Alias: The Doyen Series book 1

(13) BETRAYAL

PICTURE: Whitlen home outside. 

"You W H A T?" I yell, jerking my hand from his.

I keep replaying the nightmare. He had tried to kill me. Was that a vision too? Did that actually happen? When did that happen?

No, I reason, there's no way. They can't compel me and I think I would remember something like that.

He looks hurt. You should, my subconscious seethes. "Aisling, I'm one hundred eighteen years old," he says like it makes everything come together and make sense. "I was born in the year 1900. Being that old and a vampire, well, you gain some enemies. Grayson was one of those," he takes a deep breath. "In 1948, he killed my mother, who was one of us." I assume by 'one of us' he means 'vampire'.

"My family was very close," he continues "So when your father killed her, he basically declared war. But since he is very powerful, it was extremely hard for my family to get to him. He is basically impenetrable. When you were born half a century later, it was the perfect opportunity to seek revenge." He stops and sighs.

Runs his hands through his hair.

Looks at me.

Looks away.

Opens his mouth to speak and closes it again.

Repeats.

It is silent for a minute. I know that there is more to the story and I want to know it. "No," I force through my perfectly straight teeth, "go on. Pleasetell me allabout how you wanted to kill me."

He closes his eyes in agony. This is hurting him as much as it is hurting me. My instinct is to run and comfort him; to kiss him and tell him that everything is okay.

But that would be a lie.

"The witches were forming an alliance against your family. And the vampires of the city teamed up to take Grayson down. Soon, the two formed an even greater alliance. My family and I saw it as the perfect opportunity to kill Grayson. We promised to avenge my mother's death and joined their movement. But then you just disappeared," he stops, closes his eyes. Swallows hard like he is drinking a bottle of syrup. Opens them again. Avoids mine. "The witches decided that it was a cloaking spell, a very powerful one, keeping you hidden. They knew that it would be years until they would find you again. So, we decided to take a few years to prepare for the war to come. I went to Maine, like I said before, during that period. The rest of my family went other places to pass the time. We didn't want to be noticed after staying here too long, after all. A few weeks ago, I came back to the city to meet up with Kieran," he says while nodding at his brother who is checking out a group of girls walking down the street. Kayde rolls his eyes and continues his story.

"Anyway, I met you nineteen years after we split up. When I met you in the bookstore, I had no idea who you were. I just thought you were breathtakingly beautiful. You looked lonely and sad and something made me—practically pushed me—to want to know you. When we touched and I saw that vision, I knew you weren't human. But I just thought you were doyen. I decided to follow you.

"I befriended you, watched where you went, saw how you acted with other people. Everything I saw told me that you had no idea what I was or what you were. This whole time I knew that something was between us but I couldn't put my finger on it. Last night was when I finally knew," he clenches his fist.

"That's why Grayson hates me so much. And he should. But the second I knew who you were, I knew that I wasn't going to hurt you. I swore to protect you. That is why I killed the witches yesterday. And Kieran," he points to his brother who is watching us intently now, "is going to protect you too. He knows about the bond. He knows that you're my... mate," he says the word, testing it on his tongue.

I look at Kieran and he bows in return like I have thanked him for not killing me or something.

"So you came to New Orleans a few weeks ago only to kill Annybelle out of revenge. And before you knew who I was for sure, you still wanted her—me—whatever—dead?" I ask, my voice laced with malice. I refuse to look Kayde in his eyes in fear of losing my temper.

His silence is the only confirmation I need.

"Okay," I say after what seems like hours. "Well, I'm going home," I turn away and feel Kayde grab my arm.

"Don't be mad at me, Aisling, please. I was stupid and mad. I didn't mean it personally," he pleads with me to let him in, to hear him out. I notice his touch is not helping me out.

I jerk my arm from his. "Don't," I warn. He steps back like I have burned him to the core. "I've put up with a lot lately. I can handle the vampires, wolves, and other creatures. I can—barely—deal with the fact that my whole life has been a lie," my voice cracks on the last word. I am about to cry out of frustration.

I bite my lip. Taste blood. Release it. "But there is no way in hellthat you can possibly think I wouldn't be mad at you!" I shout while throwing my hands up. "You were the one person helping me through all of this chaos. How am I supposed to trust anyone now Kayde? You wanted to kill me before you even knew me!" I am vaguely aware that I am crying now.

"I'm going back to Grayson's," I say, my voice dead and low. "And I don't want you to follow me. I will protect myself. If you follow me, I promise I will find a way to hurt you like I hurt that other guy."

I turn away. I know I am being foolish. I cannot protect myself from witches. I can't even protect myself from a roach. But I am not going to admit that to him.

I walk as quickly as I can down Dauphine street and almost lose it when I see the green French doors. I quickly rush inside and slam them behind me, sinking to the ground and curling in a ball in front of the door. I sit there for a while, just crying and feeling sorry for myself.

Grayson must have heard me come in, he has super hearing after all. But he is giving me my privacy and for that I cannot be more grateful. I just want a moment of peace before another bomb is dropped.

After 14 minutes, I decide to go to my room.

I brush through my hair again and splash water on my face. Then I apply 1 more dab of Orange Sanguine onto my wrist. I didn't want to go overboard. I know that being around a group of wolves probably means that they have super senses. I have a sensitive sense of smell myself, a wolf trait I presume.

Glancing 1 more time in the mirror, I sigh and straighten my skirt.

I can do this. I can forget Kayde for a little while.

I notice an open door on my way to the living room. This time, it is on the other side of the courtyard on the second story. I walk through the garden and up the other side's steps. I poke my head in the door, curious as to what it holds.

I am greeted with rows and rows of books. They are everywhere. I cannot even tell what color the walls are because there are so many. In the center are 2 deep burgundy Victorian couches, a marble table between them. Grayson is sitting on 1 of the couches.

"Ready?" he asks as he stands up.

He doesn't mention my breakdown at the front door. He does not threaten to kill Kayde. He does not ask me what was wrong. He just simply looks up at me and smiles.

"Let's get this over with," I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.

I just agreed to meet a pack of wolves with a man I barely know, I think as he shuts the door behind us.