by Lizzy Ford
Everything has to be destroyed, even his desk.
“That’s the Book of Secrets?” Ben remains at the door.
My focus shifts to the massive tome on the desk. I reach for it. “Yep. This is it. One part instructions, five parts lies.” I rest a hand on it, hating what it stands for. “It claims the candidate to be exiled is secretly working against the Community. Couldn’t be farther from the truth.”
“How else could I assure the existence of the curse?” Erish asks quietly from beside me. It’s the first time he’s spoken to me in two days.
“I know why you did it,” I reply and then twist my head over my shoulder. “Ben, if this is a vampire amulet, who has the Kingmaker amulet?”
“Myca’s father is the only one with magic old enough to handle it for any period of time. Myca will bring it by tonight.”
My fingers tremble at the mention of Myca, and I clench my hands into fists and force myself to breathe deeply. Circling the desk, I pull out the trunk of curse charms and the Exile knife. I set them both on the desk and survey the mess before me.
“The Book of Secrets will help you save Myca,” Erish whispers. “Just check it. Once. I’ll even tell you the page number.”
His words make my stomach twist. Instead of looking at him, I meet Ben’s gaze. Even with the room between us, he somehow manages to steady me. His confidence and self-control make me want to try harder, to be more deserving of his faith, to be more like him. I can’t remember ever admiring someone the way I do Ben.
“Erish is bothering you,” Ben guesses.
I nod.
“He doesn’t know everything,” Erish adds. “No one knows what I do about the curse. One peek. That’s it.”
Even though he can’t hear Erish, Ben knows. “You have a plan. You can do this,” he says gently.
Clearing my throat, I ignore the Book of Secrets. It takes effort, though, because I really want to look. Thinking of Myca kills me, and I’d do almost anything for him to be spared. But I can’t – I won’t – risk the lives of all of them by caving to Erish. If Erish hadn’t seized control of me this week and terrified me doing so, I’d probably have listened to him at some point. He’d be running my body by now.
Without Ben, we’d all be goners. Ben’s presence, and knowing everything he’s done to give me this chance, solidifies my resolve.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I tell Ben. It’s the truth, and it’s much easier to say than I thought.
“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” Ben replies. “What do you need from me?”
I start to smile at the image in my head, of him naked.
“We’ll have a chance for that,” he says with a wink.
I laugh, delighted by the fact he can’t read my mind but knows what I’m thinking anyway. Gazing around me, I take in everything and try to imagine how I’d destroy it all in the fifty one minutes I have during the eclipse.
“Ten gallons of gas, a few matches and a sledgehammer,” I decide.
He calls someone.
“You planning on burning yourself to death?” Erish asks.
My eyes go to the knife, and I’m nauseated by the thought of how tonight must end. I may have jumped off a building drunk, taken drugs and done other stupid shit, but I can’t imagine burning alive or stabbing myself. Drugs might be a good way to go, but something tells me Ben isn’t going to pay for them, and I’m broke.
Ben is in the hallway outside the study, talking to someone. My gaze lingers on him, and I debate how I’m going to ask him to stab me, since I don’t have the guts to do it myself.
Erish shifts nearby, and I glance at him then back.
He’s darker and almost looks solid.
“You’re … changing?” I ask, frowning.
“I’m supposed to be at my strongest today,” he replies. “The others will be able to see me soon.”
“Yeah, that won’t freak them out.” I say sarcastically and shiver. “Why aren’t you trying to attack me today?”
“Saving my strength.”
“Erish … why? Why can’t you just let this all go?” I know the question is foolish to ask. “I can’t understand why you want this hell to continue. Why you want to see me in the same pain you were in when you lost your lover and why you want to exist at all if you’re in a constant state of suffering!”
“Suffering becomes a natural state after a while.”
Why do I bother?
I want to believe in the ability for someone to change. It matters to me. I’m the last Kingmaker, the one destined to redeem my family after two thousand years. If I’m going to die, I want to go out knowing the Kingmaker who started this mess regrets all that’s happened.
I don’t see that happening with Erish.
“Nate’s going to bring everything with him tonight,” Ben reports and enters the study once more.
I nod and leave the area behind the desk. The one bookshelf I never finished unloading catches my eye, and I cross to it.
Ben joins me wordlessly. I reach for a book. He wraps his arms around me. I stop. Sighing, I rest back against his hard frame.
“You can do this,” he whispers in my ear. “Trust me.”
“I do,” I reply. “More than anyone I’ve ever met.” It surprises me, too. “It’s easy to be with you, Ben, but that also confuses the hell out of me.”
“When something is right, it’s right,” he says. “You don’t need magic or a Book of Secrets or a ghost to tell you. Trust yourself, Leslie.”
I close my eyes and allow myself a moment away from my anxiety and fear. Ben is solid and warm at my back, the only part of the past few weeks that feels real. I love being in his arms, his quiet command of the confusing world around me and his unfaltering confidence. And … his body. I want to survive the curse just so I can strip off his clothes and touch him everywhere! If I didn’t have sufficient motivation before, I do now.
Twisting in his arms, I lift my face to his and kiss him hard and deep. The alpha sweeps me up in his intensity, and I let go of my worries, focusing instead on his flavor and the hardness of his body.
He kisses me breathless and then lowers his head to my neck and breathes me in. I love it when he does this. It’s a sign he can’t get enough of me, either.
“Business first,” he says gruffly. I can hear the need in his voice. “When we get home, I plan on bending you over the back of the couch and teasing that pussy of yours until you’re begging to feel my dick inside you.”
I laugh giddily at the low, possessive growl. I want the vision in my head to come true. When I’m in his arms, it seems possible. “Okay,” I murmur. “Business first.” Reluctantly, I withdraw from his embrace. “You’ve been with me barely a week. You don’t mind me moving in?” I tease.
“No. Never.” The depth of warmth in his gaze catches me off guard, despite knowing what we’re supposed to be.
I hug him hard once more, my emotions a jumbled mess. Fear is at the top of the list, though it’s a different kind of fear that wasn’t present at the beginning of this week. I’m terrified of losing the man before me, of placing his life in danger tonight.
No matter what happens today, I have to save him and the others from the curse.
He nuzzles my neck. “My sweet Leslie. You can do this.”
I draw a deep breath and nod, shifting out of his grip. “I can,” I agree with a fraction of his confidence. “I figured if everything was stacked in the middle, it’d burn faster.”
Ben begins to help me create stacks out of the remaining books. We then move the wooden shelves themselves away from the wall, partially to ensure there’s nothing trapped behind them that could undermine my plan. We find a couple errant books hiding out behind the shelves and toss them into piles.
We take a break around two in the afternoon then search the house for anything that belonged to my father that might be linked to the curse. I collect every pen he might’ve used to write my letters, while Ben brings his clo
thing and few personal affects to the study to toss onto the piles of books. Neither of us really thinks my father’s clothing is key to this thing, but I’m not taking any chances.
I can’t let myself mourn my father today. Unable to accept he was gone, I wasn’t able to pack up his clothing or room before, and seeing his favorite blazer almost undoes me.
Turning away, I return to my father’s desk and empty it out next. Nothing in it is of interest to me, until I find the picture of my mother I placed there during my first week of the trials.
It really does her no justice whatsoever. The image in my mind, revived by Myca, is so much richer in detail and color. But there’s something about being able to touch the picture that makes it difficult for me to add it to the piles.
I don’t hear Ben’s silent approach, but I register his body heat a second before I feel his frame at my back. He always knows when I’m hurting more than usual. He wraps an arm around me, and I lean back instinctively.
“It’s my mother,” I murmur and show him the picture.
“Good looks run in the family.”
“Whatever. I have the Kingmaker curse and nose,” I say and roll my eyes.
“You’re beautiful.” He squeezes me lightly. “Keep it. If the curse doesn’t break, we’ll burn it then.”
He understands without me saying a word about what’s in my head. It’s uncanny how much he can pick up with his instincts. “Thanks,” I whisper. I tuck the picture in my pocket.
“I’ll grab us some water.” Ben kisses me on the temple before moving away.
Reaching for the Book of Secrets, I pause.
I never noticed how it feels before. There’s something ominous, troubled and dark in its aura. Not evil but …
“Sorrow,” Erish supplies. Oddly quiet today, given it’s supposed to be the day of his victory, he’s been hovering near me without interfering in anything I’m doing. “It’s the heart of the curse. The original Book of Secrets was accidentally destroyed in a fire about five hundred years ago, but the words this version contains remember the pain of those who came before you.”
He’s not capable of kindness, but the quite note is back in his tone.
“Why haven’t I noticed it before?” I ask. I rest my hand on the Book, comforted by our shared misery and also pitying my predecessors. Traces of everyone ever tormented by the trials are under my hand, including some tiny piece of my father.
“It’s stronger today, like me.”
I glance at him. Ben is in the kitchen. Erish isn’t trying to grab me, though, and I start to wonder if being near Ben has been wearing him down or if his attempt the other day was all he had to give. I’ll never give him the credit of trying to do the right thing.
“Or maybe it mourns for what it knows is coming,” Erish adds.
“It’s not alive. Is it?”
He shrugs. “Everything the curse touches is linked. We share energy, so why not?” he sounds pensive. “You need the original curse charm.”
Here we go again. A moment where we almost connect, and he starts his bullshit. “I’m not listening to anything you tell me.”
“When your attempt to break the curse fails, you’ll be the reason everyone else suffers.”
I freeze. It’s my deepest fear, and he’s so good at plucking that string.
“Think about it. How many curse charms are there?” he asks.
I answer in my head.
“Exactly. So one’s missing.”
“Missing?” I face him, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Twelve curse charms is all we need. Ten clans, plus the Kingmaker’s with the double shadows, and a twelfth one. If anything, there’s an extra charm.”
“The Kingmaker clan was made from the combining of two others,” he reminds me. “Angels and demons joined to form a third clan, the Kingmaker’s. We need thirteen charms.”
I listen. I’m not fully convinced yet unable to call bullshit when what he says makes sense. I hate it when he does this.
Ben returns, and I hesitate, uncertain if I should tell him about this or not.
“Erish says we’re missing a curse charm,” I say after a pause.
Ben’s silver gaze flickers to the shadow that’s becoming less transparent by the hour. “What’s his motivation for revealing this information?”
I give Erish a pointed look.
“Do you want to know where it is or not?” Erish snaps.
“He won’t say,” I tell Ben.
“If he’s bluffing, we’ll know quickly.” Ben sets my water before me. “If it’s here, let’s find it.”
“You heard the alpha,” I tell the ghost.
“It’s in the Book of Secrets,” Erish replies.
“Really? Is this your latest ploy to get me to –”
“Then leave it there!” he snarls.
I sigh and glance at the Book of Secrets then pick it up. Gripping the stiff covers, I shake it out. The letters I’ve collected during the trials fall out. “Figures,” I mutter. “He was …”
Clunk. A small piece of dark metal or coal lands on the desk. I set the heavy tome down and pluck up the object. It looks like nothing more than a chunk of metal and contains no magic trace, possibly because it’s from an extinct clan.
“Why would you tell me?” I ask.
Erish is gone.
I had no idea a shadow could be so moody. I drop the metal into the trunk with the other charms.
Feeling Ben’s intent gaze, I lift my eyes. Whatever he’s thinking, he doesn’t speak and instead gives me one of his half-smiles.
“It’s almost sunset. The other clan leaders will be arriving soon,” he says. “Myca will have them all gather out back.”
I glance at the clock. We have another four hours until the eclipse. My palms are sweaty, my nerves shaky. “Does everyone have to be here?” I ask.
“Yeah. They need to witness this.”
I trust his judgment without really agreeing. If I had this my way, I wouldn’t attempt to break the curse in front of everyone of influence in the Community in case I fail. I guess they deserve to know firsthand their suffering is over. Or maybe they want to confirm the last Kingmaker is really dead before going about their lives. It might be selfish, but I don’t really want to be surrounded by people who hate me in my final moments.
Fiddling with the bandage on my injured arm, I’m lost in thought until Ben speaks.
“How’s it feeling?” he asks.
“Fine,” I reply with a shrug. “Doesn’t hurt at all.”
He crosses to me and takes my wrist. I watch him unwrap my arm, not looking forward to the bloodied, stitched mess. I’m done with having my ass kicked by the trials.
“I thought so,” he says softly and studies my arm.
I stare.
My arm is healed. The scars are additions to the rest of the markings on my body. “Is that … mating magic? Something you did?” I ask, puzzled.
His eyes glow. “Nate and Jason said you healed far faster than you should have after Jenny’s attack. I saw the amount of blood left over from what she did to you. You shouldn’t have survived.”
“Erish probably did something.”
“He can defend you but not heal you.”
I shrug. “So I heal fast.”
“You never should’ve survived what Tristan’s people did to you, either,” Ben continues. “And the fact you were able to breathe underground as long as you did when the vampire council buried you is miraculous.”
It dawns on me what he’s saying. “I healed Tristan’s fae babies,” I add, studying the wounds. “This is my secondary Kingmaker magic, isn’t it? I’ve been waiting for it to appear. I assumed it was the ability to destroy the lives of anyone who got near me.” I sigh. “I wanted it to be something really cool, like flying.”
“This is better.” Ben tips my chin up. “Healing is angel magic.”
“Angel magic.” My eyebrows go up. “Dude, I’m as far from an angel as it gets.”
�
��Or maybe the Kingmaker’s have found themselves again after being lost for so long. Half angel, half demon, your clan has the ability to become evil or good. You may be the first good Kingmaker in twenty generations.”
Why do his words make my heart somersault and my eyes water?
“The Community has been dying slowly without angel magic.”
When Ben looks at me like this, I want to be whatever he believes me to be, however skeptical I am. “You think I can fix it? Save more of Tristan’s people and stop the infertility problems of the vampires and werewolves?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“That’s crazy, Ben.”
“We’ll see, won’t we?”
He hasn’t been wrong yet, but after living under a curse my entire life, I can’t quite accept the idea I might have a positive impact on the Community.
But it’s a nice thought. A very, very nice thought. I want it to be true, just like I want there to be a tomorrow with Ben.
I rub the new scars on my arm.
Hope hurts worse than anything else.
“We have to finish up,” I murmur and move away from him, disturbed.
We finish gathering my father’s belongings in silence. Nate brings the gasoline by, and I set the curse charms on the kitchen counter so they don’t get wet before Ben and I dump the contents of the five-gallon jugs all over the study. I splash it into the hallway, past the kitchen, through the laundry room and down the stairs into the backyard, which is lit by a small bonfire Ben started. I carefully end the trail before bonfire and set the gasoline down then look up.
It’s silent enough that I’m startled to see the people gathered in my teeny, tiny backyard. I don’t know most of them, and I can identify some by their features. The zombie clan leader’s white hair gives him away, as does the slender form of the wraith leader.
They’re all staring at me hard enough that I don’t stick around to introduce myself. I’m pretty sure they all know a Kingmaker when they see one, and I’m not about to stay here and listen to them tell me how my family has fucked up their lives for the past two thousand years.
