Page 9 of Cursed Lifeline (Eternal Love)

Eight

Felix

SONG: DIRTY LITTLE SECRET | X V I it's only natural I keep some from you, mother."

The Queen of the damned rolls her eyes as she looks back my way. Worry fills her expression as she gently places her right palmagainst my cheek and says, "It's the secrets we keep that ruin us in the end, Felix if we're not careful."

"I'm always careful," I tease with a wink.

She studies me closely. Her left hand rises, and she places it against the opposite side of my face. Caging my cheeks tenderly between her timeless palms, her eyes search mine, and I hold still, letting her use her powers to see what I can not. Slight panic spreads across my skin as she peers through space and time, unraveling more than I'll ever know.

"One day, you'll have to make a choice," she finally states. Her words shake me more than they should, though I try to disguise it. "For the coven's sake, I hope you make the right one."

"You put too much faith in him," Viktor grunts at her side. Sitting to her left, on a smaller throne that matches my own on her right, my brother sighs, "He's destined to disappoint you, mother. When he inevitably does, where will the coven be then?"

Leaning back from my mother's embrace, I sit on her right and bite my tongue.

"Destiny is subject to change, Viktor," my mother says. "For now, Felix's future looks just as I had expected, while yours is still questionable at best."

Viktor begins to protest, when one of the regents enters the throne room and says, "Queen Drusilla, the council is ready for you."

"Show them in," she grins.

As the doors open and we wait for them to walk towards us, I look at my mother, the Queen of the Damned, and know, contrary to what some may have been told or believe, she wasn't born a vampire. She was made. By the original king of our kind, Draven Caldwell.A king who, beyond his control, fell in love with my mother, the slayer.

The Magister Council in charge of training, mentoring, and advising each slayer when they are called, thought they knew what they were doing by choosing my mother. She was born into the Divine Raven Coven. A long line of witches feared the world over.The council thought they had fate on their side when choosing my mother. They had ordained someone with the strength and ability of those who came before her but with the magical powers none of her kind ever possessed previously, so they felt confident she would finally be the one to defeat King Draven.

In a sense, I guess they were right. Fate just put a different spin on their story than they expected.

My mother never talks about her past. Young and na?ve, legend says she fell for and trusted my father when she shouldn't. He promised her the world, all the virtuous splendor above and sinful desires below if only she would give him her heart. When she did, his craving for her grew. Consumed, he became feral with the need to claim her. She gave herself to him one night and conceived me while she was still mortal. It's said the only way she survived the pregnancy was because of her witching powers.

When I was born a mortal, my mother became nervous. Worried my father would try to change me, she denied him their bed. But vampires are a jealous breed. Possessive. He gave her space for a short while, while he plotted ways to secure their future. One night, he changed her against her will. Biting her without the intention to feed, he infected her with venom. But infecting her alone wouldn't change her. Not if she didn't feed on human blood.

I've been told he had the chance to stop her, to chain her, cage her, have her wait the maddening thirst out until sunrise, and she would have turned back human. Instead, he unleashed her on a group of innocents. Together, they feasted until dawn, and my father relished in the thought of the new life he had secured for them. A life he had secretly craved since they first met.

When my mother's frenzied state had subsided, she was furious and worried more for my mortal life than she ever had before. To show her he was sorry, he promised she could rule beside him as Queen and raise me any way she liked as long as she forgave him.

She eventually agreed, as long as he promised to keep me safe. Welcoming him back into her bed, she conceived Viktor. When he was born a vampire, despite my father's previous promises, he became angry. His oldest son was a mortal, and he wouldn't have a mortal rule his empire one day.

He wanted to change me. But my mother refused and wanted me to live a mortal life as long as I could. She knew there was a chance I could go through the change when I turned seventeen and become a vampire myself, but she at least wanted me to experience mortality and a life she was forced to give up against her will.

For seventeen years, I did, and those were the happiest years of my life. I drowned myself in art, music, and poetry. I dreamed of one day falling in love, and devoting myself to one woman honorably for the rest of my life.

But as my mortal years wore on, my father grew anxious. He wanted to secure the state of his empire. I’ve been told, even though my father loved my mother, with others he was a vicious, cruel, ruthless king. Sure this time he couldn't be stopped, confident he was going to change me against my will, one night, while he lay peacefully asleep, my mother decapitated him with his own sword. Dismembering his body, she sent it to opposite sides of the world where she had it burned by covens she trusted so there would be no way anyone could ever resurrect him.

No one of our kind has been born yet with the power of necromancy, the ability to manipulate life and death. If one ever is, that could change everything.

After his demise, my mother took my father's throne.

Eventually, my mortal life ended, I lost my soul, and I've never been the same since. I've never had the same thirst for life as I did before. Not until my dead gaze locked recently on baby blue eyes, a doll-like face, heart-shaped lips that took my breath away and once again gave me hope for a future I once desperately sought.

When I went through the change, we learned of my magical powers. A gift handed down through birth from my mother. Her connection to witchcraft is also the reason why most of the other members of the coven have magical powers, too. All of our kind have the ability of speedy travel, accelerated healing, flight, and superhuman strength. Most of us can read minds, some can even shape-shift. But through time, and with my mother's tutoring, I have also mastered the gift of illusion and teleportation.

Dimitri, and Talon can control nature, and conjure objects just like my mother, thanks to her teaching. However Talon is still coming into his powers, being the youngest of us all, and there may be more to his abilities in the future. Like the recent discovery of his tricks with shadows.

The only one of us that lacks magic at his fingertips is Viktor. Mother says it's because he is more like our father, and I am more like her. A fact that has always made him jealous and has caused a rift between us to this day. To say we aren't close is an understatement. In fact, I'd bet money he's plotted my death over the years, and I'd be lying if I didn't admit I'd also done the same.

As Dimitri and Talon enter the room, they are followed by the rest of the council, our sisters Adrestia, Verena, and Duvessa. The femme fatale as some like to call them. All three hold the power to peer through space and time like my mother, but each also brings a separate gift to the table. Adrestia can teleport. Verena can control nature. Duvessa can conjure objects and manipulate minds. And all three can shapeshift into lithe black panthers feared worldwide.

"How many have died in the last ninety days?" my mother asks as they approach.

"Seventy-five thousand, Your Highness," Dimitri informs her, though I could have told her that.

"And how many have been changed?"

"Thirty-eight thousand are now members of our militia, Your Majesty," Adrestia confirms, though I thought the numbers were slightly higher when we left France.

As part of the trade for helping King Louis, we'd kill the peasants who were refusing to conform to his reign in exchange for changing the ones who we saw fit to enter our military. The death dealers.

"Any high rank that I should be made aware of?"

"Only three," Dimitri says. "One Lord and two Ladies."

"What of Lord Laurent and Lord Martin," my mother asks, "Would they make a welcome addition to our family?"

My hands grip the ornate wood on the arm rests of my throne until my knuckles turn white. The thought of either becoming one of us causes a violent anger to simmer in my normally cool veins.

Neither is worthy.

In fact, I would rather push a stake through my heart than have to spend an eternity with either of those two fools. Viktor glances my way and notices my distress. Sensing his condescending glare, I shoot him a warning one of my own, and inflict terror into his mind that forces him to remain silent. My mother senses our brotherly fight, reaches out without glancing my way and rests her hand on top of my own.

"Secrets," she whispers, as her saddened stare turns and finds mine, "don't remain secrets long if you can't control your emotions, Angel."

Her pet name for me since I was a child is soothing when it shouldn't be. Maybe Viktor is right. She does think too highly of me.

"How much longer will King Louis require our services?" she asks, taking her hand away and focusing back on the council.

"The lower class has no desire to listen," I sigh, chiming in for the first time. "Since arriving in France, I have studied them closely. Trust me when I say they will not be stopped."

"Then King Louis will lose," my mother says.

"He's already lost," I add. "Prolonging the inevitable is buying him more time to ruin the country. It would be better for France if this whole revolution ended quickly."

"And how do you propose we enforce that?" my brother, Viktor, huffs sarcastically.

"We kill him," I suggest with ease. Raising my right leg, I rest my ankle on my left knee and lean back into my throne. "The sooner the better. That way, France can finally build the country they deserve."

"That's not the deal we struck with the King," my brother lashes out. "If we even try to..."

My mother holds up her hand, silencing her younger son. His jaw ticks. His eyes widen in anger. But he stops talking and bitterly looks away.

"What do Lord Martin and Lord Laurent have to say about what is happening in their country?"

My brow furrows because I don't know why she is concerned in the slightest about the two men that I would like nothing more than to be granted the power to kill. Dismember. Send to an eternal death for what they have demanded of Esmerelda. My mother looks my way and raises another condescending brow. She's read my mind, and knowing so, I blush slightly and try better to control my thoughts.

"Lord Martin wishes to be one of us," Dimitri scoffs.

I shake my head with disgust. I will fight to my death before I ever see that happen. Even go against my mother. Not for Esme, I try to tell myself, though my heart knows I'm lying, but for the safety of the coven. My mother glances my way and gives me a look that hints she knows something I don't. Irritated. Anxious. Annoyed that we are even having this conversation, I start to speak when Duvessa sighs, "Lord Laurent wants nothing to do with our ways."

"Smart man," my mother mumbles under her breath.

Viktor hears and shoots her an alarmed look. I smile because she's right. If there is one thing Mother and I agree on, it's the fact that we'd both prefer a mortal life over the one we've been forced into.

"And what of Lord Martin's daughter?" my mother asks; my heart rate speeds up. "What does she want?"

"She's becoming more and more the slayer each day," my sister Verena says. I grip the armrests of the throne I'm sitting on harder. "Alfred has increased her training schedule. She's smart. Quick. Strong. She's being trained against us, but..."

Her eyes drift to me, and my jaw ticks in warning. My sister tries to hide her slip, but her careless glance tells more than either of us wishes.

"But?" my mother asks, turning her attention my way.

I look down into my lap.

"She has a weakness," my sister continues. "I say we use it to our advantage."

"No," my mother sternly says without pause. "That is not an option."

Her last sentence holds more venom than expected, but I guess it makes sense considering her past and my father.

"Felix," my mother says, urging me to look up at her. "What do you say of Esme's weakness?"

"It's of no concern to us," I say without thinking.

"It's of every concern to us," Viktor scoffs.

My mother sternly glances his way, and he falls silent.

"It's not an issue," I lie. "It's not our weakness."

"Are you sure?" my mother questions. Concern fills her eyes as they swing back my way.

"My loyalty is to you," I say sternly. "To the coven. No secret, no weakness can change that."

Taking a deep breath, my mother says, "Mortal or immortal, loyalty lies where the heart is."

"Well then, lucky for us, I don't have a heart. Or a soul. Not anymore. When it comes down to it, I've always lived with one foot already in hell more than the rest of us since the day I was changed."

"Until one day," my mother softly says, "When something or someone comes along and makes you want to take a step back into the land of the living."

"As fate would have it, mother," I growl under my breath, "my immortality makes that impossible."

Rising from my seat, I stalk down the throne room steps and across the long corridor leading towards the exit.

Esme was born to hunt, not love our kind. But, truth be told, if Esme ever did love me one day, my heart might just wish to do the same.

Then, she really would become my weakness.

But loving me would put a target on her back and make her hunted by every coven worldwide, if only to get to me. My mother. My family.

It's best I do as originally planned.

Stay away.

If only it was that simple.

I shake my head and try to clear Esme from my thoughts as my mother, my brother, and the council let me leave the throne room in silence.

Only problem is, she's always there.

Tempting me. Haunting me. Drawing me closer.

Why?

I can't make sense of it.

Only one thing is for certain: Esme can't give me her heart, and I won't let her have mine in return because I know how this story ends.

Never well.

Not just for me, but for the two of us.