Chaos Theory

by Susan Harris

  “Tristan said, ‘Well, feck it, let’s just call her Ryan. If she’s as badass as her mother, she can hand them their arses if they so much as try and mock her.’”

  I was bleeding into my chest, my fragile hold on sanity sending a wave of dizziness through my head as I tried to piece the words together. I felt as if I were floating, and I struggled with all my might to re-cage my feelings.

  Then, I realized the queen has sworn while trying to impersonate my father’s Irish accent, and I laughed. I laughed like I was crazy, doubling over until tears ran down my face. When the laughter had died, I straightened, but the tears, they still cascaded down my face. Bleary-eyed, I hiccupped, my chest burning as I stumbled backward.

  “Oh, Ryan.”

  And then I was undone. Unable to stand anymore and listen to how much my parents loved me. How much they wanted me. How much they expected of me. Stories meant to bring me peace simply added fuel to the rage simmering under the surface, waiting for its chance to be unleashed.

  I was struck by a memory of my father reading poetry to me before bed, as he often did—especially poets he admired. Curled up in my father’s strong arms, I listened as he recited Dylan Thomas, telling me to rage against the dying light. I understood those words more now than I ever did back then.

  My entire body trembled as I fought against the anger I had for the woman in front of me. It was unwarranted—ludicrous, in fact, considering I had made it my sworn mission to protect everything she stood for. Yet the little orphan girl in me wanted to rage against the woman in front of me for being the reason my parents were dead. If she hadn’t needed protecting, if her husband had been a warrior like my father, then maybe they wouldn’t be dead and I wouldn’t be a shell of the person I could have been; the person my parents expected me to be.

  As if she sensed a charge in the air, Katerina slipped her feet back into her heels, preparing to leave me to my rage. Before leaving she paused, hesitating as if she were going to rest a hand upon my shoulder.

  I’m grateful she didn’t but surprised when she speaks to me again.

  “There is a meeting of the Sovereignty Council at six tomorrow evening. I would like you to be there.”

  “Why?” The word fell from my lips.

  “Because I have asked it of you. Because you cannot continue to live as if you died too. Because I made a promise to my friend that I would always look out for you. Six o’clock, Ryan. Do not be late.”

  The queen left in a flurry of movement, and as the door closed with a bang all I could think was, Well, shit.

  4

  I was beginning to think I would never sleep again.

  After another fitful day of tossing and turning, wondering why the hell the queen requested I—neither a member of the council nor a fully-fledged Royal Guard—attend this meeting. I had no place sitting in on the Sovereignty Council meeting, no matter what the queen said.

  “Because you cannot continue to live as if you died too.”

  It was true; I wasn’t living. Those words played through my mind again and again, the weight of their truth punching me in the gut each time. I wasn’t so stupid I’d thought anything different, but I had no idea how to get out of my own way. I’d conditioned myself to this. It was a learned habit.

  I’d changed my clothes six times in the last hour, wondering what to wear to this thing. It wasn’t a formal meeting, so my dress uniform would be overkill. However, I felt underdressed in jeans or leggings. Finally, I decided to just wear a pair of black training pants and a black, long-sleeved T-shirt. I refrained from adding extra spray to my hair because I knew I would stand out enough by just being there.

  As the clock reached ten minutes to six, I huffed out a breath and made my way downstairs to the foyer. I stood at the base of the stairs, watching as members of the Royal Guard made their way into the meeting.

  “Well, if it isn’t Ryan Callan, looking just as much trouble as the last time I saw her!”

  A genuine smile lit up my features as I came down the remaining step and embraced the man who’d just sauntered in the door. Jack O’Reilly was an old friend of my father’s, an Irish vampire with hair the color of carrots and cheeks adorned with freckles. He was the most quintessential Irishman I’d ever laid eyes on and every bit the lovable rogue my father had once called him.

  “Hey, Jack.”

  The soldier wrapped me into a warm hug, and I let him because I had not seen him in an awfully long time. Plus, he was one of the few people I could stand to be around.

  “Hello, kiddo,” he said with a grin, releasing me to get a better look. “Now, are you gonna tell an old man you heard I was coming and just had to see me? C’mon now, don’t break an ole man’s heart.”

  I laughed before I could stop myself, alerting other people in the foyer of my presence and earning a few looks. “You are terrible,” I said with a smile.

  “But you still love me, though?”

  Atticus interrupted our reunion and beckoned Jack in, holding the door open for his fellow guard.

  “Will I see you after?” Jack asked.

  “Actually,” I said with a sly grin, “I’m to attend this shindig at the behest of the queen.”

  That stopped both men in their tracks, their mouths dropping open so much I could see a hint of fang. Jack recovered first, holding out his elbow to escort me into the room, and I took it, even if it was just to have someone to anchor me.

  Entering the room, I ducked my eyes as everyone turned to see what had Jack chuckling to himself. I’d never been in this room before on official business. Seated around the oval table were the male heads of the seven remaining families. First came Everett Hamilton, then Idris Nasir beside Cornelius Day, followed by Grant Reeser, Alistair Johnson, Theodore St. Clair, and finally Boris Smyrnoi.

  The members of the Royal Guard stood to attention behind them. Reece Hamilton stood by his father, as did Keegan Johnson, Atticus St. Clair, and Carter Reeser. Jack remained stoic by my side.

  I was fairly sure the council members were wondering why I was here, and, soon enough, one questioned me as Jack held out the last chair for me.

  “Child…” Everett Hamilton said, sneering as if I were something he’d scraped off his shoe. “Why are you here?”

  “Ryan.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Did I stutter?”

  A bubble of laughter rippled through the room at my audacity, and heat flared up Everett’s neck.

  I sighed, leaning forward to rest my chin in my hands. “If you want to ask me a question, please use my name. It’s Ryan by the way, not child or girl or any other way you think you can address me. Just Ryan. It’s not hard to say.”

  “You insolent girl.”

  I rolled my eyes and sat back in my chair, then felt a reassuring pat on the back from Jack as I folded my arms across my chest.

  Leaning in to whisper in my ear, Jack’s tone was teasing as he chortled, “Damn, I forgot how much fun you were to be around, Ryan.”

  I made to answer when a voice cut across us.

  “Can someone tell me why one who is neither a council member nor a Royal Guard is sitting in on our very confidential meeting?”

  I was on a roll already, so I grinned, ready to unleash more sarcasm on them when a voice sounds from behind me.

  “I asked Ryan to be here.”

  The men bristled at the sound of the queen’s voice, and I felt my lips twitch but refrained from flashing another grin at the shocked vampires. I didn’t glance up but did make to stand, hesitating when Katerina motioned for me to remain seated.

  I noticed Anatoly was missing, but in his place stood Nickolai, who was studying me with such intensity I felt my face heat. Looking down at my hands, I glanced back up at the scrape of a chair as Nickolai set a chair at the top for his mother.

  Once the queen was settled, she tapped a nail on the table, and everyone jerked to attention. Katerina inclined her head toward Boris, whose eyes darted to me before he addresse
d the queen.

  “My Liege,” he began, his Russian accent making the words sound shorter, “what we are to discuss is a matter of grave importance. Confidentiality is key. We cannot have information like this passed around as girlish gossip.”

  I snorted, then remembered where I was, quickly sobering and letting my mask fall back into place.

  The queen simply gave Boris a friendly smile. “Ryan will be model of discretion, won’t you, Ryan?”

  “Of course, My Liege.”

  “Then continue, Boris.”

  I sat and listened as Boris read from a report about the impact of blood shortages, the inability to find willing donors, and the prediction that, if trends in technology continued as they were, vampires would have no food sources for survival within a decade.

  Nothing he said was news to me. Movies and TV had killed the allure of vampires years ago. We were no longer seductive creatures who played on a human’s lust for the supernatural. No longer revered as we once were, we’d been reduced to being mocked and ridiculed as sparkly, broody messes.

  “Perhaps it is time to reintroduce the breeding farms our ancestors used to enforce.” The suggestion came from Idris, a vampire with skin that looked sun-kissed even if he’d never walked underneath its rays.

  “That is not an option,” Katerina replied. “We are more civilized than our ancestors, and we will not resort to taking them by force. At our last meeting, we discussed integration with the humans. Has anyone ideas on ways to do so?”

  “The humans may be less skeptical in this dawn of technological advancement, more willing to accept a new species into their midst,” Boris said, “but we all remember the Salem witch trials and how well they went. What’s to stop a budding Van Helsing from taking up arms against us?”

  “We need to build their trust,” I replied, then blinked at the sound of my own voice. Surely, I hadn’t said it out loud.

  When the entire council turned toward me, I cursed myself silently for not having the good graces to keep my thoughts to myself. I held up a hand in apology as the heads of the families glared at me, wishing I could shrink back into the shadows.

  “Please explain what it is you meant, Ryan,” Katerina said.

  When I hesitated, the queen offered me a warm smile of encouragement. Glancing down at my hands, I explained, “Well, you can’t just come right out and say, ‘Hi, here be vampires.’” That earned a chortle from the room, and I relaxed a bit. “Shoving vampires in their faces will do none of us any good. The older generations are hardened by war and by life. You need to slowly introduce a person into society who can appeal to, say, college-age humans, who are hungry for knowledge and experiences.”

  I took a breath, checking to see if I still had everyone’s attention. I was surprised to find I did, so I carried on while I had the chance. “Let this Chosen One make friends with the humans, let them immerse themselves in human society and then, if they determine it’s possible for us to be part of that world, we can make ourselves and our plight known to mankind.”

  Not a soul said a word in response. They all stared as if I’d said the most bizarre and outlandish thing known to vampires, as if I had no right to be here let alone speak. Perhaps I didn’t, but I couldn’t take back my words or go back in time.

  “I’ll do it.”

  My head snapped in the direction of the voice, and I blurted out, “Say what?”

  Nickolai ignored me, peering down at his mother. “I will do it.”

  “My Liege,” Theodore St. Clair interjected, “you cannot expect us to endorse sending our future monarch into the human world by himself. What if you are discovered and, Eve forbid, killed?”

  “Then you would be lucky my mother has another son to take my place, and I would no longer feel insulted you have so little faith in me.”

  Score one for the crown prince.

  Reaching up, Katerina clasped her son’s elbow, and I flinched at the tenderness in her gaze—a mother’s gaze. “Explain to me why I should let you.”

  “Ryan is right; subtlety is key. Who would think anything of a rich college kid attending classes by night, mixing with the locals as his parents go off on a diplomatic mission and leave their son, who has a sun allergy—”

  “Photosensitivity is what it’s called.” Again, I needed to learn to think before I spoke.

  Nickolai smiled before he continued. “A son who suffers from severe photosensitivity and can only attend classes by night on a generous donation from his wealthy parents. I’ve been around politics my entire life; I can mix with humans.”

  I had a sneaking suspicion the queen and her son had already made this decision and it was a done deal, even if we liked to paint ourselves as living in a vampocracy. And if I had the brains to figure that out then so did the rest of the council… although I couldn’t be sure.

  “My Lieges,” Cornelius Day said, “when we discussed the possibility of this plan, I should have been clearer I was suggesting we send one of the trainees. They are of the right age.” Cornelius looked appalled at the thought of his plan putting the crown prince in danger.

  “So am I,” replied Nickolai.

  I could tell, just by the tone of his voice, that Nickolai was set on being the guinea pig, the knight who’d ride in and save the vampire race by leading the charge into the human world. I’d heard that tone many times as a girl, when Nickolai was convinced he could do what no other vampire could do. It usually resulted in a broken arm and a telling-off from our parents.

  This, however, was bigger than any of those reckless adventures.

  When no one else spoke up, Nickolai’s lips curved into a grin. “Good. Then it’s settled. Cornelius, I will leave the finer points to you. Don’t sign me up for any boring classes if you can avoid it.”

  Nickolai swiveled on the spot and began heading for the door, but Idris beckoned him back. I inhaled a breath of surprise at the smugness in Idris’s smile to our future king and the utmost lack of respect in his tone.

  “Pardon me, My Liege, but there is one matter than needs to be discussed before the council can sign off on this… shall we call it, humanitarian trip of yours.”

  Nickolai folded his arms across his broad chest and glared at Idris. “And what is that?”

  “The matter of your ascension, My Prince. You are two years from ascending the throne and taking a queen. If this mission of yours takes time, do you plan to not ascend and take a bride? Are we just to forget our traditions and laws?”

  A ripple of aggression thickened the air in the room to near suffocating, and I sucked in another breath, wondering what might happen next. My eyes drifted to the queen, who looked unaffected by all the men tossing around testosterone. She greeted my gaze with an arched brow and a smile, and I smothered a laugh, wishing I had some popcorn to enjoy while watching all this unfold.

  “What is the point of being king, dear Idris, if I have no vampires left to rule over? What would be the point in taking a wife for our children to die of starvation before our eyes? If you are so desperate to keep up with tradition, then perhaps I should, as I have offered before, step aside and let Kristoph be your king when he comes of age.”

  Katerina held up her hand, and instantly the brewing storm in the room calmed. She paused, letting time further defuse the ticking time bomb before she spoke.

  “There is no law as to when a new reign begins. It is a courtesy as to when one monarch steps down and another takes their place. Have I been such a bad queen that you wish to replace me as soon as possible? That you would stifle the progress of our entire species because you wish to have me deposed?”

  “I meant no offense, My Liege. I merely feel that now, in a time where panic and chaos may reign supreme, that our traditions, our values, will see us forward during this crisis.”

  “As my son said, Idris, there will be no traditions or values to keep you warm during the day if we are wiped from existence.”

  Ding, ding, ding. Bonus point to our queen.

>   “Mother, you and I have discussed this, and we agreed. Do you still have faith in me to do this?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, her utter pride, love, and faith in her son audible to all.

  “And my stipulation?”

  “It will be granted.”

  “Then I have no more to say on the matter.” With that, Nickolai swept from the room, taking all air with him.

  I sat quietly, still wondering why the hell I’d been compelled to attend this meeting, but now also curious as to what Nickolai would have asked of his mother in order to wander out into the world by himself.

  “My Liege, are you seriously sending our crown prince into the human world all by himself with no support from those who’ve sworn to protect him?”

  The queen beamed at his words, as if she’d been waiting for just this moment to unveil the last twist in her tale. With a gleam in her eyes, she uttered a sentence that splintered my world in two.

  “Of course not, gentlemen. Ryan will be there to watch over him.”

  Every single goddamned eye turned on me, causing me to squirm in my seat under the scrutiny. I had the good graces to remain silent, ignoring the chuckle from Jack as the heads of the council threw questions at the queen, who simply reclined in her chair and, like me, said not a single word.

  My heart began to beat a drum against my chest. Katerina was looking at me, really looking at me, and I knew this was what she must have planned all along. Last night, when she’d spoken to me, she must have known she was about to throw me under the bus and cause ructions within the council.

  I wasn’t entirely certain what her game plan was, just that I was not happy being a piece on her chessboard.

  “You mean to send this girl as your son’s only protection against the outside world?”

  The queen lifted her head, her eyes finding Atticus St. Clair. “Atticus, please tell the council who is top of their class in multiple disciplines?”