Kindred of the Fallen (46 page)

“I’m surprised he didn’t say we had to go back right away.”

“Actually, he did, but I took care of it.”

She set her glass down. “Took care of it how?”

“I reminded Constantine I was asking for two more weeks away with you, out of the lifetime we’ll give in return to House Herut.”

“And he agreed?”

“He cut our honeymoon from two weeks to one.” The broken look returned to his eyes and she sensed the conflict churning inside of him.

“Are you sure it’s safe for us to go on a honeymoon?”

“We’ll be in a different city almost every night. With us constantly on the move, we’ll be okay.” Cyrus held her hands and kissed her palm. “We both deserve a honeymoon. There’s been so much chaos in our lives and who knows what the future holds.”

“We never discussed the ceremony.” She took a bite of the tender lobster tail.
 

“We’ll have the ceremony down at the gazebo like you want. Spero will officiate, and then we’ll have lunch in the courtyard.”

Why Spero instead of Abbadon? She hoped it had nothing to do with the argument earlier, but wanted to hang on to the light mood by not rehashing it.

He cut into his steak and moaned as he chewed a piece. It was the first time she’d seen him eat meat. There were so many other firsts ahead, and she wanted all of them.

“I still want to make it legal in my world. Let’s go to city hall first, then Spero can perform the ceremony here, later, if you don’t mind.”

“I know how important things in the human world are to you,” he said with a smile, “but New York has a twenty-four hour waiting period. We’ll have to get married in Stamford, across the state line.”

“Will any of the guards stay behind to help Talus with the move and close up the house?”

“Abbadon will stay to help her and make sure everything gets done.”

If Abbadon wasn’t going with them, it was either a bad sign or it would give them the opportunity she wanted to go to Aten, but she was tired of worrying. She wanted to think about stargazing with her soon-to-be husband in Marrakech, where he had his Whitescape.

“Why are you still wearing that necklace from Seshata? Remove it.”

She jerked upright at the order. “No.”

“No?” His incredulous tone reverberated in her ears. “Take it off. We don’t use heka.”

“You don’t practice magic. I have three grandparents at Aten who don’t think there’s anything wrong with heka.”

“Dayanara may be with Marius, but she would never practice magic.”

“Her presence in House Aten condones it. You’ve spent two and a half centuries sorting through your beliefs to champion Herut’s ideals. I’m just now finding out who I am, where I come from, and what both my parents believed in. I’ll decide for myself where I stand on heka.”

He lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

“Besides, Seshata came all this way to give us these gifts. I’d like to see if this necklace can do anything to keep us safe.”

Cyrus furrowed his brow, but didn’t object.

“I have something for you,” he said, handing her the case that was about the size of a briefcase, but at least double the width, covered in beautiful, supple leather, the color of cognac. “It’s a wedding present.”

“I wish I had known we were doing gifts.”

“I wanted this to be a birthday gift, but open it now.”

She put it down on the table and opened it. Inside were various metal pieces in satin-lined compartments. She examined them and realized it was a crossbow. Without delay, she assembled the pieces. It was made of a shiny metal and there were intricate etchings that gave it a feminine touch. It was much lighter and shorter than the one she used for practice.

Cyrus sat and lifted the upper tray out of the case, revealing sixteen bolts. They each had a sharp, glistening tip and the shafts were made out of the same metal as her crossbow. He held one up. “It has a diamond tip and the stem is made of
barenpetium
like your crossbow.”

She gave him a big hug and kiss. “I can’t believe you even got me ammo.”

“There’s more.” He lifted the second tray. There were more bolts, but the heads were larger. “These are highly explosive incendiary bolts. It’ll stop any Kindred.”

“You’re so romantic.”

“I try,” he said playfully.

She slipped her arms around his neck. “I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The bittersweet light of day brought a smile to Serenity’s face. It was her wedding day. And the last day of any part of her old life. She opened her eyes to see Cyrus gazing down at her. He ran his fingers along the bridge of her nose, across her cheek and down her lips to her chin. His kisses were soft and tender.

She caressed his face and slid into the folds of his arms. Staring in his eyes, she rubbed noses. Then they lingered longer than they should have, curled together.

Running late, they showered quickly and dressed in jeans and plain tops. Mrs. Carter had arrived early. Blueberry pancakes waited for them in the kitchen.

Abbadon leaned against the fridge, eating an apple. He didn’t say a word when they entered the room. In fact, he didn’t even acknowledge their presence. Cyrus walked around the island on the side closest to the stove, where Mrs. Carter prepared the food for their wedding luncheon. Abbadon left the room from the opposite side without making eye contact.

Their behavior unsettled her, but she wasn’t going to let anything detract from her joy.

She finished her breakfast and kissed Cyrus on the cheek. “We have to swing by the tattoo studio. I need to take a quick appointment, then we can go to the Stamford city hall. I’m going to grab some art supplies from my room and I’ll be ready to go.”

He nodded and put two more pancakes on his plate.

Inside her room, she stuffed what she needed for the appointment at the tattoo studio in a bag. She wouldn’t have time to draw the usual eight by six, but she could knock out a detailed three by five, and then she’d marry the most perfect male in the world.

She couldn’t stop grinning. Everything was wonderful—too wonderful. Like the unnatural calm in the middle of the storm, foreboding the worst yet to come. She tried to shake it off as paranoia, but her intuition demanded she prepare.

Worrying about the unknown was self-defeating and she refused to do it. When she turned to leave, she saw Abbadon standing in the threshold.

 
She slung the bag across her chest and walked right up to him. His probing gaze didn’t waver from her face. Silence stretched between them, sucking up the air in the room.

Unable to bear it a second longer, she sidestepped to squeeze by him, but he blocked her path and stepped forward. Instinctively, her feet moved back and he shut the door.

“Still determined to hang on to your humanity by going to the justice of the peace?”

“Yes.” Her chin jutted up. “But first I’m going to my studio for one last appointment.”

He crossed his arms. “No one told me. I only sent warriors to secure the city hall in Stamford.”

“It’s no big deal. I’ll only be there an hour. We’re taking Spero and Micah with us.”

“Let it go,” he said. His voice was soft and gentle.

Her shoulders relaxed as her defenses lowered. “Let what go?”

“Your ties to the human world. It would be for the best.”

“What do you want, Abbadon? Why are we having this conversation?”

Clasping his hands behind his back, he meandered across the room. He stopped in front of her portrait of Cyrus that rested on the easel. “The energy we receive from our
kabashem
is like a drug. More potent and intoxicating than anything the humans could imagine. The longer one is around it, the more one wants it, and eventually comes to believe they need it. I’m sure you’ve heard of human addicts who lost everything in pursuit of that unique feeling they could only get from a specific drug.”

It was the first time he spoke to her without looking at her and she found it more disturbing than the anger he’d shown yesterday. “Why are you telling me this?”

“My words are lost on him. I have no other recourse than to speak to you.” He faced her. “The love for one’s
kabashem
can cloud our judgment. It can encourage us to lose sight of what’s most important.”

“What’s most important to you, you mean?”

“No, what’s most important in the big scheme of things. This is a phrase you know, yes?” His voice wasn’t calm. It had a tone that slithered between frustration and disappointment.

“Yes.”

“It’s easy to live for yourself, when the only desires that count are your own or your
kabashem’s
. It’s tempting to believe you and your
kabashem
are the only ones that exist, and that your love for each other is all that matters.” His eyes hardened to a glare. “The collective…matters. Self-sacrifice for the greater good matters. The fate of future generations matters.”

“I know how important this is and what it means for all Kindred. I care about the collective and House Herut.”

“Prove it.” The sharp edge of his tone filleted her heart. “What love do you bear for Kindred?”

She stared at him speechless.

“Our plight will never change until we have the courage, the strength, to change ourselves. Put redemption and the needs of those who love you ahead of your personal desires. You can save our people from the misery of the dark veil and the devastation that always follows
sangre saevitas
. You and Cyrus are the greatest hope we have had in almost a thousand years. That counts for so much more than what you two share as a
couple
lost in the haze of love.”

Abbadon stalked to the door. Holding the handle, he turned and speared her with his gaze. “Don’t take him from Herut. If you do, he shall never recover from it. We shall never recover from it.”

He left the room, stealing her breath with him.

Cyrus waited for her by the front door. She smiled, trying to give the appearance everything was all right as she walked down the stairs. She looked around at the warriors who had come to protect them.

Their commitment to keep them safe was selfless and noble. Beset had given her life to keep Serenity alive. How many others would gladly do the same so she might live, so their people had a chance for redemption?

Abbadon spoke intently to Spero, who nodded at everything he said. As Carin passed, he stopped her, giving more orders.

In the car, Carin drove and Spero sat up front. Micah rode a motorcycle ahead.

Salvation was the ghost of a promise she could not touch or feel, no more real than the memories of her mother, but the fidelity and love of the soldiers around her were real. It wasn’t only their desire for redemption that fueled their dedication, it was also love.

The love they had for Cyrus.

“What’s wrong?” Cyrus clutched Serenity’s hand. She’d been so quiet on the way into the city.

She smiled. “Nothing.”

“Are you nervous about getting married?”

Her soft lips pressed against his and she squeezed his hand tighter. “Not at all.”

Carin stopped in front of her building where the tattoo studio was located.

“How much time will you need?” Cyrus asked.

“No more than an hour.”

“Perfect. Spero and Micah will stay with you. I’m going to run an errand. I’ll be back before you’re finished.”

She kissed him and hopped out. Spero instructed Micah to stay posted on the ground floor to look out for any potential threats, then he held the lobby door open for her and they disappeared inside.

“Where to?” Carin asked.

He’d found a platinum bracelet featuring a lotus flower with elegant filigree detail and pavé diamonds. He’d debated over whether or not to buy it. His mate’s taste ran simpler, but he knew she’d love it. “Off to pick up another wedding gift for my bride. Bulgari on Fifth Avenue.”

Dougie hovered in the doorway of the office. One corner of his mouth lifted into a sidelong grin. “This will get us international recognition. Don’t fail me now.” He glanced down the hall and beckoned someone into the room.

A woman with glossy peach lips and bouncy blonde curls sashayed into the office, trailed by a stud who had the kind of sex appeal that sold watches in ads. He smacked her on the butt and plopped into a chair. Drenched in expensive perfume, she pranced up to Serenity.

She recognized the woman’s face from a movie poster, but the starlet’s name escaped her, which was a good thing.

“Excuse me for not shaking,” Serenity said, smiling. “I’ll get a better reading if I don’t.”

The starlet’s waxed brows contracted. “How does this work? I’m—”

“It works best if we don’t speak. Please, have a seat and relax while I get centered.”

The woman poured herself over her companion and draped her legs across the chair. Serenity closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths to clear her mind.

The slurping of kisses pulled her attention back to the couple. The sooner she got to the business at hand, the sooner this spectacle would be over.