Chapter 6 #2
“We know when to leave a party before it gets the wrong kind of dangerous or dull,” Charlie answered.
“It’s because you’re all cowards.” Roan grinned.
“You basically all changed your appearances and disappeared in the populace. You didn’t clump all together.
You just kept moving and changing faces and bodies like other people change clothes.
But what else could you do? It’s not like your gift gives you any fighting abilities. ”
Charlie buffed his nails against his vest. “No, you’re quite right.
We’re lovers, not fighters. There’s very little worth fighting about.
The War is proof of that. I mean what did you win?
Daemon’s back. The Immortals are all coming back.
The whole world is going to be under Vampiric sway and you…
Well, you don’t get to be a part of it.”
“You’re right, Charlie,” Roan said, which seemed to shock Charlie even more than Grayson. “Unless we receive a dispensation from Daemon himself.”
Fiona snorted. “Highly unlikely. After all you’ve done?”
“You think that Caemorn would let you live?” Ryder asked. “Or, excuse me, let your soul be free? We both know he’s going to make pendant lights out of the lot of you.”
Roan’s expression went sour as Ryder said this, obviously agreeing with him. “He would think he had the right to do that, because we are him. But we are not. I am not.”
“The last Roan we captured was crazier than a shit-house rat and still wanted to overthrow Daemon. Do you have different ideas?” Grayson asked.
She waved a hand through the air as if to discard the last Roan. “Some of my selves are a little hung up on old ideas.” She put that hand to her chest. “I am all for the future.”
“Which includes squatting in my mother’s body and holding her soul for ransom?” Grayson lifted an eyebrow.
“Well, it’s like you all said: absent me having some leverage, I would be a nightlight at best. So I must do what I must do. And when I realized it was you, Ashyr, I realized my luck,” Roan said.
“And you thought because you took her that I would intercede with Daemon?” Grayson asked.
“Of course.” Roan smiled.
Grayson found himself growing cold. His father was nearby.
Perhaps touching his shoulder. Willing him to save his mother.
Grayson turned his head to catch Ryder’s eyes.
Ryder’s expression was carefully blank. He remembered what Ashyr was like, didn’t he?
He understood that Ashyr always put Daemon above all else, didn’t he?
And that the one time he hadn’t, had led to the War?
I love you. So much. But I’m not worthy of your love. Of my father’s love. Of my mother’s…
“Then you are mistaken,” Grayson said as he drew his gaze back to Roan.
Roan’s eyebrows rose. “Are you really expecting me to think that you would let your mother’s soul be lost forever just because you’re not willing to bend a little bit?”
“How long did you exist before the War?” Grayson asked.
“How long–”
“Yes, how long were you around before the War?” Grayson insisted.
“I have all of Kaly’s memories–”
“No, you don’t. Because if you did then you would know that you have no leverage over me,” Grayson cut him off.
There was silence in the room. It was so huge that it felt physical.
“I see. So you’re still the cold, icy General that you were before you gave your heart to Weryn?” Roan asked. “Actually, no, you probably still would be. But you had this life.”
“This life?” Grayson laughed shrilly. “This life.”
He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. The cold increased. He half expected his breath to frost. His father and likely Sam were trying to comfort him. But he didn’t deserve their comfort. They didn’t understand what he had to do. What he had to say.
“Your mother’s love for you is quite stunning. She made this house a practical shrine to when you were last here. It’s frozen in time.” Roan gestured around them.
It was Fiona’s gaze that he met when he lifted his head. She gave a nod. Did she know? Yes, Wyvern always understood, because she’d had to leave places and people behind because it was for the best for the future. That kind of strength, did he still have it?
“This house is like it is because of guilt,” Grayson said.
Roan stilled.
Grayson shook his head again. “She failed me. She knows it. Chose a poor mate. Brought an abuser into our house. Into my life. I had no choice, but she did. And she chose poorly.”
It was every childish feeling he’d ever had put into words. He knew that it wasn’t so simple. It never was. She’d made a mistake. He’d made plenty and they’d had terrible consequences. So had hers for both of them.
“That’s rather harsh!” Roan laughed and her eyes flickered amongst them all.
No one contradicted him. No one even shifted uncomfortably.
In a way, Charlie looked rather bored though he, out of all of them, had no real ability to save himself if things went south here.
What could Roan do in a human body? Did she have the Kaly gift still?
He thought about what his power was doing to this body.
What would the Kaly gift do to his mother’s?
“Yes, it is. But it is true,” Grayson continued.
“I had to protect us from her mistake. And she rejected me for it. Of course, I was confused, afraid, and then alone. I had to run. And running as a child in this world isn’t quite a trip to DisneyLand.
So, after I fixed the problem for us, she got to stay here in a nice warm house while I was on the streets. ”
“Even if I were to believe this quite cold and unyielding stance you’re taking, you didn’t kill innocents without good cause,” Roan pointed out.
“But I do have good cause,” Grayson said.
He had the best cause. The only cause. This was why he had to shed this life.
He couldn’t be bound by its weaknesses and lessons.
Because he already was taking a risk by being with Ryder.
He was opening himself up. But if he cared about his mother, his father, even Rachel…
no, he couldn’t. Because Roan was only the first who would try to use who he cared for against him.
“Which is?” Roan asked, scowling.
Grayson’s breath frosted the air and he began to shiver.
His father must be pressed right against him.
He wished he could touch the older man. He wished he could explain.
But his father was someone who cared about individuals above causes.
His life had been about putting those he loved before himself.
That was somewhat the same, but he had never been the general of an army, the right hand to a king, responsible for a whole species.
You have to understand, Dad. You have to. Please.
But his father wouldn’t. And he didn’t have to do anything. He’d made choices. Sacrificed twenty years of his afterlife…
“I serve King Daemon,” Grayson answered simply.
His voice was remarkably calm and cold. Implacable. He saw Ryder close his eyes for a moment. He knew. Weryn knew. Fiona nodded once more. She knew as well.
“And what does that mean exactly?” Roan asked waspishly.
“That I cannot–that I cannot be used to move him,” Grayson answered. “That I cannot be bribed. That I cannot be used. That I must sacrifice all to serve him. And that means that I will not allow you to use me and my mother as chess pieces.”
I’m sorry, Mom. I know you can’t hear me. I’m sorry. And I forgive you. I really, truly do. But I don’t know if you can ever forgive me for this.
“You say that so easily! But I have not begun to bargain!” Roan laughed with all sharp edges. “And you have not begun to see what could happen to her.”
“I know what could happen to her,” Grayson said quietly. “And I know that death is not the end so she–”
“Will be imprisoned forever! Forever, Grayson. You think that is what she’s owed for her one mistake?” Roan asked.
The air was icy. Grayson wrapped his arms around himself. His knees felt weak. He needed to sit down. Maybe he needed to lay down. The flame in his chest was but a guttering spark as his father’s nearest–his attempt to get Grayson to listen–were increasing. Ryder was suddenly by his side.
“Stop,” Ryder said. “Ryan, stop.”
He was speaking to Grayson’s father. Begging him to stop. The cold retreated, but Grayson was still ice.
All ice.
“Fiona, we need to return to Nightvallen,” Grayson said dully.
“All of us?” she asked.
“I told you what would happen to your mother if you take me where I don’t want to go,” Roan snarled. “She’ll pay the price!”
Grayson felt the weight of that on his shoulders. “I know.”