by J. D. Brown
She scanned me with her rust-orange gaze and drew a quick breath. “I’m sorry.”
I put my hands on my hips. “For what, exactly?”
She blinked to the side and squelched her cheeks. We weren’t alone in the ballroom. People lingered near the perimeter and in the halls, sipping a particularly red liquid that made my mouth water and my stomach groan. I almost missed Bridget’s whisper.
“For Panama. For everything.” She looked at me, as though waiting for a reaction, then lowered her gaze.
I didn’t know what to say. I was still mad at her.
“I’m going home today,” she continued. “To Paris.”
My brow furrowed. “They’re letting you go? Just like that?”
Her gaze lowered another inch and she shrugged. “I told Prince Brinnon everything I know. It wasn’t much.”
My hands fisted at my sides. Bridget gave Apollyon his ring—the one thing that could have killed us all—yet she got to go free while my mother and Anthony faced possible consequences for being kidnapped and held hostage?
Bridget hugged herself and her lips teetered. “Well, I... I just wanted to say au revoir. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.” I turned to leave.
“Wait.”
Despite my better judgment, I stopped and faced her again.
“You have every right to hate me, Ema ta Korento.” Her gaze slid to the other patrons in the room and she winced. “Zee entire clan has every right, but...” She looked at me and a sad smile tugged the edges of her mouth. “Eternity is very long and very lonely. Am I selfish to hope that one day we could call on each other again?”
Something about the way she said the word lonely made my palms sweat. I unclenched my hands and smoothed them over my hips. An idea came to me, immediately followed by a lump in my throat. I was so going to regret this, but I couldn’t seem to stop the words from leaving my mouth.
“Does Jesu know you’re leaving?”
“No.” Bridget shook her head. “I thought it best not to see him.”
“Not even to thank him for the pardon?”
She met my gaze and her brow wrinkled.
“You didn’t know the pardon was his idea, did you?”
She shook her head then sighed in defeat. “You must thank him for me.”
“No.” My chest constricted, as though squeezing all the oxygen from my heart, but I held on to my resolve. “You’ll thank him yourself. Don’t leave yet. Stay a few days. Try to seduce him.”
Bridget blinked and shook her head again. “Ema, I—”
“He still cares about you. He’ll run to you with open arms.”
“Just because he got me a pardon?” Bridget rolled her eyes. “Trust me, I’ve tried. He loves you, Ema. Whatever we had in zee past is gone. He’s all yours.”
“But he’s not mine.”
A couple of people turned their heads to look at my outburst. They were already capable of hearing every word, and only pretended not to out of politeness. I took Bridget’s arm and pulled her aside so that my back was to the others.
“I broke up with him,” I said in hushed tones. “I can never be with Jesu. Not while he’s...” I couldn’t say the rest in front of our audience. Not while he still searches for the real prophecy. Not when the girl in his premonition will always be his first priority. I knew Jesu loved me—but how could I compete with that? How could I ask him to cut himself in half; to divide his heart between what he wanted and what he was compelled to do? We would only resent each other—especially when my own heart would always go to my children first.
I didn’t need to say all that to Bridget. She already knew. The proof was in her eyes, and in past conversations. She had warned me Jesu’s heart wasn’t his to give.
“Please,” I said. “As a friend, do this favor for me? If he turns you down again, well, you’re already leaving. At least we’ll be sure. But he deserves a chance to find happiness without me getting in the way. You both deserve that.”
Bridget sighed. “I am already sure, Ema. Jesu doesn’t love me. But I will try because you asked me to.”
I nodded my thanks. Then I thought of something and grabbed her arm. She looked at me in askance. “Just give me an hour first. I was on my way to talk to him about something Brinnon said. Then he’s all yours.”
Bridget smiled and gestured in the direction of the foyer. “Go.”
“Thank you.” I released her arm and then rounded the arched opening into the main hall. A handful of Brinnon’s family members lounged on the brown leather chaises in the foyer, deep in conversation. I minded my own business while reaching for the staircase railing when another feminine voice halted me in my tracks.
“Where is she going?”
A hush fell over the room. I could feel their gazes on my back. Unlike the guests in the ballroom, this group didn’t seem quite as apathetic. I turned to face them. Auda stood a good twelve inches taller than me with one hand on her hip and plenty of attitude in her piercing yellow eyes. She was pretty. Tall and curvy with blonde hair styled in loose curls that brushed her shoulders. Her fake tan made her Amazonian facial features just exotic enough to pass for Argentinian. She even spoke with a Spanish accent.
“I’m just going to my room,” I said, not sure why Auda made me so nervous.
Her gaze narrowed as she scanned me from head to toe. “So you’re the puta everyone’s talking about.”
I winced to the side. Damn it. I knew they were talking about me.
Auda scoffed. “You don’t look so tough to me.”
“Auda.” A man seated in an armchair near the bookshelves under the landing spoke. He held a book in his hands, but set it aside on a circular end table. His tone sounded like a warning as he glared at the blonde vampyre. “Not here.”
“Por qué no?” She was talking to him, but kept her eyes on me. “I want to know why she thinks the largest, strongest clan in the world would bend over backward for gypsy trash.”
My throat dried and my tongue suddenly felt too big for my mouth. How did she know about my heritage? Brinnon’s words came back to me. Despite what you are. Though I had never confirmed it, I always suspected Nikolas knew more about me than he let on—more than just the premonition. While my heritage never seemed to bother the late king, he evidently felt the need to explain himself to his heir. Brinnon could have told his siblings for the same reason.
On the other hand, they all could have made the deduction themselves. Mom reeked. A single whiff of her scent would clue them in big time. And even though my parents were confined to their rooms, there were enough people around—guests, soldiers, and servants alike—for gossip to spread. My chest burned as I scanned the room, trying to gauge everyone’s reaction. Sets of curious gold eyes watched me, waiting for my reaction.
“You don’t have to answer,” said the man near the bookshelf. He stood and faced Auda; all wispy hair and stern jawlines. His irises were several shades darker than his kin’s. More copper and earthly, like old pennies. “Ema prevented a war. Apollyon was a real threat. Three-hundred years of terror and chaos during his lifetime. There’s no telling what he might have done given another chance. That is a debt we will honor.”
“Oh please.” Auda crossed her arms, and her accent sounded more German than Spanish. “How do we know our troops couldn’t have beaten Apollyon on their own? Or the Elite for that matter? Heck, Father could have gotten his own magic rock and done it himself. Gypsies are con artists. How do we know she didn’t orchestrate Father’s death? How do we know she isn’t working with Apollyon?”
A third person stood. He had been sitting next to Auda and was glaring at her now. “Because Father and Brinnon signed the contract along with Mother and Sara. Dad would never take such matters lightly. He made a decision as our king, and Brinnon still stands behind that decision. We are bound by honor and blood to stand with him.”
Auda arched her brow. “So you’ll just follow along like sheep? Think of how this will look to the Hi
gh Blood Council. We’ll become a laughing stock. We’ll appear weak.” She wrinkled her nose. “There are others who agree with me. Kings can be overruled.”
“Enough.” The vampyre by the bookshelves clenched his fists and curled his lips back to show his fangs. “We will discuss this after the coronation as we agreed.” His gaze slid to mine, and I tensed. “Miss Ema, I suggest you take your leave.”
I hadn’t said anything during the entire confrontation. In fact, my chest hurt from holding my breath. But what could I have said? It never occurred to me that my Romani heritage would be found out, or that it would matter now that I was a vampyre. The reality frightened me. The terms of the contract were specific. Every member of the der Wölfe royal family had to sign it, or the agreement would be void. With Apollyon already suppressed, I was the only one with everything to lose should Brinnon change his mind and decide he didn’t want to look foolish in front of the Council. I trusted Brinnon—but his kingdom was so vast. Being a good king meant putting his people first, and I wasn’t Alpan. I wasn’t sure I belong to any clan at all.
“Ema?” The man by the bookshelf stared, his gaze thin with meaning. Get out of here, the look said.
I turned and took the stairs two at a time, my heart racing. I went straight to Jesu’s room and banged on the door. No answer.
“Ugh, where is he when I need him?” I turned and found Anthony down the hall, standing just inside the frame of his open bedroom door, much to the chagrin of his wary guard. He raked his fingers through his sandy blonde waves, feigning indifference.
“Your boyfriend’s out with your dad.”
“He’s not my... wait, what?”
Anthony rolled his eyes. “Tall guy? Long hair like a chick? He left with your dad. You know, I never pegged you for the gothic Fabio type.”
I arched my brow. “Why are you awake? It’s like three in the morning, go to sleep.”
“I could say the same to you,” he challenged.
I narrowed my gaze.
Anthony took a step back and shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.” His jaw tensed and his gaze slid to the side.
That’s when I noticed the dark circles under his hazel eyes.
He looked past me, at the guards, and swallowed. “Ema, we need to talk.”
I drew a slow breath. Anthony must have a million questions. Where the heck were we, who the heck were these people? More importantly, what were they? But I didn’t know how to answer any of that. Anthony’s ignorance was his ticket home.
“I’m not speaking to you,” I said coldly.
His brows turned upward. He wet his lips and drew a shaky breath. “Look, I know things ended badly between us—”
“Badly?” I scoffed. “You cheated on me. You broke my heart, you bastard.”
“I’m sorry.”
I blinked and then pressed my lips together, caught off guard. That was the first time he’d apologized. His hazel gaze bore into mine, pleading from beneath a fan of long, beautiful eyelashes. Even rimmed with exhaustion, Anthony’s eyes had always been his best asset. The kind women killed for. But I wasn’t playing the guilt card just to save him. Those puppy dog eyes unearthed a mountain of hurt. Betrayal burned in my veins, and my fangs itched to end it. I crossed my arms over my chest and dug my fingernails into my biceps.
Anthony winced. “You can’t punish me forever.”
Watch me.
I was about to say the words when, somewhere in the back of the mind, my vampyre senses registered Jesu’s scent. It rose from the direction of the tower, along with the sound of his heavy boots hitting the stone steps one at a time, his breathy chuckle an echo of whatever conversation he shared with my father. I could sense Dad next to him, too. I gave Anthony one final glare before facing the tower entrance.
The tops of their heads appeared first as they rose from around the bend. They carried paper grocery bags in each arm, their hair a bit windblown, and smelled of summer air. Jesu’s easy grin disappeared the moment he noticed me. His glaze flickered to Anthony and back.
“Is everything all right?”
“No, everything is not all right. What were you thinking? He’s not supposed to leave his room, much less the castle.” I gestured to Dad.
The two men glanced at each other and the resemblance was uncanny. They both sported long, straight black hair, rugged jeans, and a laid-back disposition. Dad’s hair was longer than Jesu’s and braided in loose pigtails with small beads and tiny feathers fastened to ends that reach as far as his gut.
Jesu cleared his throat. “Um, well...”
“I needed to go to the market, sweetheart.” Dad nodded to indicate the grocery bags. “Jesu gave me a ride.”
“At three in the morning?”
“It’s closer to five, isn’t it?” He jiggled his arm as though trying to unveil a wrist watch, but his hands were too full to manage it. “No offense, pumpkin, but I can only stand so much canned soup.”
I decided to ignore the fact that most grocery stores don’t open until eight, because I really didn’t want to continue this conversation. I had more important things to discuss.
“Whatever.” I looked at Jesu and narrowed my gaze. “I need to talk to you. Privately.”
Jesu adjusted the weight of the grocery bags and then opened the door to Dad’s room. He set the bags down just inside the threshold, and then gestured to his own bedroom across the hall.
“No, I mean private.” I gave the guards a pointed look.
Jesu sighed. “That will not be an easy task right now.”
I wondered if that was why they didn’t take the groceries to the kitchen—assuming there were any actual groceries in those bags. I was going to have to talk to Brinnon about getting stricter guards.
“I know a place.” I headed toward the exit opposite the tower. Jesu followed, leaving Dad and Anthony behind with the guards.
I took Jesu to my secret hidey spot—a dusty old school room full of antique writing desks and forgotten textbooks. I discovered it shortly after Jesu and I had moved into the castle. The door was a slab of thick, solid wood and very heavy. Together, we managed to pry the door open just enough for the two of us to slip inside. The timber beast slammed shut of its own accord, sealing us in pitch black. Sparks clicked from Jesu’s lighter and a tiny flame ignited. He lifted the lighter overhead and glanced around.
“How do you know about this place?”
“I kind of stumbled upon it.” I nodded toward the back. “There’s a candlestick on the shelf near the vent.”
Jesu crossed the room and found the candle. I kept it next to a screwdriver and four rusty screws, but if he noticed them, he didn’t say anything about it. Just as well; I wasn’t going to tell him about the hidden passageway behind the vent. I didn’t think he’d approve of me using it.
Jesu lit the wick and then held the candle at an angle until a small pool of hot wax gathered on one of the desk tops. He planted the base of the candle against the melted wax and waited a moment for it to cool. I flinched at the damage it would do to the hundred-year-old wood. Letting go of the candle, Jesu sat on the edge of the desk and folded his arms over his chest.
“You wanted to talk?”
“You first.” I leaned against a desk one row across from his. “Why the errand with my Dad?”
He chuckled to the side. “He asked for a ride, I offered. Is that really so terrible?”
I shrugged. “Just weird, I guess.”
“What is weird, Ema, is that your parents have been here for a week now and you still refuse to speak to them.”
“That’s not true. I talk to Mom.”
“You argue with your mother. That is not the same.”
“It is in my family.” I crossed my arms, feeling defensive.
Jesu raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Do you remember the day we spent on Lusmasaari, in the cave?”
“Yeah.”
“Remember when you told me how homesick you felt?”
I d
idn’t answer because I knew where this was going.
“You said you would give anything to see your mother again.”
“And now she’s here, but this isn’t about her. It’s about my father, a.k.a. the man who knew I was part vampyre and didn’t warn me; the man who could have helped me through all of this, but abandoned us instead.” Heat stung my cheeks and I looked away. I was just a child when Dad left.
Jesu drew a deep breath. “Ema, finding your parents in Apollyon’s lair was an absolute coincidence, and their time here is temporary. No human is allowed to reconnect with their past once they turn. Brinnon should have called the R.E.D. immediately. He probably would have if he had not been distracted by his father’s death, but do not let yourself believe the task isn’t somewhere on his to-do list.”
“I know that, Jesu. I already talked to Brinnon about them going home.” Jesu studied me a moment. He looked like he wanted to ask questions, so I lifted my hand, palm forward to stop him. “Before we get any further off topic, Lilith was at the battle in Escudo de Veraguas.”
His brow furrowed. “I noticed.”
“Great,” I nodded. “So is she your aunt?”
He chuckled. “Lilith? Are you serious?”
“Well, Bridget seemed pretty serious. She said Apollyon called Lilith his sister.”
Tension feathered along Jesu’s jaw. “Bridget said that?” His gaze turned thoughtful. After a moment, he shook his head. “I have never known my father to have family.”
“But it’s not impossible. Apollyon was thousands of years old before he met your mother. He at least had parents at some point. A sibling would be—”
“Probable,” Jesu whispered. He wet his lips and his chest expanded in a deep breath. “I cannot deny the possibility, but even so, Lilith is a succubus. She would be his half-sister, assuming it is even true. According to legend, the first succubus was a Nephilim-vampyre hybrid.”
“So they shared a Nephilim parent.”
“Assuming there is any truth to it.” Jesu rubbed his jaw and sighed. “Father was gathering his old allies before—the Saga-giga, Victor, Naamah and Maria. He even reached out to Jalmari. It makes sense that he would call on any siblings, too.”
