Hereditary (11 page)

“Well, I suppose we can be grateful that I didn’t bust your lip then,” Cale said sarcastically.

I looked around until I saw the wine bottle behind me, and then I grabbed it, struggling to my feet.

“We need to go back to the party, there’s a reason he was all the way out here, I don’t think he’ll bother me if we’re surrounded by people.”

Cale nodded and turned to stalk back, his shoulders set in agitation, while I looked down at Rose’s beautiful dress, hoping that I hadn’t somehow ruined it. It seemed to be fine, and I passed a hand through my hair, trying to tame it back to perfection until the little flower pins that she had stuck everywhere began to hinder my progress.

“Here.” Hazen stepped forward and scooped a section of hair from my neck—where it had fallen out of its holder—and deftly re-pinned it.

I expected him to step back straight away and avoid eye-contact, but his hand slid from my temple to my cheek, the backs of his knuckles sliding across my cheekbone as he looked down at me.

“I wish I knew which feelings were mine,” he said softly, as his thumb dragged across my lower lip.

He was staring at my lips as though it had been him kissing me before instead of Cale, and then something dawned on me.

“Do you feel everything he’s feeling, while you’re sharing his mind?”

His eyes seemed to darken, and his hand dropped.

“Yes.”

I felt his desire then, as he stared at me, warring with feelings of his own, and the answering monster in me stirred to life.

“Oh crap,” I groaned, watching his fists clench, and a muscle begin to tick in the side of his neck, the only sign that he was resisting.

“You need to stop that, Bea, before I lose it.”

I wanted to tell him that it wasn’t that simple, that as soon as I felt his desire, it was only a downward spiral from there, but I was already getting distracted by the heat in his dark eyes, and the answering burn that pushed me forward, until I was almost touching him. He didn’t move away, and despite the pain I saw momentarily flash through his eyes, his hand slipped around my waist, pulling me closer, until my body was sliding against his. And then his hand moved higher, tracing the curve of my spine and burying into the hair at the base of my skull, tilting my head up to his.

“Stop it, Bea,” he repeated, his voice firm despite how tightly he held me.

“Would it be so bad?” I found myself saying.

He growled, and strangely, I felt his desire suddenly increase, so much so that when it swept through me, it made me dizzy, but still he didn’t kiss me, and when he spoke, his words were ground out through gritted teeth.

“If you still want me to kiss you when all of this is over tomorrow,
then
you can look at me like that. Not now. Not like this.”

It must have been his display of strength that had me finally concentrating, because I highly doubted that it was my own. I closed my eyes, and immediately opened my mind to the connection, grappling with trying to stop everything else from seeping through along with the small sliver of power. It didn’t quite cool my desire, but it took the urgent edge off, and made me feel very much in control again.

“You’re doing it,” Hazen sounded surprised. “Your glamor is returning.”

“Tell me when it’s done.”

It was a few moments later when he finally answered, and as he did, his arms fell away from me, and I took a hasty, embarrassed step backwards, my eyes finally opening again as I closed off the connection.

“Let’s get back, before Nareon returns and blows up all the hard work I just did.” It was a terrible joke, and he didn’t look too amused by it, but he turned obligingly all the same, and I fell into step for the silent walk back.

Almost as soon as we re-entered the party, Kaylee flew toward us and launched herself on Hazen, a display that was undoubtedly meant for me. And yet, I couldn’t seem to look away. Until I remembered that Hazen could read my mind, and then I quickly jerked my head in the other direction, and began my search for Cale. I found him at a table, with one fae girl draped over his lap, and another sitting on the table in front of him, pouring wine into his mouth from the bottle. Deciding not to disturb him, I quickly replaced my old bottle with a new one, and moved back inside, where I found a somewhat hidden nook behind a statue of an angel, where I could curl up on the ledge of the statue’s base, and be mostly hidden behind the arch of its wings. I had no idea what the time was, but it had to be getting close now, and I decided that maybe if I was unconscious for the transition, then I wouldn’t even notice a change, and I wouldn’t accidentally flatten the whole kingdom somehow. And with that thought in mind, I quickly polished off the whole bottle, and then sweet-talked an unsuspecting servant into fetching me another. I was halfway through that one too, when Hazen suddenly appeared in front of me.

“It’s time,” he said, “can you open your connection, even when you’re inside?”

I nodded, not trusting my words, and he cast a dubious eye over the bottle of wine clutched in my hand, before reaching out and basically plucking me from my hiding place, setting me on my feet and winding an arm about my waist as he steered me toward the staircase. The room he took me to was several painful stories up, and it took a long time for me to navigate the stairs, as I refused to let him carry me. There were two guards stationed at the top of the staircase, and another two outside the door, which they unlocked to admit us.

Cale was waiting for us already, and turned an amused eye on me as Hazen let me flop onto a nearby chaise.

“Such synfee grace,” he teased.

I poked my tongue out at him.

“Five minutes,” Hazen interrupted. “Is he near, Cale?”

Cale shook his head. “Haven’t felt anything yet.”

“I don’t feel so good,” I muttered, all the fuzziness of my drunken stupor now dissolving.

I sat up, blinking in a suddenly clear vision, and then groaned, doubling over and almost falling off the chair. Cale raced over to me, catching me a second before I slumped to the floor, and pushing me back onto the chaise.

“Are you going to throw up or something?”

“Not… drunk… anymore,” I managed, through gasps of pain.

Hazen moved over then as well, muttering, “and so it begins.”

The pain was incredible, and didn’t seem to be centralised anywhere, but the whole time I had one thought to cling to, which seemed to give me just the strength I needed to push through each burst of blinding pain. This pain was only affecting me, and in fact, it was so consuming that it drove everything else away, even the darkness. I thought that I might even be happy, if I wasn’t half sure that this pain might just kill me, because at least it wasn’t killing anyone else. But soon, even those thoughts were driven away, and the pain became so intense that I felt myself slipping. Slipping as though my mind may just detach itself completely, to be free of this terrible agony, or perhaps I was slipping into death after all. I shouldn’t have felt relieved, but I was only now beginning to understand why that boy had committed suicide. And that was when I heard the soft-as-silk caress of Nareon’s voice in my head.

You shouldn’t have made it so hard for me to reach you, little spitfire. This could have all been over a lot sooner.

And little by little, the pain began to ease, until I was whole again. Jerking up suddenly, I pushed weakly past Hazen and Cale, who seemed to be arguing with each other, and hadn’t even noticed me get up. I managed to make it to a pot plant not far from the chaise before I threw up, my stomach reacting violently to the overload of pain.

“Nareon…” I managed.

“He was here a few moments ago, he told us to open the door, said that he could help you… We didn’t let him in and now he’s gone.”

I nodded weakly, and then pushed back from the plant, not trusting my legs enough to stand.

“I didn’t hurt anyone?” I looked up, surprised at the haze of tears that blurred my sight.

“No, but you screamed so loud I had to order them to get the band playing downstairs to drown you out,” Hazen answered lightly.

“Thank you,” I whispered, “I’m sorry…”

And then I passed out.

Chapter Eight

Inheritance

When I woke up, I was in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, wearing an unfamiliar shift, and every inch of my body was aching. The cool beauty of the room seemed to mock my discomfort. A high window arched beside a large, carved wooden bed, spilling happy rays of sunlight over a brilliantly coloured rug. I slipped out of the bed with a wince of pain, and padded around to the window, pushing the silken drapes further apart. I was in the castle, and as I looked down over the perfectly manicured grounds below, I found it hard to believe that the party had even happened at all, as there was no longer a single trace of it left.

The sound of the door opening broke through my confusion. It was Rose who skipped in, looking surprised to see me out of bed.

“Oh my god! You’re awake!”

The confusion deepening, I moved back to the bed, hit by an unexpected wave of exhaustion, and passed a hand over my eyes.

“How long have I been… sleeping?”

“Not just sleeping, you’ve been out for a few weeks now, Bea.”

“Wait,
what
?” I felt another wave of dizziness hit, and for a moment, I thought that I would faint, until Rose dashed forward and pushed me back against the pillows.

“Wait right here, I need to call your Healer.”

She gave me a stern look and then rushed back to the door, flinging it open and yelling, “She’s awake!”

I grimaced. “I have a Healer? Is he hard of hearing?”

She giggled and moved back to me, slipping onto the other end of the bed and drawing her legs up beside her.

“Mother called him in the day after the party. Hazen said that you were sick, but when you wouldn’t wake up, we knew that something was wrong.”

“Did the Healer find out… what was wrong?”

“Parion.”

“Eesh.” Parion was almost worse than the truth. It was something that mixed-breed children were somewhat susceptible to, though it was rare.

It was essentially the inability of the human body to cope with the two warring magical breeds that are what make them a whole. But I supposed the symptoms fit well enough, as patients suffering from Parion often slipped into comas, though they rarely woke up. The Healer who strode into the room was an elderly man, which almost made me regret the ‘hard of hearing’ joke, until he began to poke, prod and otherwise treat me as if I were still in a coma. Finally, it seemed, he was satisfied that I really was alive and breathing again.

“She’ll need to stay in bed a little longer, maybe a week or so, and then I think she can be moved home.” He said to Rose. “I’ll go tell the others she’s awake.”

Rose helped me get back under the covers, and just as well, as the next person to walk into the room was the queen herself. And then the reality of my situation hit me, and I wondered if I could still blush, even after being in a coma for weeks. I began to stutter apologies, but the woman just shushed me, and moved to sit beside my bed. The fae were generally a cheerful race, always welcoming and accepting of others, but I had to admit, even I was surprised at this.

“I’m just glad you made it through. Everyone has been very worried about you.”

I blinked at her, taking in the coal-black hair that curled to her waist, the dark brown eyes that seemed to hold nothing but kindness, and, last of all, the delicate golden crown that was set into her perfectly groomed hair.

“Everyone?” I managed, not sure who would really worry about me, unless my father had returned from his mission.

To my surprise, Rose sniggered.

“Cale and Hazen have been impossible. Cale visits every single day and I have to basically kick him out so that he’ll go home, and Hazen…”

At Hazen’s name, I couldn’t help but look back to the Queen, who seemed a little uneasy now. Rose trailed off, and for a moment, silence descended upon the room, and then someone appeared in the doorway. It was my father.

“Dad!”

He looked relieved, and when he rushed over to me and bundled me into a slightly painful hug, it was hard to believe that he had killed even so much as a rodent in the past.

“When did you get back?” I asked, as he finally released me.

“Last week. God, I’m so happy to see you, Bea. I thought I’d lost you.”

The Queen rose gracefully from her seat, motioning Rose to follow her out of the room, and I stared awkwardly after them, still unsure what to make of the Queen herself attending my bedside. My father looked ragged and tired, and his eyes were bloodshot. It wasn’t until I turned back to him that I understood. I was the daughter of the Black Commander, and my father was probably one of the ten most influential people in the King’s court. It was a strange realisation to come to terms with.

“Dad, I’m fine, really.” I wanted to tell him that it wasn’t Parion, but perhaps it was better for him to think that it was, especially since Parion was supposed to be a one-time thing.

He smoothed my hair back from my face, but didn’t answer me, and I wondered if he felt guilty that he hadn’t been here when I went down. I reached out and caught his hand, giving it a squeeze, but whatever consoling words I might have uttered were cut off when Cale burst into the room.

My Father reluctantly stepped aside for Cale to pull me into a hug, but then quickly reclaimed his place by my side, while Cale flopped onto the other end of the bed, taking up the spot that Rose had vacated.

“Hazen will be glad to hear that you’re okay; he flipped out a little when you didn’t wake up, and took a mission with the King’s Guard, but he should be home in a few days.”

“That explains Rose and the Queen.”

“They’re not too happy with him.”

“What? Why? Shouldn’t they be upset at me?”

Cale rolled his eyes. “Nobody really thinks you’re a monster anymore, Bea. They’re upset because they thought that having your friends around you would be good, in case…”