House of Pawns Page 13

  And his compliment, no matter how demented and twisted the contents of it are, gives me pause. Something lifts in my chest. Being complimented, being recognized and praised for what I am able to do, it’s something I have yet experienced.

  I swallow hard, and take a step back from him. I blink three times, clearing the charmed fog from my brain. “I will figure this out. As you said, this is my job to deal with, and I’d appreciate it if you left me to it.”

  Raheem raises an eyebrow at me. “As you wish.”

  MY HANDS SHAKE AS I park the car in front of the cabin and shut the engine off. My insides quake. My palms sweat. My heart is hammering in my chest.

  There are scorch marks on Lula’s front lawn. A broken window was patched and repaired with duct tape. And Ian’s front door—there’s axe marks on it.

  My eyes stayed glued to his front door the entire time.

  Slipping the keys into my pocket, I climb out of the Jeep and close the door behind me. At the same time, the front door opens.

  Ian walks out onto his rickety front porch, hands stuffed into his pockets, just like they always used to be. His eyes are impassive and show me nothing as I walk toward the steps.

  I stop at the bottom of them, looking up at him.

  I have to fight back the tears that bite at the back of my eyes. I can’t help the redness that I’m sure is building there, but I bite my lower lip once to be sure it doesn’t quiver.

  “What are you doing here, Liv?”

  And the sound of his voice, the anger behind it, but the way he says Liv instead of Alivia, I have to look away from him and take several long breaths.

  I don’t want to look weak.

  I can’t afford to look weak in front of anyone, not in my current position and circumstances.

  But this is Ian.

  There’s no pretending here.

  Finally, when I feel I have control over myself again, I look back at him.

  “I came to let you know that King Cyrus will be coming in just over one week,” I say. My voice isn’t as calm as I’d like it to be. “I thought you should know. So you can prepare.”

  He looks at me a long time, biting the inside of his lower lip. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His eyes dart away from me, and back again. I can see the emotional war going on inside his own head. “You want to come in for a minute?”

  The sting bites my eyes once more, but I nod my head perhaps a little to vigorously. “Yeah.”

  He steps aside, and I don’t look at him as I climb the stairs and walk past him into the cabin.

  It’s just as hard being back inside. A reminder of how I hid here once. How we trained. How he acted like he was annoyed by me, but really, we were building up to something amazing and grand and cosmic.

  And then everything we became ruined it all.

  I walk over to his worn out couch, past the garbage can in the kitchen that’s full of empty blood bags, and sink into it, sitting in the far corner.

  I can rule a house of vampires as a human, but I cower from the one who left me and broke my heart into a million sharp shards.

  Ian closes the front door and it’s only just now that I realize how light it still is outside. Him being out there, standing in even the dim light had to be painful. But now, we’re once again closed in darkness. He turns on a lamp and we’re cast in a dim glow.

  “I, um,” I begin when he doesn’t say anything. “We caught the spy. He does work for the King. He let us know the timeframe.”

  “You feel like you’re prepared?” he asks. He pulls over one of the dining chairs and sits in it, arms crossed over his chest.

  I swallow once more. “I suppose so. I have the support I think I need. And, well, I was prepared to die once before.”

  It’s a shallow and desperate tactic, but I so badly want to remind him of how much he meant to me. That I was once willing to die to save him. How much I think he still means to me.

  And I think it works. Because Ian suddenly can’t look at me any more. His eyes go to the floor. His breath deepens and speeds up just slightly.

  “I’ve missed you, Ian,” I breathe. So quietly I’m not certain I actually say it out loud. But it’s true and I can’t hold it in.

  His breathing gets harder, harsher. And even though he won’t look at me, I can tell he’s warring with some kind of desire.

  I stand, and slowly, cautiously, strained and desperate, I cross the room toward him.

  “Ian,” I breathe. “I miss you every second. I miss you beside me in my bed. I miss the way you whisper my name. I miss the taste of your lips.” I stop just a foot in front of him. I am pathetic and low and begging, and nothing in me feels ashamed of it. “I miss us.”

  And in a movement that is impossible, Ian is on his feet and I’m yanked up from the floor. My legs are forced apart and strong hands are gripping my ass, holding me close to Ian’s hard frame. My back is pushed painfully against the wall and then Ian’s lips are on mine.

  The breath whooshes out of my chest in one lusty sigh. My lips part to invite Ian’s tongue, which is demanding and desperate. My hands tangle in his hair, pulling not so gently. Ian’s left hand supports my weight as his right comes to cup my face.

  Stars and explosions are taking over my body. I am alive. We are all that has ever existed and all that will ever matter in this dark and dangerous world.

  My hands slide down to his shirt and I tug it up, up and over his head, forcing our lips to part for just a second that is too long. I toss it too the floor and let my hands trace over his chiseled chest with no hesitance.

  Ian pulls us away from the wall and turns, crossing into the kitchen. He sets me down on the kitchen counter, only to yank me toward him, sending a little explosion of pleasure through my center when my open legs collide with his hardness.

  There’s a glazed over look to Ian’s eyes as he removes my shirt and his lips return to my collarbone. My head lolls back and my eyes slide closed.

  “Why do I still want you so bad?” he growls into my flesh. “One damn look and that’s all it takes.”

  His lips slide up, his teeth brushing over my exposed arteries. One bite. A few long pulls. That’s all it would take. And then we’d be the same.

  “Do it, Ian,” I suddenly say, even as I feel his fangs lengthen against my tender flesh. “I don’t want the King to be the one who takes me. I want it to be you.”

  And just like that, Ian yanks back. His eyes glow bright, his fangs fully extended. “What?” he demands, anger in his eyes. “Are you kidding me? Are you talking about sex or dying here? Because either is just…” He takes a step away from me, giving me a disgusted look.

  The lustful, blissed out fog clears from my brain in an instant, and I realize what I’ve just said. “I…” I stutter. “I thought…”

  “What, Liv?” he demands as he bends down and grabs my shirt from the floor and tosses it at me. “That me killing you on my kitchen counter would fix anything? That it might magically change something? Or are we talking about sex, because supposedly you might be the King’s dead wife and who knows what kind of sick shit he’s going to do when he gets here in a few days.”

  “Ian,” I say, my tone getting louder. I hop off the counter, pulling my shirt back on. “That’s not what I meant at all! I just…it was something said in the heat of the moment. But it’s true. I don’t want the King to be the one who kills me, but I am going to die sometime very soon.” Emotion takes hold of my throat and squeezes hard. “And I’d rather it be you who does it.”

  He gives me a look like he doesn’t even know me. “I’m sure you can get one of your newfound lackeys to do it.”

  And once again I choke up. “I’m sure I could,” I say, and my voice cracks slightly. “Because they’re there for me. They understand loyalty.”

  Ian scoffs and soon it develops into a full-bellied laugh. “Do you realize how ridiculous you sound? What you just said? Loyalty? They’ve been with you for just a few weeks. Aft
er leaving someone they’ve been with for fifteen years. You think they understand loyalty? You’re a fool if you do.”

  I realize I’m not breathing any more. Tears well heavy in my eyes and I shake my head. My lip threatens to tremble. Every piece of me is breaking inside.

  “Look at us,” I say quietly. “I thought love was the word that described what I tried to do for you that night. That it was why you kept coming back to me, knowing my fate. But it seems I was wrong.”

  Ian places his hands on his hips, breathing hard through his nose as the red of his eyes slowly, very slowly fade. “It appears so.”

  We just stare at each other for a long moment. I keep waiting to wake up from this nightmare. For something to change. For either of us to say we don’t mean what has just been said.

  But it doesn’t. We don’t.

  “I think you should leave, Alivia.”

  And that, him using my given name, that’s the dagger through the heart.

  So it’s a thing of survival when I speak. “If I do, I won’t come back.”

  And it’s a promise. In more than one way. He’s been my voice of balance and reason when it came to this world. I won’t survive his rejection without protecting myself. I feel it closing in on me now. If he does this, I won’t come back to the girl he knew, because it will be too painful to be her.

  Maybe he knows my true meaning. Because he takes a really long time to respond.

  “Just go.”

  My face goes numb when I nod. I grab my coat off of the couch. I open the door.

  And I don’t look back when I walk out. When I walk back to my car. I don’t look to see if he’s watching me go as I back up.

  And I don’t cry on the drive home.

  Let my heart turn to ice, and I won’t wither and die.

  WE HAVE SEVEN MORE EMPTY rooms here in the Conrath Estate. Raheem tells us we should expect a dozen of the King’s court members to join him in his visit.

  Rath orders new furniture for Ian’s old bedroom, the one right next to mine. Lavish furnishings fit for the King he is. The other six rooms are taken extra care of. The steel window coverings once used for my father are reinstalled throughout the entire house.

  I see it in my House members eyes: they’re nervous for the King’s arrival. As they should be. But they’re brave. They’re going to stay by my side.

  And I realize something important: Ever since I learned about my father, I’ve felt this hole inside of me. I’ve felt hollow, empty. I want to know Henry. I’ve felt robbed of something, of the family that everyone around me has had.

  But I don’t feel so hollow anymore. My House members, they’ve become family. They’ve begun filling me back in, one individual at a time.

  They may be dark. They may have flaws. They may not even be human, but they are mine.

  Four days before Cyrus’ arrival, I’ve just walked downstairs when the front doors explode open. Samuel sails across the foyer before crashing into a wall. Markov appears in a blur, his hands around his throat, his eyes glowing with death.

  “What is going on?!” I bellow as I dart across the marble floor and attempt to pull Markov off of Samuel. “Markov! Control yourself!”

  “It is he that needs to control himself!” Markov says as he hisses in Samuel’s face. He yanks on the front of Samuel’s shirt and once again he goes sailing through the air.

  When Samuel lands beside the front door, his eyes dart to mine, and I notice the rush of blood covering his lips, cascading down over his chin, running down his neck.

  “What did you do, Samuel?” I ask in horror. My limbs go numb. Markov stops at my side, seething, his entire body trembling with anger.

  Samuel looks in fear from me, to Markov, and back again. “I…it just happened before I could stop myself…”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know yourself, man-whore,” Markov growls. He takes one step toward Samuel, my hand darts out to grasp his wrist and stop him. He doesn’t look my way, but he does halt.

  “What,” I say, leveled and in control, “happened?”

  Samuel slowly climbs to his feet, never once taking his eyes off of Markov. “It’d been a while since…since I’d been with…” his eyes dart to mine for a moment, shame heavy there. “A woman. Lexi is always down for a good time, so I called her, went to her place.”

  “Idiot,” Markov growls. His anger shocks me. It’s so profound.

  Samuel casts him another wary look. “I guess it’s just been a while since I had the fresh stuff, you know? Cause there I was, just kissing her, well, you know… And then the pulse under her skin just looked so…”

  Samuel’s eyes flash red and I nearly take a step back from him.

  Those same eyes flick back up to me, and they instantly fade away. “I swear, I didn’t mean it. I know your rule, not to feed on anyone in town. I just…”

  Instantly Markov is there again, pressing hard fingers into Samuel’s throat, pinning his head against the wall. “Every mistake you make jeopardizes us all in this critical time.”

  “I know,” Samuel coughs out. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Alivia.”

  “Did you kill her?” I ask very quietly.

  Samuel shakes his head vigorously. “She’ll be fine, I swear.” His voice is difficult to understand with Markov choking him.

  “Let him go, Markov,” I say, keeping my tone even and level, despite the anger I myself feel building inside. Markov is right. We can’t afford stupid, rookie mistakes like this.

  Instantly, Markov releases him, shoving him back as he does. Samuel doesn’t cough, but he does place his hands protectively around his throat.

  I walk slowly toward him, even as I hear other House members gather around to see what the commotion is about.

  “I promised you that I would take care of you, Samuel,” I say as I stop just a foot from him. “It seems I’ve failed to meet your most basic need.”

  “No,” Samuel says, his eyes filled with fear and regret. “You haven’t. There’s always plenty to drink. Nial is very careful. I’m just…weak.”

  I shake my head. “Apparently it’s not good enough. I made a promise, and I will keep it.” I pull my long sleeve up, holding my gaze on his face as I do. I bring my exposed, white forearm up, offering. “You can take as much as you like. I promised.”

  Samuel looks from my arm, back to my eyes, in confusion. He shakes his head. “I’m good. I swear. It won’t happen again.”

  My expression is calm, even though inside I’m dreading what I have to do. “I am sorry, too. I have been neglecting my promise. Now drink, Samuel. As much as you need.”

  “Alivia,” Lillian says, wariness in her voice.

  I don’t look back at her, but Markov hushes her.

  “Drink, Samuel,” I say, my voice more demanding.

  He hesitates, so I take his hand in mine, wrap his fingers around my wrist, and push my arm toward his mouth.

  And truly, like he can’t help it, the moment my flesh touches his teeth, his fangs extend, and his jaw latches around my arm.

  Instantly, my mind goes numb and my entire body goes still.

  I’m nothing. I could float away into the abyss of darkness and it wouldn’t matter. I am air.

  But as the seconds?...minutes?...pass by, I hear voices, muffled and far away.

  “This has gone far enough.” I think it’s Lillian. “Look at Samuel. You think he’s ever going to make this mistake again?”

  “This is Alivia’s House, and Alivia’s punishments to bestow.” Markov.

  “She’s growing whiter by the second.” Not sure who that is.

  Oh. What have I done? Someone. Anyone. Please stop Samuel!

  Because I feel something inside of me growing darker. Feeling lighter. I feel dizzy.

  “Enough!” a voice bellows and suddenly I’m released, and just before I collapse to the floor, strong arms catch me. I hear Samuel crash back into the wall. “Learn your lesson well and remember what this woman is willing to do for
you. For all of you.”

  My eyes flutter, attempting to clear the haze from them. I faintly make out Rath’s angry face. And feel him begin to climb the steps. “Someone call Nial. She’s lost a lot of blood.”

  I feel heavier and heavier. Heavy as the moon. Surely I will sink straight through the middle of the Earth. That is if I don’t float away into nothingness.

  I’m so tired.

  So.

  Tired.

  THE FIRST FACE I SEE when my eyes flutter open is Rath’s.

  He’s sitting in a chair beside my bed. His forearms are resting on his knees and he spins the ring with the Conrath crest on his finger. His lips are pursed together, concern and maybe anger heavily present there.

  A quiet beeping sound draws my attention and at the head of the bed, I notice a monitor and bags with tubes extending from it into my hand.

  “You’re awake,” Rath states as I rip the needles out of the back of my hand. Slowly, I sit up, and Rath must know better than to fight me because he simply slips a pillow behind my back to help me up. “Easy.”

  My head swims and the room tilts just slightly. I go to rub my eyes when I notice the blood on the back of my hand, caused from my not so gentle removal of the tubes leading into me.

  “Not how I recommend removing them,” Nial says. I look to see him pulling something from the drawer of a medical cart that’s magically appeared in my room. He turns toward me and crosses to my bedside. I notice Samuel in the corner, looking miserable.

  Nial places gauze on the back of my hand and tapes it to my skin. “You lost a lot of blood.”

  “How long was I out for?” I ask as my body gets its bearings. I feel better with every second.

  “About six hours,” Rath responds. I look over at him, and realize he won’t look me in the eye. And that makes my stomach feel sick.

  “Are you alright, Samuel?” I ask as I tilt my head just slightly and offer him a small smile.

  His face is stark white and he looks sick, too. But he nods his head, just a small thing. “I’m so sorry. I swear, it will never, ever happen again.”