Descendant (18 page)

T
he airport is crowded with early morning passengers as we check in and go through security. Once we’ve found our gate, I decide a trip to the ladies room is my top priority. No matter how hungry I am, hygiene is more important. After braiding my hair, brushing my teeth, and changing from my grimy T-shirt into a cable-knit sweater (purchased on clearance at the gift shop), I emerge feeling awake, alert, and infinitely more human.

Kye has cleaned up too, and has in his hand a pastry sack and two bottles of juice. “Breakfast is served.”

I sit next to him and choose a blueberry muffin from the bag. My mouth is full when I remember to thank him. “You’re my hero.”

“Remind me to bring you muffins every day.”

“You have no idea how badly I needed that.”

“Hard to miss.” He grins around a bite of his own muffin. “Luckily, it didn’t take much to vanquish the growling monster in your stomach.”

I glare playfully at Kye. “Yeah. I’d apologize, except I blame you.”

He scrunches his face into a frown—and I’m utterly charmed. “If you’re keeping a list, it’ll be holy-crap-long when we get home.”

“I’ll just keep track of the big stuff, then.”

The last drops of juice slide down my throat with a satisfying tang, and I toss the bottle in the trash as we line up to board, still flirting. Our plane lifts off the ground as the first rays of sun crest over the tops of the buildings, tinting the pale sky with shades of purple, pink, and gold.

Kye peers out the window with me. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Um-hm.” We’re cheek to cheek, and my heart races in anticipation, but his attention is focused out the window. Saliva pools beneath my tongue. Kye runs his hand up and down my arm as he leans back, his eyes dropping to my mouth as if he’s trying to make a decision.

I inch closer, licking my lips in anticipation.

Then he sits back.

He hasn’t kissed me—really kissed me—since the faery party. I’m starting to wonder if his earlier clinging was brought on by remnants of the faery enchantment. Stung by his rejection, I swallow and sit back, wincing when my ears pop and a tiny hammer drums inside my head.

The airplane seats are of the extreme straight-backed variety, but I lean mine back the full three inches and close my eyes. Between the cold air, noise, and the crappy airline pillow, I can’t get comfortable. When frustration wins the battle with pride, I rest my head on Kye’s shoulder. As he did on the bus, he encircles me in his arms and covers us with a blanket. Sticking with what feels like a new habit, I drift off listening to the sound of his steady heartbeat.

A
dark-haired woman stands in a stone doorway, a look of horror pasted on her face. Her hands fly to her mouth and she stifles a scream as a group of angry men drags a headless body—dressed in royal finery—through the corridor. Her skirt skims the floor as she backs into her room and slams the heavy wooden door, dry heaving.

Silent tears trickle down her cheeks as she searches for a place to hide, knowing there will be no escape. Something crashes in a room nearby and she knows the army will soon make a thorough search of her chamber as well. Her ring glows, and she rests a hand on her heart, relieved to know her true love still lives. For now.

With a new resolve, she dumps out the contents of a drawer, glancing behind her every few seconds. The soldiers are coming.

She removes strands of golden hair from a brush and rolls them into a ball in her palm, then retrieves vials from a drawer, opening some, tossing others aside. From each opened jar, a drop or two of liquid or a pinch of powder falls into her hand where she massages
it into the hair. Satisfied, she rips a gem off her jeweled dress, dumps everything into a pestle bowl, and crushes it all together with a mortar.

The noises become louder and panic makes her throat feel thick. She opens her mouth, chanting—no words, just notes and sounds
—
tones of protection. The gems in her ring glow more brilliantly each time she passes her hand over the mixture. A smile lights her eyes. She will succeed.

The wooden door splinters into pieces, but the woman still sings. The room fills with men. One snatches the bowl and dumps the contents into the chamber pot, a sneer turning his eyes coal black. The glowing stops and the woman cries, anguished. The spell is broken.

The sneering man grabs her around the waist and she shrieks, lashing out with all her strength. She’s no match for him, and he carries her away.

A
s the plane touches down, I jerk awake and wipe a bead of cold sweat off my forehead. My fingers brush Kye’s cheek. The blanket is on the ground and we’ve curled into each other to compensate.

He smiles, his face unguarded, intimate. “Good morning. How’d you sleep?”

“All right, I guess. Better than the bench.” I stretch my back, peering out the window at the jumble of towering buildings. “So that’s New York.”

“Yep.” he says. “Been a while since I was here.”

“Never for me.” My excitement builds. “Will we have time for sightseeing?”

Kye runs both hands through his hair. “Maybe.”

After we have our luggage and are standing in line for a cab, Kye makes a call on his cell phone. “It’s me,” he says. “Did you talk to him? Well, it’s kind of late to warn him now. We’re just leaving the airport. Listen, we need to talk about Juri—”

I deduce he’s probably talking to Mr. Akers. A skycap holds the door as we climb in a cab. Kye shakes the man’s hand, still on the phone, but I don’t miss the subtle transfer of money.

“How long before he recovers? I’m afraid he’ll follow us here. He thinks Abby has—yeah. We need to talk about what we saw in his office, too. Listen, we’re in a cab. I’ll check back later tonight. See what else you can find.” He hangs up and scrolls through his contact list to give the driver an address. “I love technology.”

A thick layer of brownish-yellow smog hovers over the buildings, darkening the sky as we drive into the city. When I can’t stand the silence anymore, I ask Kye to tell me more about Theron and Raina.

Kye clears his throat. “Where did I leave off?”

“The prince was in love.”

“Right.” He takes my hand and traces along each finger and into my palm. “So, they planned a royal wedding. The biggest celebration Dryden ever had. The whole kingdom was invited to a three-day party.”

“Sounds amazing.” I have a momentary flash of guilt over missing Rose’s birthday bash.

“Theron and Raina hid in their room after the ceremony. Isleen made them come out and mingle every once in a while, but they really wanted to be alone.

“On the third day, there was a fight in the ballroom. Theron went to check things out and discovered that the castle was under attack. Everyone at the party was either dead or injured or gone. Theron ran around calling for Healers and searching for his parents.

“He found his father’s body in the courtyard. The head was about fifty feet from the rest of him.”

“Ew.” I shudder. “TMI.”

“Sorry. So, Theron searched the castle for his mother and Rhys, but there was no trace of them anywhere.”

My brow furrows as the somewhat familiar story takes an unexpected turn. “Are you sure that’s how it happened?”

“This is the story as I read it. Well, okay, not in those exact words, but yeah. Why?”

I bite my thumbnail. “I dreamed this—or at least I think I did. But it was different.”

“Shall I tell you the rest? Or do you already know how it ends?”

“No, that’s as far as I got.” I sigh. “Please finish.”

“The guards cleaned up the mess and buried the dead, and Theron sent groups of knights to search for any trace of Isleen or Rhys.”

“What about Raina?” I can’t forget how she screamed as the man carried her off. “What happened to her?”

“Well,” Kye says, his voice measured. “When Theron went to tell Raina what was happening, she was gone. The only signs of struggle were a bowl of herbs spilled on the floor and a double-heart-shaped burn in the wood. Theron found her ring under the bed.

“The thing is Theron and Raina never told anyone about their time in the forest. No one knew how they fell in love, but when Theron ordered Raina’s ring, he asked for two heart-cut diamonds, one blue and one white. Individually, each stone was highly powerful, but together, they held the unbreakable power of true love.”

Kye rubs my ring with his thumb. “If these are real diamonds, there’s a really good chance this is it. We both know it has power.”

“Yes.” My eyes widen as realization sinks in. I knew the story would end this way. The movie of it has been playing in my head in bits and pieces for weeks. “Raina disappeared.”

“Theron searched for a long time but never found a trace of her. A few years later, Theron returned to Dryden, heartbroken, and swore he’d never love again.”

“So, so sad.” A hard ball of grief forms in the pit of my stomach. “What did he do with the ring?”

“That’s where the legend gets hazy. No one knows for sure because it was never seen again. Or so we all thought.” He flashes a grin at me. “I bet your gram knew something about that.”

I return his smile, let my eyelids flutter flirtatiously, and sit up as the cab pulls to a stop. “Probably.”

The streets here are much less crowded than those in the heart of the city, and though there’s still a hungry quality to the air, this neighborhood feels more peaceful. Kye pays with cash and grasps my hand, striding to a tall red door to ring the bell.

A voice, deep and male, crackles in a tiny speaker, “Yes? Can I help you?”

Kye grins, looking younger than I’ve ever seen him look. “I sure hope so, Dad. If not we’re in a mess of trouble.”

Eoin
  Murphy’s home isn’t what I expected. When Kye first told me his father lives in New York City, I envisioned a man who wears designer suits and rides around in a limousine. I imagined him living in a sprawling penthouse apartment in a fancy high-rise building. A tall, blond demi-god who is classy and loaded—because who else could have fathered Kye, and what else would explain his lack of worry over the cost of this trip?

Given my background, and considering my current circumstances, I thought at this point that nothing could surprise me. Of course, I thought wrong.

We climb three flights of stairs because the elevator is broken, and knock on the door. The man who answers has an over-large nose and straight, sandy hair that sticks up in the back. He is slightly shorter than Kye and wearing a rumpled T-shirt and crooked basketball shorts. “My boy!” He throws his arms around Kye. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be going to school in Jackson. Or has that changed since last month?”

“No, I’m still there. It’s spring break.” Kye pounds his father on the back, affectionately returning his father’s embrace before pulling back to make introductions. “Dad, this is Abby.”

“Good to meet you, Abby. Welcome.” Eoin grasps my offered hand.

“Thank you. You’re not what I expected.”

He chuckles. “Well, I didn’t expect either of you. But come in, come in.”

He moves some things off the sofa, making a place for us to sit, and offers us herbal tea. Kye and I are situated so close together our elbows touch every time we move. The space Eoin has cleared is the only available seating I can see. We’re surrounded by stacks of books and papers, odds and ends, and interesting-looking trinkets that cover all available surfaces, including the bookshelves lining the walls. Most of the books appear old, possibly even antique.

This may be a home, but it feels more like a box to me. The kitchen and living area are basically the same room, with a short counter running between carpet and tile. I haven’t seen the bedroom, but I imagine it’s the size of my closet at home.

Kye gestures to the books lying open on the table. “It’s research. Dad works best in an environment of controlled chaos. The funny thing is he knows exactly where to find everything he needs whenever he needs it.”

Eoin clears a space on the counter and sets down three mugs of steaming tea, a package of bagels and a tub of cream cheese. “Sorry, it’s the best I can offer on such short notice.” He glances around with a shrug. “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have cleaned up a bit.” My stomach rumbles as I help myself to a bagel. “This is perfect. Thanks.”

“We haven’t eaten since the airport in Las Vegas, and that was hours ago.” Kye opens the cream cheese tub and hands me a butter knife. “Sorry about the communication breakdown, Dad. Lan was supposed to call you.”

Mumbling about needing to find his smart phone, Eoin takes his mug to the table. He stacks the books and papers together and sets them on the floor to make a place for us. I sit at the table across from Eoin. Kye sits next to me, chewing vigorously and gulping his tea.

Kye’s dad watches us down our snacks, patiently keeping his questions to himself until we’re finished. “If you’re still hungry, we can order pizza. Or go out to a restaurant, if you prefer.”

Kye leans back in his chair, glancing at me. “Maybe in a bit.”

Eoin clears his throat. “So ... don’t take this the wrong way, because, I love you, son. But what are you doing here?”