My father, the great and feared Lysander Nightshade, ruler of the clan for a thousand years, hasn't come within arm's reach of me since I was a baby. He's never touched me that I can recall.
Not after he learned I could give people endless nightmares. That I can control their dreams.
When I was a toddler, nannies would tend to me with gloved hands, holding me like I was radioactive. A two year old capable of destroying a person's mind with his touch is terrifying to people. I understand it now, but then, it seemed impossibly cruel.
Only my mother, and sweet Jarrad would dare to touch me. Mother, because she knew I'd never hurt her, and Jarrad, because he feared nothing and no one.
My father had always maintained Jarrad was a leader of men. His social circles were full of wealthy and powerful men, that was for sure. But it had nothing to do with his leadership.
Jarrad had no use for women.
His 'friends' were wealthy, powerful, andbeautiful. And Jarrad loved them all. He had such a big heart, and was rumored to give the best head in all of Faerie, something that wounded our father's pride so deeply, it never fully recovered.
It was a lover who killed Jarrad. Who seduced and assassinated him. And he made sure Jarrad's body left no doubt how he'd died, in the throes of passion.
But to mention it in front of my father was courting death. No one but me would ever let it pass their lips. And normally, I wouldn't either. It feels cruel to use Jarrad's memory that way. And I liked that he was gay. He was a great brother.
But Korah is still breathing because I did this.
Now, I must repair things with the old man as best I can.
"The woman," I say, "Who is she? Tell me of her."
"I tire," my father says. He isn't lying either, he's exhausted himself lifting Korah. It's Octavian who rushes to get under father's arm and support him.
Father would never accept my touch. It'd be too dangerous.
Octavian tells me what my father lacks the strength to say:
"She's the daughter of a mafia family from the human realms. Powerful, influential and very rich. She'll give us access to what we need to keep the family alive for another century. You don't have to love her, Fabien. And she won't live long, as she's human. Your father and I wanted you to marry her, but it's also possible she could give us a child. We don't care what else you do with her. It's time to grow up, cousin.If you want to lead."
My father speaks then, in a raspy, breathy voice.
"You can destroy her like you destroy everything of value that you touch, but you will marry her. And you'll try to make a child. An heir."
A human?I never thought my destiny would be a human woman, but couldn't it be? Maybe I never found her because I never looked in the right place.
Or maybe it's just someone these two knuckleheads dug up to get them guns and money. Which we do need.
I approach the throne, but I'm so furious at seeing Korah laid out, I can't speak. As I throw Korah over my shoulder and stalk from the throne room, my father's laughter echoes behind me.
"You will marry her, boy!"
LOLA- LUNA
The Nightshade estate is set well back from the hustle and bustle of the city, in the woods of Highland Park. The surrounding area is all hundred foot tall pines covered in gossamer threads. Sprites flit around the canopy overhead as we drive below.
Enormous flowers bloom in the night, the size of beach balls. They glow like the moon, and languid creatures loll inside them, watching us drive past.
"Are you enjoying the drive Luna?" Olivia asks.
The sound of her voice makes me jump. When I see the disapproval in her eyes, I pull it together quickly.We don't jump. We also don't cry. It's become my mantra. It's just I'm so close to the moment I'll meethim. It's like being on the edge of a cliff. I know I told them all I'd jump, but now I'm there and everyone looks ready to give me a push.
For Olivia and Zedona, it's an unpleasant duty they'll soon leave behind them. Once I'm married off to the monster, they're out of here.
I'll be on my own. It chills my blood just thinking about it.
"I hate driving, you know that," I tell Olivia, trying to sound appropriately waspish. Apparently I managed it, because she nods. "Why couldn't we take the chopper, Papa?"
Zedona frowns at me, without actually looking me in the eye. I've become such an accurate portrait of his daughter over the last two weeks that it must feel like razors inside him. On the rare occasions when he does meet my gaze, I see every bit of the hurt and pain in there.
Does Olivia feel it too? If she does, she never shows it.
It's like she told me: the men have their own kind of coldness. The women in the mafia are like absolute zero. Olivia's eyes are as cold as the other side of the moon. It's like she never even had a sister.
Which feels a little weird to me, but it's not my business, so I let it pass.
Zedona opens his mouth to reply, but he only lets out a small growl and goes back to looking out the window, puffing on his huge cigar. He doesn't have the heart to play along if he doesn't need to. I don't blame him.
"What's wrong, Papa?" Olivia asks, with a dark smile. "You should be happy, yourfavoritedaughter is to be married. In just a few weeks, you'll give her away. Doesn't it make your heart bleed with joy? You must have thought fondly of this moment all her life. The pride of a father walking his daughter down the aisle? Of being able to hold the first child of your blood in your arms?"
Zedona glares at her, his eyes narrow and bloodshot.
"You have no soul, Olivia."
Olivia smiles.
"Nope."
We pull up to the gates, and a couple of burly orcs check with the driver and wave us through. They're wearing suits, and look tough. They don't bother trying to hide the submachine guns swinging under their jackets.
They're ready for an army.
The grounds are immaculate. Rose bushes line the long driveway. The drive curls around a large pond. Something with a human-like face looks back at me from the edge and then vanishes below the surface, sending ripples pulsing out across the water.
At the house, the driver lets us out. Olivia waits when the door opens, giving me a look that saysget your ass in gear. I hurry to exit first.
I make sure to stand the way she taught me, and to look haughty. I try, desperately, to not be impressed by the splendor I see. The kind of wealth and power it'd take to build a mansion like this in this part of town... I suddenly realize it's the most expensive house I've ever been in.
And I've been to places run bycartels. But this is real luxury. Old money stuff. All oak and stained glass, statues and topiaries and stuff like that.
The doors to the mansion open, and a man waits for us. He stands at attention and has a small towel draped over his arm. A butler?Geez. What kind of people are they? Longhorns curl up from his head, like an antelope, and he wears a vest but no shirt. The clicking I hear on the ground is actually hooves and not shoes, and—whoa. He's not wearing pants.
And he has a huge Body. Just…standing there .
"His majesty will see you in the drawing room," the butler says. "I shall show you the way."
And he does. It's hard not to notice the thing dangling between his legs as he walks. Thankfully, he has a fluffy tail partially obscuring it.
Olivia catches my eye and grins. I have a feeling this place is like party time for her.