by Keary Taylor
She leads us to a hallway that breaks off to the north. It’s long, and I see a dozen doors scattered on either side. She walks halfway down it, and swings it open.
It reveals a beautiful bedroom, decorated in gold and green. A massive bed sits in the middle. Behind it, thick curtains are pulled over the windows, blocking out the light that will soon be filling the world. Off to the left, I see a simple bathroom attached.
“How much longer will he be out for?” Alivia asks as Rath carefully lays him on the bed.
“Another ten or so hours,” Rath answers, brushing back Eshan’s hair from his forehead.
And I remember, Rath has been watching me, watching my family, for Eshan’s entire life.
Alivia nods. “We’ll come back in a while then, give him the cure while he sleeps, so he doesn’t even have to feel the pain.”
“Pain?” I ask, my eyes whipping up to hers.
She gives a little nod. “Just for a minute or so. But yes, it does always seem to be painful.”
I shake my head. “Rath, you said Cyrus knows about this cure. But he’s still outlawed the very existence of the Bitten. I… How did this cure even come into existence?”
A brief look is exchanged between Alivia and Rath. But she looks back at me with confidence and answers in her eyes.
“My sister-in-law, Elle,” she offers, “is a brilliant chemist. Back when she was in college, about your age actually, she developed the cure, with the help of another woman. She was risking her own life, helping innocent victims who had been turned. This was several years after Cyrus outlawed the existence of the Bitten. She eventually confessed everything to Cyrus. And he pardoned her. He told her to stop what she was doing, which she did. But we both still have some of the cure. Just for special cases, like your brother.”
I swallow once, my throat feeling tight. I understand that risk Elle was taking. How dangerous it is for Alivia to even have any of this cure in her possession, considering Cyrus told them to stop.
“Thank you,” I say. And that’s all I can manage.
Alivia just nods once. She steps out of the room, and Rath and I follow her back down the hall.
We cross the foyer once more, and to the south side. We enter into a beautiful kitchen, where a man works furiously on some food.
He’s human. I can smell it.
“Everything is just about finished, Alivia,” he says, wrapping things up.
“Thanks, Parker,” she says.
“Alivia,” Rath asks, looking around. “Where is everyone?”
She looks around, as well. She blushes just a little bit. “I asked the House to give us some space. At least for a few hours, or whenever I tell them they can come back. I thought it might be better to have some time, with just us, before we introduce everyone else.”
I nod, grateful.
Alivia gestures to a smaller, informal dining table just to the side of the kitchen. Awkwardly, I work my way to it, sitting in a chair across from Alivia.
She rests her head in her hand, her elbow on the table, and just looks at me.
My eyes dart away, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze.
“How are you adjusting?” she finally asks.
My chest tightens. My fingers curl into fists in my lap.
I shrug. “It’s…it’s not easy. But not in a way anyone else can understand.”
Her eyes fill with sadness. She gets what I’m talking about.
“How…how long has it been, since you woke up?”
I know she’s not just talking about a nap, or a good nights sleep.
“Five nights,” I supply.
Her eyes grow wide, her face blanching just a little bit. “Five nights? You…” She shakes her head, a look of respect on her face. “You seem to have some pretty incredible control for it being such a little amount of time. I would have drained Parker in about ten seconds just five nights after I woke up.”
She points her thumb over her shoulder at the human man now wrapping things up in the kitchen.
“I had a snack just before we got into town,” I say, feeling uncomfortable at the confession.
Alivia lets out another breath though, shaking her head. “Still. Those first few weeks, they weren’t easy for me.”
I nod, swallowing once. “I guess it’s easier, because I knew what to expect. I’ve done this just a few times before.”
She sits back in her seat, her eyes sobering.
Right.
Parker carries over a few platters, setting them on the table before us.
Thick French toast, scrambled eggs. Piles of fruit. A pitcher of orange juice.
And a pitcher of blood.
“Hope you’re hungry,” Alivia says. Her voice is quiet and tight.
I am actually. My stomach gives a growl, reminding me that I haven’t eaten anything since we left Dallas early last night. And even then, it was only an apple and a cheese stick.
I begin dishing food onto my plate.
I glance awkwardly at Rath, and note how stiff and uncomfortable even he seems.
“So, why don’t you tell me about yourself, …” she trails off, and it takes me a moment to realize she’s questioning what to call me.
No one, not even myself seems to know the answer to that.
“Just…” I shake my head awkwardly. “Just Logan, for now.”
“Logan,” she says, smiling a little smile. “I’d like to learn more about you, your life. If you don’t mind.”
I sigh, already tired and overwhelmed.
“I…” Alivia struggles to find the words. “I get it. This is awkward, and weird, and probably way too soon. I don’t think either of us was really prepared for this to happen yet. But,” she reaches across the table and gently covers my hand with hers. “Here we are.”
I look up at her, and I try. I try really hard to piece this woman into the picture I always had of my birth mother. But nothing, not a single bit of her, matches.
Still, I nod.
“I’m guessing you already know some things,” I say as I cut into the French toast. “I’m sure Rath has reported plenty of details. Considering he’s been watching me for you, most of my life.”
Electric and heavy. The air could suffocate us all.
“I…”
But I cut Alivia off. “It’s fine,” I say around my bite, chewing and speaking at the same time. I feel my Logan-esque defenses rising, the bitter and the bold gathering inside of me.
“I was placed with a family in Greendale,” I say. “I don’t know how close you lived to there when you…had me.”
“A smaller town, about an hour from there,” she says, still tense and defensive.
I nod. “My parents names are Gemma and Ethan Pierce. They couldn’t have kids of their own. I lived in a nice, red brick house in a quiet family neighborhood my entire life.” I stab my fork into a strawberry and pop it into my mouth. “When I was five, my parents adopted my brother, Eshan. He was one. It was a pretty normal childhood.”
I look over at Rath, who chews slowly, watching my face the entire time.
“Rath stepped into my life in a public way when I was fourteen,” I continue the condensed story of my entire life, the one this woman was never a part of. “He became friends with my parents, and soon he was just always there. Like an uncle and a friend.”
I still can’t cope with that. The history between us, the family dinners, the laughs at the end of the driveway. The time he helped me study for a US history test. How proud he was when I got my degree.
But I now realize I never really knew anything about him. Who he was? Where he came from? Why he was always there?
“I graduated from high school,” I suddenly continue, snapping my eyes back to Alivia. “Then I went to college.”
“You have a degree already?” she asks. Her voice is so timid.
I realize she’s terrified.
I can’t blame her.
There’s a lot of aspects about this that are so heavy.
>
I nod. “Just an associates, which was all I needed for what I went into.”
“Which is?” she encourages.
I swallow once.
She knows all of this.
Surely she knows all of this.
Rath has been spying on me my entire life and reporting back to her.
“Mortuary science,” I say in a hard voice. My grip on my fork tightens, and instantly it bends to the shape of my fingers.
All eyes snap to it. I release it, and it collapses to the table. It makes a loud clatter, one that rings throughout this entire, huge house.
“I really loved my job,” I say quietly. I think back, to the quiet moments in the preparation room. Just me and the dead. They were such good listeners. They all had such great life stories. “I really wanted to work there for a long time.”
A quiet, weighted moment follows.
For a moment, I finally get a second to mourn.
My human life. The life I’d worked so hard for.
Gone.
Over.
“I’m so sorry,” Alivia says, reaching over once more and placing her hand on mine.
I slide my hand back, tucking it into my lap under the table.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. Grateful for the momentary distraction and release of all this…pressure building inside of me, I pull it out.
I just wanted you to know that I have been thinking about you all night.
And then a second message. How are you?
Cyrus.
My heart flutters and I let my eyes slide closed for a moment.
Our moments together, if only connected through this phone, come rushing back to me. The connection I felt. The comfort in hearing his voice. The memories that washed over me. The amount of time I knew he’d spent looking for me. Searching.
My jaw tightens, heat sparks in my chest.
I let my eyes slide open.
Falling on Alivia Ryan Conrath.
“I’ve heard a lot about you. From the House of Valdez. From Rath. From Cyrus.”
The cold in my voice widens Alivia’s eyes. She stops breathing and leans back in her chair, her fingers curling into tight fists.
“I heard you knew nothing about your heritage, just like me,” I say. That familiar acid rises in my blood. It takes over, turning my vision fuzzy and gray. “But that once you knew your place, you rose to the occasion.”
I wrap my hand around the glass of blood. My fingers tighten, and there’s a single popping sound as the glass cracks just a tiny bit.
I raise it to my lips, taking a sip.
I enjoy the taste of it as it slides over my tongue. I enjoy the cooling sensation as it slips down my throat. The utter satisfaction as it hits my stomach.
“I haven’t heard details,” I continue. “But there are certainly legends of your…plots to gain followers. You knew how to read people, how to work them to get what you want.”
“Logan-” she begins to defend.
But I continue on.
“I heard you actually married the man who everyone says broke your heart and pushed you to do some very questionable things. You must be a very forgiving person.”
“Logan,” Rath growls low and dark.
“I guess it runs in our blood,” I say. “You forgave Ian Ward, and I keep forgiving Cyrus. The only difference is, Cyrus never turned his back on me.”
“You have no idea what Ian has been through,” Alivia says, her voice sparking with defense and anger. “What his family put him through. Ian is a good man.”
My eyes harden, just as my heart does. “And what about you, Alivia? Is someone who toys with someone else’s heart to console their own broken one a good person? Is someone who kisses a man she’s leading on, and could have gotten him killed, a good person?”
Her face is stunned. Frozen in a mask of horror and shock.
“Is someone who left me in the dark, only to let my life be cut short because a member of the House of Valdez recognized me, you, and dragged me into this mess, a good person? Is a person who asks someone to live a life of lies for sixteen years,” I wave a hand in Rath’s direction, “a good person?”
Alivia suddenly stands and slaps her hands down on the table. Her eyes ignite red, her expression livid. “Well, this certainly is not how I imagined this moment. You do not know me, Logan. Others can tell the story however they like. But you don’t know what me, or my husband, have been through, and the battles we’ve had to fight to carve out this life for us, and everyone around us. How dare you judge me, us, when you don’t really know anything.”
“I know that I have never seen Cyrus speak with the hardness he does when he talks about you, Alivia,” I growl as I, too, stand, staring at this woman across the table. “Cyrus has had many, many enemies over the years, but none have left scars like you have.”
She’s silent for a moment. I see it in her eyes, she replays whatever happened between the two of them, recalling their past that I really don’t want to know anything about.
But they regain their focus, finding me in front of her once more.
“You’re right,” she says. “I made mistakes. I wasn’t kind or careful with Cyrus. I did make him believe. I made him hope. But the King is not innocent in any of this, either.”
My blood heats to a boiling point. I feel my fangs lengthen just slightly. “What did he ever do to you?” I’m not quite yelling, but almost.
Rath’s hand suddenly darts out, gripping mine.
I look over at him. There’s darkness in his eyes. A warning. The truth. He shakes his head just slightly.
Alivia straightens. With cold hardness in her eyes, she reaches up to the neckline of her shirt. She tugs it down, exposing her chest a bit.
She reveals a scar there.
Not just a scar. A brand.
The skin is red and rippled. But I see it there, clear as day. The shape of a crest, a raven set at the center. The exact same as the crest in Rath’s ring.
“It’s not just what he did to me,” she says. “But to every member of the House of Conrath.”
My breathing comes out hard. I’m wired. I’m an explosive about to set off. A warrior ready to fight to the death over the man I love.
I’m capable of a lot right now. A lot of danger. A lot of blood.
So I do the only safe thing.
I walk away.
But this is not my House. This is not my territory.
I don’t know anyone here. I don’t know anything about this town. I don’t know anything about this entire side of the country.
So I go to the only familiar thing for thousands of miles.
I walk to Eshan’s room, and close the door behind me.
Chapter 12
Eshan still sleeps on the bed. He looks dead. I have to watch him for a moment to make sure his chest is still rising and falling. When it does, I cross to the bed and sink onto it with a weighted huff of breath.
My phone vibrates again, reminding me that I never actually opened the text message from Cyrus.
I pull it out.
And I just stare at the screen.
And stare.
I don’t even know how I am right now, I text.
Almost immediately, Cyrus responds. What’s wrong?
I pause for a moment, considering how much information to share. Cyrus is known to go overboard. I have to be careful, because I do know he’ll do anything for me, anything to protect me.
But he’s also the person who knows me best. And I need someone to talk to.
I just met Alivia for the first time, I type out. Not a single bit of it went how I’ve always imagined things would be if I ever met my birth mother.
Oh, he sends as a single word.
That’s very big, indeed, he sends after a moment.
That doesn’t surprise me though. This is Alivia, after all.
I shake my head and something in my chest tightens. No, it wasn’t even her. It’s just…all these memories from other people got
into my head. Everything everyone has ever told me. I just…I couldn’t even give her a chance.
I hit send, and I wait for a long minute after it says he’s read the message.
To be fair, not everyone is what they seem at first. Reputations do not always encompass the full breadth of a person in reality.
I read his words four times.
He’s not just talking about Alivia. He speaks of himself, and my first impression of him.
But these are big words from him. Considering they are spoken about Alivia.
It isn’t easy, being that much of an adult, I send him, smiling slightly.
You’ve always been the better person, he responds. You’ve always known what the right thing was.
His words warm my chest and relieve some of the hot pokers surrounding my heart. I physically feel my muscles relax slightly.
Thank you, Cyrus, I type out.
Always.
I breathe a little sigh as I set my phone beside me on the bed.
All of this is wrong. The timing. The manner. The circumstances.
I’m not good at dealing with these kinds of things.
I look back at my brother and I’m comforted. He would have known I wouldn’t handle this very well.
I shift on the bed, climbing up to lay my head on the pillow beside him. I reach up, pushing his hair off his forehead.
A small smile pulls on my lips. And for just a moment, I tell myself that it’s all worth it, however this whole trip might go. I’m here because of my brother. And I’ll do anything for him.
* * *
Time already has a different meaning, and it’s only been five nights since I became an immortal cursed to die a terrible death.
I have no idea how long I’ve been lying on the bed with my brother when there’s a knock on the door and a moment later Rath steps inside.
I halfway sit up, meeting his eyes.
He stands just inside the door, hands folded in front of him. His demeanor is calm, as almost always. But his eyes. I see how disappointed in me he is. How conflicted he is over everything that has happened since our arrival in Silent Bend, Mississippi.
“We should do this before he wakes up,” he eventually says. “As Alivia says, the very beginning is painful.”
He walks across the room, crossing to Eshan’s side. I see then that he was holding a syringe. Like he’s done this before, he uncaps it, pushing out the air bubble. And without one glance in my direction to confirm that this is what I still want to do, he sinks the needle into his arm.