by Keary Taylor
We pull up to our house, a beautifully restored home that was originally built in 1801. It’s old. Kind of like us.
The minute we walk into the house, Eshan darts up the stairs, stripping off his graduation gown. I hear him upstairs rifling through his things, checking last minute for anything he’s going to need.
“Are you sure you can handle this?” Cyrus asks, lingering in the foyer with me. “After three years, you’re ready to just let him take off on his own?”
I smile as I step forward, wrapping my arms around his waist. A wicked smile grows on his lips as he looks down at me.
“Are you kidding?” I say, teasing him with my eyes. “I’m ready to finally have that honeymoon. Eshan’s a big boy. I’ll only worry about him once every five minutes now, instead of every two.”
Cyrus shakes his head at me, but tilts his head down and presses a kiss to my lips.
Footsteps thunder on the stairs and Eshan rounds into the foyer just as I open my mouth to let Cyrus’ tongue inside.
“That, I will never miss,” he says in disgust. He hardly even looks at me as he walks right past us and into the kitchen. I hear him dig through the pantry, and I’m pretty sure I hear him dump half of it into his already stuffed backpack.
We talk, reminiscing on the past three years as we drive to the airport. On his soccer games. On the school dances he was too chicken to go to his junior year, and finally got the nerve to go to his senior.
We’ve had a good life here in Alabama.
We’ve managed to lay low. To stay away from the insanity of the world.
But now Eshan’s going to join it. He’s jumping right into the middle of it.
We arrive at the Pensacola airport fifty minutes later. And it finally hits me. Emotions tug at my eyes, pull at my heartstrings as we walk him to the security gate.
“You sure you got enough underwear, or whatever?” I ask, trying to think what mom would have said in this situation.
“Are you serious?” he asks, laughing, adjusting the strap of his backpack.
I laugh and shake my head. “If you have clean underwear is no longer my concern,” I say, stepping forward and pulling him into a hug.
“All you need is seven pair,” Cyrus says. “One for each day of the week, right?”
Eshan laughs, letting go of me and hugging my husband. “Exactly. And then you can just turn them inside out and you’re good to avoid laundry for another week.”
“That is disgusting,” I say with a gag.
It’s a good laugh. But really, we’re all having a hard time with this goodbye.
“Well,” Eshan says, adjusting that strap again. “I only got twenty minutes.”
I nod, ignoring the emotions that well in my eyes. “Okay,” I say. “We’ll call you in a week and let you know where we are.”
Eshan nods.
“I’m proud of you, Eshan,” Cyrus says. And no one could doubt his sincerity if they looked in his eyes. “You’re doing an incredible thing. I don’t think there’s anyone more qualified. You’re the kind of leader we need in this new world.”
A scuffle to our left draws everyone’s eyes. Five police officers tackle a man whose eyes are suddenly glowing red. They break out their stunners, designed specifically to take down vampires.
They aren’t prohibited from traveling on airplanes, but one wrong look and they’re taken into custody of the VBI—the Vampire Bureau of Investigation.
It’s a common sight, one I fear will lead to intervention from the Crimson State, formerly known as the state of Kansas, where fifty percent of the United States vampire population has moved to and declared their own territory, with their own rules and government.
“Do good things, E,” I say, hugging him one last time.
“Promise,” he says.
And then I let him go. He gives me one last smile, and then heads to security.
I watch him until he’s gone, holding hands with Cyrus.
After doing amazing in school, considering all the adjustments he had to make, Eshan got a revered apprenticeship with the International Vampire Peace Alliance. They’re an independent agency that formed a year after the exposure. They aren’t tied to any government agencies, because those proved to be a chaotic nightmare within six months. They’re a group of leaders and citizens who work with prominent vampire leaders, some Royals and House leaders, some who have big family ties, or are simply individuals that others flock to.
He’ll spend the summer there helping make the world a better place. And then in the fall, he’s going to the new Integration University in Chicago.
My brother is going to help make the world a better place.
I watch as he disappears through security. He gives one last wave, and then he disappears toward his gate.
“You ready?” Cyrus asks.
I nod.
We return to the car, but only to grab our own bags hidden in the trunk.
Eshan knew that we were going to be leaving Alabama soon after he left, but he didn’t realize that we were taking a flight only an hour after his own.
We’ve been based in Alabama for nearly three years now. But much of the world recognizes our faces from those news reports Moab did, exposing us and our kind to the world. To stay safe, to stay hidden, we have to move. We have to go underground again.
It’s time for a freaking honeymoon.
I’m so ready for Fiji.
We make it through security without issue, and we head to our gate.
I look around at all the couples as we wait to board. We’re obviously not the only honeymooners.
But that doesn’t deter Cyrus from taking my hand and pressing his lips to the back of it. I look over at him and meet his smoldering, dark green eyes.
It was his eyes that I first fell in love with. All this time later, I still fall in love with them, every day.
“I’m going to give you the life I promised you,” Cyrus says, his lips brushing against my skin, sending flashes of heat through my core. “We’re going to be happy, Logan.”
I smile, leaning forward. I touch my lips to his. “I am happy,” I say quietly. “I love the life we have had.”
He reaches a hand up, brushing his fingers along my jaw as he kisses me, deeper. Longer.
After all this time, it’s finally our time. Time for us.
No more fighting. No more leading. No more making rules and laws. No more balls and politics and walking on eggshells.
It’s just now.
It’s our time.
Logan and Cyrus. Until the end.
Chapter 27
Even all the way out here, in this remote corner of the world, two miles off shore of the main island, we manage to pull together a birthday party.
There aren’t a lot of us here. It’s me and Cyrus. It’s Eshan. It’s Elle, and her very surprisingly human husband Lexington, and their three kids. It’s Amelia and Trevor and their two kids. It’s Alivia, but she’s only here because of me. It’s not Ian Ward.
We sing the classic rendition of Happy Birthday, and Cyrus sits at the head of the table with the German Chocolate cake in front of him, the candles dancing on top of it.
I smile at him as we sing, and my heart flutters.
There are crow’s feet developing around his eyes. Little flecks of salt and pepper are showing along his temples.
He’s just growing hotter with every passing year.
He might be thousands of years old, but physically, he’s thirty-seven today.
His actual birthday got lost a long, long time ago, and time wasn’t measured in the same way back then. So he picked one. The day that the war ended in Roter Himmel and we started our new life.
September nineteenth.
Cyrus is thirty-seven. He spent over two thousand years stuck at twenty-seven.
I cut the cake and everyone is happy and relaxed and together in the most beautiful way as we eat the cake and ice cream.
I watch them, marveling at the normalcy we’ve maintained when th
e world has turned into such a dark and chaotic place.
But I don’t want to think about that now.
I want to think about Elle and Lexington, my aunt and, I guess, uncle. I want to watch their bickering and teasing kids who are turning into adults—Aster, George, and Penny. I’d rather laugh about Cyrus teasing Alivia, and her getting all flustered about it.
But the TV is on in the background, and the satellite channel changes to the news.
I sit on the hearth of the fireplace, and when the next news story pulls up, my eyes lock on it.
It’s quiet, not very loud, and no one else is here in the living room, so I’m the only one that hears it.
“Today marks the ten year anniversary since the commencement of the battle at Roter Himmel.” The woman with black hair and dark eyes gives the report like she’s talking about something normal, and not something that changed the entire world. “It also marks the day that the world’s largest game began.”
A picture fills the screen.
It’s of a piece of paper staked to the front doors of the castle with a knife. On it is elegant and careful handwriting.
“On this day, ten years ago, the hunt for the Crown of King Cyrus began, marking the disappearance of the man who created the vampire race, and his wife, known as Queen Sevan.”
The picture zooms in, and the words become clearer.
“The hunt has taken Born, Bitten, even human alike on what seems to be a wild goose chase from one end of the earth to another. So far, any attempts to find the Crown of King Cyrus have been unsuccessful.”
Now the words are easy to read.
They’re there, clear as day, written in Cyrus’ hand.
A MAN WHO VENTURES INTO IMMORTALITY FOR HIS OWN GAIN AND GRANDURE WILL FIND HIMSELF ALONE, OVER AND OVER AGAIN. A MAN WHO USES IT TO BETTER HIMSELF AND THE WORLD AROUND HIM IS A MAN WHO WILL FIND HIS LIFE IN HIS IMMORTALITY.
AS THE END OF MY WORLD ARRIVES, AND WE FIND OURSELVES AT THE START OF A NEW ONE, I REMOVE MY CROWN. MY ERA HAS CONCLUDED.
THIS IS MY FINAL GAME.
THE FINAL GAME OF KING CYRUS.
THE WORLD LOOKS TO A LEADER WHO WEARS A CROWN.
BUT FIRST IT MUST BE FOUND. ONLY THEN WILL MY CREATIONS HAVE A TRUE KING OR QUEEN.
A LEADER MUST BE KIND. A LEADER MUST BE WISE. A LEADER MUST BE EVENHANDED.
THE WORLD IS LARGE, THE WORLD IS COLD. AND IN THE HEART OF DARKNESS, IN THE HEART OF HELL, THAT LEADER SHALL BE CROWNED.
At the bottom of the letter, there is a picture of Cyrus’ crown drawn.
I never knew what Cyrus had to take care of, our last day in the castle. I hadn’t guessed what he’d had in that bag before he disappeared.
Even I have no idea where the crown is hidden. I don’t care to ask.
Cyrus has always loved games. He has always loved to watch people scramble to figure out his puzzles.
Of course he had walked out of that world with the biggest one yet. The one that would set the entire world into a frenzy.
The hunt for the crown of King Cyrus.
I smile as I walk back into the kitchen, and set my plate on the kitchen island.
Ignoring the guests that are enjoying their cake at the table, Cyrus joins me, sliding a hand into my back pocket before leaning down and kissing my lips.
“Thank you for the lovely birthday surprise,” he says.
I turn, wrapping my arms behind his neck. He tips down, pressing his lips to mine.
I forget that we’re surrounded by friends and family. My fingers lace into his hair and his grip on my back and waist tightens, claiming me as his forever.
Against his lips, I smile. “Anything, im yndmisht srtov.”
* * *
THE END
Acknowledgments
I really can’t quite believe that I’ve been in this world for this long, and I also can’t quite believe that this is the end. I have loved being in this Universe, as evident by the fact that I couldn’t leave it for such a long time.
* * *
I need to thank three people in particular who got me through to the end: Sarah, JanaLee, and Lauren. You have each helped me through all of these books and you’ve been so willing and happy to do it. I can hardly express how much I appreciate all of you!
* * *
Thank you to my Street Team who have done so much work in helping spread the word about these books. You are all my friends and I love you for everything you do!
* * *
Thank you to you as the reader. If you’re reading these words, you are the reason why I can keep writing. Thank you for believing in me and for trusting me with your time. I hope I can create more worlds that you will love as much as this one.
About the Author
Keary Taylor is the USA TODAY bestselling author of over twenty novels. She grew up along the foothills of the Rocky Mountains where she started creating imaginary worlds and daring characters who always fell in love. She now splits her time between a tiny island in the Pacific Northwest and Utah, dragging along her husband and their two children. She continues to have an overactive imagination that frequently keeps her up at night.