House of Ravens

by Keary Taylor

  My stomach feels sick. The brutality of Cyrus is endless.

  “In the end, they took my son to Court against his will. When he continued to insist he did not wish to join them, they killed my son, and my wife.”

  “That’s awful,” I say, disgust filling me. But I can’t say I’m shocked. Cyrus is a madman.

  There are four glass urns of ashes in the library. Now I know who two of them are.

  “So, I distanced myself from the system, told myself I was done with the Houses and the politics. I moved from England to America to get away. To get a brand new start.

  “But your mother, she was so much like my wife, and maybe I was just caught in a lonely moment.” Henry’s voice grows quiet. “But just because we are immortal, just because I’ve had a lifetime of solitude, save Rath, doesn’t mean we don’t miss having a connection. Your mother was sweet. Gentle. Attentive.”

  I can imagine how it went. Two people who had a connection, easy and smooth. And that leading to a night where two people became one, only to unexpectedly create another life between them.

  “Your mother came back the next day, and as badly as I wished to spend time with her again, I knew I was too broken to let her stay. I had to let her go. And she did. A short time later, she left town.”

  Only to discover weeks later that she was pregnant. And it makes sense now, why she never told Henry. They’d shared such a connection one night, and then it probably felt like he gave her the cold shoulder of a meaningless one-night stand. When really, she just didn’t know the pain my father had already suffered.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, looking into his eyes. “It’s a story I’ve wondered about for twenty-three years now. It’s nice knowing that you did care for her, as simple as it was.”

  “Your mother was a wonderful person, and I wish things could have been different,” my father says quietly.

  “But I don’t want there to be regrets,” I say, even though there are so many things I wish could be different. “Because in the end, everything brought me here. And I’m so happy. So grateful for the paths that have led to this moment.”

  I see the pain on my father’s face, knowing he, too, wishes for things to be different than they are. But also the pride and joy he feels.

  “I love you, Dad,” I say, hugging myself into him.

  “I love you, too, Alivia.” And the way he squeezes me to him, I know he speaks the truth.

  The song comes to an end and someone taps me on the shoulder.

  “Can I steal my bride back?”

  I turn to see Ian, smiling with eyes only for me. Without words, Henry lets me go, backing away with a tiny bow.

  Ian takes my hand in his and wraps his arm around my waist. He smiles down at me as if I am the sun, moon, and stars.

  “It feels like it took a damn long time, and we took the absolute hardest, rockiest road,” Ian says as he holds me close, that mischievous smile on his lips. “But we got here, Liv. We did it.”

  “I love you,” I say, not holding anything back. My joy is complete. My soul, happy.

  “I love you, too,” he says as he pulls me all the closer.

  AN HOUR LATER, I’M CHANGED into regular clothes and a packed bag waits by the front door. The House is quiet for just a few moments, everyone well worn after the all-day party. They’re changing, refueling.

  “I need just a few minutes to speak to Rath,” I tell Ian before we leave.

  He doesn’t ask why, and I wonder if maybe he knows what I need to speak to him about. But he lets go of my hand and lets me walk into the ballroom where the man, who I looked up to like a father, stands.

  “Can we talk outside for a few minutes?” I say as I come up behind him. He turns to look at me, and it’s difficult to read his expression. For some time, I’ve been afraid of alone time with Rath. Because I still don’t think I’ve earned his forgiveness.

  He nods, and the two of us walk out the back doors. Out across the grass, to the edge of where the river drops down. I need distance, enough of it to not be overheard.

  “I understand why now you were so angry with me when I did what I did to Danielle,” I say, feeling my stomach turn. The poor girl I killed when Cyrus made me play one of his games, the girl I turned to a Bitten by accident. “I don’t blame you for being disappointed in me.”

  The look in Rath’s eyes as he looks back at me hides nothing. He was—is disappointed in me.

  “I’m trying really hard to be a different person. A better one.” My throat feels thick. I so desperately want to get back to what he and I had before everything got so twisted and deadly. “And I’m going to spend the rest of my life earning your forgiveness, if that’s what it takes.” I squeeze my eyes closed for just a moment, because it’s painful. I hate that he and I are in this place. “But I have this feeling that you still need some time and distance from me.”

  I open my eyes once more, and nothing has changed in the way Rath looks at me. There’s still anger there. Distrust. Disappointment.

  “And I need to let you have that,” I say quietly, hoping he can see the desperation in my eyes. “But I have the Royal blood and audacity to ask you to do something for me. Something important. Something that goes beyond me and affects the Conrath name.”

  Rath’s brows furrow. His body tenses. “And what is that?”

  I twist the hem of my shirt, turning my knuckles white. A lump forms in my throat. This is a secret I’ve protected for so long. One only my husband and my father know. But I have to make sacrifices for it.

  For her.

  “I have a daughter, Rath,” I say quietly. I study his face as I speak, watching as all the worry lines in his face relax, surprise taking over. “She’s a Royal Born. I saw her father in Roter Himmel, there’s no question about it.”

  Emotion stings the back of my eyes and tears well there. I swallow hard. “She’s only four, but something in my gut tells me…” I falter, unable to get my tongue to form the words. “It tells me that she’s-”

  “Don’t say it,” Rath cuts me off, raising a hand and placing two fingers against my lips, sealing in the deadly truth that will change so much. He shakes his head, his eyes fierce.

  I swear there’s a tiny hint of yellow that ignites in his eyes.

  I shake my head in agreement, grateful that he understands, and doesn’t make me confess my greatest fear. He lowers his hand, staring at me with something new in his eyes.

  “This is the name of the agency who helped me place her with a family,” I say, reaching into my pocket and withdrawing a small piece of paper with a name and a phone number. I hand it to Rath. He studies it closely. “You guided and protected me when I needed you most. And I have the Royal blood and audacity to ask you to do the same thing for her,” I repeat my earlier words.

  He looks up at me, a million things running through his expression. Awe. Shock. Disbelief.

  But no anger. No frustration. No offense.

  He looks back down at the piece of paper.

  “I don’t even know what they named her,” I say around the boulder in my throat. “I asked for a closed adoption. I just know that her family lived somewhere in Colorado, and her birthday is June second. I hope it will be enough information for you to be able to find her.”

  Rath looks back up at me, and I see something settle into his eyes.

  “I know Henry wants to get to know me, and that we still need a lot of time together,” I continue. “But he removed himself from the House system long ago. That hasn’t changed. When the time is right, I do believe he will join you. But I need someone now. I need you, Rath, to watch over my daughter.”

  He continues staring at me for a moment, searching over this woman he has such mixed feelings about. But finally, he nods. “I will protect your daughter. I will guide her when the time is right.”

  I bite my lower lip, attempting to contain all of my emotions. I take a step forward, placing my hand on his dark cheek. “You’ve been essential to the Conrath fami
ly for a long time. I hope you know how much I value and appreciate you. I hope you know that I love you.”

  Rath’s hand rises to cover mine, holding my hand against his face. He stares into my eyes. He doesn’t say anything. He’s not ready for the words yet. And that’s okay. But he nods once, a curt, thin-lipped thing.

  “It’s time to go, Alivia,” Ian calls from the veranda behind me.

  I look back to Rath, offering him an appreciative smile and a squeeze of the hand, before I walk back toward the house.

  I take Ian’s hand and we walk back through the ballroom. Waiting for us in the foyer is every member of the House. Every member of my family.

  I give each and every one of them a hug. Squeezing tight, words of love and appreciation. And I know without a doubt, they feel the same.

  Surely, no other House has become such a tight-knit unit. Surely, no others have become such a bonded family, made up of random, thrown together strangers.

  “Have fun,” Cameron winks dramatically at me when he opens the front door for Ian and I. I swing a playful punch at his arm as we walk out.

  Waiting in the middle of the drive, sits the Porsche with Henry standing just off to the side. He opens the passenger door for me, but pulls me into his arms for one last hug.

  “I’m so glad you were here for this,” I say quietly.

  “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” my father says before letting me go. I slide into the passenger seat, watching as Henry hugs Ian once he’s done putting our bags in the back.

  I glance back at the house, watching as everyone files out to watch us leave for our honeymoon. They smile and wave, blowing kisses.

  Things are never going to be smooth in our world. Everything is at peace for right now, but there will always be problems that will arise. We can’t expect things to be smooth sailing from here on out. The House system is in place for a reason. I am charged with governing our area, with taking care of problems and keeping the vampire society a secret.

  But for right now, we’ve earned our moment of quiet and peace. I’ve earned the right to wear this smile, to blow happy kisses back to my family.

  To go on a honeymoon with my brand new husband.

  To be happy.

  “Are you ready?” Ian asks once more as he slips into the driver’s seat, leaning across the console for a kiss.

  “I’m ready for anything,” I tell him, just before pressing my lips to his.

  “THAT WAS THE LAST OF the houses,” May says as she walks back from the front door. “Nice little family with two young kids.”

  “That’s great,” I say as I look up from where I’m going over the budget with Libby, the woman Rath hired to replace him as the manager of the Estate. I’m way more involved in the details than I ever was when Rath was in charge, and I think it’s good I learn it all.

  With Lillian gone, May has taken over with the PR of Silent Bend and the applications for the Conrath low-income housing development. We’ve just rented out the last of the units.

  Things have normalized in the months since Ian and I returned from our honeymoon. Silent Bend is just a sleepy little town. The House of Conrath members are respectable citizens. I lead with Ian at my side, and everyone else carries on as normal.

  The only thing that’s different is the absence of Lula, who passed away just two days after we came home from our honeymoon. With her gone, Elle is Ian’s charge and permanently lives with us.

  May walks into the library and sets a stack of mail on the desk. I glance over at it as she walks away.

  An off-white envelope with a red, wax seal catches my attention from the top of the stack. I grab it, turning it over. My name is written in elegant script on the front, and there’s a subtle smell to it that makes my blood still.

  Time and pine trees.

  I slip my finger under the seal, breaking it open. Quickly, my eyes scan it, and dread and ice fill my stomach.

  The phone in the foyer rings.

  I hate it when that phone rings.

  It’s never someone I want to talk to.

  It’s never good.

  I walk to the table it rests on and pick it up.

  “Hello?”

  “Alivia, it’s good to hear your voice. It means you’re alive and well.”

  A butter smooth voice comes through on the other end, bringing an overwhelming sense of dread and fear into my stomach. “Cyrus,” I breathe.

  I can almost feel him smile from across the world, knowing exactly the effect he’s having on me with just a few words.

  “I just wanted to congratulate you on your success in taking care of that pesky Bitten problem,” he continues. “Quite an uprising. Noriko told me there were 582 bodies in the end on that battlefield. And thank you for bringing to light how very much I’ve truly been letting the situation carry on for too long. Did you receive my letter?”

  “Just now,” I say, looking down at it in my hand.

  It will change things.

  It is a declaration that from here on out, the creation of any Bitten is punishable by death. It also alludes that the hunting down and extermination of any existing Bitten wouldn’t be frowned upon.

  This is a genocide order.

  “Thank you for helping us get here,” Cyrus says from the other line. “I do believe our secret will be far safer without their wild kind running about, mucking things up. Don’t you agree?”

  I shake my head, my stomach tightening. “Most of them are just innocent people, Cyrus. Most of them had no choice in the matter. It’s our fault, usually, when they’re created.”

  Cyrus chuckles. “An unfortunate side effect of our thirst.” He’s always referred to the Bitten as that. “Think of this as an opportunity for our kind to learn a great deal more self-control.”

  “It won’t work that way,” I say, shaking my head, and thinking of how all-consuming the bloodlust can be. Of how I created Danielle. Of how Markov cannot stop himself sometimes.

  “It has to,” Cyrus says, his voice growing harder. “What happened in Silent Bend four months ago will never transpire again. I value our secrecy too greatly. Can you help me keep that secrecy, Alivia?”

  Ian and Henry step into the foyer just then, looks of concern and wariness on their faces.

  “Of course,” I agree as I swallow hard. My focus drifts to the space beneath the ballroom floor, to a refrigerated unit that houses bins of glass vials.

  To the Bitten cure my father created to save another’s life.

  “That’s a good girl,” King Cyrus says, and I can just picture the cold smile that curls on his lips.

  I close my eyes, trying not to imagine another innocent girl having to endure his twisted manipulation like I did. To be charmed by his two faces.

  “I’m glad to hear things have been running smoothly in your House,” he says. Ian and Henry come closer, their ears straining to hear the words Cyrus speaks. “I appreciate you doing everything you can to keep things under control in your region.”

  “I’ll continue to do my best,” I say as aggravation begins to replace my fear. My fingers curl into fists and my heart rate calms, replaced by determination.

  “Thank you kindly,” he says, his voice friendly, but so very cold. “You have a wonderful day, Alivia. Talk to you soon.”

  Slowly, I lower the phone, hanging it back up, just as Anna walks into the foyer, fight and war in her eyes.

  But she must read the expression on my face. “What’s wrong?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing that far out of the usual.” Because this is my life, immortal and complex as it is.

  “You sure?” Ian asks. Everything in his body is tensed, ready to spring to action with the smallest indication from me that anything is wrong.

  “For now,” I reply, a small smile forming on my face as I look from my husband, so ready for violence and war, to my father, who searches my face, trying to read the truth from my very skin.

  “We do have a situation to deal with,” A
nna moves on, oblivious as to how things are about to change, once again, in the world of vampires and Royals. “There are reports up in Jackson of a coven trying to take over the city. I sent Lexington and Trinity up there last night. It’s a group of nine Born.”

  Ian and Henry look back at me, knowing the whiplash I’m suffering at the moment.

  The fear Cyrus can evoke in me with just a few words.

  The implications of this new declaration.

  But it’s my duty as this area’s regent.

  I take a deep breath.

  I stand a little straighter.

  I look around at the House members that are gathering around, ready to help me tackle yet another situation.

  And I hold my head high as a Conrath and a House leader.

  “Let’s go deal with this,” I say.

  Keary Taylor grew up along the foothills of the Rocky Mountains where she started creating imaginary worlds and daring characters who always fell in love. She now splits her time between a tiny island in the Pacific Northwest and Utah, dragging along her husband and their three children. She continues to have an overactive imagination that frequently keeps her up at night.

  To learn more about Keary and her writing process, please visit www.KearyTaylor.com.