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House of Judges (House of Royals Book 4)

Page 13

by Keary Taylor


  Ian must sense my rising emotions because he steps just a little closer. I hold up a hand, silently telling him to back away.

  “And you, my King,” I say. Miraculously, my voice does not quiver as it feels it wants to. “Your legend certainly does not do you justice.”

  Ian gathers a breath to speak, but I turn and meet his eyes with an icy warning. “Get in the car,” I say through clenched teeth. We are down to the final moments of danger. I can’t have him going and messing our departure up now.

  The fight in his eyes is there, but he seems to sense how close we are now, too. Without a word, he slips into one of the cars.

  “While it’s been fun, these past two and a half months, marauding around with you and yours, I do hope it is some time before we have to have another face to face,” Cyrus follows me as I walk toward the cars.

  “You’ve certainly taught me a lot about myself,” I say as I stop, my hand atop the door to the vehicle. I’m so close. “About what it means to be a Conrath.”

  At my family name, Cyrus’ eyes darken. “Hmm,” he muses. “Rath’s revelation certainly was interesting. And the timing was impeccable.”

  Something cold drops into my veins. “What do you mean?”

  The smile quirks in the corner of his mouth. “Only that if a measly Bitten hadn’t ended him, I would have killed the traitorous bastard myself.”

  “What-” I begin to question, my heart racing, but a hand reaches out from the car behind me and pulls me inside.

  “He’s just messing with you,” Ian hisses.

  My eyes wide and wild, I look back out at Cyrus. He bends down, looking inside. “I suppose you never know when it comes to me.” He winks, smiling that wretched smile, and closes the door to the car.

  “What…” I reel as the car rolls forward. “What did he mean by that?”

  “I wouldn’t think too deeply on it,” Ian says, looking out the back window as we drive through the massive gates and across the bridge. “The torture of Alivia Ryan seems to be his new favorite game. He was just getting one last little jab in. Let it go.”

  “Where’s Rath?” I ask, feeling frantic. “I need to see if he knows what Cyrus meant.”

  “He left just after your trial,” Markov says, and it’s the first I’ve realized he’s also in the vehicle.

  “Let it go, Liv,” Ian begs. He takes one of my hands in his, rubbing firm circles into my skin. “You’re free. We’re going back home. Just let it go.”

  “Let it go,” I repeat to myself.

  But the words don’t connect.

  I’M SILENT FOR THE REST of the drive around the lake, through the canyon, across the valley. Quietly, I board the plane with the others. I make my way to the back of it. Others try to sit around me, but I ignore them, looking silently out the window at the dark runway.

  Ian sits in the aisle across from me. He never seems to look away from me, but he doesn’t say a word.

  The plane takes off. I watch out the small port window, my heart racing faster and faster as I see the runway whip by. And finally, the wheels lift off, and I am no longer on Austrian soil.

  I close my eyes and lean my head back against the seat.

  I’m free.

  After almost seven weeks in Roter Himmel, seven weeks of uncertainty if I would live, I’m free.

  But I am no longer whole.

  Eyes closed.

  Deep, slow breaths.

  Just being.

  We touch down at some point to refuel. Then we’re back in the air and we all have to close our windows as the sun rises.

  Just an hour before we touch down in Mississippi, Elle comes to sit down next to me.

  “Hey,” she says in that quiet way of hers.

  “Hi,” I respond. My voice feels rough, unused.

  “Are you okay?” Her brows furrow with concern. She reaches over and takes my hand. Her skin is soft and warm. Warmer than I ever will be again.

  I study my own skin for a long moment. The pores there. The little scar from where I cut myself in the bakery three years ago. The ragged state of my fingernails after so long without any luxuries. “No,” I answer honestly.

  Elle bites her lower lip, studying me. “I heard a lot of talk while I was in the castle,” she says. “Most of those who are taken to the castle for trial don’t survive. You’re still here. And that isn’t just luck. You’re still here for a reason.”

  “Are you saying it’s fate or something that I’m a shell of a person now?” My words are empty, hollow, and cold.

  Elle takes a moment to respond. I can feel it as she collects her thoughts. So quiet and unknown. “When I harvest my garden, it looks terrible for a few weeks,” she says. She rubs a circle into the back of my hand. “Ravaged. Mown down. It looks ugly. But it always grows back. It always reproduces. You’ve only been temporarily harvested and depleted. But you’ve got good roots, Alivia. You will grow back.”

  Once more, I’m tempted to cry. Such wise words from one so young. But I’m exhausted. And the tears will only drain me all the more.

  “Where is Lula?” I ask, changing the topic. “Who is taking care of her?”

  “The Sheriff helped me get her into a care facility,” Elle says. There’s immediate sadness and regret in her voice, which is quite the feat for her. “She’s in Draper. She’s technically a ward of the state until Ian comes back and decides what to do with her. He’s her power of attorney. She’s so far gone now, Alivia.”

  “I’m really sorry to hear that,” I whisper. And I really am. The woman has always been wretched to me. Never a kind word or expression. But she took care of Ian and Elle after their parents were killed. She’s strong. And that speaks for everything.

  Elle nods, and this is the most emotional I have ever seen her. There’s so much pain among those on this plane right now. It’s crushing.

  Elle pulls me into her and I rest my head on her chest as she wraps her arms around me. She holds me tight, and we cling to each other for the rest of the flight.

  The wheels touch down and Elle releases me. Once more, I get the feeling that I should feel stiff, achy, after everything I’ve been through, but this vampire body of mine is just fine.

  Even if my mind isn’t.

  We taxi to a spot off to the side of the runway. Everyone pulls on a pair of sun goggles since it’s only two in the afternoon, the brightest part of the day.

  One by one, my House members file off of the plane. Ian waits until I stand and follows behind me.

  Nial stands alone outside the plane, waiting. As soon as I see him, my heart swells.

  As soon as he sees me, his doctor side goes into overdrive.

  “What the hell did they do to you?” he breathes as he crosses the rest of the space between us. His fingers rise to my face, gently touching and feeling.

  “I think I’m okay,” I say. And it feels so nice, having someone genuinely concerned for my well-being. “The bones are healed. My nose might not ever look quite the same, but I’m okay.”

  He feels around, and there’s a dull pain from his touch. “It does feel as if the bones have set correctly. That was some hit you suffered.”

  I nod. “How is everything at the House? Is Silent Bend still under evacuation?”

  The rest of the House members load their baggage into the bus Nial has brought to shuttle everyone home.

  “The snow melted about a week after Cyrus took you away,” Nial says. There’s concern in his eyes, confusion, too. “Since the King and the Court members were gone, the Sheriff thought it would be safe to let everyone back into town. It’s been a massive clean up effort to put the town back together. Things were a bit of a mess. We all did what we could to help.”

  “Thank you,” I breathe, so appreciative. There was a reason I picked Nial to serve as interim House leader. “So the curse storm, it’s gone?”

  “It seems so, but there’s something that just doesn’t feel…right, in town,” Nial says. “It’s hard to explain. Like the
re’s this gloom. This sense of dread that’s hanging over everyone.”

  I don’t quite know what to make of that. The curse storm dissipated almost as soon as I left town. Maybe it really was for me.

  “Is everything else at the House okay?” I ask. “No more attacks?”

  Nial shakes his head, watching as everyone finishes getting into the bus. “No more attacks. Things at the Institute are going well. We can finish going over everything when we get back to the Estate.”

  I bite my lower lip and glance over my shoulder at Ian, who waits silently. When I look back at Nial, he seems to understand what is coming.

  “If things are okay for now, I’m not coming back. Not just yet,” I say as I look away from Nial. “I’ve kind of…lost myself. I think I need at least a few days to go find Alivia Ryan again.”

  When I look back at him, he’s studying me closely. As if he’s reading everything I’ve been through right off my skin. He reaches forward and takes one of my hands in his. “You do what you need to do. We will take care of things, and your House will still be waiting for you when you get back.”

  “Thank you,” I breathe. Tears well in my eyes once more. I pull him into a hug. “Will you tell the others for me? I don’t think I can do it right now.”

  “Of course,” he whispers as he runs a hand down the back of my hair. He reaches into his pocket and grabs something. When he places it in my hand, I see it’s my wallet. And I have to wonder if he somehow expected this. “Go take care of yourself.”

  I step away, giving Nial a little smile. I turn back for the plane. Ian is at my side, and there was never any question that he was coming with me.

  We walk back onto the plane, and I tell the pilot where to head.

  Once we take off, Ian is on the phone, taking care of everything, preparing for our arrival. Once more, I close my eyes and revel in the quiet.

  It’s a four hour non-stop flight from Mississippi to Colorado. Twilight is heavy on the runway when Ian and I step off the plane and make our way to the small airport terminal where we pick up our rental car. It’s a small, simple sedan, and for some reason, it’s so comforting.

  As we drive toward my old hometown, Ian reaches across the car and takes my hand in his.

  Within twenty minutes, the surroundings become familiar. Memories start popping up to fit the locations. The doctor’s office where I got my kindergarten shots. The movie theater we used to go to on Saturday nights. The diner where my mom worked.

  “Turn left here,” I tell him. Ian does, and we turn onto the road. Our hotel is just down the street. “Thank you for coming with me,” I say quietly as he pulls into the parking lot.

  “Of course,” he says. His eyes are full of searching when he looks at me. But he doesn’t press.

  Without words, he knows I need some space right now.

  We climb out of the car and head inside. Neither of us has any bags, considering we were both dragged away from our homes as prisoners. I only have the wallet Nial handed me and nothing else.

  We check into our room and head up to the third floor. The hotel is standard, nothing particularly nice. This is a small town without many options, but it’s clean.

  As Ian closes the door behind us, I walk to the window and pull the curtains open, taking in the newborn night, staring out at the familiar town.

  “So this is where you grew up?” Ian says as he walks up beside me. He stands with his hands in his pockets, his stance easy and relaxed, but there is tenseness in his voice. He’s not sure what we’re doing here.

  Neither am I. “Yeah,” I say.

  “This is the first time I’ve ever been this far north or west,” Ian admits. “The clerk looked at me kind of funny. Don’t think he liked my accent.”

  This does pull a little bit of a smile to my lips. “Southern accents do take some getting used to.”

  “So do you northern people,” he teases me.

  “Have you ever traveled much?” I ask absentmindedly. My eyes are running the familiar roads as the darkness takes over and the streetlights illuminate the town.

  Ian shakes his head. “Only to Louisiana and Alabama. Never had enough money to travel anywhere else.”

  I shake my head. “Me, either. Here, and Utah to the National Parks; California once to go to Disneyland. Vegas with a friend a few years ago. But that’s it.”

  “Well, now you can add Austria to your travel list.” I look over and see a hopeful smile on his lips. He’s trying to make me feel better.

  But the reminder just brings up all the pain. All over again.

  “Hey,” he says softly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. Come here.”

  He reaches out for me and pulls me into his chest. I’m panicked at first. We can’t touch. We can’t be close. Because I went and ruined everything. I made a mess.

  But Ian voices none of those things. He only folds his arms tightly around me, guiding my head to his chest. And after a moment, I relax and wrap my own arms around his waist. I let my cheek sink into his chest. I take a deep breath.

  This is so familiar, standing here, wrapped in Ian’s protective embrace. Yet so foreign. We’ve been apart as long as we were together. It almost feels as if those two time frames cancel everything out. Yet there’s too much history, too many emotions between the two of us for that to be true.

  I’m not sure how long we stand there like that, just holding each other without saying a single word, but with each passing moment, the coiled black snake that has been living inside of me the past few months grows a little weaker.

  “ARE YOU SURE THEY’RE EVEN still going to be open?” Ian asks doubtfully as we walk down the dark road. It’s four in the morning; he’s justified in questioning.

  “This isn’t Silent Bend,” I laugh at him as I turn and walk down the sidewalk backwards. “The town’s small, but not small enough that we wouldn’t have a twenty-four hour LowMart.”

  He smiles back, entertained by my teasing. “If you say so, princess.”

  The words once came out of his mouth condescending and judgmental. Now they’re just…light.

  I smile once more before turning around again and rounding the last corner.

  I’m not healed. But I’m trying. I need to laugh. To shrug some of this weight off my shoulders. Even if it’s just momentary. I’m going to try to fake it until I make it.

  The store’s parking lot is nearly empty. Half a dozen cars sit in the darkness, haloed in the pale buzzing glow of the lights that dot the concrete here and there. When we walk through the automatic sliding doors, it’s a ghost town.

  “You’re a millionaire,” Ian says doubtfully as we walk through and toward the clothing department. “You have half a dozen people who rely on you for their income. You’re a damn immortal Royal, but you wanted to come to LowMart for supplies.”

  “It’s time I went back to my roots, Mr. Ward,” I say as I observe a stack of jeans that are only twenty dollars. I pick out my size and throw them into our cart. “I never had an item of clothing from a mall until I was fourteen and had the money to buy it myself. Mom didn’t make enough at the diner for even mid-grade labels.”

  I grab a shirt that’s on a plastic hanger, and debate for a minute if I like it enough to buy it. It’ll do. I toss it into the cart, too. I grab two other pairs of pants and three more shirts.

  “Trust me, I know all about bargain shopping,” Ian says as he follows behind me with the cart. “I never bought anything that wasn’t from a second hand store until I was a senior in high school.”

  “See,” I say, looking over my shoulder at him as we keep walking. “We have at least one thing in common.”

  It’s so simple and far too easy and normal for us. These conversations. Shopping. It feels fake and impossible. But how should it be? We were normal people once. I need that again.

  “Yeah,” Ian says with a little smile.

  He follows me into the intimate wear section. And he blushes hard when I set to pick
ing out two bras and a five pack of panties. I feel heat rise in my own cheeks when I toss them into the cart he’s still in charge of.

  “Your turn,” I say, pulling the cart from him and steering us in the direction of the men’s department.

  “I don’t know how I feel about you buying me stuff,” Ian says, raising an eyebrow at me. He follows two steps behind me.

  “You don’t have much choice, considering you were dragged out of Silent Bend in the middle of the night. So, unless you want to wear those same clothes for the foreseeable future…”

  He gives a smirk and relents to looking through the bargain-priced clothes.

  He ends up with a pack of boxer briefs, two pairs of jeans, and a few simple shirts.

  “I’m trying to imagine you here just a year ago,” Ian says as we grab essential toiletries. Toothbrushes, paste, deodorant, shampoo. “Being broke, living by yourself, shopping just like any other twenty-something year old. I just can’t really picture it.”

  “Well,” I say as we walk down the shampoo aisle. “I once knocked over this huge bottle of super cheap conditioner, right here,” I say as I point to the exact place on the floor. “It busted open and spilled all over the aisle. I was too broke to pay for it and what I needed, so I just kind of snuck out of the aisle before anyone could see it was me who did it.”

  “You did such a thing?” Ian says in mock horror. I just smile back at him.

  “Now you ready to see my ultimate human weakness?” I ask as I steer the cart in the direction of the food aisles.

  “I’m pretty sure most everything about you was weak when you were a human,” Ian says, his voice deadpan serious. “Except that time I tried to feed you to the alligators. Thought you were going to rip my balls off any second.”

  “I would have, had you suddenly not offered to take me home and make Rath explain everything.”

  I head for the snack aisle. My eyes scan the shelves until I find what I’m looking for. I grab the blue package of chocolate cookies with the milky white frosting in the center and hold them up in glee.

 

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