Garden of Graves

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Garden of Graves Page 5

by Keary Taylor


  I don’t want to look. But I can’t help it as my eyes slide over to my brother.

  Black veins stretch out from his eyes. His impossibly strong fingers grip tightly into the man’s shoulders as he holds him still and upright. His fangs are sunk into his neck, and I watch his throat muscles constrict as he swallows blood.

  In the nearly eight years that my brother has been a Born, I’ve never seen him feed on a human.

  And my stomach rolls as my eyes slide over.

  Lexington meets my eyes over the woman’s shoulder. There’s pain there, so much regret and self-loathing. He holds my gaze the entire time as he sucks, pulls blood from where his fangs sink into the woman’s neck.

  It puts things in perspective. Reminds me of what he really is.

  He may have control. May seem so normal and casual and like any other human man.

  But here is the truth of what he is.

  What he’s been for nearly 150 years.

  Emotion bites at the back of my eyes, and I force them closed for a moment.

  When I open them, I stare at King Cyrus, who gazes back at me.

  This little show was for me. To remind me that I am fragile. To put me in my place. To show me what those who I surround myself are capable of.

  But I will take it. I accept his show of dominance. In exchange for what he has done and will do for me.

  “Thank you,” I say, even though my throat is tight.

  The smile on his face grows fractionally bigger, the look in his eyes just a little darker, and he nods his head in acceptance.

  Lexington releases the woman, and she sways just a little before he grabs her once more, steadying her.

  “I’m sorry,” he mutters as he wipes a tiny drop of blood away from his lips on the back of his suit sleeve and looks over at me.

  I’m not sure if he’s speaking to me or the feeder.

  Maybe both.

  “Don’t be,” the woman says, blinking fast to clear the fog from her brain, a feeling I’m far too familiar with. She takes a step away from Lexington, slowly stumbling her way back to the gathering crowd of humans.

  I mean to take a step back toward Lexington, to go to his side. But my feet are rooted on the spot.

  Ian looks up at me as his own feeder walks away, and there’s just as much shame in his eyes as I’ve ever seen.

  “Thank you all kindly,” Cyrus says, loud enough for all to hear. “I do hope you enjoy the deposits into your accounts.”

  Suddenly, every one of the Born in the park perk up. Eyes sweep to the fence that surrounds the beautiful grounds.

  And my ears pick up on the whispers.

  My eyes slide to the dark shadows against the buildings. And dread pools in my stomach.

  I see a set of eyes watching us. Find another just a few yards from them.

  Within moments, I find over a dozen people watching us.

  Who have just seen the very public display of vampirism.

  “Hunt them down!” Cyrus bellows, his voice nearly inhuman. His eyes flash brilliant red, black veins racing down his face.

  Without a second’s hesitation, Killian and his hunters disappear in the night. And just another moment later, Cyrus himself is gone.

  “Run,” I breathe over my lips, even though I know none of them will be able to hear me. Even though I know it’s far too late.

  I didn’t even realize I took a step forward, but Lexington grabs my forearm, stopping me.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” he says with regret and pain. “Don’t make it worse.”

  “This was Jonathan, wasn’t it?” Ian says, coming to my side, looking around. A choked off yelp leaps into the night. I swear I hear the sound of fangs tearing flesh.

  Tears instantly spring into my eyes and the breath stills in my chest. I numbly nod, taking another step forward, even though Lexington holds me tethered.

  “Who’s Jonathan?” Lexington questions.

  Another yelp cuts through the dark. My throat feels so tight I cannot breathe.

  A sob catches in my chest and I turn to tuck myself into Lexington’s chest. But the sight of a drop of blood on his collar stills me in my place.

  I take a step back from him, my eyes fixed on that bit of evidence of what he just did.

  My eyes slide over to my brother, and there’s a small smear of red on his lower lip.

  I take another step backward.

  “Elle,” Lexington breathes.

  But he doesn’t know what to say.

  Because he understands.

  I take another step away, shaking my head. My hands rising to my stomach.

  The sound of wet ripping assaults my ears.

  I squeeze my eyes closed, shaking my head, and the present merges with the past.

  There’s blood soaking the ground at my feet. I nearly trip over a decapitated body. War cries fill the air.

  There’s the smell of steel and gunpowder.

  The echo of last breaths taken.

  And then the blast of the rifle as my finger squeezes the trigger.

  A spray of blood.

  And she’s dead.

  “Elle,” a voice echoes from too near and too far.

  I squeeze my eyes tighter. Shake my head.

  “Elle, you have to breathe.”

  I try to take one, but it catches in my throat, and I don’t want to smell the blood.

  “Elle, please look at me.”

  “Dispose of the bodies,” I hear another voice cut through the night. Cyrus. “Make sure they are never found.”

  “Elle.” The voice whispers to me once more.

  “Do not be alarmed,” the King’s voice grows closer. “Such tragedies often happen. It is unfortunate. It serves as a reminder that we must be ever vigilant.”

  I’m frozen. Rooted. Numb.

  “Do not be distressed, Miss Ward,” I hear Cyrus’ voice come nearer. “The problem has been taken care of.”

  But he does not know.

  “She’s exhausted,” I hear Lexington say, once more easily covering for me when I cannot speak for myself. “I better get her home to bed. Thank you for the party.”

  I have to move. I have to get out of here.

  I force my eyes open.

  To immediately meet Cyrus’. He studies me, genuine concern in his eyes. But he nods, dismissing us.

  Little does he know that I hold the information we all so desperately need to hear.

  But I just can’t right in this moment.

  Not surrounded by the blood and bodies of all those people who just witnessed unspeakable magic and unnatural nature.

  Lexington’s warm hand presses into the small of my back, and I hate that I feel myself cringe away from his touch just slightly. But I force my feet to walk. One foot in front of the other.

  I walk, too fast for my tired body, but I walk quickly, across the street and down the sidewalk. I hear two sets of feet following me. They whisper quietly, words I can’t hear, but words my brain can’t process right now.

  Without stopping, I head straight for my building, walk up the stairs, unlock my door. I step inside and head straight for my bedroom and lock the door behind me.

  I cross the room and grab a pillow and blanket from my bed and head into the closet, closing that door behind me, as well. I tuck myself into the back corner of it, nestling in behind all my dresses that hang long, veiled away.

  I wrap the blanket around myself, prop the pillow up against the wall, and curl into the fetal position.

  I wake up extremely early.

  I came home last night around 2:45 and fell asleep fairly quick because I was just plain exhausted. But sleeping in the closet, huddled in a corner didn’t make for the most comfortable sleeping arrangements. I wake just after five.

  I shower, dress in comfortable clothes I can wear to the shop later. I do my hair and put on some makeup. Look in the mirror, practicing until I’ve composed my poker face.

  Ian and Lexington are both in the kitchen whe
n I walk down, and they both seem exhausted and concerned.

  “We need to go to the House of Martials,” I say as I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder before either of them can say anything. The House may be official, but I will never call it the House of Allaway. “We’ve got some important things to discuss with everyone.”

  Lexington and Ian look at each other, concern heavy in their expressions, but they both nod and the lot of us head out the door and down the stairs. We step out into the barely lightening world, the air cool.

  Lexington opens the passenger door for me and I slide inside. Ian climbs in the back seat and Lexington starts the car.

  We roll down the road and he points us in the direction of Cambridge.

  “Elle,” Ian says from behind. “Are…are you okay?”

  I stare out the front window. “Yeah,” I say through a thick throat. “I will be. I just need a few hours to be human.”

  Neither of them say anything in response.

  But even though I’m still having a hard time looking at him, I reach out, and take Lexington’s hand in mine.

  In the back of my mind, I know how much agony he must be in at the moment. He once asked another woman to marry him. But eventually, what he was became too much for her to handle, and she left him.

  I need my moments to be human, but it kills me to think what might be going through his head right now.

  I squeeze his hand just a little tighter.

  When we park in front of the House, it’s dark. When we walk in through the front doors, it’s silent save for the sound of two voices coming from the dining room.

  We find Duncan and Eva talking quietly, a coffee mug between both of their hands.

  “Hey,” Duncan says, standing. “What are you guys doing here?”

  “There are some things I need to tell you all,” I say as I set my bag on the table. I head for the fridge, and Eva jumps to her feet, pulling pans out, offering to make breakfast. “I thought this was probably the safest time of day to talk.”

  “Do I need to go wake everyone up?” Duncan asks, the crease between his eyes deepening.

  “At least Aleah,” I say. I pull out some orange juice, pouring myself a glass.

  Duncan nods and heads down the hall to her room.

  “What’s this about?” Lexington asks, leaning in close. “Elle, I’m worried-”

  “It’s about Jonathan Harper,” Ian cuts in, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “You guys keep saying that name,” Lexington says in confusion.

  “Just wait a minute,” I say, rounding the bar so I can sit while Eva cooks me some scrambled eggs.

  “What’s going on?” Robert says grumpily as he walks into the room. He wears only a pair of pajama bottoms.

  “Elle’s got something she wants to talk to us about,” Eva fills in.

  “Couldn’t have waited for a less forsaken hour?” he complains as he walks over to the coffee maker and pours himself a cup.

  “Cut her some slack,” Eva defends. “It’s not like you really need the sleep, anyway.”

  A truly terrifying form shuffles down the hall toward us. Hair wild, going in every direction, a huge shirt rumpled and stretched out. Dark circles around her eyes, and if looks could kill…

  “What the hell could you possibly want at this hour?” she nearly sneers. Her fangs actually lengthen.

  “Hey now,” Lexington says, stepping in front of me and holding a hand out in her direction. “I think you got more than your fill last night.”

  “I’m not going to bite her,” Aleah says in annoyance. She plops down at the table, running her fingers back through her mess of locks. “But she better have a damn good reason for the early house call.”

  “Four days ago, one of the Bitten I’d cured showed up at my shop,” I say as Eva sets the eggs on a plate in front of me. “He started going off about how the cycle of Bitten would never end. His attitude about all vampires wasn’t exactly positive.”

  “This is that Jonathan Harper?” Lexington asks as he crosses his arms over his chest.

  I nod. “He told me that if I wanted to be part of the revolution, as he called it, to come to a particular address that night.” I scoop some of the eggs into my mouth, chewing as my stomach growls. Just then Julie and Casey wander down, joining the crowd.

  “He had all these people there. Humans. Just regular people. He told them about the vampires.” The shock in the room is electric. The anger in their eyes lights. “Some of them didn’t believe him, so he showed them. He had a Bitten there, who turned another man, and then he cured the both of them.”

  Aleah and Robert swear in unison. Julie’s eyes are wide. Duncan just clenches his jaw tight, fight in his eyes.

  “What happened last night wasn’t just chance,” I say, shaking my head. “I know it was orchestrated by Jonathan Harper. He’s trying to expose you all.”

  “You should have told us about this sooner,” Duncan says. And for the first time, I see doubt in his eyes. “That’s four days that he’s been doing who knows what. Maybe if we’d known sooner we could have prevented this.”

  “Back off, okay,” Ian says, stepping forward. “In case you don’t remember, she kind of had a lot on her plate. I’d like to see any of you balance what she does. And as a human.”

  Aleah shakes her head. “It’s called the bigger picture.” Her eyes glare at me darkly. “We’re all real sorry your boyfriend here got a little scare, but this affects all of us. Every Born. Every Bitten.”

  My eyes fall to the floor. But they aren’t saying anything I haven’t already thought about myself.

  “Maybe I could have handled it better,” I say, forcing myself to continue. “But this is the reality, and we have to deal with it.”

  Lexington’s hands come to my shoulders, giving me support and reassurance.

  “We can’t tell King Cyrus about this,” I say, shaking my head. “He already hates the Bitten. Wants every one of them dead. If he finds out this was organized by someone who used to be a Bitten…”

  “He’ll kill you for sure,” Robert says darkly.

  “Not while she’s pregnant with a Royal,” Lexington says, but his tone says he knows it’s a weak argument.

  “But then it won’t be any different than Charles,” Robert says again, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’ll keep her in prison until she has the child, then kill her.”

  “You better watch yourself,” Lexington warns, and I feel him bristle, as if he grows in size, the threatening side of him growing with speed.

  “I’m just stating facts,” Robert doesn’t back down.

  “Here’s the way it’s going to be,” Ian says loudly, cutting him off. “Cyrus isn’t going to leave until Charles Allaway is dead. For now, Lexington and me and my team will keep Cyrus occupied, looking for Charles. As far as Cyrus knows, last night’s incident was just an unlucky crowd in the wrong place at the wrong time. While we’re doing that, you guys are going to do your job. You are a House, after all. This is your whole purpose. So shut this shit down.”

  They all sit there in silence. Ian can be plenty commanding when he wants to be.

  “I’m really sorry,” I say quietly. And every eye shifts to me. “I never anticipated something like this. I just wanted to help.”

  “The King is right, you know,” Duncan says. “The Bitten. They just cause problems. We can try to help them. Give them their freedom. But in the end, they just keep putting us all at risk. I would think you would know that.”

  The intense pressure I’m under doubles, because they all know who my mother was and what she did.

  My eyes slide over to Ian, but he only stares at the floor, a dark look in his eyes.

  He agrees with them.

  “You’re done,” Aleah says. “You can’t cure any more of them. Let Killian finish his job. Let us do what the King commanded us.”

  “What about Kai?” Lexington pipes up. “What about Michael? They’ve fought beside you.
Helped you get to where you are. Are you really just going to kill them?”

  Nobody responds right at first. Sometimes it’s easy to lose perspective when part of an angry mob.

  “You get in touch with them and tell them to come home,” Aleah says. “They’ve got forty-eight hours clearance. You cure them, and then it’s all over.”

  I look up at them, disgust creeping up my throat.

  Hypocrites.

  How many of them have turned an innocent by accident? And now they’re going to punish their victims.

  “Message received,” I say between clenched teeth. I snatch my bag off the table, grab Lexington’s hand, and head straight for the door.

  I nearly trip over myself in my haste to get out of there, and yank the door to the car open, climbing in where I throw my bag to the floor.

  Lexington climbs in, starting the engine.

  “That’s messed up,” he says, clenching his teeth tight. “Aleah talks about the big picture, but she’s missing it, too. You were only doing something good. Something no one else was brave enough to do. She can’t hold you responsible for the sins of someone else.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I say quietly, looking out the window. “It’s over.”

  I’ve never been more grateful than I am now to not be a part of that House. That I am not a Born. And that I can separate, sparing myself from having to sit and stew in drama.

  “It’s not going to happen, Elle,” Kai says with anger in his narrowed eyes. “I mean…” he trails off, turning away from me, throwing his hands up. “This is who I am. A Bitten is a part of me now. And I’m not just going to give up. There are others out there who will need our help.”

  “Kai,” I say in desperation. “This is bad. You didn’t see everyone at the House. How angry they were. Aleah gave us forty-eight hours, and then I don’t know what will happen.”

  “You’re in danger,” Lexington says. He folds his arms over his chest, standing in the middle of my shop while we argue, just hours after leaving the House of Martials. “You can’t help anyone if you’re dead.”

  “No,” Kai says. “I’m not doing this. We’ve been working so hard, for so long now. You might be able to just walk away from us, but I’m not finished.”

  “You know it isn’t like that,” I say, anger flaring as my voice rises. “I don’t want to stop. I don’t think that what we’ve been doing has been wrong. But I can’t just think about my wants. I have a family to think about, Kai.”

 

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