“Yes well, breakfast first. Shall we?”
I ignored the elbow he offered me, sidestepped Tiny and stalked down the steps on my own. I heard Isaiah and Archer descending the steps behind me; neither was speaking, but I could feel their eyes burning holes into the back of my skull. It was a task to concentrate on not tripping over my own feet going down. I felt so watched.
At the bottom of the steps, Isaiah stopped. “I’ll see you when you’re finished,” he said.
I agreed and turned to follow Archer the rest of the way.
The dining room was not in the basement as Delphi tried to have me believe. In fact, the dining room was nowhere near the basement and was probably the most beautiful room I had ever seen.
Washed in warm, white light, the room gleamed like some Mr. Clean commercial. Sheets of ivory and marble glinted beneath the wave of sunlight pouring through the wall of French doors running along one entire wall. Lace curtains danced in a breeze drizzled with the fragrance of lavender and jasmine. The scent swept through the cavernous room to surround the twelve or so people seated around a long, rectangular table made of solid marble. Plates of silver and gold held mountains of deliciously scented foods that made my stomach knot.
My hands trembled as I pressed them into my gut, willing back the hunger. Sweat broke out across my brow and dampened the back of my t-shirt. I prayed to God I didn’t go savage in front of all those people—in front of Ashton.
“Fallon.” Ashton waved me away from the threshold, motioning me to take the empty seat on his right.
I edged a step in, my gaze darting from him to the display of food and I gritted my teeth. Maybe if I held my breath, I could stave off the monster.
Archer reached my chair before I did and drew it out with an inclination of his head. I slipped into it and was nudged deeper under the table, closer to the food. I was vaguely aware of Celia sitting across from me and the eleven other pairs of eyes watching me like I was some kind of science experiment.
“Who is this, Acheron?” came a nasally woman’s voice.
“This is Fallon. She is a guest at the manor.”
Not his daughter. A guest. Some stranger couch-surfing in his pad. Yeah he said not to tell anyone who I was, but I hadn’t expected his lack of acknowledgement to hurt as much as it did, which was kind of ironic considering he never really acknowledged me in the first place.
“Fallon,” someone said, making me look up from my plate. It was a woman with hair so white it glinted in the light like freshly fallen snow. It looked soft like cotton and was elegantly styled to frame an oval face with eyes the exact replica of mine. She sat in the seat next to Celia, wearing a dress suit the color of ripe plums. She gave me an appraising glance. “How familiar you seem.”
“Uh…” My gaze darted to Ashton, then back when he merely stared back at me, being no help at all. “I have one of those faces?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Perhaps.”
“Fallon, this is my mother, Odalyn.”
“Moth…” I trailed off as I realized what that meant; I had a grandmother. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Curtsy? but I was already sitting down. So I did the next best thing, I waved … like an idiot. “Hi!”
I should have curtsied.
A ghost of a smile curled her bright, red lips. “Pleasure.”
“Yeah, you too.” I was staring. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t look away. A grandmother! Stop staring! I quickly turned back to Ashton, who offered me a small knowing grin.
He motioned further along the table, next to Odalyn. “My brothers, Keane, Voss and Arlin. Voss’ wife, Katreena, their son Aries and their daughter, Zaphara.”
The brothers were the spitting image of Ashton, with the same dark hair, hazel eyes and movie star features. But only Voss was actually smiling. The other two looked like I’d just spat in their cereal. Arlin was on the stockier side with wider shoulders and Keane was broader in the chest, but the resemblance all around was undeniable.
Voss’ wife, Katreena was a beautiful woman with skin the color of a latte and a body made to grace the cover of some Paris magazine. Her dark hair hung around her thin shoulders, framing her exotic features with full red lips, enormous brown eyes and high cheekbones. She smiled at me kindly, which I returned.
Then there was Aries, and it was a little jarring just how not like his parents he was. Short and round, he had a head full of curly brown hair and squinty brown eyes. His face was littered with a million freckles under a sweaty flush. He was frowning deeply, knitting his bushy brows together. He sat hunched in his seat, arms folded as he glowered at his empty plate. His sister, Zaphara was a miniature-sized version of their mother, but with a scowl that could rival her brother. She was not happy to meet me, if the ice daggers she shot at me from her eyes were any indication.
“Nice to meet you,” I murmured, speaking to Voss and Katreena.
Katreena inclined her head, but neither spoke.
Ashton continued, turning his gesturing arm to my side of the table and the person next to me. “My sister, Lav…” he trailed off and cleared his throat when Vinnie shot him a warning glower. “Vinnie,” he finished quickly.
Vinnie clicked her tongue and pointed a finger gun at her brother. “Good catch, little brother.”
Little brother? My dad was a little brother? There was something comical about that.
“Only by twelve minutes, a fact you never let me live down.” It was said tersely, but there was no mistaking the grin in his voice.
“You’re a twin?” The question blurted out of my mouth without a single shred of consent from me.
Ashton’s hazel eyes landed on me, his amusement more pronounced in the quirk of his lips. “That’s what I’m told.”
“It’s always been a sore subject with our dear Ach,” Vinnie commented.
“And yet I get the fancy chair,” Ashton said, leaning back in the high back seat with its gilded frame and red velvet cushioning.
“It could have been mine if I wanted it,” Vinnie retorted airily. “Luckily for you, I don’t.”
Chuckling, Ashton shook his head. “Beside the ever exaggerating Vinnie is—”
I never got to find out who sat on Vinnie’s other side. In that moment, a series of voices interrupted the group and all heads turned in the direction of the doorway and the tall, beautifully aged man who stalked in as though he owned the world. His square face was set in a hard line of disapproval beneath the razor straight mustache over his firmly set mouth. Wisps of silky white hair fluttered with every dominating stride as he claimed the distance. He held a walking stick in one gloved hand, but he never used it. The silver dragon on the head glinted in the light. Around his long legs, the hem of his coat flapped, flying open to reveal the expensive suit underneath. This was a man who knew he possessed immeasurable power and had no qualms about showing it.
Eyes the piercing blue of glaciers made a fleeting sweep over the table before finding and locking on Ashton.
“What is the meaning of this, Reaghan?” He swept his free hand towards the door and the trio darkening the threshold.
Two clad in dark suits I didn’t recognize, but the figure trapped between them, arms clasped at his back, unconscious…
“Isaiah!” I shot out of my seat. “Get off him!”
Those piercing eyes snapped to me and narrowed. “Who are you?”
I felt my anger bubbling in the pit of my stomach, raging with the hunger already churning there. I tried to stifle it back, to stop it before it could consume me, but already I knew it was a losing battle.
I was only vaguely aware of the hushed murmurs circulating the table. There were words like human? And here? But I wasn’t paying attention. My fingers curled at my sides.
“Let him go,” I hissed. Sharp nails cut into my palms, drawing blood.
“Fallon.” Ashton was on his feet and at my side. His hand touched my shoulder. “It’s all right.”
“Who is this?” The man stopped five
feet from where I stood, trembling as I struggled to restrain myself from ripping his throat out.
It was a bad time for him to test me. I was already on the verge of losing control. This was not helping.
“Quain, please, let the boy go.” Ashton moved away from me to approach the man.
“He is human,” the man said, spitting out the word as though it were something foul. “A human, Reaghan. What are you thinking?”
“Father.” Archer rose out of his seat. “Perhaps this isn’t the place.”
“Arcarius, this does not concern you.”
Ashton put a hand up, silencing the two. He turned to the man and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Let’s discuss this in the library.” He glanced at me. “Why don’t you come with us? You too, Archer … Arcarius,” he amended quickly when Quain bared his teeth in a deep, disapproving growl.
“I’m not going anywhere without Isaiah,” I said, my gaze fixed firmly on the man.
Ashton’s hands went up again before Quain could respond. “We will bring Isaiah with us. This would be best done in privacy.”
I had completely forgotten about the group hanging on our every word. Personally, I didn’t give a crap. But I followed the group when everyone started out of the room. I fell behind with the two holding Isaiah up.
“If anything happens to him,” I said, glancing from one to the other. “I will skin you both alive.”
I must have sounded scarier than I looked because the two exchanged quick, uncertain glances. They hefted Isaiah higher between them, and together we followed the group down a series of winding and never ending corridors.
At a set of enormous gold doors, the caravan paused. We waited as Ashton pushed them apart before shuffling in after him. Isaiah was draped over an elegant divan with red velvet upholstery. I ran to him before the other two could even step back. I shoved them aside and dropped down next to him.
“Isaiah?” I touched his ice cold cheek. He never moved, not even an eyelash. He was barely breathing. Every inhale shook as though it were a struggle. “What did you do to him?” I whipped my head around to pin Quain with all the rage boiling inside me. “What did you do?” I shot to my feet. “Fix it! Fix it now!”
“Fallon!” Ashton grabbed me before I could lunge for the guy’s face.
“Fix it!” I snarled, struggling against Ashton’s grip.
“He’s sleeping.” Archer appeared at his father’s side, his palms up. “He’ll be fine in a few minutes.”
I finally threw off Ashton’s hold on me and stood trembling before a man twice my size with my blood pumping and my nails extending into the torn skin of my palms. I felt the slick dampness of blood trickling from between my fingers to rain across the polished marble at my feet, but I didn’t care.
Kill him. Kill him! The voice pushed against the cavity of my brain, urging me to do what I was fighting so hard not to. I wasn’t a monster. I didn’t kill people, even if I wanted to, and did I ever want to.
“Stay away from him,” I bit out through my teeth. That was all the warning I would give him, I told myself. If he made one move towards Isaiah, I would drop him. I would do it without hesitation.
It must have shown on my face or sounded in my voice, because Ashton stepped between us, facing me.
“No one will touch him,” he said. “I promise.”
I swallowed. My spit tasted coppery, like blood and bile. I hadn’t realized how hard I was clenching my teeth. I tried to relax, tried to let it go, but the fury wouldn’t abate. I had to turn away. I made myself move and go to Isaiah. Maybe being near him would somehow keep me from killing.
It worked, but only just.
“Would you like to explain why you have a human in your region, Acheron?” Quain demanded.
“He is with my daughter,” Ashton replied quietly, like we might somehow be overheard. “He’s her guardian.”
I could feel Quain’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t trust myself to glance up from Isaiah’s slumbering form. “Your daughter no longer requires a guardian. She is home. You need to get rid of him.”
“We had a run in with the guard on our way home last night,” Ashton explained. “It’s too risky to activate another nexus so soon after. We needed to wait.”
Quain sighed heavily. “You assured me my son would be safe with you, Acheron.”
“I have been, Father,” Archer interrupted. “There has been no change in the plan, except for the human.”
“Yes. The human.”
I did glance up then. Something in the tone had the little hairs along my neck prickling. Quain’s cold gaze met mine.
“This complicates matters,” he mused.
“It complicates nothing,” Ashton replied tightly.
Quain broke our staring contest to glance at Ashton. “Are you so blind, Acheron? Do you not see what is before your eyes? The girl loves the human.”
“Minor infatuation.”
Quain’s long fingers tightened around the head of his cane. The knuckles bleached of color. “The passing is nearly upon us, Acheron. You will not be able to conceal this from the Guild. They will come for her.”
“I have not forgotten,” Ashton insisted. “I only just got my daughter back. I have time—”
“You have nothing but the impending doom you have settled upon yourself,” Quain interrupted, practically shouting. “That girl will be the fall of your region and the fall of mine if you do not finalize this matter immediately. Tell the girl. Start the process. Let’s be done with this.”
Rather than answer him, Ashton turned his gaze to me. He searched my face, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and guilt.
“What’s going on?” I spoke without realizing it. “Tell me what?”
“This, dear girl, is your future,” Quain said in his booming voice. “I hope you are prepared.”
Chapter 10
“Quain, enough.” Ashton moved around the steel and glass coffee table to stand before me. “I promised you answers, Fallon. I haven’t forgotten. I only ask that you trust me.”
Nothing good ever came from being asked to trust someone when that trust was never earned. So far, the only person I did trust was Isaiah. Had my mother lived, I probably wouldn’t have even trusted her after all the lies she told me, all the truths she concealed from me. I hadn’t realized before, but I realized at that moment that I wasn’t a very trusting person.
“Why?” I narrowed my eyes. “What is he talking about?”
He hesitated. Not a good start. Then, rather than answer, he turned away and moved to the high back chair, and I was finally made aware of the room.
We were in a small sitting area, tucked away in the corner of an enormous room brimming with books. Row upon row of shelves lined every wall. They stood erect and towering in columns nearly brushing the cavernous ceiling. There were levels so far up that I had to squint against the light glaring down from the glass dome overhead. I counted six floors of books before I had to look away. Stairways of iron, twisted up each flight, joining each floor with iron catwalks. The entire place smelled of dust, old parchment and leather. Hidden amongst it was the scent of lemon floor wood polish and smoke. It was the most impressive library I had ever seen in my life. Had I not wanted answers, had Isaiah not been unconscious and had I not been furious, I would have given my soul to explore the depths of such an incredible place.
“Fallon, this is Quain Blackburn, a dear, trusted friend of mine and Archer’s father,” Ashton began, reminding me to focus. “He has been a great ally to us during these complicated times.”
How great for you, I wanted to say, to have such asshole friends. But my father’s choice in allies was not my concern.
“I asked him and the others to join us today so that you could meet your family.”
“Is that why you told them I was merely a guest?” I asked dryly.
Ashton dropped his gaze. “I would give anything to be able to walk out there and announce your true identit
y, to tell my mother that she has a granddaughter. But it’s just not that simple.”
“Vinnie knows,” I said.
“And Vinnie is my twin. I have no secrets from her. She was your mother’s maid of honor at our wedding, a wedding my family has no knowledge of.”
I squinted at him. “Are you telling me that you got married and no one in your family knows about it?” I glanced at Quain and Archer. “How come they know?”
“I love my family. I would do anything for them, but I don’t trust them. We’re not that kind of family. My own brothers would like nothing more than to slit my throat for the position I wield. You are not the daughter of a simple man, Fallon. I have enemies that could make Garrison seem insignificant.”
“So you’re like the mafia, or something?”
Ashton and Quain exchanged glances. Ashton lowered his gaze to his knees when Quain arched a white eyebrow. “Or something.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “But I trust Quain with my life.”
“He attacked Isaiah for no reason. I don’t trust him at all.”
“Humans are forbidden in our world,” Quain said. “How was I to know Acheron was keeping one as a pet?”
“Isaiah is not a pet,” I shot back. “And he may be human, but he is the bravest and strongest man I know.”
“Perhaps for a mortal he exhibits a certain amount of impressive strength, but he is no match for the men in our world, girl.”
“My name is Fallon, not girl.” I could see what Archer got his sterling personality from.
Quain regarded me with cool deliberation, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to throttle me or find me somehow mildly entertaining. “Acheron, I suggest you handle this quickly before matters become … irreparable.”
I put my hand up. “Wait. Why do you keep calling him Acheron? His name is Ashton.”
“My name,” Ashton said before Quain could. “Is Acheron, Rem Legacy. Sire of the region of Luxuria.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand what any of that means. Who’s Ashton?”
“I am. It’s my…”
“Human name,” Quain supplied when Ashton faltered. “There are those amongst us who feel the need to conceal their birthright by giving themselves false names in hopes of becoming interchangeable with humans when it comes to mortal business dealings. Disgusting habit.” I didn’t miss the side glance he shot his son. “Our name is power. It’s a dishonor to be ashamed of being better than those filthy savages that only yesterday crawled out of the muck like pigs.”
Touching Fire (Touch Saga) Page 11