House of Pawns (House of Royals #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter

One

“LIV,” IAN GROWLS IN SOMETHING low and feral and afraid. He either falls forward or lunges at me, I’m not sure which, but suddenly his hands are gripping my shoulders with an entirely new strength.

I’ll be bruised later.

Ian’s nose traces my shoulder, up toward my neck. Maybe he’s just catching his balance, all of him suddenly too close, but an instinctual part of me says those fangs of his are searching for their first meal.

I’m too stunned to react.

The warmth of his body is instantly ripped away and there’s a great clattering sound as Ian and Rath collide into one of the ancient entry tables.

A feral hiss rips from Ian’s throat and his hands gather the front of Rath’s shirt, pulling their faces a breath apart. But one of Rath’s hands has wrapped around Ian’s throat, his fingers deep in his flesh; the other hand holds a stake pressed hard up against Ian’s ribcage.

“Rath, no!” I scream, darting across the entryway. I claw at both their arms, attempting to force myself between the two of them. “Ian, stop!”

“Are you in control?” Rath demands. I see his fingers constrict around Ian’s throat. I pull at his arm with as much strength as I have, but it doesn’t budge a millimeter.

“No,” Ian hisses. And with his reply, his glowing red eyes meet mine. They’re terrifying. A vampire’s eyes only ignite when they’re angry or hungry, and Ian’s are the brightest I’ve yet seen. Black veins sprout from them over his face. “I swear I won’t hurt you, Liv.”

“Let him go, Rath!” My voice is frantic. There are tears threatening to spill. They’re happy, relieved, confused, even angry. “Let him go!”

Rath shakes his head because Ian swipes at him like he’s a rabid jaguar. Rath takes five aggressive steps forward, backing Ian into a wall. Ian’s head smacks into the plaster with a crack. “He’ll be out of control until he feeds. I’m sorry, Alivia, I don’t have any other choice right now.”

Rath reaches into his pocket, jabs something into the side of Ian’s neck, and not a second later, Ian collapses to the ground, with a howl of pain as his body contorts in spasms.

Elle’s toxin.

I swear under my breath and collapse to the marble floor next to Ian. A demented wail escapes his throat. His fangs are fully extended and his eyes open again to stare uncomprehending at the chandelier above us.

“Ian,” I choke out. “How… You can’t be…”

“What is happening?” Rath growls as he straightens himself back out. He knows Ian is no longer a threat, so he takes a moment to compose himself. “This… Him as a vampire is an abomination! He… This is only possible if his father is a Born!”

I look back down at Ian, dressed in the paramedic uniform we buried him in, covered in dirt, and shake my head in confusion. Ian clenches his teeth together tightly, taking breaths in harsh, shallow, quick pulls. His eyes are screwed shut. Black veins still cover his face.

“Ian, can you hear me?” I ask as I place a hand on his shoulder.

His hand snaps around my wrist, nearly crushing my bones with its strength. A scream leaps into my throat as Rath swings an arm between us, driving a stake deep into the flesh of Ian’s wrist.

Another howl of pain from Ian leaves my eardrums feeling as if they’ve exploded. He cradles his bleeding and obviously broken wrist to his chest.

“I won’t…” he tries to speak. “I don’t want…to hurt her.”

“You may not want to,” Rath says through clenched teeth. “But every instinct in you is telling you to kill her right now. You’ll drain her dry the second you get the opportunity and it’ll happen before you even realize your teeth have sunk into her artery.”

Ian sucks in another painful hiss and his eyes shift to mine. Everything in them tells me as much as he will try to fight against it, he’ll do what Rath said.

“Ian,” I breathe as a single tear breaks out onto my cheek. “You’re alive.”

But instead of softening, instead of nodding and placing his hand gently on my cheek like I want him to, his eyes just harden. He looks away from me. “No, I’m not.” The words are gravel in the middle of the roughest road on the darkest night.

“You resurrected.” I have no comforting words right now. My brain has not caught up to speed with this impossible twist yet.

“We have a situation to deal with right now,” Rath says, interrupting my thoughts that are nothing close to coherent. “He’ll need to feed. Soon. And, he’ll need a lot of blood.”

“Jasmine said the first feeding is a draining one,” I say as I feel all of my own blood seep toward my feet. “She brought me him to feed on.”

Rath nods. He crosses to Ian and grabs him by an ankle. At just the touch, Ian screams in pain. But he can’t move more than to curl into the fetal position. Violent shakes rip through his body.

“What are you doing?” I demand as I follow Rath.

He drags Ian down the hall of the south wing.

“We need to control him until we can figure things out.” He stops at a huge portrait of three women in beautiful, ancient dresses.

Rath swings it out away from the wall, revealing what is almost an imperceptible door. He presses it in and it pops back out.

He swings it open, and before I can rush forward to see what is hidden there, he flings Ian inside, and Ian disappears.

There’s a scream, and then a thud with a crunch and a splash.

“Ian!” I scream as I rush forward. And stop just at the precipice.

The door opens up into a small space. There is no floor. What looks like a stone well drops straight down, probably twenty feet. I can barely see Ian at the bottom, lying in the fetal position in a puddle at least eight inches deep.

“He might drown down there, Rath!” I scream. “He can barely move!”

“A vampire cannot drown,” Rath says as he breathes hard. He doesn’t meet my eyes, but pulls his cell phone from his pocket and starts scrolling through contacts. “This will keep him contained until I get back.”

“Release him,” I demand. Rath closes the door, nearly slicing my arm off as it slides closed, and I realize it’s made of solid metal. I hear a heavy sounding click, like a lock sliding into place. It’s clear: the door only opens from the outside. “Where are you going?”

“To get dinner for your resurrected, Born vampire boyfriend.” His voice drips with malice. I dart down the hall, jogging to keep up with Rath.

“We’re just going to grab someone off the streets for him to drain?” I ask in horror. Rath turns for the garage and grabs the keys to the Ferrari.

All signs of his limp from a few days ago are gone.

“Your father had connections.” And, without another word of explanation, he shuts the door out to the garage in my face.

I place both my hands on the door. I’m breathing hard, quick, sharp pulls, in and out. In. And out.

The engine on the other side of the door roars to life and the garage door opens. The car hums as it back out and then the door closes once again.

It’s a difficult thing, more difficult than it should be, to turn away from the door. To remove my hands. And walk back down the hall.

The painting is still hanging away from the wall. I easily find the door once again now that I know it’s there.

I press in the spot I thought Rath had. Nothing happens. I push on every surface of the door, slam my weight into it.

“Ian!” I yell. I shove my shoulder into the door, but all it does is hurt me. “Ian, can you hear me?”

But if he can, he doesn’t respond. Or his response can’t be heard through the door.

He’s down there, in the water, in the pitch black.

He’s confused.

Thirsty.

Alone.

“Ian,” I whisper against the door. My hands settle on its surface, my forehead resting, as well.

And I just can’t handle anything else.

I break down in sobs.