by Juniper Hart
“What terminal?” the cab driver snapped back at him, any remnants of his jovial mood gone entirely.
“International.”
There was no way he could endure another world flight that day. He needed at least twenty-four hours of rest after a flight that long, but Cassius could not bear the thought of staying in California for one more night. He knew if he did, he would do something he regretted.
Cassius paid the rate on the meter, adding two hundred more dollars to the already one hundred fifty-dollar tab he had created. Without a word, he jumped from the taxi, ignoring the driver’s grateful but perplexed look as he slammed the door in his wake. He strode purposefully toward the United counter.
“I need a flight to Sydney,” he informed the attendant.
She smiled broadly, her fingers working on the screen. Slowly, her smile faded. “I’m sorry, sir, but there are no flights until tomorrow at seven a.m.”
“Anywhere in Australia tonight?” Cassius asked, his heart starting to pound. If he could make it back to the continent, at least he could manage to fly himself home without overexerting himself. Something in his head excitedly called that this was a sign to stay and keep looking for Brooklyn, but he shushed that little voice, even as the attendant shook her head again.
“I’m very sorry, sir, the flight to Sydney is the next one anywhere on our radar at this moment. I would be happy to recommend a hotel for you if you like,” she suggested pleasantly.
No! Cassius wanted to yell. Can’t you see I have to get out of here now? Before I do something I regret?
“Sir?”
“When is your next flight to New York?” he asked suddenly, and her face seemed to relax.
“In two hours,” she replied. “American Airlines, flight—”
“Book it,” Cassius told her, slapping his credit card onto the counter. If he was going to be stuck in America, he was not going to suffer on the west coast, trying to convince himself not to hunt down the one-night stand who had struck a match in his soul. No, he would go to Anders and spend the day with his brother in New York. If that didn’t make him want to run home screaming, never to return to the Americas, nothing would.
“You should have called first,” Anders said as soon as he opened the door, looking behind him nervously. “This isn’t a good time.” Cassius arched his brow and chuckled.
“You devil, you,” he chided, but Anders shook his head.
“It’s not like that,” he muttered, reluctantly stepping aside to let his brother inside the penthouse. “How did you get up here, anyway? The concierge didn’t ring.”
Cassius flippantly waved his hand. “What kind of question is that? You of all people should know I don’t wait to be rung—”
His words died on his lips as Maximus stood up from his spot in the sunken living room.
“What are you doing here?” Cassius demanded. He debated whether to turn around and leave, but he knew that he would only be walking back into his own confused thoughts if he left his brother’s condo.
“It’s probably good that you’re here, after all,” Anders sighed, closing the door to the hallway and following Cassius across the marble floor.
“Why are you in New York?” Cassius asked again, and his brother hung his head.
“I am just visiting,” Maximus mumbled.
Cassius did not believe a word of what he’d said. “Does this have something to do with Father?”
“No,” Maximus started, “I am just—”
Anders cut him off before he could keep lying. “He is going to find out in a fortnight anyway, Maximus. Just save him the game of twenty questions and tell him what is going on.”
Cassius had a feeling he did not want to actually know what was going on. But as he darted looks between his older and younger brothers, he knew there was no way to escape what he was about to learn.
“Father wants to tell us when we’re all together,” Maximus complained.
“And yet you are here telling Anders,” Cassius reminded him. “What is the issue now? What harebrained scheme has Father plotted this time?” It was not a disrespectful question, and anyone who knew King Rui knew that he was not renowned for his mental stability.
In the feudal days, the king’s power had been unyielding, and he had been deemed a fearsome, unforgiving force. All were terrified of him, especially after the strange way in which the Northmen had perished. When the smoke had cleared that morning, there was not one Northman left—only the king and his six sons, standing on the drawbridge with fire in their eyes and the charred remains of the enemy laying at their feet.
It was clear to anyone who saw them that very morning that something had changed in the Williams Clan; something inexplicable, the world around them much darker and heavier. No one understood the spell that had fallen over Misty Woods. No one except, of course, those who had remained in the castle that night, entranced by the words Opal had spoken.
King Rui was affected the most: his temper started exploding at random, his curses heard loudly across the dale. The people were scared and wanted an uprising, but they were not foolish enough to try, sensing danger around every corner. Everyone could agree that if they wished their crops to be spared and their livestock left unharmed, they would tend to the king’s lands and not ask questions.
That had been a long time ago, and with that unsurpassable power came a massive ego, one that filled the castle walls and suffocated everyone within it.
Their father’s feeling of invincibility had become unbearable. In time, the princes had learned that their safest place was away from the king, a man who fought relentlessly to regain the control and dictatorship he had once so freely possessed over the commoners. He had never come to terms with the fact that he was now king of absolutely nothing: an old man in a refurbished castle in Northern England with nothing to look forward to but his own unbalanced ideas.
There had been many. So many, in fact, that they had become bemused anecdotes when the boys got together out of Rui’s prying ears.
He had married off his sons to various royal families, hoping to ally his failing kingdom to those that were thriving, but few successful kings wanted their names associated with a family losing face. When that scheme had failed, the tireless king had tried extortion and blackmail, hoping to play a political game to ensure his position in the world. The result had been disastrous, forcing Rui to murder several princes and two kings to keep his treason and identity secret.
There had been legitimate money-making ventures, pyramid schemes, and investments, but in his own mind, Rui was still the great king of a prosperous land. The old man had never truly caught up with the centuries, and despite his basic knowledge of the outside world, he was still very much the man he had been seven hundred years in the past.
“Well?” Cassius groaned. “What stupidity has he concocted now? And moreover, why haven’t you stopped him?”
Maximus and Anders exchanged a long look.
“It’s not so simple this time,” Maximus muttered in a voice so low, Cassius almost did not hear him.
“What is it?” A peculiar feeling inched its way up his spine as both brothers stared at him, their eyes a mishmash of blue and green steel.
“Father wants to go to war,” Maximus announced. The words were ridiculous, and Cassius began to laugh for the first time in weeks.
“War?” he snorted. “With whom? He’s already in a constant battle with himself.”
“This is serious, Cass,” Anders murmured.
“Someone needs to bring him to the twenty-first century. There is no one to fight. And why? What does he want? He still owns lands, and—”
“He wants the entire world,” Maximus interrupted sharply. “He wants to wipe out mankind.”
Cassius gaped at him, unable to say anything. When he finally collected himself, he managed to speak. “What are you talking about? What does that even mean?”
Maximus inhaled sharply and stared at him, his eyes locking on Cas
sius.
“He wants to expose his secret and cause the world to yield.”
9
“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”
Brooklyn hadn’t expected anything less from Audrey, but she was already regretting having told her friend where she lived.
It’s not like I could hide it from her much longer, Brooklyn reasoned. She probably has a GPS imbedded in my neck or something.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she commented dryly, ushering Audrey off the front stoop and into the living room.
“I’m not,” Audrey barked back, looking around the bungalow with critical eyes. “This dump is smaller than your last dump!”
“It’s not a dump!” Brooklyn protested, and she meant it. Not that the townhouse she had shared with Veronica had been a bad place either. Audrey was surely just looking for ways to make her feel guilty about the decisions she had made recently.
“Pack your shit,” Audrey ordered. “I’m here to take you home to Burlingame.”
Brooklyn didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She settled on a snort. “Well, that’s not going to happen. Want a coffee?”
“I want a shot of tequila!” Audrey growled. “I want six shots of tequila. What the hell are you doing? This is—is—is—” She stared imploringly at Brooklyn, apparently not finding the appropriate words for whatever it was that she wanted to say. “I’m not joking. Go find me something to drink before I strangle you,” she snapped, and Brooklyn turned to oblige, swallowing the urge to laugh.
It really was not funny, and she knew that Audrey was worried about her, but the redhead’s flair for the dramatic was unsurpassed by anything she had ever seen. She definitely belonged in Vaudeville.
“It’s not that bad,” Brooklyn assured her as she made her way to the liquor cabinet. “Ryan apologized, and—”
“Oh, shut up and pour faster!” Audrey screamed. “I can’t listen to this!”
Brooklyn felt herself tense. Why had she told her that she had reconciled with Ryan? Then she shook her head to herself, fully knowing why she had done it. Audrey was the closest thing to family she had, and no matter how infuriating the woman could be, Brooklyn loved her obnoxious friend like a sister. She certainly pissed her off like a sister would.
Brooklyn was suddenly seized by a terrible pain in her side. She doubled over slightly, and Audrey rushed toward her.
“What happened?” she demanded. “Are you hurt? Did that bastard do something to you?”
“No!” Brooklyn yelled in annoyance, waiting out the pain. It was like a double cramp, knocking the wind out of her. Her heard thudded wildly in her chest. Was it the baby?
“Breathe,” Audrey instructed, leading her away from the cabinet and toward the suede sofa. Hunter barked, his tail wagging nervously. “Haven’t you trained this mutt to kill predators yet?” Audrey muttered to herself. “What are you good for? Hunter, what an inept name.”
“Will you come up for air?” Brooklyn asked, annoyed. She placed her palm against her flat stomach, rubbing away the cramp, and to her surprise, something jutted out to kick her hand. She snatched it away, her eyes bugging.
I’m only two months along, she thought in shock. There’s no way a baby can be kicking already. It doesn’t even have legs!
An image of Cass’s dragon head flashed into her mind, and nausea overcame her.
She bounced from the cushion and bolted toward the powder room, Audrey hurrying after her, but Brooklyn managed to shut the door before retching horribly into the toilet. The morning sickness had been nearly violent, but only once a week or so. Coupled with the searing pain in her abdomen, Brooklyn was growing concerned about the health of the child.
I need to see a doctor, she thought, wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead as she flushed the toilet.
Audrey pounded on the door.
“Let me in!” she yelled. “What happened? I’m going to call 9-1-1!”
“I’m fine!” Brooklyn called back in exasperation. “It’s food poisoning or something. I haven’t been feeling well in days.” She opened the door and offered Audrey a weak smile. “See? All better.” She brushed past her friend and made her way back into the front room to resume making Audrey’s drink.
“I bet you haven’t been feeling well,” Audrey muttered. “But I’m more concerned about your mental health. You need a psych exam for taking that bastard back.”
“He made a mistake,” Brooklyn groaned.
“Oh, yeah? He mistakenly fell into some stripper’s vagina, huh? Man, I hate it when that happens.”
Brooklyn dropped a tumbler glass in Audrey’s outstretched hand, gently perching on the edge of the loveseat. “I really don’t want to talk about this, Audrey.”
“What did you think we were going to talk about?” Audrey demanded, her green eyes wide with disbelief. “The weather?”
“How is everyone at home?”
“Worried about you!” Audrey insisted, and Brooklyn could see that this was going to be an excruciating visit.
“Well, now you can tell them that I am perfectly fine.”
Audrey finally shut her mouth, but only to purse her lips around the rim of the glass, studying Brooklyn’s face with scrutiny. “Something happened, didn’t it? Something bad. That’s why you’re here. Tell me what it is.”
Brooklyn shrugged, trying to seem indifferent, but she could not hold Audrey’s intense stare. Shifting her eyes away, she responded, “I told you, he came to my work and apologized. He assured me that it won’t happen again, and I believed him.”
Audrey didn’t speak right away, as if she could tell her methods so far were not being successful. She cocked her fiery head to the side, her eyes narrowing slightly.
“Fine,” she replied slowly. “I’ll accept that you forgave him… even though I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“Thanks,” Brooklyn said, though she could tell Audrey was not finished. A moment later, her suspicions were confirmed.
“But why did you uproot your life in Burlingame?” her friend asked. “You worked so hard to finally put down roots somewhere, and you just pissed all over that.”
“My landlord threw us out!” Brooklyn cried. “I had nowhere to live, Audrey. Where was I supposed to go?”
“Seriously?” Audrey sneered. “Is that the answer you’re going with? Because if it is, I’m going to backhand you right now. You didn’t even tell any of us about that! You could have stayed with me, or Maddy, or Stella. Shit, even Christine and that religious nut boyfriend of hers would have been thrilled to have you! Instead, you take back Cheating Dickhead and move five hours away without a word to anyone! What about your job, Brook? You were so close to getting that promotion—”
Brooklyn snorted derisively. “I was no closer to getting that promotion when I left than I was two years ago! They just kept dangling it in front of me. Anyway, I can work anywhere. This is LA, Audrey. They have more pharmaceutical companies here.”
“This is Santa Goddamn Clarita, Brooklyn!” her friend screamed. “This is not Los Angeles! You are tucked away here in your little shitty bungalow with your dog, wearing a muumuu in the middle of the damn work day!”
“This is not a muumuu!” Brooklyn cried, glancing down at herself. “This is a—”
“Are you purposely playing dumb with me, or have the suburban fumes gotten to you already?” Audrey questioned. “This is not your life, Brooklyn. This is the life Ryan wants for you. He’s keeping you here, holed up away from society while he’s off roaming the streets of LA with a gun like the little shit he is. He’s going to be back to his old tricks, but you’ll be none the wiser because he’s taken you away from everyone you love. This is what abusers do!”
“He is not abusive!” Brooklyn yelled, running her hands down her face. “You’re such a drama queen! I came out here because I needed a change, too. Maybe I needed to get away from your nosy, intrusive face for a bit!”
Contrary to what Brooklyn had hoped, her words had no effect on Aud
rey, who held her smirk, unmoved by Brooklyn’s proclamation.
“Well, fat chance of that happening,” she chuckled. “I’m going to be nosy and intrusive until you die, like it or not.”
Brooklyn stared at her, and for a second, all the annoyance and anger she felt toward Audrey disappeared. Instead, they were replaced by an immense gratitude that she had someone on her side—someone who cared about the choices she had made and whether she lived or died. Why was she pushing Audrey away? She only wanted to help her.
Tears welled up in Brooklyn’s eyes. Instantly, Audrey was at her side, pulling her into an embrace.
“I’m here, girl,” she whispered into Brooklyn’s blonde head, squeezing her shoulders tightly. “Whatever it is, I will always be here for you.”
The men in my life might be a royal disappointment, Brooklyn thought, holding onto her friend, but Audrey is always at my side, thank God.
She had barely finished her thought when another stab pierced into her side, causing a scream to rip its way out of her throat. Audrey pulled back at once, gazing at her with horrified eyes.
“What? What?” she cried as Brooklyn fell forward, clutching her stomach.
“Call… an… ambulance,” Brooklyn managed to gasp before she collapsed onto the floor, writhing in pain. Audrey wasted no time, rushing to her purse to snatch up her cell phone and running back toward her fallen friend.
“Please!” she yelled into the phone. “I need an ambulance to… to…”
She looked around helplessly, and Brooklyn rasped out the address. “1867… Orchard… Village…”
“1867 Orchard Village. My friend is… I don’t know what’s wrong with her!” Audrey cried. “She’s white as a sheet and doubled over in pain!”
Audrey listened, her hand trying to rub at Brooklyn’s back comfortingly. Even in her agony, Brooklyn could feel Audrey’s panic.
“I don’t know what happened!” her friend screamed at the dispatcher. “One minute she was fine, the next—”
