House of Ravens

by Keary Taylor

  “It’s fractional,” he says, keeping his eye on the second hand of the clock above the stove. He doesn’t say anything for a good sixty seconds. “But it’s rising.”

  Still, he doesn’t sound hopeful.

  “It’ll be enough,” Ian says, looking back down at Elle’s face. Her eyeballs flit back and forth under her lids. Her skin is covered in sweat, her color so very pale.

  It’s incredible how fast a vampire can drain a human. She couldn’t have been inside the house by herself for more than a minute, but she’s already on the brink.

  If the vampire took too much of her blood, filled her system with too much of its numbing toxin, she’ll turn in a couple of hours. She’ll awaken as a Bitten, yellow eyes, thirst for blood, and all.

  “You’ve done all the right things,” Dr. Jarvis says, double checking Ian’s injection sites. “There’s nothing more you can do but wait to see if it works.”

  The look on Ian’s face is hard as he stares back down at his baby sister. The one he’s fought so hard to protect over the years. The one he saved as a baby when he was only ten years old.

  “She’s staying here,” Ian says, never once looking away from her. “Once she wakes up, she’s staying here. Even if I have to tie her up and lock her in a room. I’m not letting her out of my watch again.”

  “Of course,” I say quietly. I want to tell him that this isn’t his fault. That he couldn’t have stopped them from hurting her.

  But I have to carry the guilt, too. If Ian hadn’t been living here because he wants to be with me, he would have been there, with her. And he could have stopped this from happening.

  “Please wake up,” I whisper. Because if she turns, and has to live the rest of her life as a Bitten, that’s on me.

  “CALL HER AGAIN!” I YELL, the anger and confusion rising in my blood.

  Leigh backs away slightly, giving me a look of fear and annoyance. She dials the number once more, pressing the phone to her ear.

  We’ve been trying to get ahold of anyone for the past hour, to no avail. Cameron, Markov, and Lexington haven’t answered. Rowan and Smith aren’t answering. And Anna isn’t, either. I need to know if they found more Bitten around the Ward property. I need to know if they found the cell Lexington told her about.

  But no one will answer.

  “Voicemail again,” Leigh says.

  I stalk past her, out of the kitchen, and into the ballroom. Across the marble floor, to the windows that look out over the river.

  I place my hands on the glass there, bracing myself. Holding myself up. Trying not to lose it completely.

  There’s too much going on. Too many little plots to keep control over.

  Elle.

  Henry.

  This war.

  I haven’t even had two seconds to consider my engagement with Ian.

  The breath rises up in my chest, coming faster and faster. My heart races. My palms sweat.

  And fear takes me over.

  Because this is a familiar sensation.

  This happened once before.

  I had a complete meltdown, and Raheem was witness to it all.

  “Deep breaths, Alivia.”

  I startle, hard, at the voice behind me. I whip around to find Nial standing there, a look of concern on his face.

  “Your heart is racing, your breathing is elevated,” he says as he closes the distance between us and places comforting hands on my shoulders. “I can practically hear you screaming across the house without you saying a word. Have you struggled with anxiety attacks before?”

  I don’t respond at first because his words are so shocking, so unexpected. But it takes a weight off my chest. “An anxiety attack?”

  Nial nods, his serious, gray eyes leveling on me. “They’re perfectly common. Completely understandable with all the stress you’ve been experiencing. I wouldn’t be shocked to find you’re suffering from PTSD.”

  “Like soldiers do?” I ask doubtfully.

  “It doesn’t have to just be human war that triggers it,” he says. “Any number of traumatic events can trigger it. Childbirth, an abusive relationship. Being held prisoner with the constant threat of death.”

  My heart is still racing, and it’s hard to concentrate on his words right now. The breath rips in and out of my chest.

  “Deep breaths,” Nial says. He’s trying to stay calm, but I hear the way his voice hitches, hear the desperation that’s rising in his own voice. “Try to empty your mind.”

  “Liv, what’s wrong?”

  Suddenly, Ian is in the room, too, and seeing the worry on his face just tips me over the edge.

  I can’t breathe. My chest is too tight. I can’t get oxygen.

  Tears leap into my eyes as I grow more desperate. They break out onto my cheeks almost immediately.

  “Liv!” he yells, darting to my side. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s having an anxiety attack,” Nial says as he helps Ian lower me to the floor. “She said she’s had them before.”

  “What?” he asks as he pulls me into his arms. “When?”

  I can’t answer him. I’m trying to get oxygen. I’m trying to worm away from him, desperate to get away from them touching me, but also terrified for him to let me go.

  “I don’t know exactly,” Nial says as he seems to sense my conflict. He backs away, but only just enough to give me some breathing room and not touch me.

  “What can you do to help her?” Ian asks in desperation as he looks down at me. The look of terror on his face just makes it all the worse. I curl myself up into a ball between his legs, squeezing my eyes closed as the monster of anxiety eats me alive.

  Ripping me to shreds. Leaving behind a revenged mound of flesh and blood.

  Their words fade away. Just muffled garbled sounds. Not reaching my brain. Because I am in a place that is numb and fire and ice.

  I think I’m strong.

  I think I can handle it all.

  But then these moments creep up, and remind me that I was human once, after all, and still am.

  WHISPERS PULL ME FROM SLEEP. They’re quiet, low. And I’m instantly relieved when Elle’s is among them.

  But there’s another sound that instantly sends adrenaline burning through my veins.

  A scream. From somewhere on the property. North east of the House.

  I bolt to my feet, momentarily confused at my location. Someone hauled a settee into the ballroom, which I lie on. The scream sounds once more.

  “Did you hear that?” I yell out generally as I yank the doors open, ignoring the dim light that is beginning to rise on the horizon. My feet dart over the patio, around the empty pool, and across the grass. A moment later, I hear three other sets of feet racing after me.

  The scream came from the direction of the workers’ house. My enhanced eyes attempt to block out the light and focus on the house that comes into view.

  Two bodies. One drops to the ground, absolutely still. The other takes off across the property.

  “Beth!” I scream, recognizing one of the housekeepers now that I am closer. I pick up my speed, dropping to her side. “Don’t let him get away!” I scream as Ian and Nial race after the figure that took off.

  “No, Beth,” I breathe, shaking her as she lies in my arms. Her pale face stares up at the sky, a small line of blood leaking from her neck, dripping into the grass below us. Rath stops at my side, taking half of her weight, pressing his fingers into the side of her neck.

  “She’s gone,” I say before Rath declares it. Her empty eyes stare at nothing, the breath not rising and falling in her chest. “She…she’s gone.”

  Rath looks at me, letting a slow breath out through his nose. He only nods in agreement.

  “Why…” I shake my head, fighting down the debilitating feelings from rising up inside of me once more. “Why would they attack the staff? They’re human. They pose no threat to the Bitten!”

  “They’re still attempting to tear you down,” Rath says as he
brushes the hair back from Beth’s face. “They’re trying to hurt you.”

  A scream of frustration rises from my chest as I slam my fists into the grass around me, only to bury them five inches down into the dirt. “This war needs to hurry up and get over with. It’s time for blood.”

  This is personal.

  Birthrights should not always just run through blood.

  It’s the one and only clue that I have as to why this war is going on. Muttered in the trailer house by the first cell we found.

  Voices from the House trickle to my ears, just as three figures emerge from down the property, one of them being dragged.

  The Bitten man hangs with his head bobbing, looking barely coherent. As Ian and Nial drop him beside me, I see why. The bones of his chest are caved in, crushed, as if a powerful fist punched him there.

  Were he human, he’d be dead.

  “You,” I growl, fisting his shirt and standing over the top of him. “Tell me how to find the rest of your people. It’s time to end this.”

  He looks up at me, smiling through bloody and broken teeth. “You think you can win this. But a few ants on the beach cannot defeat the rising tide.”

  “Taking out two of your cells is a good way to start, though.”

  I look up to see Anna walking across the lawn. She’s covered in spatters of blood, her lip split, a gash still bleeding above her eye. But most of it doesn’t look to be her own.

  “You found them?” I ask, pressing a knee across my prisoner’s throat.

  “Two cells,” she repeats. “One on the edge of town, out in the sticks. Another down the river about three miles, middle of a swamp. We took out eighteen Bitten.”

  “Eighteen?” I breathe, in utter shock. Ian swears profusely under his breath.

  The man beneath me laughs, a low, quiet thing, flashing his bloody teeth again. “The rising tide.”

  I rip the stake from Ian’s grasp and bury it into the man’s chest, blood splattering all over my face.

  “Eighteen,” I say again as I climb off of him, running my bloody hands through my hair absentmindedly in frustration. “Has anyone heard from Markov yet?”

  “What was he doing?” Anna asks, her brows furrowing.

  I quickly relay the events of yesterday evening, though leaving out the part about my anxiety attack.

  The sound of footsteps on gravel echo across the property as the sun rises higher in the horizon. “Let’s get inside,” I say. “Rath…”

  I don’t even have to finish asking the question. “I will take care of her,” he says of Beth.

  My heart aches. Another innocent life lost in this crazy war. I don’t even know where he is taking her when he stands and starts walking back in the direction of the workers’ house. But I can’t stay and find out because the sun is rising in the sky, and we only have minutes before the light becomes unbearable.

  “Come on, Liv,” Ian says. His voice is tender, caring. He places a hand at the small of my back and guides me in the direction of the house, where I can hear three others walking.

  Many bodies are filling the ballroom by the time we get inside and close the doors, blocking out all of the light. It seems news of these attacks has spread to the Institute because every one of them has arrived at the House, as well.

  “Did you find anyone?” I demand of Markov as they walk into the room. My eyes go to Cameron, whose hands are coated in blood, and Lexington, who has a spray of it across his chest.

  Markov, however, is perfectly clean. Even though I know he’s the most deadly of the three.

  “There were three others not far from the Ward property,” Markov says. I realize he holds a handkerchief in his hand, and he’s cleaning them. It’s covered in blood. “When they did not offer any useful information, we took care of them.”

  My eyes flick to Lexington and Cameron, who look at Markov with fear in their eyes. He’s crazy, Lexington mouths. Cameron makes a motion, like ripping limbs and heads from bodies were involved.

  I try not to shiver.

  “Only three?” I ask.

  “Don’t forget, with the two you killed, that’s five Bitten they sent after my sister,” Ian growls. I look to my side when I hear a movement and see Elle walking out, looking just as stoic and empty as ever.

  “That’s eighteen that my team killed, and five others,” Anna says. “That’s twenty-three taken out. I don’t like the sound of these numbers.”

  “The rising tide,” I say quietly, recalling the words of the man I killed.

  “How many of them could there be?” Lexington says. “I mean, with this many people going missing, there should be a multi-state panic going on. ‘Cause unless we’ve somehow miraculously taken out most of their army, which, look at the facts of what Charles Allaway said, twenty-three people is a lot.”

  I nod. It’s insane this isn’t more widely known, all these people going missing. “Lillian, have you heard anything? On the news? Talk around town? Has anyone gotten suspicious?”

  She shakes her head. “Not that I’ve heard of yet. No one else from around town has been attacked since that poor boy. I’ve not heard of anything on the news.”

  “Then they’re being careful who they’re going after,” Ian says, folding his arms over his chest.

  “They could be going after loners,” Danny offers. He, too, is coated in blood and other gore. “People that no one will notice going missing.”

  I nod. It makes sense.

  “I’m this close to making you all hunker down in this House and not letting anyone leave, ever again,” I say, shaking my head and holding my thumb and index finger within an inch of each other. “But I don’t think that’s smart. We’re safer spread out like this, I think. We’ll keep a better eye on things this way.”

  Anna nods. “Samuel, Christian, Leigh, I want you watching the House. We need time to regroup. To plan. But for right now, I need a damn shower.”

  She stalks off, and she doesn’t even hesitate in heading straight into Christian’s room to use his.

  There’s some kind of mixed up history between her and both Kask brothers, but I’m sure not going to get mixed up in their drama. Not to mention whatever is going on between her and the Sheriff.

  All the other bloody players seem to agree. Each of them peels off, heading to get cleaned up.

  Meanwhile, I sense the sun break over the horizon. The side door to the kitchen opens, and Katina sets to making dinner for everyone. Like the death of her coworker never happened.

  “Come on,” Ian says, taking my hand in his. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

  For a moment, I don’t allow him to drag me off. Too high of a high to suddenly just break off and do something so normal, like take a shower. The adrenaline hasn’t burned out of my blood yet.

  “It’s day now,” Ian says, standing in front of me. He places his hands on either side of my face and forces me to look him in the eye. “It’s a brilliantly sunny day outside. There’s no way the Bitten can do anything more right now. Take a breather, Liv. Take a shower. Eat. Regroup. We’ll fight more tonight, I’m sure.”

  I nod, blinking five times fast. “Okay.” He leads me toward the stairs and indicates for Elle to follow us.

  “Are you okay?” I ask her. I’m searching for signs that she’s turned, but don’t see any.

  She nods. “Still human for another day,” she breathes. “I’m mostly just tired now.”

  I put an arm around her shoulder and hug her into my side. “I’m so sorry about that earlier. I should have acted faster. With everything going on, I should have known they would be watching and try to ambush us.”

  “You can’t plan for every tiny move, Liv,” she says, offering me a hard won little smile. “I’m okay. Ian always knows how to fix things.”

  I look at him and smile. I teased him about it once, being the protective big brother. But I love that about him. He’ll do anything to protect her. And he did what he’s so good at: being a paramedic and saving live
s.

  “We’ve got an extra room,” I say as Ian and I walk her to the end of the hall, to the last bedroom on the left. “It’s all yours. I promise, no one will hurt you here.”

  “Thanks, Liv,” she says with a little smile. She walks in and waves goodbye before closing the door to shower.

  Something gives in me, and I relax into Ian’s side as we walk together down the hall to our bedroom. He wraps his arms supportively around me, pressing his lips into the top of my bloodstained hair.

  “You did good today,” he says quietly as we cross the threshold and close the door behind us. “Your quick thinking saved Elle. You took out some of the enemy. You lead like you do best.”

  I shrug, only thinking of my failures. Of Elle’s attack. Of Beth’s death. My panic attack. “I tried.”

  “You succeeded,” he says as he brings me to stand in front of him, just outside of the bathroom.

  I nod, but only because I’m too exhausted to argue. Offering him a tiny smile, I turn for the bathroom, pulling Ian behind me. I start the water in the shower, turning it on extra hot. I strip down to just my bra and underwear and look over my shoulder at Ian. “Stay with me?”

  He doesn’t hesitate. He takes his shirt and jeans off, climbing into the hot water with me, wearing only his boxer briefs.

  I should be more here in this moment. Appreciating the water as it runs over Ian’s mostly-naked form. More self-conscious of the way the water soaks through my thin, white underthings.

  But I’m depleted. I rest my forehead against the tile wall, letting Ian run a bar of lavender-scented soap over my body, scrubbing the blood and dirt from my skin. Letting him move me like a rag doll, letting him take care of me.

  The look on his face isn’t lustful. It’s firm. Determined. He knows what I need in this moment, and he is up to the task.

  I’ve taken care of myself for so long, every day since I moved out. Every day since I lost my mother. Since I had to give birth to a baby girl and give her away to a family who could take care of her.

  I did what I had to do to take care of myself.

  But right now, I give that weight to Ian.