I left behind the pair of pants I’d worn when I’d first woken, the ones that were torn half to shreds. The fabric still carried her sweet scent, as did my shirt, and my skin. I could still taste her on my tongue, see her when I closed my eyes.
What would it mean to do as she requested? What would it mean to rule by her side? Could I guide her without losing who I was? Could I get close without reverting to what I once was? Passion was a loss of self-control, and that’s exactly what she was to me—intense passion. The truth was, no matter what it did to me, I was undeniably drawn to her. I didn't know what would happen, or how it would work, but I had to try. I couldn’t walk away, even if I wanted to.
Heavy footfalls echoed down the stairwell and through the halls. Someone was coming, and it wasn’t Ashley. I listened and waited.
“Hey, girlfriend. Come on over. Hey, girlfriend. It’s me.”
I recognized the voice. It was the man who’d come for Ashley in the training room, the one who’d run away from me, and the one who’d called me Pop-Pop—Walter’s progeny, Charlie. He was the only one of the newly sired that I had yet to officially meet.
“Got pizza, and streamin’. Get lovin’ all fo’ free.”
I followed the off-key singing down the dark halls, past the dungeon, until I found Charlie by the incinerator. The fire blazed within, heating the room like Hades itself.
The blond mop of hair on the top of Charlie’s head bounced back and forth as he swayed and thrust his body to the music that blared into his ears. It was so loud I could hear the noise from five feet away. His back was turned so he didn’t notice me enter, though with music roaring in his ears, I was unsure he would have noticed an elephant.
Before him was a sheet-wrapped form on the floor by the rollers. I stared at the sheet, wondering who lay beneath. I didn't have to wonder long before the corner fell, and his face was revealed.
The head tilted unnaturally, unconnected to the shoulders. I recognized the damage as much as the brown curls—Ronaldo, the guard I’d killed.
It had been for her, for Ashley’s life that I’d taken his. I’d do it again a thousand times over, but the weight of the act was heavy on my soul. I wished it hadn’t happened. I wished I’d found the restraint to leave him alive, though if I had, the poison may have remained in Ashley’s system too long. It was both futile and inevitable to replay the events in my head. Nothing would change. Another man had died by my hands.
Charlie froze, and pulled the strings from his ears. Music poured out of the ends, as he struggled with the glass rectangle in his pocket.
“Hey,” he said. “Um, sorry. I didn’t know you were here.”
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” I replied.
“It’s all good, really,” Charlie said. “How can I, uh, help you?” His free spirit was gone, replaced by stiffness.
“We haven’t officially met,” I said.
“Oh, yeah, sure.” He wiped his hands on his pants, then held one out to me. “Charlie,” he said. “Charlie Bloom.”
“Tyr—”
“Yeah, I figured as much,” he said, as we shook. “You’re the talk of the place, not just the estate, but of Scarlet Harbor. They’re lining up, you know, to speak to the great and powerful Oz—you. I mean you, Pop-Pop.” He faked a cough and ran his fingers through his hair. “Walter or Bennet are probably keeping them away, shooing them with brooms or something while we do the whole secure-the-estate business.”
“Is that so?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “Everyone’s got mad love for you. Are you everything that they say?”
“What do they say?”
“Tyr was fair. Tyr’s the best. I don’t know. Good things,” he said. The tight set of his jaw told me he wasn’t so sure.
“And what do you think?” I asked.
He stared at me a moment, as if he needed to get up the nerve. Then he glanced at the incinerator, and the eighteen-hundred-degree fire burning inside. Had I retained the ability to sweat, I would have been soaked.
“I don’t know.” He puffed out his chest, and stood a little taller. “I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“Fair enough,” I replied. “May I help you with your chore?”
He looked down at the bodies. “Yeah, okay.”
I lifted the feet as Charlie took the shoulders. We set Ronaldo’s body on the metal track that carried the corpse slowly into the flames. Images of the encounter with the deceased flashed through my mind. It had been him or Ashley. As much as I abhorred killing, it was worth it. She was worth it. I swallowed the burning acid that filled my throat, and left my feelings where they belonged—hidden beneath an unflinching exterior.
“What are your plans, now that you’re back?” Charlie asked.
“I hadn’t made any,” I said, “though it is good to see my family once again, to have the opportunity to meet those who joined the bloodline while I was away.”
“And the queen?” Charlie asked. “What are your intentions with Ashley?” That was it, what had him uneasy around me. He wished to protect her.
“Sounds like a father determining the worthiness of his daughter’s suitor,” I said, “or a suitor sizing up the competition.”
“No,” Charlie said, shaking his head emphatically. “I mean, kind of, and no.”
I weighed the way his shoulders pulled back, the lines that formed on his forehead, as he tried to explain.
“We’re friends,” he said. “Good friends, like family or something. I’m not trying to date her. I have someone else. And I love her—Angel.”
“Everyone should be so lucky as to find love. It’s fragile, fleeting.”
“Sure,” he said. “But that has nothing to do with me and Ashley. I just want to make sure you aren’t here to trick her or hurt her.”
“I assure you, I’m not.”
“Good,” he said. “Then I’ve got no beef with you.”
“Nor I with you,” I said.
We lifted the second body onto the track, this one belonging to the prisoner.
“How did you end up on disposal duty?” I asked.
“I’m just the errand boy,” Charlie said, “it’s been that way all along.”
“And if you don’t mind me asking, how did you and Walter meet?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you,” Charlie said, “but my story isn’t an exciting one.”
“If only we were all so lucky,” I said with a smile that was meant to be reassuring.
It was difficult to remain so close to the flames, so close to the deceased. But I wanted to know Charlie, and this was my chance.
Charlie smiled back, put his hands in his pockets, and leaned against the wall.
“Having Walter as a sire isn’t always easy,” he said.
“He can be…rough around the edges,” I said.
“But he’s a good guy underneath it all,” Charlie replied. “I wouldn’t have guessed that when we first met. He terrified me. Okay maybe he still does at times, but then, I mean, piss-your-pants scared.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“I was playing a show,” Charlie said, “drummer for Squirrely Sandnuggets.” He nodded and grinned like that was supposed to mean something to me.
“We were kind of a big deal back in the day, for the local scene. I’m sure you would have heard of us if you’d been, you know, not in the ocean.”
He laughed uncomfortably, then continued.
“We playing a show at the Stink Hole—it’s a club, pretty good gig. Anyway, I was pounding on my drums hard, and the crowd was lovin’ it as much as special sauce on a cheesy quarter-pounder. You know that one, right? Well, I see this blonde. She’s everything I look for in a babe—perky tits, wide hips, short skirt, and lust in her eyes. Everyone else was drinking and head banging and whatnot. But not her. She was watching me.”
“Is Angel blond as well?” I asked.
“Damn right,” he said with another laugh. “But this chick, I remember watching
her, like I was only playing for her. Then BAM I wake up in the alley, all dizzy and confused, and she’s walking away. I’m calling for her to come back, because I’m pretty sure we haven’t had sex yet, when I hear a woman crying. I sprang to my feet to save her. That’s when I met Walter.”
“He was in the alley as well?” I asked.
“He was tearing into her neck, only I didn’t know until I got close. I demanded he let her go. Which he did, but only to laugh—this sick blood-curdling sound that literally made me pee my pants.”
If it were my story, I may have omitted that detail.
“He looks at my neck, which happens to be all sticky with blood, which I don’t even know until I touch it. But I threaten him to let her go or I’ll kick his ass.”
“Did you attempt to do so?” I asked.
“Pretty sure I didn’t get the chance,” Charlie said. “Next thing I know, I’m climbing out of the dirt in the garden out back, have no idea where I am, and my stomach is as messed up as my head.”
“Why do you think he chose you to be his progeny?” I asked.
“He liked my spirit,” Charlie said. “His words. Though if you asked him, who knows what he’d tell you. He closes his eyes a lot, like I’m a teenage daughter that he can’t seem to handle. I kind of enjoy torturing him. Just a little.”
“I bet it’s good for him.”
“Haha, I think so too,” Charlie said. “You know, I guess that makes you my grandsire or something.”
“That it does.”
“Is it weird coming back and having a bunch of grandkids running around the house, Pops?” he asked. “All of us that you didn’t even know existed?”
“A little,” I admitted. “I’m glad to see my progenies flourish, and find comfort in the company of others.”
“I guess everyone is finding their amor aeternuses…aeterni? Whatever it is.”
“Simply amor aeternus.”
“Even when it means more than one?” Charlie asked.
“Yes.”
“Thanks, Gramps,” he laughed. “Good to have you back.”
“It has been pleasant to meet you as well.”
“You’re good in my book,” he said. “But remember, you hurt Ashley, and I’ll kick your ass.”
He laughed again, though the sentiment was clearly sincere. I respected the loyalty he showed her.
“You should really invest in electricity down here. I mean to afford a place like this, you’ve got to have the cash for it,” he said. “Back to work for me.”
He raised his hand in a wave, grabbed the torch from the wall, and walked away, back the way he had come. He restarted his music and put the wires back in his ears.
“Hey, girlfriend. Come on over. Hey, girlfriend. It’s me,” he sang, as the off-key words echoed down the empty halls.
Chapter Nineteen
Ashley
Never underestimate the power of lipstick. With a fresh layer of sparkling raspberry red on my lips, I had the confidence of a queen. The long, flowy skirt, thigh-high boots, and french braid helped too. I was ready to take on the world, or at least the endless stream of drama that came with my position.
It was Tyr. He’d changed everything. I’d found a partner in all of this, not one who was helping me because he had to, but one who liked me for me. At least I hoped so. Part of me wondered if this could be more, if I had found my amor aeternus. But the self-doubting nag in the back of my head told me not to be so silly. We’d only just met. Hot sex was one thing, an immortal bond was something else altogether.
My boots met the floor soundlessly as I walked down the steps. All the bullet holes had been fixed throughout the estate, except for in the training room. It was strange to see the paint and wallpaper matched so flawlessly that it looked like those New York jerks were never even here at all.
I wished Tyr had been here at that battle. What did he think about everything that had happened? I tried to imagine what it had been like for him to be stuck in the water, but whatever I imagined was probably only a fraction of the truth. The same could be said about what he’d gone through in the past—losing everything, going mad with revenge, and the regret of it all. I couldn’t picture him doing those things, being the bad guy, because what I saw was strength and calm, understanding, and a gentle spirit full of regret.
I remembered the way his hand had felt in mine, the way he’d smiled at me and shown me the magic of the basement portal. He shared with me, and let me in. I also liked the way he looked at me when he pinned me against the door—like I was all that mattered.
I realized my feet were wandering as much as my mind when I stopped in front of the door to the throne room with no recollection of how I’d gotten there. It took a minute to recognize the man in front of me. Looking sharp and businesslike in a suit and tie, stood Orlando.
“Hey,” I said. “You look nice.”
“Thank you.”
“And you changed fast,” I said with a smile. “It was bad, huh? Sorry about that. I’m turning a new leaf.”
He smiled just a little, and remained stiff and formal. “Are you prepared to reinstate Visit Me hours?”
“That’s an option?” I asked. “I thought the whole world was being turned away at the door.”
“Bennet has cleared a few of those who’ve requested an audience,” Orlando said.
“That’s great,” I said. “Let’s get back to business. A little normalcy in routine would be awesome.”
Orlando opened the door and there was a vampire waiting on his knees on the floor before the dais.
I looked up to the soft, pretty chair, and down at the guy who looked like he was stuck worshipping it. It didn’t feel right.
I walked over to the side of the guy, and reached out a hand to him.
“Hi,” I said. “I’m Ashley King.”
He looked up at me with wide eyes. I guess I wasn’t what he had expected. Maybe that was a good thing.
He tentatively took the hand I offered, and rose to his feet. Standing on the same footing, he was about six inches taller than me, with a long, hooked nose, slicked back hair, and the kind of tweed suit that belonged on a car salesman.
“William Ketch,” he said.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Ketch?”
The balance of power felt different to be sure, with him looming over me. But it also felt okay, because I didn’t need to be up high to be epic. I could do that all on my own.
“There are rumors,” he said, “that the true ruler has returned.”
I felt my lips tighten into a line. He didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t care.
“Tyr’s home,” I said. “We’re working together.” The words felt good, honest, but I couldn’t elaborate. I didn’t know what else to say about our relationship—our partnership—beyond that, because I didn’t know myself.
“Really…” It wasn’t a question, more like a whoa-that’s-hard-to-believe kind of thing.
“Was there something I can help you with?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “I just had to know for sure.”
“Okay then,” I replied. “I guess we’re done then.”
“Yeah,” he said, then turned and walked away.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about the exchange. It wasn’t what I’d expected, that was for sure. There was a little nagging voice in the back of my head that repeated those words—true ruler. But I knew Tyr well enough to know that had I been in Ketch’s shoes, or anyone’s but my own, I would have been pretty stoked to see Tyr come home too. I mean, I hadn’t known him before, and being with him made me feel more complete than I’d ever been without him.
Orlando stared at me, no sign of his thoughts on his big, square face.
I smiled, and asked, “Anyone else?”
“There’s one more guest if you’re up for dealing with grievances,” he said.
“You mean because of the poisoning and everything?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
“I’
m right as rain,” I said. “Send him in.”
Orlando lingered a moment, just staring at me, before he left and returned with a woman.
She was very tall and very thin, and wore her dark hair up in the wavy updo that I imagined had been her style of choice since the fifties. She wore a burgundy gown with what appeared to be an entire fox around her shoulders, and she stood at a strange angle that made it appear like she had curves, or maybe that she would float away with the slightest breeze. There was something about her that told me she was older, more influential than the others who had come to visit. And it made me just a little nervous.
“Natasha Avilov, my dear,” she said, and held out a frail hand.
“A pleasure, I’m sure,” I said.
“It’s likely you don’t yet know of me,” she said. “I’m dear friends with Mr. Chapman.”
“Walter?” I asked.
“The very same.”
I wondered if that was true. It didn’t seem likely that Walter had dear friends beyond Bennet and Charlie. All the same, I smiled and didn’t question her.
“What can I do for you today, Ms. Avilov?”
“Natasha, please,” she replied.
“Okay,” I said, and tried really hard not to look at the fox. “Natasha.”
“I have a collection,” she said. “Five young bucks who serve my every whim. The eldest has been attacked twice in recent weeks, the youngest but once.”
“Attacked by whom?” I asked. Was it who or whom? Hmmm.
“Hunters.”
A lump caught in my throat. “Hunters?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine they were all like Violet. Violent more like, and destructive.
“All I ask is for permission that my boys may defend themselves,” Natasha said. “I do not have a problem with forbidding needless violence, yet at times, bloodshed is inevitable. The question is, must it be ours?”
I considered her words. She wasn’t here throwing daggers or threatening me because she didn’t like my ruling. She was asking for the chance to fight when her life was in danger, or the lives of those she cared about. I remembered what Walter had said back when I’d made my decree about non-violence. I’d been so naive, so childish to believe that everything could be black and white. The truth was in the gray. Everything was gray.
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