Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
THE FIREPLACE IS ROARING IN the library thanks to Kellog’s skills. It’s hot in here, fighting off the chill in the house. It’s late at night. I sit in an oversized chair, Rath keeping me company on the couch while Ian showers or sleeps or mopes. I’m trying to give him space to cope.
“Do you think it was an affair?” I ask as I study the flames.
“I do not think anything about that aspect of the situation,” Rath says. “It is the implications of him being alive that concerns me.”
“How do you mean?” I ask, stealing a glance in his direction. His eyes are reflective, staring at the flames. I imagine the late night conversations that must have taken place in this very room between him and my father. The things they must have discussed. The loyalty that ran so deep.
I’m ever jealous that Rath got time with my father and I did not.
Suddenly, he looks at me. “You began plotting a game of power because Jasmine took from you what you valued most. The valuee is returned to you. What is your intent now?”
I don’t have an answer for him, so I stare at him for a very long time. Absentmindedly, I reach for the key that hangs from my neck and turn it over and over between my fingers.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I’m angry. What she did and everything she does is so…manipulative and entitled. I think the most important thing that’s come from the last few days is that I’ve realized that I am no longer afraid of the House.”
My chest feels lighter just saying the words.
Because it’s the truth. For the past few months, I’ve been scared.
I’ve been their pawn. No more. “I think many things changed the night Ian died. I went to the House that night prepared to die. I faced the reality of my own death that night and I accepted it. I’m not saying I look forward to my death, but I don’t think I’m scared of it anymore. ”
“That is a dangerous fear to loose, my dear Alivia,” Rath says. He leans forward, his black eyes fixed on me.
“But it’s a fact, dangerous or not.” I say it simply. “I’m no longer afraid of the members of the House killing me. And I’m not scared of Jasmine.”
Rath twirls the ring he always wears between his fingers. It’s huge and bulky, and, no surprise, it bears the Conrath raven crest. “And what do you want to do with these realizations?”
I shake my head again. “I don’t know that, either. But I think I need to prepare for the arrival of the King. Sooner rather than later. I think he might have sent spies to watch me.”
I realized it earlier as I studied my crown on the desk in the office. Jasmine thinks she already knows me. Why would she need a spy? The faceless enemy with the snake brand should have no concern over me.
But if word started to leak out into the vampire world that a Royal Born might have a daughter, the King certainly would have a reason to spy on me.
“If this is true,” Rath says, suddenly sliding his ring back into place, “then I think you need to seriously consider those names on your allegiance board. With the King coming, you will need strength at your side.”
“So, is this the beginning?” I ask quietly. I twirl another glossy puzzle piece between my fingers. I found it lying on the floor just outside my bedroom just an hour ago. This one features a corner of Ian’s booted feet and a chunk of the porch.
“The beginning of what?” Rath asks.
“A revolution.”
I HAVE TO CONSIDER EVERY aspect of this situation.
A few days ago, I told Jasmine that I was going to take the House from her. It was an act of revenge—take from her what she loved in exchange for taking from me what I loved. Circumstances have changed, but now I need her vampires to protect myself from the King.
How do I make my first move? I know I will start with Lillian.
But how do I reach her and how do I ask her to come to my side?
I don’t have her phone number—I certainly can’t just call her up at the House.
And while I think she’s an ally, I’ve learned that people, or rather vampires, are not always what they seem from the outside.
Can I really count on her leaving Jasmine?
There are seven members of Jasmine’s House. Can I gain them all before the King arrives?
A weighty consideration: if the King is coming, am I safer to resurrect sooner than later?
I’ve heard of his games and demented sense of entertainment.
Hunting humans, vampires fighting other vampires to the death.
This human body is weak. If I’ve learned anything about myself in the past few months of living in Silent Bend, it’s that I need to take matters into my own hands.
Can I also take my own life?
There is a small whisper inside of me saying not yet to my impending death.
One of my biggest concerns in all of this is Ian.
How is he going to react to all of this? To all of my plans? I want him at my side. I’m desperate for his support. For his acceptance.
But it’s a stupid question.
Ian is going to hate every bit of it.
Sunday evening, we sit in a nest of blankets and pillows on the floor of the ballroom, looking out the giant glass doors that let out onto the veranda and gaze out over the river. We don’t touch, we simply sit side by side. Quiet. Observant.
It’s twilight. The sun has set and everything is cast only in a dim glow. I know even this much is painful for Ian, but here he is, with me.
“You’ve been distracted lately,” he observes.
I glance over at him. He isn’t looking back at me.
He’s just staring out, I think at Henry and Elijah’s above ground tombs.
“I kind of thought you’d be busy telling me not to hate myself and that none of this is my fault, but you haven’t.
I’m grateful for it, but it just seems out of character. What’s on your mind, Liv?”
I look away from him, back outside. My eyes scan the trees, the scrubs. I search for spying eyes, the same as I’ve been doing since I was in the cemetery. “I need to tell you something that is happening, and I need you to keep an open mind.”
“I don’t particularly like the sound of that.” He admits it harshly.
“Don’t be an ass, Ian,” I growl at him. “This is serious, and I have to handle it as an adult and as a Conrath.”
He must not like the sound of that, either, because he doesn’t say anything. The thin line of his lips just becomes thinner.
I’m annoyed, but it’s hard to be too much so when it’s a miracle that he’s even sitting here for us to be able to have this conversation. “Someone has been watching me.”
“Like the House spying on you? They’ve been doing that for months,” he says.
I shake my head. “I was with Sheriff McCoy when it happened. He’s the one who actually saw him. Luke didn’t know the man.”
“So you haven’t actually seen anyone spying on you?”
“Yesterday, I know I saw someone disappear into the trees. I’d just gotten dressed and looked out the window in my bedroom.
There was someone there.” I reach into my back pocket and pull out the puzzle pieces.
A third one was taped to the front door earlier today.
This one has pieces of me, as well as the bag Beth had packed for me when I hid at Ian’s house.
I lay the pieces together on the floor in front of Ian. There’s still two pieces missing, but the picture is clear.
“Ian,” I say quietly. I want to reach over and take his hand, to give it a reassuring squeeze or something, but his reactions still have me on edge. “I don’t think it’s someone from around here.”
He takes a moment to process this, studying the picture. To mull over what it means. “This is the day I brought you back to the Estate,” he says. He touches the edge of one of the pieces. “Liv, this was months ago. Who…who took this?”
I look back into his eyes, waiting for him to put the mental pieces together. “The King. He sent a spy.”
I nod. “Somehow, he got wind that Henry Conrath might have a child. And you know why he would have interest in checking out a female royal heir.”
We’ve both heard the story now. Of how King Cyrus cursed himself and his pregnant wife when he changed her to a vampire against her will.
She would wither and die after certain amounts of time.
It was a mystery how long she would stay dead for, but eventually, she would be reborn in the royal line, as a new person with a new face.
Once that female died and resurrected, she would eventually start remembering her past lives and the King would once again be reunited with his Queen.
Queen Sevan has been dead for more than two hundred and seventy years. I can almost feel the urgency of the King. Surely, she must resurrect soon after being gone for such a long time.
“I’m not saying that I’m afraid of the King.” My heart starts racing, anxiety and dread overcoming me at finally confessing what I haven’t wanted to tell him. “But I feel vastly alone. Like he is this giant wave that is coming to crush me, and I am a tiny, lone ant on the beach.”
“You’re not alone,” he says with annoyance as he looks at me with offense. “I’m here. And Rath certainly counts for something.”
“I am well aware of the capabilities of you both,” I say, attempting to stay calm and even. “And I am very grateful to have you both here. But…I wonder if just the two of you will be enough.”
“What are you implying, Liv?” The tone of his voice drops lower and lower with each syllable.
I don’t look up at him for quite a long time. I trace my finger along the pattern in the blanket, swirling, connecting, through folds and canyons in its surface.
I hate this feeling—the feeling of shame and guilt.
I am a Conrath.
I am a Royal Born.
I am a ruler.
I should have no shame. No guilt. I do what I have to do.
“I’m going to build my own House. It’s time for the House of Conrath to be restored.”
He stares at me a long moment. I watch the muscles clench in his jaw, see the way his shoulders tense. The frustration that builds behind those eyes that can’t lie. “No good will come from it. You’ve seen what Jasmine has done to this town.”
“I am not Jasmine,” I say through clenched teeth. “I need allies, Ian. And you’ve said it, Lillian said it, and even Markov implied it. That this is what I was born to do. That I will be great at it.”
Ian is angry. He’s a mess right now and I just poured a gallon of salt on his wounds. I understand.
That doesn’t mean his harsh disapproval doesn’t sting.
Instead of using biting words and yelling this out, he only stands and walks away.
Leaving me alone.
Again.