I've tried to make the move into Dalton's room as smoothly as possible.
I'm still a little shocked that he even offered it, and without anyone else pressuring him. I almost kind of wish he hadn't though. For a week now every time I'm alone in the room he's all I can think about.
These blankets smell like Dalton.
Dalton forgot his hairbrush.
Dalton's CD collection needs to be reorganized.
It's a full stream Dalton fest and I don't know how to shut my mind off of it.
It's not like we don't have bigger things to be worried about here.
I've run out of fingers to count all of our issues around Castrum on.
The service for Tommy was small, but emotional. I'd only met him the one time, but you could tell he was a good guy. I was surprised by how moved I felt as his parents got up and talked about their son. Dalton had moved in close to me, not enough to touch, but enough to show me he's there.
Like Pedro had said, his family is large and part of the upper class so it was only natural when Pedro and Lance made the announcement about the upping of security. I was pretty pleased when the rouse of protecting the reputation of the West Wing and making sure everything was in place for the ball worked. Mom and Dad had both told me how proud they were of my quick thinking. It was especially nice to hear from my Dad. He said he would have done the same thing.
My parents though are an issue of their own.
Since now they know about the missing people and the deaths, they've urged me more than once to come home, but I have to see this through. They try to be understanding but I know it must be driving them crazy having me here while they are so far away.
I jump a little at the soft rap on my door, then sigh to myself and call whoever it is to enter. Slowly, Lance and Dalton walk into the room, one after the other.
Lance comes over to me to squeeze my hand, while Dalton hangs back by the door but offers me a soft smile. It's been so weird lately. Like Dalton has finally decided to stop trying to scare me away anymore and now he's almost pleasant. Only making my 24/7 Dalton fest more intense. Even now I'm looking at the way his muscles snake around his arms and the cryptic tattoo on his bicep.
"What's the plans for today?" I ask quietly.
For a week now I've been carefully ushered dinner and lunch while staying on the royal level. I've hardly seen Fallon and Pedro has been so busy with his duties that he's been more of a shell lately too.
Lance smiles, going to have a seat on my vanity bench that was brought in for me.
"Pedro thought you may be going a little stir crazy." He shrugs one shoulder.
"Little is an understatement." I agree.
Though I'm talking to Lance, my eyes keep flitting back to the other side of the room to the handsome broody man who can't seem to keep his eyes trained downward anymore. We both catch the other looking more than once.
"That's why he thought it would be a good idea to let you go down to West Wing today for a real class and to collect the rest of your things from your room yourself." Lance continues. "Plus we can't very well convince the people that West Wing is truly safe if the king won't even let his own family member stay down there."
I nod, thankful for the opportunity to get out of this room and to get back to my classes instead of having the notes brought up to me, but I still felt on edge.
"Sounds good." I mutter, staring out blankly at the opposite wall, my eyes lingering over the tiniest of rips in the silk.
"Rose?" at Dalton's voice I snap my head back to him. "Everything ok?"
"I'm fine." I tell him, but then jump, heart hammering when a hand lands on my shoulder and I flinch back until I see it is only Lance. He pulls back his hand, eyes widened. I'd surprised him too.
Dalton flashes across the room, a streak of black until he reforms in front of me. He doesn't waste time with my excuses. Arms folded over his chest he looks down at me. "What's wrong?"
I sigh, letting my fingers intertwine together in my lap.
"Nothing," I say and then give Dalton a look when he opens his mouth to call me on my bullshit. "literally it is nothing." I explain. "There haven't been any incidents in a week now. No new missing, no visions of dead people, not so much as a guard disagreement in the barracks."
"Rose, isn't that a good thing?" Lance says gently.
Dalton sighs, dropping his rigid stance. "Not if you know more must be coming."
I nod slowly. "I feel on edge every day that nothing goes wrong." I whisper. "Every day we are getting closer to my vision of Pedro coming true, and every day we are no closer to finding out anything about these people or what they want or how to stop them."
Dalton's amber eyes bore down into mine. "Nothing is happening to Pedro." He professes firmly. "We will all come out on the other end of this, just like we always have before."
"What if all of our luck has finally run out?"
"What if it hasn't?" He counters. "You can't make yourself sick worrying over what hasn't come yet. We need you to prevent them from happening and you can't do that if you're wallowing in what if scenarios. It'll only drive you crazy."
I take a deep breath and let it go. "I know you're right, but I just feel...It's like my skin crawling." I shake my head and wrap my arms around myself. "I can feel something coming, but I haven't seen it."
Lance very tentatively slides his hand back onto my shoulder, making sure I'm ok with the contact. "We can cancel your plans today, Rose."
I put my hand on his and force a smile. "No, Dalton is right, I need to suck it up and face this head on. No problems shouldn't be a problem."
"Atta girl." Dalton says over his shoulder as he walks away. "I'm getting Fallon."
He leaves the door open as he crosses over to the suite to retrieve her and Lance sits down beside me. "You're sure you're ok?" He asks, his light eyes sparkling under the light of the chandelier.
I nod to myself and to him. "Yeah, no worries."
I hear the door to the suite close and Lance stands. "Alright, well I will see you later for lunch. Ok?"
Dalton appears in the doorway with Fallon in tow, a big smile on her face. "Ready?" She asks, clearly excited to be getting to go somewhere, even if it's just to class.
I stand to grab a black hoodie to pull on over my tank and skinny jeans and I shuffle to the door.
"Rose." Dalton narrows his eyes at me.
"What?" I shrug. He rolls his eyes and points down to my bare feet. "Oh, right. Habit"
I run to grab some sneakers and socks and say goodbye to Lance before hopping on the elevator with Dalton and Fallon.
Class goes by entirely too fast.
We finally caught up to the fifth King, my dad, King Calvin Gordonian Breathnach the Second.
"King Calvin, despite his shortcomings, and his short reign, is to this day considered one of the best ruling Kings." Malard had spoken of him with such respect. "He knew his kingdom. He was a fierce warrior from birth, a mind for schematics and execution of our military, while also being a level headed monarch despite his tutelage under his father King Gordonian Breathnach. He spoke for us, fought for us, and encompassed what a great ruler should."
"If he was so great why isn't he around today?" A girl in the back of the room asked carelessly.
Malard pulls up an image on the screen and I have to fight back my gasp.
Mom.
She's standing atop the grand stairs, a glittering gown, a crown on her head, and a smile that would make any man fall to his knees. She's everything I'm not. Beauty, grace, strength. Without having to speak a word she demands respect, but apparently not around here anymore.
"One of the failed King Gordo's many ploys was to bring in human girls to compete against one another to win the prize of Prince Calvin's heart. Though it was a mockery, this woman was found. Rachel was her name. She ruled briefly as our one and only Queen. However, where King Calvin was strong in every other aspect of his life, he was weak to her. He aided her escape from here, then when discovered he tried to pull the wool over our eyes when she was brought back here. He didn't want her here," He shakes his head disapprovingly. "their schemes to get away ended in their beheading at the hands of our own. King Pedro rose to succession soon after."
Even leaving class I couldn't get the images out of my head.
If I'd never known the real story, like all the others learning these lessons, I'd think Rachel and Calvin cowards and traitors. But I do know the truth. Which only makes hearing the lies they teach hurt that much more. My parent's names are drug through the mud for what they did to protect me.
"Got everything you need?" Dalton asks from the doorway to my room in West Wing.
"Yup." I sling the bag over my shoulder and follow him and Fallon out into the hall.
"Is that the story you were taught?" I ask Dalton and he sighs.
"Yeah."
"And what did you think of them when you heard that?" I know if anyone is going to be bluntly honest, it's Dalton.
"I think you already know the answer to that, or you wouldn't be asking." He tells me, holding the doors of West Wing open for us. "At the time I thought he was a joke and a fool for throwing away all the good he could have done over a girl. Especially one who had no business being here in the first place."
I'd asked for his bluntness, but that didn't make it sting any less.
"You said at the time," I point out. "what about now?"
Fallon's sharp scream curls through the corridor and Dalton jumps to action as I freeze.
Seemingly out of thin air a short red haired man appears, his eyes spinning unnaturally. He whispers something under his breath and Fallon falls to the floor with a thud. My mind works double time as the man turns his head, opening his mouth as he faces Dalton while he charges him.
Before he can mutter his chants and take out Dalton too, my fist flies forward, catching him in the mouth, throwing him off slightly before Dalton slams into his core, tackling him to the ground and swiftly ripping his arms clear off of his body, hot blood spraying the stone walls and floor.
I drop to Fallon, shaking her shoulders but she doesn't wake up, her eyes just stare forward blankly. "Fallon!" I scream, holding her cold body to me.
The man hardly struggles beneath Dalton, not that he'd have a chance. He's bleeding out on the floor, Dalton's white knuckled fists clenched around his neck.
"What did you do to her?" I yell.
Dalton slams the man's head back against the hard floor and he sputters blood.
"The girl will be gotten." He chokes out hoarsely, resulting in another slamming of his head by Dalton. "Little seer."
"Who are you working for?" He shouts at him. "How do you know about Rose?"
"Can't fight us." The man's eyes bleed to solid white. "Upon blood rain, new blood shall reign."
Suddenly what's left of the man's body goes limp.
"Dammit!" Dalton screams, tossing the man down and sliding on his knees to me and Fallon. "Rose, are you ok?"
"Why isn't she waking up?" I cry out, my shock keeping real tears from forming in my wide dry eyes. "Help her! Help her!"
"I don't know what to do." He shakes his head, lifting her body into his arms and pulling me out of the floor and away with him.
He calls for guards and they meet us at the elevator, taking Fallon's limp body from him and rushing away with her before I can even say another word.
Dalton pulls me onto the elevator, tucking me under his arm and holding my head against his chest protectively. "What happened to her? Where did they take her? I don't understand."
My body is squirming next to him, but he holds me firmly, turning me so I'll look at him, his hands on either side of my face. "She's going to be ok." He tells me, his eyes wide and his face smeared in red. "They'll take care of her. Everything is going to be ok."
"Nothing is ok!" I scream. "That guy might have killed her, Dalton! He could have killed you! All for me. That's not ok."
Dalton shakes my head a little, snapping me out of my panic. "Stop it." He tells me hoarsely. "She's going to be ok, they'll figure it out. And I'm fine too, thanks to you."
At the mention I notice the pain in my hand that the adrenaline had been keeping ebbed off. I clutch it in my other hand in front of me and Dalton manages to smile down at it, letting go of my face to examine my aching fingers.
"I think you broke your thumb." He shakes his head and then looks up at me. "Didn't your dad ever teach you how to throw a proper punch?"
I roll my eyes, my heart rate coming down. "I don't think my vampire parents were all that concerned with teaching me how to punch someone effectively without injuring myself."
"I'll show you one day." He says gently, tucking me back under his arm as he rushes me off the elevator and into the short hallway.
"Aren't we going to Pedro?" I say in confusion as he leads me to his room.
"He isn't in there, he went to check on Fallon, they'll send word."
I just want to collapse on the bed, but he pulls me to the bathroom instead. My head still runs in circles, Fallon's scream, Dalton smashing the man's head, the spinning of his eyes. Blood rain.
I barely notice as Dalton takes my hips and lifts me up onto the counter.
I stare straight ahead as he ducks his hands under my hoodie and pulls it up over my head, tossing it onto the floor. At the splat sound it makes when it hits the floor, I look down and see it's covered in blood. So are my hands and pants. I go to turn and inspect my face in the mirror, but Dalton catches my chin, turning me back to face him while he wets a rag in the sink and then brings it up to gently wash my face, starting at one cheek bone, down my neck and then the other.
When he finishes with that he puts it back in the water, wringing out the blood before very carefully cleaning off my bad hand and then the other one.
He pulls out an aide kit from under the counter and expertly wraps my hand.
"She's going to be ok, Rose." He says gently and my blurred vision comes back into focus on his eyes. He glances away from me slightly, finding his own reflection in the mirror behind me and I see a hatred grow in his dark burning eyes.
I slowly get off of the counter, taking the rag from his clenched fist and I turn him around, putting his back to the counter. He looks uncomfortable, but I step forward anyway, reaching up to clean the dark crimson blood from his face too. He leans into my hands and his skin is cool and soft beneath mine. After a minute he closes his eyes, leaving me to inspect his features without him noticing. The gentle slope of his nose, the arch in his lips, his long dark eyelashes, the way his strong jaw tenses when my fingers brush it.
"I think...I think you're going to need a shower." I whisper, his dark shirt clings to his body with sticky wetness and his hands and forearms are already dried in crimson. He opens his eyes slowly, blinking fast to look down at me. "I can run it for you, and you still have plenty of clothes in here."
I expect him to refuse, but instead he ducks his chin once, a solemn nod.
I walk over to the large shower and run the water, making sure it's the right temperature before I cross into the main room and find him a t-shirt, some sweat pants, and a pair of boxers and bring them back into the bathroom. I try not to gawk at him when I see him standing with his shirt off, checking the water temperature too.
His body, so tan and rippling with strength doesn't even make sense to my mind. How can one man be so beautiful, but so tortured at the same time?
I peel my eyes away and put his clothes on the counter and turn to go until he catches my wrist suddenly, pulling me back gently. "Thank you." He whispers, looking down at me and my parted lips. My eyes drop to his tattoo on his arm again and I look back up at him as I brush it with my fingertips.
"Until low I lie." I read it aloud. "Will you tell me why now?"
His hand pulls mine away from his arm slowly, but he sighs. "As a reminder." He tells me softly, a tone I'm still having trouble getting used to on him. "As long as I might live, whatever things might change, whatever I go through. I will fight." He says strongly. "I'll fight for what's right, and I will fight those who do wrong. Until low I lie."
Before I can say or do something stupid, like admit what's running through my head or let my body do what it longs for, I nod once. Backing away and into the other room, leaving him to shower.
Once in the room alone I change my own clothes, putting on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, then yank my tangled hair into a messy ponytail and I sit on the bed. A yawn pulls through me and I think about going to sleep, even laying back on top of the blankets and snuggling my face down into the pillow, but I can't close my eyes. When I do all I see is Fallon's blank stare, and the roll of the man's eyes.
Before I know it, my heart is racing again, the events of early fighting their way back into the forefront of my mind with Dalton not around to chase them away from me.
I hear the shower shut off and try to compose myself, but my fear is too strong. What if she's dead? What if they can't do anything? What if he'd been successful in taking out Dalton too? Where would I be right now?
"Rose." Dalton's voice makes me jump. I hadn't heard him come back out. "She'll be ok."
"How do you know?" I roll over in the bed to look at him, standing in the bathroom doorway, his dark gray t-shirt speckled with little water drops from his wet hair.
"Because I do." He shrugs. "Now please try to get some sleep. I'll come to tell you when I hear something." He says, crossing the room to the door.
I sit up fast. "Don't go." Tumbles out of my mouth without permission. "I mean, can you stay a little while? Just until I fall asleep?"
He lingers for a moment at the door, turning to look at it, and then back at me. Finally he nods and comes over to the bed, sitting on the edge beside me. With him nearby I try to believe him. Fallon will be ok. She has to be.
I lay back down on top of the covers, facing him I close my eyes as I settle into the pillows. Every time I'm on the edge of sleep, I see her face or hear her scream. I smell the blood and my eyes snap right back open. Dalton shushes me each time gently until I close my eyes again, but when it happens again I groan. It's been hours already.
I reach out and take Dalton's arm, pulling it towards me sleepily. I push on his chest, making him turn to his side, putting his legs up on the bed too and lean back against the headboard. He's reluctant but compliant as I snuggle closer to him, resting my head right beside his shoulder and I hold onto his arm, letting him be my anchor.
Slowly, my eyes flitter shut again, this time no images yanking me back.
I don't know how long goes by, but finally I'm right on the edge of sleep.
So much so that when I hear the soft knock on my door and feel Dalton moving off of the bed I don't stir. Too tired. I hear him walk across the room and open my door.
"What are you doing here?" I think it's Lance.
A sigh and huff. "She didn't want to be alone."
"She asleep?"
"Think so."
A sigh. "Good, Pedro and I need you." He mumbles in annoyance. "And Fallon is awake."
That's all I need to hear to fully relax.
I'm drifting out of consciousness as the door shuts and I feel blankets being pulled up my body, cool fingers brush stray hair away from my face.
Then so gently, I could already be dreaming it.
"You asked me how I feel about your father's decisions now," His voice is a murmur, as soft as the beating of a butterflies wings, but like them, they create something powerful. "I'm beginning to understand...what you'll do to protect someone you care about."