43
BEING HANDLED
IVY
H enry carries me through the castle, ignoring my suggestion that I’m able to walk. He’s been territorial and even Matt and Ryan have been cautious. There’s not been a moment I’ve been left alone and few when he hasn’t been touching me, and I’ve needed almost every second of his attention to get through the hell I’ve endured.
I still catch his guilt-ridden looks, his shameful glances.
They break my heart and I doubt they’re going away anytime soon.
Henry’s caused me more suffering than Marcus and he feels guilty about my pain. He was always going to turn me, but he regrets taking the choice from me and wishes it was easier. But he isn’t sorry about what he did or the result and that’s never going to change.
He saved my life and gave me another .
It’s confusing and I need time, but we don’t have that today. Right now, we need to survive a meeting neither of us wants to have. One involving Emmanuel and the high priests he’s allowed to live.
“Deacon,” Henry says, in a tone as cold as ice.
Emmanuel rises, followed by the other priests and vampires. Even Matt and Ryan get to their feet, bowing their heads as Henry carries me past. He places me on the chair, sits and slides his arm over my shoulder as he pulls me against him.
It’s both territorial and supportive, and my insides flip.
“Behave, lea. We have guests.”
Matt coughs and Ryan smirks, both enjoying Emmanuel’s discomfort.
“Henry, we have a problem.”
My heart tries to skip a beat before remembering it no longer pulses. I suck air between my teeth anyway, drawing everyone’s attention as my anxiety resurfaces and refuses to die. Henry doesn’t react, except to stare at Emmanuel like he’s more than a minor inconvenience and his irritation flows in me. I tense and he strokes my arm, soothing me as I settle back down again.
“What is it this time?”
“The Brotherhood is in disarray,” Emmanuel says, fraught with tension.
“That was your intention.” Ryan leans forward, reaching for a glass containing something other than whisky. “You allied with us to make this happen, Emmanuel. It’s too late to regret the consequences of your choices.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t, Ryan. But it’s going to take time to rebuild. With Marcus and Rowan gone, there’s a power vacuum and tensions are already mounting. ”
“We’re well aware.”
Matt sighs as he reaches for his glass, bringing it close enough to me to catch my attention before he drinks from it. He stops, stares at me, and slides it across the side table, removing the temptation before I succumb to the cravings building inside of me.
“It’s being handled,” Henry says, wrapping his arm around my neck before I get any more ideas. “Did we track Damon down? That cunt disappeared while I was turning Ivy, and he owes me a fucking explanation.”
Emmanuel shakes his head. “We haven’t found him, Henry. We’re still searching, even though we’re dealing with the small matter of dismantling the Brotherhood amidst an onslaught of errant priests.”
Henry snarls and his temper rises, burning in both our chests as it spreads into me. He’s infuriated by the lack of information, annoyed I might still be in danger from something or someone he simply can’t get a handle on. There’s enough fire inside him to burn through the coldest winter and every vampire present responds, shifting uncomfortably as Henry makes his feelings known.
He'll go to the ends of the earth to find Damon and there’s not a single stone he’ll leave unturned. Henry wants answers and he wants them now, and he’ll be damned if he lets a minor inconvenience like Damon’s disappearance stand in the way of protecting me.
The door of the grand hall swings open and its hinges sing a song of warning as right on fucking cue, Damon walks through them. Matt and Ryan jump to their feet and Henry snarls, enraged by the unexpected and unannounced arrival. The priests rise and their eyes widen as the color drains from their faces, immediately aware this meeting became a disaster that could result in catastrophe .
Damon raises his hand awkwardly and smiles. As if he’s going for a walk in a fucking park.
“I came to see how you’re doing, Ivy?”
Matt steps in front of me and his snarl sends a shiver down my spine.
“If I’d wanted to hurt Ivy, I’d have done it a long time ago,” Damon says, ignoring the growling from Ryan as he sighs loudly. “And I certainly wouldn’t have saved her life on several fucking occasions.”
The man is playing a dangerous game as he steps to one side, pulling a chair out from underneath a table and sitting on it. Damon’s dark eyes light with amusement as he raises his hands, waiting as if he expects the tension to fall.
It doesn’t and even Henry’s riled enough to let it show.
“You’ve got a fucking nerve,” Ryan snarls. “She almost died in the woods after you fucked off. After you led her into danger and then swanned off somewhere when things got a bit tricky.”
“I didn’t swan off anywhere.” Damon’s far too fucking aloof, and neither Matt nor Ryan like it. “You didn’t notice me while you were busy failing to manage the situation. I tipped things in your favor, and Ivy was doing a perfectly fine job of dispatching Rowan’s imbeciles with those blades I gave her.”
“SHE. ALMOST. DIED.”
Ryan’s voice echoes around the room and everyone takes a deep breath as his anger ripples through the air.
“No, she didn’t. You almost died and then Ivy did something so fucking stupid I almost had to intervene.” Damon’s eyes snap to mine and the light they contain almost obliterates their darkness. “Don’t ever do anything that stupid again. Quite apart from the fact you almost ruined everything, Henry won’t let it slide a second time. ”
My jaw drops and it forms a perfect circle.
Damon grins and shakes his head. “You haven’t figured it out then.” He sighs as he runs his hands through his thick, dark hair. “I thought Emmanuel would have by now, but it appears he’s slowing in his old age.”
The priests shift and our attention turns back to them. They’re ghostly pale and Emmanuel is about to pass out. He’s finally figured out whatever Damon’s on about and he isn’t barely clinging to consciousness. The life drains from him and my instincts tell me he’d be an easy kill.
It’s tempting. Almost too tempting.
“Am I going to tell them, Deacon, or will you?”
Damon’s voice is a challenge to Emmanuel’s authority and he fails to meet it. He shakes his head feebly, swallowing dry air as his fingers whiten to alabaster as they cling to the armrest of his chair. He’s crumbling in front of us and his weakness is the reason why the Brotherhood needs rebuilding, brick by brick. Priest by priest. Under someone else’s leadership.
“I assume he at least told you about the prophecy?”
Henry nods and sits forward. “I don’t enjoy these games, Damon. Get the fuck on with it before I slit your fucking throat and bleed you like a stuck pig.”
The talk of blood must be making my head unusually light, and I sway, distracted by the thought of feeding until my senses heighten and my body sings with pleasure. My thoughts run wild and my mouth moves without instruction, remembering the words Henry and I have recited a thousand times as we tried to understand what they meant for us. For our future.
“A mortal and a vampire will have a child who’ll change everything.” I’m mumbling .
Damon nods. “I assume you think you’re the mortal heart?”
I nod back.
“You’re not, Ivy.” He pauses as my face falls, panicking Henry is disappointed with me. “You’re the child.”
The silence speaks louder than any storm and the one swirling inside me threatens to devastate my soul. A hurricane breezes through me and nothing makes sense anymore and my emotions hurtle around a center I’m struggling to contain.
Henry growls and pulls me against him, threatened by Damon’s interference. He’s determined to keep me safe and his violence might be as vicious as the gales threatening to carry me away, but he’ll never let me come to harm. Henry will consume me, but he won’t destroy me. He’ll mold me, but he won’t change me. He’ll grow with me as we move through our seasons and we’ll find our balance, always in equilibrium even though we’re always shifting.
“I think by now you know your father wasn’t your father, Ivy.” Damon waits until I’m steady and his head tilts to the left. “And I think it’s somewhat obvious I’m not a normal mortal.” He leans forward as he demands the attention of the whole room, and everyone’s eyes lock on the man who holds us hostage with his silence. “I was a priest. A powerful one. Until I chose a different path. I left to serve your father and ensure this prophecy was fulfilled. I’ve watched over you for years, kept you safe, kept you secret. Guided you without you realizing it.”
I swallow and try to find the courage to ask the question everyone’s waiting for me to ask. The one that might be more than I can bear to know the answer to. The one that’s going to change the way I think about myself and might change how Henry sees me.
“It won’t change a fucking thing,” Henry says, staring down at me in adoration. “It doesn’t matter who your father is, Ivy. My love is unconditional and it is unbreakable. It has no limits and knows no boundaries. It is a madness I will never allow to end, and it will only grow and deepen with every passing day. There’s no you and me, lea, only us, and my love is not a fragile thing that could ever be broken, let alone by this.”
I blush, and he smiles, resting his forehead on mine.
He’s perfectly imperfect for me and my doubts evaporate as my anxiety eases. His warmth heats my core and I find a peace I’ve rarely known, calming in his stillness as his soul shelters me from the whirlwind of my emotions.
“Do you wish to know?” Damon asks.
I nod and Henry’s chest tenses.
“Your father is Matt’s sire,” he says and time stands still. “It’s why you connect with him and why he understands you. It’s why the four of you balance each other and find an equilibrium. Henry with Ryan, Matt with you.”
We stare at Damon and then at each other. My eyes dart between Henry, Matt, and Ryan, looking for a reaction. Any reaction. Anything that’ll reassure me this isn’t a complete disaster. That we’re going to make it through this and it won’t take centuries to fix.
I’ve endured more than I thought possible and formed bonds I barely understand. They run deep, but they’re complicated, weaving our souls together in a tapestry with an intricate pattern I can’t divine. I don’t want to lose them, and the thought of being parted makes my soul scream in pain. We’ve fought too hard and become too close to let things fall apart, but the implications of this are more than I understand and this could shatter everything.
I’m standing on the beach, watching the tidal wave recede, praying I’m mistaken and it won’t drown me when it hits. It’s an agony that hurts as much as any torture and I wait, expecting the executioner's blade to fall on our relationships.
“You’re my partner and I’ll be damned if I let you leave,” Ryan says, pulling Matt toward him.
Matt wraps his arms around Ryan, and their bodies say more than their words ever could. There’s absolute trust and complete loyalty, a connection they’ll fight for until their time runs out, and even then I pity the idiot who tries to take it from them.
Their connection is as strong as ours and their heads turn in unison, smiling as they stare at us with the same determination.
“I’m not leaving her alone with you,” Ryan adds. “You’re a fucking idiot and someone has to knock some fucking sense into you.”
Henry growls and I fail to avoid smirking.
“Ryan’s right. She’s far too good for you and you’ll only fuck it up without the pair of us around to make sure you don’t.”
I giggle and Henry has the grace to let the moment be, allowing his pride to be wounded for the sake of our friends. Ryan and Matt grin as they adjust their positions, sitting as intimately as we are, and the tension in the room eases away.
“We can talk about it later, lea,” Henry says. “Matt can tell you all about your father, and I’m sure Ryan will be delighted to explain exactly how he and I fell out.”
“You were a twat, Henry. That’s all there is to it.”
Henry growls and the pair of them smirk, enjoying whatever joke they’re having at Henry’s expense. We relax and laugh, enjoying ourselves as if it were any other afternoon and this was a conversation between four friends. Close friends who occasionally fuck in the presence of each other and whose bonds were formed over more lifetimes than I dare to imagine .
The spell’s broken when Emmanuel coughs and Damon frowns, irritated the moment’s taken from me. There’ll be others and I have time to discover the answers to the questions rushing through my head, each as pressing as the others, all leaving my head struggling to keep up.
Damon stands and walks toward the center of the room, taking his place as if he were addressing a court. His eyes glance over the paintings lining the wall, briefly admiring Henry’s collection as he bides his time, picking his moment.
As if he’s about to make the world shift on its axis.
“When Ivy killed Rowan and Marcus, she upended centuries of alliances, and the weaker covens are about to declare war. It’ll spill into an all-out conflict unless something is done. Unless someone seizes power.” Damon’s dark brown eyes meet the fury in Henry’s pale blue ones, and neither gives an inch.
“No.”
“Ivy killed Rowan and Marcus, and now she’s made you King. She’s returned you to your rightful place, Henry, and you’ll claim the throne that you should have taken when you killed your sire. Order will be restored and the prophecy fulfilled.” Damon arches his eyebrow. “Emmanuel will take the throne unless you do, Henry. It’s why he’s here. To seize power without shedding blood.”
Henry shakes his head and gets to his feet, pacing furiously to find a way out. It’s him or Emmanuel, and he doesn’t like the thought of either. The lines of his face deepen and his features sharpen as he finds himself facing a decision he didn’t see coming and one he doesn’t want.
“Accept the throne, Henry. With Ivy at your side and the priesthood beneath you.”
“I’m not an emperor.”
“You are now,” Damon says, smiling with the confidence of a man who’s certain of his convictions. “It fulfills the prophecy, but more importantly, it keeps your mate safe. If you won’t do it for your coven or the other vampires, you’ll do it for her.”
He looks at me and smiles, softening his expression while Henry seethes. His eyes blaze with indignation, beyond furious he’s being forced into a position he doesn’t want and can’t abide. It’s been an eternity since Henry was outmaneuvered and the only thing stopping him from lashing out at Damon is his need to protect me.
Because despite it all, Henry recognizes that Damon’s on my side. He’s still protecting me now, and although Henry doesn’t like it, he respects it. They’re staring at each other, both lions in their prime, both silently marking their territory and making their boundaries clear. Their roars are silent and their muscles flex, both backing down before they injure the other in a fight for supremacy.
“He adores you, Ivy. Worships you. It’s nice to see you happy. I’ll leave you to settle with Henry and then we’ll talk about what, if any, involvement the pair of you want me to have in your future.” He steps back and glares at Emmanuel. “If any of you fuckers so much as think about trying anything on, you’ll answer to me.”
“Where are you going?” I ask.
Damon flicks his eyes to mine. “Away. I’ve spent a lifetime serving one Master and I think I’ve earned a fucking holiday before I serve another. I’ll pop back in when I’m done, and we can talk about anything you’d like. I’m not quite done with you yet.”
My mouth falls open as he turns and walks away, leaving me speechless and the room in stunned silence. Time restarts itself as I turn to Henry, unsure what decision he’s reached. I can sense the turmoil inside him and he stares at me, finding clarity as our souls connect and our emotions align .
“I’m afraid you can’t have those blades back, Ivy. You’ll do far too much damage with them, and I’ve already spent too much time sorting out your messes. It’s Henry’s turn to stand guard, and I wish him luck.”
Damon stops in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder before he leaves. His gaze is warm and I wonder what advice he’s going to give me, hoping it’ll be something useful. Something warm. Something a parent gives a child before they finally fly the nest.
His grin widens and the mischievous glint returns to his eyes.
“He’ll need it.”