by Eva Brandt
I left the limo just in time to see Enforcer Ayers kneel in front of Darius and kiss his gloved hand. “Yes, Your Highness.”
This plan contradicted Darius’s earlier command, but even if I’d wanted to point that out, I wouldn’t have had the chance to do it. No sooner had Enforcer Ayers gotten up from her submissive stance than the prince walked away, followed by several of his subordinates, all of whom I now realized were immaculately dressed.
I supposed it made sense that I would not be allowed to “stick with” the prince in my current state, covered in grime, sweat and even some dried blood. It was a minor miracle Darius had allowed me in his car. How did these people stay so clean while they were out fighting evil cannibalistic monsters? Yet another question that needed to be addressed at a later date.
For the moment, I went along with what the prince had indirectly told me to do, and to give Enforcer Ayers credit, she did make things easier for me. She displayed none of her previous forcefulness when she guided me to a room so large it could’ve easily been part of the Garniers’ ostentatious mansion. Her demeanor was perfectly professional and polite when she provided me with toiletries and a change of clothes. She bowed after she handed me the items in question, although, of course, not in the same way she had in front of the prince. “If there is anything else you require, please feel free to ask.”
What I required was for these people to start acting like they had some sense, but that didn’t seem likely anytime soon. I wouldn’t have been myself if I hadn’t displayed some degree of pettiness, so I smiled tightly and replied, “No. You’ve done quite enough.”
I then proceeded to usher her out—without touching her, because I now knew better—and slammed the door in her face. It was satisfying and I hoped it would help me control my temper later, when I had to face Darius and the rest of the Accursed who would be trying Declan.
Declan. Declan Whelan. That was the name of my protector, of the man who had dedicated his life to keeping me safe, even at a time when I had not known him. Darius and I might not have discussed it in detail, but I could read well enough between the lines, and I sensed that Declan had done more for me than I would’ve ever dared to ask or hope for.
But that was just it. I hadn’t asked for any of this. I hadn’t asked to be kept safe from this mysterious curse Darius had mentioned. I might have, had I known it existed, but not if it came at such a dire price.
If these people respected humans, shouldn’t they have found some other way to keep them safe, a method that would not involve them being repeatedly brainwashed? If Declan had wanted me to have a normal life—which he presumably did—shouldn’t he have acknowledged my right to decide for myself, instead of just telling me to obey the rules? Was I being unreasonable for thinking these things, when Darius had made it clear that everything his people did was for a reason?
I was still musing over this even after I finished showering and got dressed in the clothes Enforcer Ayers had brought me. It felt nice to be clean, and yet as I stared at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but wonder what Darius’s people really saw humans as. Interesting, cute pets? An inferior species they were duty-bound to? Certainly not equals, that was for sure.
Declan hadn’t placed his life on the line for me as a person, as an individual. He had done it for a principle and for his image of me. We didn’t love each other, because how could we? We’d exchanged a grand total of three phrases, and while I could admit that the sexual attraction was there, it certainly had not existed when Declan had become a guardian.
Oh, for heavens’ sake. This was stupid. Declan’s misguided feelings were beside the point. I was supposed to be focusing on keeping the werewolf alive. Regardless of the strangeness of our relationship, I could not stomach the idea that Declan would die in such a useless, senseless way, or at all, for that matter. Soulmate or not, Declan was a good, honorable man. He deserved to live and to be happy, and I couldn’t just sit there and whine about my own doubts while someone else decided Declan’s fate to presumably avenge me.
“Ugh,” I groaned, slumping on the massive four-poster bed. “I wish there were something I could do. Something more than just relying on Darius.”
“There is, and you can.”
The sudden words echoed through the room like a gunshot. I opened my eyes—when had I even closed them?—and rolled off the bed, ready to defend myself. I expected to find one of the Accursed hovering nearby, perhaps trying to attack me. I had known that they couldn’t be trusted. In his own psychopathic way, Prince Darius had been a little too nice.
The room was completely empty, leaving me to look around in confusion and irritation. “What? Who said that?”
“A friend,” the same voice that had spoken before replied. Of course, there was still no one there to provide me with a logical source for the sound.
Wonderful. Now I was hearing things. Had I completely lost my mind? Was this an elaborate hallucination after all?
“Considering what you’ve seen so far, is telepathy so difficult for you to accept?” the mysterious friend asked. “Such a double standard. How disappointing.”
“Well excuse me if I’m trying to take at least some of the things that are happening to me with a grain of salt.”
“Feel free to do so. However, keep in mind that every single moment you spend arguing with me is a moment you could’ve used to save your soulmate.”
That was a low blow. “You know, this is getting a little old,” I said snappishly. “I didn’t ask to be dropped into this insane reality in which people are killing one another for making contact with a human being. I didn’t ask for a soulmate either.”
I knew the latter statement sounded childish, and I regretted it almost as soon as it left my mouth, but I was tired and angry, damn it, and this wasn’t fucking fair.
“Well, you might not have him for much longer if you don’t get off your ass and do something about it,” the voice told me. “Prince Darius will try to help you, but it won’t be enough.”
“All right then.” I let out a low breath, forcing myself to calm down. It was dumb to take advice from a random voice in my head, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “Assuming I believe you, that I believe all of this... What can I do to save Declan?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
* * *
Darius
This was a disaster of epic proportions. If things had been worse, I would’ve deemed it another curse, meant to exacerbate the effects of the original one.
My conversation with Lucienne had gone about as well as could be expected. I had lied to her through my teeth and I’d continue to lie so that she would never find out about my unavoidable fate. It was already bad enough that she had to handle the situation with Declan Whelan, a problem I was unsure I could actually solve. But my lies would not help me handle my own truth, which was the fact that I wasn’t dealing with the results of our interaction very well.
It certainly did not help that my family and the rest of our inner circle were proving to be an obstacle to my self-appointed task. “Why are we even having this conversation?” Cardinal Vaughn asked. “The werewolf guardian should be put to death at once. The Soulmate Protection Dictate is clear. Any contact with one’s soulmate is a crime punishable by death.”
Yes, old man, we all know that, I thought, suppressing the urge to snap at him. There’s no reason to point out the obvious.
I might have actually done something violent, but a pulse of pain shot through my chest, and it distracted me long enough to keep me from following my original impulse. High King help me, I hoped that I’d least be able to go through this meeting without displaying any weakness. If my parents caught sight of my condition, they’d instantly realize something was not right.
The gods must’ve smiled upon me because the pain faded and my head felt a little less fuzzy. As soon as I was able to think properly again, I tried to reason with Cardinal Vaughn. “We are having this conversation be
cause we are not certain what the werewolf did to cause Lucienne Hastings to end up in the middle of our confrontation with the scavengers.”
My mother frowned, tapping her lower lip with her index finger. “Could they have communicated in some way without us knowing it? I believe it is possible, between two soul-bonded.”
“That could definitely explain it,” my father answered. “And if that is the case, I must agree with Cardinal Vaughn. We should proceed with the execution at once.”
I wanted to scream at their absurdity. I could understand their desire to follow the law of the High King as much as any Alarian, but still, we could not use the death penalty as a universal solution. “There is only one problem with that theory. It seems unlikely at best that Lucienne Hastings would’ve had the time to get from her apartment to the location of the conflict before we ourselves got there, using only the information Guardian Whelan had at his disposal. Guardian Whelan himself couldn’t have known where to tell her to go since he was only following his senses. And there is the matter of her overcoming the mind blur.”
“What exactly are you suggesting, Darius?” my father asked.
“I’m not suggesting anything,” I replied. “I just think the situation is worth studying. At the very least, I find it interesting that Ms. Hastings survived two encounters with scavengers, when we know for a fact that Guardian Whelan touched her and can thus assume that the curse was triggered.”
“You have a point, Your Highness,” Cardinal Vaughn said, “but it’s only been a day since the attack at the club. The effects of the curse start to manifest after a month.”
“I know that, Cardinal, but the regular rule involves the disease, not the Anomaly. Surely you remember that if cursed individuals face a life-threatening situation, they’re far more likely to die than they are to be miraculously rescued. And yet, Guardian Whelan rescued Lucienne Hastings on two separate occasions.”
“You cannot possibly be suggesting that they’ve managed to circumvent the curse, Your Highness,” Earl Wagner replied. “That is impossible.”
“I am aware. But we already know that magic changes all the time. That is how our species appeared. It would not be so surprising if the curse itself were able to mutate as well.”
I’d given Lucienne the same excuse, but truth be told, I didn’t know if I believed any of it. The facts I was working with refused to add up to a logical conclusion and I couldn’t reveal all of them because the implications might lead my family to finish the job the enchantment had failed to complete.
Then again, considering the pain I’d been in for the past ten minutes or so, that might not be an issue soon, and I wouldn’t have to worry about this whole thing for much longer.
It took everything in my power to leash my emotions and not give myself away in front of the Pure Council. I needed to get a grip and make sure Lucienne emerged unscathed from this whole mess. Until that happened, the Alarian Vow could go fuck itself. I’d die when I was good and ready, not before.
“We cannot afford to make rash mistakes, my lords and ladies,” I said, clenching my fists under the table. “I believe that the High King himself would frown upon such an action. We need to think logically about this, and logic states that this incident is something that needs to be properly investigated.”
“I agree with Darius,” my mother said. “This is not a classic case of a fallen guardian disregarding his duties. We have to prioritize the well-being of all humans, not just one. Lucienne Hastings’ unique interactions with Guardian Whelan do seem suspicious. If she is a threat, we have to know and deal with it.”
No! That wasn’t where I was going with this at all. Would they now draw a stupid conclusion and start theorizing that Lucienne was in some way involved with the scavengers? I needed to stop that, at all costs.
“I do not think Ms. Hastings is a factor of concern. I’ve discussed the issue with her and scanned her mind. She genuinely did not know anything about the Accursed prior to the incident at the club.”
“So if it’s not her... Could the werewolf have done something?” Countess Christensen hummed thoughtfully. “I always thought it was very unusual for him to leave his Banished brethren. It is unheard of for a werewolf to do such a thing.”
Earl Wagner nodded. “This whole issue started when we agreed to work with the Banished. While we cannot argue with the results and we can only rejoice that so many innocents have been saved, we have to consider the possibility that the Banished had ulterior motives.”
Why was I not surprised that this was turning into a political matter and another way for the upper crust of the nobility to point out how inferior the Banished were? I didn’t necessarily disagree with them, not in that respect, at least, but I highly doubted a pack of werewolves with next to no access to magic could have affected the Alarian Vow.
“In any case, it is safe to say that Guardian Whelan cannot be trusted,” Cardinal Vaughn declared. “His partner is in the same situation.”
“We will handle the vampire as soon as we conduct the trial on Declan Whelan,” my father answered. “I will take into account the matter of the possibly mutated curse. We will get to the bottom of this, and we will not allow traitors in our ranks.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, knowing I could not say or do anything more. My father had made his decision. I could only hope Declan would not act too rashly at the trial, and I’d still be able to intervene in some way at a later date.
My father dismissed the meeting shortly after, and as much as I hated the conclusion he had reached, I was also relieved that I wouldn’t have to endure this ordeal for much longer. My determination to keep my pain from showing would not help me forever, and if I started coughing blood in the middle of the council room, I would certainly not be able to hide it.
Of course, it then turned out that my father wanted to talk to me in private. When the Council drifted out of the room, he gestured for me to stay behind. I swallowed around the knot in my throat but obeyed. “Is there something else on your mind, Father?”
“There is a lot on my mind,” he answered, “but for the moment, I’d like you to tell me your true opinion. What do you actually make of all this?”
He had noticed something was wrong. Gods be damned, couldn’t I get a break, at least for a little while?
A good excuse. I needed a good excuse.
The memory of the pentagram in the warehouse popped in my mind. I hadn’t gotten the chance to discuss it with my father properly, although I had sent some inquisitors to look into it earlier. I could use what little information I had at my disposal to derail my father’s attention.
“I believe that perhaps we might be missing something very important. It’s always been our way to dismiss the potential value of the Banished, but in this instance, that policy might be an obstacle that might keep us from handling the real threat. During today’s mission, I took note of some truly dark rituals taking place. If the scavengers are changing their modus operandi, we might have a bigger problem on our hands than one fallen guardian.”
That much was true, although I didn’t actually think their magic had anything to do with my survival. Then again, I could be wrong. My judgment had stopped being crystal clear the moment I had made contact with Lucienne. I found it somewhat shocking that I hadn’t gotten anyone killed until now.
“With your permission, Father, I would like to revisit the reports from my subordinates,” I continued, still doing my best to hide my condition. “There is still much we can learn from all of this.”
I wasn’t completely out of luck, and my father didn’t question me further. “Yes, of course, Darius. Go on. I will send one of the paladins to notify you when it is time for the trial.”
“Thank you, Father,” I said with a formal bow. “Praised be the High King.”
“With honor, we move forward,” he automatically replied.
I walked out of the council room affecting a calm I did not feel. Just a little further. I just needed to
get to my office and everything would be all right. Maybe. Possibly. I could not give up now, not when my soulmate still needed me.
“Does she really?” a dark voice whispered at the back of my mind. “You must realize that you are putting her at risk as much as Guardian Whelan is. The Alarian Vow exists for a reason. You are just making hypocritical excuses because you don’t want to die.”
Was that true? I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything anymore. Maybe it wasn’t about living or dying, at all. Maybe I just wasn’t ready to give up, not when I could finally feel.
As the selfish thought processed, another shock of pain pulsed through me. I hissed and stumbled, but managed to right myself before I could fall. I leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling and trying to catch my breath.
What a fucking disaster. I didn’t want to give up on life, but I did? Who even understood that? Things had been so much easier before I’d met Lucienne, but had they been better?
Being Alarian amounted to having a mental disorder. I’d always intellectually been aware of that, but I had embraced it. Now that it was gone, how could I deal with a world that had changed overnight?
I loved my parents, didn’t I?
I cared about my subordinates, didn’t I?
How could I tell? How did people ever understand what they actually felt? How did they deal with their anger, their grief, and their unrequited affections? It seemed like an insurmountable obstacle, as no matter how hard I tried to suppress my emotions, they always unavoidably resurfaced, like a boomerang.
High King help me, it hurt so much. Why did caring hurt so much?
I slid to the floor, my knees no longer able to keep me upright. My resolve was faltering already. Where had all my determination gone? When had the fight drained out of me?
Lucienne. I had to think about Lucienne. I had promised her to help her soulmate, the one soulmate she knew she had. I could not fail her. I wanted to... I wanted to make her happy, to see her smile, to keep her from the fear and pain I had unknowingly inflicted upon her.