Dark Heiress, page 11
part #5 of Ema Marx Series
“Really? Rick said the Sword of Somnus was a revered friend of the R.E.D.”
Snow scoffed. “Don’t all pricks think they’re the life of the party when really everyone is talking behind their backs?”
I shrugged, then phased my hand and dipped it past the confines of the casing. The molecules of the glass panels had a sharpness to their vibration. Almost like petting a cactus. Not painful so long as I was careful. “I don’t know. Rick doesn’t seem so bad.”
The Hunter barked a laugh. “I hope you’re right. For your sake.”
I wrapped the ivory blade with my invisible fingers then phased it and pulled it past the casing. My hand solidified in a fist wrapped around the smooth white handle.
“Did they teach you how to do that?” Chayton’s brown eyes were on the knife. “Or did it come naturally?”
“I had to be taught.” I shrugged, then handed the blade to him.
Snow’s brow piqued as he took the dagger and slid it into the sleeve of his button-down shirt, obscuring it from view. I winced, knowing we were technically stealing from the king. But Brinnon had countless other daggers and weapons in his cache, most of them useless. I doubted anyone would notice.
“How’s Dad?” I asked. “Have you spoken to him since he woke?”
Snow lowered his gaze. “Your father is as fit as a fiddle. He is welcome to return to the Brotherhood any time he likes, though I don’t think he will.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
The Hunter lifted his gaze and grinned. There was something calculated about his eyes. “Well, he has two charming ladies who I suspect will want to keep him to themselves.”
Heat rose to my cheeks. I knew Dad would leave again—and probably sooner rather than later—simply because the R.E.D. would not allow me to keep a relationship with my human parents, but I had given no thought to where exactly Dad would go or what he would do with his life. I couldn’t imagine him leaving Mom again, but would he even have a choice? “Could Mom go with him if he wanted to continue being a Hunter?”
Snow tilted his head. “She wouldn’t be allowed on the compound nor be able to travel with him on the job, but it’s not impossible.”
My throat thickened and I looked away. Dad had said he’d take care of Mom, but I had no idea what that meant. It was one thing for Anthony to go back to Chicago and act like he never met me. It would be quite another for my own parents. “I know I asked for a lesson,” I said, “But ...”
“Rain check?” Snow offered.
I nodded, knowing neither of us meant it.
The Hunter studied me one last time, then winked and went on his way.
I no longer felt the need to expel my energy in the training room because I no longer felt high. It had only been a sip after all, and the euphoria puttered out on its own. But I went anyway and ran laps—pacing myself the way a human jogger would—to clear my heavy heart. I ran until a layer of sweat coated my back and dirt coated my calves, my sneakers kicking up tracks in the compact ground. I decided to head to my room for a much-needed shower.
Mom was fast asleep in bed; her curled form like a lump buried under the heavy blue down comforter that occasionally snored. I was a bit surprised she hadn’t decided to spend the night with Dad. I wondered if he’d talked to her yet about leaving the castle and continuing their lives elsewhere. Would they stay together? Her slumbering presence didn’t seem like a good sign.
I went to the bathroom and quietly drew the privacy curtain over the frame. I made a mental note to ask Dad—and probably Rick for good measure—what the official story would be in Mom’s case. Then I ran the shower faucet and undressed. While sliding the maternity jeans down my thighs, Jesu’s cell phone fell from the back pocket and clattered against the tile. I waited for a beat to see if Mom would stir, but her heavy snoring continued.
Sighing, I picked up the phone and illuminated the screen. I found Shénshèng’s number easily. Jesu didn’t have very many contacts. I sucked in a deep breath and pressed the green call button. The line trilled as I pressed the device to my ear and waited. Would she even answer?
The line clicked, and a soft Mandarina accent spoke. “You’re late.”
I blinked. “Doctor Shénshèng?”
“I’ve been waiting for this phone call all day.”
I gripped the phone with both hands and pressed my back against the wall facing the sink. My reflection fogged in the mirror. “So, you know why I’m calling?”
“You want to know if your son is a Nephilim and if the Jumlin prophecy is real.”
My stomach churned, and I lowered the toilet lid before sitting on it. “Please.”
“There are rules, Ema. You know the rules.”
“There must be something you can tell me.”
“Not without consequences.”
“Then why did you answer the phone?” My voice was a whisper for Mom’s sake, but I didn’t hide the agitation in my tone. I closed my eyes and drew a calming breath. “I’m desperate.”
“You are very far from desperate, Ema Marx. But one day desperation will come.”
“Great pep talk.” I leaned forward and massaged my brow with one hand. “I just need to know—will Apollyon return?” The other end went quiet. After a long moment, I sat upright. “Shénshèng?”
“You already know the answer.”
“I’m having serious second thoughts. About everything.”
She chuckled. “That’s the tradeoff when it comes to free will.”
“Crippling self-doubt?”
“Follow your heart, Ema. You always have. Why stop now?”
“Let’s say my son is Nephilim. What do I—?”
The line clicked and then went dead.
I held the cell phone at arm’s length and looked at the screen. Nope, didn’t lose signal. She actually hung up on me. Rude. I tweaked my lips and set the phone on the countertop. My gaze went to the opposite side, where a corner of the marble slab was missing, and a jagged broken edge remained. Odd how marble never looked as shiny or beautiful on the inside as it did on the outside. Still, I could not look at that broken bit without thinking of Jesu.
Jesu
After dinner I went to the foyer, selected a book from the shelves, and then settled into one of the new leather chairs. My mind, however, would not concentrate on the story, and after reading the same page three times, I gave up. I should check on Ema. She only had a sip of her drink, but her actions were so unpredictable under the bloodlust I never knew how much control, if any, she retained. I also meant to ask if she’d spoken to Rick and how it went.
I re-shelved the novel then climbed the steps to the guest wing. At Ema’s door, I lifted my fist to knock but stopped and hesitated. After a moment’s indecision, I extended my acute hearing past the barrier and explored the sounds within. The spray of the shower hit the loudest, punctured every few minutes by the deep nasal breaths of her mother. I lowered my hand. No sense in waking Helena when her daughter was busy, so I went to my own room and collapsed on the bed with a deep sigh.
The springs bounced with my weight and the silky down comforter rose to cocoon me in soft comforts. Not that I could sleep. I’d long since forgotten how. Instead, I listened to the shower pipes running in our conjoined bathroom and thought of Ema. The scent of shampoo wafted into the room by way of the gaps that outlined the closed door, but it was Ema’s essence that called out to me, eliciting a longing in my blood. She smelled like a predator, as all vampyres did, but also like femininity and miles of clean skin. Mostly though, she smelled of roses. Always like roses.
A groan left my throat as my thoughts turned once again toward premonitions and mistakes. I could no longer recall if past visions were as vivid as the one concerning Ema’s daughter, not even the premonition of the human woman who attacked my father in a blaze of glory. That premonition had happened over two-thousand years ago, the particulars fleeting. But I did remember one detail with absolute certainty—the scent of roses.
I had woken from that premonition with the scent of her all around me; in my clothes, my hair, on my skin. It faded quickly and in the back of my mind, I knew the fragrance had never really been there. Nothing grew within our cave-dwelling at the time—nothing but stalagmites and guano—but it hadn’t mattered. The scent was all I could think about. I went through a period where I would seek out wild roses and sniff their buds just to remind myself of the vision. Then, years later, I went through a phase where I avoided the flowers altogether; full of anger and self-loathing.
Would I even recognize the girl destined to fight Father? If she walked into my room right now the way Jalmari walked into the castle with Ema ...
The bathroom door opened, and I sat upright. Ema stood in the doorway wearing nothing but a white cotton towel wrapped around her torso. Her dark hair slicked the sides of her slender neck and shoulders, the tips dripping wet. My throat thickened as I attempted to find the appropriate place for my gaze. Somehow the soft features of her face didn’t seem safe enough, and I swallowed.
She extended her hand. In it was my cell phone. “Thanks for letting me use it.”
I cleared my throat. When no place else seemed quite right, I resolved to look at her eyes. “You are welcome.”
She waited for a beat, arm still outstretched. When I didn’t move, she upped her brows in question.
Just go take it, you jackass. I drew a breath but couldn’t seem to make my legs work.
She set the phone on the mantel then backtracked into the bathroom and pulled the door shut with a very final click.
I sagged against the pillows with a haggard sigh and used all ten fingers to cover my face. What is wrong with me? Rendered speechless like a horny schoolboy just because she was naked and wet?
Her scent lingered thanks to the steam that blew in from the bathroom when she had opened the door. It stuck all around me again. In my lungs. In my mind. In my blood. I grabbed one of the pillows and placed it over the crotch of my pants, not entirely sure who I was hiding the erection from. This is ridiculous.
I shoved the pillow aside, reached under my pants to rearrange myself, and then exited the room. Clambering quickly down the stone steps, I shoved open the door to the foyer landing and continued the descent to ground level. Maria stood near the castle doors speaking to an Alpan soldier. Their conversation ended with the man bowing his head before he rushed off. Maria’s dark eyes found mine as I declined the final step.
“Maria.” I grinned in welcome. “When did you get in?”
“Just now.” She studied me as I neared. “Going somewhere?”
“I was going to get some air.” I nodded in the direction of the doors. “But I suppose it can wait.”
“Good. Follow me.” She climbed the lacquered wood staircase to a door we often used to speak privately because it led to an empty wing. I closed the ingress as Maria turned to face me, her features hidden in the shadows of the musty corridor. “Your brother has scheduled a meeting with the High Blood Council to be held here tomorrow night.”
“Here?” I furrowed my brow. Brinnon did ask the Queen Mother how arrangements were coming along at dinner after Ema had excused herself, to which Cecelia loudly commented that she was not her son’s personal event planner. “The Alpan king did not mention it.”
Maria nodded as though that made sense. “He probably does not realize the reason Jalmari chose this location.”
“And that reason is ...?”
“He requests that you and Ema be present.”
I blinked several times. Surely I misunderstood. “Present ... in the castle?” I sighed as meaning became clear. He plots against her still.
Maria shook her head. “Present at the meeting. You are to be his guests of honor.”
I blinked again. “But I ... I am a vampire.”
“Yes,” Maria nodded. “It is an unusual request. But you will attend. As will Ema.”
I narrowed my gaze. “Is this a request or a demand? He tried to kill her several times now, Maria.”
“It’s not like that.” She tilted her jaw, her gaze softening in promise. “He no longer harbors any ill will toward her.”
“Oh?” I challenged. “What changed his mind?”
Maria shook her head. She touched a hand to my cheek and smiled. “I have been sworn to secrecy, my dear, but I can tell you this: All will be revealed at the meeting.”
My mood darkened and my fists clenched. Ema and Jalmari were not a good combination. Even if he was no longer interested in causing her physical harm, she should not be subjected to the emotional trauma of being in a room with him. “I do not like this secrecy, Maria.”
“Have I ever steered you wrong?”
“Yes,” I growled. “You have. You let me believe Ema was the girl from my premonition. You let me fall in love with her knowing it could only end badly. You must have realized I would figure it out eventually. Why would you do that? Then you have the audacity to ask me if I wish to leave. To just go home and what? Forget she exists?”
Maria’s gaze darkened. “Forget what I said before. Do not make any rash decisions until after the meeting.” She pushed past me, opened the door, and walked out.
My breathing came in hard, quick, pants; my knuckles sore from clenching too tight. I had never set foot into the world of politics. As a vampire, I never had the option. That was my brother’s world and he ruled it well.
I shook my head and growled to myself. Jalmari wants us at a Council meeting. Not just any Council meeting, but a High Blood Council meeting. It had been ages since the High Blood Council convened. Why now? What are you planning, brother?
Chapter 11
That morning, I waited until Mom started the shower and then went across the hall to Dad’s room and knocked on the door. Tancred entered the corridor from the velvet staircase side, and our gazes met. The tall broad-shouldered militant nodded. “I was hoping to find you.”
I faced him. My brow pinched in apprehension. “Everything okay?”
Tancred’s signature Alpan gold irises slid in the direction of my father’s door one second before it opened. Dad smelled like coffee, incense, and aftershave. He was dressed all in denim, his hair freshly combed, but his gaze looked drawn. The fine lines at the edges of his eyes and mouth deeper than usual.
“Pumpkin?” he said while stifling a yawn.
Tancred stood beside me. “Actually, I need to speak to both of you.”
Dad pulled the door wide and stepped aside.
I held up an index finger as Princess Sara’s scent alerted me to her approach from the tower. Mixed into her sweet vampyre scent were the sugary notes of vanilla frosting. “Hold that thought a minute.”
I stepped over to Sara as she appeared at the tower entrance carrying none other than a platter of donuts, eclairs, and cream cheese spread. My insides wept at the masterpiece as I selected a frosted donut, piled it high with cream cheese, then topped it with a second donut. “Thanks,” I said with an appreciative groan. “All I need now is a gallon of blood.”
Sara pulled both lips between her teeth but failed to hide her smile as I bit into the double-decker—and was immediately disappointed. I spit the bite into my palm.
“Ugh, Jesus. It tastes like kitty litter.”
“I’ll get you a drink to wash it down.” Sara winked.
“Thanks.” I sat the donut sandwich on the tray, wiped my fingers, and went back to the guys. “That is seriously annoying.”
Tancred looked at me like I had sprouted a second head.
Dad took a donut from the tray before Sara went to my room to offer the rest to Mom.
“Shall we?” Tancred urged.
The three of us retreated into Dad’s guest room and closed the door.
Dad’s room was full of emblems and talismans and figurines similar to the ones Snow had set up in the infirmary. The overbearing scent of peppermint and citrus dominated the space though I could not pinpoint the source. Incense sticks and cones covered every countertop, but none appeared to be lit.
“What’s the commotion?” Dad asked between bites of his donut. My mouth watered at the sweet scent and the memory of rich flavors, and I was envious. Noticing my glare, Dad pinched off a piece and handed it to me. “Just eat it.”
I sagged against the edge of the bed while accepting the morsel and popped it into my mouth. More prepared for the disappointing bitterness this time, I managed to chew and swallow. Despite the taste, it hit my stomach in a satisfactory delight. I wanted more and jumped up, headed for the platter in my room when Tancred’s narrowed gaze gave me pause.
“Anyway,” said the vampyre with some impatience to his tone. “There is to be a High Blood Council meeting here in the castle tonight.” His gilded gaze went to my father. “I expect you and your wife will be slumbering through most of the activity, but guards will be stationed at your doors nevertheless.”
“How long do you expect your guests to stay?” Dad asked.
“Typically no more than a day, but it has been some time since the High Blood Council has been called to assemble.” Tancred looked as though he wanted to say more but thought better of it and changed directions. “The Council members will begin arriving late this evening.”
Dad nodded. “Helena and I were talking about going to the city. This would be the perfect opportunity. We could get a hotel and stay the night.”
Tancred nodded. “That would put the king at ease. I can arrange for a car to take you.”
Dad looked at me and grinned. “What do you say, pumpkin? Your mother tells me you have an obsession with World War II. We could hit all the history museums.”
“Actually,” said Tancred. “Ema will be attending the meeting.”
I looked at the vampyre and furrowed my brow. “I will?”
“She will?” Dad repeated.
Tancred nodded. “Your presence has been personally requested by—”
“Don’t say it,” I whispered while closing my eyes.
“—Prince Jalmari.”
