I banged against a wall, leaning heavily on it. “Don’t,” I whispered thickly, knowing their expression. I had seen it once before. Last year, on my mom’s friend’s face, right after she had found her dead. “Don’t you dare say it.” A sharp shake of my head. “He’s not dead.”
“Lily,” Dominic’s dad spoke, his voice rasping, cracking. “Come here, honey.” Gently, he released his grasp on Fi’s shoulder, who wobbled and wiped her wet cheeks as he crept toward me. “You’ll be alright. Just come here.” His arms were opened wide, his feet still moving, and his voice broken, splintered, like my heart, the very depth of me. “I’m so sorry, honey. There was nothing we could do.”
I choked on a gut-wrenching sob, my mind screaming denials. “He cannot be dead!” I jammed a pointed finger at him. “He is not dead.” Mine! Dominic was mine! Shaking hard, I demanded, “No, goddammit!”
Dominic’s dad was so close. Too close made this real. It couldn’t be real.
A cool breeze brushed my hand. A window. Mind raging, I screamed, “He. Cannot. Be. Dead!” Dark eyes, so like Dominic’s, gazed back at me with compassion. Almost on me.
Twisting sharply toward the window, I threw myself at it. The screen busted with the force of contact, flying out with me. I didn’t even feel the impact as I hit grass, rolling. I didn’t look back as I heard the shouts.
I ran.
Ran away from death that seemed to follow me everywhere. All I’d ever loved was dead.
I wasn’t going to deal tonight with my life’s mate gone forever.
My feet kept moving, my heart and Core shredded beyond repair.
Chapter Five
Sitting high on a tree branch — downwind — I watched my mate’s funeral service. Hugging the oak tree, no tears fell. There were none left. I had cried them all out during the four days since he had been shot in the head when Hell’s Gate was attacked. The bullet hadn’t even been silver. A blunder on the shooter’s account, but the wound had still been deadly. Even though I had been on the run, barely staying ahead of the Mys soldiers tracking me, I had watched the news.
I knew how my mate had died.
I also knew they were calling me the new Prodigy Shifter. The power passed to the mate if the Prodigy Shifter had already mated and the mate was a wolf. I fit all those categories. The power now warming me full was, indeed, the Prodigy Shifter power.
There were two problems.
One: I didn’t want it.
Two: I was a hybrid.
Two very important issues, although, all Mysticals worldwide would think my second issue more important than my first. Normally, Elders or Kings, one from each of the four factions, came together during an Awakening. The Elder, or King, who was part of your Mys faction led the change that brought you into your power, but the other three were needed. Four powers, side-by-side, but still individually separated, all but for a singular touch. Hence, the no hybrid Law. The reason for the Executioner. Why being me, a hybrid, was a death sentence walking.
There was logic behind their barbaric madness. If every Mys started breeding with one another, then there might eventually be no separation. No separation meant no Awakening. And no Awakening for a Mys meant death. Death meant the end of the Mys race altogether.
Although, understanding the reasons didn’t mean I would let myself be killed.
Here I was, now the Prodigy Shifter. I really didn’t care. I just knew I would gladly give this power to someone else. Then, get the hell out.
Sleep for a year. Or two.
In a cave.
In a deserted area.
Preferably, on another planet entirely.
I didn’t want to deal with anyone right then. Numbness had etched its way into my veins, and it wasn’t relinquishing its hold. I would never again have love like I’d had with Dominic. I was now forced to walk my life alone. I didn’t know any other way to feel but how I did.
The preacher was saying a lovely speech about Dominic. He had already said his main eulogy at the church, where I had secreted myself in the attic to hide from the Mysticals in the overfilled pews. Dominic’s dad had said a few words about him, as had a couple of his friends.
Staring at the black casket with the black wolf emblem, I heard the grass crunching softly behind the tree. Not moving, I inhaled deeply, and felt my eyebrows come together. I sniffed again, testing the air for traces of individuality. I knew that scent, but I couldn’t place it immediately.
Another deep inhale, stalling thoughtfully. Recognition dawning, I peered down. It had been over two years since I had scented him last, but he had been in my life for so long there was no disguising his scent, especially with my Shifter power now Awakened.
And still, I only felt numb.
I merely waited silently, watching as the Mage moved under the tree and leaned against the trunk with his hands in the pockets of his black dress slacks, noiselessly watching the funeral. No one near the casket could see me in the foliage of the tree, being so far away, but they could see him if they happened to look this way. Not wanting to get caught, and not stupid enough to think he didn’t know I was up here, I muttered softly, “Get up here.”
“Thank you. Your perch would probably have the better view,” Antonio, the only father figure I had known growing up, whom I had thought dead, stated quietly, not peering up at me. He toed off his black dress shoes before jumping agilely, grabbing the nearest branch. Appearing all of upper twenties in Com years (meaning he was probably close to eighty since Mysticals’ bodies aged like a Commoner until the age of twenty-two, then slowed down dramatically), he moved easily through the branches to sit on the limb beside me. After a few moments of silence, he whispered gently, “I’m sorry about Dominic, Lil.”
Hearing him say my nickname was odd. “Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say. No one was sorrier than me and, truly, words were only words. I would rather not hear them.
He seemed to understand this, his full attention back on the service, staying quiet.
Resting my head against the tree, I found it peculiarly comforting I could at least still feel the rough scratch of the bark on my cheek, even while being empty on the inside. Minutes passed as the preacher finished his kind words. I watched as the huge mass of Mysticals began saying their condolences to King Kincaid and Fi once again, absolutely knowing I was in the correct spot. I wouldn’t have been able to handle that.
Watching the mourners walk to their vehicles, Antonio eventually broke our silence, asking, “Are you hungry? I have a turkey sandwich in the car.” Not the words I had expected.
With a slow blink, I realized my stomach was growling loudly. I tried to remember the last time I had eaten, but couldn’t remember when. Never a good thing for a Vampire.
“I also have a few bags of blood,” he murmured gently.
I swallowed hard. I hadn’t quenched my blood thirst since Dominic had died. Now that he was gone, I would have to start back on the bags-o-blood. The thought made me more than slightly nauseous.
He rested the palm of his hand softly, lovingly, on my cheek. “Let’s go for a ride. You can eat while we talk.”
“That’s why you’re here?” I asked, voice void of emotion. “You want to talk with me after leaving without even a goodbye?” The last time I had seen him, it had been the day of my Vampire Awakening when he and my mom had brought two strangers – the Vampire and Elemental portions — to assist. Shortly afterward, he had walked out the door behind them, his feisty pet eagle with him. He had left us.
“It’s complicated. I had to go,” he stated tenderly, running his fingers through my hair. “I am sorry though, that I never gave you a proper goodbye.” He was being so gentle for the chilling man I knew he could be if he so wished.
Stomach rumbling again, I sighed. If he wanted to talk, he could talk. He would only find me again if I ran right now. Plus, I did have to eat. Two birds, one stone. “Fine. Let’s go.” A bag of blood rested in my clutching hand while I glared at it. I reall
y didn’t want to drink. It didn’t look appetizing at all; my attention was better served watching where Antonio was turning down a back road, driving at a slow pace in his Hummer. No frilly car for him, and nor had he ever had one. He was the person who had taught me the art of the getaway.
He pushed my hand higher, placing the bag closer to my mouth, not releasing his grip on my hand. “Get it over with, Lil. You look like shit. You’ll end up tearing into a throat if you don’t, and I would prefer it not be mine.”
I considered the sloshing, crimson liquid, and gulped back the rising bile in my throat. I had already scarfed down the turkey sandwich, chips, and soda. I probably should have waited until I had managed the blood first, but it was too late now.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and sliced my fangs into the sterile bag.
Gagging on the disgusting, cold, bland blood, I felt Antonio’s grip tighten on my hand, keeping the bag against my mouth when I started to yank it away. He ordered, “Drink up. You want to go at the neck later? Fine, but right now you need this. Drink.” His voice was kind, but still carried an underlying command.
I pinched my nose, sucking it down quickly.
Only to have him hold up another. “One more. You’ll have your color back then.”
Groaning, I did as ordered. Vile, nasty stuff. Tossing the second bag in the plastic trash sack, I grabbed the toothpaste he handed me. An ample amount went on my tongue.
He hadn’t spoken anything of significance yet, but in his now extended silence, I mumbled, “They think I’m going to be the Queen Shifter.” I didn’t want to talk about Dominic, so I didn’t lead with him. Best to ask Antonio how to get out of this mess I was in. “They’re telling the press I’m sick with grief. Recovering from my loss, instead of revealing I’m missing.”
Antonio’s fingers beat a rhythm only he heard on the steering wheel as he cocked his head, apparently thinking, while I began finger-brushing my teeth. He finally spoke when I was through, asking, “What makes you think you won’t be the Queen Shifter?”
I stared. “I’m a hybrid, Antonio. You know I can’t be. And I don’t want to be.”
He sighed heavily, resting further on the leather seat, still driving at a snail’s pace. “Not touching on the hybrid part, do you really think every previous King or Queen wanted to rule?” His golden brows rose as he stared into my eyes for too long to be done while driving. No wonder he was going so slow. “That they woke up one day, and thought, ‘boy, I get to run the entire world for my Mys group, and it’ll be so much fun?’” He shook his head. “No, Lil. I can guarantee almost all Rulers didn’t want their crown in the beginning. It’s not something they had to work for. It was just thrown on them from birth. Slammed so brutally onto their heads, they either learned to deal with it or took drastic measures to get away from it.”
“How do I get away from it? How do I give the power to someone else?”
He gave me the look. “The only way to transfer your Queen’s power is to die.”
“There’s no other loophole?” I asked, trying to think of anything else. “What about the person who would have gotten this power if Dominic hadn’t been mated? That person can have it!” I shook my head. “I can’t do this. I won’t be able to do the Awakenings. It would be ludicrous to put me on the throne.”
His sideways gaze held sympathy. “The power goes to who it’s supposed to. So it doesn’t matter who might have gotten it if Dominic hadn’t mated. You have it. It’s yours. There’s no passing the buck to someone else.” Antonio reached to open his glove compartment and pulled out a tiny, ancient book, dropping it on my lap. “Take a look at page fifty-four, third paragraph.”
Gingerly, I picked up the leather book. It was flaking it was so old. I carefully turned the tips of the pages until I got to page fifty-four. Skimming down the page, I found the third paragraph, and read aloud from the handwritten chicken scratch, “The unimaginable was proven tonight. They were wrong, and so, my son died in vain. All these years, I believed them. Joseph’s death justified. Needed. And now, I weep tears of torture, of anguish, for they were wrong. A hybrid can be used as a magical vessel for an Awakening. Joseph, my beautiful boy, I am so sorry. I will surely burn in Hell for what I let him do.” Immediately, I stopped, flipping back a few pages. It was a journal, dated May 31, year rubbed out, unknown.
“It’s only a madman’s ramblings,” I mumbled, brows furrowed, gently closing the book and placing it back in the glove compartment, even as my heart fluttered. “Nothing more.”
“You know it’s hard for us to conceive compared to Coms,” he glanced to me, “a hybrid birth even more rare with self-induced faction separation, but in my extensive searches I’ve found more journals with similar words inscribed as written proof. I don’t believe those accounts are all mere insane ramblings. I believe them to be fact.”
“If they were true, then why would they continue killing hybrids?”
“Fear, most likely. If you had kept reading to the end of that journal, you would have found that the father kills himself out of shame, much like all the other accounts I’ve found. Nowhere in them did the parent indicate they’d tried to enlighten their Ruler of their findings.”
I stared blankly at the road ahead. “Even if that were true, I still don’t want to be Queen.” He obviously believed what he said, his words truth.
Antonio huffed irritably. “It’s time to grow up, kiddo. We don’t always get to pick what we want in life. You just make the best of the life you’re given.” Golden eyes rested unbreakably on mine. “Your life has been picked for you. It’s time to own up to it.”
Jaw clenching, I questioned, “Why have you been helping me my whole life, only to leave me, and then show up now?” My blue eyes held the same hardness he had given me. “You want me to own up to the truth? To reality? Then you can give me the same in return.” I waited, watching him closely, scenting the air.
He answered simply, “Because I must.” Truth.
I snorted. Nice evasive answer. “Who are you really?” He had left before I had been completely coherent after my first Awakening, last name an alias, and now, I could feel his power with my own humming in my Core, and his power was immense.
He hesitated. “An Elder.”
I blinked. “You were a King?” I hadn’t seen that coming.
A gradual nod. “Yes.”
I studied him even more closely. His age. My eyes unblinking, words measured. “You were a King fifty years ago when Mysticals came out.” The war. The upheaval. It all made sense now. How brutal he was at times. Everything he had taught me to keep myself alive.
Another nod. “It’s time you knew.”
“For being a King, you and Mom didn’t teach me shit about Mysticals.” My eyes didn’t venture away from him while I took in the fact that the King Mage, one of the four biggest bads during the war that had seized the world for ten years, had raised me, right beside my soft mom. It seemed so bizarre. They had always been an unusual pair. They hadn’t been lovers from what I could remember, but they had been roommates, co-parenting my upbringing.
The man I knew as my real dad had been King…and he was crazy powerful.
He snorted. “We taught you what you needed to know.”
“No wonder Mom trusted your spell on me.” The spell he put on me when I was a baby to hide my Vampire power from uncomfortable, curiosity-driven magical probes.
He shrugged. “It took me a few months to perfect it.”
Bit by bit, I turned my regard back to the road, muttering, “I know what road you’re on.” Of course I did. “Were you planning on asking me if I wanted to go back to King Kincaid’s? Or were you going to hogtie me and carry me inside?” Knowing who he was now, I wouldn’t put it past him.
Even though he was an Elder, Antonio wasn’t killing me on the spot for being a hybrid because he believed I could handle an Awakening, leaving me no other option but to believe it, too. For now. Only time would tell. I sure as hell didn
’t plan on blabbing to anyone anytime soon about what I was.
His lips twitched. “I would prefer you go peacefully.” He wasn’t kidding.
Eyes on the road ahead, I pointed a defeated finger onward. “Take me to the King’s home.” He nodded, pressing harder on the gas pedal, and I remarked vaguely, “I met my biological father.”
He was silent for a few beats. “What do you think of Atticus Venclaire?”
Confirmation. Of course, he knew. “He seems nice enough.” I shrugged, brushing breadcrumbs off my black shirt. I didn’t give a shit anymore about trendy clothes. I was going to let out my inner darkness through my attire. “Do you know him well? What do you think of him?”
“I always liked the young man,” Antonio stated. And I guess, to him, King Venclaire was younger. Forty years younger. “The few times I met him, he was charming, and very kind to your mother.” He hesitated, golden eyes flicking to mine. “I believe he truly cared for her.”
I nodded. “I got that off him.” I added, so he knew, “I haven’t told anyone about me being a hybrid. Only Dominic knew.” I stopped, my mind going numb mentioning his name.
Antonio pulled to a stop at King Kincaid’s gated property, which was now heavily guarded, rolling his window down to speak to the patrol at the entrance. “Elder Farrar to see King Kincaid.”
It was then I knew his actual last name — knowledge a daughter generally had.
The Shifter’s eyes went wide, clearly in shock, and he sputtered unintelligibly while nodding his head rapidly. I don’t even think he noticed me. He jumped into his little booth and the gates instantly opened. Guess he knew who Antonio was. He was on the phone only a moment later as we began driving through. At least King Kincaid would have a little warning.
Strolling inside the full foyer with Mysticals milling everywhere, all talking quietly and respectfully, all here mourning Dominic, I stared with void eyes, my heart shriveling even further; I was seriously hoping they didn’t approach me right now.
King Hall Page 6