House of Royals Page 5

  “Elle, this is Alivia Ryan,” Ian says, waving a hand in my direction. “Alivia, this is my little sister, Elle Ward.”

  “Oh,” I say, surprised once again by this vamp hunter. “I…uh, it’s nice to meet you.”

  “I love your name,” Elle says shyly with a smile that looks so much like Ian’s. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Ian, Lula told me to tell you it’s time for dinner.”

  “’K,” he says. “We’ll be right in.”

  Elle looks at me one more time and offers a fluttering little smile before she heads outside again.

  “I should have figured you were a big brother,” I say with a small smile when I meet his eyes. “You do have that whole protective quality going on.”

  Ian fights off a smile and opens the door wider for me. “Shut up,” he laughs. “Come on. Don’t make my grandmother wait for us.”

  The house is as warm and inviting inside as it looks from the outside. Crisp white walls, a light, sky blue ceiling. Old, well worn, but taken care of furniture. It smells like a grandma, but in all the right ways. It makes me wish I’d had a grandmother. My own died when I was only six years old.

  We round the corner of the living room into the dining room and kitchen. Elle is helping a woman set things on the table.

  “Lula, I hope you don’t mind that I have a guest tonight,” Ian says as he places his hands on the back of a chair. I stand there uncomfortably.

  The woman turns, and I see her face for the first time.

  It’s impossible not to notice the wrinkles first. Folds and canyons and ravines cover her entire body. Dark eyes are hooded and shadowed by her features. Her earlobes are long and dangly. And unlike the kind, motherly woman I was expecting from the house, this woman’s eyes are fierce and dark.

  “You got a girlfriend?” she asks, somehow managing to raise an eyebrow as she shuffles across the kitchen to the table with a casserole dish in her weathered hands. Her Southern drawl is strong, and I can barely understand her.

  “Uh,” Ian says uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. “No. This is Alivia Ryan. She just got into town.”

  The woman looks at me, staring me down like she can see into my soul.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I say without squirming.

  Finally, she gives a grunt and a nod before turning back to retrieve something from the kitchen.

  “Don’t worry about her,” Ian whispers in my ear. His closeness makes something in my stomach do a backflip. “She’s pretty crazy and won’t even remember you were here in the morning.”

  “She really won’t,” Elle says quietly as she finishes setting the table.

  “Oh,” is all I can say in this super awkward situation.

  After saying grace, everyone digs into their dinner.

  “School starts on Monday, right Elle?” Ian asks around a mouthful of some kind of food that’s so Southern I don’t have a name for it. Since we ate only an hour ago, I’m having a hard time fitting anything else in my stomach.

  She nods. “Sophomore year,” she says with a cringe. “Do you think you could drive me into town to get the rest of my stuff tomorrow?”

  “I’ll take ‘ya, child,” Lula says. “Been takin’ care of ‘ya fo’ the last how many years? I’ll keep on keepin’ on.”

  “Yes, Lula,” Elle says, looking down at her plate with a knowing little smile.

  I glance over at Ian. His eyes flit over to mine. “She can’t drive anymore, and hasn’t been able to for quite a few years. Thankfully, her hearing isn’t what it used to be either.”

  I look back at her, and she’s staring at her food, munching slowly and deliberately.

  We finish our meal and Lula shuffles off to bed, even though it’s barely seven o’clock. Elle clears the table as Ian and I do the dishes.

  “How old is your grandmother?” I ask when we’re nearly finished and Elle has said goodnight to go read a book.

  “She’s eighty-seven,” Ian says as he dries the last plate and puts it away. I drain the dishwater and dry my hands. Together we walk out to the back porch and sit on the top stair.

  “She’s Elle’s caretaker, isn’t she?” I ask quietly as the sun starts to slip toward the trees.

  Ian nods. His eyes drop to the steps we sit on. His forearms rest on his knees, his fingers tightly knitted together.

  “What happened to your parents, Ian?”

  He chews the inside of his lip for a second, and I can feel the gears turning in his head. He picks at a hangnail before finally answering me.

  “We lived in this little, crappy house closer to town when I was a kid. It always smelled like swamp, even though we were miles from it. One night when I was ten, I was lying awake, listening to my parents fight for the thousandth time. They fought all the time. Elle was sleeping on the bottom bunk, even though she probably should have been in a crib—she was only two, snoring like a wolf.” He chuckles, his eyes rising to the horizon, and shakes his head.

  “There was a loud shatter, like the door being busted down. My mom screamed and dad yelled. There were gunshots.” He swallows and his eyes fall back down again. “I was scared, scared to death. But I climbed out of bed and cracked open the door. It looked right out into the living room. What I saw…there wasn’t any logical explanation for it to a ten year old.”

  I know what’s coming and imagining the scene? It’s horrific. I fight the urge to reach out and rub a hand over Ian’s back.

  “There was this man there,” he says, his voice hardening, but showing the slightest emotion. “Eyes glowing red, face covered in these horrible black veins. His face was covered in blood. Dad was already dead, drained dry. The vampire was holding Mom. She was stone white.”

  A shiver runs up my back. As horrible as my own mother’s death had been, at least I hadn’t witnessed her murder. In such a brutal and unnatural way.

  “The vamp looked up at me, and I thought for sure I was dead. Elle, too. I should have screamed, but I could only stare at my dead mom.” His voice cracks just slightly, but overpowering it is anger. “The thing just stared at me…for a long time. Finally, sense came back to my brain. I slammed the door shut, locked it. I grabbed Elle from her bed. She started crying. I crawled out the window with her and started running.” Ian takes a deep breath, his eyes rising back up. “I ran here. To my grandmother’s house. I told her what I’d seen. The crazy thing was that she believed me.”

  Finally, hesitantly, I reach out and place a hand on his back. His body is warm through his t-shirt. I rub my hand back and forth lightly just twice.

  Ian had been just a kid. He was so young and so innocent. And in an instant, he’d become an orphan. But instead of crying, instead of breaking down like pretty much anyone else would have, he grabbed his baby sister and saved both of their lives.

  Ian looks back at me, his eyes serious and heavy. “You hear that ignorance is bliss all the time. I had no idea as a kid how bad Silent Bend’s vampire problem was. And is. And the thing is, half the town is fully aware of it.”

  “Whatever this House is that you keep saying is going to come after me, they’re all vampires, aren’t they?” I ask, taking my hand back.

  Ian nods and then stands. He reaches out a hand and pulls me to my feet. “Yeah. And I’ll tell you about them, but first we have to lock the house down.”

  When we walk back inside, Ian makes his way to Elle’s bedroom. “You need to go anywhere else tonight?” he asks.

  She looks up from her book, lying on her bed, and shakes her head.

  “’K,” Ian says. “I’m going to lock up now. We’re going to bed.”

  “Alright,” she says, glancing over at me. But it isn’t suggestive, considering what Ian just said. This girl knows her brother. It comforts me that she knows Ian isn’t like that. “Goodnight.”

  “Night,” he says as he pulls her door closed.

  I wait in the living room as Ian tells his grandmother goodnight. And as I wait, I then realize how
there are bars on all the windows in the house.

  Ian reemerges and heads straight for the front door. He sets a series of locks that are intense. He does the same for the side door that goes out the laundry room. “Come on,” he says with the tip of his head for the back door. We walk out and he pulls out keys and locks no less than four locks. Finally, he pulls out his phone and taps something. I hear three beeps from inside. A green light flashes on one of the locks.

  “That’s one intense security system,” I say as he slips his phone back into his pocket. “I’m guessing that doesn’t alert the authorities if it’s tripped.”

  Ian shakes his head. “You’d guess right.”

  Poor Elle. Considering all of this, it’s hard to imagine she’s capable of having much of a social life. Or any chance at any form of a normal life at all.

  We walk across the lawn and back in to the cabin. I flip a light on and turn to watch Ian lock up six locks, sliding a solid iron bar over the door.

  “Will all that stuff really keep out a vampire if they’re determined to get in?” I ask.

  Ian turns to look at me. “Not if they really want to get in. But it’ll slow them down. Take a look.”

  Ian walks over to his couch and pulls the cushions off of it. Beneath them is a long box, the entire length of the couch. He pulls off the lid.

  Inside is a huge stack of wooden stakes. Some of them stained with blood.

  “You take being a vigilante seriously,” I say, raising an eyebrow.

  He actually laughs. He gets small crinkle lines around his eyes and mouth when he does. It’s kind of ridiculously charming. “You have no idea, baby doll.”

  He’s called me that twice now…

  He crosses to the kitchen and opens the oven. But instead of delicious baked goods, this one reveals a stash of guns and knives. Ian looks back at me and gives a smug look. He goes on to reveal a mirror in the bathroom that opens to show off more guns. From beneath his bed he pulls out a crossbow and three shotguns.

  “Okay, I realize now why Rath sent me off to stay here,” I say. There’s genuine concern in my voice. I’m suddenly very intimidated.

  “I’m not letting another vamp touch my family again,” Ian says seriously as he slides the shotguns back under the bed. “It’s been pretty safe in this town the last two years or so, but your attack? Henry’s? They were both out of place.”

  “How so?” I ask, settling onto the bed. It’s well worn out. I can feel the springs.

  “Look, Liv,” he says, rubbing his eyes with a thumb and a finger. “There’s a lot to educate you on and not a whole ton of time to do it. But I’m exhausted and have been up for the last two nights straight. I’ll make more sense in the morning.”

  I glance outside. There’s still plenty of light on the horizon, I’d guess it’s not even nine o’clock. But he does look exhausted.

  “Okay,” I say. “We can talk in the morning.”

  He rubs his eyes again and doesn’t even look at me before peeling off the wall and disappearing into the bathroom. I lie back on the bed and stare at the wooden ceiling, listening to him preparing for bed. A few minutes later, he walks out and back into the bedroom.

  “I may be a Southern gentleman and offered my bed, but you’ve got to share the pillows,” he says with an attempt of a smile. But it’s tired.

  I grab one and throw it at him.

  He catches it, reflexes quick and agile. He offers an appreciative smile and heads for the couch in the living room. Not five minutes later, I hear a faint snore drifting in through the door.

  This all seems so overkill. Having to leave the home I just learned I had. Hiding in a cabin in the woods with a guy who has an obsession with weapons and bloodsuckers.

  But my hand reaches up to where I was bitten. I’d wandered out of the house once and was almost immediately attacked.

  There’s so much more to Silent Bend than meets the eye.

  I roll onto my side and feel something hard press into my rear end. Remembering the letter in my back pocket, I pull it out.

  My name is written in elegant script, curving and bending in ways that isn’t often seen in this century.

  Thinking back to what that book said about Henry Conrath building the plantation house in 1799, I know now that it wasn’t his great-something-grandfather. It was my father.

  I slide my finger under the wax seal and break the raven crest. I pull two sheets of paper from inside it, and an ornate, old fashioned key with a raven set in the middle of the handle falls out into my hand.

  Setting the key on my chest, my eyes turn to the letter.

  My dear Alivia,

  I’ve thought about the contents of this letter for over a month now. In my grand perspective of time, it’s really nothing more than the blink of an eye, but still, it’s been on my mind every waking second.

  Your mother tracked me down and told me of your existence. I must admit that I couldn’t really believe her at first. You see, it isn’t an easy thing for someone like me to create offspring. And it’s been a long time since I last saw Marlene Ryan. But she sent me your picture and I knew. I see it with my own eyes. I am your father.

  And that knowledge fills me with both great elation and solemn regret. I’ve lived a life of isolation for a very long time because losing my only family member has destroyed me in ways I never could have imagined. So knowing that for the past nineteen years I have in fact had family makes me so happy. I wish I had known sooner. I wish we could have had time together. I wish I could have been there for you.

  I don’t realize that I’m crying, just a few paragraphs in, until a strangled breath catches in my throat and a tear rolls down my cheek and drips back into my ear. All my insides are shaking, quivering. My chest feels tight and constricted.

  I have many wishes for what might have been.

  But I am also sorry.

  Knowing that I am your father, I know the fate that I have put upon your shoulders. Eventually, you will know the truth about what I am. It may take years, hopefully many, many of them. But what I have is yours, and someday, I suppose, you will learn everything.

  I am sorry I have thrust you into this immortal life. My own has been a long one, and the vast majority of it has been unhappy. It’s been full of politics and manipulation and distrust. I never want that for you.

  So I ask you this: stay away from the House. Stay away from the King. Stay away from our kind.

  I know this is asking for a life of isolation, but I only found peace when I removed myself from everything I’ve just listed out for you. They can bring you nothing but pain.

  Should you ever come to Silent Bend and I am no longer alive, I’ve asked Rath to give you this letter. I had hoped that we could meet some day, face to face. But I am a coward. If you’re reading this, it means I never found the courage to seek you out myself and do it the right way. There are not enough sorrys that I can put on these pages for that.

  But if you come, trust Rath. He will never lead you astray. His loyalty is unprecedented, and he will take care of you.

  I wish I could have gotten the same opportunity.

  I know we’ve never met, but I do love you, Alivia.

  Until we meet, all my love,

  Henry.

  I will do my best, Henry. I promise.

  “RISE AND SHINE, PRINCESS.”

  I breathe the words right into Ian’s ear. When he lashes out with a fist, I hold up the frying pan, blocking his blow. But he springs off the couch faster than I expect, diving for my legs. I go down on top of him with a yelp. Determined not to be bested, I twist, wrapping my legs around his neck and attempting to squeeze.

  But Ian is a rolling, writhing snake and he springs to his feet. I dangle with my legs still wrapped around his neck, the two of us back to back, me hanging upside down.

  For half a second, a smile crosses my lips.

  But with a great yell, Ian flips me over his shoulder. I manage to twist slightly as he does and land on my back.
Hard.

  Ian pins me to the ground, forearm across my throat, clutching a stake in his hand. He pants, eyes wild and wide. They go even wider when he realizes it’s me.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he asks as confusion takes over his expression. But his voice is loaded with annoyance.

  “Trying to prove I’m not a useless little flower,” I say with a snide smile. Ian is shirtless, his bare skin pressed up against my stomach since my shirt has ridden up during our wrestling match. “I may not know how to defend myself yet, but I’m not all that delicate, either.”

  Ian stares at me, his eyes going back and forth between mine. And slowly, a smile chips its way onto his lips. He lets out a little chuckle. “Yeah, you’re Henry’s daughter, all right. He was a defiant little prick, too.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I say as Ian stands and pulls me to my feet.

  “What time is it?” Ian asks.

  “Clock in your room says nine-thirty,” I say as I move to the kitchen. I’m starving, and that was one of the main reasons I woke Ian. “I figured twelve and a half hours of sleep should be enough.”

  “Damn,” Ian says as he shuffles off to the bathroom. “Can’t remember the last time I slept that long.” He only half shuts the door before he starts taking a leak.

  It’s disgusting, that’s for sure. But I also find myself shaking my head and laughing. Ian is a man who’s used to living alone and doing his own thing.

  “I was thinking of making pancakes,” I call as I hear him washing his hands.

  “I don’t think I have any of the stuff,” he says as he walks out. “I don’t keep too much around here. Might find everything at Lula’s though.”

  “To be honest, your grandmother kind of terrifies me,” I admit as I start pulling out the flour and sugar and all the ingredients he does in fact have. “And the only thing I see you don’t have is maple extract. Think she’d have that?”

  “Not a chance in hell she doesn’t,” he chuckles. I don’t think he’s realized he’s only wearing boxers. Even when he slips his shoes on and opens the door. It’s really difficult not to enjoy the shirtless view. “I’ll be back in a sec.”