by Kallysten
And still, even after witnessing his fight, Vivien could hardly believe that Brad could or would hurt anyone, let alone her. Could it have been a prank? Fake blood, retractable blades, some elaborate act... The university had a very active role-playing group; she’d seen them on campus before, wearing realistic helmets and carrying swords as though they had been on their way to kill a dragon rather than off to attend a chemistry lecture. But why here, why now, why involve her?
Before she could make up her mind to run, it was already too late. They had reached an apartment building, and Brad guided her to a first-floor apartment. He reached to open the door, and as she watched his wrist when he turned the key in the lock, she realized it was all even worse than she had thought.
The skin on the inside of his wrist was pale and clean, free of any tattoo.
It wasn’t Brad. This man—this killer—had Brad’s face and voice, but he wasn’t—couldn’t be—Brad. Were they brothers? Twins? Or was it only a mask? An extraordinary coincidence?
It didn’t matter.
She jerked back, finally knowing what she had to do, if not what was going on. The only reason she had followed this man was because she had thought she knew him, and part of her had believed him when he said he had been protecting her. But if he wasn’t Brad, how could she believe anything he said?
She turned around, finally ready to escape, and gasped when she almost ran straight into Brad. Or was it someone else who only looked like Brad? Needing to know, she took hold of his hand and turned his wrist upward. The familiar tattoo gleamed under the hallway lights. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Brad’s gaze flew between Vivien and his doppelganger.
“What happened?”
“Inside,” the other man grunted, at the same time as Vivien said, “Help me! He killed two men!”
Brad’s reaction was nothing Vivien could have expected. His hand twisted in Vivien’s grip so that he captured hers and pulled her in through the open door.
“Only two?” he asked the other man. “Are there more coming?”
Never before had the sound of a closing door seemed so ominous.
“Probably. He sent us to get her, but knowing him, he sent another unit as back up.”
Stunned, Vivien let herself be led to an old, battered sofa that had seen better days. Her knees all but gave in under her and she sat, clutching her hands in front of her, watching the two men standing in front of her like mirror images of each other. Brad reached for the other man’s face and rubbed off the dried blood on his cheek with his thumb. The cut underneath was little more than a pale line, as though it’d been healed for days.
“Do you think they’re vampires, too?”
Vivien frowned, now certain she had heard wrong—either that, or it was all just a big game. Not-Brad never even cracked a smile at the word ‘vampire.’
“Probably. A unit usually has two vampires and a channeler. You did shield—”
“This place? Of course. With all the Quickening I could gather. She’s safe here. But if they’re looking for traces of channeling, they’ll find us fast. We should get her home and soon.”
At that, they both turned to look down at her. Yet again, Vivien was struck by how similar they looked. Still...something in the way they held themselves set them apart. Brad seemed more relaxed, while his double stood straight, his shoulders squared. He seemed ready to jump into action at a moment’s notice. And then, there were their eyes. Brad’s eyes were a pale blue, like a bright sky. The other man’s were blue-gray, almost metallic looking.
“What’s going on?” Vivien breathed. She hated how much her voice trembled, and tried to firm up her words when she said, “If this is all just a joke, I swear—”
“Vivien, no.” Brad stepped closer and sat on the sofa near her, his body angled toward her. “This is not a joke. You are in danger, and Aedan—” He nodded at the other man, who had retreated to stand by the wall. “—and I want nothing more than to keep you safe.”
“Safe from who?” She shook her head. “Who is he?” she gestured at—Aedan, was it? “Why did he kill those men rather than just call the police?” And speaking of the police... She held her hand out toward Aedan, palm up. “I want my phone back.”
Aedan didn’t move. His eyes were on her, as cold as ever, but he didn’t seem to have heard a word of what she said. He was as immobile as a statue, his hands at his side close to the knives. He was so still, in fact, he didn’t even appear to breathe.
“Safe from a very powerful man called Rhuinn,” Brad said, drawing her attention back to him. “He’s the ruler of our world. Aedan is my twin. He killed those men because they were after you and the police couldn’t have done a thing to stop them. And that is also why we are not going to call them.”
Annoyance coursed through Vivien, chasing away what remained of her fear. He had answered each of her questions, and still he hadn’t explained anything. She closed her hands into fists and stood. At once, both brothers tensed.
“You’re not making any sense,” she said as calmly as she could. “I’m going home.”
Without a word, without even a sound, Aedan slid three steps to the right to stand in front of the door. Brad sighed softly and took Vivien’s hand, holding on to it even as she tried to pull away.
“Please, Vivien. There are things you need to know. I tried to convince Anabel that she should tell you, but she wanted to wait for your birthday. I’m afraid we can’t wait another three weeks.”
Vivien’s heart jumped inside her chest as though trying to break free. Her knees weakened, and she sat down again—or rather, she let herself fall.
“How...how do you know Anabel?” Her words barely seemed loud enough over the thumping of her heartbeat in her ears. “How do you know when my birthday is? What on Earth is going on!”
The smallest of smiles flickered on Brad’s lips, as though she had said something amusing. He soon regained his gravity, however, and proceeded, again, to answer each of her questions in turn—and raise a dozen more with each word.
“Anabel and I have the same duty: to protect you. Sometimes we disagree on how to do that best. I know when your birthday is because I’ve been waiting for you to turn twenty to finally bring you home to Foh’Ran. But it looks like Rhuinn decided he wouldn’t wait for you to come and challenge him for your birthright. He sent his guards to snatch you. If Aedan hadn’t been there, they might have done just that.”
Still trying to process his words and order her thoughts, Vivien let her gaze drift between the two brothers.
Standing still against the wall, Aedan asked, “Why were you not with her, anyway? I told you he was getting restless.”
Embarrassment drifted over Brad’s features like a shadow, reawakening Vivien’s own. Had it been hours ago that she had asked him on a date? It felt like a lot more time had passed, but that might have been an effect of how confused she felt.
“I lost her at school,” Brad muttered before looking back at Vivien. “It would have been easier if I could just have told you, but Anabel was dead set against it, and she made me promise not to say a word to you until she did. She was mad at me for even talking to you.”
These words, at least, seemed to make sense. From the first time Vivien had mentioned Brad, Anabel had bristled at the mere mention of his name. It wasn’t too difficult to accept that they did know each other. But the rest...
“I don’t understand,” Vivien said. She twirled the ring on her thumb round and round, keeping her hands busy while her mind tried to piece things together. “Why would anyone want to hurt me? Why would you want to protect me?”
Brad’s gaze was too strong for Vivien to hold, his eyes narrow and intense as though he were willing her to believe him. She lowered her eyes and noticed he was rubbing his fingers against the swirls of the tattoo on the inside of his left wrist.
“Aedan and I are both part of the QuickSilver Guard,” he said in a low, vibrating voice. “We swore to protect the true
heir to the throne of Foh’Ran from the usurper king.”
Vivien looked up, holding her breath. She had a feeling she knew what he would say next. And indeed, his words turned solemn when he intoned, “We swore an oath to protect you.”
“I’m nobody’s heir,” she protested. “I’m just a girl. My parents died in a car crash.”
Aedan’s voice rose, slow but strong. It was the first time he addressed Vivien since Brad’s arrival.
“Your mother was Eleoren Te Celden. She was the ruler of our world, the seventh in the line of Celden rulers that began with Lahien the Great. She did not die in a car crash.” He sneered at the words. “She was murdered for being too favorable to vampire rights four years after she sent you to the Otherworld for your own protection.”
Vivien stared at him. He had recited those names as though they meant the world to him, as though she was supposed to trust every word he said when all she knew about him was that he was a killer.
“This is crazy. Why should I believe you?”
Aedan didn’t bat an eyelash, but his eyes seemed to gleam with a metallic reflection. “Whether you believe me or not is irrelevant, Dame Vivien. You are safe. You will remain safe. That is all that matters to me.”
“Aedan,” Brad said, the word heavy with reproach. “If she doesn’t believe us, how can she ever trust us?”
“Our vows said nothing about trust. Once we Pass Through, she’ll have no choice but to believe. We should go now.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Vivien said. “Not until you start making sense.”
To her own ears, her voice sounded plaintive. This was all too much, too strange.
“I know it’s a lot to take in all at once,” Brad said. “I’m sorry, I wish I knew how to make it easier on you.”
He patted Vivien’s hand where it lay on the sofa between them. A few feet away, his brother shifted, crossing his arms. It was the first time he had moved since planting himself near the wall. Vivien looked straight up at him; his foreboding frown sent a shiver down her spine, and her gaze dropped to the knives at his waist.
This man, supposedly from a different world, had killed, again supposedly to protect her from would-be kidnappers. He and his twin brother—that, at least, Vivien could believe; the only differences she could see between them were the lack of tattoo on Aedan’s wrist and his strangely colored eyes—claimed to have sworn to protect her because she was some kind of princess...
No. Just, no.
There were limits to Vivien’s open-mindedness, and this all was far beyond those limits. She pursed her lips rather than say anything. She didn’t dare look at either of them and meet their eyes. If she did, she was afraid they would realize she didn’t believe one word of what Brad had said, and who knew what they would do, then, too caught up in their delusions to mind killing.
She had to find a way out, get away from them, get to a phone—get to Anabel and have her confirm this was all nothing but lies.
Why she needed confirmation, Vivien wasn’t entirely sure.
“Can I...”
Go, was what she wanted to say, but with Aedan still standing in front of the door, she already knew the answer. She pressed both hands to her face and when she started over, her words came out muffled.
“Can I freshen up a bit? I’m still sweaty from my run. I need to clear my mind.”
Brad sprung to his feet at once.
“Of course. This way, please.”
Vivien stood, keeping her eyes down, uncomfortably aware that Aedan was still staring at her. She followed Brad to the bathroom, and tried her best to offer him a smile without looking any higher than his mouth. To think that earlier she had asked him on a date...
She closed the door behind her, and held her breath as she locked it, almost expecting protests to rise from the other side. When there was no reaction from her captors—because by now, she had trouble thinking of them as anything else—she quickly assessed the room. Shower in the corner, toilet, sink and mirror, and most importantly a full-size window. She could have wept at the sight of it.
Vivien took a step forward, and almost jumped when two knocks sounded behind her.
“Yes?” she said in a weak voice.
“There are fresh towels under the sink.”
She had to bite back a bark of nervous laughter.
“Thank you.”
At the sink, she didn’t check for towels, but she did turn the water on full blast. How long would her alibi give her before Brad came to check on her again? She had no time to lose. She approached the window and, holding her breath, tugged on the lock. It opened without trouble. Vivien braced her fingers against the frosted glass panels and, very slowly, pushed up. The window creaked. Vivien winced and stilled.
She listened, holding her breath, wondering if Brad or his brother would soon be forcing their way inside to stop her. When she couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the water running in the sink, she continued to push the window up again, one inch at a time, until the opening was wide enough for her to slip through. She paused then, looking back at the closed door and asking herself what she was doing. Would she be safe alone out in the open? What if there were more of those men out there, and they found her?
But was she safe here, with a man who had pretended to befriend her and another who had killed without a second thought? With two men who had fed her an insane story of kings, killers for hire, and sworn bodyguards?
Maybe she was making a mistake by running away, but she was not used to letting others direct her life. She propped the window open and raised one leg high, sliding it out over the sill, then following with her upper body. She was lucky the apartment was on the first floor, and landed behind a line of raggedy bushes.
Night had fallen while she listened to fairy tales. She glanced around to orient herself, then squeezed out between two bushes. She started to run before she even reached the street. Her house wasn’t very far; she’d run there and finally call the police. Better that than to stop and talk to anyone. She wasn’t sure whom she could trust anymore, and who might turn out to be a raving lunatic.
CHAPTER FOUR
Echoes
The beginning of dizziness and the burning taste of bile at the back of her throat caused Vivien to slow down when she reached her street. She’d been running as fast as she could the entire way. Her breath coming out in sharp little pants, she walked up the driveway and to the side door.
She’d thought of calling the police as soon as she reached the house, but now that she was there, something else was more pressing. She needed to hear Anabel say this was all nothing more than nonsense, and of course her parents had not been king and queen of some strange land. It was all just silly.
“Ana?” she called as soon as she entered.
Nothing but silence answered Vivien’s call. She crossed the kitchen, heading straight for the front room where Anabel received customers for her readings. The light above the door was still on, but Vivien didn’t care at that moment if she interrupted Anabel when she was about to reveal to a conflicted woman which of her suitors she should choose. They were all much too old for make-believe.
The front room had once been her favorite playground as a little girl, and she had pretended to herself that the room had magic of its own, magic Anabel drew upon to reveal the future to her customers. Vivien had long since stopped believing in magic, however, and she couldn’t even remember the last time she had been in there.
As soon as she pushed the door open, a strong, familiar scent flowed over her, calling her back to her childhood. The sweetness of Anabel’s ever-present tea, mixed with the deeper scent of incense, formed an aroma that was always overpowering at first, and that would cause anyone—except Anabel—to feel a little groggy after a while.
Without the many candles that usually lit the room, Vivien couldn’t see much. Thick velvet drapes covered the windows, their deep purple matching the color of the walls and making the room appear even darker tha
n it was. One thing was all too apparent, though: Anabel wasn’t there.
Vivien turned around and rushed up the stairs, heading straight to Anabel’s room. It was empty as well, but Vivien gasped when she saw it. The state of the room spoke of a break-in, with furniture upturned and clothes strewn all over. Her heart hammering in her chest, Vivien started down the hallway again, pausing in front of another open door to stare in disbelief.
Her room had been tossed as well, the linens striped off the bed, clothes pulled from the closet and dresser and thrown onto the floor, her laptop lying in two pieces at opposite ends of the room. Unbidden, tears of anger rose to her eyes. Who could have done this, and why? What had they been looking for? More importantly, where was Anabel?
Rushing back downstairs to the phone, Vivien suddenly noticed the small, dark drops splattered on the linoleum, more of them close to the door to the front room. Was it...
She gulped and entered the front room again, her hand fumbling against the wall to find the switch Anabel never used. The light bulb above her flickered to life and cast a bright light on the room. For a moment, everything looked as it should be, with the two armchairs facing each other around the narrow table just waiting for Anabel to receive a customer. Even the cards were already in place for a reading, set in a neat pile in the center of the table.
One card had tumbled to the floor, however; ‘the future,’ Anabel called it. It depicted a little girl, her hands cupped one on top of the other as though she were protecting something. Without thinking, Vivien stepped forward to pick it up. When her fingers brushed against the carpet, however, her heart jumped to her throat and she pulled back, forgetting the card to stare at the large stain obscuring the abstract flowers on the carpet. She moved back until her shoulder hit the doorjamb. She froze, then, raising her left hand to clutch the wood and remain upright.
She had watched a man die, earlier. She remembered the blood pooling under him, thick and dark—as thick, as dark as the blood coating her fingers now.