by Eva Brandt
I didn’t know if I was relieved or not when the door opened once again, and Prince Darius joined me in the back of the limo. I was still trying to make sense of my confused thoughts. I wanted to ask if Guardian Whelan would be punished for my stupidity, but knowing my luck, the inquiry would piss off the prince further. I had to follow orders and remain silent, which grated on me even more.
The car started without Darius having to say anything. I decided mimicking him was the best approach. I stared at my own clenched fists, trembling, hating the fact that I had been reduced to this meek creature so easily, but unable to control the panic coursing through me.
The awkward silence didn’t last for too long, as Prince Darius cleared his throat in a clear attempt to draw my attention to him. “Ms. Hastings,” he said, “I apologize for the unpleasantness outside. Believe it or not, it was not my intention to frighten you. But you placed me in a rather unfortunate position, and there was no other way. Now that we are in private, you are free to speak your mind and ask any questions you might have.”
The offer was reassuring, but he didn’t sound like he meant it. If anything, his voice held no tonality at all, to the point that I felt he simply didn’t care one way or another if I asked or not.
But I supposed that if Darius had wanted to kill me, he wouldn’t have bothered to attempt to comfort me. Both my protector and I were at his mercy, so why pretend at all if he didn’t have good intentions in some way?
“I do indeed have a lot of questions, Your Highness,” I tentatively replied, forcing myself to steal a look at him. The prince didn’t seem upset that I had spoken, so I dared to continue. “So many things have been happening that don’t make any sense. This whole attack and my participation in it. That man, Guardian Whelan. I don’t understand him either, although I feel like I should. And then there’s you and your group, your purpose, your behavior. It’s all so strange.” I took a deep breath, braving Prince Darius’s cold eyes as I attempted to control the flurry of maddening emotions that had led me to this predicament to begin with. “Above all else, Your Highness, I don’t understand your actions. I realize that I might have offended you through my conduct, especially considering your station, but why would you... Why would you hurt him because of me? It just... It makes no sense.”
“I don’t usually attack my subordinates if that’s what you’re asking, Ms. Hastings, but Guardian Whelan’s situation is complicated. It was already complicated before you and I even spoke one word to each other. But that doesn’t help you much, does it? Tell me something. Do you believe in soulmates?”
“Soulmates?” I blinked stupidly at Prince Darius. What kind of question was that and why were my romantic beliefs relevant in this conversation? “I... I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Ah, yes. I suppose you wouldn’t.” The prince pressed a button, and a small bar emerged from the partition between us and the driver’s part of the vehicle. “But perhaps you’ve heard of the legend regardless. The one that speaks of how two humans were once a single being but were separated by the gods in an attempt to weaken them.”
Now that the prince mentioned it, I did remember something like that. I’d read about it when I had been younger, and I’d spent quite some time trying to puzzle out how the creatures the Greek philosophers had envisioned would’ve actually looked like. Of course, the tale I’d read had been a satire, but I had liked the message regardless, the idea that there was someone out there for everybody, someone who was a perfect fit for me.
I’d become far more jaded since then, and I no longer believed in such fairytales. However, since the prince had asked, I had no choice but to play along. “I’m familiar with the story, yes.”
“Wonderful,” the prince said as he poured two glasses of a liquid that smelled like wine but had the consistency of chocolate syrup. “Well, the story in question is, for the most part, real. As you can probably imagine, the actual details are quite different. The full truth of what happened then is something that has been lost even to us. But that is beside the point since it doesn’t have much influence on the topic of our discussion.”
If Darius’s wicked plan was to kill me through sheer confusion, he was well on his way to succeeding. Why mention the whole soulmate thing at all if it was “beside the point”? I took the glass when it was shoved in my hand and said nothing, hoping Darius would elaborate.
I was not disappointed. “You see, Ms. Hastings, soulmates do exist, and they are bound together through a connection stronger, deeper and truer than anything else,” the prince continued. “However, while in theory, this is very nice, sweet and romantic, in reality, there is a side-effect to it that most humans would not even dream of.
“Because of the way the bond was originally formed, soulmates are known to be able to share skills and strengths. This was a method that was utilized heavily in the past. It is also what led to what we perceive as the biggest disaster in the history of mankind.”
I did not like the sound of that. I took a sip of my drink and was gratified to note that it chased away the lingering chill in my bones.
“Centuries ago, the king and queen of a distant land had a child, a beautiful daughter. I will not utter their names, as it is forbidden, but I can say that they named their daughter Dahud, and they loved her dearly. So far, nothing remarkable, correct? Most parents love their children. Or so I hear.
“The problem came when young Dahud fell ill. They attempted to use every type of medicine and method of healing that existed at that time. And when that didn’t work, they turned to magic. Very dark magic.
“To cut the explanation short, these two misguided parents cast an enchantment that allowed Dahud to absorb the life force of her soul mate, despite the fact that the two had not even met and she was only a baby at the time. The spell worked perfectly, better than expected, in fact. Dahud’s life was saved, and she was also granted new abilities. She was faster, stronger, smarter. When she grew up, she became capable of defeating some of her father’s stronger warriors with ease, despite being a woman. Her magic was more powerful than any other’s. She was practically immortal.
“All these gifts, however, came at a dire cost. Not only was Dahud’s soulmate killed, but the amputation of their connection through dark magic permanently crippled her ability to feel.”
The latter sentence surprised me so much I nearly dumped the glass in my lap. “Wait, what? You mean... Like psychopathy? That’s horrible.”
“Something like that, except a lot more drastic. And I’m afraid that the true horror only starts from here.
“Do you know why psychopaths are so dangerous, Ms. Hastings? It is because they want to feel. That is why the soul exists, to experience emotion. For most beings, humans included, it is easy, as natural as drawing breath. But in certain types of creatures, this ability is stunted, usually because of some kind of damage to the psyche or the nervous system. And so, we are left with people who cannot feel love or friendship, but who still seek to experience emotion in their own way and can often only derive pleasure through extreme actions, such as murder.
“That brings us back to Dahud. Unlike the mentally ill people I mentioned, she was unable to feel anything at all. Once she realized what had happened, she dedicated her life to fixing herself. The only solution she found to her predicament was encouraging the rebirth of her soulmate. She believed that if her other half’s soul returned once more to the world, she could give back the power she had been forced to steal, and they would be able to have what they should’ve always had.”
That made sense. But how did a person encourage the rebirth of one’s soulmate? That sounded very sketchy to me.
“To this end, she set out to have as many children as possible, with a variety of men she recruited for this specific purpose. Whenever the child was conceived, she would transfer part of her personal life essence into him or her.”
What. The. Fuck.
I set my wine aside, deciding that it wa
s probably a good idea to prevent getting intoxicated on top of everything else. “But that doesn’t make any sense,” I said. “Why would she want to do that? If the soulmate was supposed to be reborn, wouldn’t that have happened without Dahud’s intervention?” And without her, presumably, making preparations for the incestuous love affair of the ages.
“Yes and no. You see, Dahud hypothesized that the transfer of her magic into the bodies of the host children would encourage her mate’s soul to return and take its rightful place by her side. Her plan was, in theory, correct, but unfortunately, it backfired.
“At the time, Dahud didn’t fully understand the full extent of the dark magic that had been used on her. She was cursed, so nothing she could have ever done, no matter how drastic, would have returned her soulmate to her. Therefore, her mate’s soul remained lost to her. But Dahud refused to give up and continued in her quest until she could not do it any longer. Between the strain of childbirth and the rituals she was doing to imbue the children with her magic, she became utterly spent. It is said to be the reason why she ultimately died. Even someone with her extraordinary skills could not withstand so many strenuous rituals and survive it.”
That was so sad. I could not imagine a more horrible fate than being stuck in a constant circle of desperate yearning, seeking something so intangible without any hope of ever accomplishing that goal. The only possible comparison that came to mind was a man stumbling through the desert, eternally struggling against thirst and hunger while the colors of the desert spurred him on to keep looking for water.
What had kept Dahud going? What had her children meant for her? What thoughts had crossed her mind as she lay dying, still unable to feel?
“I see her fate troubles you,” Darius said. “Do not worry about it now. You are better off worrying about yourself.”
Right. The whole reason why we had started this conversation, to begin with, was because I had asked for an explanation on what the hell was going on. Dahud’s fate was sad and all, but knowing about it didn’t really help me in any way.
“I imagine something that Dahud did must be connected to what happened here?” I guessed. I could see no other reason why Darius would have mentioned it.
“Yes. As I said before, Dahud’s attempt to resurrect her soulmate backfired. It also had a secondary side-effect. The rituals she performed, which she used to transfer her magic to her heirs, guaranteed that her curse was passed onto said children. Every single child she bore suffered from the same condition. And through it, through her actions and those of the people who followed her, we were born as a species. We call ourselves the Accursed.”
* * *
Declan
I sat in the back of the prisoner transport, staring at my cuffed arms in a daze. I had not intended for this to happen, but it appeared my actions had affected Lucienne more than I had thought. I couldn’t imagine what had possessed her to rush up to Prince Darius that way, but I suspected that, much like Lucienne’s presence here, it had to be in some way related to my stupidity and rashness.
There were so many things about this whole situation that frightened me and didn’t make sense. How had Lucienne ended up here? Did she live nearby or was there something more insidious at work? What did she truly remember? Was she still safe after what she had done?
Prince Darius had only given me a vague promise, and while normally, I would not have doubted it, these were in no way normal circumstances. Would my superiors help her after the earlier episode? What would they make of her second run-in with the scavengers? Would they perhaps believe that she was involved with them in some way?
I didn’t know, and that scared me.
It was the sworn oath of all Alarians to protect humans, but there were exceptions to every rule. If a human found out about our world and turned out to be a threat, he or she was removed. I hadn’t paid much heed to the policy before, because frankly, it had made sense, like most things the Pures did. At the time, though, it had not occurred to me that the rule might endanger my soulmate.
On the other hand, Prince Darius had taken the whole thing in stride, and that was encouraging. Thank the gods she had not actually touched his skin. I could not imagine what kind of disaster would’ve followed if that had occurred.
I was so distracted by my thoughts that I completely missed the moment Cyrus joined me in the back of the van. I only realized he was present when he cleared his throat and addressed me. “Guardian Whelan, be at ease. We’ll respect the Dictate, you know that.”
I had no idea why Cyrus would attempt to reassure me, but it didn’t work. “I’d be more inclined to believe that if you hadn’t pointed your sword at Lucienne.”
“Ms. Hastings slighted Prince Darius,” Cyrus answered. “I was merely defending him. But since His Highness did not deem it an issue, she is perfectly safe.”
The words didn’t surprise me. Ironically, I understood why Cyrus had acted the way he had. That didn’t mean I felt any better about it or more inclined to believe Cyrus’s statement. As much as I acknowledged the necessity to respect royalty, I could not forgive and forget. Cyrus could easily shake off the incident, even if being so easily disarmed by a guardian was humiliating. I was not built that way. In everything I’d ever done, I’d been guided by my emotions, by my yearning and desire to protect the mate I would never have. My wolf had deemed Cyrus a tentative part of my pack, and he had threatened Lucienne’s life. It was a betrayal I could not set aside.
I also could not turn Cyrus away, since outright hostility would not earn me any favors with my superiors right now. Did Cyrus know anything else about Lucienne? Would he tell me if I asked? Maybe. He had never been all that accepting of guardians, but he didn’t dislike us either, and if he hadn’t explicitly been ordered to stay silent on a topic, he might be able to provide me with more information.
As the driver started the van, I met Cyrus’s cold eyes and inquired, “Enforcer Diaz, do you know what happened to her? To Lucienne?”
Much to my dismay, Cyrus shook his head. “I’m afraid I do not know much more than you do. Prince Darius mentioned that he would take her somewhere, but he did not reveal the location. He seemed to intend to head to the Palasion, but that is only a guess on my part.”
That didn’t help me much since it didn’t tell me anything about Prince Darius’s plans. It also left me at a complete loss on what to do.
At the back of my mind, my wolf stirred in increasing panic. I strained against the cuffs, making the silver painfully dig into my skin. In a way, the burn helped, since it kept me from completely losing control of my beast.
Could I even trust Darius to keep his word? Of course not. I might have made a mistake in trying to grant her my skills, but in the end, he had been the one who had hurt her. The mind blur must’ve been the cause of her pain and confusion. How could I rely on him to fix what he had broken, if he did not care about her well-being one way or another?
And then, there was my partner. I wanted to ask Cyrus what had happened to Malachai, but that would’ve been more than a little rash. There was no telling how the enforcer would use anything I dared to say. Besides, whatever response Cyrus could have provided would likely not give me any information beyond what I already knew. Malachai had committed a serious crime by failing to inform our superiors of my actions, and he would have to pay the price. That was Alarian law.
If I didn’t do something, quickly, the two people I cared about most in the world could be seriously hurt. How could I help them? Surely, there had to be something, some kind of method I could still use to keep them safe. My life would end soon, but there was no reason for Malachai and Lucienne to suffer in the aftermath. They both deserved so much better than this.
Could I take Malachai’s punishment onto me before I died? It would be a challenge, but it was worth a shot. I could discuss it with the inquisitors, at least. And if I pointed out that I was the one at fault in the whole debacle, the Alarians were unlikely to turn on Lucienne. They would j
ump at the chance to blame me so that they wouldn’t have to place any responsibility on a human.
As plans went, it wasn’t much, but it would at least allow me to make something of what little I had left, and it was better than relying on Prince Darius.
It also failed to take into account a very simple fact, the utter efficiency of the Alarian legal system. As soon as we reached the Palasion, it became obvious that I would not be treated like a regular prisoner, and that the difference would be in no way in my favor.
As a rule, prisoners went through a certain process when they were transferred from the transports, into cells. I had participated in it countless times, which was why I had assumed that maybe I could use it to my benefit.
I was not given the chance. Cyrus ushered me out of the van himself, but instead of guiding me to the inquisitorial chambers, he veered me straight toward the cell block.
In hindsight, that made sense, since Prince Darius had already seen everything he had needed to know in my mind. But I had still stupidly hoped that maybe I could talk to another authority figure. My situation must have been even more dire than I had thought, as the cardinal had deemed the pre-trial questioning unnecessary.
To make matters worse, a familiar figure was waiting for me in the cell block. Malachai had already been taken in and imprisoned in one of the units designed for vampires. I had expected it, but that didn’t mean a small part of me hadn’t hoped that he would be spared this pain. Malachai said nothing as I went through the same treatment and was secured in a werewolf cell. I wondered if he regretted having covered for me after the episode in the club.
“Your trial will most likely occur within the next couple of hours,” Cyrus said as he attached a chain to my cuffed hands. “Don’t cause any trouble.”