by Rye Brewer
“Do not dispose of her. Move her to a room, alone, so my brother can decide what to do.”
I watched, detached, as she scanned the room with an imperious gaze. She loved it, every minute of it. I was sure she’d looked forward to this with every fiber of her being for longer than I’d been alive. And we had made it possible for her. Not that I had any love for the Senate after my short history with them—they were bullies, and wicked and cruel.
However, I wished I believed the alternative was better, even if the alternative had freed me.
“Anissa.” Gregor seemed as troubled as I felt. “I think it would be best for us to go. Felicity and myself, I mean. Back to Avellane.”
“Yes, you should go. Things aren’t going to get any better here.”
“You should come with us,” he urged.
“As much as I would love to be away from this place and never see it again or think about it, I have things to settle.” I glanced in the direction of Scott, and that locked door.
What was going on behind it? I couldn’t imagine—and I couldn’t leave without knowing.
“I had expected as much.” He sounded resigned but unsurprised. “Please, meet us there as soon as you’re able. There are still so many things I want to discuss with you.”
Yes. My mother, for one. This wasn’t the place for that.
“I will. I promise.” I threw my arms around him, an impulsive gesture which surprised me. I had come too close to losing everything that mattered to care.
He patted my hair and murmured a few wordless comforts.
Felicity hugged me, too, and the two of them left without a backward glance. I knew I’d breathe much easier when they were far from everything that had happened.
One thing I had to do before going to Avellane or anywhere else was go to Jonah. I hated that this was going on without him knowing. Be that as it may, I wouldn’t have him here for anything in the world. I wouldn’t want him to wait the way Scott was—distraught, falling apart, desperate for some word of whether his father had lived or died. While I doubted Jonah would ever let himself come apart at the seams the way Scott was, he’d still hurt greatly.
The sound of Sara murmuring to Stark carried across the big room and grabbed my attention. They stood as far from Scott as physically possible, but there was no way to miss how Stark’s dark gaze kept drifting over to the doorway. As though he was waiting for another attack. I knew then I could trust him to take care of my sister. Even when Scott was the least likely to attack, Stark was on the watch.
When did it happen between them?
I walked to where they huddled and noticed the smeared blood still on the floor not far away. Where Stark and Fane had killed Rorru. I looked away.
When did my sister and Stark fall in love, if that was what it was?
“Are you all right?” I asked when I reached them.
She nodded. “And you?”
“As well as I can be.” I turned to Stark. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For agreeing to fight so we could be free. If it weren’t for you…”
He shook his head. “It wasn’t all me, not even close. Elewyn had much more to do with it than I did.” The ghost of a frown passed over his face, darkening his eyes and creasing his brow.
It brought to mind the glance I had seen him exchange with Elewyn—no, not a glance. A stare. The way they had stared each other down. The way she had challenged him. He tried to make it sound as though she’d done it out of kindness. Kindness had nothing to do with it, and we both knew it.
“Yes, well, either way. I’d be in a cell If it weren’t for you.”
Sara leaned against him, then let her head drop to his shoulder.
I told myself this was a good thing. He would protect her and make her happy—she looked happy, after all. So what if he was a warlock? And what of making her forget all about being a vampire? If I expressed a problem with that, it made me no better than Scott.
What I had a problem with was Elewyn’s presence in his life. It was clear there was a history—people didn’t glare at each other the way they had when they’d only just met. I didn’t trust Elewyn one bit, and she wouldn’t like anybody stepping into what she felt was her territory.
I nodded at Stark. “Can I have a minute alone with Sara, please?”
He nodded back. “I happen to have a few things I would like to take care of.”
Sara watched him as he walked away, which reinforced the fact she was head-over-heels for him.
I waited until he was out of earshot before turning to Sara and leaning in close.
“There’s something we have to discuss.”
“If you’re going to give me a lot of trouble over Stark…”
“No.” Not yet, anyway. “No, it’s nothing about him. It’s about something Gregor told me earlier.” I took her hands as tears welled in my eyes. I would rather her hear it from me than from Stark or anybody else.
“What is it?”
I told her everything I knew, which admittedly wasn’t much. But it was enough. Blood, destruction, and no evidence of Tabitha being anywhere. By the time I finished, we were both in tears.
“How is this possible?” she wept, shaking in my arms. “We were with her not that long ago.”
“I know. I saw her in Hallowthorn Landing before coming here. She was happy and looking forward to being with Gregor again. And to planning my wedding.”
“To what?” She pulled back. “You’re engaged?”
I smiled through my tears. “Yes. It only happened recently, but I had the chance to tell her about it. At least I had that.”
“At least she was happy.”
We both burst into a fresh round of tears and did what we could to comfort each other. We had already lost her once. We could get through it again, I supposed. When our tears had mostly dried, and the worst of it seemed to have passed, I took the chance of broaching another topic.
“Why are you staying here? With Stark, I mean? And training? What’s happening with you?”
She rolled her eyes. “I wish you wouldn’t ask so many questions.”
“But I already did, and I think I deserve the truth. I’m worried about you. This seems like a complete turnaround from the way you felt about your powers when they first manifested.”
“I’m not afraid of them anymore. I have Stark to thank for that.” Oh, her eyes shone. My heart ached a little for her.
“I’m thankful to him, then, if you’re not afraid. That’s wonderful. But I still worry about you. Are you certain this is the best course of action? Don’t you want to be a vampire anymore?”
22
Elewyn
It was finally happening. What I had put in motion was all coming to pass. It was incredibly gratifying, the sense that I had won.
Those smug, rigid, nasty Senate members were nothing but a bad memory. They had paid for keeping my brother locked away for so long.
The series of rooms which the Senate had used to store scrolls, information on past and present prisoners, records of all the cottages on the island, and so much more were dark and dusty, reeking of mildew and the passage of time. I’d only passed by their doors prior to the night I took power, and those doors had always been closed. The mystery of what must lie behind them was much more intriguing than what I found.
My first act was opening the windows to air the place out. A cold gust of damp air blew in, and I instantly understood why the windows had been closed. This brought to mind my second point of business: the unrelenting wind, rain, and overall sense of gloom which had permeated every aspect of the island since before Elazar’s sentencing.
I had lived in the dark more than long enough. With a sweep of my arms, the clouds parted and revealed a blue sky. The sun shone down for the first time—and revealed the terrible condition of the cottages at the base of the mountain on which the castle sat.
I had a lot of work to do.
But it was nothing compared to th
e thrill of finally having what I wanted more than anything in the world. Power. I curled my hands into fists as I surveyed my domain. The entire island.
I would return it to its former beauty and the castle to its former glory. My name would be renowned. Respected. Even feared. But I wouldn’t rule the way the Senate had. They were pitiful and always had been. Not to mention unfair.
As they had been to Elazar. Who was free. I had done that. I had freed him.
There was one small fly in the ointment. One tiny setback. The only thing which could possibly taint my success. The expression on Stark’s face. He’d seen me, hadn’t he? When I’d hit Samara with that spell. He’d seen it, somehow. He knew what I had done. I’d thought he was busy with Rorru at the time, but Fane had seen. Stark could’ve, too.
No. It was impossible. He would’ve said something to me if he’d seen it. Wouldn’t he? Pain stung my palms, and I peered down and realized my fists were clenched to the point where my nails dug in and drew blood.
A knock on the door startled me.
“I’m sorry. You seemed lost in thought. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Stark raised his eyebrows, glancing around without stepping into the room.
I nodded for him to enter.
“You couldn’t disturb me.” At least, not in the manner he meant.
“So. You did it.” He strolled through, looking without touching. Examining the stacks of books and papers and scrolls which appeared as though they might crumble if unrolled.
“I did. We did.”
He shrugged, still not meeting my gaze. “But you were the one who truly wanted this. You brought the idea to us. You orchestrated it.”
“Is there anything so wrong with that?”
“Nothing inherently wrong, no. Nothing great could be accomplished without planning and the determination to see those plans through.”
“You sound as though you’re reading from a book.”
He snorted. “Is there anything so wrong with that?”
There was something very wrong. He was behaving strangely, even for him.
“What is it you want, Stark? I’m very busy now.”
“I’m sure you are.” He stared out the window, a faint smile on his lips.
The sunlight shone on him, highlighting his chiseled profile to perfection. I had never seen him in sunlight before.
“You’ve already made huge strides. I approve. Though the cottages look fairly shoddy now.”
“I’d noticed. We think alike.”
“Do we?” He finally turned my way, and I wished he hadn’t when his gaze left me cold.
“As I already requested, please get to the heart of what you’re trying to say.” My heart clenched in anticipation. I could hardly stand it.
On the outside, I made pains to project the same image I’d always strived to project: collected, self-possessed, calm, and focused. Inside, he wrecked me.
Stark’s eyes flickered over my face, back and forth, as though he were examining my thoughts. He had to know. He had to. How could he know what I’d done and why I’d done it but not know how much I loved him? It didn’t seem possible.
“I wanted to say I hope you’re not too busy to train Sara, as we had already discussed.”
Sara. Why her? Granted, it was a relief that he didn’t intend to question me about Samara, but I’d rather discuss almost anything rather than Sara. Did he mean to torture me? Because if he’d held my feet over an open flame, he couldn’t have hurt me any worse.
“Why do you have to bring her up right now?” I asked with a bored sigh.
“Because she’s the reason I’m on the island. Remember? We came to ensure she could train.” A smile touched his lips, but only slightly. “Wouldn’t you rather have a witch like her on your side?”
“As opposed to?”
“As opposed to working against you. What do you think I mean?”
“Why would she do anything like that?”
“I didn’t say she would,” he replied in a tone which told me I was being placated. “Honestly. I don’t even think such a day would ever come. But didn’t we have a discussion a long time ago in which you warned me to keep my potential enemies close to me? Just in case?”
I loathed the spark of hope which lit up the inside of my mind. “Does that mean you consider her a potential enemy? Is that why you’ve taken an interest in someone so clearly common?”
His smile became real. And sad. “Would it be easier for you if that were the case?”
Rage bubbled in my chest, hot and corrosive. Rage and jealousy. “No. And I do not appreciate your games.”
“I’m the one playing games?” He took a step closer, then another. I willed myself to stand firm, to not back down because backing down would mean weakness, and I was not weak. I’d be willing to admit to many character flaws—self-awareness had never been a problem for me—but I was not weak.
“What?” I whispered, glaring.
“I mean, it takes a game player to know a game player. Do I need to be clearer?” He lowered his head until all I could see were his eyes under heavy, dark brows. “I know you. I know what you’re capable of when there’s something you want. And while I do not wish for you to instill this instinct in Sara—it’s against her nature—I do wish for her to learn to control and expand her powers. As does she which, frankly, is more important.”
“You’re quite the gentleman,” I murmured with a smile.
“I find that she brings out my better qualities.”
Another blow to my pride. She did, but I didn’t. I never had.
And he wanted me to train her. He wanted me to look at her every day, spend time with her, help her, mold her into the best she could be. If I had believed in Heaven and Hell and being punished for my sins, I would’ve pegged this as no less than what I deserved for all I’d done and wished to do.
“I know better than to think you’ll ever let this go until I agree.”
“You are correct.”
I was smart enough to know when there was no sense in fighting—at least, not overtly, not with my claws out and scratching. A circuitous route was always better at such a time. I saw one opening up before me. I wasn’t sure yet where it led, but it was there. I only needed to see a few steps ahead, at any rate.
“All right. I will train her. Under one condition.”
“I would be concerned if there wasn’t a condition. Name it.”
“You have to leave. And stay gone for the duration of her training.”
His smile faded until it was only a memory. “Why?”
Because I can’t stand the thought of seeing the two of you together. Because I have loved you from the day we met, and that love hasn’t diminished in the slightest. It’s only grown and grown, and there’s no way I can stop it. Would that I could. I want nothing more than for this pain to end. The pain of never being allowed to love you the way I’ve so desperately needed to for so long. If you’re here and she’s here, and you’re happy together, I won’t have a moment’s peace. I may even have to hurt her for it. Or you.
“Because you would only serve as a distraction.”
He snorted and shook his head.
I argued the point, “Haven’t you ever read the old stories? The ones the humans wrote? I used to read them for a laugh—although some of them are closer to the truth than others. And whenever a truly special creature such as your Sara trains to develop their skills, they must live sparsely. Monastically. With no distractions, nothing to steal focus from what matters most. Away from everyone they love.”
He pursed his generous mouth, clearly considering the truth of my reasoning. “How long do you believe this will take?”
“To be honest, I’m uncertain. I saw some of what she could do during the battle, and I must admit, I’m impressed. You did admirably well in her early training.”
“Thank you.”
“Nevertheless, until I have the chance to witness the extent of her abilities, I won’t know how long her train
ing will take.” Hundreds of years if I have my way. “I’ll be happy to reach out to you in order to update you on her progress.”
“How generous.”
“I do what I can.” I smiled.
He raised his chin, staring down at me with the same expression he’d used in the entry hall while Elazar wept over that insipid Samara. The look chilled my blood. “Are you certain there isn’t anything you’d like to get off your chest?”
“I really don’t know what you mean.”
“I think you do. Just the same, I wouldn’t want whatever it is to get in the way of the training you’ll be providing Sara. Strain can do terrible things to the mind.”
“Strain? Why would I be strained? I have things well in hand here.”
“I don’t mean in the prison, or even the entire island. There’s not a doubt in my mind you’ll make a formidable leader. I mean here.” He tapped the side of his head then moved his hand lower until his fingers made contact with his broad chest. “And here.”
That area had been strained for as long as I’d known him, but it had never seemed to matter before. “Why would that be a problem?”
“It’s only that I have some experience in the area of living with my decisions. Things I thought I could live with grew heavier with time. I came to understand what regret was.”
“That’s fascinating, Stark, but I have nothing to regret.”
“So you believe now.” He shrugged. “And I believe you believe it. I only hope for your sake you don’t prove me right. I hope a lot of things I think I know aren’t right. I’m not sure what I would do if they were.”
I quaked inside and wished I could lean against something for support as my knees turned to water. He knew. He knew, and he hated me for it. No—he was disappointed in me. I wasn’t sure which was worse. All that was left for me to do was double my resolve.
I blew out a breath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, or what you think you know. I thought we were talking about Sara, but you seem to have changed the subject.”
“I’m still talking about Sara and her training. And the fact she had better be trained well, thoroughly, and safely. Otherwise, I may have to let a few things off my chest. I don’t think you would want that to happen.”