Kingdom Come (18 page)

He snapped his fingers. “Just. Like. That.”

“You’re a monster,” I whispered. Angry tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let him see me cry. Instead, I stormed from the room, keeping my head down as I made my way to the stairs.

“Callia!” he barked.

I whirled around, wiping away the wetness streaming down my cheeks, and glared at him as he strode toward me. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop—”

He slapped a hand over my mouth, fire raging in his eyes. “I’ll call you whatever the hell I want. This is
my
house, and I don’t tolerate disrespect. Do. You. Understand?”

I bit his hand, and he snatched it away with a curse. “I only respect people who deserve it. Besides, what happened to it being ‘our’ house,
brother
?”

His chest heaved, and for a split second, I half-expected him to haul off and hit me. Just in case, I took a step back.

“
Why
do you insist on being so confrontational? All of this?” He waved his hand around, gesturing to the large foyer. “This is yours!”

“But I don’t
want
it!” I shouted. “Don’t you understand that? Don’t you realize what you’re doing, what you’ve done, is wrong?”

“How is it wrong? Please, enlighten me.”

“If I have to tell you, then you’re beyond hope. It . . . it’s humanity, Bennett. It’s having compassion and love for the people around you. It’s trusting that the world is a good place. That even though life sucks sometimes, it’s worthy of living because of the hope of something better out there.”

With a shake of his head, he took a step back. “Well, there’s where we differ, sister. I’ve already told you—I trust no one but myself. So, placing my trust in this world as it is?” He scoffed. “That’s weak. Stupid. But I—we—could change it. We’ll be the leaders of a new world—
The
New World. We’ll have our own rules, our own brand of justice. And those people out there, the ones you’re so determined to save? They’ll follow without a second thought because they’re sheep. They
want
a leader; that’s why they’re here in the first place. Don’t you understand that power? Don’t you crave it? Can’t you feel that you and I were born to lead?”

“Right now, I feel nothing but disgust for you,” I said. “And pity. But mostly disgust.”

“Well, you don’t have much of a choice from here on out, Kerrigan. I can make you help me, but it’ll be much easier if you do so willingly. I’d suggest thinking carefully before you make up your mind.”

“And just how do you plan on making me?”

He smirked. “Did you forget about your little boyfriend? Ethan, is it?” My lower lip quivered, and his smirk grew into a grin. “Well, this is just the sweetest thing. Yeah, Nate told me about you two lovebirds. And he’ll be handy as collateral, if you will.”

Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry in front of him
. I backed up the steps, chewing on my lip to keep the threatening tears at bay. He knew he was right—it was written all over his face. Everything I’d ever known was gone, and it was all his fault.

Without another word, I turned and ran up the stairs, taking them two, sometimes three at a time. Somehow, I found my way back to my room. When my door was locked behind me, I curled up on the bed and finally allowed myself to bawl. I cried for my family, for the doctor, for Haven, for everyone who’d died for no reason whatsoever. And then, I cried for Ethan, who was locked away somewhere in this God-forsaken mansion, suffering . . . all because of me. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to him. He was the one good thing I had left in this screwed-up world, and I clung to that with all my heart as my eyelids grew heavy.

I’d find a way to save him. I had to.

~*o*~

A rapid knock on the bedroom door woke me some time later. When I forced my swollen eyes open, the room was dark. The clock on the nightstand read 9:42, which meant I’d been out for at least a couple of hours. It was the soundest sleep I’d had in days. The knocking resumed, even more insistent, and I snapped out of the half-asleep daze. My body protested when I swung my legs over the bed and padded across the soft carpet. The second I turned the door’s handle, it was pushed open and a hand clamped over my mouth. Just as I was about to scream, the intruder flipped the light switch and removed his hand.

“Danny?” I shrieked. He was still wearing his guardsman uniform, but he wasn’t the picture of composure he’d been at dinner. He was flustered and breathless, his eyes wide as he shushed me. “What the
hell
are you doing here?”

“Shhh!” He reached behind and clicked the lock on the door. “I don’t have much time to talk,” he said. “They only agreed to let me come check on you because I convinced them you’d only trust me at this point.”

“But I don’t.” I shoved him back against the door. “I don’t trust you at all, you backstabbing—”

“Damn it, K, shut
up
.” He grabbed my shoulders, leaning down just enough to stare directly into my eyes. “Think for a minute. You really think I’d join up with that douche just to be part of this ‘New World’ shit? You actually believed I’d fall for that BS?”

As I looked into those deep green eyes of his, I knew the answer was no. Danny wouldn’t do something like that, and I felt like an idiot for assuming he would. I should’ve known he had something up his sleeve. I shook my head.

“Play the good sister,” he continued, “and I’ll play my part, and we’ll figure this out together. We didn’t come all this way to give up now, you hear me? You just have to stay strong.”

“I’m so tired of being strong, Danny.”

“I know,” he said. “So am I, but this is our shot. They have a hell of a lot of drive, but you’ve got something they don’t—a heart, and a damn good one, at that. Keep your eyes open, and stay on guard.”

“I can’t stop thinking about them,” I sputtered as hot tears spilled onto my cheeks. “Haven, and the doctor, and—”

“No-no-no,” he said with a swift shake of his head. “No, you’ve got to stop that. Right now. Clear your head. Think about yourself. Focus on how we’re going to fix this, you hear me?” He studied me for a moment before asking, “What’re you thinking about?”

“Ethan,” I whispered, wiping my eyes. They burned so badly from constant tears and lack of sleep that I was surprised I could even see anymore. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to him, Danny.” My voice cracked, and his face fell.

“It’s better that way,” he said, bringing me in for a hug. I latched onto him, thankful to still have him on my side. As far as I was concerned,
he
was my brother. “At least this way, Ethan won’t see you cry over him. That would kill the kid’s heart.” I nodded against his shoulder while he hugged me tightly. “Let it all out now, because in front of them, you need to be cold as stone.”

I sniffled loudly and backed away so I could see his face, which was blotchy and tear-streaked. “Where do we go from here? Where do we even start?”

“This house is our stage right now, and your first performance is bright and early tomorrow.” He leaned over and kissed the top of my hair. “Break a leg, Pretty. The world’s counting on us.”

I did my best to smile, but the effort was futile. “Dude, I’m so far from pretty, I don’t even know what it looks like anymore. But thanks.”

His lips turned up into a half-smile, and it was then I saw the bags under his eyes. The creases lining his forehead. He’d aged so much since all this started. We all had.

“After seeing you survive all this? I think you’re even prettier.” He turned the door handle, and peeked out the door before stepping into the hallway. “We’re gonna get out of here,” he promised. “You, me, and Ethan—we’re all going home.”

“Where’s home?”

He shrugged. “Wherever we choose to make it. But we’ve got to get out of here first.”

Chapter 17

I walked into Bennett’s office at eight sharp the next morning. After a night of tossing and turning, I’d decided Danny was right—we needed to play along with this whole production, no matter how insane it seemed. Deep down, though, all I wanted to do was stay curled up beneath the covers and pretend the world no longer existed. That was kind of what was about to happen, anyway.

So, that morning, I took a long shower, spent time actually styling my hair, and slipped into dress pants and a cashmere sweater before heading to my meeting with the man himself. Judging by the wide smile on his face, he approved of my appearance much more than he had the night before.

“Good morning.” He stood from his place behind a large mahogany desk and made his way to me. He reached for my hand, and I barely resisted the urge to flinch back. Instead, I gave him a tight smile. “How’d you sleep?”

“Not so well.”

“Is your room uncomfortable in any way?” he asked, guiding me to the leather chair in front of his desk. “Because if so, I can have that fixed. Just tell me.”

This composed and polite guy could change in the blink of an eye. All it took was one wrong word. I had to remember that.

“No,” I said after a long pause. “No, it’s fine. Just thinking, was all.”

“About what?” He gestured to the chair, and I sank into the soft brown leather, gazing at the shelves of books lining the walls. There had to be hundreds of books. “I don’t want there to be any secrets between us, Kerrigan.”

My eyes snapped back to his. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re a master of secrets?”

Ignoring the question, he walked over to one of the bookshelves. I shifted, attempting to get comfortable, but there was no shaking the unsettling feeling in my stomach. Simply being in the same vicinity as him made me nauseous. He selected a book that looked about the size as one of my yearbooks, and headed toward me with a smile.

“Secrets from the outside world, yes. I’d say I’m a master of those.” He held the book out, which I took carefully. It was leather-bound, heavy, and clearly ancient, yet well taken care of. “Secrets from family? Never.”

As much as I wanted to attack that with sarcasm, I thought about my agreement with Danny.
Play along
. I nodded once. “Understood.”

With a nod of his own, he straightened his tie and walked around the desk. “In that book, you’ll find anything you need to know about our family,” he explained, sitting. “Our history, the story of the scrolls, even the explanation of our gift. You must understand that I’m only sharing this because I’m choosing to trust you. If you are to be my partner, my co-leader, then your knowledge of everything in that book is pivotal. Don’t make me regret my decision. Am I clear?”

I looked down at the book, and it did intrigue me more than a little. However, time was crucial, and I didn’t want to waste it by reading the hundreds of pages on my own. I set the book on the arm of the chair and clasped my hands in my lap to conceal their shakiness. “I’d rather hear those things from you,” I said. “I’m sure you know plenty, and honestly, my brain is still too tired to even consider reading right now.”

“You’ve become rather compliant over the past twelve hours.” He regarded me for a long moment. “Change of heart?”

“You could say that.”

“Well, where should I begin?” he asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk.

I wasn’t sure, actually, so I stuck with the first question that popped into my head. “Why are we like this?” I gestured between the two of us. “The whole visionary thing, I mean. Are there more like us?”

His smile returned. Clearly, the key to his happiness was talking about himself.
There’s a surprise.
“Ah, quite the contrary. You and I are the last of a dying breed, sister. As to why?” He shrugged. “There’s no explanation, other than that our gift is a product of fate itself.”

My mind whirled as he spoke with such confidence. Such pride. For as long as I could remember, I’d seen my visions as a curse. They made me feel crazy, and made others see me as such. But Bennett was actually proud of what we were. For a moment, I considered that maybe I wasn’t such a nutcase, after all. Then I remembered why I was there in the first place. The only other visionary out there, the only other person like me, was bent on world domination.

Yeah. It was still safe to consider myself a nutcase. Visionaries didn’t have the greatest track record.

“Next question,” I said. “When I told you about my visions of death—my death—you nearly spazzed out. Why?”

He laughed, and I wished I could smack him
just once
and get it out of my system. He’d promised me answers. I wanted them.

“It’s silly, really,” he said, still chuckling.

“Well, I’d love to be let in on the joke.”

“As you so eloquently put it, I did ‘spaz’ out over your revelation yesterday, and that’s because it was something our uncle warned me about time and time again. He always told me that if I started having visions of my own death, I should come straight to him. What he never told me was why. You say you dreamt of yourself at the gates of Hell?”

I nodded, and he pointed to the book. “According to that, there are only two possible explanations, and they’re both preposterous.”

He laughed again, and that did me in. A hard slap on his desk silenced him. “Anytime would be lovely,” I said.

His jaw stiffened, but he continued. “Both explanations revolve around the bringer of death. Number one: you manage to escape the grounds during his reign, and he takes you back to Hell himself. You and I both know you’re not getting out of here, so there goes that. There’s also explanation number two: you somehow manage to open the scroll yourself, become the Mistress of death, and are given a free pass to Hell, allowing you to come and go as you please.”

All I could say was, “Oh.”

He snorted. “Exactly. It’s ridiculous. So, you were clearly mistaken. Either that, or it was a simple dream unrelated to our gift.”

“Speaking of this ‘gift,’ I haven’t had visions in days now. At first, I thought it was because I was so exhausted and out of it. But even after getting decent sleep, after resting . . . nothing. What gives?”

“I don’t have a clue. I haven’t had any either. I’d venture to guess that it’s simply a dry spell. I’ve had them from time to time throughout my life. Haven’t you?”