Those lips I could never look away from. That proud nose. That wild, thick, dark hair.
And finally, those eyes.
The eyes I first fell in love with.
Dark. Deep.
But they were different.
They held a new darkness.
They held power.
They held anger and bitterness.
But I knew those eyes.
I’d stood frozen on the spot, just looking at him.
Tears pooled in my eyes and peace settled into every corner of me. A tiny smile fluttered to my face, even though he was looking at me with hardness and impatience.
“And who might you be that you think you may demand my presence?” he asked coldly.
I faltered, just for a second.
Cyrus had changed.
He’d begun building a kingdom before I died with Sevan’s face. And now before me stood a cold king, and I didn’t know what he was capable of.
But he was still my Cyrus.
Still my forever heart.
“It seems the magic of your cure had yet to reveal all its secrets,” I breathed. It was all I could do to stay rooted in my place, to not go running to him, to not pull myself into his familiar embrace.
“If you think I know what you are talking about, you are mistaken, woman,” he said. But there was just a little bit of hesitance to his tone.
I found a small little smile on my lips. “You said eternity was what we were supposed to have,” I said. “Perhaps we will still get it, just in broken intervals.”
Cyrus’ expression faltered then. His lips slackened just slightly and his eyes widened just a little.
“Do you remember how much of a mess this place was that first night?” I asked softly as I took one step forward. “Do you remember the owl’s nest we had to remove from there?” I pointed to the corner of the hall, where an elegant table now sat. “Do you remember how cold it was?”
Tears pooled in Cyrus eyes, I saw them as I came close. His mouth fluttered, searching for words. He trembled.
I stopped just in front of him, looking up into his eyes with a new face.
“I don’t understand how,” I said quietly. “But I awoke across the world, and I remembered it all. It’s me, im yndmisht srtov.”
“Sevan?” Cyrus breathed, his voice cracking.
I nodded, getting lost in those eyes.
And he buried me in his embrace, and once more, I was home.
* * *
“Her vitals are still stable,” a watery voice knocks at the back of my brain. “Her brain activity, however, is off the charts.”
“And there’s nothing you can do to wake her up?” another muffled sound floats across my thoughts.
“I’m afraid of the long-term damage I could do if I interfere with…whatever is going on inside that head of hers.”
They sound so worried. So scared.
But I can’t grasp it.
Not when I’m so relieved to be alive. To be with the man I love.
Chapter 31
More descendants were discovered over the years that rolled into more than a century. More and more children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren were brought into the world.
Rumors spread of our son’s amassing army. Talks of impending war rippled throughout Roter Himmel.
All we could do was prepare.
We built our kingdom. We amassed wealth. We bought armies in preparation.
And then, after 153 years together, I once more grew ill.
Once again, there was not enough blood in the world to sate my thirst.
And in another moment of agony and utter grief, Cyrus held me, as again, I died.
For 121 years I stayed dead, lost to the world.
And then for 19 years, I lived a tumultuous life as Helda, caught in the middle of a battle against the Blood Father trying to take over the world. My great-great grandfather, Dorian, influenced our family for the good, protecting the innocent lives the Blood Father wished to dominate. Protecting the secret of our kind.
And when the time came, I died my first death.
Four days later, I awoke as a vampire.
And six weeks after that, I remembered it all.
My previous life as Jafari.
My first life as Sevan.
Again, I returned to Roter Himmel.
Once more I had a bittersweet reunion with my Cyrus.
He waited for me. Between Sevan and Jafari he had never moved on, never sought out another. And for the 121 years I had been dead, he had held onto hope that I would awaken once more.
After all this time, Cyrus still held to his vows.
The world had changed much in the past century. Alliances had formed. All descendants had been accounted for.
The son Cyrus and I had created, the Blood Father, had created seven sons of his own, and twelve daughters.
Two of those sons and three daughters had allied with Cyrus, knew that we must keep our kind a secret if we did not wish to be eliminated by the rest of the world.
And then finally, word of our son’s return was sent to Roter Himmel by messenger.
Our son was coming home.
And he was going to finally put an end to our stopping him from taking over the world.
* * *
The war was not fought and won in a few mere weeks.
The mountains that surrounded Roter Himmel became the battlegrounds for a bloodbath that went on for seven years.
Countless lives were lost. Our home was very nearly destroyed. Famine was the threat that nearly caused us to lose. And as the humans died, there was little more for us, the vampires, to survive off of.
But then, on a crystal clear night at the beginning of spring, I paused in battle, turning across the field, as Cyrus and our son finally came face to face in battle.
With swords and fangs, they fought. It was like watching two lions, and the only outcome was death.
It was agony. I had to watch the two people I loved most in this world fight to the death. My husband that I had sacrificed everything for, and the son I had loved and carried and raised.
And everything in me froze, everyone on the battlefield seemed to turn to watch, as Cyrus knocked him to his knees.
I saw that look in Cyrus’ eyes. The utter despair. The anger. The horror. The grief and regret.
It all flashed through his eyes, just as he brought the sword down, and cut off our son’s head.
His body collapsed to the ground. His head rolled a little way down the hill. His blood stained the rocks and grass.
Tears rolled down my face.
Tears slid down Cyrus’.
It was over.
* * *
Our grandsons and daughters who had allied themselves with our son were taken into custody and thrown into the dungeon. One grandson and three granddaughters had been killed at some point during the war.
And finally, after seven bloody years, and centuries before, it was over.
Except it wasn’t.
Battles and insurrection continued for centuries. Times of peace and then times of rebellion.
But in the end, order was established.
With so many of us now, leadership was impossible to maintain from Roter Himmel. In a night of sleeplessness, Cyrus and I came up with the idea of the Houses. We trusted the descendants of Dorian and Malachi. They would help. We could train them, teach them how to be leaders, and then send them out into the world.
And so the age of order began.
* * *
I feel it. The rise back to consciousness. I feel closer to the light, closer to the present.
As if being sucked through a tunnel, I rocket through all of my lives.
First Sevan, and then Jafari. Helda, and then Shaku. Antoinette and Edith. And then I was born as La’ei.
And then Itsuko.
I searched for my life as her.
A village. A small village by the ocean. A simple life, but one as an outcast, shame on my mother for not knowi
ng my father.
And then…and then darkness.
Screams and blood. Bad…bad everything.
Where was the rest?
Why couldn’t I remember what happened after that Resurrection?
I scramble for it, groping through the dark.
Then the light and the warm call for me. I rise to the surface.
And I open my eyes.
Chapter 32
Some kind of insect chirps loudly in the dark. I sit in a wooden swing on the veranda at Alivia’s House, Eshan curled in a ball next to me, his head in my lap. A soft breeze doesn’t do much to cool the air down.
I’d woken up, totally alone in the room, except for Eshan, asleep in a chair in the corner. But as soon as I called his name, he’d sat up, and started yelling for Alivia and Nial.
I’d been in some kind of trance-like coma for two days. My eyes would open and close, but they never moved, only stared at nothing. I could move, but I seemed frozen in the bed.
They’d called for me, tried to wake me up, but I had just looked empty and lost.
Now I was fine.
Dr. Jarvis ran tests on me, checked me over from head to foot. He couldn’t find anything wrong.
“I’m okay,” I said, standing and pushing past everyone making a fuss. “I’m just starving right now.”
They’d watched me as I ate like I’d never eat another meal. It was getting seriously annoying.
“I swear, I’m okay,” I insisted around a mouthful of something so Southern I didn’t have a name for it. “When you’ve lived a life as nine different people I think it’s justifiable to have a couple of wacky days to get your head back together and remember.”
Alivia sat down beside me. “Everything?” she asked.
I nodded. “All of it. The clearest is life as Sevan, but everything else is there. Except…except my last life before being Logan. There’s something weird going on there.”
I’d dismissed her then, saying I didn’t need to talk about it, anymore.
So here, I’ve found myself back on the veranda with my little brother.
“How can you not be insane?” Eshan asks quietly. “You say you’ve been nine people, that you remember them all. Does that make you schizophrenic?”
I chuckle and brush a hand over his shoulder. “I felt like it before,” I say. “My head just felt like a total mess with all these memories and voices thrown into this chaotic vortex. But, whatever happened over the last few days . . . ” I paused, looking up. Lights dot the horizon. “It sorted my brain out. I’m still Logan. But a part of me is La’ei, and Antoinette, and Jafari. The biggest part is Sevan. But I’m still Logan.”
Eshan sighs and shakes his head. “This whole thing is pretty nuts,” he says. “That there’s all this history and these politics and whatever, they all exist, and have been going on for thousands of years, and no one knows about it.”
“I wish you’d stayed in the dark about it,” I say.
Eshan shrugs. “You’ve kind of always been a bitter loner, Logan,” he teases. “I’m guessing you need someone to talk about it with.”
I smile. “Thanks, E.”
He rolls over onto his back, his head on my thigh, and looks right up at me. “So what’s the plan now? Are you really going to Austria like you told us all you were? Are you and Cyrus…going to be…husband and wife, or whatever?”
My eyes shifted to the horizon again.
I had to look deep. Dig down past my heart and into my core.
“Roter Himmel is my home,” I say. “Cyrus, he’s made a million bad decisions, done some bad things, but he’s home.”
Eshan doesn’t look so sure about Cyrus. But a hopeful little look sparks in his eyes. “Can I come with? This place doesn’t even sound real. A castle, and you, a queen?” He laughs.
“Yeah, right!” I tease him. “Mom and dad are going to kill you for running off like this. You’re going straight home tomorrow.”
And teasing and laughing, I get one last amazing day with my brother.
Chapter 33
I walk into the shower as the sun rises the next morning. I strip down, tossing my clothes in the bin and step into the cool water.
No hot showers in this region, not this time of year.
As I wash my hair, I think back on this life. Particularly the last few weeks.
I understand now why Cyrus was so anxious for me to die when he first met me. I understand why he was so impatient.
When I told him that I needed some time to close out my life and we bargained for time, it was like a game to him. Cyrus loves his games.
It wasn’t something that really came into play until my life as Antoinette, when Cyrus had already lived life as a vampire for over a thousand years.
I think back on all the little details of our time together in that house in Greendale. The looks he gave me over particular things. Over little things I said. When he took notes of little facts about my life, like how I believed in reincarnation, or the fact that I couldn’t cook anything.
Those were all little signs and clues of Sevan.
But there were other details, too.
The way he held my hand at times. The way he played along with the part of Logan’s boyfriend. The way he charmed my parents and Amelia. The way he saved me from Shylock.
Those details. Those were just about Logan.
And those final moments before I died the first death with this face, the guilt Cyrus admitted to.
My chest aches.
Cyrus has never loved another woman. His devotion and commitment to Sevan is astounding.
But there was that confession just before I died. The guilt of feeling as if I am betraying my wife. Because when I look at you, Logan… And I swear I can remember him pressing his lips to mine just as I died.
I’m ready.
I shut the water off in the shower and I step out.
I’m ready.
I’m going home.
I’m returning to Roter Himmel.
I can announce to the world that the Queen has been found again.
And I’m ready. For Cyrus.
For us.
With excitement, I get myself ready for the day. I dress, I do my hair, put on some makeup. I start packing my things.
I’m so ready.
I consider calling, or at least texting Cyrus, but I smile at the idea of walking up to the castle, as I’ve done so many times before, and surprising him.
I love the look on his face at our reunions.
He might know where I am, that the time is here, but he’s been so understanding in giving me my time to sort through all of these emotions I’ve had to deal with.
I can’t wait to see the look on his face again.
With my bag packed, I step out and follow the sound of voices.
Alivia, Rath, and Nial are all in the dining room talking. Each of them look up as I enter, waiting for whatever new levels of crazy I’m about to unleash on them.
“I’m going back to Roter Himmel,” I announce. “Today. I’m going to fly with Eshan back home, smooth things over with our parents. And then I’m going back to Austria.”
Alivia raises her eyebrows, her expression surprised. “So…so soon?”
I nod. “I needed time to straighten my head out and well, it was some power nap I took.” I laugh at myself. I’m giddy, filled to the brim with anticipation. “And it’s time. I’ve put Cyrus through enough in the past two weeks. I need to go home.”
Rath stands, facing me. His expression is uncertain. Wary. “Logan, are you sure you’re ready?”
I take a step forward, wrapping my arms around him. “I am,” I say quietly. “Thank you. Thank you for coming here with me. And for keeping me safe for the past sixteen years. I’m going home. I think it’s time you get comfortable in yours again, too.”
I let go of him, looking him in the eyes.
And like a weight lifted off of him, I swear I see the burden of protecting me lift out of his eyes.
<
br /> “I have a favor to ask of you, Alivia,” I say, looking over at her. “There’s still one last piece of my identity I need to fit together.”
She gives me a look of nervous anticipation, and I know she knows what I’m about to ask.
“I want you to come and identify my biological father,” I say. “For my own curiosity, to know my other half. And for safety reasons. I’ve been in these politics for…for a really long time. And there are a million reasons why I need to know who he is.”
Ian walks into the dining room then. His lips are set thin, his body tense.
I know what I’m asking.
For her to return to a place where she was held captive for a month, where she was tortured. And I’m asking her to go find a man she slept with once and then never saw again.
But, I’m asking.
“Of course,” Alivia says, but her tone is tight. “Anything.”
I smile, hoping she can see my appreciation.
So we prepare to leave.
I think I expected this visit to the House of Conrath to be longer. I kind of expected that eventually I’d get to know all of her House members and that at some point Ian and I would hash it out and eventually learn to deal with each other.
But I have such big things on my horizon.
This is just one House. And while it may be my mother’s House, soon I will be involved with the affairs of all twenty-seven Houses. Soon I’ll be dealing with Court again and the significance that my return will mean for our entire world.
Shit.
This is so big.
How the hell am I supposed to handle all of this?
You’re not doing it all on your own, a voice from long ago whispers to me. A voice that is my own.
With our bags packed, everyone gathers in the entryway.
And to my surprise, Ian carries a bag for himself along with Alivia’s.
“Not a chance in hell I’m letting her face Cyrus again alone,” he says to me with a hard look in his eyes that dares me to tell him no.
“Fine by me,” I say, holding my hands up.
“Good luck,” Elle says as she crosses to me, pulling me into a hug. “I hope you find your happiness. Tell Cyrus hello for me.”