Chapter 19

19

GAbrIEL

I stumbled outside in a daze, the trash bag full of papers slung over my shoulder. I felt as though I were in a completely different world. My father was dead by my hand. I'd never delved so deeply into someone's memories before, and the aftershocks of his mind still haunted me.

Evangeline was on the gravel drive of the school, walking unsteadily toward the front entrance. When she saw me, she broke into a run.

"What happened?" She began to pat me down, checking for injuries. The blows my father had landed were already healing, my new strength speeding up the process.

"I know how we can stop Morgana," I said numbly. "There's a weapon. It'll be strong enough to destroy her."

Evangeline looked frantic now. "Gabriel, what happened in there?"

I shook my head. I couldn't talk about it, not yet. It felt like a physical feat of strength to meet her eyes. I hated worrying her, but I couldn't help it.

"All right," she said finally. "Let's get you home."

"Did we everyone get out?" I managed to ask, my voice a flat rasp. I had to know. I didn't know what I would do if the answer was no.

"Yeah, everyone's at the safe house. The others are making sure they get the help they need."

"Nathan?" He'd looked so terrible. It took a lot to kill a vampire, but not one with their life force leeched away.

"Marcus said he'd recover," Evangeline said. "We got to him in time, Gabriel. He'll be fine."

The vise around my chest loosened ever so slightly. One life saved, at least. One life out of hundreds? Thousands?

Evangeline wrapped her arm around me and nudged me into a walk. I fell into step with her and barely noticed the blip of magic from the teleportation. I kept walking forward robotically until we reached the safe house. Walking was simple and achievable. I'd done it for centuries. Before we reached the door, it burst open, and Lissa ran out, her face pale.

"Is it true?" she asked me. She didn't even acknowledge Evangeline's presence at my side. I kept walking.

Evangeline left my side, and I heard her saying something, but everything seemed very far away. The building rearranged itself around me, and suddenly I was on the second floor, with Lissa and Evangeline herding me to a sofa. Someone tried to pry the bag of papers from me, but I clung on tight. Those were important. It was my responsibility to deal with them.

There was a ringing sound, which I assumed was just a product of my shock until Lissa answered her phone.

"Yes, he's here," she said. "He just got back." A pause while she listened. "Are you sure?" A sigh, and then, "All right, but just… be careful."

She handed the phone to me, and I held it to my ear automatically, staring unfocused at the floor.

"Finally," said the voice on the other line. Gwendoline. "I've been trying to reach you. When I called you, some horrible child picked up."

"Yes." My tongue felt thick in my mouth. "That was Merri. I gave her my phone so she could watch YouTube."

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the call, then Gwendoline decided to brush past that. "All of the portraits in the vampire branch of the citadel have changed," she said, and the cautious note of sympathy in her voice startled me.

I rubbed a hand over my eyes, then pinched the bridge of my nose, hunching forward on the sofa to rest my elbows on my knees. "Already?" Just like everyone who'd taken a guided tour of the citadel, I knew about the enchantments on the portraits. They repainted themselves to show the current head of each sect in the event of the former leader's death.

"A few minutes ago," Gwendoline said. "I'm staring at one right now. It did a good job with your cheekbones."

"What do you want, Gwen?"

"Can't I just call to make sure you're handling this reasonably well?"

I didn't dignify that with a response. It wasn't that Gwendoline didn't care, exactly. It was just that she knew if I was upset, I wouldn't turn to her, so she didn't feel the need to insert herself when her presence would be of no use. Gwendoline was good at thinking that way, which made her exceptionally skilled as a political animal and fairly challenging as an acquaintance. She wasn't calling to offer condolences, and we both knew it. Above me, Lissa murmured to Evangeline, and they both watched me worriedly. Evangeline wasn't surprised. She must have already put two and two together.

Gwen sighed, sending a crackle of static down the phone line. "I know you probably don't want to think about this right now, but you are needed here. I've already dealt with the bounty on your head, so you won't have to worry about that, but people are panicking. Roland was in power for a millennium and a half. Even though most of these people never so much as spoke to him, they're floundering without him. You need to be here to sell the idea of power. I can handle the politics if you'll let me, but they need a face to rally behind."

"I don't deserve that," I blurted. I didn't know how I meant it. Did I not deserve their loyalty and support, or did I mean I didn't deserve the burden of taking over the mess my father had left behind?

"I know," Gwendoline said. "But that doesn't matter. I've been keeping things together so far, but I need you here as soon as possible."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "I'll see you soon."

I handed the phone back to Lissa, and she began a clipped conversation with Gwendoline about logistics as she left the room, leaving Evangeline and me alone.

Evangeline sat down next to me, and when she moved me so my head was on her shoulder, I went along with it limply. She took one of my hands in hers. It was still filthy, stained with the blood that was and wasn't my father's.

"I know this is, like, the worst possible time," she said quietly, "but I think there's something I should probably tell you."

"I… I can't. I need to go," I said, voice muffled against Evangeline's shoulder. "I have to make sure my people are taken care of."

"What? That's crazy," she said. "You can't help anyone like this."

I flinched and pulled away from her.

"I didn't mean it like that," she said quickly. "I just mean… What's the saying? You can't serve from an empty plate, or something?"

"You don't understand," I said. "I have a responsibility to these people. I can't abandon them now. I knew what I was doing when I…" I swallowed hard. "When I killed him. They need a leader, and now I have to step up. If I leave a power vacuum, Morgana could use that to her advantage and put another of her people in charge. Someone who might actually be loyal to her. No. It has to be me."

Now that I had a direction to move in, I had come back into my own body. That strange, unfocused haze dissipated. I'd have to call the council to a meeting. The Ash clan would fall into line behind me, but I might have more trouble with the Drehermann clan.

"Gabriel, you're dead on your feet," Evangeline protested. "You can't go charging into this without taking the time to rest."

"Would you take the time to rest?" It was a cutting enough question that I didn't have to ask it meanly to make it land.

She clenched her jaw and looked away. "You're barely out of shock," she snapped. "People aren't built to keep going at a hundred percent after something like that."

"You don't understand," I tried.

Evangeline scoffed. "Explain, then."

"I'm not just a person," I said tiredly. "Not anymore. I'm royalty, and now I'm in charge. I don't have the luxury of being a person."

Evangeline was on her feet now, pacing across the soft rug. The blood on my hands was itchy and starting to flake off. There had been so much blood on my hands recently. If I touched Evangeline, I would leave rusty smears behind on her delicate skin. I knew what I had to do. I had known what it meant when I picked up that makeshift stake. My time and my life were no longer my own. Killing my father had been horrible but necessary. Doing this would be horrible but necessary, too.

"I can't stand by and watch you throw yourself into this," she said.

"You don't have to," I told her in that polite, neutral tone I'd been taught to use.

She stopped pacing and whirled to face me. "What are you saying?"

I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to do any of this. I wanted to wash myself clean, then curl up in bed with Evangeline and not get up for a week. I wanted to give her a simple life with enough adventure to keep her happy, but a calm home to come back to. I wanted to give her what she deserved.

I couldn't. Not anymore. Maybe it had been foolish to think I'd ever had the capacity.

"Evangeline." I stood up and took her hands in mine, looking her in the eye. "You know you're important to me, don't you?"

"Gabriel," she said in a tiny, wounded voice.

Exhaustion seeped down right into my core. I didn't have the energy to wrap this up in pretty lies, and besides, Evangeline deserved the truth.

"I love you," I told her softly.

"Oh, God," she whispered, closing her eyes. She had already figured out where this was going. And why wouldn't she have? Evangeline was a smart woman. It was one of the first things that drew me to her.

I remembered the panic on her face when she'd thought I was hurt, the fury when I'd tested my theory about the stairwell. I thought about the names in the ledgers gathered in the trash bag that sat on the floor next to us. I thought about the long, brutal hours it took to govern, about the hard bargains and sometimes literal backstabbing.

"The world I've just thrown myself into is a cruel one," I said. "It's one that will be punishing at every turn. My time won't be my own. My moral compass won't be, either. I will have to be on my guard constantly. Everyone around me will want something from me, and some of those people—many of them, most likely—will be prepared to do horrible things to get what they want."

Evangeline squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips into a thin, white line, as though by physically closing herself off from this she could keep it from happening. I wished I could stop, that I could snatch back those words, but being in charge meant making awful decisions. By hurting her now, I could save her from years and years of pain that would curdle into resentment.

But that was the idealist's version of things, wasn't it? Odds were, using the wand on Morgana would destroy me along with her. The idea of growing apart long-term was almost childish. Breaking things off now was for the best.

"I can't let you follow me into this," I said in a rough voice. "You're already facing too much."

Evangeline's jaw flexed minutely. She wasn't just sad, she was furious.

When she spoke, it was with a crisp, controlled voice. "Well. It seems like you've made up your mind."

"I'm sor—" I started, but she cut me off sharply.

"Don't. Don't bother." She stepped away from me, leaving my hands hanging empty in the air between us. "Do you have time to tell us about whatever you found out from your dad, or do you need to run off for your fucking coronation?"

"I'll explain as much as I can," I promised. "And I'm still a part of this fight. I'm going to do everything I can to defeat Morgana."

I meant it. I would use the wand, even if it would destroy me. It had to be wielded by someone powerful enough to withstand it for a little while, and I knew with absolute certainty that if I didn't do it, Evangeline would insist on taking my place. That couldn't happen.

I would have to do as much good for my people as possible before we confronted Morgana. Again, my mind slipped away to plans. How many things could I set into motion? How many pieces could I put in place for my successor to use?

Evangeline looked as withdrawn as I had ever seen her. She would've seemed more vulnerable in full plate armor.

"I'll tell the others to gather for a meeting," she said shortly. "And to hurry since you've got places to be."

I slumped down onto the sofa, head in my hands. The trash bag of papers was at my feet. A hollowness had spread through me into every bone and nerve, but that could be useful. Birds used hollow bones to soar.

"Excuse me," I said to the building at large. "Does Marcus have a phone I could use?"

After a moment of hesitation, a landline floated over. It was a lurid shade of orange, and it looked like a cartoon cat. When I lifted the receiver, its eyes opened with a plasticky clacking sound. I wasn't in a state of mind to appreciate the whimsy. I punched in the first citadel office number I could remember.

"Get me Gwendoline Ash," I ordered as soon as someone picked up.

"She's busy at the moment. Can I take a message?" asked the harried-sounding woman on the other end.

"This is Lord De Montclair," I said. "She'll make time."

To the poor office worker's credit, she got Gwen on the line very quickly.

"I'm going to need a competent code breaker and a team of people to go through local records," I said as soon as Gwen was on the phone. "And a new phone. Send someone you trust to Wraithwood School to deal with my father's body. And tell them to bring a phone charger. One of the solar ones."

"What should they do with the charger?" Gwendoline asked, all business.

"Leave it outside the door of the teacher's lounge." Merri would figure out how to use it, I was sure.

If Gwendoline thought that was odd, she was either too well-trained or too busy to comment. "I'll have it taken care of," she said with absolute certainty.

"Good," I said. "I'll see you in an hour."