Dark heiress, p.40
Dark Heiress, page 40
part #5 of Ema Marx Series
“Son,” Naamah seemed to deflate as he released a stream of breath and murmured quietly, “I just got off the phone with one of the men we sent to trail Rick. Things went horribly south. They were attacked.”
I blinked at Naamah. “Is anyone hurt?”
His dark gaze softened as it bore into mine. “Son ... Jalmari ... your brother ...” He struggled to get the words out.
Maybe it was the party. Maybe it was too much of a good thing. The air charged with joy at the promise of new life. The stolen moments of happiness shining a light on my heart after so much dark. Whatever the reason, I could not make heads nor tails of what came out of Naamah’s mouth next.
“Jesu ... Jalmari didn’t make it.”
“What?”
In my periphery, I was aware of a few people looking our way. Concern softened their chatter. Their brows furrowed, and it seemed as though their confusion and doubt mirrored my own. Naamah leaned toward me.
“I am sorry, Jesu. Your brother ... your brother is dead.”
Was it me, or did time stand still?
No. Everyone had simply stopped talking. The room fell to silence.
Then, “Jalmari’s dead!”
The proclamation came from someone in the crowd. I didn’t see who.
Dead? My ... my brother? Jalmari ...? H-how could this ... be?
The same questions that ran through my mind were echoed by the Council. Naamah eyed Helena as the woman returned from the facilities, then he slid his gaze to Ema and tilted his head in apology. “Gentlemen,” he said sternly. “This is not the place. Let us convene in the conference room.”
Leis, paper hats, and colorful noisemakers were left behind as the vampyres in the room filed out of the North wing, their idle chit-chat now turned toward an uproar of questions and political panic. When the room emptied of Councilmen, Naamah once again glanced at Ema.
“Ema, I’m—”
“No,” she said. “Just go.”
Naamah nodded, then looked at me.
I hadn’t moved. Hadn’t blinked. Hadn’t breathed?
My eyes suddenly felt grainy, and my brow hurt. I slowly un-furrowed it, but everything still felt tense. Then Ema was beside me. In my arms.
“Go,” she said again. “I got Jesu.”
Naamah drew a hesitant breath, then turned away and left.
Ema looked over her shoulder. “Dad?”
Logan was next to his wife. He took Helena’s hand, nodded to his daughter, and then urged his wife toward the door. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s give them some privacy.”
I caught Sara’s eye. The Alpan princess was still perched on the couch. She trembled, and Tilly put an arm around her. Then the youngest of the der Wölfe royal family covered her face with her hands and wept.
“Jesu, honey?”
My gaze slid to find Ema in front of me, eye to eye. But she is so much smaller. That was when I realized I had sat down at the breakfast bar. I looked at her again—my wife, my love; her brow pinched in concern ... for me—and somehow, it finally registered. But it still didn’t make sense, and I scowled. Jalmari is dead? I stood, suddenly needing to be at that meeting in the conference room. I needed to hear the explanation.
“Jesu?” Ema stepped back, and I shook my head.
“I need ... I need to know.”
She nodded in understanding. “Then let’s go.”
“... More Rebels than expected ...”
“... Rick didn’t make it ...”
“... Arm ripped off ...”
“... Heart removed ...”
“... Andrews arrived earlier today—the last thing we need, another R.E.D. ...”
“... He has already gone to deal with it ...”
“... Thank goodness ...”
“... And the Prince ...”
“... Explosion ...”
“... Suspected ambush ...”
“... Don’t know yet ...”
“... Body hasn’t been recovered ...”
“... Shh. Have some respect for ...”
I felt their gazes, and my own lowered.
Ema and I had joined the Council members at the table—a table I had never been allowed to sit at until this moment. It felt ... like a fucking table, what did I expect?
Ema held my hand in her lap. She never took her eyes off me.
And I ... I didn’t know how to feel.
Sad, of course. But it didn’t seem real. None of it felt real. Any minute now, my idiot brother would saunter into the room, look down his nose at me, and tell me to get lost. I had no business ... sitting in his chair? I looked at the wooden armrests of my seat, dumbfounded.
Then someone in the room grew a pair and asked the real question: “Who ascends now?”
“To that end, I have some news,” said Naamah. The Second—who had lost his wife just a week prior—looked and sounded exhausted. I briefly wondered how I looked. Like shit, probably. “His Majesty signed his official resignation in advance, as well as the deed naming his only surviving relative, Prince Jesu ta Korento, heir to the crown.”
An uproar of protests ensued.
My breath wheezed from my lips. Not because of the Council’s disapproval, but because of my brother’s foresight. He’d covered all his bases the moment this very scheme entered that thick skull of his. Probably learned it from Maria.
I grimaced. At least they are at peace together. Leena, as well.
Ema’s grip constricted around mine, and the whisper of a sting lashed through my chest. I couldn’t look at her. Because the moment I did, I would lose control. As numb as I felt, I still knew I was barely keeping it together in front of the Council. What I really wanted was to unleash the embers burning beneath my skin. My fury waited there, but it wouldn’t wait long. As the minutes ticked by, the flames grew. Reality was setting in, getting real freaking cozy in my marrow, redecorating the place with a pain I hadn’t known since I lost my mother. My sire. I was so young then. Still a boy. Hardly in control of my powers. But now?
I would burn the world down for my brother.
“Enough!” said Naamah, and I shook once before I realized he hadn’t been speaking to me.
The Council quieted.
“We’ve set a meeting. Tomorrow night following the memorial. We will vote then. For now, I will kindly bid you hold your tongue and have some respect for those who grieve.”
Nods. Murmurs of agreements. Words of, what a shame. Gone too soon. Those poor children.
Ema dropped her gaze at that last one, and another fire lit under my ass.
The three of us didn’t move until the room emptied. Then Naamah sighed and massaged his brow. Ema reached out and covered his free hand with hers. He paused and looked at her.
“Dumb question,” she said, “but are you all right? I mean, will you be all right?”
Naamah nodded. “I need a drink is all. Excuse me.” He stood and left the room.
Then there were two.
Ema faced me, her brow arched, her lips swollen from chewing on them again. “Jesu.”
The dam was breaking. I could feel it. With no one to save face for, the cracks widened and the inferno on the other side broiled to high hell. The chair legs screeched against the floor as I stood and faced her. She remained seated. Looking up at me, her gaze black as death and red as blood. She was a beautiful dream, and I couldn’t do this in front of her.
“Ema, I ...” I grimaced.
She lifted my fists to her lips and kissed the tops of them. “I know. Go. Find your tempest. But when the storm has cleared, come back to me.”
I nodded, kissed her forehead, then left the room.
My legs carried me to the foyer as if on autopilot. I lifted one hand, shoving the castle door open with no more than a thought. The moment the insole of my left boot touched the soft summer soil, the ground launched me like a bullet into the star-studded sky. I couldn’t fly like my brother, my father, or my clansmen. But Ema was right. I commanded the elements. The spray of lake water and wind nettled my cheeks as the earth rose to grant me wings.
Chapter 34
The team Naamah assigned to follow Rick returned at dawn. The official story was that Rick led Jalmari into an underground parking garage to meet Victor, but they were met instead by a group of Rebels. One attacked Rick immediately, tearing him limb from limb. Jalmari didn’t stop them. Nor did the team. Rick was collateral damage. The goal was Victor. Only the vampyre wasn’t present, and no one had counted on a group of suicide bombers. Before Rick’s body was even cold, the Rebels detonated the C4 strapped to their chests. The entire building flatlined. There were no survivors and too many body parts to pick through before the human authorities arrived. James Andrews, the R.E.D. representative who had come to collect Rick, dealt with the news anchors and chief of police.
I spent the rest of the daylight hours helping the maids and servants prepare the grounds for the service. They built a pyre, and I was told mementos would be thrown into the fire in place of a body. Naamah helped chop wood and placed the logs for the pyre, but every so often he would stop, turn away, and catch his breath. Eventually, he gave up and dispersed his essence.
Later, I found him sitting behind the mahogany desk in Jalmari’s office. I set two shot glasses and a bottle of absinth in front of him then poured one out. Naamah took it and slammed it back in one gulp, wincing at the piquancy.
“Thank you.”
I nodded, then poured another.
“You shouldn’t drink,” he murmured.
“I’m not. This one is for Jalmari and Maria.”
Naamah lifted his gaze. “D-do you think that’s why?”
“Why what?” I refilled his glass as well.
Naamah turned his gaze to the room and frowned. “She took care of them for two-thousand years. The moment she is gone, Jalmari ... I didn’t ... I should have ... done more.”
My heart broke, but I drew a breath and stayed strong. “Nonsense. This was no one’s fault.” Except maybe mine. “You warned him not to go.”
Naamah’s gaze lowered. “I should have stopped him. Maria would have stopped him.”
“Drink.” I lifted one glass in salute.
Naamah took his and clicked it against mine before slamming the pale green liquid back. “Where did you get this?”
I lowered my drink to the desk and left it there. “I asked around. A maid gave it to me. Cute girl. Eyes like steel.”
“Natasha,” Naamah said fondly. “That girl’s a hard worker. And a vampire. She came to us after the Russian revolution.”
My brow piqued as I thought of another vampyre with the same slate-gray eyes. “Why didn’t she go to Diana?”
Naamah chuckled. “She did. But she was caught fraternizing with one of Diana’s sons. The queen didn’t approve.”
“Or,” I said, thinking out loud, “the queen needed a spy.”
Naamah looked at me, furrowed his brow in thought, then muttered a curse.
“Where are you going?” I asked as Naamah rose from the chair and stomped to the door.
“To ask a favor of your father,” he growled back.
“M-my father?”
“I’ll see you at the service.” Naamah yanked the door from its frame then slammed it behind him.
I showered, dressed in black, and pinned my hair up. Emerging from my bedroom in the North wing, I found my father seated at the breakfast bar nursing a cup of coffee. The festivities of yesterday had been cleared and cleaned. The gifts had been carried away—whether in storage or in a room meant for the nursery, I didn’t know. The only proof there had been a baby shower at all were the two remaining cupcakes on the counter; one pink and one blue.
Since Mom was already asleep in the next room, and I had a few minutes before the service, I took a chance to talk to my father. “What did Naamah want?”
He drew a deep breath before answering. “I’m not supposed to say, so you have to keep this to yourself.”
I nodded to show I understood.
Dad looked into his coffee cup. “He asked me to look into that maid’s subconscious. You were right. Diana’s been using her for years. Trivial things at first, but it got more serious when Victor pitched an alliance with the Porcelnikan queen. She’s been funding the rebellion.”
I gasped. She was witness to my union with Jesu too.
“Naamah made the R.E.D. and the High Blood Council aware. She is likely being arrested as we speak. The rest of the help here, they are being moved to the dungeon for the time being. Naamah wants to question them after the meeting.”
I shook my head. “Arresting royalty? What can they even do to her?”
Dad peered up at me. “For the crimes she is guilty of? More than you want to know. No one’s immune to justice, pumpkin.”
“Will you attend the service?” I asked.
Dad shook his head. “But I’ll walk you there if you want.”
I declined. “Thanks, but I’m going to check if Jesu’s back yet. I’ll be okay.”
Dad patted my hand and then nodded.
I went to the fourth wing in search of my grieving husband, but the rooms were empty. Was it a mistake to let him go? No. Jesu responded to bad news with explosive anger. Given that vampires and vampyres had no other way to express heartbreak, I couldn’t fault him for needing to punch a few walls. He’s probably swimming laps in the lake.
With a sigh, I turned and retraced my steps to the ballroom, where I joined the growing congregation. There were more than just Councilmen here. Some of the faces I recognized from the High Blood meeting. Royalty. Come to say their farewells to a fellow sovereign.
But one man was neither a member of the Council nor a member of the vampyre race. I stopped dead in my tracks as my gaze followed his face through the crowd. He wore a black cotton button-down, the sleeves rolled up to expose the layers of beaded charms circling his wrists, his human gaze scrutinizing the group as he maneuvered toward the foyer.
Snow.
I dashed after him, ducking past guests, ignoring the ones I accidentally knocked into, until I came within reaching distance of the Hunter.
“Chayton,” I said harshly.
He paused, turned, and had the balls to smile at me. “Miss Ema.”
“It’s missus now. How dare you show yourself here.”
A few of the vampyres nearest us paused to look. Snow’s grin teetered at their attention like he was worried what they thought of him. He should have been worried about my foot in his ass.
Or worse.
“When I heard what happened ...”
“What?” I demanded. “You had to come and give your condolences to the man whose daughter you are kidnapping? The man you helped de-throne?”
“I had nothing to do with Jalmari’s abdication. You know that.”
“I know you’ve been playing my father and me like a fiddle. So what, then? Came to check on your investment? She’s doing just fine.” I pointed to my belly. “Though I can’t imagine she’s too happy about being separated from her own mother.”
More people were gawking now, and Snow swallowed as he watched the crowd thicken around us. Let them stare.
“If you must know, I came to discuss the situation.”
“Oh,” I snorted while placing my hands on my hips. “I see how this works. I’m just the breeding cow. Give me one good reason not to bleed you dry, you traitor!”
A hand clamped over my mouth while another circled my chest and pulled me away from the crowd. What the heck? I shoved away from the person behind me. They were easily fended off, and as I turned to face the man, I saw why.
Dad glared at me, a berated look in his eyes. “I called him here.”
My brow furrowed. “What? Why?”
Realizing that this was a family matter—or a Hunter matter—the vampyres in the room filed past us, going outside to convene in the clearing in the woods where the pyre waited.
Dad looked at me like I was nuts. Maybe I was. “To talk about my employment with the Brotherhood. And my granddaughter’s future.”
He eyed Snow, and the Hunter nodded. “Your father wishes to join the training faculty. We could use a man with his experience guiding our trainees.”
“It’s stable,” Dad explained. “There’s housing near the compound.”
In other words, he would be perfectly positioned to keep an eye on Jordan.
I winced. What choice did I have? The R.E.D. gave their sentence. I could either bend to compliance or break for treason. Having an assassin for a mother had to beat having an outlaw for a mother. I couldn’t become a bounty. Always on the run. Always in danger. No. I’d resigned myself to playing the long game. Relinquish control now. Live to take it back later.
I crossed my arms over my chest and rolled my eyes. “Fine. But just so we’re clear, I hate you.”
“We all want what’s best for her, Ema.”
My brow rose. I couldn’t even dignify that with a response.
“You’re such a jackass,” Dad muttered.
Enough. I have a service to get to. “Gentlemen,” I said by way of exit, and then I pivoted on my heel and walked away. I refused to think of Snow or the R.E.D. or the sentence I was being forced to agree to as I trampled the wild grass outside. Summers were cooler here in the arctic circle. Still warm but less muggy than the air had been in Berlin. Not that the weather mattered. None of the black suit-and-tie clad vampyres waiting in the clearing would be affected by things like hot or cold. Myself included.
The night sky was a backdrop of heavy gray rainclouds that cast a dark shadow over the meadow; no moon or starlight strong enough to penetrate through. A few well-placed torches cast an orange glow over the sea of grass, providing plenty of illumination for the nocturnal guests, and soon a pillar of fire would join them.
Sara stood near the pyre. She leaned against her chaperone, her gaze so low, her lashes fanned her cheeks. She looked as sorrowful as the day of her father’s funeral. I pulled both lips between my teeth and excused myself as I moved toward her. Once at the princess’ side, I opened my mouth to say something kind, but was interrupted as Naamah came to stand before the pyre. He flattened one hand against one of the larger logs of the base, then closed his eyes and bowed his head as though in prayer.
