Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
PART OF MY WORLD
‘Wh-what?’ I lean on the sink, feeling sick.
‘My father? When were you going to tell me that your family executed him? That he was a traitor!’
My mouth opens and closes, but I can’t find the words. Images roll over me, of Mistral bound in spikes and metal, left alone on a frosted dawn. The way his eyes met mine, as I watched him burn.
Anger rises, cutting through the shock. ‘What was I supposed to say? It’s not the kind of thing you just bring up in conversation.’
Michael’s mouth tightens. ‘You should have told me.’ He growls the words. ‘He was my father.’
‘I know. I’m sorry.’ He’s right. I should have told him, and I’m sorry I didn’t. But I cannot be sorry for his father’s death.
‘Sorry? I trusted you. Cared for you. I meant it, what I said on the beach. I’m with you, Emelia Raven. Or I was, anyway.’ He shakes his head.
‘I care for you, too!’ Fear shudders through me at his use of the past tense. ‘And I had my reasons!’ We stare at each other, both breathing hard, the bathroom feeling too small to contain the energy simmering between us.
‘Fuck!’ He turns away, bracing an arm against the wall. ‘When my brothers told me I—’
‘Your brothers?’ I frown.
‘Yeah. They contacted me, yesterday. Told me what your family did to ours.’
Ours? Michael has never felt part of his family.
But if that’s how he wants to play it… ‘What about what your family did to mine?’ I hiss.
‘The North Wind almost killed my father. Kidnapped me and would have killed me, if I hadn’t escaped.
That’s who your father was. A liar and a monster, who couldn’t accept that my mother didn’t love him anymore.
Jessie, that creature who just died in there—’ I point towards the living room ‘—she was like that because of him. Laurel is dead, because of him. I had to kill the first boy I ever loved, because of him, and it almost destroyed me. So excuse me if I don’t feel bad about the fact he got to face the consequences of that! ’
Michael doesn’t say anything for a moment, his throat moving. His dark gaze is unreadable. ‘Did you see it happen?’
I nod. ‘It was quick.’
He huffs out a small breath. ‘Raven mercy, I guess.’
‘There was nothing merciful about it.’ Mistral died a terrible death. I don’t have it in me to sugar-coat that.
‘I know what he did. Who he was. But I deserved to know, Emelia.’
He’s right. Of course he is. But the way he found out… ‘Don’t go back to them, please.’
‘Go back to who?’
‘Your brothers. They … they’re just like him.’
‘Where else am I supposed to go?’ Pain flashes in his eyes.
‘I just…’ Fuck. This isn’t how this was supposed to happen. ‘I’m going home. You could come with me.’
Michael looks at me like I’ve grown another head. ‘Come with you? And what, live in your house like some sort of pet?’
‘Why do you think it would be like that? I want you to be part of my world!’
‘I was part of your world! My mother was a Vindhof. My father was second only to your mother in rank.’ His lips draw back from his teeth, his eyes wild.
‘I had to leave! I didn’t grow up with parents who coddled me, like yours.
Were you even going to tell me you were leaving, or would I have just come back here and found you gone? ’
I flinch. Screw him. ‘Were you going to tell me about your brothers?’ We’re so close to each other, heat swirling between us, both of us almost snarling. But another part of me, the part that was already betrayed, is curling up, withdrawing. ‘Why go back to them, if you hate my world so much?’
‘Yes, I was going to tell you. I was going to ask what you thought I should do.’ His voice catches. ‘I want a home. Family. And they’re all I have, now.’
It’s like I’m reaching out for him and pulling back at the same time. It hurts to breathe. ‘You have me! You don’t have to go back to them. We can have a home together and—’
‘‘Don’t you understand? There is no more together.’ Michael’s face twists, his fists clenched. ‘There cannot be. Not if I can’t trust you.’
I blink, rocking back on my heels. My towel slips and I grab it. Michael’s eyes widen again, just for a moment. ‘I should have told you,’ I say, my throat raw. ‘The only reason I didn’t was because I was scared of losing you. Scared you might hate me when you found out.’
‘Funny how that’s worked out, isn’t it?’
The words hit me like a slap. My breath shudders, tears dripping from my chin.
Michael’s gaze softens, just for a moment, sorrow deep in his eyes. Then it hardens, becoming the stranger once more. ‘Go home, Emelia. Claim your crown. I hope it serves you well.’ He turns away. A few moments later, I hear the front door slam.
I stare at the empty doorway, as though I can rewind time and bring him back to me. Bring Laurel back to life and make everything right again. I clutch my damp towel around me, sobbing.
There are footsteps. My heart lifts.
But it’s my guard who appears. He blinks, looking away, when he takes in my state of undress, the tears running down my face.
‘My lady, I apologise. It’s just … the arrangements have been made for the human in the kitchen.
They’ll be here shortly. However, I need to file a report about what happened.
Will you be speaking with your parents?’
I take a shuddering breath. Michael is gone.
Laurel is gone. Grief waits for me, beyond my anger.
I need to pull myself together, before the might of Raven descends.
Because it will, of course. An attempt on the life of the heir?
This place will be crawling with guards.
I can’t do that to the people here; can’t bring any more fear and darkness into their lives.
‘I’ll call them, now.’ I pull my towel tighter, wiping my face. ‘Then you can make your report.’
‘Of course.’ He bows, then disappears, a faint whoosh of displaced air.
I lean on the wall, because my legs are shaking so much that I’ll fall if I don’t. I resist the urge to crouch down, to give into my sorrow and loss. I reach for that core of ebony and steel, the strength that helped me to kill Kyle, that got me home.
Then I go and find my phone.
* * *
Raven, as a unit, are very efficient. But even I’m surprised by the speed at which everything happens. It’s as though my parents were already planning for this, I think, as I watch guards packing up my personal belongings, carrying them to a large van parked outside.
Four guards is a reasonably restrained response, I suppose.
Even if they were here in less than an hour, and one of them is Bertrand.
I tried to be as calm as possible when I called my mother, explaining there’d been a problem with my security system and I’d been attacked but the threat was contained.
But my voice caught as I told her about Laurel, despite how I tried to hold back.
‘My lady, the car is here.’
The house is almost cleared now, apart from the furniture.
I stand in the living room, my stockinged feet curling on the bare floor, Bertrand waiting by the door.
The space looks forlorn, without the comforts that made it home.
Laurel’s body is gone, sand scattered on the kitchen floor. I don’t want to remember her like that.
I nod. ‘Thank you.’
I put on my boots and head into frosty darkness, pausing to take a last look at the little white house.
The sleek black Mercedes is parked next to the kerb.
Of course, Emelia Raven can’t travel in a van with a bunch of guards.
It’s obvious my parents were just humouring me when I insisted on taking the feed buses back and forth to the estate.
Now that everything has fallen apart, the illusion as to who I really am breaks down.
Bertrand holds the car door open. His craggy face is soft, his blue eyes gentle. I can’t look at him for too long, because I’ll start crying. I wish he could carry me, as he has so many times, wrapping me in safety. But one thing I’ve learned is that I need to carry myself.
‘Did you get the tree in the pot, from the living room?’
‘We did. Would you like it planted on the estate?’
‘Yes.’
A memory. Of Laurel, of the brief happiness I had with Michael. Something that will live after I’m gone. As I get into the car, the door closing, it’s as though the mantle of Raven wraps around me, dark as wings; protection and suffocation at the same time.
No longer a cage, though. I’m ready to lean into this power I hold.
I might be going home, but it’s my choice to do so, despite everything that’s just happened.
As we head out of the Safe Zone, leaving the glittering safety lights behind, I feel as though I am ash and bone, a creature made of the same darkness as the endless night outside the window.
I’m furious. With Jessie, with Michael, with Mistral, with everyone.
With the fact that, in one night, Jessie has exposed the main problem facing me as I try to change things for humans.
We’re weak, almost defenceless, against vampires.
And they are everywhere. For fuck’s sake, the Safe Zone I’m in is supposed to be vampire-free.
But it isn’t, as I well know. Vampires live here freely, mingle with humans, stand around drinking their blood from plastic packets while making polite conversation, as though it isn’t the most monstrous thing, like talking to a cow while eating a hamburger.
I pull out my phone but there are no messages, even though I’ve left three for Michael.
He’s read all my texts, though. I try calling again, but there’s no answer.
Fine. I block his number. If he doesn’t want to talk, then neither do I.
I get that I should have told him. But I also thought he understood me better than that.
Understood that I’d been through something traumatic and needed time.
That I might not want to share something that could be used against me or my family.
That I didn’t want to be betrayed again.
That I’m carrying a huge weight of responsibility, and need to be careful.
It was my choice not to tell him, and maybe it was wrong, but I can’t change that now. My only regret is hurting him.
It’s a mistake I’ll have to live with.
Eventually we pull up outside the house, gravel crunching beneath the wheels. My mother hurries down the front steps, her arms wide. She pulls me close, then my father is there, his arms around us both.
I sob, just a little. My mother’s hands flutter around me, my father’s expression grave, his golden eyes glittering.
‘I’m all right.’ It’s not really true but I want to go inside.
My mother frowns. ‘We’ve called the doctor.’
‘I just need to rest.’
‘Then you shall rest.’ My father puts his arm around my shoulders, my mother on my other side as we step into the velvet confines of the house. I kiss my parents, then head up the curving golden stairs, alone with my thoughts. Alone with my sorrow, my rage.
Alone.