“Why did you come back?” I ask. “You didn’t have to do that but you did.”
Everett tips his head back and peers up at me.
“You were right,” he finally says. “Evaline, the rest of them, I mean nothing to them. They don’t care about me. I was just their inside man.” His eyes water but he closes them before the tears spill over. Pushing one of my fingers into his hair, I pull him closer. His arms snake around my waist and he buries his face in my neck. His shoulders tremble.
“No one has ever really cared—not like you did,” he whispers into my chest. “I just . . . sometimes, I thought you’d love me anyway if you knew but other times . . . how could you love me when not even my own family does? It just . . . It made more sense to attempt to earn their love than to believe in yours, even though I loved you.”
I close my eyes and squeeze him. “If you’d just come to me . . . ” I shake my head. It doesn’t matter anymore. “Everything is going to be okay, Everett. When all is said and done, you’ll be able to choose the life you want. ”
He will be free to decide for himself what he does with his life.
“I just want to paint; I just want the life I could have had if this had been . . . real.”
He wants a simple life, filled with simple pleasures.
That isn’t much to ask for. I can’t find any fault in his desires.
I want much the same thing.
“It isn’t too late for that, Everett. You are still young—” He is only twenty-one. “There are still plenty of years ahead of you.”
He laughs, an almost mocking sound. I frown, looking down at him. He shakes his head.
“Not if Evaline has her way,” he tells me. I squeeze him, offering what little comfort I can.
“I won’t let her harm you, Everett.”
Our marriage may have never been valid, but I meant my vows—the promises I uttered when our hands were bound together—when I said them.
“With the rings, we unite our hearts in tenderness and devotion,” I whisper, pressing my face into Everett’s hair. “We will honor each other’s cultures as we join customs to form a trusting relationship. We will protect, support and encourage each other through life’s joys and sorrows as we create a loving future.”
Everett begins to whisper as well, his breath hot against my chest, “We promise to establish a home for ourselves and our children, shaped by our respective heritages; a loving environment dedicated to peace, hope and respect for all people.”
Everett’s fingers dig into my back and I press my knee between his legs.
“From this day forward our lives will be intertwined forever, blessed in faith, filled with compassion, understanding and love.” We finish together.
I will honor my vows—somehow, someway—as I intended from the beginning.
39
My back rests against the headboard. Between Everett and I sits a tray of food. Since we both agreed on a simple breakfast, we skipped pancakes and settled on mostly fruit and other cold foods such as yogurt, cheese and ham.
The pair of us silently eat.
“Can I ask you something?” I question. “Other than what I just did.” Everett pauses with a piece of ham and cheese almost to his lips.
“Sure,” he replies; there is uneasiness in his expression.
“Did you . . . want me the first time we—”
“Yes,” he interrupts before I can finish my thought. “I never lied about that. I . . . I’ve omitted truths but I’ve never . . . lied. I’ve kept secrets but I tried to be honest.” He sighed. “I got lost somewhere along the way—confused. I know I was wrong, Thanos.”
I sigh, reaching out and pushing a strand of hair behind his ear.
He was wrong. He knows it. I can’t crucify him when he’s clearly already punishing himself.
“Some of the conversations we shared—” Pulling away, I look down at my hand. “I can’t know what is true or not in them. I don’t know when you were being yourself or . . . playing your role.” I will really never know. Any single detail I believed in could be a lie.
Everett grasps my hand and I glance up. “I realized early on I was falling for you,” he admits, his cheeks darkening. “After you came for me in the forest, I stopped fighting it. You became real. The life we were building became my reality and Evaline . . . she was the game.”
I open my mouth but he rushes ahead to say, “But none of it was a game. I know that.”
No, it was a game. It was our life and because he couldn’t believe in me, in our relationship, it was all blown to hell. As much as I wanted to blame him, he wasn’t the only one at fault.
“Did you ever try to tell Evaline you didn’t want what she desired?” Everett looks down, picks up a grape and rolls it between his index finger and thumb.
“She would have killed me,” he mumbles. “She would have framed you for the murder. She discussed the possibility with Oliver before. I didn’t want to die.” No one wants to die. If he was threatened with doing as he was bid or dying . . . the choice was obvious.
He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.
“I wish you had known you could talk to me; you could have trusted me,” I spoke.
Everett closes his eyes and exhales. “I am a fool.”
“Everything is going to be o—”
A pounding on the other side of the bedroom door rocks the wood. “Thanos!”
Springing from the mattress, I rush to the door and yank it open. Mason pants on the other side as his wide eyes dance with apprehension.
“What?” I demand.
“Susan is at the gate,” he wheezes.
Everett gasps. “Mom?
“She is demanding an audience,” Mason explains.
Why is Susan here? What can she possibly expect to come out of demanding an audience?
Is it a good idea to see her considering the tension between our respective families right now?
“Thanos . . . please.” Everett curls his fingers around my wrist. I glance back to him.
“Who is with her?” I question, turning from the door and beginning to dress.
“Her daughters— except Evaline, of course. They look . . . tired.” Mason steps back as I exit the room while pulling my shirt on.
“Stay here,” I order Everett. “Watch him, Mason.”
“No!” they cry together. I understand Everett’s reaction since it is his mother at the gate but what need does Mason have to object to playing babysitter? He has watched Everett a multitude of times since he was released from his cell below the stables.
“I’m coming,” Mason says.
“Me, too. Please.” Everett curls his trembling fingers together as he peers up at me with wet eyes. Susan is his mother. If it was my mother at the gate—even if she was a terrible mother—I’d move Heaven and Earth to see her.
“You stay with Mason the whole time,” I order. “I won’t be forgiving if you make me regret this, Everett.” I would cast him, his mother and his siblings into a hole they would never climb from if any of them did anything underhanded.
“Give us a moment, Mason,” Everett requests. Mason looks between Everett and I. Giving a nod, I assure him it is okay and he leaves. Grabbing my forearms, Everett’s neon gaze bores into mine. “You have no reason to trust or believe me but I swear to you, Athanasios, come what may, I stand with your family.”
Sighing, I push my fingers into his hair. “Our family; if you thought of them as our family, your family, betrayal would be out of the question.”
Or it would have been something he’d think twice about doing.
“Our family,” he agrees, his fingers sliding to my wrist. Closing his eyes, he leans into my palm. Leaning forward, I press a chaste kiss to his forehead before grabbing his hand and pulling him from the room.
Everyone is gathered in the front hall, waiting on us, I presume, as we come down the stairs.
“Everett will accompany me to the gate,” I announce. There are
mumbles of disagreements. “Duke, I want you to take Lilith, Sophia, Mother and Father to the library.” It is the most fortified room in the house. They will be safest there. “Mason—” I look to my younger brother. His jaw is set. He is ready for an argument if necessary. “—you’ll be with me.”
“Thanos,” Mother says, her fingers ghosting across my jaw. I offer her a smile.
“It will be all right, Mother,” I assure her with a smile. She nods; Duke leads the family away as Mason, Everett and I hurry from the house and down the drive.
Beside me, Mason’s hands tremble as he twiddles his thumbs. Every couple of seconds, he yanks on his shirt then shoves his hand into his hair and lays the thick strands against his forehead only for them to spring back into their original position as soon as he removes his fingers. He’s never dealt with this sort of thing so it’s understandable that he is nervous.
“Just follow my lead,” I tell him. He nods and offers a tight smile. We all carry on in silence.
Nearing the end of the drive, Mason starts to walk faster. Susan and her daughters come into view. Surrounded by armed guards, they huddle close together. Everett whimpers, his steps increasing, too, as he takes in their state. They look . . . rough.
“Erian!” Mason shouts, breaking into a run. Shoving a guard aside, he reaches for a young woman I recognize as the fifth Dawson daughter as she stumbles out of the close-knit group and crashes against him with a large sob. “It’s okay,” he mutters, stroking her hair. “I’m here.”
Everyone watches the display with stunned silence.
“I didn’t know, Mason,” she cries. “Oh god, I swear I didn’t know. If I’d known—” she chokes on another sob and he rocks her back in forth, his fingers digging into her shoulders as she buries her head in his chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shh, Erian. It’s not your fault. No one blames you.” Mason’s gaze flicks to me, seeming to ask if I blame her, if I blame everyone in the family or just Everett, Evaline, Oliver, David and the others that have been directly involved.
“None of us knew,” Susan declares before she looks toward me. “If I’d known, I never would have allowed things to progress as they have.”
“How could you not know?” I question. This . . . treachery was happening in her home, among her own family members. Was she blind or just stupid? Maybe she simply did not care.
“I have not concerned myself with pack business in some time. My heart has never beat for war,” she speaks, sounding sincere. “I was under the impression my husband, in his old age, had finally lost his bloodlust. Instead, he simply lost his position and had no means to draw blood anymore. Evaline . . . ” Susan shakes her head and gives a disappointed sigh.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“For my family—” she speaks, gesturing to her daughters, “—what remains of it anyway.” It is something my mother would declare. “For my son—disappointed in him, as I may be.”
Everett bursts into tears and rushes toward his mother. “I’m sorry, Mum.”
Susan sighs, reaching out and laying her hand against Everett’s cheek. His shoulders shake as he stands before his mother, peering at the ground. “I was foolish to think you’d be free of your father’s influence once married. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”
Tossing her arms around Everett’s shoulders, the pair embrace.
I close my eyes and exhale. Susan and her daughters may very well be victims of this new war, too. Turning them away is a death sentence. I cannot do that to Everett’s blood. Mason does not seem as if he will be willing to part with Erian either—not without a fight, anyway.
“Duke will question you all before you’re allowed to stay. The ramifications for any duplicity will be bloody,” I inform them.
40
It is getting harder to avoid an all-out battle. Evaline is making a point of attacking district heads and their families at dinner, during showers, while tucking loved ones into bed and in the middle of the night when they are most vulnerable. The woman sends her men to attack when it is least expected, and somehow, the fools haven’t made much headway.
Thus far, no one else has died, but life in the city is becoming difficult for everyone who calls Necropolis home, especially any and all of my associates. Travel is damn near impossible for anyone I’ve ever had contact with since often their vehicles are ambushed at stop lights for no other reason than to cause disruption.
Official business with other clans—the pixies, elves, and fairies for the most part—is strained because shipments are being sabotaged. They aren’t receiving the goods they have been promised and have stopped sending ones I require in response—as is to be expected.
Evaline has a stranglehold on the city. It feels as if her fingers are around my neck and I am gasping for every breath I take. The woman is proving to be a formidable enemy—more so than her father. Unlike him, she has no problem getting her hands dirty; she even seems to enjoy it. The blood gets her off which means if I don’t get things under control, there will be more.
She needs to be dealt with. I say as much to Father.
“Killing her will put Oliver in power,” he notes.
“Oliver is stupid and weak; the pack won’t respect him.” He can be dealt with quickly. While the pack scrambles to fill the void left by Evaline and Oliver’s death, we can beat them back into submission with minimal casualties on our side. A new alpha will be put in place—someone who will have a vested interest in maintaining peace to avoid conflict in the future.
“Maybe, but he more than makes up for his foolishness and absence of any real power by being vicious. Underestimating him would be a mistake, Thanos,” Father speaks again. I can hear the warning in his voice.
Father is right, of course. Trivializing Oliver’s position will give him an advantage because when he does something nonsensical but barbaric, we won’t see it coming. He might be stupid and weak, but he is dangerous. The mutt has teeth, and he isn’t scared to use them, as he has proven in the past.
If not dealt with carefully, Oliver could become a sizable problem with the ability to draw blood as Evaline does. There is already enough blood to go around; the last thing we need is more of it.
“Did you learn anything from Mrs. Dawson?” I ask Duke after acknowledging my father with a nod. He has made his point. I see the wisdom in his words. There is no need to dwell on the matter.
“She name dropped, gave the location of a few warehouses, safe houses, and other important locations that Evaline could make use of, but she doesn’t know what her daughter or husband is doing. They—” Susan, Emily, Ebony, Enya, Erian and Eleanor, I take it he means, “—are as much in the dark as Everett.”
“And specifically Erian?” I ask.
My younger brother is attached to the twenty-five-year-old bombshell beauty—hopefully for more than her perky breasts. Despite Susan’s protest and my mother’s sour face because her baby boy is growing up to be a sexually active young man, they are sharing a bedroom and have been for the last two days—since October 1st.
Eleanor, who was placed in the room beside them Saturday night, woke up in a foul mood on Sunday morning, and I could only assume it was because she didn’t get as much sleep as she’d have liked, for reasons I refuse to think about because . . . ew.
Sophia had been kind enough to offer to share a room with the youngest Dawson daughter. No one stopped to consider that those two would get up to just as much trouble as Erian and Mason—except Benjamin, who pulled me to the side late Sunday afternoon and awkwardly explained that if I thought it necessary, he could get the ladies proper ‘protection’ to be used during any extracurricular activities they may have wanted to engage in after hours.
After a horrified moment of silence on my part, I nodded my head and told him to discreetly put anything he thought necessary in Sophia’s room—preferably somewhere she would easily discover it. The deed must have been done before the girls shared their first night in the same room because S
ophia had turned scarlet the next morning at breakfast when I walked into the room. Eleanor refused to look up from her plate.
“She’s a character,” Duke says, a grin breaking across his fast as he leans back in his chair and stretches his legs out in front of him. “Just Mason’s type, I reckon. I can see why he cares for her—maybe even loves her? She loves him—fiercely loyal, too. The minx came for my head when I suggested they were enjoying a misguided fling.”
I frown. “She sounds volatile.”
“She is,” Duke agrees with a nod, “but she's not dangerous. Mostly, she comes off as unmedicated. I’ve already told Mason to keep an eye on her. You might want to ask Mrs. Dawson if her daughter is unstable.”
“Finally learned you shouldn’t ask a mother if her daughter is mental, huh?” Father teases Duke who frowns at no doubt what is an unpleasant memory for him.
I snicker, remembering a few years ago when Duke asked Charlotte if Lilith was crazy after she had come down from a manic episode. That was the first and last time Duke Cooper ever saw Charlotte Right lose her shit. It was also one of the few times I saw Duke scared. That day, he saw the monster that lurks behind my mother’s calm facade.
He has never asked Mother about Lilith again. I suppose he went straight to the source.
“Shut up, Thanos,” Duke snaps. I cough into my hand to stifle the laugh. It doesn’t work. “I hope you burn in hell, you bas—”
There is a knock on the office door.
“Hold that thought—or the bus if you prefer to drive us there,” I tell him, pushing to my feet and going to the door. Benjamin is on the other side, his brows pulled down as he frowns.
“Sir—” he hurriedly speaks, “—a Vârcolac was caught at the edge of the property. He’s been contained to the stables but—”
“Please make sure everyone is accounted for,” I interrupt, stepping out of my office.
Duke rises to his feet. “I am going to check on Lilith.”
Father does not rush to check on his wife—my mother. He knows if she requires assistance, which is highly unlikely, she will give a shout.
After The I Do Page 25
