Ruled

by Keira Blackwood

  I couldn’t deny anyone the right to live. I couldn’t force them to roll over while they were stabbed in the back. “Of course,” I said. “You have my permission to do what you have to in order to defend yourselves.”

  There was no other answer I could give, but even so, I questioned it. Where was the line? What if by agreeing to this, others would say they had to kill a busload of kids or something else just as horrible? I had to look at the rule overall. There had to be a middle ground, didn’t there?

  “I appreciate your wisdom in your ruling,” Natasha said. Then she bowed deep, and turned for the door. “I’ve told them all the queen could see truth and reason,” she said. And like a wisp in the wind, she was gone.

  Is that what people thought of me, that I was unreasonable? Maybe I had been. Maybe I was—but I didn’t want to be.

  The more I learned, the longer I was in charge, the less I felt like I knew. It had been easier believing I was tops and that I knew best, but every day that passed taught me that I didn’t.

  “I’ve got to go,” I said to Orlando as I passed him and hurried for the hall.

  I needed to talk to someone who would understand, someone who wouldn’t judge. I needed Tyr.

  As I stepped down the spiral staircase, the torchlight lit up just enough of the way so I was sure I wouldn’t fall. It was also just enough that I wasn’t sure what I would find further ahead. Even though everything had been his at one time, the basement felt like it was completely Tyr’s domain. I knew it was silly, but part of me worried that I was trespassing.

  “Tyr?” I called into the darkness, hoping not to invade his privacy. “It’s me,” I said.

  The stone halls felt like a big maze, and I wasn’t sure which way to go.

  A few steps forward and I saw him.

  Leaning against a stone arch, he looked comfortable and put together. He had on a fresh white button-down shirt and non-tattered black pants. I wanted to run my fingers through his brown hair, touch the stubble on his jaw, and kiss those delicious lips. Just one look at him, and I nearly forgot why I’d been looking for him in the first place.

  “Oh,” I said, “hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “It feels a little weird being down here,” I said. “It’s so dark.”

  “I don’t mind,” he replied.

  “I was hoping to find you,” I said, and continued my approach.

  “Is that so?” A smile spread across his face, a sexy look that made me blush. How did he have this effect on me?

  “To talk,” I said.

  “Of course,” Tyr replied.

  I looked around. There was nowhere to sit. “Don’t tell me you just sleep on the floor down here,” I said.

  “No,” he said, “of course not. Come, let me show you.”

  His fingers brushed my back, and my muscles quivered with the memory of his touch. His hands were big and strong, yet gentle. I let him lead me. I had no idea what was down here, what he could possibly have to show me, but excitement skittered up my spine just at the chance to spend a few extra moments in his company.

  We followed a curved path to a big open space where the ceiling was even higher than it was in the hall. Everything was arched—the entryway, the stone ceiling, and the half-circle holes in the far wall. There were piles of cardboard boxes and wooden crates, and a single chair on a pretty Oriental rug that covered the dark stone floor, giving the cold space more of a homey touch, if only a little.

  “This is better,” I said. “Much better, but I still don’t see a bed. You’re not a chair sleeper, are you?”

  “No.”

  “That’s rough on the neck,” I said. “I never saw the appeal.”

  “I sleep here.” He touched one of the arched holes in the wall. It looked more like the resting place of a corpse, or one of those brick ovens for my favorite pizza, when I could still eat pizza, than a bed.

  “So you went from that sweet mattress I’m sleeping on to a cold stone slab?” I asked.

  “It’s not so bad,” he said. “This is where I slept while the building above was being built.”

  “You deserve better,” I said. “All we have to do is set up something upstairs. There’s like a billion rooms in this place.”

  “Really, Ashley,” he said, “I don’t mind.”

  “I do.”

  He stared at me, and I had no idea what he was thinking. I waited for him to blink, or smile, or do anything. It was a battle of wills, or something. I liked a good challenge as much as I hated the idea of leaving him down here all alone, to sleep in that hole.

  I stared back, determined not to lose. My eyes burned, and I melted under his heavy gaze, yet I did not blink. I did not move.

  “Is this what you wished to discuss with me?” Tyr asked.

  And just like that it was over. Had it not been a standoff at all? I wasn’t entirely sure.

  “No,” I said. “I’ve been thinking about something a lot. And I thought you could maybe talk me through it. Give me fresh eyes or something.”

  “Of course,” he said, as he leaned casually against the wall. He slid his hands into the pockets of his pants, and he looked just like he did when I’d spotted him in the hall. Was this a standoff too? Like whoever sat down in the chair first lost? Or was I just reading too much into what was left unsaid?

  “One of the first things I did when I first took power was make a rule about not killing,” I said.

  I waited for a response, for a cringe or a grumpy Walter-like face. But Tyr gave nothing away.

  I continued, “I thought being queen would give me the chance to do some good, you know?”

  “It’s a noble take on power,” he said.

  “But it made everyone mad,” I said. “I mean everyone.”

  “Does that matter to you?” he asked. “Whether or not you are adored?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Not really. At least in theory. It’s more like, I’m starting to see that everything can’t be good and evil, black and white. And even if I think I’m doing the right thing, it might not really be the right thing.”

  “Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.”

  “That’s from a song,” I said. “I think it was by Squirrely Sandnuggets.”

  “Possibly,” he replied, “though Shakespeare first.”

  “I get what you’re saying. It’s hard to be in charge, but that doesn’t actually help me solve anything,” I said. “I talked to this chick upstairs, and she told me a story. I expected it to be like all the others, with two brutes fighting over something stupid, and all they’d have to do was get over their egos to work it out. But this chick was different.”

  “What did she need?” Tyr asked.

  “She told me about a hunter, like Violet used to be. Someone who’s out there in Scarlet Harbor right now killing my vampires, the ones I’m supposed to protect. And it’s my rule that stops them from fighting back.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I said okay. I told her that she could do it,” I said. “And now I’ve got this sick feeling, knowing that I’ve just sentenced a man to death. A human man, when all I wanted was to protect innocent lives.”

  “If he slaughters our kind, is he truly innocent?” Tyr asked.

  “No,” I said. “That’s the thing. I want to protect everyone as best as I can. I don’t want vampires out there killing girls who just happen to be out at night, or vampires to be killed just because we exist.”

  “It sounds like your heart is in the right place.” His smile was kind.

  I felt silly for thinking we’d had a standoff at all. We were a team, and he was on my side. He didn’t judge the decisions I’d made, even if they'd been wrong. Instead, he tried to help me. It was more than I could have hoped for.

  “So what do I do now?” I asked.

  “Perhaps you don’t need an official ruling at all, but rather you could monitor behavior on a case-by-case basis.”

  That made sense, though I
wasn’t sure I could trust everyone to do the right thing. But I guessed that was the case no matter what the rules were.

  “I wish you’d been here from the beginning,” I said. “Walter tried to tell me, but I didn’t listen. I wish you’d been here and helped me before everything that happened with Arthur Evans and his cronies.”

  “Me too.”

  I took his hands in mine, and leaned my forehead against his chest I closed my eyes and just allowed myself to be. It felt good to be close. It felt right to be with him, more right than anything else had in either of my lives.

  I leaned in a little closer, and tilted my chin up. He bent his neck and brushed my lips with his. They were soft, and wet, and tasted just like I remembered. I kissed him back, and my body came alive, every inch of my skin yearning for his touch. He slid his hands around my back, and when he pulled me close, I melted. This was where I belonged.

  I reveled in the feel of his hard chest, of how big he was, and how perfectly I fit against him. And before we ended up naked again, I took his hand, and led him up the stairs, to the room that we were meant to share, to the bed that was meant for both of us.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tyr

  June 3, 1134

  Remote forest, Roman Empire

  The first nights had been the hardest. I couldn’t look at her without seeing the bodies I’d left in my wake. After that night I vowed never to kill again unless I had to, to feed only if it was required for survival.

  It had taken ten months and eleven days for her to speak. “My dolly,” she said, of the rag toy she’d lost that night in the flames. I found one on a sales cart the next day. She held it tight and never let go.

  It took another two days before she told me her name—Lyra. After that, things changed between us. She stopped looking at me like I was a monster, and I tried to forget that I was one.

  Lyra grew to care for me, if only a fraction of the love I held for her. But every smile or kind word was a reminder of what I’d taken from her. My life became a balancing act, juggling training and nurturing the young girl while remaining on the run from hunters. There were times that tested my resolve, but none so much as this.

  Lyra sharpened her blade by the fire. The forest was quiet but for the chirping of crickets and the rhythmic scrape of steel on stone.

  “I think it’s time,” she said. Her big brown eyes sparkled with determination.

  I’d known this day would come. For sixteen years I’d known. Lyra was grown, a strong and capable woman in her own right. She’d mastered her ability to shift, her proficiency with the seax, and like any daughter—the ability to manipulate her father.

  “At the next city I can set you up with a place to live, enough to make you comfortable.”

  “What?” She looked at me as if I’d gone mad. “I’m not leaving you. It’s time you turned me.”

  “No.”

  “No?” She laughed. “If it isn’t you, I could find myself a different sire.”

  “Don’t do this, Lyra,” I said. “I can’t.”

  “We’ll see,” she said with a wide grin.

  I opened my eyes to the most beautiful sight. Thick, golden locks laid across the pillow. Black silk sheets clung to her bare arm, leaving the fair skin of her shoulder and neck exposed. I’d never woken so content.

  As I climbed out of bed, thick, soft fibers tickled between my toes. That was different. When the room had been mine, there had been no carpet. The four-poster bed was the same as it had been, as was the decor of weapons on two of the walls. Some of the pieces that had hung were gone. Others had been added. Had they been hung by Ashley? Or had they belonged to Yeke?

  It was strange being in my old bedroom, even more so than it had been downstairs. It felt like an alternate reality, where everything was just a little off from the way it was meant to be. Yet, somehow, I knew that this was the way it was meant to be. Ashley had preserved my essence in making the estate her own, and had even welcomed me back. Had our roles been reversed, would I have done the same?

  She was special, so unlike any other vampire I’d ever known. It wasn’t just her desire to do good, but the potential within her for greatness. She would make an exceptional leader with time and experience. I could see that. And what’s more, I could imagine sharing not only this bed, but that role with her, for the foreseeable future.

  I looked to the open door on the far wall. How long had it been since I’d showered in my own bathroom? Too long.

  I left the hardwood floor for the harder, colder tiles. The space had been updated since my time here, sleek silver fixtures replaced classic brass. The shower was no longer a stall, but a more open room. Inside I found a tablet of glass much like the one that had been in the shipping container that had carried me home, much like current phones.

  I tapped the glass and looked around to determine where the faucet was. There appeared to be none. Like summer rain, a sheet of cool water fell down from the ceiling. I tapped the screen again toward the red side of the colored line, only to turn the water scolding hot. With haste I tried again, touching somewhere just red of center.

  The rain cooled to a tolerable level, though visibility remained low. I shielded my eyes and wondered why anyone would want so much water falling everywhere at once. There was a small shelf on the wall, and on it I found a bottle that smelled just like Ashley. The contents were creamy in my palm, and frothed when touched by water. There were notes of warm vanilla, rich cream, and sweet honey.

  I washed myself clean, rinsed, and dried, all the while her scent clung to my skin. The cold air bit as I exited the steamy bathroom in search of my clothing. Ashley lay still on her bed, resting peacefully. I did my best not to wake her, and hoped she found herself in pleasant dreams.

  My pants were at one end of the room, my shirt on the other. It was fortunate that Ashley hadn’t torn anything this time. Next time she did, perhaps I would have another set waiting here in the bedroom. The idea felt right, and filled me with hope. She did that to me—provided an optimism that I wouldn’t have imagined before.

  I dressed and took one last look at Ashley before I left the room. The desire to crawl back into bed with her was strong, but I had scheduled meetings with Bennet and Walter. It was for the best to let Ashley rest, and to follow through with my commitments. It wasn’t a choice, but rather something ingrained deep within me, a part of who I was—duty first.

  Though I walked away, my mind was filled with thoughts of Ashley—of her delicious scent, of her soft skin, of the way she’d grounded me when I’d been so lost. I’d gone eight hundred ninety-nine years without killing, ended in weakness as I’d left the sea. But I was finding my way back, she was bringing back the man Lyra would have been proud of, the man I strived to be.

  Before I crossed the threshold to my office, I could sense that they were already here. Behind the platform with the velvet chair stood Bennet, leaning against the bookcase. Walter reclined in the chair at the desk. They were speaking softly, and both stopped and turned as I stepped into the room.

  “Thank you for coming,” I said. “It is good to see you both.”

  “You too,” Bennet replied.

  “How are you coming along on the vetting process?” I asked.

  “I’ve cleared three of the formal guards,” Bennet said. “I know it’s not much, but these things take time.”

  “Of course,” I said. “Always better to use caution.”

  “Has she been complaining?” Bennet asked.

  “No,” I said. I found it strange that he expected her to be.

  “Good.” It seemed as if he was holding something back. He stared at me for a time before speaking again. “Hannah says Ashley’s well again.”

  “She is.”

  “Have you reconsidered your…position?” he asked.

  Both Bennet’s and Walter’s eyes flicked to the door. Both men tensed, and I knew the cause without turning. I could feel her closeness—Ashley.

  “We are�
�negotiating terms,” I said. “Tell me of the other guards. Have you found anything concerning? Any sign that others may be loyal to Evans and his cause?”

  Her boots clicked along the hardwood, echoing through the silence. I looked from Bennet to Walter. Both looked past me, to her.

  Ashely stepped up to my side, a vision in tight black pants and her over-sized cream sweater. Her golden locks hung loose, and her lips and cheeks were a pleasant pink.

  “Don’t let me stop you,” she said. “Please, continue.”

  The distance between us was vast. It was unreasonable to expect her to embrace me, to wrap her arms around me, yet I found myself wishing she would. We had barely discussed more than the idea of coexisting in the estate, that she was content to have me by her side in rule, and in bed. Yet my feelings for her were more profound than some meaningless fling, more possessive. Part of me yearned to claim her as mine, and to make sure everyone else knew it.

  “No,” Bennet said. “There’s been no evidence of disloyalty.”

  “Beyond those who’ve already betrayed us,” Walter said.

  “Yeah,” Bennet said. His jaw tightened, forming an agitated frown. “Except all of them.”

  “I appreciate the blood you’ve had brought in,” Ashley said, turning to Walter.

  Walter bowed his head in response.

  “How’s that line of hands…chain of custody going?” she asked.

  “Security has been tightened on handling,” Walter replied. “Distribution should return to normal shortly.”

  “Great,” Ashley said. “Thanks.”

  An awkward silence filled the room, though no one let on their discomfort. All of this was new to each of us, learning to redefine our positions.

  “Well, I guess I’ll leave you all to it then,” Ashley said, and turned for the door.

  There was a sound, harsh and high-pitched. Hysterical bawling thundered through the room.

  Ashley froze. Bennet and Walter looked to me. I knew nothing more than anyone else.