by Keary Taylor
“Good,” he says. He takes my hand in his. “Now come. After all that work, I am tired and would like you to join me in your chambers.”
The look on Danielle’s face is appalled. And I’m ashamed for just a moment, before I remind myself I am her ruler and sire. “Don’t leave the house,” I tell her as Cyrus begins leading me up the stairs. “And don’t break anything. I expect you to behave.”
She glares at me all the way up the stairs until she falls out of view.
Together, hand in hand like we are indeed husband and wife, we walk down the hall, past the rooms of many others. Open the door, and step inside.
I feel the pressure. The intensity of what this should be. The two of us. The expectations built over centuries.
Cyrus and I go through our routine again of brushing teeth, changing into pajamas. And I tuck myself into his side in my bed.
He runs a hand up my cheek, into my hair, studying my lips.
“Have any memories begun to surface yet?” he asks quietly.
“Not yet,” I whisper back. And that spell he’s had over me since he arrived a week and a half ago, it seems to be weakening. I am pulled to the King, my body is certainly reacting to his closeness. But I don’t find myself hoping memories of a past life will surface. “Cyrus, what will you do if I am not Sevan?”
His fingers tangle in my hair and he pulls me closer to press a kiss to my forehead. “I will keep looking. For that is all I can do.”
And with no more words, we settle into the darkness behind my closed off windows. Cyrus holds me close. And I lie with the man I am certain is not my husband.
CYRUS STILL SLEEPS WHEN I wake, not three hours later. I swear I hear the front door open and close. Careful not to wake the King, I slip out of the bed and pad down the stairs in my pajamas.
A trail of snow rushes into the foyer. My enhanced hearing identifies two bodies in the library.
My heart thunders in my chest when my eyes catch sight of Raheem. His eyes rise to meet mine from beneath those thick, dark lashes and a smile cracks his lips. Suddenly, I’m back in the middle of the road in town, just three days ago. And I want more of our forbidden kisses.
“You’re back,” I breathe.
“I told you it wouldn’t take me long,” he says. The smile fades as he gets control over his desire. And he has to. Because sitting in a chair in the corner, is Danielle. And standing just to the side of Raheem, is another man.
His hair is longer, reaching his shoulders. It’s in unwashed tendrils. His entire body is filthy, as if he hasn’t showered in weeks. He wears nothing more than black pants and a sleeveless shirt with a black vest. Dirt coats his arms, smudges his face. Dark eyes are barely visible through the way he seems to be squinting, crow’s feet spreading around them.
“This is Danny,” Raheem offers, stepping aside and holding a hand out in the newcomers direction. “Danny, this is Alivia Conrath.”
He does little more than grunts at me, those narrow eyes observing every move I make.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, extending a hand out to shake. Danny doesn’t accept it, so I drop it awkwardly. “I apologize for my appearance. I just woke and wasn’t expecting anyone to return today.”
“What people wear has done little to impress me in the past,” Danny says. His voice is shocking. Rough. Rougher than any other voice I’ve heard. Like he’s smoked since he was two and screamed his lungs out in a rock band. But his southern accent is smooth as butter. “That ain’t gonna change now.”
“Oh,” I say. “Well, thanks.”
I sit in a chair, crossing my legs and watching as Raheem sits across from me. Danny, however, chooses to stand. He looks around the place like he’s searching for all the emergency exits.
“Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” I say. “I assume Raheem has told you all about me.”
“He did,” Danny says as he walks over to the portrait of my father. “You look like your dad.”
“I do,” I nod in agreement. Danny strikes me as the type who doesn’t reveal much about himself. I’m going to have to drag the details out of him. “How about you? Did you know your father?”
Danny grunts again. His eyes shift to the urns on the shelf beside Henry’s picture. “I didn’t have a father. Just a sperm donor.”
“I assume you don’t mean that literally,” I say. I watch Danielle eying Danny, like she’s ready to pounce on him. And I wonder, are her instincts and Debt telling her to protect me?
“You assume correctly,” he says. He pulls a cigarette from his vest pocket and places it between his lips, though he doesn’t make a move to light it. “Enough with the twenty questions. I just need to ask you one question and then I’ll know if I really want to join you.”
“And what question is that?” I ask. Suddenly, I’m nervous. It was hard enough earning the loyalty of my six House members. Now, I’m going to have to do it with fourteen new ones.
“Do you plan on ever feeding off of and killin’ any kids?”
The question is so stark and unexpected, that it takes me a few moments to answer. “Of course not. I would never.”
Danny’s eyes rise to meet mine. “Okay,” he says. The cigarette bounces in his mouth. “Then I’ll join you and your little House. On one condition.”
“What’s that?” I ask. My heart rate spikes. I don’t like negotiating when I’m supposed to be the leader in charge.
“That you don’t ask where I go durin’ the day,” he says. He reaches into his pocket again and produces a lighter. He sparks the flame, but doesn’t light the cigarette. “You can agree to that, and you’ve got yourself a loyal subject.”
I consider it for a long time. He’s obviously got some kind of mission during the day, which is surprising, considering our kind. But I look up at Raheem, searching his eyes for assurance. He nods, and if Raheem thinks he’s good enough to join my House, that’s good enough for me.
“You should know that trust is a very important value to me,” I say as I meet Danny’s eyes. “If I let you know that you can trust me, can I trust you?”
He looks at me long and hard. And for some reason, I get the feeling that this rough and dirty man can tell the difference between a good and a bad person. The fact that he hesitates so long lets me know that I am toeing that line.
“Okay,” he says. He finally does extend a hand forward. “We got ourselves a deal.”
I shake his hand. “Thank you,” I say. “You’re welcome to move into the house, though with the Court here, we don’t have much extra room. You’re can stay in my office temporarily.”
“Nah,” he says as he stands. “I’ll stay outside. That’s where I’m used to being, anyway.”
“But it’s negative temperatures out there,” I say, an amused expression creeping up on my face.
“Since when did the cold bother a vampire?” he says, and a smile tugs at one side of his face. It’s kind of endearing on such a rough character.
“As you wish.”
Danny walks past me, pulling on some sun goggles just before he walks back outside.
“What part of the bayou did you drag him out of?” Danielle asks as she comes to sit on the couch beside Raheem. She stretches her arms out across the back, her legs crossed in front of her.
“Yours?” Raheem questions with an eyebrow cocked.
“Unfortunately,” I say, which earns me a glare.
“Most,” he agrees. Raheem’s feelings for the Bitten are quite clear: they shouldn’t exist. But instead of arguing it out with me, he begins to explain. “Danny is a hunter, of what, I’m not entirely sure. I only observed him for a day, but I could tell he’s a good man. He’ll remain loyal as long as you do what you say.”
“Where’d you find him?” I ask, keeping my voice low, even though it’s pointless. If Danny is within ten yards of the house, he’ll hear us.
“Georgia backwoods,” Raheem says. “I found him the first day. Took a day to explain everything to h
im—the monarchy, the House system. He knew what he was, had met a few others like him, but didn’t know anything about our system. I think he liked the idea of a family.”
“We’ll give him that if we can trust him,” I say, looking in the direction he left.
The moment grows quiet and I look back at Raheem. He studies me, and it’s so very dangerous.
“Danielle,” I say. “Why don’t you take this time to familiarize yourself with the grounds. There’s a pair of sun goggles by the front door. Take your time.”
“I have to hide from the damn sun now,” she says with disdain. “This is so jacked up.” But she stands, heads to the front door, and out it.
And then, the two of us are left relatively alone.
“How are you?” Raheem asks. He scoots forward, to the edge of the couch. I find myself doing the same on my chair. It’s still too much distance between us.
“Okay,” I answer honestly. “A bit overwhelmed, maybe. But I’m handling it all.”
“What can I do to help?” he asks. Bringing me once again into this fold. Encouraging me to be who I am, and going along for the ride.
A smile cracks on my lips. It feels so amazing, to have this acceptance. The one person in the world who seems me for who I am.
I so very badly want to close that distance between he and I. I want to place my hands on his chest and feel that he is real. That he’s not just a figment of my imagination.
But I can’t. Because it will bring his possible and very likely death if I do. For Cyrus rests just upstairs.
“I need to figure out what to do with Jasmine,” I say instead, because he asked the question. “She’s locked up. Cyrus has commanded her Bitten to ready Elijah’s house for the new House members that are coming. But that’s only going to last so long. We will have to deal with them. Her.”
“The King will not let the Bitten live,” Raheem says. He stands, walking around behind the couch and placing his hands on the back of it.
“I know that,” I say with a nod. “Cyrus has already said so. But…I think what happens with Jasmine needs to be my choice. And I don’t know what I want.”
Raheem studies me, those dark, poignant eyes searching my soul. It’s like he can see clean through me, to the dark parts of me that grow darker by the day. “There are three ways to deal with one’s enemies: death, revenge, and forgiveness. I think you’ve already executed revenge. You’ve taken everything from her. So which do you move onto now? Death? Or forgiveness?”
It really is so stark and simple as that, isn’t it? I either release her and move on from this, or I let Cyrus kill her, or kill her myself.
“I don’t know that I can ever forgive her,” I say, shaking my head. “She killed Ian. She tried to manipulate me. She dug up my mother and had her delivered to my front steps. She’s killed so many people in this town, tried to turn them against me.”
I blink twice, taking in three deep breaths. “But I don’t know if I can kill her, either.”
“Why?” Raheem asks, but his tone is gentle, inviting me to explore the explanation for my answer.
“Because she’s just desperate,” I breathe. And there’s a little voice in the back of my head that feels sorry for her. “She’s just clinging to what she had and what she knows. I don’t know if I blame her for that.”
Raheem walks around the couch once again. He kneels before me and takes one of my hands in his. “And this is one of the many reasons why you are a great ruler, Alivia. You possess both coercion and compassion, and that does not occur often.”
“You’ve returned already.”
My heart leaps into my throat and I jump in my seat, snatching my hand out of Raheem’s. I whip around to see Cyrus standing in the entryway of the library, observing the two of us with much concern and interest.
“Yes, your majesty,” Raheem says as he stands, very calmly, and bows his head just slightly. “I’ve brought Alivia a new subject. He’s just outside if you’d like to speak with him.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Cyrus says. His eyes bore into Raheem, as if he can read into Raheem’s soul and pull out the answers to the questions that are tumbling through his head.
My heart continues to pound, sweat breaking out onto my palms.
“What’s wrong, my dear?” Cyrus asks, his eyes suddenly whipping to mine. “You seem…nervous.”
I swallow once, and realize my fingers are digging into the padding and fabric of the chair’s arms. I release at once and force my heart to calm, which it instantly does. “I’m just anticipating all the new members who will be arriving shortly. I guess it’s just got me a little on edge.”
It’s only a little bit of a lie.
Cyrus walks into the library slowly. He stops in front of me and crouches to kneel before me, mirroring Raheem’s previous position exactly. The breath catches in my throat as he takes one of my hands in his. “Do not be afraid, my darling,” he says. And that look in his eyes tells me he feels betrayed. He’ll be watching our every move from here on out. “I will be here to assist you, every step of the way.”
“Thank you,” I say around the dryness in my mouth.
“Of course.” He offers me a small, terrifying smile.
Raheem was right. Any little move, any little mistake, will get him killed. And once Cyrus realizes I am not his wife, what’s to keep him from killing me, too?
THE DAYS THAT SLOWLY PASS after Raheem’s return are tense and strained. Raheem and I are careful to not even look at each other, and never speak unless absolutely necessary. There will be no more mistakes.
And I know I’m a horrible person when it’s not as difficult to stay away as it should be.
Jasmine is kept in the well prison. I check on her once a day and when I do, she won’t even look up at me. With each passing day, I see the black veins stretch from her face, creep down her neck, stretch onto her chest and arms. It’s only been a few days, and she already looks like she’s dying from lack of blood.
Cyrus and I go to observe the renovation of the Southern house—which he dubs as the Institute—as the Bitten work on it. The broken windows are replaced. The trees pushing the house down on the northern wing are taken down. Walls are patched. The chimney repaired. The walls in every room are given a fresh coat of paint.
With thirteen bodies, the work goes quickly. Within a week and a half, it has come back to life. It is still far from the House, but it’s beautiful. Livable.
On the fifth day of Cyrus’ game, X returns with identical twin girls, both eager to be associated with Royalty. Sebastian returns the next day with what is little more than a child, a boy the age of twelve, just three days post resurrection.
Three other Court members return with new House members. And I begin to grow worried that my family will not be up to this task since none of them have returned. But as the sun almost rises on the ninth day, Anna walks out of woods to the north of the Estate with a man in tow.
I introduce myself to each of these newcomers. Speak with them for an hour or so. The King stays at my side the entire time, bearing in as a heavy weight and a force they cannot say no to.
I hate that it happens this way. That they truly do not get any choice in this matter. They join or face the wrath of a King.
Fear creeps into my stomach as day ten arrives, and still only Anna has returned.
“They will come,” she assures me as we sit on the front porch in the middle of the night. My breath creates heavy clouds around me as I breathe deep and hard. My eyes scan the property, praying for signs of movement.
“There’s only four more days,” I say. “That’s not very much time.”
“They will come,” she repeats as she places a hand on my shoulder.
As she speaks, I hear movement by the gate. Slowly, Markov and Samuel come walking up the drive. There’s a woman beside Markov. Older, with hair down to her waist. And a man with Samuel, who is covered in tattoos.
I jump from the steps and fling myself at S
amuel. “You made it,” I say gleefully. My heart is doing backflips. I move on to Markov.
“You doubted us?” Samuel says in mock offense. “Don’t forget, you’re the baby in this House.”
I laugh, so very relieved to have my family return to me.
By the eleventh day, everyone from court has returned except the big bearded man that arrived with X the first night—and Nial and Lillian. I try not to panic.
By day twelve, the work on the Institute is completed. Still, Nial and Lillian have not returned.
On day fourteen, my heart sinks into my feet and disappears into a cold puddle.
They’re not going to make it back in time.
I’m going to lose them.
On that fourteenth day, Cyrus orders all of the Bitten to come to my House. They stand around, terrified. Looking exhausted.
And, I feel sorry for them. None of them had any choice in this. They all have been slaves these past few weeks, first to Jasmine, second to the King.
“Gather around, everyone!” Cyrus bellows from the ballroom. I’m up in my office talking with Markov and Samuel about tracking down Nial and Lillian when we hear his voice bellow throughout the House. “We have a special treat today!”
“This can’t be good,” Samuel says quietly as the three of us exit the office and head down the stairs.
There are so many bodies in this House now. With my returned House members, almost all the Court members, and thirteen new subjects, there are twenty-nine vampires and Rath. Plus, fourteen Bitten. It’s a good thing the Institute is finished. It’s getting overly crowded in here, even with such a big house.
I walk into the ballroom to find Jasmine standing beside Cyrus. Her face is drained of color, black veins covering her face and neck, and I can smell the fear rolling off of her.
“Thank you so much for joining us,” Cyrus says with a disingenuous smile. “I’m very proud of the hard work you’ve all done the past week and a half. You’ve done well. And to those who have joined the House of Conrath, welcome.”
The newcomers shift uncomfortably. I do wonder how many of them will desert me the second Cyrus leaves Silent Bend. Fear only controls people for so long.