Chapter 15
15
H enry and I were quiet on the carriage ride to my house. Tension rolled off the Lord in waves as I sat across from him, dumbfounded by what I’d learned about my mother. She’d been Vincent’s vassal and then kept in touch with him. Henry even believed they’d been looking for the amulet together. Vincent had cared enough about my mother to try to rescue her from the Dark Witches. Tonight’s revelations had made it clear I hadn’t known my mother as well as I’d thought.
My chest ached, but I refused to let my emotions take over. Instead, I dared a peek at Henry, who was staring out the window, his eyes shuttered and his jaw hard. He’d told me before that Vincent was like a father to him, and now he was dead because of the lie my father and I had told. My heart turned over heavily in my chest at the realization that what my father and I had done was causing Henry’s anguish. The Lord must have felt me looking at him because he turned from the window and met my gaze. We stared at each other for a few minutes without saying a word.
I broke the silence first when I cleared my throat and said, “I’d understand if what you said earlier about helping me find the Tear has changed.”
“It hasn’t. I will still help you look for it,” Henry said before turning back to the window. “That’s what Vincent would have wanted.”
When the carriage stopped before my house, I took a deep breath, preparing to explain myself to my father. Henry stepped out first before turning around and extending his hand to help me out. My brows lifted in surprise as I lowered my foot to the carriage step and placed my hand in his. I hadn’t expected him to still be civil with me after what I’d revealed. I wasn’t sure I would be able to show the same grace if the situations were reversed. The Lord dropped my hand the moment I was out of the carriage, turning to face the weathered front of my childhood home.
I rapped my knuckles on the old wooden door and waited, taking another steadying breath.
My father’s eyes widened in shock when he opened the door.
“What is the meaning of this?” he asked, looking between Henry and me, his tone guarded.
“It’s okay, father. I can explain once we’re inside,” I said calmly, trying to put him at ease.
He stared at me for a moment as if waiting for a sign that I was under duress. When I gave none, he opened the door wider and let us in.
“Henry, this is my father, Thomas Devereaux,” I said after we’d stepped inside.
The house did not have a foyer, so we were standing in the small but cozy living room illuminated by two lamps and the glow from the fireplace.
“Lord Duval.” My father inclined his head in a half-bow, giving Henry a wary look from beneath his gray eyebrows.
I could tell he was on edge in the vampire’s presence, and I didn’t blame him. I hated bringing Henry here and putting my father through this, but the Lord had been adamant about not letting me out of his sight.
Henry gave a curt nod, his features sharpening, and I wondered if he was considering ripping out my father’s throat for lying about my mother’s death.
“I’d like to speak with my father in private,” I told Henry, coming to stand in front of him in an attempt to block my father from his view.
Henry looked around the living room.
“Where do you expect me to go?”
“Actually, you can stay here. My father and I will talk in the study.”
“Whatever you have to say to him, I’m sure I need to hear it as well,” Henry insisted.
He clearly didn’t want to leave me and my father in private because he didn’t trust me. I didn’t trust him either.
“I just want to talk to him about my mother,” I said low, looking into the Lord’s eyes, pleading with him to understand. “Please.”
Henry’s gaze softened even as a muscle flexed along his jaw.
“Okay, just don’t take long,” he conceded.
With a nod, I turned from Henry and walked with my father to my mother’s old study. I had mixed feelings about this room. Some days, I couldn’t bring myself to step foot into this space where I’d found my mother dead in the arms of a vampire. On other days, this room brought me comfort. After all, I’d spent most of my childhood here. Even now, I could picture my mother hunched over her desk as she worked while I played or read, sharing in on the comfortable, silent companionship.
My father had taken over the study after my mother’s death and had been spending most of his time here ever since. He needed the space to work, but I also wondered if being in this room made him feel closer to her somehow. A few weeks after her death, I’d helped him sort through and organize her things. Now, a year later, the study looked as cluttered as when my mother had used it. Copious books sat stacked precariously on the desk while various maps, papers, and notes littered the floor.
“Sophie, what’s going on? Why did you bring the Lord here?” my father whispered as soon as he closed the study door behind us.
“I…” I paused, looking around the cramped space.
Only a few days had passed since I’d last stepped foot in the study, but it had felt like years. With everything I’d seen and experienced, I felt like a different person. My gaze landed on the portrait of my mother on the wall, her hazel eyes so much like mine, watching me as if waiting to see what I would do next. My heart squeezed in my chest. I didn’t blame her for having secrets from me. I couldn’t. I had to trust she had her reasons.
“Did you know that Mother was Vincent Duval’s vassal when she was eighteen?” I asked, strolling to the cluttered desk.
I realized then that it didn’t matter what my father would say. Even if he had known and hadn’t told me, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change the past, just like it didn’t affect the future.
“Sophie…” my father said from behind me, his voice hoarse.
I closed my eyes and took a breath—he’d known.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked as calmly as I could, opening my eyes and moving some papers around on the desk until I found a blank sheet.
I picked up a pen and began writing.
“Your mother and I…we tried to protect you from that world as much as possible. And when she died…well, I didn’t think it really mattered anymore. And I think…I think I was still trying to protect you even though you hadn’t needed my protection for a while now,” my father said, coming to stand beside me by the desk.
The Tear is not on the Duval Estate, I wrote on the paper.
“It’s okay, father,” I said as I put the pen’s tip on the note and moved it across the desk toward my father.
When he looked down and read it, his brows lifted in shock.
The Lord said he’d help me look for it, I wrote next.
“Why would he—” my father started, but I brought my index finger to my lips and then tapped it to my ear.
He has his reasons. He thinks it only destroys the Dark Witches, I wrote. I don’t trust him, but I’m staying on the estate to figure out the next move.
My father gave a nod of understanding before staring at me with a look of awe on his wrinkled face.
“I’m…” He cleared his throat as his eyes glimmered with tears. “I’m just so proud of you,” he rasped, pulling me into a tight embrace.
I found that being in his arms still grounded me. He’d withheld the information about my mother being Vincent’s vassal from me, but I didn’t hold it against him. I could understand why he’d done it as much as I could understand doing something to protect your child without having any children of my own. I still loved him and always would. Just like I didn’t love my mother any less for hiding things from me when I’d thought we’d told each other everything.
A knock drew my attention to the study door as I pulled away from my father.
“Come in,” I said, glancing at the note on the table.
My father promptly picked it up and shoved it in his pant pocket.
Henry walked in a moment later.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. I was just wondering if…” His gaze fastened on mine. “If I could see where it happened.”
I swallowed to relieve the tightness in my throat as my father gave me a questioning look.
“Henry knows what really happened that night,” I explained.
A look of terror rippled across my father’s features as his eyes darted to the Lord. He widened his stance as if preparing to fight.
“Relax, Thomas. If I were a threat to you, you’d be dead already,” Henry stated calmly.
He didn’t sound arrogant, just confident. The words were spoken with the self-assurance of an apex predator, causing a shiver to curl down my spine. What was it like to be that powerful?
“It happened here,” I said low. “In the study.”
I told Henry about the night of my mother’s death again in every painful detail, showing him where the killer had stood and where I’d found the note.
“I want to see it,” Henry said, looking at me.
I tensed, my mind racing. The note was right here with us, in the safe hidden behind my mother’s portrait, but I couldn’t let the Lord see it because it would reveal I’d lied to him and that the Tear could also kill vampires.
“We destroyed it,” my father said hastily next to me.
Henry glanced at him before his gaze returned to me, and I wondered if he knew that we were lying. I stared back at him, waiting for him to confront me.
“Are you ready to go?” he said instead, turning to leave.
I quickly said goodbye to my father and followed the Lord out into the night. The scent of rain hung heavy in the air as we loaded into the carriage.
As we traveled back to the mansion, the moonlight seeping through the carriage window caressed Henry’s cheekbones and brow, making his profile flawless and severe. I wondered what he was thinking as the steady hum of rain filled the air outside the carriage.
“I’m sorry you had to witness your mother’s death,” the Lord said after a while, catching me by surprise.
I gave a small nod, unable to admit out loud that night would forever haunt my dreams.
“I’m sorry about Vincent. If I could go back and not tell that lie, I would,” I said quietly.
Henry scoffed and shook his head. “Do us both a favor, and do not lie to me now. Vincent was a vampire. With him dead, it is now one less of us. You wouldn’t go back and change that,” he said bitterly. “You hate us. At least now I know why.”
I opened my mouth to deny his allegations but then clamped it shut. I wasn’t sure he was entirely wrong in his assumption.
We spent the next few minutes in uncomfortable silence.
I finally broke it by asking, “Compulsion. How does it work?”
“It is a special power some vampires have,” Henry replied. “We can bend a human’s will to ours.”
Another advantage vampires bore over humans. I gritted my teeth, thinking about how outmatched we truly were.
“You said some vampires. So, not all of you can do it?”
“It is a skill that takes practice. Usually, older vampires can do it, and the older they are, the better they are at it. Ravagers wouldn’t know how to compel.”
That was a relief. Still, the fact that some vampires could compel was wrong on so many levels. If someone like Stern could do it, there was no doubt in my mind that he often abused that power.
“You used compulsion on Eleanor when she showed up at the mansion?” I asked, recalling her strange behavior after Henry had talked to her.
“I did.”
“Have you ever used it on me before tonight?” I asked and held my breath, not entirely sure what I would do if he said “yes”. I couldn’t go back and change the past if the Lord had compelled me before to do something against my will. I would just have to live with the knowledge that had happened. I thought I still wanted to know, though.
“No. I don’t like resorting to compulsion. It feels…wrong. Like a violation.”
A breath of relief left me, and I realized I wasn’t all that surprised to hear Henry say he didn’t like to use compulsion. I really should be counting my blessings that I’d ended up as his vassal and not someone like Stern or Moreau.
“It is incredibly invasive,” I agreed. “Can you promise not to use it on me again?”
I knew I didn’t have the right to ask Henry that in light of recent events and didn’t expect him to make that promise.
“Yes,” he said, surprising me.
“Thank you,” I said, and I meant it. I had no guarantee he would keep his word, but for some reason, I wanted to believe him. “Do you have any idea where we go from here?” I asked, hopeful the Lord had something in mind.
Vincent Duval had been my only link to the Tear besides the “power of three”, and now that I knew the amulet was not on the Duval Estate, I wasn’t sure what my next step should be.
“Yes,” Henry said hesitantly, briefly closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Yes?” I asked, sitting up straighter on the edge of my seat.
“I think Stern might have been involved with what happened to your mother.”