Crumbling Control (Helena Hawthorn Series Book 3)

by May Freighter

  “Thanks.”

  When he was gone, she rinsed her mouth and washed her face with the warm water from the brass tap. Helena looked at her trembling hands. How long do I have to pretend to be strong?

  Michael materialised behind her. She felt his presence tickling her spine, so she faced him. “What is it?”

  “I could lock your nightmares away for you.”

  Helena’s eyes narrowed. His words switched on her irritation once more. “What the demon said, about my father, was it true?”

  Even though she studied his face intently, nothing changed. Not a single emotion passed through the perfectly sculpted mask he wore—a mask she wished she could tear apart.

  “Michael, you have to tell me.”

  “I was not present at the time, so I cannot say.”

  Helena gripped the sink behind her with both hands. “He said you guided my father to him and sealed my memories.” Her voice cracked and raw pain came pouring out with her next question. “Did you have something to do with it?”

  He took away the space she craved with a single step. She didn’t know what to expect. Did she want him to acknowledge his guilt or deny his involvement? Would it soothe the pain and loss that cut away pieces of her soul as the days went by?

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  Questioning her hearing, she tilted her head to one side. “Yes? Yes to what? The memories or—”

  “Yes to both.”

  Her heart stopped for a beat. The words crashed into her like an oncoming car. No matter what, her brain struggled to accept the information. Michael couldn’t be the one behind such heinous acts. He had been with her since she moved to Ireland… But, the fact that he was part of her life in Russia changed everything.

  “You’ve lied to me…” the words rolled off her tongue.

  “I had to. It was in your best interest.”

  She scoffed. “Right. Lying is always the best way to solve everything.”

  “If you hadn’t discovered that grimoire, you would remain blissfully unaware of the darkness. Your life would be filled with joy and love instead of the memories that hurt you… Perhaps fate is stronger than the choices we make…”

  Wrapping her arms around her waist, she wished for warmth. The bathroom suddenly felt a lot colder. “And what about what I want? Does that even matter? Did you ever think that I would want to keep the memories you’ve taken from me? Did you stop to consider how it would feel to be shown by a demon that I am a killer?”

  “Do not listen to his ramblings. The demon was after your soul and nothing more,” Michael replied.

  Helena raised a brow. “My soul or the other one inside me?”

  Michael’s left eye twitched. He bowed his head low enough, so she could no longer see his face. “I must leave. Call me if you need me.”

  “I need you now, Michael.” He disappeared, and she shouted into thin air, “Stop running away!”

  To further fuel her annoyance, no response came. She ran her hands over her face and screamed into her palms. Was he always such a pain in the ass?

  In the bedroom, she changed into the clothes Perri had left on the side of the bed for her and eyed her bag. The relic Cullodena had given her would show whoever she wished to see and there was only one man on her mind.

  Rummaging through the bag, she finally found the box. She didn’t get a chance to use the relic. The bedroom door opened, and Perri came in with a smile brighter than the sun.

  “Good morning, Helena.”

  Putting the box back, Helena sighed. “Morning.”

  “Did you sleep well?” Perri assessed her and pouted. “Dark circles don’t suit you. If you have trouble sleeping, I could make you some chamomile tea to calm the nerves.”

  “This is beyond herbal teas,” Helena mumbled.

  Perri took Helena’s hand into hers. Her eyes bulged a little. “You are cold. Do you want another t-shirt? I have a few to spare…”

  Helena glanced at her hand. She had to agree, she felt colder and the weather seemed to play no part in it. “I’m alright. Thanks. Where is Vincent?”

  “Master Vincent is in the dining room. He’s waiting for you to join him for breakfast. The other guests have already arrived.”

  “Isn’t he going to drink wine as usual?” Helena asked with humour returning to her.

  Perri gasped in mock horror. “Don’t be daft! I believe it is primarily coffee in the morning.”

  “Good to know.” Helena laughed.

  She tried her best to listen and contribute to Perri’s excited banter as they ventured down the long corridors and winding stairs. At the back of her mind, Michael’s words bothered her. She fought to remember everything Lazarus had said that day, yet much of it seemed to be nothing but a blur. The more she thought, the more vivid the image of Maya’s sad expression became.

  There has to be a way to make her human again.

  “Mind the door,” Perri warned as Helena’s head collided with the obstacle. She rubbed her aching forehead.

  Perri stifled a smile. “I did try to warn you…”

  “It could be worse. I could have walked off a building,” Helena grumbled into her palm.

  “Exactly. Thank heavens Master Vincent likes indoors during the day.”

  Trying not to roll her eyes, Helena entered the dining room. It was as she remembered: lavish furniture, beautiful paintings of ancient battles along the walls and a grand oak table long enough to fit two dozen guests. Sunlight had been kept at bay by the drawn, thick green curtains. The lights from the small chandeliers above their heads and the lamps lining the walls brought a warm atmosphere to the room.

  “I’m glad you have come to join us.” Vincent rose from his seat. He motioned to the chair next to him, at the head of the table, and Helena made her way there with purposeful strides.

  Andrew and Orlaith were already seated. For some reason, the PA seemed paler than yesterday. Helena dismissed it. The girl probably spent most of her night on the phone dealing with hotel cancellations and luggage.

  “Good morning, Vincent,” Helena greeted as she took her seat.

  The Councilman’s silver hair was pulled back behind his ears and brushed the navy material of his bespoke suit jacket. He straightened his sleeves, concealing the exposed ends of his white shirt.

  “I hope the journey here did not tire you too much,” Vincent said in a deep baritone.

  Helena found Andrew sipping his coffee out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t think to ask him how he felt about staying there. “The journey was fine. I’m sure that’s not why you ordered me to come here, though.”

  Vincent’s pale blue eyes met hers, and she tensed. “Have a meal before we commence discussions regarding my…problem.”

  Taken aback, Helena shot Andrew a questioning look which he returned with one of confusion. What kind of problem could a member of the Vampire Council face that she could help with? Dread hardened her stomach, turning it into an immovable rock. She rubbed her hand on the affected area in an attempt to remove the sensation.

  “Rupert, please bring the ladies their meals,” Vincent’s powerful voice reverberated throughout the room.

  The old butler emerged through the double doors, wheeling a food trolley in front of him. He stopped next to Orlaith and placed a rectangular plate with a full English breakfast on it. The PA stared at the food with hunger in her eyes. To seemingly look prim and proper in front of Andrew, she lifted dainty amounts of food into her mouth with her fork.

  Helena shook her head as the food was placed before her.

  “Please, enjoy your meal,” Vincent said with a genuine smile.

  Taking his advice, Helena dug in, shovelling mouthfuls of food into her. Although the sick feeling at the pit of her stomach didn’t dissipate as she had hoped, it lessened once her stomach had something to work on and wasn’t trying to eat itself. Halfway through her meal, she found Andrew watching her with amusement. She stopped chewing and glared at him, which made his
smile inflate.

  “Is the food to your liking?” Vincent asked.

  Helena swallowed. “It’s great. Please pass my compliments to Terry. Her cooking has gotten better since my last visit.”

  Rupert chuckled in the corner of the room. “The meal was prepared by Perri. She was excited about your visit.”

  “Oh…I’ll compliment her myself then.”

  The butler inclined his head and folded his hands behind his back.

  Once Orlaith finished picking at her meal, Rupert took the plates away, and Vincent rested his elbows on the table. The warmth from earlier faded as his expression became serious.

  “The matter I wish to discuss is related to the dark ones or ‘demons’ as some would call them. I know you and Lucious have been recently involved with them, or am I mistaken?” Vincent asked.

  Lying to Vincent was pointless. Helena opted for the truth. “There was a demon after me, yes.”

  “Did you slay him?”

  She noted excitement in his voice which Helena found to be surprising. Taking a sip of her orange juice, she cringed at the memory of ‘slaying’ Lazarus. A time she would pay to have erased from her mind. She snorted inwardly at the thought since she fought with Michael earlier to stop him from taking her memory away.

  “I wouldn’t call it slaying, more like incapacitating,” Helena explained.

  Vincent sat back in his seat. He rubbed his chin with his index finger in thought. “Do you have the weapon in your possession?”

  “What is this about? Do you have a demon after someone here?” Helena set her drink on the table with more force than she wanted to use. The drink splashed her hand and, when Rupert moved away from the corner, she lifted her hand. Her full attention was back on Vincent. “What’s going on?”

  The Councilman glanced at Rupert. After a barely visible incline of his head, the butler left the room and closed the double doors behind him. Vincent then looked at Orlaith, and the girl’s eyes widened.

  “Do you want me to leave, sir?” Orlaith asked in a wavering voice.

  “Please,” Vincent said softly.

  Orlaith spared one last glance at Andrew. She rose from her seat with a bow of her head and scurried out of the room.

  Vincent intertwined his fingers on the table. “I cannot be certain of this, but I fear for the future of Europe. The hunters are gathering in great numbers in London, and the witches have turned away from us. Their magic used to hide the Council building from the hunters. Now, with that spell broken by the opening of the Demon Gate, we are exposed more than ever before.”

  “Isn’t the Council strong enough to beat the hunters?” Helena asked.

  A sad smile thinned out Vincent’s lips. “Too many of our hounds are outside the country. We have sent out an order to recall them, of course. Most will not be able to abandon their tasks for another week or two.”

  “If the Council is helpless against the hunters, what will happen to everyone?” Andrew asked.

  “That, young man, is why I am asking Helena such questions. My sire’s interest in the dark realm has turned into an obsession. She believes she found a way to save us, but I cannot be certain of what that way is exactly.”

  Helena folded her shaking hands in her lap. A bad feeling stirred nausea she struggled to keep down. “Is she planning to use demons?”

  Vincent’s sorrowful eyes found hers. In that instant, she knew her fears were proven right. “That may be the case, yes.”

  The rest of the afternoon Helena spent in the library, flipping through the old tomes she had once handled. Their weight brought back the suffocating terror of what may happen if Eliza does want to release demons into their realm.

  “I can’t believe he wants you to go through that again,” Andrew snapped and dropped a tall tower of books on the table in front of her.

  “Vincent isn’t the type to ask for favours.” Helena settled the tome on her lap and opened it. Her eyes scanned the pages for anything that could be useful.

  Andrew’s cool hand brushed her cheek. He knelt by her side. “I worry about you, Thorn.” His gem-like eyes reflected the worry she wished to wipe away. He was a friend she was fortunate to have, one she was afraid to lose to the crazy events that came at her one after another.

  Her arms folded around his neck, and she clung to him like a child would to a mother. The light from the fireplace and the table lamp illuminated the library’s expanse—a world of knowledge she feared to explore. That fear retreated when the thought of losing those she loved rekindled.

  “I can’t lose you,” her words were absorbed into the material of his shirt. “After Laura’s parents… Their death is on me. I should—”

  “Stop this.” Andrew captured her face between his palms. “Look at me.”

  She frowned, unable to fathom what he was talking about.

  “I mean, really look at me. I’m already dead. There is no changing that.”

  “But you’re still you.”

  “No, I died and became this thing. I can hear heartbeats of every human in this house. I lust for the blood beneath the surface of their skin. My throat constricts every time I am next to you, and I have to fight to not take a bite as I have done in the past.” His hands slipped away, and he diverted his gaze to the ground. “Every time our eyes meet, I can see your regrets, your worry that I might blame you. And, at first, I had. When my teeth sank into your neck, I wanted to kill myself and blame others for my mistakes.”

  “I never meant for this to happen, Andrew. I wanted you to live.”

  “I don’t blame you now. It gave me another chance to be with you.” Slowly, he rose to his full height and smiled at her. “So, stop trying to get rid of me. I make a great meat shield.” He winked.

  Helena couldn’t stop her laughter. “Only you would refer to yourself as that.”

  “There, I made you smile. Looks like my good-deed-a-day mission is done.”

  “I’ll give you a golden star once we go through some of these dusty books.”

  Andrew pouted and returned to work. As she read through the yellowed pages, she felt lighter. He knew exactly how to bring her joy in the toughest times.

  Throughout the day, she stole glances at him. He had rolled up the sleeves of his light-blue shirt to his elbows. His long fingers stroked the pages as he read the lines, and Helena contemplated what it would be like to fall in love with him. Andrew always had the girls in the school asking him out. They would bow their heads in shame as he rejected them and that was that. She never paid more heed to it than was necessary. Thinking about it now, he did have the good looks most would kill for and a warm heart others envied. Any woman would be lucky to have him as her partner.

  “If I am hot, please tell me. I’ll even take my shirt off as fan service,” Andrew said with a cocky smirk.

  Helena blinked. She was staring at him all along. “God, I’m so sorry. I was—”

  “Daydreaming about me? It’s alright, many do.”

  Helena reached across the table to try to smack his shoulder. He caught her wrist and pulled her to him. Her elbow knocked a stack of books onto the carpet with a thud. Nose to nose, they stared at one another. Her breath caught in her throat as his chilled lips found hers.

  At first, her mind turned blank, but as his soft lips gently urged hers to open. She covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes narrowed on her wrist, his fingers trapping it.

  “Andrew…” she mumbled into her hand and moved it away. “This isn’t right.”

  He rolled his eyes and, in a blink of an eye, towered over her. “Forget about my asshole sire, Helena. He’s not worth it.”

  “How would you know that?” She climbed back into her seat, suddenly having an urge to defend Lucious.

  “Has he called you?”

  Helena scowled at him. “No…”

  “And he won’t. Forget worrying about him. He’s fine. Alexander in America knows he is fine, so how come you’re the only person who doesn’t know about it?”


  If there ever was a time when she felt like her body was splashed with cold water, this was it. Helena saw the truth in Andrew’s words—truth that shaped his words into daggers and landed them between her ribs.

  Her mind tried to rationalise it. Every excuse it invented seemed irrelevant. There was no reason Lucious couldn’t see her if he was perfectly fine. Is he avoiding me?

  “Do you know where he is?” she asked.

  Andrew stared at her in disbelief. “You have less than two weeks left before you have to go to America and you’re thinking about him?”

  She grasped his hand and squeezed it. “Andrew, please. I need to know.”

  His shoulders sank as he blew out a defeated sigh. “He’s in London.”

  Her heart deflated. Of course, he went to see Anna. She was his sire and Helena… Her hands folded into fists. Their relationship had never been decided. She had thought they were together when the truth was, they were anything but. Lucious could be dating women on the side, and she wouldn’t be the wiser. She snorted inwardly. Alexander and the rest of the world would know before I did, that’s for sure.

  “Aren’t you going to find him?” Andrew asked, irritation seeping into his voice.

  She reclined in her chair and selected a book off the top of the stack. “Why would I?”

  His brows knotted together as he retook the seat opposite her without another word.

  “I hate him!” Helena slurred and swayed on the bed in Perri’s room.

  The maid had tried to pry the bottle of liquor Helena had commandeered from the kitchen while Vincent left to deal with some business with the werewolves. The knowledge that werewolves existed seemed unsurprising to her when she saw a living pixie only a few weeks ago.

  “Helena, I could get you some tea. Maybe that would—”

  Cutting her off with a wobbly hand gesture, Helena knocked back the bottle and swallowed the alcohol, some of which escaped through the sides of her mouth. The initial burn of the old liquor vanished after four…ten mouthfuls? She wasn’t certain. The world around her wouldn’t stop moving. She felt like she was in the submarine, watching the ocean floor swimming by. The only point of focus was Perri, and she, too, seemed to have grown another head.