by Keary Taylor
When we roll to a stop in front of it, I almost smile. There are flowers growing in the garden boxes, a cute white rocking chair on the porch. I sense all of Julie’s touches without even setting foot inside.
“Hey, you’re finally getting to see what you’re paying for,” Lexington jokes as we climb out and start up the stairs. “Though I wouldn’t expect Aleah to say thank you. She’s not really the type.”
“She’s from Brooklyn. I wasn’t expecting gratitude,” Alivia counters with snark as she walks up the steps and goes straight inside without knocking.
She knows how to assert herself when there’s a need.
A few new faces greet me, as well as all the old ones. Aleah is already talking with Alivia, getting introductions over with. Aleah is looking none too friendly, Alivia not one bit intimidated by her off-putting attitude.
The lot of us gathered, we head into the living room.
And for a moment, I look around, wondering who here is in charge.
“Thank you all for getting here on such short notice.” Of course it’s Alivia who speaks first. “As I understand it, things have been a little complicated for you all in the past few weeks. And I’m afraid things are going to continue getting more complicated.”
The eyes of the House members I already knew keep drifting down to my belly, looking for the size of it. Lexington already explained all of that to Aleah last night, who was to pass it on to everyone else. They can’t believe what has happened any more than I can.
Alivia takes a breath to continue but stops short when a knock on the door sounds. Lexington turns to get it. Just moments later, five more bodies walk into the room.
“For those from the House of Martials, I’d like to introduce my House members,” Alivia says, her entire face lighting up at the sight of her family. “This is Danny, Pearl, Christian, Juanita, and Smith. They are going with my husband, Elle’s brother, and Michael Savage, to hunt down Charles Allaway.”
“You’re finally going to kill him, huh?” Aleah says, a vicious little smile curling on her lips. “No more fear of starting a war?”
“There’s no one left to start a war with,” Lexington says. “Elle says he’s down to three House members, and he has to know we’re coming after him. He’s going to have to go into hiding. He knows he doesn’t have much time left.”
“There’s no forgiveness for what he’s done,” Ian pipes up, shaking his head. “The King is just about as pissed off with him as we are. I really don’t think he’ll retaliate.”
“No, not now that there’s an heir to eventually take his place,” Duncan says, his eyes once again fixating on my stomach.
There’s a new reverence in all their eyes when they look at me. And I have to remember the importance of what is growing inside of me.
This child is a Royal, after all. A direct descendent of King Cyrus.
“The House of Martials has done an amazing job of stepping up to a task that shouldn’t have been your problem,” Alivia moves on. She stands tall, her chin held high. And her House members stand around her, ever ready to lie down their lives for her if they have to.
The once human girl who knew nothing at all has become a true queen.
“But there is a Hunter in the area now. His entire purpose is to track down the Bitten and any others who aren’t obeying King Cyrus’ law. With the end in sight for Charles Allaway, things are going to change. Things need to be ready to fall into place,” Alivia continues. “Ian and I will be going to meet with this Hunter when we’re done here.”
“This Hunter will think me and my team are volunteering to track down Charles so that we can bring him to the Hunter, who I’m guessing would end up sending him to Roter Himmel for a trial,” Ian pipes up. “When in reality, we are hunting for Charles, but he’s dead the second we find him.”
“While Ian and his team are tracking down Charles and this Hunter is dealing with all the issues you’ve all been trying to keep at bay, we need the House of Martials to step it up.” She looks around, holding everyone captive, hanging on to her every breath.
I’ve wondered before, and I wonder again—how she is not King Cyrus’ long lost wife, Sevan, doomed to die and Resurrect, over and over again?
She speaks as if she has power over all her kind.
“The child Elle carries will one day be the rightful ruler of this area of the country,” Alivia says, stepping forward. “But until that time, I do believe King Cyrus will let the House of Martials do their job, with full Royal benefits and backing. Aleah, Duncan,” she looks at the two of them. “You need to take this time to figure out how to rule as regents. Because I believe very shortly there will be no one else to fill the role.”
Duncan looks at his cousin, but Aleah just stares straight at Alivia. It’s difficult to read her expression. Pride, fear, confidence. She looks maybe more than a little overwhelmed. She’s had fun with her temporary role Lexington charged her with, but this takes things to a whole new level.
Duncan once more looks forward, holding his chin high, and nods once.
The voice of reason in this duo is in.
“The monarchy will be putting a lot of trust in you two,” Alivia continues, studying Aleah and Duncan. “You’ll have a lot of power, for years. But you know that when the time comes, when the Allaway child comes of age, that you’ll have to turn it all over. Cyrus fully honors birthrights, no exceptions. Can you handle it?”
The weight and tension in the room is enough to suffocate us all. Everyone is thinking the same thing: how this life doesn’t play fair. That some of them are Born to exiled grandsons, while others were lucky enough to be descendants of the honored, loyal two.
“I’ve known my entire life that I’m not a Royal,” Duncan says. “I’ve seen what they have to deal with. The pressure and the politics. I think after a few years of it, I’ll be ready to hand it off to someone else.”
Alivia chuckles, and I know she fully gets that way of thinking.
Aleah continues to stare at Alivia for a long moment. And the air grows thicker.
Can she just give away that kind of power when the time comes?
I rub my hands over my stomach. Oh, what pressure and struggles this child will be born to.
Lexington sets his hands on my shoulders, rubbing them, as if sensing the stress that’s creeping into my chest.
“I can do it,” Aleah finally says.
A collective sigh rushes through the room.
Alivia smiles, and nods. “Okay then. You all have your own issues to work through. I will give my support and backing of Aleah and Duncan to this Hunter. Hopefully he’ll trust my word enough to coordinate with you. I think King Cyrus would be pleased with how we’ve handled things ourselves. Now, you’ll have to excuse me. I have a meeting and my own House to get back to.”
Voices erupt as the meeting comes to a close. Alivia makes her way to the front door with Ian, Lexington, and myself following behind her.
“Take it easy,” Alivia pleads to me with her eyes. She stalls in the doorway, as if there is more she thinks she can do.
“I will,” I tell her, even if I’m not entirely sure it’s a promise.
“If you need anything, call me,” Alivia says, her expression pained as she gives me a hug. I wonder what’s suddenly made her so motherly.
I give her one last smile as she and Ian step out the door.
“She really is good at that, isn’t she?” Lexington observes as we watch through the window. Ian borrows his car.
“She was put through enough tests in the beginning. Had everyone question and doubt her,” I tease him. “She’s grown some pretty tough skin.”
“Hey, someone had to help out,” he jokes. Because, in the beginning, Lexington wasn’t always very pleasant to Alivia.
Danny nearly killed him for it early on.
Walking back into the living room, it’s incredibly weird seeing the two groups of people mingling.
Those from my new life, and those from
my old.
“Went and got yourself knocked up by a Royal, huh?” Christian taunts me, walking over to my side.
“Seriously man, don’t even touch it with a ten-foot pole,” Lexington warns him.
“She knows I’m just joking,” he defends, wearing an awkward smile.
“It’s okay,” I say, forcing a little smile of my own and nudging him in the stomach with my elbow just a bit.
“Gotta say though, it’s pretty weird you two wound up together,” Christian continues as he studies the room. “Though, I don’t know, somehow it works.”
Danny watches the room, as if he’s looking for enemies. He’s always been terrifying. Apparently that hasn’t changed in the past few years.
Smith is no different. He sits in a chair, slouched so far down into it he’s nearly lying in it. He watches the members of the House of Martials with hawk-like eyes.
“You really are the ultimate survivor,” Aleah says as she walks up. She eyes Christian up and down, and he returns her gaze with a smile and a quick nod of his head. He always was a womanizer. “I keep thinking one of these days you’re just going to break like a porcelain doll, but you always seem to bounce back.”
“Nice to see you too, Aleah,” I say, never once looking away from her penetrating gaze.
“I really am glad you’re alive,” Duncan says, wrapping his arms around me in an embrace. “Should have known you were too tough to go down that easy.”
It’s a little comical, calling me tough, when I am the only human in a house that currently has fourteen vampires in it.
“Who are the new people?” Lexington asks, nodding toward the unfamiliar faces.
“That’s Valentina Perez,” Duncan says, pointing toward a woman with a massive mane of curly hair that extends midway down her back. She’s so beautiful that she’s nearly radiant, and looks to be in her mid-forties. “That’s Casey Young.” She looks to be in her late twenties, small and fragile looking, with incredibly pale skin and brown hair. “And Po-Sun. I think that’s his last name, but no one can pronounce his first name.” If I had to guess, I’d say he’s Korean. He’s dressed in nice slacks, a button-up shirt, and a tie. His flawless skin and well-kept hair make for quite an attractive man.
“It’s a good start,” I say, looking around at the faces that will be the support and legs for the House that the child within me will one day rule.
There are loyalties to be won here, games to play, and the child inside of me doesn’t even have a name yet.
“I’ll check in every night,” Ian says as he packs up the last of his supplies. Stakes, guns, the old go-tos. I wish I had some toxins or acids to send with him, but Charles took the last of my stash. “You better answer the phone, every time I call, or you know I’ll be here instantly, knocking down your door.”
“I know,” I say, because I’m sick of arguing with him.
Brothers.
I grab Shada as she darts through the room, cuddling her into my chest. I look around my living room and marvel at the mess it has become. Bags are scattered everywhere. Knives, guns, boxes of bullets. All kinds of weapons are strewn here and there, collected from all over the city throughout the day.
Ian’s team keeps themselves busy packing and preparing for departure.
“Wish I could see this supposed curse in action,” my brother says as he finally finishes packing his bag and stands. He pushes his hands into his back pockets and stands in front of me. “When it comes to these things, they’re always a little hard to believe.”
“I saw it,” I say, recalling the way Charles’ body seemed to instantly start desiccating when he tried coming too close. “I’ll be safe from him.”
Ian gives a little unsatisfied grunt. But he just looks back at his team, and sees that they’re wrapping up their own packing. Smith hands Ian a bag, who then extends it to Lexington. “Just in case, though.”
He gives a little nod of his own, and I see his eyes darken.
I wouldn’t call Lexington a natural born fighter. It’s not really his nature to stab and shoot. But I’ve seen him in action enough times to know he still shouldn’t be messed with.
“We should get going,” Danny says in that graveyard voice of his. He slings his bag over his shoulder and waits by the door.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice a little too quiet, because I’m more than just a little humbled and intimidated right now. Shada hisses and I set her down. She immediately races for the stairs. “Really. I appreciate what you all are doing for me.”
Christian winks at me and Smith offers a scary little smile. Pearl and Juanita, who I don’t know at all, don’t give any kind of acknowledgement. One by one, they each file out the door.
“I think you already know the rest of the speech I want to give you,” Ian says as he closes the space between us and folds me into his arms.
“I do,” I breathe against his chest. “I’ll be okay.”
He squeezes me a little tighter before releasing me. He shakes hands with Lexington before pulling him into a classic, quick, man hug. “Take care of her.”
“I will,” Lexington says as we walk Ian to the door.
“Be safe,” I say quietly as I wave goodbye and my brother walks away.
I close the door behind me, and lean against it. My eyes rise up to the ceiling and suddenly all of my energy leaves my body.
“Come on,” Lexington says, tucking his head under my arm, and pulling it across his shoulders. He presses a kiss to my temple. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Dirt covers my hands, smeared up to my elbows. Five buckets line the edge of the rooftop, full of weeds. Dozens of tools are scattered around, bags of soil that Lexington hauled from the car up all these stairs are lying here and there. New bags of seeds lie empty and blown into the corner by the breeze.
My garden has suffered greatly from my neglect this spring. It’s two weeks into June and it should be getting to full glory, but instead it’s dry and overgrown with weeds. The annual plants may not have enough time to grow in now, and I’m counting in my head how many of my creations will have to wait until next year to be made, due to lack of the right ingredients.
I’m trying very hard to compartmentalize right now, sectioning these racing thoughts of mine into manageable portions. But it’s hard. That’s just not my personality.
I’m thinking of everything while trying to pretend that I’m not.
“You sure you don’t want some help?” Lexington asks.
I shake my head, brushing some hair out of my face with a dirty hand. “You’ll probably end up poisoning yourself because you don’t know what not to touch.”
“Okay,” he says, and his tone tells me I was a little harsher than I should have been.
He sits in a patio chair, his feet propped up on the edge of the roof. He’s reading one of the dozen pregnancy books he did, indeed, order.
I huff, climbing to my feet so I can move onto the next garden box, only it’s getting harder to move around with my eighteen-week belly. I feel Lexington’s eyes protectively watching me, but pretend there’s nothing he needs to watch.
Only when I kneel down beside the next box, I wince as a sharp pain cuts through my left side.
“Hey,” he breathes, instantly at my side. He takes my hand and gently guides me to the ground to sit. “Take it easy. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Are you an obstetrician now?” I wince as I press my hand into my side, trying to ease the pain.
“No, but I’m thinking we do actually need to find one in the next week or so,” he says as he kneels in front of me, staring at my body, and I know he’s listening for my heart, and probably the baby’s, searching for signs of stress. “The books all say you’re supposed to be getting checked out every month. I figure it’s been a week and a half since you got home, it was five days before that when you escaped, so that means you’re due for another checkup in fifteen days.”
A little laugh bubbles up from my chest. A smile grows on my
lips as I look up at his face. And he’s so serious and so focused and intense, that for a moment, I’m reminded that he’s dealing with this unexpected pregnancy, too.
I reach a hand up and rest it against his cheek. I let out a little sigh. “Thank you,” I say. My heart swells, reminding me how lucky I am to have him.
He leans forward and kisses me, grounding me once more when I was starting to float off.
My heart starts pounding as we walk up Charles Street, and I wonder if I’ll ever feel truly comfortable with the name again. I pass the bakery. The boutique clothing shops. So much money in such an old and beautiful part of town. Beacon Hill has to be one of the most amazing neighborhoods in all of America.
As we near the end of the street, the sign comes into view, hanging there in the air like an old friend.
Oleander Apothecary.
I feel Lexington’s eyes on me and turn to see him smiling.
I pull my keys from my pocket and slide them into the lock. My eyes well slightly as I take in the sign on the front door in my own handwriting. CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. Placed there over five months ago.
The familiar scent of spices and age engulf me as I step inside. The old wooden shelves, filled with product, all made by my own hands. The checkout counter is covered in dust, but the moment I tap the screen of the cash register, it jumps to life.
“You paid the lease while I was gone?” I say, looking up at Lexington, amazed that all of my things are still here, just waiting for me to come home.
Lexington nods, a little smile on his face. “You love this place. I wanted to make sure it would still be here when you came back.”
I step forward, pressing an appreciative kiss to his lips.
He couldn’t have really known that I would come back. But it’s everything that he never gave up hope, even after months.
I head into the lab and flip the light on.
As I expected, the space is a mess.
Lexington swears. “Who… When…?”