Sever the Crown: Vampire Reverse Harem Complete Series

by Mysti Parker

  I had to laugh at that. He laughed, too, and I felt a lot lighter, if only for a little while.

  “There’s that smile I love. Sleep now, my queen,” he said as I settled down on his chest. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

  ****

  Sometime later, someone pounded on my door. I rolled off Hawk and grabbed a robe while he quickly dressed. While I wrapped the robe around me, Hawk opened the door to find Vincent there. He looked panicked.

  “What’s wrong?” Hawk asked.

  “Zac’s gone.”

  I joined them at the door. “What do you mean, gone?”

  “He got out of his cuffs and escaped through the ventilation ducts. I guess we underestimated his escape talents. But he left a note.” Vincent handed me a piece of paper.

  With trembling hands, I held it and read what he had written.

  I’m so sorry, Wren. The bomb I originally planted – I had a change of heart and had it moved to the museum, which was closed for renovations. I knew the bomb squad would defuse it. And they did. But somehow, the disarming was used as a detonator for the bombs Ravana had implanted in the vampires.

  It doesn’t excuse my role in it or the fact that I lied to you. And you’re right. You should have let me die. When I watch my final sunrise, I’ll be thinking about you.

  Even though I betrayed you, please believe this – I love you.

  Zac

  I dropped the note. It fluttered to the floor. “His last sunrise…” Pacing the room, I tried not to panic. He could be anywhere. But if he was going to end his undead life, he’d do it somewhere meaningful.

  Then it hit me. “I know where he’s going, but I don’t know the location. I bet Marlowe can find it.”

  “What are you doing?” Hawk asked.

  “He’s going to let himself burn in the sun. I can’t let him do that.”

  Anger flashed in Hawk’s eyes before he let out a sigh and cupped my cheek in his hand. “I know.”

  I threw off the robe and quickly put on my clothes, then found the scepter where I had stored it in a chest.

  “Where do you think he’s going?” Vincent asked.

  “To be with his wife.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Zac

  The Oak Hill Cemetery in Washington, D.C. was locked when I arrived by stolen helicopter fifteen minutes before sunrise. The padlock was one of those expensive, unbreakable ones with an anti-drill plate I doubted even a crowbar could scratch, but I hadn't yet tested the limits of my new vampire strength. I gripped it in my fist and yanked. Metal parts flew everywhere, and the gate swung open with a rickety sigh, inviting me in to perfectly landscaped death.

  I accepted the invite, completely at peace with my decision. This was the way it had to be. I'd made a mistake in choosing to become a vampire, and even Wren agreed.

  I should have let you die, she’d said.

  She was right. I'd been so close to death's door when I'd made the choice that maybe I was delusional. Or just plain scared of never seeing Wren again. But I couldn't keep hurting her. I had no more secrets about my past. She knew everything now, which meant I'd absolved myself of my sins. I wasn’t stupid enough to ask for her forgiveness though.

  A low fog crept over my boots as I wound my way through the graves toward Sasha's, the smell of cherry blossoms freshening the air, even though it was now fall. There were only a few cherry trees that bloomed in fall here in D.C. And these were some of them. Sasha had been crazy about rare plants, so this had been the best place to lay her to rest.

  I knew this path by heart.

  I love you, you know, she’d said for the first time on the day I’d graduated from FBI training.

  I’d looked at her in shock, not quite sure I’d heard her right. I still couldn’t believe someone as smart and beautiful as she was would give me the time of day. Just a nobody kid who came from a lower-middle class family in Ohio.

  Thanks, I’d said dumbly before the realization sank in. When her lips puckered in an adorable pout, I’d finally blurted, I love you, too, Sasha Billingsley. Then we’d kissed, and that was it. I knew she was the one.

  I’d been in love exactly twice in my life. The loss of both was ripping me apart, but the pain kept me moving east across the graveyard and toward the fiery streaks in the sky that preceded the sun.

  Around a slight curve in the path, Sasha's grave stood near a weeping willow. The brightening sky reflected off the marble headstone, a spotlight to come home. I smiled down at it as I neared while my dead heart broke all over again. It had been too long since I'd been here. I set a single purple orchid, her favorite, down on top of her headstone, and then touched my fingers to my lips and pressed them to her engraved name: Sasha Robin Billingsley.

  "Anyone ever tell you that you married an idiot?" I asked her as I sat down next to her grave. "Maybe don't answer that. I know your parents were less than thrilled with me."

  Sasha was from "old southern money," her family name carried down with even more class and wealth than the previous generation. She was expected to marry a politician or a white-collar lawyer, not some fresh-faced FBI trainee buried in student loan debts. But she rejected that expectation, just like she did most everyone’s.

  "He's Superman," she'd once told her mother when she thought I couldn't hear. "He'll save the world."

  I pulled my knees to my chest and felt the dampness of the cool grass seeping through my pants. "My time as a superhero is done, I'm afraid. I tried to take the coward’s way out, and now here we are." I glanced up at the first shimmer of gold in the sky, spreading like veins through the clouds. "I wonder if you'd even recognize me now. If you'll recognize me soon. I don't even recognize myself. I guess I should’ve seen this coming, because if I had killed Wren, I wouldn't be me, either, would I? The only thing I've ever been good at is being your husband and being in the FBI, and I wish we could both go back to that and…living. Neither of us can, though, can we?"

  The side of my face heated, and I could feel the rising sun stretch its rays toward me.

  "We'll be together soon. I'll make you spaghetti again or whatever you want. I bet there's wine tastings where you are, because if not, what's the point? I can hear you asking that anyway." I chuckled and wiped a stray tear from my cheek. "You would've liked Wren if you'd known her. She’s different. I know it's strange to say that to you, but… You always said people need to move on and do what makes them happy—"

  Was I though? Right now? Simply not existing was a dead end to happiness, unless I saw Sasha again, but that wasn’t guaranteed. Was burning to ashes in the sun going to make anything better?

  "Well, shit," I said, tipping my head to the marbled sky. The heat on the side of my face turned scorching. "Now I know why you said that, but Sasha, sometimes life isn't about happiness. It's about doing what's right for the good of the future. I'm in Wren's way. I hurt her. We both agree that me being a vampire is a mistake, and… Damn it, why do I feel like I'm arguing with my dead wife about how stupid I am?"

  Because you are, a voice, possibly my subconscious, said to me. But then a cool breeze picked up as a white mist floated toward me. It took on the transparent form of a woman with long blonde hair and a white dress.

  “Sasha?” I blinked my eyes to clear my vision, but the form kept floating toward me. I couldn’t clearly see her face, but I could see her slowly shaking her head. "You don’t think I should be doing this, do you?"

  “Don’t…” It was the faintest of whispers, but I could have sworn it was Sasha’s voice. I’m not sure why seeing anyone’s ghost would surprise me after all the crazy things I’d seen with Wren. Crazy, yet amazing things. Just like her.

  The coming sun’s rays speared up at an angle through the clouds, like Sasha’s mouth when she gave me that smile that meant she was right, and I was wrong. The same smile I saw now on her phantom. Wren had a smile like that, one edged with attitude but softened by her carefree laugh.

  "You think I'm an idiot,
don't you?"

  The misty form nodded her head. “Go back…”

  And her smile grew wider, an agreement I couldn’t ignore. I stood, dusting off the dirt and grass from my pants, but when I looked to the horizon again, the time for changing my mind had come and gone. The top of the sun burst into the sky and burned everything gold. Blistering heat climbed over my skin and through my clothes. Smoke wafted in front of my face. I waved it away to see the sky's colors light up Sasha's headstone.

  Too late. It was too late to change my mind, but if I panicked and ran, I wouldn't die where I was meant to. I wanted to be here with her, not blowing ashes all over someone else's grave.

  “I’m sorry, Sasha.” I dropped to my knees by her stone and held on to it while I waited for the end.

  A rusty creak came from behind me, and when I glanced back, my boiling eyes were playing tricks. The white form rushed toward me. But now it was more solid, like someone wearing a white sheet as a ghost costume on Halloween.

  "So this is what death feels like,” I rasped, and smoke wafted from my mouth. “Like losing my mind."

  "Zac!"

  I knew that voice, had memorized every note of it, but it wasn't real. Neither was Sasha’s spirit or the ghost blurring toward me. It didn't matter anyway because my skin was on fire. I closed my eyes and let the sun consume me. I'd made my choice. Instead of turning my back on my decisions like I had with becoming a vampire, I had to embrace it. Pain ignited through my body, but I had to ignore it, shove it to the deepest parts of my brain because it would all be over soon.

  "Zac!" The voice came closer, ringing with panic.

  Instinct snapped my eyes open. I was the one on fire, but she needed help. Wren. How could she be here? She raced for me, not dressed in a white sheet but in a white cloak, the deep hood keeping her head covered. I’d given her that sun-blocking cloak when we’d gone to meet Angelo at the New Orleans cemetery bar.

  I wanted to ask her why she was here, but it was too late. My skin was already charred, sloughing off my bones and turning to ash, floating away in a cloud of dust. I was dying. Who was I kidding? I was already dead.

  "Don’t you dare fucking die on me!" She unbuttoned her white cloak and threw herself at me, the fabric billowing around her.

  It wasn't until she was nearly on top of me that I saw her tear-stained cheeks as her hood slid back, the torture on her face, right as she barreled into me. She hit me so hard that we both slid across the ground while she fought frantically with her cloak to keep us covered. The top of my head smashed into the trunk of the willow tree, and I heaved a groan as we came to a stop in the half shade. The fire licking over my flesh went out with puffs of smoke and leftover ash, swirling up over Wren's face as she stared down at me within the tent of her cloak.

  She sat up, straddling me while keeping us under the cloth, and covered her quivering mouth with her hand as she dissolved into tears. She'd saved me, even though she'd wished me dead.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she sobbed.

  Part of me wanted to comfort and reassure her, but the other part was too damn confused to know what to do anymore. So I focused on myself, on the parts of me that were already healing, while I struggled for something to say.

  The truth seemed like a good place to start. "I'm in your way, Wren."

  "You don't get to decide that. How could you do this?" She held out her hands to frame my face, not touching what must’ve looked so hideous.

  "I am in your way. You shouldn’t be here. You should be searching for your fifth mate, not here saving me. You said it yourself that you should've let me die, and I agree. So let me go."

  "I can't!" She bowed her head, her shoulders heaving.

  "I hurt you."

  "But you're finished hurting me.” She angrily swiped at her cheeks. “Right? Tell me everything right now. Are there other assassins you hired? Other attempts to kill me? I need to know."

  "No. There’s nothing else."

  "Promise me."

  "I swear it."

  She searched my eyes for so long I wasn't sure she'd heard me, but then she pulled her queen's scepter from the cloak's inside pocket. "Then prove it."

  "What?"

  "Be my fifth mate."

  "Wren…" My mind whirred as a flood of different emotions tied up my tongue.

  "I know you. I know the real you despite your past, and more importantly, I believe you. You will never hurt me again because it hurts you twice as much. I've seen it. I see it right now. You would never be like Devin was to my mom, someone who would betray me. I trust you. I love you." Her voice cracked, and more tears welled. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

  I gazed down at the scepter gripped tightly in her fist. Her fifth mate… How could she trust me with such an important role? If I said yes, she'd finally have the power to take back the throne. But wasn't she worried that I'd ruin it all for her like I'd ruined everything else?

  "You don't have to decide now,” she said softly. “This is a choice I'm offering you. But I can't imagine anyone else being my fifth mate. I don’t want anyone else."

  I'd already decided I was an idiot before the sun came up, and Sasha had helped me see that. Had she known Wren was coming?

  I couldn’t hurt Wren again. Not even a little. If she gave me the chance to make it up to her and I refused, I’d be the ultimate idiot.

  "You're..." I stopped myself from saying 'sure.' Wren wasn't one to waffle back and forth. If she said she wanted me as her mate, she meant it. It was time I learned that lesson from the queen and accepted myself and my future as a vampire.

  My future with the bravest, most gorgeous vampire queen I’d ever known. I held my halfway healed wrist up toward the scepter as I bared my heart and devoted the rest of my undead life to her with my next few words: "I love you, too, Wren Delacroix."

  Chapter Fifteen

  Wren

  While Talia, Vincent, and a couple other Knights waited near the gate, Ashe, Charles, Marlowe, and Hawk slowly approached. Talia had hurtled us through a portal with barely enough time for us to make sure we were protected from the sun. Marlowe had wrangled up enough sunproof robes for all of us. They looked like a herd of cartoony ghosts drifting along the early morning cemetery path.

  “You okay, Zac-man?” Charles called out. They’d deliberately given us a few minutes alone, but they may have thought Zac had become a pile of ashes from the way I still lay on top of him bawling.

  The tears had evolved from anguish to joy, and I had no experience with happy tears. It felt really strange to be crying my eyes out while laughing as I wrapped myself around Zac. At least I wasn’t the only one. He laughed and cried like an idiot, too, kissing me in between once his skin had healed.

  The guys finally reached us.

  Ashe chuckled. “I think it’s safe to say he’s all right.”

  “I’m good,” Zac said from under my robe cocoon. “Better than good, actually.”

  “Just one problem,” I said, still clutching the scepter. “I don’t know how to use this thing.”

  “Not a problem,” Marlowe said. He crouched beside us and handed Zac a robe. “I know how to use it. We need to get out of the sun first, and I know just the place.”

  “The bunker?”

  “Not exactly. Put that on and follow me.”

  Knowing Marlowe, he could be taking us anywhere. I got up off Zac and made sure to keep him covered while he put his robe on.

  He smiled sheepishly at me as he donned the hood. “I never thought I’d need one of these.”

  “Get used to it,” Hawk grumbled. He still wasn’t sure about Zac, not that I could blame him. Hopefully, Zac would earn his trust. Otherwise, things might be more complicated than they already were.

  We followed Marlowe out of the cool shade of the willow tree. The sun’s morning rays didn’t reach through the cloth, but I could still feel the heat. Zac stopped by his wife’s gravestone, his back to the sun. I joined him there.

  �
��Sasha. Pretty name,” I said, squeezing his hand through the robe’s sleeve.

  “Yeah. And the woman was too.”

  “She’s proud of you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “She told me.”

  I looked at the willow tree, careful to keep the hood between me and the sun. Zac followed my line of sight. Sasha’s ghost smiled and disappeared into the tree. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and squeezed my hand tighter.

  “Thank you, Wren, for believing in me,” he whispered.

  “That’s easy. Now you need to believe in yourself.”

  Charles cleared his throat and sidled up behind us. “If it gets any sappier over here, you’ll get stuck to the ground.”

  “Like the floor in your bedroom?” Zac retorted.

  “Heh, good one. Better get rolling. It’s Tuesday, so you two can’t waste time.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” Zac asked then shook his head almost immediately. “Oh, right, tomorrow’s Wednesday.”

  “Hump day! Yeah!” Charles bellowed.

  I elbowed him.

  “Oomph,” he groaned and slapped my ass as he walked away.

  Now this right here – this felt normal. Zac was as much a part of our family as the rest of us. Without him, we all felt unsettled. Even though I hadn’t given him a tattoo yet, now that he was back in our midst, you could almost feel a collective sigh of relief. The tattoo seemed little more than a formality, but whatever mystical quality it possessed would lock in the power we needed to have a chance at taking the throne.

  The six of us—no, ten of us including Talia, Vincent, and the two Knights—wound down a partially shaded path and ended up on a concrete patio in front of a large mausoleum with a padlocked door.

  “I can pick that in two seconds,” Charles said, rummaging under his robe.

  “No need,” Marlowe said. “Stand on the grass, though.” He pushed a few stone rosettes in a specific sequence. The ground rumbled before a huge slab of the concrete patio dropped down, then slid underneath the rest of the patio. A set of stone stairs descended into the darkness below. Moss grew on their edges and up the stairwell walls. The center of each step had been worn smooth from centuries of foot traffic.