At the staircase, we headed up instead of down. In soft tones, Sylvia explained that the castle connected on the top floor and we would be able to get to Lilly’s wing through the upstairs corridor.
It worked. Whether they, whoever they were, didn’t know about the top floor passageways or they hadn’t infiltrated this far into the castle yet, we met nobody on the way.
On the other side of the huge castle was a staircase that would lead us down into a different tower. There were more stairs leading up to the very top of the castle, but we’d traveled a level beneath where the four different towers raised above the rest of the building.
Sylvia knew her way around and we followed her easily. I checked back on Ophelia a few times, to make sure she wasn’t out of her mind with exhaustion. Her Magic must have kicked in though because she kept up with ease and didn’t seem to be struggling.
Down on this side, there were more of those vague sounds from the mystery invaders. The distant popping of guns, heavy feet running through the castle… there was a man shouting orders at the tops of his lungs (five guesses to who that was) and screaming at everyone and everything.
A thousand different thoughts swam through my head, but they were too muddled to make sense of. Jericho was in more than half of them, but I couldn’t decide if it was because I wanted him here to protect me or if I was grateful he had escaped the danger here.
Sylvia slowed down and took a quick glance around the corner. When she looked back at us, her face was white and she pressed her back against the cold stone wall indicating there were people around the corner.
And probably not friendly people.
She held up three fingers at us and then pretended to shoot her gun making a soft “pew, pew” noise out of her mouth.
So, there were three bad guys that we were supposed to shoot? Hopefully?
She took a deep breath, mouthed one, two, three and then we leapt from around the corner and started shooting. I hit one guy in the leg and really, truly hoped he was a bad guy since I didn’t take any time to look him over.
Ophelia hung back while Sylvia cleaned up the other two.
They seemed to be guarding a door that I had to assume led to Lilly and Talbott.
The guns all had silencers, but I didn’t trust the halls to be empty. Sylvia didn’t seem to either and opened a room across the hall where we dragged the three unconscious bodies. The men were huge, out cold and smelled horrible.
I hated the way they smelled. The rotten, sickly scent tingled the insides of my nostrils and dive-bombed straight into the pit of my stomach where it mixed things up a bit violently. Then the flashbacks came, quick and haunting, of all my time spent back in that filthy lab.
I pushed the horrifying memories away and focused on using my Magic to give me enough strength to drag the impossibly heavy man into the dark room.
Just as we finished unloading the last body into an awkward pile just inside the door, Eden and Kiran appeared in the hallway behind us.
Eden’s hair was wild and floated around her body like a black flame- alive, wild and on the verge of destruction. Kiran had removed his crown but looked as kingly as ever with a fierce, brutal expression and a sword at the ready. But they both relaxed when Sylvia walked out of the room.
“Thank God, Syl. Have you checked on Lilly?” Eden ran up to Sylvia and threw her arms around her.
“We were just about to.” Without hesitating for a moment longer, Kiran shouldered open the door to Lilly’s room and we all piled in.
Talbott sat on the bed with Lilly’s pale, sleeping head on one leg, while a dangerous looking short sword rested on the other. I felt his Magic ease just a bit when he saw his intruders were friends, not enemies.
“I will not let him take her again,” Talbott snarled. His chocolate eyes had darkened with a storm of fury that I was afraid of, even though we were technically on the same team. He looked like a Greek god, chiseled from stone but with the power to destroy earth with a single, angry breath.
“We’re not going to let him take anyone, Mate,” Kiran promised him.
“We’re leaving,” Eden added. “Now.” Looking frantically around the room, she seemed to be mumbling to herself. “We need to get to the tunnel. It’s still dry, isn’t it?”
“Do you honestly think I would let them fill it in after all your hard work?” Kiran grinned at her.
“Shut up,” she groaned.
I wondered what they were talking about since even Talbott’s lips twitched in a slight smile. But in the next second he sheathed his weapon and scooped Lilly into his arms.
“Avalon and Mimi?” Sylvia asked. She swiped a few things off a table near the head of the bed and shoved them into her deep pockets. I assumed were medical necessities for Lilly.
“I can’t get him through our connection,” Eden growled. “Radio silence or something. They were on their way to find Angelica when we parted ways.”
We followed Kiran and Eden out into the hallway again, checking every direction for more of Terletov’s henchmen. The corridors were empty though and so O and I followed them down the stairs, moving as quickly as we could to keep up.
“Is there a contingency plan?” Sylvia pressed
“No,” Kiran shook his head vehemently. “Maybe… I’m not sure. The Citadel is supposed to be impenetrable.”
“Do you want to go by the courtroom or take the dungeons?” Talbott asked once we reached the main floor.
The Throne room was somewhere to our right, and on our left the hallway stretched out to the front entrance of the ancient building.
“Where is everybody?” Eden asked in hushed whisper.
“Waiting for you,” Dmitri Terletov’s satisfied call drifted down the hallway. As if on cue he stepped out of the Throne room and waved a melodramatic hand for us to enter.
I shook my head. “No, thank you.”
His cold eyes narrowed but a cruel smile warped his mouth in a way that was completely unnatural. “Well, you don’t all have to join me,” he told us without trying to hide his amusement. “I would just like you, my Olivia. Oh, and that darling Queen of yours.” His smile widened and I could feel the tension radiating off every single one of us. Nothing could make us go in that room. Well, nothing until he tilted his head and one of his armed men stepped into the hallway holding Amelia at gunpoint. “Oh, what the hell, why don’t you all just join me. I’m sure I can find something to do with a couple Kings and their servants.”
“Fine,” Eden sighed dramatically. “Thank you for the invitation.” She began marching toward Terletov with a stubborn nose lifted in the air.
Kiran muffled a laugh and I whipped my head around unable to find this remotely humorous.
“Don’t worry,” Kiran whispered. He stepped closer to O and me and waggled his eyebrows. “It never works out for them when they piss Eden off.”
“So, she’ll get us out of this?” My voice filled with quiet desperation relaxed a little at his unspoken promise.
“More likely she’ll blow us all up.” Kiran grinned and glided after her.
I gaped after him because he did not seem at all concerned. Talbott followed him on a long sigh, Lilly still draped in his arms.
Sylvia went next, but at least she offered some encouragement. “Eden might not be able to get us out of this, girls, but Kiran and Avalon will.”
“Tut, tut, Olivia. In you go,” Terletov gestured again. “And do bring your lovely sister with you.”
I looked down at O and felt the sickening clench of anxiety tighten my stomach. My sister just recovered, just woke up and I was now forced to walk her back into the lion’s den? This did not feel right.
My mind rejected the idea of following any order Terletov gave and my body vehemently overruled the idea of willingly walking into danger without Jericho by my side.
Jericho.
Where was he?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jericho
“Son,” my dad greeted me as
soon as I stepped out of the cab onto the slate driveway of my parent’s Rio estate.
The foothills of the mountains seemed to begin just behind my parents sprawling, modern home and the thick, tropical air wrapped around my skin, pressing down heavily with its humid thickness.
“Dad,” I replied without hiding my irritation. I hated traveling commercial; it was painfully slow and I’d just spent the last fifteen hours wasting time in filthy plane terminals, surrounded by sweating, angry humans and trying to pretend first class was something to celebrate. I hated customs more than all of that, especially when I didn’t have a passport handy and the fact that I didn’t have a hanger full of vehicles to choose from. When I arrived I was forced into grabbing a cab icing the final layer of this shitty-day cake.
Alright, I knew this behavior and my attitude were wholly unacceptable. Normally all of those things wouldn’t have been so bad except I added the weight of knowing my mom and the former Queen were in danger and I’d sent Liv off to Romania without me.
“Are you alone?” he asked.
“I have a team coming. They should arrive within the half hour.”
“Let’s go inside, there are a few things we need to discuss before they join you.”
He turned around without another word, leaving me to follow after him. My father looked every bit the politician he’d spent his life fighting to be. Sleeked-back, dark brown hair with just the hint of gray highlighted his age at the temples and streaked to the back of his head. His frame hadn’t deteriorated at all, despite his almost four hundred years; he still stood tall, coiled with muscle and an arrogance that could only be born from a position that terrified most others. His usually bronzed skin was the only indicator that he felt concerned for my mom. He looked pale and sickly flushed at the same time, almost like he could lapse into shock at any moment.
He pushed open the carved walnut door that represented my childhood and a lifetime of memories that should belong to someone else. Stepping inside my home I felt like a stranger here. I did not belong.
Somewhere in my teenage years my ideals and beliefs separated from my parents’ ingrained philosophies. I began to think for myself. I began to see the world through moral, equalized, compassionate lenses, shucking the prejudiced elitism my dad expected to instill in me.
The home I walked into had some good memories, but they were overshadowed by the tone of what my Kingdom used to be and the people my parents still were.
I did not like being back here.
And I did not like spending time with my father.
The few seconds we’d shared in each other’s presence only solidified that we had nothing in common. I didn’t celebrate that there was nothing of a relationship between us anymore, but I knew our individual isolation was necessary.
Until he realized that his racism and genocidal tendencies were wrong, there was nothing I could do for him, and even less that I wanted from him.
In the sunken living room, he gestured to a comfortable leather chair. I sunk down, exhausted from the last few days and my recent travel. I used my Magic to dispel the jet lag and bone-deep fatigue, but I felt it still hovering on my edges, threatening to sweep over me like a tsunami.
It didn’t help that Olivia was so far away, with her Magic closely at her side. I wanted her Magic.
Needed it.
Craved it.
Or rather… craved her.
Separating from her had been harder than I could imagine and I was more than anxious to get back to her. Even though our Magic hadn’t entirely split apart, despite our distance, something didn’t feel right about the connection. I wanted to get back to her as quickly as I could and fix that.
I wanted to do more than connect our Magic.
It was time for us to have a conversation. Time for me to lay down the law.
Or at least make a case why we could work out as a real, devoted couple.
“Tell me what happened.” My father stood before me, in tailored pants and a pressed oxford that had been unbuttoned at the collar. His tie was notably missing. He looked… stressed out. It was strange for me to see him this way.
His mossy green eyes came to rest on me and something ominous flashed in their depths. “I have never understood the Monarchy you support.”
This did not sound good.
He continued, “You murdered a King and overthrew a government that thrived for centuries. And you did it all on the whim of children.”
My hands gripped the arm rests of the chair I sat in, my fingers digging into the soft leather, scratching at the smooth fabric. “I did not come here to listen to another lecture on how Lucan deserved more. He was a tyrant. He killed at will. He was actively involved in eradicating an entire race of people.”
My father snorted, “People… hardly.”
“Where is mom? Where is Analisa?”
“Do you know what a good politician does, Jericho? You’ve so readily accepted your role in the new regime that I have to assume you’re equally ready to become the politician you portray. But underneath the pomp, the circumstance, the celebrity of it all… do you know your true purpose?”
I shook my head, too angry to speak.
“A good politician ignores what his people want and gives them what he knows they need.”
My father’s words landed in the room with the lilting cadence of a slogan, but with the depth and destruction of a suicide note.
“That sounds a little bit like civilization rape,” I drawled, hoping beyond anything that he wasn’t serious.
He laughed lightly, like I’d just told a mildly amusing joke. “It is a little bit like that, isn’t it? The masses are stupid, Jericho. They have been since the beginning of time. Sure, there’s intelligence to be found when we weed them out one by one; but as a whole they are ignorant, fickle and easily swayed. They don’t know what they want and they sure as hell don’t know what they need. That’s where we come in.”
“We? As in you and me?”
“You and me, Lucan, any of the Regents… Terletov. Politicians, Jericho.” He paused to survey his opulent house, breathing in the fresh air that drifted through the open windows, even if it was thick with moisture. “We have a responsibility, Jericho. We were born and bred to create countries and influence the future. Is it more important who leads a country or what that country stands for? Of course, you would assume that the two are closely related, and to some degree you would be right. But it is not the people that decide what the leadership believes, rather their leaders that decide what they believe. We tell them what to think and they think it. We tell them what to do and they do it. You are misguided when you think that handing them their free will can accomplish anything but confusion, chaos and delusion.”
“The only one confused is me.” I held onto my patience with a single thread of familial responsibility and nothing else.
“You’ve lost, Jericho. Again. Your Kings and Queens will die within the hour and the Monarchy will once again be placed in capable hands. We struggled for millennia to purify our Magic and within a few short years you and your friends have all but undone our hard work. We will stand for it no more.”
“This is about racism? The Shifters?” I couldn’t help but feel dumbfounded. The core of the Kendrick Monarchy had been about blood purity and racism, I knew that. But with Lucan especially, there had been so many other factors- greed, power, Delia and Justice… The Shape-Shifters were a huge part of Lucan’s ticket, but not more so than his thirst for true Immortality and hunger for power. Even with Terletov, I felt that he had some greater creed to live by. He wasn’t just murdering Shape-Shifters; he was using them, creating a race of super soldiers. Maybe he didn’t want the Magic free, but did his entire rebellion center on racial prejudice?
“Of course this is about those animals!” My father’s eyes darkened with cold, dangerous fury. His entire body seemed to vibrate.
“Are you working with Terletov?” I jumped to my feet and felt the gutting fury ri
p through me. Up until this moment I had believed it was a possibility but never really suspected my father of this kind of treachery. I knew he had sore feelings when Lucan fell; his pride had been hurt when his title stripped away, but I couldn’t make myself believe he would stoop to this level of depravity.
“Dmitri needed support. And he championed a cause I could stand behind.” My father’s expression became cocky, self-righteous with conviction.
“What have you done?” I demanded, barely recognizing the stripped, gravelly sound to my own voice.
“No more than what you did.” His nose lifted in the air as if he were examining an insect under his polished shoe. “You stopped believing the Monarchy perpetuated your causes and political opinions, so you found a way to propagate them anyway. You didn’t agree with the Monarchy that had been chosen by the people, supported by the people and revered by the people, so you forced a coup and then forced your will. We have used similar tactics with greater results.”
I was now vibrating with anger, my vision doused completely in red. This was the man that raised me? This was the man I called Father?
“You’re sick,” I told him. “You’ve bought into filthy lies and people are dying because of your sadistic illusions.”
“Your right is not better than mine. Your will is not farther reaching than mine. At least not when it comes to the majority. They don’t ask you to feel for them, Son; they simply ask you to think for them. Guilt is left for the weak man, regrets for the loser.”
“The people will fight this.”
“The people will follow whoever sits on the Throne. And the small percentage of the population that would object are being rounded up and used to serve a greater purpose.” He paused and smiled softly. “Most of the population is already on edge with the imbalance. They quake in fear and hide in their homes. They only care about stability, Jericho; not who gives it to them.”
“You will not get away with this,” I told him, feeling like every bad sci-fi movie since the eighties but unable to stop the words. They were true.