by Keary Taylor
Instantly I feel my face flush, and a smile breaks ridiculously onto my lips. I grab a pillow and cover my face.
“You’re so mean!” I squeal in embarrassment.
“Mean?” he teases, kneeling on the side of the bed, pulling gently at the pillow. “I’m granting you the absolute pleasure of seeing all this glorious, immortal skin. And you’re blocking the view with a pillow. I don’t think I’m the mean one here.”
I lower the pillow, peaking over the top. I bite my lower lip, meeting his eyes for a moment.
They glow, so brilliant and blue and playful.
I love him.
Slowly, I move the pillow, letting it fall off the side of the bed. I scoot back, propping my back against the headboard. I reach down and pull my own shirt up and off.
Lexington’s hand comes to the side of my face as he brings his lips to mine. I let myself slide down to lie on the bed again and he shifts to situate himself between my legs. His pelvis lowers down to mine, but holding himself up just enough to not squish my twenty-four week belly.
My hands slide down to his chest, indeed appreciating all that glorious, immortal skin. Lexington kisses his way down to my neck, breathing in my scent, letting his teeth gently graze my skin.
He slips his way down between my breasts, kissing his way down. And his hands come to either side of my stomach, gentle. Supportive.
He presses a kiss to the crest of it, his eyes closed for just a moment as if in prayer.
“Thank you,” I say as I slip my fingers into his hair. “For bringing me here.”
He looks up at me, his beautiful blue eyes bright. “We’ve earned it.” He presses one more kiss to my stomach and stands straight. “I’m going to go take a shower. Be back in just a few minutes.”
“’K,” I breathe, taking a moment to really appreciate the beauty that he is. And I sigh in contentment as he walks out.
I wait nervously outside. I keep pacing the grounds between the House and the river. When the heat becomes too much, I take another dip in the pool, letting the hot sun dry me out as I walk around the hedge maze. As I loop around the small graveyard. The one that holds three tombs, but only two bodies.
Those of Alivia’s mother, and the uncle she never met, Elijah Conrath.
I stand at the rivers edge, my hands clasped behind my back. And it’s a weird feeling. Like I’m at home, but half of my heart is over fifteen hundred miles away.
Finally, I hear tires on the gravel driveway and the garage opens. And a few minutes later, one of the doors into the ballroom opens and those footsteps come out onto the veranda.
“You could at least put some damn clothes on.”
When the cuss words start flying, I know Michael has arrived.
I turn and watch him cross the grounds, Lexington just a few steps behind him. Michael does indeed glare at me, not appreciating seeing most of my skin. I wear a pale green bikini, one from my old stash of clothes from when I lived here. My stomach pokes out, my boobs barely fit in it.
“Better than wandering around naked, which actually sounds really nice right now with this humidity.” I smile as he walks up, and slowly, his scowl transfers over to a smile, crow’s feet spreading from his eyes.
“Sure picked a winning time to head South for a little vacation.” He walks right up, pulling me into his arms and a strong embrace. And I feel myself relax a little more. Having his strength there. Supporting and protecting me. Having him here and seeing he is safe.
“Guess that’s where we always run to when things get tight,” I say as I release him. “Home.”
“And some home it is,” he says, turning back toward the mansion. “Guess I never really thought about the reality of your roots. This whole Royal business doesn’t feel too real until you see it in action.”
“You should have been around when the King came to town and it was a party every other night,” Lexington says, sliding his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Liv was walking around with a crown on her head nearly every day. Blood was flowing freely.”
He and I both shake our heads, recalling the mutual horror of those early days of the House of Conrath.
“That house sure is something,” Michael shakes his head. “Never seen anything like this place. But now that I’m here, I see part of what makes you who you are.” He looks over at me, studying.
He knows me so well by now.
“Come on,” I say, taking a step back toward the House. “Why don’t you go get something to eat, and I’ll go get changed. Then we can talk.”
I leave Michael and Lexington in the kitchen with a few bags of donor blood and head upstairs. I shower quickly, dress in a pale pink summer dress, braid my hair over one shoulder, and head back down.
“So, I’ve got these plans,” Cameron intercepts me on the way back downstairs. “See, it’s been well over a year since me and Lex went gator hunting, and I know you’re only here for a short while. So can I steal him for a few hours?”
I chuckle, imagining the two of them tromping through the swamp, hunting for alligators. “Go for it. You two have fun.”
“Lex!” Cameron yells excitedly as he practically skips for a pile of supplies against the wall. “Your old lady says yes! Let’s go.”
My mouth drops open in horror at being called old lady, just as Lexington rounds the corner.
“Old lady?” I say. Lexington just shakes his head, bringing his hands to my side and pressing a quick kiss to my lips.
“He’s just being Cameron,” he says, kissing me once more before helping with the supplies. “I’ll be back before dawn, okay? And then we’ll make all those wedding plans.”
“Alright,” I concede, wondering if this is a good idea. Boys can certainly get out of hand when left to their own devices. “Be careful.”
“Marry me?” Lexington asks with a wide smile as he hesitates in the open door.
“Yes,” I say, feeling the girlish grin spread on my face.
One last wink, and he’s out the door.
I shake my head as I turn.
I see Michael standing in the ballroom, his hands in his pockets, looking out over the river. I walk into the room, my bare feet hardly making any noise as I cross the marble floor.
“It all makes a lot of sense now,” Michael says without looking over at me. “Why you’re so damn tough. Why you know how to take command of situations and solve all the worst problems. This really is your world.”
I nod, placing my hands on my stomach, resting my arms. “I want to take you somewhere,” I say. “Come on.”
We borrow one of Liv’s cars, and I don’t even have to think about it as I guide us through the town. Past the schools. Turning at one of the churches. Down two blocks.
We park on the side of the road, and we both climb out and make our way across the grassy expanse, dotted with hundreds of headstones.
There’s only one cemetery in Silent Bend, and considering our town was established in the late seventeen-hundreds, there’s a lot of ancestors buried here.
We head back toward one corner of the cemetery, to a massive southern live oak. There we slow, and finally, the two of us stop before a headstone.
GEORGE WARD.
The name carved into the stone is getting a little more weather worn now.
“This your old man?” Michael asks. His voice is low. His stance is relaxed but regretful.
I nod. “I was two years old when he died. I don’t even remember anything at all about him. Or my mother.”
“Pretty sad, twisted story, the two of them,” he says.
It’s so painfully true. My poor father, who was so innocent in everything, just happened to fall in love with a woman he would never be enough for. She always wanted more, always longed for something that wasn’t in her DNA.
She wanted it bad enough she turned to another man and conceived my brother. Enough to leave my father again, years and years later, letting herself be turned into a Bitten, and allowing him to kill my father
without hesitation.
“It really all does loop in endless cycles,” I say. “Politics and games, lovers and mortal enemies. All too often the grass looks greener on the other side.”
My eyes slide over to the empty space beside my father’s headstone. “I visited this place for years, said prayers for both my parents. It messed me up for a while, realizing that all this time my mother wasn’t in that coffin in the ground. I had to come to terms with the fact that I’d had this idea of her in my head all this time, like she’d died protecting me and Ian from that Bitten who attacked them. When all along, she was just carrying out her own selfish desires.”
Michael loops his arm over my shoulder, pulling me into his side. I rest my head on his shoulder, locking my arms around his waist.
“Bad things are happening in Boston,” I say. “There’s so much drama and so much at stake. I called King Cyrus because I didn’t see any other options at the moment. But I can’t handle how much danger his presence puts you in. How much Jonathan is putting you in.”
I hesitate, because I feel the air around Michael grow. He knows what I’m about to ask.
“I need you to stay safe,” I say, hugging him just a little tighter. “I never got to know George Ward, but I always wished I had gotten the chance. And maybe you don’t feel the same way about me, but over these past few months, you somehow filled this little void in my chest. And I’m not going to let you be taken away from me.”
Michael leans his head on top of mine, and I hear him take in a deep breath through his nostrils.
“I’m asking you to let me cure you,” I say finally. “I’m asking you to stay safe, because I’m selfish, and I need you.”
He doesn’t say anything right away. We both just stand there, staring at my biological father’s headstone, contemplating life and death.
My request is a bold one. One that wasn’t met well by my best friend. But I’m needy enough to ask.
There’s been very few things in my life that I’ve ever needed. Very few people who formed my inner circle.
But somehow, this brash, colorful, curse-word-slinging man has fit into it.
“Okay,” Michael finally says. “I’ll do it for you.”
I squeeze myself a little tighter into his side, pressing my face against his shoulder when my eyes well up with tears. He presses his lips into my hair, leaving them there for a long time, as we both continue to stare at George’s final resting place.
My breath feels cold as I take the cap off the needle. The tips of my fingers are numb as I sink it into Michael’s arm. And I internally cringe when I press the plunger, releasing a miracle into his veins.
He lets out a demonic howl, overcome in agony. I take half a step away from him, even though I know he’s so consumed by his pain that he won’t be able to lash out at me.
Shelves cluttered with microscopes and tools line the walls. Tables are set out in a grid. A bookcase lines one wall, housing hundreds of medical and scientific tombs.
And now Michael, Alivia, and I occupy the hidden lab, curing a man of a curse.
He lets out another cry of agony and I have to look away. My hands shake, but I try to keep them busy by cleaning up after myself. I throw the needle away, lock up the cabinet with the evidence that would damn Alivia and her father.
“How long has Henry been gone?” I ask, trying to pretend I don’t hear one of my best friends in so much pain.
“Since before the Hunters showed up in Silent Bend,” she replies. “I think he’s been in Guam, but it’s best if I don’t know.”
I nod. A little whisper in the back of my mind tells me that must be hard for her. But I’m too distracted. My own father figure has just dropped to the floor. Utterly silent.
Alivia stoops down and picks him up with ease, lying him on the cot in the corner. I squat down, brushing his hair off his forehead, arranging his hands to rest comfortably on his chest.
“He’ll sleep for twenty-four hours,” I say. “When he wakes up, he’ll be human again.”
Alivia shakes her head. “I still can’t believe he made all this.” She looks up, taking in the incredible lab that I know houses many secrets. “Everything he’s accomplished, yet he still hides in the shadows. Still in danger from the Court.”
“He doesn’t seem to mind though,” I say, looking up at my sister-in-law. “Henry has always been a little aloof.”
Alivia nods her head. “He’s a bit of a ghost. Has been for the last two hundred plus years. I guess old habits don’t ever die.”
But despite her heavy words, there’s a smile in the corner of her lips. Considering she never knew who her father was until she was my age, and then thought he was dead for a year, this is still a happy ending.
“He really means a lot to you, doesn’t he?” Alivia says, looking down at Michael’s now peaceful face.
I nod, studying him, as well. The salt and pepper in his beard, the white that dusts his temples. Deep worry and anger lines cut into his forehead. His hands are weathered, signs of years of hard work.
“He took care of me when the days were really dark. And he always believed in me, even when I forgot to believe in myself.” I reach out, covering one of his hands with mine.
“You two are lucky to have each other then,” Liv says. She reaches out and takes my hand. “Come on. He’ll be safe down here.”
We exit the lab and the floor of the ballroom closes back up, sealing Michael down where no one will bother him while the transformation back to human takes place.
We walk out onto the veranda and settle onto a swing. The night comes quickly, but the air only cools slightly. I can hear the cicadas chirping loudly, and the smell of magnolias and rotting wood heavily scent the air.
“I’m sorry dealing with all of this drama is taking so long,” I say as I fold my hands in my lap. “I know it can’t be easy for you to be away from Ian for this long.”
Alivia shrugs. “Of course I miss him and want him home,” she says as she looks out at the lights that dot the horizon, the state border of Louisiana. “But then I remind myself that I literally have forever with him. What’s a couple of weeks or months?”
I shake my head, a little smile pulling on my lips. “You two are so lucky,” I say. “I don’t want the rest of the symptoms, but I wouldn’t complain too much about the getting to spend forever with Lexington part.”
She reaches over and takes my hand in hers. “You’re so amazing, Elle,” she says quietly. “I wish I could be more like you.”
“And here I’ve been trying to think like you the last few months.”
We both laugh, and together we sit in the moonlight, sisters of the heart.
The wedding will be in Boston, on my rooftop garden. It will be on the nineteenth of August, just three weeks away. Our honeymoon will be to Martha’s Vineyard. Seems safest to not go too far from home, considering my current condition.
Lexington and I decide we want a simple wedding. Only those very closest to us. The House of Martials. Michael. Liv and Ian. Cameron as Lexington’s best man. And Kai, if Cyrus has left the city by then.
The details really take very little time to plan out. Within two hours we’ve got everything squared away, and when it’s over, Lexington and I both smile this happy and contented grin. He takes my hand that afternoon and leads us down the property, out of view from the house. And we come to a little white gazebo that I don’t remember being there when I lived in the House.
A hammock has been hung from either end and Lexington climbs in, pulling me in after him. I nestle into his side, resting my head on his chest. He pulls his fingers through my hair gently.
“Marry me?” he asks quietly.
“Yes,” I answer him, smiling to myself.
He’s asked me that every day since Cyrus released him. And I understand why. He once asked a woman to marry him, but what he was became too much for her to handle. He’s giving me a way out, every day, a chance to change my mind. But he’s also asking for a
ffirmation, every day, that I still choose to be with him.
And I do.
“Someday we’re going to get a happy, peaceful, drama-free life,” Lexington says. He slides his fingers up and down my arm gently, causing goose bumps to rise on my flesh. “We’re going to go an entire week, with no blood and no Royalty stirring things up. No contact from any Houses. We’re just going to spend half of it in bed, being us.”
“That sounds amazing,” I say. “Like today. I think this was exactly what I needed.”
Lexington presses his lips to the top of my head, hugging me a little tighter. “I’m glad to see you like this. Makes me feel like I’m doing something right every once in a while. I promise I’m going to take care of you, but sometimes I feel like I’m failing.”
His words suddenly make my chest swell. I’m not the kind to want to be taken care of. I’m so stubborn and independent.
But I look up at Lexington, holding his eyes, and a realization hits me.
Being a couple, getting married, it means we are partners.
Equals. Sharing this burden of life. Holding each other up and supporting each other no matter what.
“Lexington,” I breathe, holding his gaze. “What you said before Cyrus took you away, did you really mean it?”
I shouldn’t even ask the question, because if I’ve learned anything about this man in the seven years that I’ve known him, is that he never says something he doesn’t mean.
He doesn’t answer me. And I know he doesn’t want to confess, because he doesn’t want to pressure me into anything. But his eyes scream the truth.
“Lexington,” I breathe his name once more as emotion hits the back of my eyes. “This baby needs a mother and a father. It needs a family.”
Tears well in my eyes and my vision swims.
“I want that to be us, Lexington,” I confess in a whisper. “I think I’m finally ready to be a mother. And I can’t think of anyone who will be a better father or someone who could love this child more than you could.”
Tears swim in Lexington’s own eyes, and he lets out a little breathy sob, just as his hand comes to the side of my face and his lips come to mine. I feel our tears mingle and mix as he nods against my mouth. Another crying breath escapes his lips.