LILLIAN SLEEPS. WHEN SHE’S SLEEPING, it’s easy to forget that she’s a vampire. An immortal Born. She just looks like a beautiful woman. Eyes closed, long lashes extending out over her beautiful brown cheeks. Hair a mess, but somehow still stylish. I wonder what she was like before she resurrected.
I watch over her as she sleeps for over an hour before the front door opens without a knock.
I don’t respond when Ian calls out for me. I’ve sat and been terrified for him all night, let him worry over me for a few minutes. His booted steps sound up the stairs. Down to my bedroom. Around the upper floors. He comes back down. Checks the kitchen, the ballroom.
And finally he comes down the hall and sees me sitting on Lillian’s bed through the open door.
He leans in the doorframe for a long time, arms crossed over his chest, not saying a word. I glare at him from under my lashes. Angry. Relieved. I’m a mixed bag of emotions right now.
“Nice work with the vamp outside,” he finally says. His tone is trying to be light and joking, but there’s knowledge of the reality behind it. He knows full well how unhappy I am. “Looks like it got you. You okay?”
He indicates my arm where Lillian fed on me. There’s still dried blood smeared all over it.
“I’m fine,” I say tersely. I don’t want to tell him the truth about what I did, just to spite him.
“She’ll be fine by evening, probably,” Ian says awkwardly, indicating Lillian. He shifts his weight to both feet, pushing his hands into his pockets. “The toxin usually only lasts twelve hours.”
“Yeah, I know that, Ian,” I hiss. Carefully, I tuck the sheet up on Lillian’s chest. I look her over one more time. Her eyes are narrowed, though they’re shut. She still looks like she’s in pain, even in sleep. Turning, I walk out behind Ian and close the door behind me.
We wander out and end up in the middle of the ballroom, standing on the family crest in the middle of the floor.
“What was she doing here?” Ian asks. He won’t quite look me in the eye. He looks uncomfortable, nervous. He knows what he’s done has pissed me off. And he has no idea how much worse it’s gotten.
“She came here to warn me that Jasmine has given Micah permission to hunt you down and kill you.” My words fall flat in the expanse of the marble ballroom.
Ian’s eyes finally jump to mine. He bites the inside of his cheek.
He should look scared. He should be worried, at the very least. But his expression is just blank. And I hate him for not having a better sense of self-preservation.
“Did you hear me?” I hiss at him. “Micah, a vampire with a seriously bad attitude and muscles like you wouldn’t believe is pissed at you and plans to kill you. The minute the sun goes down, he is going to be looking for you, and he will probably find you. And you are well trained and a bad ass, but there is a very good chance that he will kill you before you kill him. And even if you do kill him, then you’ll have the entire House after you, wanting revenge. You will not survive this. Do you not understand, Ian? Don’t you even care?”
There are tears in my eyes again and my throat is tight. I sound desperate, exactly how I feel inside.
“Of course I care, Liv,” he says. He closes the distance between us and places his hands on my upper arms.
“Then why…” my voice is too emotional to continue.
“Because if I fight against them, maybe I can keep other kids from becoming orphans, too.”
“Stop being so noble,” I say, taking a step away from him. “You need to leave town. I will go to the House today and tell them they can take me now. That I’m ready to die today. It’ll distract them. Hell, I’ll tell Markov to kill me now and he’ll be happy to do it in an instant just for sport. I’ll resurrect, and they’ll be so distracted by the King coming, they won’t think twice about coming after you.”
“Don’t say those things, Liv,” Ian says between clenched teeth as his eyes go wild and desperate. “You can’t say those things because if you’re willing to do all that, then you’re breaking your promise.”
I slap Ian. Hard. Right across the cheek.
“Don’t you dare,” I breathe, my breaths coming in hard and fast. “I am not in love with you and there’s no way in hell you’re in love with me or you would already be gone. So I guess this really is you keeping your promise, Ian.”
“How can you say that, Liv?” Ian asks. His entire countenance is pained. His eyes, his expression, the downturn of his shoulders. “You’ve been there every day of the past three months that I have, too. I think you know damn well I was breaking that promise from the day you made me make it.”
“Don’t say that, Ian!” I scream. Tears are streaming down my face and I don’t care. “You promised. We had an expiration and now, because of your choices, that date has been moved up to today. And you’re not going to stop me.”
I walk away from Ian right then. I take five steps before he pulls me to a stop.
“Alivia,” Ian says as he grabs my wrist. “We will figure this out. I will find a way to stop this without running.”
“You’re so stupid,” I whisper in anger as I turn back to him. The tears roll down my face freely. “Why’d you have to go and do…everything?”
“I never claimed to be a smart man.” He takes a step toward me, closing the distance between us. He brings his free hand up to my face and touches his forehead to mine. “And I tend to do unexplainable things when it comes to you.”
“Ian,” I breathe as tears slip down my face.
Then his lips are on mine.
Our kiss is full of pain and fear. Our lips hover on each other, our mouths parted, breathing in all the weight of the situation and our lives. And then Ian’s hand slides from my cheek to the back of my head and into my hair. His other hand slips around my waist and he closes the distance between us.
My body reacts without my permission, Ian has that power over me. One hand fists in his hair and the other clings to his chest.
We kiss like there’s no tomorrow, which there isn’t.
This is it.
This is the end of Ian and Alivia.
THE SUN IS ONLY SLIGHTLY warm on my back. It’s mid-December, and while it’s nothing like a Colorado winter, it’s still winter here.
I lie with my head in Ian’s lap. He traces his fingers down my back, sending currents of electricity racing through my veins. The blanket beneath me is growing slightly damp as we lie on it. But we’re here, in this little world of no words and complete ignorance.
Because we’re not talking. I can’t say the words that need to be said, and Ian won’t go like he should.
So we’re here. Lying in front of the river. Touching. Kissing.
It’s a final, bittersweet goodbye. Even if Ian won’t admit it.
I roll over so that I’m looking up at him. Ian stares down at me, his eyes reflective of everything that’s being cut so short. I reach up and place my hand on his cheek. It’s rough. He hasn’t shaved in a few days. The dark hair dots his face, darker than the wild hair on his head.
Ian really is a handsome man. Strong jaw, deep, hazel eyes. Hands that can kill and hands that can send goosebumps flashing across my skin with a feather-soft touch. Lips cut to the perfect shape. Those arms and that glorious chest.
I study him for a long time.
I’m going to miss this.
“Katina thought you all might be hungry.” I sit up to see Beth walking out with a big silver tray. On it is a mix of cheeses, fruit, little sandwiches, and two glasses.
“Thank you,” I offer. My voice sounds rough.
She sets it on the edge of the blanket. With a little nod of the head, she walks back into the house.
“That was thoughtful,” Ian says. The first words we’ve spoken in an hour or more. Our make-out session made its way out here and neither of us has dared break the spell with reality. We’re at an impasse.
“They’re always taking such good care of me,” I say, trying to smile and probably failing. “It’s a small miracle that I don’t weigh three hundred pounds after living off of Katina’s cooking for the past four months.”
“After being in the South,” he corrects, trying to joke in that way he does. He takes a grape and pops it into his mouth. “We like our food deep fried and slathered in molasses and butter.”
I take a sandwich and nibble off a bite. It’s tasteless to me. This whole situation is awkward. This is unnatural and forced and we’re just ignoring the immediate future.
“Yeah,” I say, a good five beats too late.
“Do you like it here, though?” Ian asks. He finally meets my eyes and it’s a genuine question. “Take out all the drama and the supernatural—do you like it here in Mississippi? Or do you wish you were still back in Colorado?”
I take another nibble and allow a few seconds to think about it. “Colorado is home. It’s where I grew up. And it’s a different world here, in so many ways. But…” It’s difficult to put into words how I feel about Silent Bend. About the Conrath Estate. “I think this is where I was supposed to be, you know? Even though I didn’t know Henry, he was my family and he’s been here for more than two centuries. I have roots already planted here, I just didn’t know it.”
Ian reaches for a glass and takes a sip. I watch the glass come to his lips, watch the muscles constrict in his throat. He wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “The South kind of has a way of gripping you and not letting go.”
I nod, feeling my stomach sink. “Yeah, I can feel that.”
Ian takes one more drink before setting his glass back on the tray. He leans forward and tips my chin back up, forcing me to look at him. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, his voice low and intense. “Despite everything, I have no regrets.”
He leans in and so do I. “I’m glad I’m here, too,” I whisper just before our lips meet.
It’s a tender kiss. One that lingers and sinks into my soul. It’s a parting kiss and a last goodbye.
Because just five seconds into it, Ian collapses into my lap.
Tears spring into my eyes as I adjust him, laying him in my lap. I push the hair out of his face, tracing the back of my fingers along his rough cheek.
I told him I was glad I’m here, too, but I have many regrets.
Rath’s footsteps sound softly over the grass. I don’t look up at him, but I know it’s him. He’s always there.
“How long will he sleep for?” I ask.
“At least twelve hours,” he answers in that soft, even tone of his.
I sniff hard and nod. I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye that’s threatening to leak down my face. “And you’ll give him another dose if this takes longer than that?”
“You have my word,” Rath says.
Finally, I look up at him. His dark face is made even darker from his expression. There’s a lot of hidden emotion behind those eyes. But he’s here.
“Thank you.”
Without another word, Rath bends and hoists Ian up over his shoulder. This shouldn’t be an easy task; Ian is well built and has to be pushing six feet. But Rath gets him up with no strain and starts back for the house.
I feel sick as I follow him. This was my decision. I communicated what I needed from Rath with just a look across the room and he knew exactly what I needed. And now Ian is dangling from Rath’s shoulders, mouth half open, dead to the world for the next half a day.
I did that to him.
But I had no other option.
Rath puts Ian in the room next to Lillian’s. He lays him in the bed and gives me space to say goodbye. Rath goes back to the men working on a new, advanced lock system for this bedroom.
I stare down at Ian as he sleeps. A part of me wants to touch him. To take his hand. To put my lips on his cheek. To lie next to his side one last time.
But I can’t. I want to remember our last moments together. As strained as they were, they were tender.
I don’t know that I love Ian. There was never enough time to decide that, and I couldn’t ever allow myself to sink that deep. But there’s no denying it—Ian has forever changed my heart and being.
This is so painful.
“Goodbye,” I whisper as one tear forces its way down my face.
I walk out of his room.
Rath waits for me in the foyer, beneath the chandelier. He stands there, hands always folded in front of him. His eyes follow me as I walk toward him.
“You are a brave soul, Alivia Ryan,” Rath says. “You may not be a Conrath by name, but you are one by heart. Conraths make sacrifices for those they care about.”
I blink a few times, clearing the moisture from my eyes. The time for tears is gone. “Yeah, well, it was going to happen in a few weeks, anyway. May as well get it over with.”
In a move that surprises me, Rath closes the distance between us and wraps his arms around me. “I meant it when I said that I am always here for you. After you resurrect, I will come get you, and I will help you through this transition. The house will be prepared for you.”
“Thank you,” I say through my tight throat.
“Are you ready?”
I let go of Rath and turn to see Lillian standing behind us. She looks tired, but recovered. I just nod.
A minute later, we back out of the garage. I understand now why all of the windows are so heavily tinted. My father wanted to be able to go out at any time. Lillian does wear sunglasses, but she doesn’t seem too bothered by the still shining light. It’s nearly dusk.
Silently, I say goodbye to the daylight. Goodbye to the sun. Goodbye to swimming in the heat of the day. Goodbye to tanning. From here on out, the day is only going to cause me pain.
“If she won’t kill me, you’ll do it, right?” I say, trying to distract myself. “You’ll do it right away if she won’t agree to the plan?”
Lillian nods and pulls a gun from her purse. “Within the hour,” she says.
I nod, gripping the steering wheel tighter. My knuckles are white.
I’d be so much less terrified about this situation if the resurrection process didn’t take so long. I can go offer my death as a distraction, but once I’m dead, it will take four days before I’ll rise again. I have to hope that Lillian and Rath will keep Ian safe during that time.
“Thank you again,” Lillian says. “For your blood. For trusting me. I won’t forget that.”
I look over at her, and my chest suddenly swells with appreciation. I don’t know that she’s a friend, but she’s the closest I’ve got in this demented town. “I know. And thank you for your help.”
She reaches over and pats my leg. “You’re a brave girl, Alivia. This is a terrible fate, for anyone. It isn’t fair you’re being forced into it before your time.”
And the haunted tone of her voice, I wonder again. “How long have you been a vampire?”
Lillian sighs and looks out the window. “It’s been twelve years,” she says. “I grew up in Matal, just about an hour north of here. Terrible, little run-down town. I was into fashion and couldn’t wait to get out of there. So I moved to New York as soon as I turned eighteen. I started making a name for myself. My designs were starting to catch fire. And then one day I was mugged. I was stupid, tried to fight back. The man shot me.”
It’s so easy to imagine, just like you see on those crime TV shows every night. Except the detectives didn’t get the chance to solve her murder. I imagine her waking in a morgue and walking out of the building in complete confusion.
“I was older than you,” she continues. “Forty-one and it still feels like my life was cut short.”
“You didn’t know you were a Born, did you?” I finally ask the question I’ve been suspecting for a while.
Lillian shakes her head. “I never knew my father. My mom said my dad died when I was little and I didn’t ask too many questions.”
“Vampires sure do like to sleep around, don’t they?” I ask.
Lillian actually chuckles. “Well, when you’ve got eternity, you tend to get bored easily.”
I shake my head. It’s ridiculous.
But our light mood doesn’t last long. We turn for the drive of the House and into the swamps. I remember Jasmine saying the land was cursed after Elijah’s attack. I think I’d like to learn more about these curses. Maybe in four days.
The light begins to fade, but clings to the sky. I don’t have much time until the sun goes down and Micah tries to take off to kill Ian. I very much doubt that he won’t go ahead and do it now.
I park the Jeep right in front of the doors, as I did last time. The gravel squishes more than crunches when I get out. The ground is soggy and littered with moss and grass.
I would have knocked, but Lillian just opens the door and walks inside. This is her home, after all.
It’s quiet inside. I wonder how many of the House members are still sleeping. How many hours of the day do they sleep when their preferred hours are so few? And do most of them sleep right as it gets light, or wake just as it gets dark?
We walk into the great room at the back of the house. It is laid out similarly to my own house, but this room is certainly not a ballroom. Instead, there’s a giant, empty fireplace. Large enough that I could stand inside it and not bump my head. There’s a TV stand set up in front of it, though. And several broken down couches surround it. Sitting on one, munching on a bowl of popcorn, is Cameron.
“Hey, princess,” he says to me with a smile when he sees me. He stuffs another handful of popcorn into his mouth. “And I’m glad to see you, everyone’s been worried about you.” He indicates Lillian.
“Is Jasmine still sleeping?” Lillian asks. She doesn’t use the same annoyance with Cameron that most everyone else in the House does. She’s patient and grants actual respect to him. As if he really isn’t the waste of space the rest of them treat him as.
“I don’t think so,” Cameron says, his eyes still on the TV. “Not with the racket going on in her bedroom. I think her and Micah have been busy, if you know what I mean.”
Gross.
Someone bumps into me from behind, nearly sending me to the ground. Trinity walks past me and flops down onto the couch next to Cameron.
“Excuse you,” I blurt in annoyance.
“Watch where you’re standing.” She glares at me with malice, even as she reaches for a handful of popcorn and starts in on it.
“Have some respect,” Lillian chides Trinity. “You’ll do well to remember that Alivia is royalty.”
“She’s also a human.” But there’s conflict in her voice when Trinity says this. Disgust, yes, but also a hint of longing. In their own ways, I suspect everyone here misses their human lives. Except probably Markov.
“Not for long.”
Speak of the devil.
I turn to see Markov standing in the doorway. He wears trousers, his hands in his pockets, and a light blue button up shirt. He may be psychotic, but he’s a well-dressed psycho.
“I need to speak to the House,” I say to him. Because he feels the next highest ranked beside Jasmine, and I guess Micah. I also get the impression that he’s one of the oldest vampires in the house and not just because he looks to be in his seventies. “I’m ready.”
“Oh, my dear,” he says with that scary smile of his. “No one is ever ready for this life.”
“Probably not,” I say. I try to subtly wipe the sweat of my palms on my pants. “But I’m tired of anticipating this. I want to get it over with.”
My eyes flick behind Markov to see Jasmine walk down the stairs wearing a silk robe. Her hair is a wild mess that somehow still manages to look incredible. Micah follows behind her, wearing only a pair of boxers. The second he sees me, his eyes are filled with disdain.
“But there’s still nearly three weeks until your birthday,” Jasmine says. She steps into the room and I swear Cameron and Trinity both sit up straighter. “We agreed to not call the King until then.”
I swallow hard. “I’m not talking about just calling the King. I’m talking about resurrecting. I want you to turn me. Tonight.”
The countdown thunders inside my chest. The race to the finish.
The wheels are turning inside Jasmine’s head. Once again, I’ve taken control of the situation from her hands. I’m turning the tables once more.
“I’m glad to see you are alright, Lillian,” Jasmine says, changing the topic. “We began to fear the worst after you went missing for so long.”
“I went for a walk to clear my head,” she says. Not quite the truth, but I suppose it isn’t a complete lie. “I was attacked. Thankfully, I wasn’t far from Alivia’s house and luck was with me I suppose because she found me. And killed my assailant.”
“Another rogue Bitten?” Jasmine asks, tensing up.
I nod. “I didn’t recognize him. I don’t think it was anyone from town. But they had the same toxin as before and the brand on the back of his hand.”
Jasmine mulls this over. This entire war from the dark has everyone reeling and not knowing what to do. “Thank you for taking care of one of our House members. That won’t be forgotten.”
As Markov told me once, proving loyalty in this House means far more than blood.
“Back to the reason I’m here,” I say with a deep breath. “I want to do this. Now. And I am tired of anticipating this King coming and seeing if I am his queen, which I know I’m not. But I want him called here as soon as I’ve resurrected.”
“Why are you in such a rush?” Jasmine asks, cocking her head to the side just a little.
“Because,” I begin. I’ve been practicing the lie in my head since I made the decision to drug Ian. “Everything has been out of my control since I got here. I’m tired of it. This is me facing my fate and dealing with it.”
For some reason, my eyes drift to Markov. He’s wearing that terrible smile of his. But there’s respect in his eyes and that surprises me.
“I think we should make it a grand affair,” Lillian says. She embellishes my lie. “A ball at the House. Even though Alivia has said she does not wish to rule over us, we will be a part of each other’s lives for many, many years to come, and we all hardly know each other. A House party, if you will. We could invite…guests.”
And by this, she means people to feed on.
My stomach turns, knowing that very soon, this will appeal to me. I’ll crave it. I’ll enjoy it.
“When the time comes,” I say, vocalizing the most terrifying part of my entire plan. But one I’ve very carefully thought out. “I want the entire House to take me. All nine of you. I want you all to feed on me until I’m dry and dead. It seems only fitting.”
I feel the collective intake of breath and the anticipation that builds with it. For a moment, I’m afraid of what I’ve just suggested. Maybe it’s offensive, or too extreme, even for a House of vampires.
“It’s called a Bloodletting,” Jasmine says. And when I look at her, she has a smile on her face. “It is the most honorable way to transition into a House. The ultimate act of acceptance, surrounding yourself to your House members. By letting them take from you. It is a legend among vampires and not often practiced because of the rarity of the situation that calls for it. I myself was transitioned this way.”
The way she says it, like she’s trying to undermine me, it makes my stomach boil.
I swallow hard once again and nod. Apparently, my morbid plotting isn’t original. “That’s the way I want it done.”
A conflicted smile grows on Jasmine’s face. “Very well. House members! We must get to work. We have a party to throw in an hour and a big finale just before dawn!”