by J. D. Brown
“I don’t have children of my own,” said Brinnon. “So tell me, Mrs. Marx, what did you do?”
Mom tensed, and her fear crashed into me; a tidal wave that ripped into my most basic Nephilim instincts. I slapped my free hand over my mouth and leaned, as subtly as I could, away from my mother. Mom lifted her chin, too proud to show such a weak emotion, but perhaps also too ignorant of the company around her. The three of us could feel the pounding of her pulse like the base of a speaker in a nightclub shaking the very foundation beneath us. We could smell the perspiration wafting from her pores; rancid but also sweet, tempting, begging for an end to the misery. Human fear was potent.
Somehow, the three of us remained stoic as Mom continued.
“I let them in,” she said, referring to Lilith and Valafar. “I let those demons into my house. Next thing I know, I’m waking up in a cage in a building made of tin walls.”
“So you don’t remember leaving your house and traveling across the continent?” said Brinnon.
Another wave of fear. I held my breath until it passed. Mom shook her head. “We slept through it.”
“When you woke up, did your captors say anything? Anything at all? Perhaps you overheard them speaking?”
Mom thought for a moment. “They spoke a foreign language until that other girl showed up—the one you found in the cage with me. When she woke, they taunted her and then they talked about what they should do with her. You know, whether or not they should kill her.”
A third wave of fear set the room on edge, but it wasn’t just Mom this time. I was so mad at Bridget, thinking she had practically handed Apollyon his philosopher’s stone, thinking that Nikolas would still be alive if she hadn’t been there—I never stopped to think how close to death she came. How terrified and how guilty she must have felt.
Brinnon nodded, and I could tell from his expression that Mom’s interrogation was over.
“Send in the next one,” he said.
I pushed to my feet, feeling like a Marionette puppet as I walked Mom to the door, my body an empty husk devoid of emotional energy after everything she had said. It was a lot to process.
The guys stood as Mom joined them in the hall.
“Anthony,” I said, my voice small.
Anthony swallowed and then came toward me. Dad wrapped one hand around Mom’s wrist and gently pulled her against him, smoothing his other hand against her back.
“How was it?” he asked in a voice that was meant just for her. My gaze narrowed as Mom leaned into him. It was weird. They looked like—like they were close.
I was home with my husband. The words echoed in my mind, but now was not the time to examine them. With a scowl, I turned away and receded into the office with a reluctant Anthony at my side. He hesitated before sitting in the chair my mother had vacated. I sat next to him, still feeling numb.
“Anthony?” Brinnon said the name as though he were trying it on for size. “Do you have a surname?”
“Do you?” He snorted.
“Cooperate,” I growled, not in the mood for his conspiracy theories.
Anthony snapped his jaw shut. Mom’s fear had been thick. His was at least three-times that. The blow punched me in the gut with the full force of a sledge hammer. I winced, fighting the urge to double over in my seat as my Nephilim tendencies tore like a jagged-knife to the surface.
“Jesus Christ, Anthony, he just wants to ask you some questions.” The words punched from my teeth. “Relax, you idiot.”
Tancred had taken a step back while Brinnon pushed his chair away from his desk. Both vampyres avoided eye contact, opting to stare to the sides as their knuckles bulged from the strain of their fists, obviously fighting the urge to begin lunch early.
Anthony drew a deep breath then released it slowly.
“Hicks,” he said. “Anthony Hicks.”
“Mr. Hicks.” Brinnon’s shoulders visibly relaxed, though he still avoided eye contact with my ex. “Do you remember how you got to Escudo de Veraguas?”
Anthony glanced at his lap and wrinkled his brow. “I think... I think Lily took us there.”
“Do you recall how? Did you take an airplane? Ride in a boat?”
Anthony shook his head. “I don’t remember. One minute I was at Ema’s mom’s house. The next minute I was in a... a cage.”
Brinnon’s gaze ebbed in Anthony’s direction as he gave voice to a question I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear the answer to. “How do you know Lily?”
Anthony’s complexion turned scarlet and a new, stronger scent wafted from him. Pure. Unadulterated. Guilt.
“I, um,” he turned slightly away from me and cleared his throat, “met her at work. We were co-workers. I didn’t know she was a psycho.” He peeked at me from the corner of his vision, the edges of his mouth turned down, those puppy-dog hazel eyes turned to their widest setting. Unease churned my stomach, but I didn’t understand it, until...
Did he say co-worker?
Anthony had cheated on me with one of his co-workers. A woman named—Lily.
No.
“No,” I said out loud. “No way. Her? She’s that Lily?”
Anthony grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
“What’s going on?” Brinnon demanded.
I stood, mortified. “Anthony, please tell me this is a joke. You couldn’t. I mean, how could you?”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t know what she was. Heck, I’m still not sure what she is. I know this sounds crazy, but it was like she was in my head. Like she was controlling me somehow.”
“No, I mean literally; how could you cheat on me with Lilith? She’s like a hundred years old and ninety-percent of her body doesn’t even have skin. It’s disgusting. Physically, how could you do it?”
Anthony looked a bit green. “W-what?”
“I’m done,” I said to a very silent and possibly shocked Brinnon. Tancred stood with his jaw on the floor, just as speechless as the Prince. I didn’t care. Nor did I wait for a reply. I turned and marched to the exit.
“Ema, wait.” Anthony scrambled after me. When it became apparent that no one was going to stop either of us, I marched faster, flinging the door open. Dad stood as I rushed past my parents.
“Honey?”
“Sorry, Dad,” I said without looking back or slowing down. “You’re on your own.”
Anthony followed me across the ballroom into the foyer. I considered flying, but, aside from the rule against using our powers in front of humans, stomping my feet actually helped release some of my anger. I ground the heels of my shoes into each wooden step while ascending the foyer stairs.
“Ema, please can we talk about this?”
“No,” I growled while opening the door to the tower and climbing the stone spiral.
“Ema,” he panted. The echo of his sneakers was slow and clumsy as his steps faded far below.
I reached the guest wing and went straight to my room, but I stalled before opening the door. Jesu stood in the corner of my vision, one shoulder pressed against the corridor wall, his arms draped casually across his chest. But it was Bridget that made me pause. She stood facing him, the space between them hardly more than two inches. Whatever they were doing before had stopped when I barged in. The dimple in Jesu’s cheek slowly lessened and his brow dipped as he scanned me.
“Everything okay?”
“No.” I lowered my gaze. I know I told Bridget to try, but... I looked at him and my cheeks burned. Jesu straightened his posture, his gaze dark. I raised both hands, palms forward, warding him off. “I’m fine, but I’d appreciate it if you were both somewhere else for a little while. I think Anthony and I... Well, I think we’re going to have some harsh words.”
“Oh.” Jesu was still for a moment. Then, as though mentally wiping the emotion from his face, his features relaxed. He nodded to Bridget and the two of them filed past me. As soon as they disappeared around the tower bend, Anthony rose from the steps, bent over and clutching his side with one hand. He
used the other hand to pull his weight onto the landing, and then collapsed just inside the hallway. He rolled onto his back, panting.
“Christ, you’re in good shape. It’s easy going down, but going up...” He gulped in air, then gripped the wall for support and pulled himself upright. He swallowed a few more deep breaths as he faced me, and then squared his shoulders. “Ema, we really need to talk.”
“I’m listening.”
Anthony hesitated. He looked past me, at the guards. I rolled my eyes.
“Go on, take five.” I made a shooing motion with my hands in case they didn’t speak English. “No one’s even in their rooms right now.”
The Alpans looked a bit nervous to be leaving their posts, but they went anyway.
Anthony didn’t waste any time. “Ema, I swear she drugged me or something. It was like I had no control. I wasn’t myself. I—”
I glared at him—hard.
He swallowed and then looked to the side. “I know it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t excuse what I did. I never should have slept with her. But, Ema...” He looked at me, slow and uncertain and truly terrified. “You said she didn’t have skin?” His face blanched and his hands shook. “Sometimes... Sometimes I saw it. She looked old and...” When he couldn’t find the words to explain, an exasperated sigh punched from his lips. He furrowed his brow and shook his head, as though his mind struggled to accept what he saw. “But that doesn’t make any sense.”
The anger inside me wilted and my heart broke for him. Anthony must have thought he was going crazy. I didn’t know what kind of powers Lilith possessed, but I wasn’t dumb enough to think she didn’t have any. Every clan had special abilities. Valafar had his purple light that could put anyone, even a vampyre, to sleep. I knew Anthony was telling the truth. Whether Lilith used some sort of succubae juju or really just drugged him the old-fashioned way, it didn’t matter. Anthony didn’t cheat on me the way I thought he had.
I remembered Leena, in what felt like another lifetime now, begging me to help her save Jalmari from his father when Apollyon controlled him.
I cannot lose Jalmari, she’d said. Not like this. Not without the choice being his own.
And I remembered thinking; if it had been Anthony, if he had acted dishonestly because of something other that controlled him, then I would have done everything in my power to help him, just as Leena was willing to do anything to save the man she loved. A lump welled in my throat and I struggled to swallow.
“Why didn’t you say anything? I would have helped you. We could’ve avoided all of this.”
“Really?” Anthony shook his head. He looked sad. Sadder than I had ever seen him. “It’s a nice thought, but look at you. You’re one of them.”
“Because of you!” I snapped. “Because of Lilith. If I hadn’t been out so late crying my eyes out over you, I wouldn’t have run into Jalmari.”
Anthony’s brow dipped at the turn in conversation. “Who?”
I shook my head. He didn’t know about Jalmari. He couldn’t have. Neither could Lilith, for that matter.
Could she?
Anthony sighed. “See? That’s exactly what I mean. You were always with your secrets. You don’t let people in. You don’t trust. All it took was one mistake—a mistake I was manipulated into. But you never gave me a chance. In your eyes, I was just a selfish cheater. You never once thought it could be anything else.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault? Let me remind you that I let you continue to live with me, rent-free, for a week after you told me you were having an affair. Do you still live in our apartment, or were you evicted after I was kidnapped?” I crossed my arms and turned away. My whole face burned. I couldn’t believe he had the balls to blame me. Maybe if he had been more faithful, Lilith wouldn’t have been able to dig her claws into him.
“I’m not blaming you, I just...” Anthony sighed. “Our relationship was already ending. I knew you were unhappy, but by the time I realized it, it was too late and I was ashamed. Instead of saying anything, I waited for you to open up about it. When you didn’t, I got mad. I thought you wanted out. So I got pissed and...” I was still facing away from him, but I could feel him take a step closer. Then another. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
I closed my eyes and my shoulders curled forward. Was Anthony right? I tried to remember what our relationship was like before the nightmare. When exactly had it gone from rainbows and sunshine to storm clouds and resentment? I couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Unfathomable circumstances had ripped me away from that life. I was no longer Ema Marx, the girl who cried for a broken love. I was a vampyre. I was Ema ta Korento. The woman who defeated a tyrant. One thing was for sure... I didn’t love Anthony that way anymore.
I opened my eyes and turned toward him with a kind smile. “I know. And I’m sorry, too.”
His head had bowed, but he glanced up at me and returned the smile. Some of the tension left his shoulders for a moment, but then it came back, and Anthony scowled.
“Seriously, though. What was she?”
I sucked in a deep breath and decided it was best to let Anthony believe he’d been drugged. “Just a seriously old lady. Whatever drug she slipped you must have been a strong hallucinogenic. She must’ve known you weren’t into cougars.”
Anthony chewed his lower lip. I could see the indecision play out in his gaze. He was probably wondering how I knew about Lilith, and what I might have meant when I said she didn’t have skin. That was going to be hard to explain. But, as we stood facing each other in the hall, the seconds droning on in silence, Anthony eventually seemed to come to some conclusion. One that apparently didn’t involve asking any more questions.
“Well, I think I’ll go back to bed and catch a nap. I think I can sleep now.”
The relief was instant. I sighed deeply and then nodded. “Pleasant dreams.”
I turned and went to my bedroom door as Anthony went to his. I had just opened the door when he backtracked.
“Hey Ema?”
“Yeah?”
“That Fabio guy... the one that isn’t your boyfriend?”
My nerves jumped a little. “Yeah?”
“Don’t make the same mistake with him.”
I nodded before ducking into my room.
If only it were that simple.
VALAFAR
Following the Princess through her morning rounds was about as fun as watching paint dry. I did, however, discover that the guards in the guest wing had kept my previous blunder to themselves. Even if they told their prince, I suppose it wouldn’t have mattered. Brinnon had lied to Ema about me this long.
And was lying to her still.
That much I found out when I decided to switch lanes and follow Ema to her parents’ interrogation. It was a potential gold mine of information I couldn’t afford to miss, especially since Logan couldn’t have spelled Brinnon’s office. I hovered near the far end of the narrow office, invisible to them all, and heard everything.
Unfortunately, Ema’s family revealed nothing I didn’t already know. Lilith kidnapped them, blah, blah, and etcetera. Brinnon kept his questions disappointingly vague. Good guy that he was; he would do his best to see her mother and ex safely home.
Logan went last. Whether or not he could sense my presence as he entered the office and sat before the Prince, I did not know. Either he was not paying attention, distracted by Brinnon’s line of questions, or he was too well trained to show it.
Brinnon asked the same question—how did they end up on the island? Logan gave the same answer—Lilith brought them, but he couldn’t say how exactly because they had been asleep. That was all true. I put them to sleep and phased them across the country as Lilith commanded.
Brinnon did confirm Logan’s status as a human Jumlin and Hunter before he was through—a tactful move that told Logan the Prince was aware he knew more than he let on. But that was okay. The rules weren’t so black and white for the Jumlin clan—which was exactly what made them so dangerous.
�
��I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell my daughter.” Logan looked both Brinnon and Tancred in the eyes and held their gazes.
Brinnon glanced at his Second in Command before promising Logan they would not say a word. Tancred nodded stiffly, following the will of his sovereign, and then walked Logan to the door. That was that. Absolutely nothing helpful. Couldn’t my lover have mentioned the ring at all?
“I can write the report for you,” Tancred offered once Logan was gone. “You must prepare for tonight.”
“Yes, thank you.” Brinnon sighed into his palms and massaged his brow. “I think I’ll hide in here a moment. Catch my thoughts.”
Tancred didn’t seem the type to smile often. When the edge of his mouth curved upward, there was something seemingly devious about it. “Your father used to do that all the time.”
Brinnon watched as Tancred cleared the small stack of notes from the desk and then left the office. The door closed quietly behind him.
I meant to leave as well. To continue following Ema, or perhaps check on Sara, but I hesitated. Believing he was alone, Brinnon ran his fingers through his hair and sighed deeply as he sank into the monstrous, leather armchair. His gaze traveled slowly around the room, pausing on a gray wolf head mounted on the wall across from him.
“I don’t know how to do this,” he murmured.
I stiffened in surprise, momentarily believing that his words were directed at me. They were not. The Prince was speaking to himself.
I sighed inwardly. I should go. After our last conversation, I told myself some discretion was needed between us. He was too young. Too naive. I couldn’t give him what he wanted.
“You groomed me my whole life for this moment,” he continued. “And for the centuries to follow, but I... I find myself lacking. How did you do it all on your own?”
My chest tightened. The urge to comfort him overcame me, but how? I never knew my father; had never known the kind of love or admiration Brinnon felt for his. What I knew of my mother did not compare. I floated slowly toward him, wishing I could think of some way to reassure him. He was going to be a marvelous king. Of that I had no doubt. But the words tangled in my throat.