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“We should probably go inside, unless the final act of this date is me being barbecued by a lightning bolt.”
16
“Son of a—”I cross the kitchen from the island to the stove, abandoning my turkey in favor of a pot of chicken stock now boiling over. I reach for the pot to remove it from the flames. Big mistake.“Ah!”As the searing-hot metal of the pot’s handles connects with my skin, I drop the pot. Chicken stock, diced onions and celery, and whatever else the cook left in the fridge for our would-be Thanksgiving dinner splatters across the floor. I throw my hands up in defeat and dab away the sweat on my forehead. This is great, just great. Because I don’t know who’s coming after me and Sophia, I sent everyone home—the groundskeepers, the maids, the cooks. Like Sophia said, this place is deserted, all except for my security detail, Gio, Sophia, Cassio and his small legion of men meant to protect my sister, and our resident FBI agent, Ariana.
The storm that swept in almost a week ago now made it too dangerous for Ariana to return home on her motorcycle. I could’ve driven her in one of my vehicles, but I thought it best she stays, in case Gio’s intel required us to leave for Boston without much notice. One night turned into five as the storm continued and Gio struggled to come up with enough intel on Avery Gallagher to form a plan. Now, the weather has cleared, and we have a plan to confront Avery tomorrow night at a showing ofThe Nutcrackerat the Boston Opera House. But, before that, is Thanksgiving—the one holiday that there is no Historical Preservation Society party or gala or Mafia business to tend to. It’s just for family. Since Ariana has no family and therefore has never had a proper Thanksgiving, I want to make this holiday perfect for her. Yet, without the help of my staff, I fear the only edible thing I’ll be able to muster up is chopped celery and ranch dressing.
“And I thought I’d seen it all,” Gio says. His lips draw into a smile stretching from one side of his face to the other as I turn back to the stove and switch off the gas burner.
“Now is not the time for jokes, Gio,” I scold him, though I don’t mean it. Every other day of our lives is a fight to the death. Today is one of the only days of the year we can take a breath and pray our enemies do the same.
“Fine.” Gio makes the motion of zipping his mouth closed. “But there is one matter you should be aware of.”
I give him a pointed look as I step over the slop now covering the terracotta tile. I make my way back to the island, grab a knife, and return my focus to the turkey. Gio knows not to bring business to my attention on Thanksgiving unless it’s dire. Whatever he has to say, I’d rather take my frustration out on the bird than him.
“I’m listening.”
Gio nods and takes a seat at the island across from me. “We received a call from the bureau. He wants to know why you’re looking into Ariana.” At that, I hesitate, my knife hovering over the slimy protein as I remember the deep dive I did on Ariana the moment I agreed to let her accompany me to Boston. To my surprise, many important records such as her birth certificate were missing. Though I’m not sure why I thought I’d have better luck than her. Ariana has the same FBI access I do thanks to my arrangement with her superior. She’s been searching for the truth for years and all her findings have done is lead her to me. Yet, the lack of childhood records for Ariana isn’t the only unusual thing I found. All records from her juvenile years were sealed. It must’ve caught Bilieux’s attention when I put in the request to unseal them.
“Did you tell him to mind his business?” I ask as I begin slicing the turkey without method.
“He claims that’s what he’s doing. For you to look into Ariana, it must mean she’s on your radar. How or why, he didn’t know. But he’s worried if she gets close enough to you, she may find out about his arrangement with you—hisrealarrangement.”
“You mean he’s worried she’ll find out her boss, the man who suspended her for speaking out against the very deal that protects him just as much as it does us, is a crook on my payroll. He’s worried she’ll try to blackmail him into giving her her job back or worse.” Gio nods. “Well, he shouldn’t be. I’ve been keeping an eye on Ariana. And, besides, her interest in me is purely personal. And, even if she did learn of our arrangement with Bilieux, she needs me. She won’t do anything to jeopardize our relationship.” At least, I hope not.
“That may be, but I can’t say the same thing for Bilieux. You know as well as I do that that snake will do anything to keep his secrets buried. If he thinks Ariana knows his secret…”
“The world learning of his affiliation with me will be the least of his worries if he so much as lays a finger on her.”
Gio watches me with surprise as I slam the tip of my knife into the wooden cutting board. I stand up straight and run my fingers through my hair to try to cool off. This is getting too complicated. A week ago, I would’ve said Ariana has gotten beneath my skin. Today, I… I shake my head, shoving the thought from my mind. Nothing good will come of it and Gio is too perceptive not to notice. Yet, he’s right. If Bilieux perceives Ariana as a threat, he’ll stop at nothing to remove her,permanently. And I can’t allow that. I won’t. I look at Gio then.
“You should alert our associate that Ariana is under my protection. He’s not to go near her—period. Once Ariana has learned why her mother was killed, I’ll pay Bilieux a visit and have him reinstate her. He’ll have no reason to worry about her blackmailing him when he can keep an eye on her himself and her work will keep her mind off whatever we discover about her mother. Not to mention being among her task force members will remind her of which side she’s on. The bureau is already corrupt enough. I don’t want Ariana growing so attached she starts crossing lines she shouldn’t.”
“You’re worried aboutArianagrowing too attached?” Gio asks, though it doesn’t sound like a question.
“Are you implying something?” My eyes narrow as the energy of the room shifts. Gio appears to be contemplating his next words carefully, but he wouldn’t be my friend if he wasn’t honest with me. Though his gentle delivery doesn’t make the words any easier to hear.
“Alister, I see the way you look at her, the way you not only tolerate her but enjoy her.”
“Your point?”
“My point is, maybe it’s not Ariana who’s at risk of growing too attached. Maybe it’s you.” At that, Gio stands and moves toward the exit that connects to the dining room. When he reaches the door, he stops. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, you know, if you cared for her. Things are changing around here.”
“Not fast enough, Gio. And not with any guarantees that let me know she would be safe by my side. You and I both know New Orleans will always need a king. It will always need rules, structure, an army that operates in the shadows to keep the monsters at bay. Even once we legitimize, to remain in New Orleans is to remain at war with whomever seeks this territory. There is no room for love in my life, Gio. And there never will be.”
“Very well.”
As Gio leave me, I take stock of my surroundings. Vegetables I don’t know the names of cover the wooden island. A half-mutilated turkey I have no idea how to cook lies in front of me. And for what? What I said to Gio is the truth. I can’t care about Ariana. I can’t care about any woman without signing their death warrant. First my mom, then my sister—any woman who either is an Amato or is loved by one is cursed. And yet, so are the men who love them. So am I. Because the truth is, Ariana hasn’t just gotten underneath my skin. She’s found a way inside my heart. Perhaps she crawled in through one of the cracks left in the wake of my sister’s death, or perhaps through the hole that’s been a permanent part of me since my mother was taken from me. However, or whichever, there’s a bit of warmth inside me that wasn’t there before. It feels like a glowing ember somewhere deep inside the dark abyss that is my soul. It’s small yet not easily extinguished.
I lean forward and rest my palms against the island as the window to my left allow the setting sun to cast a warm glow upon the room. My one day of peace is almost over and yet, it feels as if it hasn’t even begun. Tomorrow will bring war, how deadly and how bloody only time will tell. Maybe that’s why I wanted to make the best of today, not just for Ariana, but for me. I want to allow myself a day to feel the things I shouldn’t, to feel the things I wish I didn’t. Because I know that everything will change between us when Ariana finally sees me at my worst, when she finally meets the Blood King.
Ariana saw the remnants of my wrath when she investigated the crime scene that led her to me. She saw glimmers of my darkness when she spent time in my dungeon. I’m a monster. She’s seen enough to know that. And yet, somehow, she’s overlooked every sin. Our very first night together she said she was still making up her mind about me. I pray Boston isn’t the bloodbath I know it can be. But, if it is, her mind will be made for her, and she will never look at me the same way. She won’t be able to lie to herself anymore about who I am,whatI am. Maybe it’s for the best. In my heart, I know it is. Yet my clarity doesn’t give me peace. It only brings more pain—the pain of knowing I will never deserve a woman like her. I will never exist in her world, no matter how badly I want to. I will never break free of the shackles of this throne. I am forever the Blood King, and I am forever alone.
“Oh, sorry. Am I interrupting?” I straighten my back as Ariana’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. She stands at the edge of the kitchen, appearing from the servant’s stairwell. Her hair is pulled back low and loose. Soft curls fall forward, framing her face. She wears a short, shiny dress the color of gilded bronze. It looks exquisite on her. Yet, it’s not the dress that chases away the demons inside me and stokes the flames of that flickering ember in my heart. It’s the black combat boots strapped around her feet. Despite being dressed like a mini-Sophia this week, she hasn’t given in to Sophia’s heels. Her boots represent her and everything I admire about her—her strength, her humble nature, her willingness to fight for what she believes in and for those who need her help. As my eyes make their way back up her body, taking in every inch, they finally meet hers to find them filled with suspicion. “What’s that look?” she asks.
“What look?” I do my best to turn away from her, to look anywhere but her, but I can’t. As she moves closer to me, I’m transfixed by her.
“The one plastered all over your face.” She comes to stand across from me. She looks at me the same as before. Her chin tilts upward as she dares me to deny my feelings for her, my attraction to her. It’s as if she’s taunting me, yet I don’t think she realizes what’s she’s doing. Good. If she felt for me the same as I feel for her, walking away from her would be next to impossible. And yet, walk away I must. Just…not tonight. I still have a few more hours before sunrise.
