by Keary Taylor
I smile at him again. “I know it won’t. You’re forgiven.”
Something seems to lift from his chest and he stands just a little straighter.
“Is she awake?”
The hesitant, sweet voice from my doorway draws my eye. The owner of it stays just out of view, but I recognize it.
“Elle?” I ask, confusion taking over.
She steps into my bedroom, her eyes scared and unsure looking. They dart from Nial to Rath to Samuel and then back to mine. “Hi, Alivia.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask as I sit up a little straighter in the bed. “Boys, I’m fine. Can we have a little privacy?”
Without a word, all three of them clear out of the room, closing the door behind them. Elle watches them go, but she looks only slightly less nervous when she looks back at me.
I pat the bed beside me and she crosses to sit stiffly on the edge of it.
“Ian doesn’t know you’re here, does he?” I ask, even though it’s more of a statement.
Elle shakes her head. “I should be at school. I’m guessing he’s sleeping right now. Or at least, trying to sleep. He had a long night.”
I swallow hard, feeling the ice around my heart attempting to thaw. But I just can’t let it. “How is Lula handling what’s happened?”
Elle takes a moment to answer, her eyes dropping to the bed. “She didn’t seem surprised at all, actually. He finally came home after your party, and he had to tell us the truth. Don’t get me wrong, Lula didn’t seem happy. But she wasn’t surprised either.”
“She knew about the affair?” I ask, and it’s more than one question.
Elle nods, giving a little sniff before looking back up at me. “She did. Lula wouldn’t tell us much about it, just that Mom was hanging with people she shouldn’t have. She wanted things that weren’t right.”
She pauses, her gaze turning inward. I can feel the weight of this young girl’s world, so heavy on her shoulders.
“Elle, is what happened to Ian ever going to happen to you?” I ask.
Once more she meets my eyes. “No,” she responds simply. “Our dad was my biological father. If you saw pictures of him, you’d know without a doubt. The blond hair. Same nose. You really can’t question it.”
I reach out and take her hand. I feel for this girl, so much. She’s lost so much, had too much darkness in her young life.
It’s then that I see the bandage wrapped around her forearm.
“What happened?” I ask, my brow furrowing. My hand reaches up and as my fingertips barely brush it, the tape peals back, revealing a horrific wound.
It’s really not that deep. But it’s so brutal and stark.
There’s the shape of a cross cut into Elle’s flesh.
“Don’t,” she says quietly as she quickly replaces the bandage. And she won’t look back up at me. “It’s fine.
“Elle, that does not look fine,” I gasp in horror. “Who did that?”
“It’s nothing,” she says. “Some kid at school was just pulling a prank.”
“By cutting into your skin?” I’m horrified. Luke said things had gotten bad for the Wards, but this…I never could have imagined this.
“It’s fine,” she says, and she practically yells it, staring into my eyes coldly. “We’re taking care of things.”
I’ve never wanted to take so many things back so badly. This poor girl, so sweet and innocent, stuck in the middle of this war that is so much stronger than she is.
Elle clears her throat and once again doesn’t meet my eyes. “I came here to ask you a favor.”
“Anything,” I promise her.
“Ian wants us to leave. He’s been trying the last few days to get Lula and me to pack up and leave Silent Bend. I think he means for forever. But Lula won’t go. She’s been rather…unpleasant about it.”
I can just imagine…
“And I don’t want to go. My whole life I’ve lived here. I have school. And my friends,” her voice grows quieter, making me question the friend aspect. “And I don’t want to run.”
Her eyes rise up to mine, and I see strength there. Determination.
“I know this King is supposed to be bad and scary, I’m not questioning that,” she says. The conviction in her eyes grows stronger. “But I’m asking you to not say anything about Ian. Please don’t mention anything about our family. We’re just another citizen of Silent Bend. Please.”
Her desperation, her plead, it breaks my heart.
For just a moment, I’m reminded of myself, months ago. Desperate to hold on to normalcy. To protect those I held dearest. From the impending threat and danger.
Now, most of those dangerous threats reside under my own roof.
“I promise,” I breathe. I take her hand again, squeezing tightly to show her how much I mean it.
She lets out a big breath. “Thank you. It really means a lot to me. And,” she reaches into her purse and digs around. “I brought you something I thought might be useful.”
From her bag she produces a rag. Carefully, she shakes out a dozen tiny glass vials.
My eyes rise up to hers and she places a single finger over her lips, commanding silence.
I understand it.
I live in a house full of vampires who have incredibly enhanced hearing. They’ve surely heard every word of our conversation thus far. They don’t need to know what Elle has just brought me.
A dozen doses of the vampire toxin.
I take them in my hand, wrapping my fingers tightly around them. “Thank you,” I say quietly. “I really appreciate it.”
Elle nods and climbs to her feet, indicating she’s ready to leave. Carefully, I slip the toxins into my pillowcase, determined to find a better hiding place later. I stand and we stall at my bedroom door.
“I really am sorry that things didn’t work out between you and my brother,” she says. “He…well. Ian always had a darkness about him, ever since our parents died, so that’s basically my whole life. He’s always been angry. But…he was different with you. I’ve never really seen him happy until he was with you.”
Crack.
Splinter.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice strained. “I’m sorry, too.”
She offers a little, sad smile. Hesitantly, she wraps her arms around me, taking me in a measured embrace. She steps away, tucking a strand of nearly white hair behind her ear. “Thank you, Alivia. I’ll let myself out.”
“Bye,” I say.
I lean my shoulder in the doorway and watch her go down the stairs.
“She’s a brave little waif, isn’t she?”
Raheem walks out his own bedroom door. I’m taken aback by his appearance at first. He wears a red beanie hat, a black leather jacket, and a pair of jeans. He looks so…normal. So…current century.
He must catch me staring, because a coy grin spreads on his face.
“She’s no one,” I say as the front door closes behind Elle. “No one at all.”
Raheem holds my eyes for a long moment, that smile lingering as understanding and knowledge plays through his expression. “Of course not.”
I stare at him, trying to puzzle him out. One moment he’s flirting and dangerous, the next I’m sure he’ll kill me because I’ve said the wrong thing.
“It’s for the best, you know,” he finally says when I don’t. “A broken heart is never an easy thing, but King Cyrus would not have taken kindly to a lover in the way of finding his Queen.”
“Then it’s a good thing he never could have accepted who I am,” I say. The hollow monster inside of me grows larger.
“A fault that is all his own and quite the shame,” Raheem says as his eyes do not leave me. They study me. The whole me. “You are a most extraordinary being, Alivia Ryan. And I say that having lived nearly a thousand years and having met princesses and assassins. You are a treasure.”
And his intensity and sincerity, it’s something that has impact. Something that catches me in a moment where I feel lik
e I am freefalling.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “If you’ll excuse me, I have things to take care of.”
I turn from him, ducking back into my room, ignoring the intense feelings running inside of me.
I dress in jeans and a sweater. I twist my hair up on top of my head and pull on thick socks and my boots. Descending the stairs, the small puddles of moisture on the floor draw my attention.
Opening the door, I wonder at the falling snow.
I did some research about a week ago. Mississippi’s annual snowfall is at most, half an inch. And here outside, it is a winter wonderland. I step out into it, off my front porch, out into the driveway. There’s at least four inches and thick, heavy flakes are still falling.
The fact that Elle drove here is impressive.
Just as surprising as the falling snow, is the sky.
Dark clouds swirl in patterns, stretching out over the river, out to the south. I spin in a circle as I trace the pattern it’s making, the blood chilling in my veins.
The clouds form a dark, giant swirl, centering right over Silent Bend.
And as I stand here, the flakes drifting down, I feel the temperature dropping. It’s freezing. More than that, it has to be far below freezing.
That sky, this weather. It isn’t natural.
Curses.
The Hanging Tree.
The southern Estate, Jasmine’s cursed swamp land.
Somehow, I know. This storm, that sky. It isn’t natural. Something is coming beside the King in just a few days.
“Have you ever seen anything else like this?” I ask as I hear Rath step beside me.
“Just once,” he responds without further explanation.
I feel the temperature drop even further. My body starts to shake. “I think maybe this is exactly what we needed. People’s homes won’t be prepared for these temperatures.”
“Pipes will burst,” Rath agrees.
“People won’t be able to stay warm enough,” I continue. “And those skies, it’s going to scare a lot of people away.”
“Katina just came from the grocery store,” Rath says. “She said there was almost nothing left on the shelves. Bread and produce gone. The water bottles were cleared out. People were warned this morning that things were going to get bad.”
“Will it be enough to make them leave town?” I ask, not quite daring to hope that this will be enough.
“Not everyone.” Rath puts his arm around me as a harsh wind picks up, chilling me straight through. “But those who know the true history of this town will recognize what is happening. Many will try to warn the others.”
My thoughts turn inward as my eyes look up at that sky. A dark, depressive stone settles in my stomach and I cling tighter to Rath’s side.
“Would he be ashamed of me?” I ask quietly. “Henry. My father. Would he be ashamed of what I’m doing?”
Rath doesn’t respond right away. As usual, he thinks deeply about what he says before the words escape his lips. “Everyone has to make their own decisions about their fate and future. Your father made his, and it wasn’t easy. You must make your own decisions, Alivia. You were born into a high calling.”
“He asked me to stay away from the House and the King,” I breathe, creating a big cloud of white. “But I don’t know how he expected me to accomplish that.”
“Parents always desire what they think will be best for their offspring,” Rath says, hugging me tightly back. “But in the end, the individual must make their own choices.”
Choices. I’ve had many, many of them to make since arriving in Silent Bend. Have I made the right ones?
“We should call Sheriff McCoy,” I say, clinging to Rath for just a few moments. It’s nice, just for a little while, to have someone support and help me.
“He’s already on his way,” he responds. “He should be here any minute.”
As if on cue, the tops of the lights of his cruiser peak into view, followed by the car. We watch him as he rolls up the driveway and then park just to the side of us.
“You got a witch in that House of yours, as well?” Luke asks as he steps out into the snow beside us, as I let Rath go. I fold my arms over my chest, hugging myself tight. Luke puts his hands on his hips and stares up at the slowly swirling sky.
I shake my head. “I think something a lot bigger than us isn’t happy about something that’s going on.”
We’re all quiet for a moment, because just then the far off sound of thunder ripples through the air.
“There was a state of emergency issued for west Hipsbro County this morning,” Luke finally says. “The meteorologists are going nuts, calling this a once in a lifetime phenomenon. I’m surprised you don’t have science geeks showing up at your door yet. I swear, that storm looks like it’s centered over your house.”
It’s true. It’s difficult to tell what is directly at the center of the eye, but it does look like it might be the Conrath Estate.
“They’ve called,” Rath says. “I wouldn’t grant them access to the property.”
Luke nods. “Well, that’s probably good. The officials are recommending everyone get out of town until this clears out. It’s supposed to get a lot worse. They’re recommending people head up to Jackson or down to Biloxi.”
I nod, feeling something lift off my chest. “That’s good. Are people leaving?”
Luke shrugs. “Some. I suspect more will by morning when even more pipes break and the temperatures reach zero.”
“Are you going to be headed out of town soon?” I ask, looking over at him.
Luke meets my eyes and there’s complicated emotions there, it’s easy to tell. Luke and I have come to understand each other, but he doesn’t like what my presence here has done to his town. “I’m needed here to protect and serve.”
I nod, because I knew that would be his answer. “You going to be okay wherever you live? Enough water, heat?”
“Rath here had a pallet of water delivered to my place about an hour ago,” Luke says, nodding in his direction in gratitude. “And I’ve got a wood burner, so I’ll be okay.”
I nod. “I’d, of course, tell you you’re welcome to stay here if you need, but that might not be a wise idea considering the house guests I’m about to be entertaining.”
Luke gives a small, humorless chuckle. “I hope you’ve already dismissed your staff for a while?”
Rath nods. “They all left about two hours ago. They’ve been given paid leave and an extended vacation to San Diego until I tell them it’s time to come home.”
Luke laughs again. “San Diego. Now there’s a good idea. How about we all take a good long vacation until this blows over?”
And I chuckle, too. The idea of a vacation seems so ludicrous now. So human and mundane.
“I’m going to keep doing as much as I can to keep getting people out of here,” Luke says as he takes two steps back toward his cruiser. “You heard anything from Jasmine, yet?”
I shake my head. “She’s laying low. You heard of any more attacks?”
“Two teenagers,” he says, a hard edge to his voice. “And a construction worker. We’re up to six people from town now. I think that’s part of the reason people are leaving. They’re afraid.”
“They should be,” I say. And I hate the confession.
Luke opens the driver’s door. “Alivia?” I look back up at him. “I’ll be around, but I really hope I don’t have to talk to you much until all this is over, so if you don’t hear from me…”
“I understand,” I nod.
He gives me a thin-lipped smile. He climbs into his car, and pulls around the driveway and back toward the gate.
I WALK DOWN THE STAIRS when a whooshing sing-sound grabs my attention. I turn into the foyer to see Raheem in the middle of the ballroom.
He wields a sword. He’s dressed in loose, linen pants that tighten around his ankles. A similar shirt and colored keffiyeh. He holds the single-edged sword, poised, his focus sharp. Suddenly, he slices
it through the air, a metal hiss singing loudly. He pivots elegantly, twirling as he cuts through the air.
Raheem is graceful and controlled. The way he moves, it reminds me of a panther.
Suddenly, he catches sight of me and he stills instantly. Our eyes lock for a long moment, and I’m sad his beautiful dance has ended.
“Please don’t stop on account of me,” I breathe. I want to come closer, but for some reason I do not dare.
“Would you like to try it?” he asks. There’s a certain degree of hopefulness in his voice.
I swallow hard. I hesitate. But finally, I nod.
I cross the space and enter the ballroom. Carefully, Raheem hands the sword over.
It’s heavy, heavier than I expected. It’s exceptionally long, so it’s awkward to balance. “Like this,” Raheem says, holding his hands over mine, standing behind me, showing me how to properly hold it. His skin is rough in patches where callouses have worn in and smooth in others. His touch is warm.
He keeps his hands over mine as he slices through the air, hardly even jostling me as he does. “Knees bent,” he says quietly into my ear.
I do as he says and our bodies brush. A spark of electricity ignites in my navel.
He helps me cut through the air once more. “Very good,” he says low.
I glance over my shoulder at him. His dark eyes meet mine and hold. And I’m feeling things. Things that I thought I buried deep.
“How did you find out about me?” I ask, because I cannot handle the intense feelings wrapping around the two of us.
The spell relieved, Raheem moves my hands again in a stabbing motion. “It was an anonymous letter sent,” he says. “They informed the King the moment you arrived.”
So it wasn’t Jasmine. Wasn’t any of her then House members. Someone from town, maybe.
“You’ve watched me this whole time?” I ask as the two of us twirl before slicing in a downward motion. “That picture you left me, it was taken just two weeks after I arrived.”
“Yes,” he answers simply. And there’s so much weight behind it.
I consider what he has seen since he began watching me.
Me being brought back to my Estate after Ian trained me. Me running into the lion’s den when I went to Jasmine’s ball. So many moments of Ian and I being together when we were so afraid of anyone catching us. Me as I desperately clung to a normal life by getting a job and doing what normal people do. And then, me finally offering my life and not succeeding.