Night's End

Chapter 4

“Grandfather? You’re my grandfather?” I didn’t know how to react. I’d barely gotten a chance to know my father, let alone learn anything about his heritage. The only thing I knew is that he had been born into the Court of Snow and Ice. Check had been his oath brother, pledged to marry Lainule, but the moment she laid eyes on my father, the rest was history. Wrath had fallen in love with her and changed his loyalty to the Court of Rivers and Rushes. That my guard leader bore them no ill will both humbled and amazed me, but Check had become their most loyal supporter.

Hunter slowly circled me, eyeing me up and down, his expression carefully set to neutral. I restrained any impulse to throw my arms around his neck and give him a hug. One thing I’d learned the hard way, starting with my mother, is that blood didn’t always mean fealty.

“My son did you a disservice by not telling you about your heritage early on.” Hunter did not look pleased. “You have much to learn. You know nothing about your people—my people. I know”—he held up his hand when I started to protest—“I realize this is not your fault, but you must spend time with us, to understand what your heritage and lineage means.”

My heart leaped. This is what I wanted, though I wondered if the Uwilahsidhe would resent me, considering my background. Hell, when it came down to it, I knew very little about the history of the magic-born, either. Krystal had kept me in the dark. Whatever she’d been taught, she’d repressed with the booze and drugs, and a deep disdain for her own abilities.

“You wouldn’t mind teaching me?” As I spoke, my voice cracked, and I realized this meant more to me than I could ever have imagined.

The only family member who’d ever truly loved me was my aunt Heather, and she was long gone now. I’d had to play a part in her death, which still hurt. Rhiannon and I were rebuilding our relationship—so far, so good. But when it came down to it, Ulean was the closest thing to family that I had left. She alone I trusted not to let me down. While Grieve was my husband and I loved him with all my heart, I also knew how fragile love could be. It was hard to let myself believe that we might have our happy-ever-after ending.

I guess Hunter sensed my need because he paused, staring down into my eyes, and his face filled with a compassion that I seldom saw in any of the Cambyra. He placed his hand on my shoulder.

“My granddaughter. I know your story, and I know what you’ve been through so far in your short life. It’s never easy to be destiny’s pawn, nor to believe that your existence was engineered merely to fill a need. You are Wrath’s daughter. You are my blood. Beyond the crown you wear on your head, beyond the title you assumed . . . you are my family, and I will do what I can to help you connect with your roots.” He backed away then, turning to Strict. “I have scouts I trust. They are wild and feral, belonging more to the wing than to any Court or allegiance. I will send them on reconnaissance to see if we can search for the upstart and her armies.”

And with that he turned to go, but stopped. He glanced over his shoulder and, looking at me, said, “I will be in touch, girl. Now is not the time to begin your studies, though I know you are champing at the bit. But after this war is over, we will take wing and fly together. You will learn what it truly means to be one of the Uwilahsidhe. Half-blood . . . is as good as full.”

And then he shimmered and in a blur, transformed back into his owl form, and winging his way through the falling snow, he vanished into the depths of the Golden Wood.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to laugh. I had a grandfather. I had family and roots. Krystal and Heather had spoken very little of their parents. My mother and her sister had been closed mouth. After Heather died, Rhiannon had confided that she’d found nothing about our relatives in the trunks that had remained undamaged during the fire at the Veil House. Our mothers had been chosen by the Fae. Rhiannon’s father was also Cambyra Fae, but a snake-shifter.

Neither of us had known the truth about our fathers until the past few weeks. We were still navigating our way through the labyrinth of what felt like a conspiracy surrounding our birth. And truth was we had been bred for the thrones of Winter and Summer. Hunter was correct in his statement that our very existence had been engineered. We were created to fill a need rather than conceived out of love. So many unanswered questions remained, that I doubted we’d ever know the full story.

I turned back to Grieve, who smiled at me. He held out his arms, and I slipped into his embrace, pressing my head against his chest.

“I have a grandfather,” I whispered.

“I know.” He kissed the top of my head. “Hunter is very old and very wise, and from what little I know about him, he seldom takes form in human shape anymore. He’s one of the elders of your father’s people, you know.”

“I didn’t know, but it doesn’t surprise me.” The wind was picking up, and the snow was starting to fall harder. As much as I wanted to shift into owl form and follow my grandfather, he was right—now was not the time.

When—if—we all came out of this war intact, then I would try to forge a relationship with him. A spark in my heart told me that I’d be very disappointed if it didn’t work out. Family had always been important to me, but I’d had to push the desire into the background in order to put my focus where it had mattered: surviving day to day, and sometimes hour to hour.

“We’d best get a move on. Rhiannon will be waiting for us—I sent word for them to meet us at the Veil House, and though I said it was important, I gave no clue as to what, in case the messenger . . . well . . . in case whoever carried the message happens to be the spy we’re searching for.”

“What will you do about the others? About Luna and Peyton and Kaylin?” Grieve let out a heavy sigh. “We have to figure out a way to test them.”

“I know what to do about everyone except Kaylin, but in a sense he’s the most important. He can examine their minds, but who can look into his heart and find out if he’s safe?”

A little voice inside me whispered, How can you ever trust anybody? Sometimes you just have to step away from the fear and take a leap of faith.

With that thought ringing in my mind, I nodded, and we headed out again as Strict made his good-byes and returned to the Eldburry Barrow.

The Veil House had belonged to my aunt Heather, and before her my grandmother and great-aunt. From what little I knew, the house at the end of Vyne Street had belonged to the women of the family for generations. It was also centered over a major ley line—an energy vortex. Aunt Heather had figured that out from notes in a journal we’d found. What she’d planned to do with that knowledge neither Rhiannon nor myself had figured out, and we might never know, but even if we couldn’t reason out why Heather had researched it, we might be able to make use of the knowledge in the future.

With Rhiannon and myself living in our respective realms, Luna, Peyton, and Kaylin had taken over the house and were keeping it safe for us. Luna had assumed the business I’d planned to open—Wind Chimes, a magical emporium. Peyton was working hard to open her magical PI firm—Mystical Eye Investigations. They would host them from the house to avoid having to rent out space in town.

A part of me mourned the loss of my plans and the loss of the life I’d started to lay out for myself. Whoever said you can never go home again was right. No matter how good—or bad—your home was like, when you try to revisit the past, you find that everything has shifted.

And for me, that shift had been drastic. On one hand, I had a purpose; I had a new life and an amazing one at that. On the other, I’d been dragged in from a ragtag existence, but one where I understood the game. I knew how to hedge my odds on the streets, but coming back to New Forest, I’d plunged into a surreal nightmare. As rough as things had been walking the underbelly of the cities, I’d never had to kill before. I’d never had to fight a war.

The edge of the Golden Wood opened into the backyard of the Veil House, which was at the end of a cul-de-sac on Vyne Street. Seeing the house standing there, rebuilt from the fire that had destroyed part of it, made me long for my old life even more. I’d never aspired to be a queen. I’d never once played the princess when I was a child. Now the neighborhood and the house looked so cozy and inviting that I let out a soft sigh. Grieve put his hand on my arm, and my wolf shifted on my belly, letting out an anxious huff.

“I’m all right,” I told him. “Just . . . nostalgic. But I’m nostalgic for what might have well been a dream. I only miss the life I had before I was six, before Krystal dragged me away. I remember it through a child’s eyes. For all I know, it might have been hell on earth for Heather and Krystal. Maybe Krystal left for a good reason. I’ll never know, not now. Everybody who could tell me the truth is dead.”

“You miss what might have been.” Grieve gazed at me, his eyes black as night with glittering stars. “But love, that’s not a bad thing. I, too, think of what might have been. . . .”

I nodded. He had his own demons. He’d been born to the Court of Rivers and Rushes, and Myst had taken him forever into the ice and chill. My Summer Prince was now as bound to the Winter as I was. Together we would rule a land neither one of us would have picked, if given a choice.

Check stood guard by my side while Fearless reconnoitered the area. Ulean swept past, also checking for hidden threats and dangers. A moment later she was back.

The area is clear, but they have been past. The Shadow Hunters. I can feel their energy on the slipstream. Their hunger is strong. And Cicely? In town . . . there is trouble. Horrible trouble.

Vampire trouble?

No, Lannan’s people still sleep—it is not yet dusk, even though the storm holds the light at bay. Myst’s hunters . . . They are feeding.

Her thoughts were tinged with pain, and I cringed. New Forest, Washington, had already seen a decrease in population recently, as people fled from the attacks that had run rampant through the city. A few people had started to trickle back, but fresh murders might destroy the city for good.

New Forest was a small town near Snoqualmie, Washington—nestled between the larger urban areas that comprised the GSMA—the Greater Seattle Metropolitan Area—and the Cascade Mountains. But sometimes it seemed as though New Forest was off the grid. The town felt so disconnected from the other cities and communities. I couldn’t remember if it had been that way when I was a child, but ever since I’d returned, the city felt severed from most of the world.

I steeled myself as Fearless returned. While he didn’t have the same information regarding the town that Ulean had, he verified that he’d seen no sign of the Vampiric Fae around the perimeters of the land. Nodding, I motioned toward the house, and we strode out of the woods into the clearing and raced across the wide lawn separating the Golden Wood from the town.

The door opened as we neared it. Luna stood there. Short, plump, and curvy, the yummanii bard motioned us to hurry in. She stood back as we burst through the door. The television was on, and she held her finger to her lips as she bustled back into the living room.

We followed.

There, Luna, Peyton, and Kaylin were watching the news. Peyton was part Native American. She was half werepuma and half magic-born. Rex, her father, had recently reentered her life, only to be struck down by one of our enemies—a vampire named Geoffrey, who was now dust. And her mother had betrayed us and almost managed to kill me. She, too, had died at the hands of the vampires. Peyton had taken both losses hard, but she was stoic, as usual, and doing her best to weather the situation.

She waved at us, but her gaze was still glued to the television. Another moment, and I understood why, as the newscaster returned.

“We repeat—stay inside your homes. Lock the doors. The attacks continue and a representative from Lord Lannan’s estate has informed us that the danger we face still stems from the Vampiric Fae—from the Shadow Hunters.”

Lannan must have had a speech prepared for this eventuality. As much as I loathed the vampire, I had to admit he was smart, especially for someone who hadn’t wanted the responsibility of being Regent. But the Crimson Queen had decreed him in charge, and he would obey because, as loathsome as he could be, Lannan was loyal to the throne, and to his sister Regina—the Emissary for the Queen. He was also Regina’s lover, but that was beside the point.

“I repeat, the Regent requires that you stay indoors. Defend yourselves should you need to, but be aware: These creatures cannot be reasoned with; they are cunning, intelligent, and out for blood. Do not approach them. Do not attempt to bargain with them—they are ruthless killing machines. Hide yourselves, and tonight, the patrols will be out in full force to counter their attacks. During the meantime, the city council is appealing to the Courts of Winter and Summer to send aid, and to the Consortium.”

Rhiannon was standing to one side, and when the newscast ended, she crossed the room, arms out. Without thought for decorum, I gave her a tight hug, and the warmth of her skin almost burned me. I stood back, gazing at her.

“You feel like you’ve got a fever.” Cocking my head, I searched her eyes. She looked worried, but beneath the worry, I could sense happiness, and also exhaustion.

She returned my gaze. “And you feel like you’re chilled to the bone. You look as tired as I feel.”

“We’ve both got a lot to learn and not much leeway as far as time.” I paused, feeling oddly unsure what to say next. We hadn’t seen each other for a couple of weeks, and a subtle distance had grown between us.

“We should respond to their request.” Rhiannon looked as uncomfortable as I did. Her hair was flame red, and she practically crackled as she moved. While I could control the winds, she had power over flame, and the sparks arced off her body, a flickering of pale orange that haloed around her.

I glanced at Luna and the others. “Can you give us a few minutes? I need to talk to Rhiannon and Chatter about something.”

There was a flash in Luna’s eyes that told me I’d hurt her feelings, but she motioned to the others and led them out of the parlor, followed by Rhiannon’s guards. Check and Fearless stayed behind with us. I closed the door and locked it.

“What’s going on?” Rhia sounded more like herself, and as I turned, her gaze flickered toward the door. “Something’s up, Cicely. I didn’t want to give away anything in front of the others, but I can feel it. My advisor, Edge, told me that Strict contacted our shamans. They put her and my private guards to the test this morning. They also searched Chatter’s mind. Just what were they looking for?” A hint of anger colored her voice. I didn’t blame her.

“Thank gods. We are at least a leg up, then. The guards you brought with you? They all passed the loyal test?”

“Yes, and I don’t mind telling you, it wasn’t any fun watching the process. Now tell us, what’s going on?” Sitting on the sofa, she patted the cushion beside her, and Chatter joined her.

Grieve and I sat opposite, on the loveseat. I glanced at the closed door, then lowered my voice. “There is a spy in my Court working for Myst. We don’t know who it is, yet. But we also encountered Shadow Hunters in my realm, and we know Myst is on the move again. For all we know, there may be spies within your Court as well.”

Rhiannon was silent for a moment. Then, “Dear gods . . . she’s back, already?”

“We knew she wouldn’t take long. She just managed to regroup faster than we feared.” I gave a little shrug. “So we have to find this spy, and any more that might be hiding in the shadows. I think we should go on the offensive.” Pausing, I looked into my cousin’s eyes. She was nodding. “Also, on the way here? I met my grandfather.”

“What?” She leaned forward. “Would that be . . . my grandfather, too?”

I realized she thought I was talking about our maternal grandfather, whom neither one of us had ever known. “Oh, no, sweet. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get your hopes up. I met Wrath’s father. His name is Hunter, and he’s one of the elders in the Uwilahsidhe. He’s going to scout for the Shadow Hunters’ hideout while we try to clear the rest of our guards through the loyalty ritual.” Once more, I glanced back at the door.

Ulean, can you check the other side and make certain nobody is listening at the door?

A moment later, she swept around me, a faint gust lightly ruffling my hair. No one there, Cicely. They wait in the kitchen, and they worry.

Thank you. I hate that I have to keep them out of the loop, but it’s imperative until we know what we’re dealing with.

“That’s not all. My shamans told me that we must verify that Luna, Peyton, Ysandra, and Kaylin are loyal.” Before she could say anything I held up my hand. “No, I know—how can we question them? But remember what happened with Anadey. And . . . Leo.”

Rhiannon hung her head. “Yeah. I’d rather forget Leo, but I get your point. You’re right, of course. But how do we do that?”

“I think Kaylin can do it—especially since his demon is so much stronger now. He can enter their minds and sort through their thoughts.” Even as the words came out of my mouth, I cringed. I knew how it sounded. Hell, I knew how the others would take it.

But to my surprise, Rhiannon nodded. “I agree. But how do we verify Kaylin’s loyalty? We can’t just take his word for it.”

“Therein lies our dilemma. The shamans can’t test him—he isn’t Fae. He isn’t even half-Fae.” And then I stopped. Maybe . . . there might be one person we could turn to. A seer. An oracle, actually. But he wasn’t human, and hadn’t been for thousands of years. And whether he’d help us . . . that was a sticking point.

“You are thinking something. I know it. What are you thinking?” Rhia leaned forward and took my hands. “Tell us.”

I looked from her to Grieve to Chatter, wincing. “I don’t want to suggest this. Please know that this is the last thing I’d suggest if I could think of any other way.”

“The Consortium?” Rhiannon frowned. “I’m not so sure about them.”

“No. We can’t trust them any farther than we can throw them.”

“Then who?” Grieve sounded suspicious, and I realized that my wolf was transmitting my nervousness to him. No matter what, I couldn’t lie to him—I couldn’t hide things from him. We were linked in too many ways.

“I’m thinking . . . we take him to Crawl.”

A beat passed, then another—and then they all burst out in loud shouts, just as I thought would happen. I said nothing. Let them tear the suggestion to shreds, and then I’d explain myself.

“Cicely, are you crazy?”

“You can’t be serious!”

“After what Crawl did to you, you seriously are suggesting turning Kaylin over to him?”

After a moment, they fell silent, staring at me. I stared back, unwavering.

“Got that out of your system? Okay, seriously, do we have a fucking choice? The facts are simple: We’re facing the end of our world if Myst wins. Suppose she manages to find our heartstones? Then, not only do you and I die, Rhia, but so do our people. We have thousands of lives resting in our hands now. Do you want to risk it all?”

“I guess . . . you’re right about that.”

“You bet I’m right. We aren’t playing penny ante poker anymore. We’re in the big leagues, playing for high stakes. We can’t afford to be squeamish. We can’t afford mercy.” I winced. “The truth is, we can’t afford to spare our friends a little pain.” I fell silent, leaning forward as I pressed my hands against my knees. My jeans felt rough under my palms.

“But he tried to kill you.” Grieve’s voice went cold, and his lips were curled back, baring his teeth. He looked ready to shift into his wolf form at any minute.

“Of course he tried to kill me. Crawl’s a fucking freakshow. But he’s also an oracle, and he also hates the Indigo Court. Crawl can’t lie. Or at least, I don’t think he can. We don’t even know if he’ll do it. But if we take Kaylin to him, chances are good he’ll be able to tell us if we can trust him. Crawl can see into the future, to some degree. And into people. He looked into me when the vampires first took me before him.”

“I still don’t like it, but you may be right.” Chatter surprised me, being the first to take my side.

“After we verify Kaylin is still on our side, then he can probe Luna’s, Peyton’s, and Ysandra’s minds.” I began to feel the breeze pick up around me as the winds responded to my mood.

“Why not take all of them to him, then? Why just Kaylin?” Rhiannon sounded genuinely confused.

I sighed. “Kaylin’s the strongest. He can withstand having that freakazoid in his mind. I don’t think the others could. Crawl . . . You don’t know what he’s like. I do. He’s like an insect that won’t stop. Ruthless and alien. But Kaylin . . . Well, ever since his demon woke up, he’s changed. He can meet Crawl’s inspection and pass through.”

So much had gone on. We were all changing; we were all shifting. The world would never be the same again, and we’d all have to man up.

Rhia let out a soft sigh. “I can’t argue with your logic.”

“Do you really think I’d hand Kaylin over to the Blood Oracle if I didn’t think he could make it through?” I stared at my hands. But then I shook my head. “You don’t have to answer me. I am honest enough to admit that I might do it, if I thought it were the only way to save the day.”

“Oh, Cicely—we know you wouldn’t do that.” Chatter tried to cheer me up, but I shook away his support.

“Yes, I would. And don’t tell me you wouldn’t—any one of you. Too much rests on our shoulders. We don’t have the leeway to be merciful anymore, not if it means we endanger everyone around us.”

“You’re right.” Rhiannon stood. “I stand by you. Chatter, you are my consort. You will abide by our wishes?”

Chatter merely nodded.

Grieve looked torn, but then he shrugged, giving in. “Okay, then. How do we work this? If there’s a chance that Kaylin is a spy, we can’t forewarn him. Or the others.”

I frowned, thinking. Grieve was right. We couldn’t take any chances, especially after the speech I’d just given. I crossed to the window and stared out into the snowy afternoon. It was nearing dusk.

“We talk to them as if everything’s normal. When they ask what’s up, we tell them . . . We’ll tell them that we needed a break. That the adjustments to life in the Barrows is daunting, and we are taking a few days out, to regroup. I’ll call Regina and have her summon us to talk to them. At dusk, we’ll all go over to Lannan’s estate. I’ll talk to him and Regina in private, and if they agree, we can take Kaylin to the Blood Oracle right then, before he’d have a chance to get away. And then, while still there, he can check the others. We’ll need to get Ysandra over here on some pretext though.”

“That shouldn’t be hard; she wanted to talk to Luna about some sort of magic they’re cooking up.” Rhiannon grimaced. “I dread the aftermath of this, though. I know it’s necessary, but the fallout is going to be problematic, at best.”

“I know, Rhia. I know. I’ve prepared myself to lose friends. I hate the thought, but there’s nothing else we can do.”

“Your Majesty, if you don’t mind me interjecting a thought: Kaylin is still weak from the attack a month ago, but he should be able to handle himself.” Check had been listening in, but now he moved forward.

“Do you think he’s well enough to handle the Blood Oracle?”

“Is anybody ever well enough to handle him, Your Highness?”

As Check posed the question to me, I closed my eyes and once again found myself in the grips of the Blood Oracle as he sought to drain me dry, to feast on my blood.

He was like an insect—long and lean and gangly, with limbs like hollow husks, except they were strong. Oh, so strong, and oh, so dangerous.

Crawl scuttled, shifted without seeming to move. He was a vampire—a dangerously old and mad vampire. He had been sired by the Crimson Queen herself, and he lived in a prison because he had long ago forgotten how to listen to orders, how to keep from being a one-man scourge on those who still walked with blood pumping through their hearts.

Crawl, the Blood Oracle, the seer of the vampires, the father of vision who foretold the future and who remembered the past. He was mad as a hatter, mad as a hare. Lost in a world of his own, he spoke in riddles, doling out dribs and drabs of information in return for the sacrifice of life, the sweet force of the veins.

Locked in his prison, a world between the worlds, he waited for an opportunity to free himself. He’d been loosed on the town not that long ago by the renegade vampires Geoffrey and Leo, and he’d fed and fed, drinking deep and casting aside the bodies. But Crawl hungered for more; there was always the thirst, the burning need to feed, and so he had driven his way through the people of New Forest, as ruthless as a spider spinning her web for flies.

People were chattel—food and nourishment. Our lives, our hopes and dreams, our desires were moot in the face of the Blood Oracle. He fed off pain, licked it up like a delicious syrup on top of ice cream or cake. He reveled in it, without care, without worry, without any shred of guilt.

It had been so long since Crawl had been human—yummanii—that he’d lost any semblance to the people on whom he now fed. He was beyond the scope of most of the vampires, and even the Emissary and her brother feared him. Crawl could just as easily stake their hearts, cast them aside, and move on, as he could feast off their slaves.

And the Blood Oracle had, three times, had me in his grasp. He’d fed off of me—the last time nearly killing me. Lannan had stepped in, brought me back at a cost that I could never forget. As much as he disgusted me, the hedonistic golden boy had been responsible for saving me, and I owed him a great debt.

And now I was planning on turning my friend over to the monster. That’s what Crawl was: a monster, a creature, no longer anywhere near human. I knew he would ravage Kaylin’s mind.

But . . . but . . . a small voice whispered. Kaylin is demonic. He can handle this journey, and he will understand why you did it.

Kaylin’s soul was wedded to a creature as alien to the yummanii as was Crawl. When we had woken the night-veil up to consciousness, we had not only saved Kaylin’s life but opened the door for him to change. He would never be the same—could never be the same.

And Crawl? Crawl would strip him down and sift through his psyche, but Kaylin was resilient. And he would come through intact.

And if he’s the spy?

The question raced through my mind. I didn’t want to think about it, but I already knew the answer. I knew what would happen. If Crawl told us that Kaylin was our downfall, I would leave him there. Let the Blood Oracle bleed him out, tear him to pieces, rend his soul even as he ripped at his body. Because if any friend of mine had turned sides, had voluntarily aligned themselves with the Indigo Court, they had automatically forfeited all protection, and my love for them would shatter like crystal.

I looked up. The others were waiting.

“Let them in. They’ll know something is up, but we have to lie. I’ll step out and call Regina’s day-runner in a moment, then we’ll leave for Lannan’s estate shortly after. Dusk will fall by the time we get there. I think I can convince Regina and Lannan to play along with us.”

At that, Grieve gave me a dark look, but I merely stared back at him. I would do whatever I needed to, and he knew it. And I knew he supported me. Even if it meant handing myself over to Lannan again. Even if it meant sacrificing myself at the altar of the hedonistic vampire.

“Open the door,” I said. And Check did.

As we neared the estate where Lannan and Regina lived, I shifted uncomfortably. We’d stopped on the way to pick up Ysandra, the last member of our inner Circle. She gazed at me, silently, and I had the feeling she knew something was up, but she said nothing.

The others had been less than thrilled about the idea of visiting the vampire compound, but there wasn’t much they could do. They deferred to us now that we’d taken the thrones.

I’d called Regina to tell her that we were on our way and to ask her and Lannan to wait for us—that we had something important to ask them. By the time we arrived she’d be awake and get our message.

A few minutes later, we pulled into the compound. It was hard on Grieve and the other Fae, for they couldn’t ride in cars so had to run along beside the vehicles. My father had done his best to ride in my Pontiac one time, but it had jarred him greatly, and he’d hated every minute of it.

I was driving Rhiannon and myself. The others followed in Kaylin’s car—if one of them was betraying me, not such a good idea to be alone in a car with them without my guards. I’d had to play some fancy footwork to explain why we were riding separately, but again, it seemed that making up stories on the spot was becoming a strong point of mine, even though it made me feel like a louse.

As the estate—a magnificent mansion that rose three stories aboveground, and who knew how many below—came into view, I let out a soft sigh. The grounds were exquisitely kept, though they lay below a cloak of snow, and the borders of the estate were patrolled by armed guards—vampires during the night, and their day-runner guards during the day.

We pulled in, and I turned off the engine. I glanced at Rhiannon. Even though we were half-Fae and had been transformed by our coronations, we weren’t affected by iron like our people. The magic-born blood in our veins helped prevent us from succumbing to the pain of the metal.

“You know I wouldn’t do this if I could think of anything else.” I wanted my cousin, above everyone else, to understand how much this went against my nature.

But she reached out, put her hand over mine. “I know. Cicely . . . when I burned that little girl to death . . . even though I didn’t intend for it to happen, the fact is that on that day, I realized I could never go back. I could never again be the person I’d been before then. No matter what I did, I’d always be affected by my actions that day. My anger had been my undoing.”

“I’m not angry at him, though.” I bit my lip, hurt that she might think so.

But she merely smiled. “No. You aren’t angry at him, not at all. And yet you are ordering that he undergo a painful and dangerous test. The reason you are doing this? Because on the day we accepted the crowns, on the day we created our heartstones and took the thrones, we changed who we were. We’ll never again be just Cicely and Rhiannon. We’ll always—forever—be affected by the choice we made that day. And every action we take will be affected by those choices. It is what it is.”

It was then that I began to understand something about my cousin. I’d been worried she might not be strong enough to withstand the changes we underwent. But now I saw that Rhiannon had developed an inner strength. Yes, it was a quiet strength, but it was resilient. Rhia had landed smack in front of her demons long ago, and even though she’d run from them for a while, she finally had turned to face them, and to own them.

I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed it gently. “Twin cousins, forever.”

“Fire and ice.”

“Amber and jet. Summer and Winter.” With a soft smile, I unbuckled my seat belt and slid out of the car, meeting Check and Fearless as they raced over to my side. Rhia’s guards joined her.

As Kaylin and the others fell in behind us, we turned to the mansion and—with a cloud looming over my shoulders—I led the way into the ambush we’d set for our friend.