Darkest Whispers (Eternal Shadows Book 2)

by Kate Martin

  “It was a little cute, wasn’t it?”

  She didn’t dignify that with a response. I hadn’t expected one. “The fact of the matter is, Kassandra, you are eighteen now, almost a woman, and you need to start thinking about your future.”

  I had a lot of that to go around. But hadn’t she argued only a few minutes ago that eighteen was still a child? “Oh, believe me. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the future lately.”

  “Good for you. So have I.”

  Oh no.

  “I shall pay for the dress.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  Brody kicked the fridge shut, opened up the mayonnaise and started humming loudly. I swatted at him, he just laughed and started spreading.

  “No catch.”

  “No?”

  “Well, ‘catch’ has a negative connotation.”

  I got up and walked over to the other side of the kitchen, hopping up to sit on the large preparation counter beside the oven. “You’re not planning on announcing my succession as your heir or anything, are you?”

  “Don’t be silly. We need to get you the proper education first. Which we will talk about when I see you.”

  Sounded like a blast. “So what are we talking about then?”

  “Do you remember a young man by the name of Francis Wethersfield?”

  “No.” Please just end there. Please.

  “Of course you do. His family has a beach house just down the street from mine. You and your parents spent a summer with me once, oh, how many years ago was that now? Five? Six?”

  Oh . . . that kid. “He pulled my hair, stuck mud down my bathing suit, and purposely plugged my snorkel at the coral reef.” We had been thirteen. I remembered it all perfectly—because my mother had died shortly after.

  “Yes, but as I recall you gave him a black eye in return.”

  “He deserved it.”

  “Perhaps. In any case, he has grown into a fine young man. Very handsome. And he just completed his first year at Harvard.”

  “Swell.” I didn’t dare ask what all this had to do with me. I knew where she was headed.

  “I’ve already spoken with his parents about it.”

  “Grandma!”

  “And they think it’s a wonderful idea,” she continued as though I hadn’t just had an outburst. “Francis is very excited to see you again. Apparently all his activities that summer stemmed from quite the crush.”

  “Too bad that black eye stemmed from extreme dislike.”

  “Now, don’t be like that, Kassandra. Five years is a long time. People change. You yourself suffered from bouts of immaturity as a child.”

  “That’s not the point. I don’t need an arranged marriage.”

  Brody paused in his sandwich making, his head popping up like a meerkat.

  “Don’t be dramatic. We haven’t gone that far. That’s up to you.”

  “I already have a boyfriend, Grandma.” Not that it would probably make a bit of difference.

  “You do? Who?”

  I really did not want to get into all this. “His name is Rhys.”

  “Is he from a good family?”

  “Very good.” As long as she only knew about the money, and not the undead part, she would be fine with it.

  “Well, then. I should like to meet him someday.”

  “I could bring him to the party.”

  A long pause, then my grandmother’s careful answer. “All right.”

  She sounded so enthused. “Thanks, Grandma.”

  “I will confirm everything with my people.”

  Did I have a choice? I didn’t remember being asked. “Yeah, I guess I’ll see you then.”

  “Wonderful.” It was the happiest she had sounded yet. “As I said, I will make all the arrangements. It will be on the fifteenth of September. Save the date, darling. Now, I have a meeting in five minutes that I cannot be late for, but you promise me you are well?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, I’m fine.” Undead and scarred, but fine.

  “I'll have the details sent to you by email, and a car for you the day of. I love you, darling. Please stay safe. If you need more security just call me.”

  “My own is more than sufficient, I promise.”

  “Even so. One phone call, and I will get you whatever else you might need.”

  This was her love. “Thanks.”

  “Goodbye, peach.”

  She hadn’t called me that in years. A sob rose up my throat, threatening to choke me unexpectedly. “Bye, Grandma.”

  Proud of myself for not crying through those two words, I pressed the end button on the phone. Who’d have thought I would get so emotional over an old endearment? I guess I still missed the past more than I thought.

  Brody popped up right in front of me the moment I set the phone down. “Cinderella’s going to the ball, huh?”

  “What?” I sifted through my memory, trying to remember if I had said the words “gala” or “party” out loud. I hadn’t.

  “Your grandmother talks loud. Don’t have to be a vampire to hear her end of the conversation.”

  Great. I hopped off the counter and tried to get around him. He didn’t let me. Short of using my superior strength, I wouldn’t get by. “It’s just the company gala. It’s no big deal.”

  “Didn’t sound like no big deal. What company is it?”

  I shoved him lightly and ducked away. “Carter Enterprises Incorporated.” I made sure to mutter it, hoping he wouldn’t really hear.

  He did. “CEI? Holy shit!”

  This was why I didn’t tell people who my grandmother was. If I wasn’t being stared at for being my father’s daughter, I was being gawked at for being Emmaline Carter’s granddaughter. I put the kitchen island between us. “It’s stupid. I don’t even want to go.”

  “Don’t want to go? Kass, that’s got to be one of the biggest events of the year!”

  “Like you even know what CEI is.”

  “I most certainly do.” He moved after me. Standing once again by his enormous sandwich. “I see all Warren’s business magazines and stuff. The kid practically breathes the things.” He paused, and his eyes widened. I could have sworn I saw a light bulb go on. “Oh my god. Emmaline Carter is your grandmother? Ha! Warren is going to completely lose his mind.”

  Warren? “What do you mean?”

  “Like I said, the kid is always reading those business magazines and articles and stuff. I’ve heard him murmuring to himself about the different CEOs. Your grandmother is practically his hero.”

  Oh. I’d had no idea. “Don’t say anything, okay? I don’t want Warren to get all weird about it. I’ll tell him eventually.”

  “Tell me what?” Warren walked in, his glasses pushed back onto his head, making a lock of hair stick out at a funny angle.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your glasses,” I said, hoping he would forget what he had overheard.

  “Technically, I’m not without.” He took the glasses off his head and wiped the lenses with his shirt.

  “Well, it’s a good look for you. You should consider contacts.”

  He just shrugged and put his glasses back on. “So what were you going to tell me?” He reached for the untouched half of Brody’s sandwich.

  Dammit. “Uh, nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  Surprisingly, Brody didn’t stop Warren from stealing his kitchen-creation. “Kass is the granddaughter of Emmaline Carter Thomas.”

  Warren dropped the sandwich.

  Brody picked it back up and happily started eating, leaning one arm on the counter and smiling like his favorite show was about to start.

  I looked anywhere but at Warren.

  “Is—is that true?”

  No point in denying it now. “Yes.”

  “That,” he stuttered, “that makes you the heir to Carter Enterprises Incorporated.”

  I looked at him then. “I am not the heir. I want nothing to do with it. Besides, it’s a comp
any not a country.”

  “She’s going to the big company gala,” Brody said around a mouthful.

  “Brody, shut up.”

  Warren didn’t seem to be breathing. Great. “Warren, it’s not a big deal. My father joined the military and more or less disowned all that. I have no head for business; I’ll never be CEO, no matter what my grandmother cooks up.”

  “Your grandmother is the greatest business person in the world.”

  “I highly doubt that.” Yes, she was rich, powerful and smart, but there were others who could top her.

  Warren shook his head and grabbed my hand. “No, no, you don’t get it. She’s brilliant. I’ve read everything she’s ever written. I follow every move CEI makes."

  "I don’t really pay attention to the whole thing.”

  Warren just stared at me. I wondered briefly if he was having a heart-attack, or stroke, or something.

  “I could introduce you, if you want.” I thought the offer might bring him back, might wipe that odd look off his face, but it didn’t. I added fainting to the list of possible things he might do.

  Brody cackled, threw down what was left of his dinner and grabbed me. Next thing I knew, we were waltzing around the kitchen. “I was wrong,” he said, twirling me this way and that. “Kass isn’t Cinderella, Warren is!”

  “Brody.” I said it as a warning, both for him to stop picking on Warren, and to stop dancing. Again, short of hurting him, I wasn’t sure I could break free. Millie would not appreciate the first option.

  But Brody kept right on going. “Make sure to get all your chores done and you can attend the ball, Warren. Of course, you’ll need a dress.”

  I thumped my fist into his shoulder. He winced and let go of me, but his laughter soon followed. I couldn’t have hurt him too badly. If Millie asked, I’d just tell her he had it coming.

  I had barely gotten myself back over to catatonic Warren when I heard an all too familiar throat clearing.

  Olivia stood at the entrance to the kitchen, dressed in jeans and an expensive looking blouse—I only noticed because everyone else had stuck with comfortable lounge wear. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and met my gaze. “Rhys wanted me to tell you that he's going out for a bit.”

  And she actually told me? Miracle of miracles. I still wanted to wrap my hands around her throat and just squeeze though. Why did she always have to speak to me like I should be grateful she had taken the time to acknowledge my existence? Her expression made it clear that her coming to the kitchen was a great sacrifice, done only for her love and admiration of my boyfriend.

  “Thanks, Olivia. You didn’t hurt yourself walking all this way, did you?”

  “Very petty, Kassandra. I can’t imagine Rhys finds that attractive.”

  I shrugged. “Everyone has their faults. At least Rhys knows mine.”

  Brody whistled. “Cat fight.”

  “Shut up, Brody,” Olivia snapped. She took a deep breath, and smiled at me. It was so unfriendly I would have thought her an angry vampire, rather than a disgruntled human. “You won’t always be the novelty, Kassandra. Soon, Rhys will see you for what you really are.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “A simple, uninteresting, little girl.”

  “And that makes you?”

  “A woman who knows the real him. After all, I’ve known him longer.”

  “What is it that you don’t understand about past lives?”

  “You aren’t your past. You’ll see. So will he.” She turned then, and left with such flourish I half expected dramatic music to come rolling in.

  Unfortunately, what she said had hit a nerve. I wasn’t my past. I wasn’t Bryn, or even Eva, and despite my efforts, I knew little about them. Sometimes my past kept me up at night.

  Ah well. For now, I guess I needed to ask if Rhys owned a tux.

  Chapter Three: A Sharp Edge

  “Rhys?” It shouldn’t take him so long to call for the carriage. I had waited at the front door for some time, longer than a lady should have to. The party was quite over. Most people had already retired and gone home. Yet I waited. I pulled my fur tight around myself, braced for the cold winter wind, and signaled to the doorman to let me out.

  My father would have died had he seen me walk out into the street on my own. But truthfully, I was becoming worried.

  Not a soul stood outside. I did my best to stay within the doorman’s sight, but I couldn’t see Rhys in anywhere. Gathering my courage, I walked a short way down the street, only to the edge of the building.

  A dreadful sucking sound, accompanied by a low, garbled moan came from the alley just beyond. The hairs on my arms rose, and sharp chill ran down my spine. I turned to go back, but the moonlight broke through the clouds and shadows and I recognized the coat.

  I gasped.

  The man in the alley dropped his victim and turned towards me. His face unmistakable in the moonlight, normally so handsome . . .

  Covered in blood.

  I sat up in bed, one hand clutched over my heart that remembered pounding, but couldn’t now, the other seeking out Rhys.

  I encountered empty and cold sheets. Not there, of course. Just as well, I didn’t need to talk about what I had just seen. It was self-explanatory. Rhys had allowed Eva to see him for what he really was. Cade had told me as much when I first found out about my past lives.

  Eva had fled, been sick, then refused to speak to Rhys for days.

  Catching my breath, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and thought about the details of the memory—the smell of the city streets, stale and cold; the lavish building where the party had taken place, cigarette smoke on the air, the soft fur that had kept Eva warm—until there was nothing left to nag at me and the memory faded. I had figured that trick out on my own. It was sort of like when a song gets stuck in your head. If you sing it all the way through, it usually goes away. If I concentrated on the memory long enough, it would let me go on with my life, like I had satisfied its need to be known.

  Aurelia had been pleased when I told her about my discovery. That pleased me. I had found a way to stop both my memories and the ancient goddess vampire from nagging me incessantly. Of course, Aurelia would come up with something else later. Sometimes it seemed like she had nothing better to do in life than to harass me into remembering things.

  Eva's life was something Aurelia was unquestionably interested in. Given its end, I supposed that wasn’t really a surprise, but despite its arrival—which I would have to reveal to Aurelia—the memory still hadn’t come on my terms. I couldn’t wait for the ability to turn them on and off.

  Since it was still dark outside, I climbed back in bed to get another few hours of shut-eye. I figured I was entitled to an extra bit of sleep after everything that had happened lately. As I rolled over, snuggling back into my pillow, I caught sight of my clock.

  It was only midnight. I’d barely slept at all.

  Which made it very strange that Rhys had already gotten up. Most times I woke to find him still in bed, but awake, and watching me sleep. It was creepy. Something I had pointed out on numerous occasions, though he had yet to cut it out.

  Or maybe he had never come to bed.

  Tossing aside my covers, I slid out of bed and headed for my door, intent on finding him and assuring myself that nothing was wrong.

  And got a door in my face for my efforts.

  Sharp pain made tears come to my eyes. “Ow!”

  “Kassandra?” Rhys hurried around the door, placing something on my desk before pulling my hands from my face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

  Yet one more piece of evidence that something was wrong. He should have heard me. Vampire hearing and all. But for the moment, I was a little more concerned with the shock of having a door bang into my nose. “I’m okay. I think.” Giving my nose a wiggle, I blinked a few times then took a good deep breath.

  He ran a finger along my poor abused appendage. “You look fine.”

  �
��Oh good. Because I’m not really sure how rhinoplasty would work now that I’m undead.”

  “Now I know you’re fine,” he said, and kissed the tip of my nose.

  “I was just about to come looking for you.” I’d waited for him to return after my dizzying phone call with my grandmother, but he hadn’t returned by the afternoon, or even once the sun had set. I had grabbed a book and crawled in bed, intending to wait up for him, but apparently I fell asleep.

  He moved away, avoiding eye contact. “Aurelia arrived finally. Along with Cade, who needed to see me.” He retrieved what he had placed on my desk, a metal box, complete with hinges and an intricate lock. The center of the lid had been lined with black leather, and trimmed with what looked like steel, scalloped and hammered into an old fashioned pattern. Rivets and screws accented each corner and the overall effect was intimidating. It was easily as long as my forearm from elbow to fingertip, and like most things these vampires owned, I had the feeling it was very, very old.

  “About what?”

  For a moment I thought he wouldn’t answer. He traced the designs of the box, silence settling in my room, but then he said, “Politics.”

  “You’re trying to keep me from prying.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “It’s mostly working.”

  “Good.” He sat on the edge of the bed, box in his lap, and watched me.

  I debated for a number of seconds the possible ramifications of not abandoning my prying. In the end, I let it go. There were a lot of things I still didn’t know, and while it would become apparent to me eventually, it didn’t need to tonight. I’d had enough for one day. “So,” I said, plunking myself beside him, “what’s in the box?”

  Rhys placed it in my hands. It was heavier than I had imagined. “Open it,” he said.

  I toyed with the intricate lock for a moment before discovering the release button that had been hidden within one of the designs that decorated the sides. The hinges creaked as I lifted the lid, and for a brief moment I felt a bit of comfort. I liked the sounds of old things.

  Looking inside, my comfort disappeared.

  Velvet lined the interior. A rich blood-red velvet that reminded me of past kings and queens. On that velvet lay a long silver-gleaming dagger, sheathed and polished so the light glistened off the perfectly smooth metal. Silver vines wound their way around the hilt and at the center of the guard sat a small green stone. An emerald.