my spine, sparking my blood as it travels. Taking no prisoners as it destroys every ounce of control I possess.
My hands knot in his hair and my back arches, aching to meet his body, hard plane to soft skin.
Ian’s lips part and his teeth take possession of my bottom lip. Rough, ragged breaths rip from his chest as his free hand wraps around my back, hoisting my body up off the bed and yanking me against his hard body. His hands are hot, strong.
One of my legs wraps around his waist, hooking me around him so he can never escape. He grinds his pelvis into mine, hard and firm. A blissful moan escapes my mouth, only to be caught by his.
“I love you, Alivia,” Ian breathes roughly in to me. His hand slides down to cup my rear, pulling me all the harder into him. “I love you so much. Every,” his lips slide down to my neck and I feel his fangs lengthen just slightly, grazing against the tender, sensitive skin there, “damn bit of you.”
I feel my eyes ignite and my own fangs lengthen. I shift, using my strength to make Ian roll beneath me. I pin him to the bed, my knees on either side of his hips. I take his hands in mine, trapping them high above his head. Once more, I take ownership of his lips, making them mine. Making sure he knows they will never belong to another woman for as long as he lives.
Hours roll away. My lips swollen and tender. Our bodies becoming familiar. But I smile to myself. Because there’s still that small measure he holds back from me. That thing he keeps. And I love that he does.
Because I know. Some day, when the time is right, when he’s ready—when we’re ready—we’ll give that fullness to each other.
But for right now, when we’ve survived so much together, when we’ve overcome so many hardships and impossibilities, this is more than I ever could have asked for.
Ian and Alivia.
Together.
WHEN I WAKE AT DAWN, Ian is still sleeping. Careful not to disturb him, I slip out from beneath his arm, dress silently, and head down the stairs.
“Good morning, princess,” Cameron greets me warmly as he licks something off of his fingers. He’s constantly eating, yet he’s skinny as a reed.
“Hey,” I say with a smile. Maybe it’s things returning to normal. Maybe it’s the beautiful night I’ve just had, but I’m in a fantastic mood. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him in for a tight hug. “Ah,” I sigh. “It’s good to be home.”
Cameron chuckles and pats my back. “Things weren’t the same without you here. When we going to have another special movie night?”
I release him with a laugh. “I don’t know. Maybe we’ll have to plan something out.”
“Soon,” he says, raising his eyebrows at me.
I just smile and head for the garage door. “Hey, will you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” he says as he follows me. He darts into the kitchen on our way and snags a scone off of the counter. He looks down at the counter, picks something up, and hands it over to me.
It’s a post card, from Texas.
“If Ian wakes up before I get back, will you tell him I’ve run to town?” I grab the keys to the Porsche that hang on the rack next to the door and tuck the card into my pocket to look at later.
“Yep,” he answers through a mouthful of crumbs.
“And…” I hesitate. This isn’t going to be easy, especially for the first few weeks. “Could you try, really hard, to help him…fit in? Maybe try to be his friend?”
He chuckles at this and holds his arms out wide. “Liv, it’s me. You think that’d ever be a problem?”
I laugh with him, because it’s true. There’s something so easy and fun about Cameron. If you have the patience for his, at times, immature ways, it’s hard to not get along with him.
“Thank you,” I say as I open the door into the garage and look back with a smile. He waves and turns back to the kitchen.
The garage door gives small popping sounds as it rises. Light spills in from under the door and I’m quick to pull on my sun goggles. They’re nice. They look just like a pair of stylish sunglasses, but the backs of them fully encase my eyes, and they’re so darkly shaded with special lenses that all the sunlight is diluted enough to not cause me more than a tiny bit of discomfort. I’ll probably have a headache by the time I get back later, but at least I’m not wishing for death.
The day is beautiful and a light breeze blows through the trees that dot the driveway down to the road. The gates swing open as I pull up to them, my family’s crest splitting down the middle to let me out. I turn right onto the road, drive a little ways, and turn right again onto Main Street.
It’s early, barely six in the morning. There are very few people out and about, but there are some. The lights are on at Fred’s. Someone is filling their car at the gas station. The lawn is being mowed at the elementary school.
I turn left and head down the street five blocks.
While most of
town has been sleepy and quiet, the construction site is in full swing. The five units I had started months ago look half finished. Siding is being nailed up on one house. Trim is going up around the windows of another.
When I started these units, I did it as a way to gain Silent Bend’s good will. I was at war with Jasmine, who was doing her very best to turn everyone against me. So this was one way to fight back.
It’s amazing how things have changed in just a few months. When I first arrived here, Jasmine and her Broken House were such a threat. I was so scared of them because I was told to be so. She seemed so strong, so hard to beat.
And now, she’s dead.
She was nothing compared to the next threat I’d face. Nothing in comparison to the weight of the moon that is King Cyrus.
My presence here has drawn the attention of several workers. It would be hard not to, sitting in my baby blue Porsche. It’s a looker. Furrowed brows and extended necks turn in my direction. I see their mouths move and their words float to my enhanced ears.
“That the Conrath girl?” one asks.
“I heard she died in the storm,” another speaks up. “Thought she left her fortune to that house of freaks she took from Jasmine.”
“Looks alive and well to me.”
“Think the rumors are true?”
This gains him a sharp look from the first man. “Watch your tongue. You know what happened last time people went speculating. You can wonder, but you don’t say it out loud.”
They both look in my direction, distrust and fear in their eyes.
I don’t know what to do about this. I’ve been trying, for so long, to gain the trust of the people here. But things keep happening, and I don’t know that they’re ever going to stop happening.
Maybe there really is nothing I can do about it.
Maybe in some ways, Henry was right to just keep to himself.
It’s certainly easier.
I start the car and flip around. I can feel eyes following me and can only imagine what’s running through their heads.
I’m already gaining legendary status. In this short timeframe. Just like Henry.