Authors: Eveline Hunt
“Just—skip.”
I looked down. I had more important things to think about than the songs he’d given me. The songs I’d listened to every night, thinking they’d been written and performed by contemporary cellists living across the world.
My voice was quiet.
“How many instruments can you actually play?” Just the two, he’d said. Just the two and my ass.
“Not many
.”
“
Asher
,” I said.
He had the grace to look sheepish.
“Only one hundred and seventy-two. I think. But that’s because I can play things like the balalaika and the
guzheng
. The Chinese harp. Beautiful instrument. I’ll play for you sometime. Also, I’m counting the variations—the organ and the piano are pretty much the same thing, see, but the sound is completely different so you should separate them, and—”
I stared at him.
“Compared to the thousands of instruments on Earth,” he said at last, “one hundred and seventy-two is really nothing.”
“Can I just—” I shook my head once. “Can I ask you a question?”
He waited.
I took a step forward, throat burning with tears.
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my life?”
“Ah,” he said, his voice soft
. Slowly, as if to make a peace treaty, he held his hand out. “Prince Lucien,” he said, tousled raven tufts falling over his eyes as he ducked his head. “Of the cold, terrible kingdom of Sielae. Pleasure to meet you.”
I
ignored his hand. “You’re the Prince,” I said numbly.
“A fact I’m not keen on sharing.”
Chest heaving, I said, “You’re the Crown Prince of Sielae.”
“I like to think I’ve separated myself from that title, but yes. Unfortunately.”
“I don’t get it,” I said, exasperated. “I’ve known you since I was twelve! How could you be—”
“A banished, lonely prince
who somehow ended up in the American high school system? That’s quite the long story, love, and not one I’m sure you want to hear.”
“I don’t understand.” I pressed
the butt of my palm against my temple. “Were you banished at twelve? Or were you reincarnated? I don’t—”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“This is ridiculous. We’re supposed to be friends! I thought I knew everything there was to know about you—”
He stepped forward and
brought me into his chest, tucking me against him. Then he smoothed down the back of my hair, doing so naturally and gently, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. My arms remained slack at my sides. Last thing I wanted was to have a stupid tear fest or some kind of romantic session with the least romantic guy in the universe.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated quietly.
“You should be,” I mumbled against his vest.
“I just wanted a good friend. Two good friends, actually. You and Sumi.”
I scrunched up my eyebrows. What the hell was he talking about?
“I’m no
t a patient guy,” he said softly. “So I thought…I’d give you some memories of me so we could be close. Without all the awkward first stages of…well, becoming friends.”
No. It couldn’t be. What the hell was this? Why was he—
“I’m sorry, Zel,” he whispered. “I arrived here only a year ago.”
What?
He brought me even closer than before and breathed the words into the crown of my head. “The first time we met was last summer.”
The ceremony
was a blur. Ash played the cello while Mom and Allie separately walked down the aisle, and he was, to put it in mild terms, fantastic. I stared down at my lap. Unseeing. Hunter, who was sitting next to me, tapped his pinky finger against mine.
“You all right
?” he asked quietly.
Keeping my gaze downcast
, I shook my head. The woman overlooking the vow exchange was saying things about love, reciting great quotes, etcetera. I didn’t lift my eyes from the skirt of my dress.
Halfway through Mom’s vow, I leaned toward
Hunter. “When did you say you met Ash?” I said, hating myself when my voice broke.
“Last summer.”
“And he…you don’t have any memories of him before that, right?”
“No.”
So he hadn’t bothered with Hunter. Why Sumi and me?
Right away, I got my answer. Because we were more susceptible. Because I’d thought I was human and Sumi
was
human. Our minds had been easy to bend to his whims. But Hunter? Hunter was half-demon. Hunter was his equal. He wouldn’t have fallen for such a trick.
“I
thought I’d met—” The words were a broken whisper, and I swallowed back tears. “I thought I’d met Ash when I was twelve years old.”
Hunter’s
expression softened. “Ah.”
Sniffling, I searched his eyes. “You knew?”
“He ranted about it one day. Sometimes he tells me about his problems without me asking. Quite amusing, really.”
“Did you know he was—
”
“Yes.”
“The Prince.”
“Yes.”
“And you…didn’t think to tell me?”
“It wasn’t my secret to tell.”
His voice was cool. Steady. He knew he was right. And it bothered me that he was. “Doesn’t it faze you? Having a royal best friend?” Then I realized. “Never mind. You’re Hunter Slade. Nothing fazes you.”
Faint amusement tugged up
one corner of his lips.
The rest of the ceremony went smoothly. Soon, peopl
e were dancing and the happy brides were laughing, faces warm and lively. The Chinese lanterns cast a golden glow into the purpling dusk. Music floated about, mingling with the lights.
I escaped to the back of the gazebo
and plopped down on the grass, pulling my knees up to my chest. My fancy ponytail had come undone—just like Mom’s; her hair was already half a mess—and curled wisps hung across my shoulders. They bothered me, and I swept them up.
And then I stayed there. Alone. Staring
at nothing, my chin resting on my knees. I didn’t want to see Ash, and he had the good sense to leave me be. After the vows, he’d tried to catch my eye. I’d turned away. I couldn’t bear to look him in the face.
We’d been all right. For five minutes, we’d been all right. I’d accepted the fact that he’d senseles
sly kissed me since last fall, and during the last month, we’d eased into a half-healthy friendship. But this—this just about destroyed the progress we’d made. Him being the Prince—that was fine. That was cool. But my memories?
I felt as if a part had been ripped out of me. All of those years—sixth grade, seventh grade, up until last summer—had been nothing but a lie. He had never been there. A ghost. A whisper.
The fabric under my chin was damp. I hastily wiped my cheeks. I’d needed a second to myself, and I’d be going out there soon. So—
“Well, well,” a voice drawled. “What have we here?”
Startled, I looked up—and stopped cold at what I saw.
Nikolas stood over me, a sardonic twist to his lips. He didn’t have a cigarette in his mouth and—again—there were no tattoos to speak of, but damn, it sure felt like I was looking at Hunter’s younger self.
I sighed. “Who invited you?”
“I did. Problem?”
“Does Hunter know his rebellious
zohv
is here?”
Anger
flashed across Nikolas’ face. “His
zohv
? Is that what he called me?”
I remained silent.
“I may have been born to replace him in case anything happens. That’s true.” He clenched his teeth. “But I’m Nikolai’s brother and you will not call me otherwise. Understand?”
I rose to my feet and
tried not to feel small under him. Unfortunately, Nikolas—for all of his boyishness—still had a head on me.
“Look, no offense,” I said, tiredly meeting his eyes, “but why does Hunter—Nikolai—need a body double?”
He studied my face, and then realization dawned on him. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Nor do I want to.” I didn’t think I wanted any more surprises tonight.
For some reason, he found this funny. He looked down, trying to hide the slow smile spreading across his lips. “Oh, my.”
I stared at him, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. I wasn’t in the mood to play his games.
“You know, that’s funny,” he said. “That he didn’t tell you. Because it seems to me that you’re one of the few people that—Hunter, is that what you call him?—cares about.”
“Well, I’ve been putti
ng up with him for months now. So, yeah, he’d better damn care—”
I wasn’t able to finish. Suddenly, wood bit into my back as I was slammed against the gazebo,
and my breath rattled out of my lungs. Nikolas stood over me, hands tucked into the folds of his pants as if he hadn’t just used them to almost break my ribs. The jest was gone from his expression. In its wake remained the sort of chill that crawled down to your bones.
For a
second, there was silence between us. He stared down at me with those icy flints of his. I focused on breathing evenly. I wasn’t afraid, not exactly, but I wasn’t thrilled, either.
“I do not like you, Hazel Lisle,” he said at last, voice cold and quiet.
I laughed weakly. “I think you’ve made that pretty clear.”
He didn’t look amused. No mocking smile. No sardonic glint in his eyes. “You don’t understand the depth of my dislike. I hate you more than Willa, Lucien, Lucien’s stupid little
zohv
, the entire population of Sielae and both of the bitches that call themselves the Queens.”
Only one thing stuck in my mind.
Ash had a
zohv
? God help me.
“I don’t understand,” I
said quietly. “You don’t even know me—”
He looked irritated.
“I’m his
zohv
, Hazel. You don’t think I have access to his thoughts? You don’t think his memories come when I least expect them?” His voice suddenly went up an octave as if to mimic that of a girl’s. “
Hi, I’m Hazel. Your partner for the next project. Hunter, right?”
I froze.
His expression barely changed. “I was right beside the two of you. Not physically, but when Nikolai lets his guard down, his thoughts bleed into me. Words can’t describe how fucking annoying it is to have images of you in my head while I’m trying to sleep. Or eat. Or breathe.”
I stayed deathly still.
Suddenly, the scornful look returned. “Do me a favor and die,” he drawled, taking a step back. “Kill yourself before I get my hands on you. And trust me, you do not want me to get my hands on you.”
His
edges blurred and then he was gone. I collapsed against the gazebo. My chest heaved. Did Hunter know—was he aware—
Goddamn.
I’d had enough on my plate with Ash and his fuckery. And then Nikolas had to show up, too? Just how many more things could go awry tonight?
A moment later I got my answer.
The earth trembled.
And
then the world exploded behind me.
Dread gathered inside
my stomach as I flashed toward the main area. Brushing my wrists together and unsheathing my swords, I burst into the scene—and stopped at what I saw.
Fuck. No. I couldn’t believe this.
The earth had cracked open in the center of the aisle. People were screaming, running, shouting. Mom was nowhere to be seen. I had no time to look for her. Suddenly, the jagged sliver widened—and out of it poured a barrage of creatures.
Strikingly familiar creatures.
That looked like exact clones of Husq, the Queen of Haelvia’s dog-centipede pawn.
There were too many and I could tell we were more than outnumbered.
A tinkling laugh sounded from somewhere above. Heart in my throat, I rushed into the carnage and headed toward the hole, thrusting my swords into the demons as I went, forcibly throwing them aside. I’d dealt with them once and they’d terrified me. But now that I knew what to expect, I had less of a hard time, and I turned just in time to kick one away and slash another one in the face.
Ash was already there, smoothly driving blades into clawed backs and kicking
Husq lookalikes into the crack, almost as if he were bored. Hunter, too, was at his side, Syizhael gracefully dancing through the air. There was a crease between his brows and a cigarette in his mouth.
And then I realized.
Allie’s guests. The Indian woman with the scar. The men that I’d assumed were her friends. All of them.
They were holding strangely beautiful guns and they
were fighting for their lives. Pulling triggers. Kicking and turning and aiming again.
The shot demons
exploded into a million dark tufts that right away winked out of sight. With a sinking heart, I realized it wasn’t enough. More and more beasts were pouring out of the earth, and the amount was unmanageable. My eyes found Allie and I saw that she, too, had reached for something on her thigh and was now sending silent rounds at the creatures.
Despite the dire situation,
a laugh escaped me. I wouldn’t have to look for Amelia. Amelia had come for me.
B
ut before my mind could process the fact that my mom’s girlfriend had been Nephilim all this time, a slimy body toppled into me from behind and I turned just in time to flop onto my back. Clenching my teeth, I held it off with my crossed swords and struggled to tuck my feet under it. Jagged molars snapped shut in front of my nose, and foul breath exploded across my face. I managed to kick out one of its claws. It collapsed. Before it could recover, I slid out, rose, and plunged my sword into its neck. Black muck exploded out of the wound and sprayed across my dress. I shoved it away and turned—
And the world dropped out from under me.
A white wedding dress. Pinned under a writhing mass. Her screams. All I heard were her screams. Allie was shouting her name.
And then all I saw was red.
I flashed forward, so fast that I didn’t have time to catch my breath, and kicked the beast off her. It growled and turned but the battle was over before it began. I’d already ripped the blade down my arm and lunged toward it, driving my weapon into its stomach.
And then it was gone, and I wanted to crouch, to pick her up,
to take her home. But I turned around and saw three more coming toward me—three more coming toward her.
My swords
flew. Plunging and cutting and turning and doing it over again. Claws scratched my skin and I didn’t care. Wetness slid down my temple. It hurt. A wound, maybe, and I still didn’t care. Blood and black dotted my vision and my muscles felt like liquid over my bones. She was breathing raggedly behind me. The only sound I heard.
More. There were more coming and I was ready.
Plunge, yank out, repeat. My hair was slick with slimy heat. I thrust my sword into another one, but gasped in pain when it managed one final hit and scraped its talons down my dress. But she was breathing behind me—she was breathing and that sound was the only thing that mattered.
Snarling, the remaining demons backed
up as if to launch themselves at me. And then, suddenly, there was the delicate sound of bells tinkling. Laughter, I realized. Someone was laughing.
“Oh, stop, stop,” a voice said
kindly from above. “Little pets, you’re going to kill the poor girl.”
I looked up
. So did the rest of the Nephilim around me, who right away lifted their guns at the pale figure regally gliding through the air.
The Queen of Haelvia
was descending on the scene, her face a mask of soft amusement, silvery hair cascading around her and pooling over the band of writhing
zokyies
keeping her afloat. Warily, I slid closer to Mom. But the Queen wasn’t looking at her. Or at me. She was currently spying the scene—the group of frowning Nephilim, a stoic Ash, and an unreadable Hunter, who had his eyes on his little creations and whose lips were tightly pursed, an unintentional dimple surfacing on his cheek. Her eyes lingered on him, crinkling at the corners.
“Hope you don’t mind, Nikolai,” she said, just as the
zokyies
hit the ground and dispersed. “I borrowed some of your pets. They’re charming, love. Good job putting those poor people’s ashes to use.”
My
heart turned to stone. What?
Hunter’
s expression remained the same, and from his lack of response, I knew it was true. The
zokyies
—they were made of—but how? Why?
My grip tightened
around the hilts of my swords. This wasn’t the time to think about it. Everyone was strung tight, their fingers stuck over their guns’ triggers. The demons crouched low, waiting, their growls the only sound in the night. Mom moaned behind me. All the other humans—Sumi, Mom’s bridesmaids, and the rest of the guests—had either run away or were hiding.
The Queen laughed again and made her way across the grass, her long dress trailing
behind her. A hundred barrels followed her every movement. “Why so tense, everyone?” she asked, turning in a slow circle. She didn’t look the least concerned about the array of guns trained on her. “When I was told that one of my own”—she nodded her head at Hunter, giving him a kind smile—“was at a party—and a wedding, at that—I couldn’t help but want to come. And when I saw that my friends from Amelia were here, well. The idea was irresistible.”
No one moved. But I saw people
scowling at Hunter, as if they thought it was his fault she was here.
Suddenly, the Queen’s feline features lit up. “Why, if it isn’t the Prince,” she said pleasantly, floating over to Ash
, tens and tens of barrels trailing after her. He remained stoic. “What a lovely surprise.”
She gave him a curtsy and grabbed his hand as if to kiss
the back of his knuckles. But before she could bring it to her lips, Hunter stepped in front of him, cutting her off. Ash stumbled back and blinked at the sudden gesture. The Nephilim shared tense glances but kept their guns at the ready. They didn’t want to shoot. Didn’t want to act rashly.
In a quiet, even voice, Hunter said, “You don’t touch anyone in this party except me. Understand?”
The Queen straightened to her full height, meeting his eyes across the small space that separated them. “Protecting the banished prince?” she said, her tone startlingly gentle. “I never thought much of you, Nikolai, but this—this is certainly a new low for you.”
Hunter’s eyes were steady. “Leave.” Then, quieter: “Please.”
“You’ve always been such a sweet boy, Kolya,” she said, and then sighed. “Which means you probably won’t want to comply with my next request.” Looking contrite, she reached up and brushed the back of her forefinger against his cheek. Softly, she asked, “Does this hurt?”
He pursed his lips tightly and his chest gave a slight, breathless heave.
Her finger trailed away, and a bruise bloomed in the wake of her caress. My heart fell. She could harm him—with just one touch?
“If it hurts,” she said kindly, “then you’ll do what I want. Right?”
He didn’t nod. He didn’t do anything. Only lifted his arm to hold back Ash, who’d been about to stalk forward, reaching toward his wing for a deadly feather.
“It’s all right,” Hunter
said, and then addressed the Queen. “What do you need?”
“I’m feeling qui
te hungry,” she said, and brushed her thumb over the corner of his lips. The rosy skin split and watery purple spilled over the surrounding area. He inhaled sharply. “And your little heartbreaker—well, she has a human behind her. She thinks that’s her mom, I’m afraid, but that’s a story for another time. You’ll get the heart for me, won’t you, love?”
My bones turned to ice.
Hunter’s eyes flicked to me. I backed up a little, shakily lifting my swords. I’d be willing to fight him. I hope he knew that. His gaze returned to the Queen. He gave her an imperceptible nod. He sidestepped her and made his way to me, ice shards rippling down his left arm, treating me to the jagged sight of Syivhail. As if he were his guard, Ash followed behind him, sword at his side.
I took another step back.
“Now!” Allie shouted.
The Amelian
Nephilim aimed at the Queen and silent shots flared through the air. She laughed as her growling demons darted forward and flew in front of her, exploding into dark tufts before others took their place. There were plenty of Husqs to protect her, and her twinkling laughter floated above the night. Hunter was still making his way closer. I didn’t know where to look. My weapons trembled.
And then I saw Ash.
He paused, his back to the carnage. Then he turned, lifted his sword—
And sent it flying straight at the Queen.
It pierced through a demon and straight through her stomach, releasing a chilling metal-against-flesh sound. Her laughter screeched to a halt. She looked down and scrunched up her eyebrows. As if something had mistakenly tickled her. The Nephilim stopped shooting, wide-eyed. The beasts slid to the grass, their claws clattering on the hem of her dress as they protectively skulked around her.
After
examining the hilt protruding out of her, she looked up and met Ash’s gaze. “That was not very nice, Lucien,” she said primly, and pulled the blade out with a slight grimace. She flung it to the side and it clattered to the ground, slick with her blood.
The Nephilim glanced at each other and then, after a slight nod,
shot at her again. Trying to take her in a brief moment of weakness. But her demons were there, fluidly intercepting the bullets, and she sighed.
“Clearly,” she said, her voice car
rying over the beastly growls, “I’m not wanted here. Nikolai,” she called. “I’ll be waiting for more souls tonight. Please deliver, sweetheart.”
The
Husqs settled into a strangely familiar frenzy, swirling around her and then slithering out of sight—taking her with them. I clamped the hilts of my swords together and, breathless, turned toward Hunter, who’d already walked past me—
And who’d crouched over my mom, two fingertips pressed against the pulse at her throat. He’d turned Syivhail
back into his normal arm. The bruise on his cheekbone looked like a glaring eye. Before I could speak, he said, “She’ll live, but I can’t help her.”
I stopped. Huh?
“What he means,” a silky British voice said over my shoulder, “is that he can’t heal her without turning her silver. Basically, without turning her into his pet.”
I ignored Ash. “Hunter, your—” A swallow. “N-Nikolas—he—”
“He’s emotional and often rash,” said Hunter, scooping my mom up and rising to his feet. “But I know him. Don’t worry about what he said to you. And I’m sorry if he’s a little…”
“Mean?” I said.
“He’s my
zohv
,” murmured Hunter as he turned toward one of the remaining tables and set her down. I followed. “It’s only natural.”
I spared a glance
toward Ash, who was watching me, and then looked down at Mom. Her face was peaceful, and her chest rose and fell evenly. “So a
zohv
is kind of like a…clone?”
“No,” said Ash and Hunter. At the same time.
“They’re our younger siblings,” said Ash.
Hunter: “Biologically speaking.”
“But mentally, they’re prepared to be like us. To act like us. They’re our understudies, and though they’re allowed a certain degree of freedom, they’re there to provide a safety net in case anything goes wrong. It’s a miserable existence.”
I frowned. “But why do the two of you need one?”
Hunter and Ash shared a glance. Then Ash turned to me, eyes hooded. “Let’s just say that we’re…high-risk individuals in Haelvian and Sielaean society. Hunter does an important job. And I’m a member of the royal family.” I hated that I had to hear this from him when I didn’t want to see his face. But I couldn’t help but pay attention as he continued. “I was banished, so my
zohv
is already being preened to take over the throne. And Hunter—well. His case is not like mine, but close.”
I
turned toward Hunter, trying to keep my gaze off the cut on his lip. “And what about you?”