House of Ravens Page 6

  I feel around the edge of the shelf, right where it meets the wall, and find just a small crack in the surface there. My fingers continue to follow it downward. It runs from the floor to about six feet off the ground.

  Smiling to myself, I start pressing, feeling for the release. And just a moment later, it clicks, popping back out at me, releasing the door.

  Of course there’s a hidden door. It’s the Conrath Estate. I’m sure I’ll never discover all its hidden features and passages.

  I pull the hidden doorway toward myself and am instantly clouded with the scent of dirt and moisture. My eyes take a moment to adjust.

  Darkness lies behind the door, but as I step through it, I find myself in a dark tunnel. The passageway is narrow, only slightly wider than my body. I’m sure it was difficult for Henry to fit through it. I squeeze between dirt walls, smelling the moisture attempting to seep up through the ground. I walk about a dozen feet before I squeeze through the narrowest part of the passage yet, before suddenly breaking out into a wider tunnel.

  A familiar one.

  Wooden beams support the passageway, and I’m on level ground. I look down one way, toward where I know it eventually lets out to a hidden door at the edge of the property, and the other way, which connects back into my house, to a doorway directly into my room.

  “You sneaky bastard,” I say with a smile on my face.

  Of course Henry would have another way out of his lab. He always had an escape route. And an alternate way to get from his lab into the rest of his house, without opening up the whole damn floor in the ballroom.

  I look down at myself and see what a mess I’ve made of my clothes, brushing up against the dirt walls in the narrow passageway. Carefully, I make my way back to the lab door, and pull it closed behind me, staying in the tunnel. I can’t go back into my father’s sterile lab coated in dirt. Besides, I’m not sure what else to look for in there. I have yet to find any clues.

  It’s kind of comforting, walking through these underground tunnels. It’s easy to pretend that time doesn’t exist. I could be in the twenty-first century, or the eighteenth one, when Henry had them dug. I could be here before the world wars or the Civil.

  And as far as I know, I’m the only one who knows of their existence. I have an escape if I need one. Some place I can go to be alone where no one will find me.

  Except maybe Henry.

  Suddenly, I stop, looking back the direction to the edge of the property.

  My heart stills.

  I’ve lived here at the Conrath Estate for ten months. With this passageway, Henry could have easily gained access to his lab.

  Thinking of that picture, the one of my boarding the plane, it had to have been placed in the lab after Henry “died.” After I arrived here at the Conrath Estate.

  We’ve been in this house at the same time.

  Henry is alive.

  My heart races. Thunders. Blood rushes through my ears.

  I’m so close. So close to meeting my father. To reconnecting with a piece of me that’s been missing my entire life.

  I look over my shoulder once more and continue walking down the tunnel. I don’t have to go far before a set of stone stairs begins ascending. Up the back of the house, and finally, breaking out onto a small landing.

  I pause behind the painting for at least a minute, listening hard for sounds of life in my bedroom. When I hear none, absolutely certain of it, I push one edge of the painting forward, opening the doorway, and step into my room.

  Not wasting any time, I cross into my bathroom, stripping off my filthy clothes, and burying them beneath other items of clothing so that Ian will not see them and question me about how I got so filthy.

  With a little smile, I start the hot water and step into the shower.

  I’m just a little closer to discovering Henry’s secrets.

  THE DAYS BEGIN TO MOVE FAST.

  There’s so much work to be done.

  Anna and Ian take control of security. She’s tense about it, angry and hostile. This is her job. But she recognizes Ian’s ability to hunt, and she doesn’t have much choice but to accept it. And in the end, I think she recognizes we are better for it.

  Everyone goes out in shifts of three. Two to constantly patrol town, one to always be checking the property for signs of spies or intruders. With nineteen members, dividing them into teams of three leaves no one too heavily burdened with four-hour shifts. Every team gets one shift per twenty-four hour period.

  It makes the air feel tense. It sets us all on edge. And the curse that still hangs in the air isn’t helping. But it makes them ready. Prepared.

  But to balance it out with some normalcy, at least somewhat, is the rearrangement of the living situations.

  It’s not an easy thing, balancing who will live where. I don’t want anyone feeling as if they’re less important because they have to live at the Institute, but while we have thirteen bedrooms here at the Estate, it is not enough to house everyone.

  In the end, it works itself out quite nicely.

  It’s only natural to give Lillian stewardship over the Institute. Even if she is not the House leader, someone needs to be the head of the household because I cannot be there all of the time. She’s given the master bedroom.

  I’m not surprised at all when Nial is torn. He’s unfailingly loyal to me, my name, and this House. But it’s so obvious and apparent that he and Lillian have some kind of budding feelings for one another.

  In the end, it’s very difficult for me, but I tell him that I think he should go to the Institute. I have to let the two of them take a chance at finding happiness together.

  It’s also not a shock when Trinity chooses to live at the Institute. She may have volunteered to be my escort to Court and my trial, but she still seems to hold some kind of resentment toward me. I don’t think I’ll ever know the reason why.

  I stand next to Cameron as he watches her pack up her things and walk out the door. He’s only wearing a pair of boxers, the scars on his chest exposed. The one that reads TRAITOR where Jasmine carved him up and the raven Cyrus branded into his skin. I don’t think he even notices he’s hardly clothed.

  “This isn’t fun,” he admits. He never once looks away from Trinity. “But I’ve spent too long hoping she’d see me.”

  “You’re amazing, Cameron,” I say as I lay my head on his shoulder, sliding my hand into his. “Someday, you’re going to find someone who’s going to be just as fun and warm as you are, and it’s all going to be amazing. And worth the wait.”

  “Thanks, Liv,” he says as he lays his head on top of mine and watches the door swing closed.

  I have to admit, I’m kind of bummed when Samuel decides to move out, as well. It sort of feels like he’s abandoning me. But I’m pretty sure he’s far too interested in Francesca; he’s being a total Kask. I have to remind myself that they’re still individuals, and I have to not be a hypocrite. No matter what House the members choose to reside in, they’re all important and still part of my family.

  As I stand out of the way five days later, watching as everyone moves their stuff in or out of the Estate, I track the bodies.

  At the Institute, we have Lillian in charge, with Nial at her side, and Samuel, Trinity, Francesca, Rowan, Holland, May, and Obasi under her care. Here at the Estate, we have Ian and Rath, of course, as well as Anna, Markov, Cameron, Christian, Danny, Lexington, Smith, and Leigh. This leaves us with three empty bedrooms here at the Estate, and one empty one at the Institute. Amazing, with how many members we have, that we still have room to grow, now that we have another House.

  I think I have most of their names down now. Leigh is the curvy beauty, brought to us through the King’s recruiting game. Smith is the severe man with the sharp features and the bleached blond hair. Holland could almost be Elle’s twin. They’re both tiny and blonde and quiet. She was the young woman who was volunteered by the House of Allaway. Rowan is the young, twelve-year-old boy who was forced to Resurrect by Seba
stian.

  I have a lot of work to do to get to know them all. But it will happen with time.

  “How are you feeling about all of this?” I ask as Ian walks up behind me, sliding his hands to my hips as if there was no other place for them to be.

  “I have to admit, I kind of hoped Markov would choose to move to the Institute,” he says into my hair as he presses a kiss to my head.

  I laugh at this. “He’ll surprise you. He’s unexpectedly…protective.”

  Ian nods. “I can see that. But really, it’s not been as bad as I anticipated it to be. I think after spending time with good ol’ Cyrus, they all don’t seem nearly as bad as they used to.”

  I can agree. Compared to Cyrus, we’re all just tame puppies.

  “I saw you talking to Danny earlier,” I say. He technically has a room here at the Estate now, but I’ve yet to see him spend much of any time in it. He still spends most of his time outdoors with the aid of sun goggles. He once agreed to join my House on the condition that I don’t ask where he disappears to during the day.

  There are so many secrets our kind keeps.

  “Yeah,” Ian says as he lets me go and stands at my side, his hands tucked into his pockets. “He doesn’t say much, but I don’t know, he seems to kind of get it. We both know we’re a part of this, but are just a little…”

  “Removed?” I fill in for him. “You both still are fine standing on your own two feet.” I’d asked Cameron to be Ian’s friend, and he sure is trying, but so far it’s Danny that Ian seems to connect best with.

  “That’s a good way of putting it, I guess,” Ian says. He rubs a hand over the back of his head, looking a little uncomfortable. He’s trying, so, so hard, but that doesn’t mean this is easy for him, or that he’s one hundred percent on board with every aspect of House life.

  “Well, if Leigh doesn’t stop looking at you like you’re a piece of candy, I’m going to have to rip her heart from her chest,” I say as I raise an eyebrow, remembering how she kept looking him up and down last night at dinner.

  “So violent when you’re jealous,” he teases, instantly turning on me. His arms fold around my waist, backing me into a wall, and setting his lips to the hollow at the base of my throat. All the electricity surges to my lower belly, and I can’t seem to help it when my eyes slide closed and my head falls back, letting him take control of me.

  “It’s a new thing I’ve discovered about myself since you came into the picture,” I say absentmindedly. He shifts his lips from my neck to my own lips, growing more gentle and tender, considering we’re standing here, just outside of the kitchen, for all to see.

  “I like it on you,” he whispers, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

  “Alivia,” a voice from behind Ian says, with the clearing of a throat.

  I look over Ian’s shoulder to find Rath standing there, looking rather uncomfortable.

  “Sorry,” I say, immediately untangling myself from Ian, though I keep hold of one of his hands. “I, uh-”

  Rath shakes his head, clearly conveying he has nothing to say to what we were doing. Awkward. “I just wanted to let you know that the first deposit was made into your account this morning. From King Cyrus.”

  Just the mention of his name sends a drop of ice into my stomach. Memories flood back. Of my punishment in the strip club. Of him beheading Jasmine. Of him torturing and branding those I love.

  “There was also a letter from his treasury,” Rath says, extending it out for me to see. It’s a yellowed piece of paper, folded and sealed with red wax with the King’s crest on it. It says very little. Just that, with the reestablishment of the House of Conrath, we will begin receiving monthly deposits in the amount of one million dollars, in exchange for our services of keeping the peace in our region.

  “Wow,” I breathe. I still can’t believe so many aspects of my new life.

  Ian gives a low whistle. “That sure is something.”

  Yeah, it is.

  “Well, it is appreciated,” I say as I hand the letter back to Rath. “It’s going to be expensive, supporting this many House members now.”

  Rath nods, and I can see the relief there on his face. My father left me a lot of money. But now that we have twenty people to support, that would drain the funds incredibly quickly.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” Ian says as he presses a kiss to my temple. “I’m going to go see Lula.”

  “How is she doing?” I ask as I follow him to the garage where his black utility van has been moved.

  “Not good,” he breathes with a sad expression. “Her lungs keep filling with fluid. If it gets much worse, they’ll move her to the hospital. When it gets to that point, at this age, they usually don’t recover.”

  “I’m sorry, Ian,” I offer, touching his arm gently.

  He only nods. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “Okay.” He walks through the door and closes it behind him.

  “Alivia.”

  I turn to see Markov crossing the hallway to join at my side. “May I speak to you?”

  “Of course,” I say. He hands over a stack of mail to me. On the top, I find another post card, this one from Indiana. It’s signed from Daphne. Having a wonderful trip! it says on the back.

  “I just wanted to tell you,” Markov says, his cold gray eyes staring at me. “I have a bad…feeling about Smith. Something just doesn’t seem right with him.”

  “Is there any particular reason why?” I ask, dropping my voice low and quiet. My own eyes scan the space around us, checking to see if we’re going to be overheard.

  Markov glances over his shoulder once again. “It’s just something in the way he watches everyone. He’s observant. Too much so. Like he’s looking for weaknesses. Ways to infiltrate. Ways to manipulate.”

  His suggestion turns my blood chill. “I know he doesn’t look like the most cuddly character,” I say. “Maybe it’s just that.”

  Markov shakes his head. “I’ve been around for a long time, my queen. There’s something about that man that does not sit well with me. I think you should be cautious with him.”

  I tuck the mail under my arm, crossing my arms over my chest and looking around the empty kitchen. I thought I was moving past this point, the one where I couldn’t trust those around me. But here it is, yet again. “I trust you,” I tell Markov. “I want you to watch him. It won’t bode well if he realizes we’re keeping an eye on him, so you must be careful.”

  That familiar, frightening gleam flashes in his eyes and a little smile forms on Markov’s face. “That won’t be a problem.”

  “I’m sure it won’t,” I say. Markov is my friend. I trust him with my life now. But he still terrifies me. “I trust you and your instincts. Thank you for saying something.”

  He bows his head, and I’m ever amazed at the reverence he treats me with. He turns and leaves.

  Great. What if Smith is a spy for the Bitten army? Or for Cyrus? Not that the king should still have a reason to keep watching me. But I can’t rule it out. Smith volunteered to leave the House of Allaway to join me, so where does the connection fall?

  Maybe there isn’t one. Maybe he’s just a sketchy-looking character and we’re all simply paranoid.

  The frustration and adrenaline that’s suddenly spiked in my blood causes the dryness in the back of my throat to flame hot. And the moment I think of it, it feels as if all of the veins running throughout my body dry out. Cracked, depleted. I feel my eyes light to red and my fangs lengthen just slightly, my numbing toxins pooling in my mouth.

  Walking to the new fridge we just had installed, I pull my key out and unlock it. Cool air spills from it as it swings open, revealing shelf after shelf lined with donated blood.

  It’s awful. All of this blood was donated so that it might save people’s lives. And we’re just downing it for consumption.

  But when you look at it, I suppose you could say it is still serving its purpose. We drink this blood, instead of feeding off of people.
Not all of us have very good control. We drink this, and there’s no risk of us killing someone. Or accidentally creating Bitten.

  I take two blood bags from the shelf and lock the fridge up again. I sit at the small table in one corner and open the first bag.

  Not everyone is satisfied with the bagged stuff. I know for a fact that Markov goes hunting once a week for fresh blood. I have to trust that he’s had good control and hasn’t killed anyone. After all, he’s been a vampire for over two hundred years.

  I’ve never seen Danny drink the bagged blood. Smith hunts. And I once saw Rowan actually throw up the bagged stuff. He’s still a child in age, and Resurrection. He’s a few weeks younger than myself. He’s only just now starting to normalize out where he doesn’t feel the constant need to feed.

  That’s not too bad. We have four members who must have fresh blood. That leaves fifteen who can survive in a way that doesn’t harm anyone.

  But I realize, the control we have here is fragile. While at Court, I came to realize just how little control I have over anything. I cannot control these members of my House. They are still individuals.

  I will have to consider myself lucky if they keep the rules and the balance of the House.

  I STAND AT THE WINDOW, the curtains pulled back, the window fully open in my bedroom. The crickets are especially loud tonight. A short-lived evening rain has left everything smelling amazing, but the temperatures are rising every day, and it’s already beginning to feel humid. The beginning of May has ushered in the beginning of the summer season.

  I love it. The warmth. The flowers. The sense of adventure it brings.

  But not this year. Everything is so very different this year.

  Because this will be my first summer as a vampire. The first summer I cannot go out and lay in the sun, just because it feels wonderful. The first summer there will be no swimming in the pool in the sunlight.

  And everything just feels so…dire. The air chokes my throat in a vice grip. The anxiety that sits in my heart could kill me. And it’s not just knowing what is to come. It’s this feeling of death in the air. I’m breathing a curse in and out, and with every breath, it leaves me coated in anxiety.