Shadow Heir: A Dark Swan Novel#4

by Richelle Mead

  “Goddamn it,” I said, not even letting Dorian start whatever grand, intimidating speech he had planned. “You guys do know. You’ve known for a while.”

  Ysabel gave me a tight smile. Her lips were painted as red as her hair today. “I beg your pardon? I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The fact that she was being polite convinced me even more that she was lying.

  “Before you say another word,” said Dorian, with a terrifying look I’d rarely seen him wear, “you will show the proper respect to me and Queen Eugenie. The lot of you have gotten lazy and disrespectful in your time here, and you’ll be lucky if I just turn you out and don’t imprison you for treason.”

  Ysabel’s smile vanished, and she and the others quickly dropped into the lowest, most respectful curtsies I’d ever seen.

  “Your Majesty,” said Edria. “I don’t understand this talk of treason. We are your most loyal subjects, and you need only ask us to serve.”

  Dorian rose to his feet and stormed over to Edria, leaning only a few inches from her face. “If you were my ‘most loyal servant,’ you would’ve told me immediately that Pagiel had resumed raiding humans! Now. Where is he? And I warn you, I’ll know if you lie, so save yourselves while you can.”

  Ansonia was guileless and wide-eyed and probably would have spilled whatever she knew then and there. Ysabel and Edria were a different story, and I could practically see the wheels spinning in their heads as they tried to figure out what strategy would get them in the least trouble.

  “We thought Your Majesty approved of such actions,” said Ysabel at last, apparently deciding truth mingled with faux ignorance was the way to go. “After all, you’ve always spoken out in favor of Storm King’s prophecy. We didn’t tell you, simply because we thought it didn’t matter. We certainly weren’t trying to hide anything.”

  Dorian had backed off and returned to his chair. “Yes, I’m sure that’s all there was to it.”

  “You never answered the other question,” I pointed out. “Where is Pagiel now?”

  “We don’t know.” Belatedly, Ysabel added, “Your Majesty.”

  “Ysabel ...” warned Dorian.

  She blanched. “It’s the truth, sire. We’ve hardly seen him since he returned from the Yew Land. He comes back every so often from the human world to distribute his goods—only to those in need, I assure you—but otherwise, I don’t know where he stays. Perhaps here, perhaps there.”

  I weighed the truth in her words and knew Dorian was doing the same. Studying all their faces, I actually believed Ysabel was being honest. She really didn’t know where Pagiel was. Perhaps that was intentional on his part. Plausible deniability.

  Dorian’s voice was very, very quiet when he spoke, which added a surprisingly menacing feel. “If he makes contact, you are to let me know immediately. If he actually surfaces, you will alert my guards and restrain him until they can seize him.”

  “Restrain him?” exclaimed Ysabel. “He’s my son! And to be frank ... I’m not sure any of us could restrain him. He ... he’s far more powerful than we are, Your Majesty.” She actually sounded uneasy about that.

  I wouldn’t have believed her if I hadn’t seen Pagiel in action myself. He’d grown much stronger in the time I’d known him, partially thanks to me since I’d helped him better his magic in our travels. I hadn’t asked Roland much about the dust storms in Arizona, but I knew how large that type could grow. That was serious magic.

  “Nonetheless,” said Dorian, “you will do what you can. Is this understood?”

  Ysabel and Ansonia murmured assent. Edria cleared her throat. “It is understood, Your Majesty ... but begging your pardon, may I ask why this is so troubling to you? What do you care for humans? You know they took our world. They have much while we have little. Pagiel is only doing what many—including yourself—think we deserve. I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with it, so I’m just having trouble understanding your commands, sire.”

  Dorian hesitated only a moment before answering, his eyes flicking briefly to me. “You don’t need to understand my commands. You simply need to obey them. Now. Is there anything else that you have to tell us about Pagiel—aside from your justifications? Any idea of his plans? Who his followers are?”

  They swore they knew nothing of his plans but did give us a list of several accomplices. Dorian dispatched a guard to find them, though none of us were optimistic about the success of that. After a few more threats and warnings, he sent the family away. Once we were alone again, his fierce countenance faded and he leaned back with a sigh.

  “By the gods,” he muttered. “What a mess.”

  “Ansonia knows something,” said Jasmine. It was the first time she’d spoken since before the audience. “I can see it.”

  “She definitely looked scared out of her mind,” I agreed. “No surprise with that group. They sure do push her around a lot.”

  “It’s more than that,” Jasmine said. “I swear, there was something she wasn’t telling us. I have really good intuition, you know.”

  I hadn’t known that but didn’t push it. “I can believe that she doesn’t know where Pagiel is,” I said. “And that’s our biggest issue right now. I’ll go back to Tucson tomorrow and see what I can uncover there. You want to go?”

  Jasmine shook her head, still lost in her own thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll let you know.”

  Dorian could hardly resist the opportunity to show us off at dinner. We were gentry celebrities and dressed up to boot. Dinnertime at his castle was always a huge affair, a big party in the dining hall. His court liked the novelty of having other royalty around and was too excited by their own boisterous celebrating to notice the three of us just weren’t into the festive atmosphere. Jasmine left early, and Dorian and I followed shortly thereafter, going to his rooms so we could debrief the Pagiel situation in private.

  “You don’t want to go with me, do you?” I asked him, settling down at a little table. I was reminded of that dinner he’d arranged for me ages ago, the one with the Milky Way cake.

  He poured wine for both of us, the first alcohol I’d had since the twins. “In theory, yes. But I’m not too proud to admit I can’t function in that world as efficiently as I’d like.” Dorian was strong enough to cross over intact, but he suffered the same adverse reactions to technology as most gentry. “I trust you and Roland can deal with the situation initially. I’ll deal with Pagiel when you get him back here.”

  I sipped the wine. It was fruity and strong, reminding me that I should probably exercise caution since I was out of practice. Then again, if ever there was a time to drink, it was now. “Why are you helping me?” I asked after taking another gulp. “I mean, I know you help me all the time, but Edria had a point. Why are you helping me with this? You’ve never had any qualms about invading the human world. You still call Isaac Thundro and talk about him conquering humanity.”

  “Thundro really is an excellent name.” Dorian drank some of his own wine, composing his thoughts. “As for the why? It’s simple. You don’t want Pagiel raiding that world.”

  I waited for more. Nothing came. “That’s it?”

  “What more is there?”

  “I ... I don’t know. It’s just ... it’s just hard for me to believe.” I downed my glass of wine, hoping to hide how flustered I felt. I actually could feel the start of a buzz, driving home that I really had lost my tolerance. I used to take down half bottles of tequila. With as confused as I was, the buzz was welcome. Once, Dorian offering to do something for me would have made me suspicious of ulterior motives. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

  Dorian set down his goblet and walked over to me, surprising me by kneeling so that he looked up at my face. “I told you earlier. What wouldn’t I do for you? I don’t know what else I can say to convince you. I’ve tried to make amends for the Iron Crown, Eugenie. I guess I’ve failed.”

  My heart lurched, and I sank to the ground beside him. I caught hold of his hands. “No,
you haven’t. It’s not your problem anymore. It’s mine. I’m the one who has to get over the past and start trusting again.”

  He ran his fingers over mine. “With everything that’s happened to you, I don’t blame you for not trusting anyone.”

  “I trust lots of people,” I said. A memory of this afternoon came to me, and traitorous lust coursed through my body. “Including you.”

  I brought my lips to his and was flooded with that warmth and sweetness from earlier, that sense that Dorian and I belonged together. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me so that I practically sat on his lap. I increased the intensity of the kiss, nipping his lip with my teeth. He responded in kind, reaching up to grab my hair and jerk my head back so that he could bring his hungry mouth down to my throat. I wondered if I’d have marks there tomorrow but didn’t really care one way or another.

  His other hand slid up to the bodice of my dress, deftly undoing the laces. He pulled back the fabric, exposing a breast, and brought his mouth down to it, finishing what he’d started this afternoon. I cried out as his teeth and tongue played with my nipple and shifted so that I sat up right on my knees and gave him better access. He freed the other breast and sucked on it while also attempting to hike up the dress’s skirt. I tried to pull him on top of me and lie back on the floor, but he stopped me.

  “No,” he gasped out. “Not here. I need to take you to ... somewhere else ... the bed or something... .” He started to get up, and I pushed him down.

  “No,” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Right here. Right now. Just like it used to be.” I don’t know what urgency drove me. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the fear of another interruption like we’d had earlier. Maybe it was just the constant threats I seemed to face that made me want to grasp on to this moment before it could slip away. Or maybe I just hadn’t had sex in too long.

  He studied me for a moment, and I thought he might refuse. Then, he made his decision and came forward to kiss me even harder than before. His body pushed me down so that my back was on the floor. That ridiculous “slayer” robe turned out to be pretty easy to get off, and so help me, he was completely naked underneath. He pushed my skirt up over my hips and tsked when he saw I had underwear on. This had been a longtime debate between us, seeing as gentry women rarely wore any with dresses.

  He quickly took mine off and then lowered his body on top of me. His hands caught hold of my wrists, pinning me to the floor with the same domination he’d always shown in bed. A moment later, without further warning, he was in me, just as hard and long as I remembered. I let out a small cry of surprise, a cry he muffled with a kiss. My body seemed startled at first, seeing as it hadn’t had a lot of action in a while. It didn’t take long to recover, particularly since I was wetter than I’d expected.

  He held me down and thrust himself in and out of me, awakening the desire we’d once shared. I grew lost in it, and soon it was as though no time had passed at all between us. I think he would’ve gone slow and easy if I had asked. I didn’t. I urged him on to take me harder and not hold back. My body reveled in it, loving the feel of him in me. I arched up when I finally came, and he pushed me back down, thrusting harder still as the orgasm wracked my body. He came almost immediately after, his face exquisite in the throes of ecstasy. I had a feeling it had taken every ounce of control he had to wait for my climax.

  He collapsed down on me when he was done, panting and sweaty. I pulled him to me, running a hand over that brilliant, fiery hair. In the afterglow, lying half dressed on the floor seemed a little ridiculous—but only a little. I tried to think of something funny to say, but my brain was lazy and tired with bliss and affection.

  “I feel like I might have just been used,” he said with amusement. “But I don’t think I mind.” It was a fair point, considering my earlier talk about not knowing where we stood.

  A knock at the door interrupted any response I might have made. Dorian groaned and nuzzled against my breast. “Ignore it.”

  The knock sounded again, this time more urgently. When the knock digressed to what was obviously kicking at the door, I suggested that maybe Dorian should answer it after all.

  “I don’t think that’s a servant,” I said. “And hey, at least they waited until after we were done.”

  With a sigh, he got up and put the robe back on. I managed to do the same with my dress as he walked to the door, though anyone with a sharp eye would guess what had been going on. At least the gentry didn’t judge much.

  “Well, well,” he said when he opened the door. “Very unexpected.”

  Jasmine and Ansonia stood there. Ansonia’s face looked as scared as before, but it was Jasmine’s that truly alarmed me. She was so pale, so terribly distraught that I thought she was going to pass out. I jumped up and hurried over to them.

  “For God’s sake, sit down,” I exclaimed. “What’s the matter? Are you okay?” There was no water in sight, so I poured two glasses of wine, figuring underage drinking was better than nothing.

  Jasmine took a sip, though hardly seemed aware of it. There was a robotic quality to her.

  “What’s the matter?” I repeated. “Jasmine, talk to me. One of you, say something!”

  “I’ll send for a healer,” said Dorian.

  That seemed to wake Jasmine up. “No, wait. That’s not—that’s not the problem. I’m just ...” She shook her head and drank more wine. “I don’t know what to think. Ansonia, tell them. You have to tell them.”

  Ansonia regarded us with big scared eyes that were a lovely shade of gray-blue, almost the same as Jasmine’s. “Do you know where Pagiel is?” I asked hopefully.

  Ansonia shook her head. Her hands trembled so much that I thought she’d spill the wine, so I took the glass from her.

  “You have to tell them,” Jasmine urged. “They have to know.”

  Ansonia opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. A few moments later, she tried again. “A ... a few days ago, I overheard Mother and Grandmother talking at night. They thought I was asleep. They—they were talking about Pagiel and his raids.”

  “Damn it,” I muttered. “They do know where he is.”

  “N-no.” Ansonia shook her head. “They don’t. Truly. None of us do. But they were talking about how they’d been expecting this from him but never thought it would happen so soon. Grandmother said it wasn’t the right way, that he needed to go in with a real army and that he was acting without even realizing what he was doing. Then they started talking about you too, Your Majesty.” Those nervous eyes flicked to Dorian. “About whether you’d support him.”

  “Support the raids?” asked Dorian, puzzled. “They know I don’t. It’s why they didn’t tell me.”

  “No, support Pagiel. Fulfilling Grandfather’s legacy.”

  I tried to dredge up what I knew about their family, vaguely remembering how Ysabel’s father had run out on her and Edria. “What legacy?”

  Ansonia swallowed. “I swear, I never knew! I never knew who he was! Neither did Pagiel. He still doesn’t know.”

  Jasmine had recovered enough to no longer have patience for the length of this story. “Damn it, just spit it out!” Not waiting for a response, she turned to me and Dorian. “Ysabel’s dad was Storm King. Our dad. Edria’s been hiding it this whole time.”

  I could only stare. Even Dorian was speechless.

  “Don’t you see?” said Jasmine. “You aren’t the oldest, Eugenie! Ysabel is. And Pagiel is Storm King’s first grandson.”

  Chapter 25

  There were only a handful of moments in my life where my world had been so irrevocably altered that time stood still and I was trapped in my own shock. I could count those times on one hand. Discovering I was pregnant had been one such moment. Another had been learning I was Storm King’s daughter.

  And now ... this.

  “No,” I said at last. “That can’t be right.”

  There were tears in Ansonia’s eyes. “I heard them,” she said. “And when I l
ook back ... there were a lot of conversations I never understood, hints of something big between my mother and grandmother. They didn’t make sense ... but now they do. It started, I don’t know ... maybe a year ago. I remember one day my mother was in shock. She wouldn’t speak to anyone. I think that’s when she found out. I don’t think Grandmother told her until then.”

  Dorian pulled up one of the chairs and sat down. He still looked stunned, but it was fading as his quick mind began analyzing everything. He picked up the wine I’d snatched from Ansonia and took a gulp. “The whole family works weather. Or at least wind and air. Ysabel, Pagiel ... you?”

  Ansonia nodded at the query. “But not as strongly as them.”

  “That may not mean much,” I said. “Magic isn’t always passed down in families.”

  “Not always,” Dorian agreed. “But often. And certainly in Storm King’s line, if you and Jasmine are any indication. She got water. Ysabel got air. You were the lucky one to inherit it all, furthering our thoughts that you’d be the heir’s mother. But look ... look at the resemblance. You and Ansonia were mistaken for each other.”

  He was right, I realized with a sickening feeling. Up close, Ansonia and I didn’t look alike, but from a distance we shared similar features. All of us did: me, Jasmine, Ysabel, Pagiel, and Ansonia. I’d thought it was funny that the clinic in Ohio had accepted my siblings so easily. Suddenly, that was no longer a joke.

  “Oh God,” I said.

  Dorian’s gaze was far away. “And Pagiel’s power has grown—considerably. We haven’t noticed it because of everything else going on.”

  “He’s my nephew,” said Jasmine in despair. No one paid much attention.

  I closed my eyes as something else occurred to me. “And he’s already begun his invasion of the human world. None of us knew it. He doesn’t even know it.” I opened my eyes. “Kiyo was right. Prophecies do fulfill themselves in unexpected ways.”

  And speaking of Kiyo ... the most startling thing of all hit me. Isaac and Ivy. If this was all true—and I was beginning to think it was—Isaac wasn’t Storm King’s heir. He wasn’t the first grandson. He really was an innocent, not a conqueror of worlds. He was free of the prophecy. Free to live his life.