by Keary Taylor
The King smiles and takes a step forward. “I do think this calls for a celebration.” He looks over his shoulder at me. “Don’t you agree?”
But instead of being excited and relieved, I’m suddenly full of dread.
Because I know this isn’t as simple as a celebration.
I have to agree, though. So I nod.
“You all shall join me tomorrow night. Shall we say, half past midnight, in that lovely park which my temporary residence overlooks. Come thirsty.”
Not another word, he turns and heads for the door, immediately followed by Fredrick, and it’s unspoken that Ian and I follow him.
“He means the Boston Public Garden,” I say quietly as I take one step toward the door to follow. “Don’t forget who is throwing this party. Dress appropriately.”
Danny walks out the door and I follow Ian out, and I know there are a thousand words running through both of our heads, but in the presence of Cyrus, they cannot be spoken. So we will both suffer in anticipation until he is safely deposited back home.
The five of us climb into the SUV and Danny points us back in the direction of Boston.
“Charles never was able to resist a good party,” Cyrus says coyly. Fredrick is on the phone, speaking rapidly in heavily accented English, making arrangements.
“I’ve heard as much,” I say. “But I have a feeling he won’t fall for it.”
“We shall see.” Cyrus smiles darkly.
It’s nearly one in the morning when we get back to Cyrus’ condo. As we park in the garage, I stall outside the door to the inside.
“Cyrus,” I say, forcing my voice not to quiver. “I wonder if you’ll join me for a little walk. I’d like to talk to you about a few more things.”
“There’s more?” he questions with a raised eyebrow.
“I’ll join you,” Ian quickly interjects.
“That won’t be necessary,” I cut him off. “We have some private things to discuss that are personal to the King and I.”
Cyrus looks curious and entertained as he slowly looks from Ian to me. A little smile curls on his lips. “I’d be honored.”
He crosses to the door that lets outside and holds it open for me.
Since it’s one thirty in the morning, the streets are quiet. Little traffic is on the streets and the King and I cross the road and head to the entrance to the Public Garden. There’s a sign there that says the park is open from dawn until dusk, but I worry about very little when Cyrus is at my side. Somehow, I very much doubt that getting use of it tomorrow night will be a problem for him.
“I have to confess, Elle Ward,” Cyrus says as we step onto the walking trail that wanders through the park, “I’m not entirely surprised to see what you have grown into as a woman.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I admit.
Cyrus pushes his hands into his pockets and looks out at his surroundings. “Nothing ever scares you. Very little surprises you. You’ve lived too abnormal of a life for that. I had you brought to Court as quite a young girl. But even when you arrived, you seemed neither surprised nor scared. I’ve met thousands of individuals in my very long life. But you…” He looks over at me, his deep eyes studying me. “You stood out.”
“I don’t like standing out,” I say, looking down the trail.
“And I think that’s part of why you do,” he says, and I can still feel his eyes on me. “You are one of the most unassuming creatures I’ve ever encountered. You’re somehow perfectly fit for our world, without ever being anything like us.”
I mull that over for a moment. “I think that’s an accurate description.”
Cyrus still does not look away. And he slows a little as he walks, his gaze becoming more intense.
“What?” I question.
He lets out a little chuckle, finally picking up his pace. “You’re nothing whatsoever like your brother, are you?”
I shrug. “Not in most ways. No.”
“Nor are you like his wife,” Cyrus continues. “You’re much stronger than she is.”
I shake my head. “Alivia’s probably the strongest woman I know,” I disagree. “What she’s been through…”
“Yet she needs those that surround her,” Cyrus says. “She crumbles without them. She needs that support. Their strength. She does indeed thrive with it. But you…” He trails off for a moment, and I’m beginning to feel uncomfortable under his gaze. “You grow stronger on your own. You stand firm as an oak. Your roots run strong and deep enough that when the storms come, they only encourage your roots to grow stronger and deeper. With all the individuals I know, that makes you incredibly unique, Elle.”
I look over at him. And I see in his eyes that he means it.
Ian was right. Cyrus is entirely different with me then he ever was with Alivia.
Then again, he’s not hoping that I am his queen.
I haven’t toyed with his heart as she did.
“You’re an interesting creature yourself,” I say, looking forward. We stop in the middle of the bridge that crosses the pond. I place my hands on the ledge, looking out over the water. A team of ducks float on one edge of it, sleeping and serene for the night.
“I have two more things to tell you,” I say. My voice cuts through the dark, as if speaking out to the entire city, defining the future I’ve fought so hard to gain.
Cyrus stands beside me, looking at the view alongside me. “I’m ready.”
I hesitate for a moment, because this is the most important key of all. It will determine my fate. Alter the future of this child.
“This child is a girl,” I say evenly but quietly. My hands come to my stomach. “A female Royal.”
Cyrus’ head turns toward me, and I feel his gaze on my stomach.
“I didn’t want to know the gender when they did the ultrasound,” I say around my dry throat. “I still couldn’t cope with what Charles did to me.” I let my eyes slide closed, because in many moments, I still can’t believe it. Still can’t quite accept that this is the reality. “But I just know. I can feel it.”
Gently, I feel Cyrus’ hand come to my stomach. I let my eyes slide back open, and see his hand there, so gentle. So reverent.
“That is very good news,” he says quietly.
I study his face and instantly my heart breaks for him.
There’s so much longing there. So much pain. Those eyes are so very vulnerable.
The love of his life has been dead for so very long. He’s searched for her for over two centuries.
And now there is a new hope in his eyes.
I place my hand over Cyrus’, and suddenly there’s movement.
A breathy sound escapes his throat, and his eyes widen.
“You’re actually the first, besides me, who’s felt her move,” I say with a little smile.
His eyes flit up to mine, wide and happy, a smile upon his lips. He looks back down at my stomach when there’s another tiny movement.
“I am only alive and where I am today because of the people who support me,” I say quietly. “I was shutting down, withering away from what Charles did to me. But I’m lucky. I have people who love me and sometimes know me better than I know myself. I couldn’t have made it this far, carrying this child, if it weren’t for an amazing man. Someone who is a far better person than I am. But he’s currently locked up for something he did not do.”
Cyrus’ eyes rise up to mine, and I wonder if he already knows what I now have to tell him.
“It wasn’t Lexington who was curing the Bitten,” I say, but finally, there’s that hint of fear in my voice. “It was me.”
He doesn’t say anything for several all-too-long moments. His eyes study mine, flicking from one of mine to the other.
Two deep breaths.
Three.
Four.
“Why?”
The question startles me, and my stomach does a little backflip.
“Because most of them didn’t have any say in their turn,” I say. “In all
wars, there are victims caught in the crossfire. That’s what ninety percent of the Bitten are. And I believe they need a second chance at life.”
“And the others?” he says. He takes half a step closer to me, and I feel his breath on my cheeks. On my lips. “The ones like your mother, who created problems. The ones who threaten the exposure of my kind? What of them?”
“I didn’t say they all deserved a second chance,” I clarify. “Some of them are the reason you have the laws you have.”
Cyrus grabs my wrists, raising my arms up. He exposes the many, many scars on my arms to the moonlight.
“You mean to tell me that you, a very fragile human girl, have risked your very life, over and over, to help others who have nothing to do with you? That you risked your life to help complete strangers?”
He rubs his thumbs over the raised scars on my arms, his eyes glowing very faintly red.
“Yes,” I answer him honestly.
“Killian told me he had no doubt that your fiancé was the one who had been curing the Bitten,” Cyrus says. He takes just one of my arms, sliding his hand over my flesh, slow, gentle. “That this Lexington knew too many details. Clarified too many specifics of the creation of the serum.”
“Lexington is incredibly smart,” I say. Goose pimples rise on my flesh at the King’s touch. “Sometimes others look at him and see his laid back nature and his quick ability to joke about anything and everything and assume he’s something he’s not. But he’s one of the smartest people you’ve ever met. He’s also incredibly quick on his feet.”
“Meaning he’s a quick-thinking liar,” Cyrus restates with a smile.
“You could word it that way.” My eyes meet the King’s.
“So if this smart fiancé of yours did not create this cure, where did it come from?”
And I knew this was the question I was going to be asked. The one I couldn’t answer honestly, because the truth would expose Henry Conrath.
Alivia has made it very clear that Court does not know Henry is still alive. As of now, there are just rumors that his death was faked.
I knew I was going to have to lie about this answer, so I’ve been practicing keeping my heartbeat from betraying me.
“One of my professors when I was at Northwestern created it for me.” I lie, channeling Lexington’s abilities. Only I’ve been thinking of this one for years, should I ever get caught. “She was a brilliant chemist. Always researching. Always creating new things. She could have made a lot of money working for pharmaceutical companies. But that wasn’t who she was.”
Only this lie is rooted in truth. Dr. Warton was indeed brilliant, and could have made millions with her abilities. Instead, she helped inspire students like myself.
“I was almost finished with my degree,” I continue as Cyrus studies me, his eyes slotted, as if he can see down to my very lungs, to my calm heart, searching for signs of lies. “We’d been working on some things together. But one day I brought her a vial of Bitten blood, and challenged her to create a serum that could reverse its strange defects. Within four weeks she created a successful cure. She had no idea what she’d made.”
“And what became of this professor?” Cyrus questions.
“No one knew she’d been suffering from ovarian cancer,” I mix lies with truth. “She passed away just weeks after I received my degree.”
Cyrus studies me, and there’s a look of slight disbelief in his eyes.
He can’t tell my truth from lies.
“I found a pharmaceutical company in Venezuela to manufacture the cure for me,” I lie. “They’ve been supplying my work for the past few years. But when Charles took me…” I trail off. “I haven’t cured any Bitten since December.”
I raise my eyes back up to Cyrus’, standing straight and tall.
“I know it was going against your decree,” I say. “But I don’t apologize for the people I’ve helped. The lives I’ve saved. It was never Lexington that cured them, as he said, to protect me and this child. It was me. And I fully accept that responsibility.”
Cyrus studies me, unmoving, utterly silent. His eyes just bore into mine, his expression impossible to read once more.
But I don’t flinch. I stand there. Calm. Collected.
And the King is the first to break the stare.
His eyes drift back down to my stomach.
He takes another half a step forward. Places his hands on either side of my stomach. Gentle. Tender.
“Our world needs more balanced, brave people like you, Elle Ward.” He doesn’t look up. He continues to stare at my stomach. “I don’t often encounter individuals who defy my orders. And I’ve never encountered a human who has done so.”
He looks up into my eyes.
“But you have earned my respect,” he says. “And have had it since you were just a girl. I cannot condone what you’ve done, and cannot allow you to continue this work. But I feel you are one of the most complicated yet simple humans on this planet.”
I raise my chin a little, holding his eyes.
“You are pardoned, Elle Ward,” Cyrus says as his hands drop away from my stomach. “And your fiancé shall be released soon. With your promise that you will remember who is King in this world you are forever tied to.”
He is asking me to promise I will cease curing the Bitten. But he has not worded his request carefully enough.
“I promise I will always remember.”
A coy little smile curls on his lips, and I have a feeling he knows what I’m thinking. Yet he doesn’t correct me.
“I have to ask,” I say, continuing in my boldness, “will you put the new House through a game?”
Cyrus’ smile grows. “I am notorious for them, aren’t I?”
I don’t answer him.
“The game has already begun,” he says, inclining his head toward me. “And this one is purely mental. It’s a game of dreaded anticipation.”
“There is no actual game,” I say, catching on quickly. In some ways, I feel like Cyrus and I think too much alike. “You’re only letting them think a game is coming.”
“I do confess, I enjoy watching them squirm.” The dark look in his eyes confirms it. “And now that you know the truth, Elle Ward, I expect you to not spoil the game.”
I shake my head. My stomach is sick, but I can only stretch my luck so far. “I understand.”
“Good,” he says. “Now that that’s out of the way.”
Suddenly he disappears, and I hear someone cry out in pain across the bridge and partly around the pond.
Through the dark, under the moonlight, I see a man wearing jogging clothes, half crumpled in the King’s embrace. His fangs are sunk deep into the man’s neck. And he grows more limp by the moment.
My stomach rolls as I watch the King of all vampires drain the man. Slowly. Deliberately.
And when Cyrus drops him to the ground finally, I know he’s dead.
With a satisfied moan, Cyrus straightens. Blood is smeared all over his face, and through the light of the half moon, he looks up at me, and smiles.
“He said he’d release Lexington today,” Julie says as she twists my hair into an elegant design. “That’s good. You’ll be back with him before you know it.”
I nod, trying to convince myself that the stated facts will become reality.
But there’s still a hint of fear in the back of my throat.
“Does this suit look okay on me?”
Ian walks into my bathroom where Julie is helping me get ready, shrugging and adjusting in Lexington’s suit.
“It’s fine,” I say, even though the suit does look a tad too short and too baggy in the shoulders for him.
Lexington is about an inch shorter than Ian, but I hadn’t realized that Lexington is broader than Ian.
My chest aches seeing him wear it. It’s what Lexington wore when he proposed to me.
“You look really nice,” Ian says as he looks at me in the mirror.
I smile, looking down at my dress.
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It’s a simple heather gray number. A deep V-cut exposes a little more cleavage than I’m comfortable with, but accents my changing shape nicely. It hangs long, the back of it trailing a little too long for my five-foot-four frame, hanging down to the ground.
“You’ve got that pregnancy glow they talk about,” Julie says as she pushes one final bobby pin into my hair.
It’s curled and twisted into a complicated knot at the base of my head. She wove a white beaded band across the crown of my head. It’s whimsical and airy and so beautiful.
“Thank you,” I say to the both of them. “It’s kind of nice to feel pretty for a while. I’m getting to that phase where I’m just starting to feel kind of fat.”
Julie laughs, hugging me into her, and Ian just gives this little eye roll and a smile.
“Come on, everyone from the House should be arriving at the park any minute.” Ian nods his head toward the door.
I slip my shoes on, simple, strappy sandals, because heels while I’m pregnant just aren’t going to happen. And then the three of us head down the stairs.
It’s dark when we step out onto the sidewalk. The hour presses toward two in the morning.
It’s weird living under the pretense that those around me have to be limited to the night time hours, when, for so long, they’ve all been going out during the day with no problems at all.
But everyone understands we have to do all we can to protect Henry and the House of Conrath.
“Can’t say I’m a fan of all this night time activity,” Julie says. “You need to be sleeping when you can, and instead you’re constantly dealing with high levels of stress.”
I look over at Ian, and there’s a knowing look that passes between us. I told him I planned to ask her to raise this child, because she’s always taking care of everyone, and here she is, doing it yet again.
“You’re not wrong,” I say after only a moment of hesitation. “But let’s just keep our fingers crossed that it won’t be an issue for much longer.”
“He really seems to think Charles might show to this party?” Ian asks doubtfully.