A Cursed Throne by D.M. Simmons

Chapter 4

Nev

 

Sasha stirs her drink, a devious grin tugging at her lips, as Sebastian and Logan make their way across the room. The two had been eyeing a group of my father’s associates for the past hour, and after taking a shot of tequila for courage, finally decided to make their move.

“How long do you think until they strike out?” she asks.

“About two minutes,” I smile knowingly.

“No way,” she counters. “I say at least five.”

I look at her, brow arched. “Care to put a little money on it?”

“How much?”

“One day of shopping on the Saint Germain des Prés.”

“Oh Nev,” she holds out her perfectly manicured hand. “You’re on.”

We shake and then turn, both of us grinning as we lean against the bar.

Sasha was in my class at Locksley and ran with a different crowd in school. We weren’t friends then, but when we bumped into one another on the Champs-Élysées my first week in Paris, we clicked.

Sasha was a lightning rod. She was full of energy and excitement and a big reason my time in Paris had been so amazing. She was also instrumental in helping me get over Declan, and I would be eternally grateful to her for that alone.

During our first lunch together in Paris, I alluded to a guy being the reason I left London, and she gave me the best advice I’d received up to that point. ‘The best way to get over one guy, was to get under another.’ And she was right.

France was full of not only beautiful architecture, gorgeous weather, and good food, but delicious men. Before that night in the stables with Declan, I didn’t know what it felt like to be wanted. But after being wined and dined by the Parisian elite, I learned.

I wasn’t the same person I was when I left two years ago. No one forgot me. I forgot them.

“So far, so good,” she nudges my elbow with hers.

I flash her a knowing smile. “We’ll see.”

I had to give it to Sebastian and Logan. Their confidence was admirable and not completely unwarranted. The hedge fund they started was doing well, and at twenty-four years old, were starting to make a name for themselves.

But the group they were about to descend upon didn’t care about names. They were barracudas in the boardroom and trusted few. I knew Sebastian and Logan wouldn’t be walking away with a business card, let alone a meeting.

The two introduce themselves to the group of men with strong jaws and confident smiles, and when they’ve shaken hands with the last of the group, I start counting the seconds in my head.

One minute in, Sebastian tosses his head back and laughs, and Logan follows suit.

“I don’t know, Nev. I think you may have a sizable credit card bill in your future,” Sasha takes a sip of her drink.

I give her my own sly smile and study the group. “I wouldn’t celebrate just yet.”

To an observer, it would appear things were going well. But I’d been trained by a master and knew more about conversation and negotiations than Sebastian and Logan ever would.

Thanks to my father, I’d learned how to understand what a person may be thinking, based on mannerisms and body language alone. For example, one of the men, billionaire philanthropist Grayson Marks, just shoved a hand in his pocket, while lifting his chin. I’d seen my father do it a hundred times and know it means whomever he’s talking to is about to be sent away with their tail between their legs.

One minute I note to myself, as Marks watches Sebastian with slight amusement as he turns to the man on his left and continues talking.

I take all the subtleties into account–a forced cough, the shift of a drink from one hand to the other–and I know Sebastian and Logan are about to strike out.

At one minute and fifty-five seconds, as if on cue, Sebastian and Logan straighten, and a few seconds later, turn and walk away.

“I believe that’s two minutes on the nose my friend.” I tap my glass to Sasha’s and take a celebratory drink.

“Damn,” she pouts, and I relish my win.

“Be careful,” I warn. “Now that you’re back, I see a lot more wins where that came from.”

“Ha, ha,” she laughs dryly. But honestly, I know she’s excited to be home, and I am glad she is, too.

When I first told Sasha I was planning to move back, she sulked for a week, declaring dramatically that Paris would be boring without me. I knew it wasn’t true. She’d managed fine before me, and would no doubt be okay when I was gone.

But when she told me last week she’d made the decision to move back, I was ecstatic. My world was brighter with Sasha in it, and I sometimes wondered how things might have been different that last year at Locksley, had she and I been friends.

Sebastian and Logan catch our attention, and instead of coming back over, point to the terrace. Sasha lifts her chin in acknowledgement then turns to me as they make their way outside.

“Since they’ll be out there licking their wounds for the next hour, how about we pretend I won, and you give me something?”

Leave it to Sasha to try and spin things in her favor. “Such as?” I laugh.

“Well, how about you tell me why this room is full of people my father hasn’t even met, and your apparent ease among them.”

All the students at Locksley knew one another’s family trees better than their own because it dictated their circles. The farther back one’s inherited wealth dated, the bluer their blood, and therefore, more acceptable it was.

Ever since we became friends, Sasha has been curious about the wealth and influence of my family. A question here, comment there. Most of the time I brush it off and deflect the way I’m about to, and I know it drives her crazy.

“My family has been around a long time, and knows a lot of people,” I say casually.

“A lot of people?” Sasha rolls her eyes at the response she’s grown used to. “These aren’t just people, Nev. They’re the global elite. And they’re not here for your family, but you.”

I can tell in the way she says it, she is both envious and impressed. But Sasha can’t help it. It is how she was raised, and money is all she knows.

I always thought it odd–the value mortals place on money and power–because vying for either was an effort in futility.

Their lives were finite, and in the end, neither power nor wealth mattered. While my kind, on the other hand, cared little about each, and yet, both were vital to our survival.

When the Fallen were cast out of Heaven, this world became their tether to existence. However, mankind put it at risk, time and again, and a safeguard was needed to ensure the world survived, so our kind would in turn.

This was one of the main reasons my father created Primordial. He knew the power secrets possessed and used them as currency to neutralize mankind’s power and at the same time, fuel his company’s growth. Destruction, with a purpose–survival.

“It’s like they’re here for royalty,” Sasha scans the room. “Not a welcome home party for a socialite.”

If only Sasha knew the irony in her words. I wasn’t a socialite. But my mother was a queen, and I was heir to not one, but three kingdoms. But that’s not why they were here.

While once upon a time, Luke’s empire also benefited from the secrets my father collected for Primordial, they now helped maintain a more peaceful, and prosperous, status quo, and that’s why they were.

Leaders, dignitaries, and businessmen had come to celebrate what mattered to my parents because of all they had done through their power to ensure our survival, and therefore, the world’s.

Of course, I couldn’t tell Sasha any of this, but it would be easier if I could share this world with her, the way I once had with Declan, Luca, and Kai.

I take a sip of my drink and look over the top of my glass to the other side of the room, finding the three of them deep in conversation. As if feeling my eyes on their backs, Declan turns and looks at me, and my stomach plummets.

I wish I could see him and not feel a spark. Hear his voice and not feel it deep in my core. But I was drawn to him–to all of them–and that pull was undeniable. I felt it tugging at me the moment I entered the great room.

I didn’t just once share this world with them. They were my entire world. Then without explanation, they took it from me, and they had to know what that felt like–to have those you trusted hurt you most of all.

I couldn’t let Declan’s confidence, Luca’s charm, or Kai’s wit, stop me from making them pay. I had to ignore however they made me feel and stay focused.

I take a deep breath and turn back to Sasha, finding her staring at me, with a curious expression on her face.

“What?” I ask innocently.

She taps a long nail against her glass. “What is it with you and those three?”

I lift my glass and take a sip. “Nothing.”

“Oh come on, Nev. You were just staring at them.”

“I was not.”

“Yes,” she insists, “you were.”

“Sasha,” I start to protest, but she shoots me a disbelieving look.

“Come on, Nev. You four were best friends at Locksley and yet, not once in the past two years, have you mentioned them. Then suddenly, here they are. So if you won’t tell me why all these people are here, then tell me what happened between the four of you?”

I’d once asked myself that same question. So many times in fact, I’d grown tired of asking.

“We grew apart after they graduated,” I shrug. “It happens. People change. I mean, look at us. We weren’t friends in school, and now you’re my ride or die.”

“True,” she flashes a beautiful, but expensive smile. “And you’ve got Sebastian, and—”

“I don’t have Sebastian,” I set my empty glass down on the counter with a laugh.

“I saw what happened between you two in Ibiza,” she turns and flags the bartender.

“And?” I smile with gratitude as the bartender comes over, fills my glass of champagne back up, and then takes Sasha’s order.

“Hey, he’s my brother, and I don’t want to know the details. But I’ve got eyes and I know what I saw.”

“And?” I say for a second time as the bartender hands Sasha her drink.

“And…” she takes a sip. “I’m sure those make out sessions on deck, continued below.”

“That depends on who’s below you’re talking about,” I reply with a devious grin.

“Stop,” she holds up a hand and closes her eyes. “I definitely don’t need to hear that.”

I enjoyed making Sasha blush. It didn’t happen often, so when it did, I relished knowing I’d pushed her out of her comfort zone.

“Look,” I savor the champagne’s sweetness as it lingers in my tongue. “We kissed and then some. But long term?” I shake my head. “It’s not like that with us.”

“Does he know that?” She lifts one eyebrow, and I can’t tell if it’s curiosity I detect, or sibling concern.

To appease both, I answer as truthfully as I can. “We both know where the other stands and it’s fine.”

Sebastian was a player. Always had been. Was he arrogant? Sure. Good looking? Totally. But he was great with his hands, and even better with his mouth, and it felt good to be wanted by one of Locksley’s golden boys. Not to mention, he wanted a relationship, about as much as I did, which made things easy.

After our trip to Ibiza, he added his number to my phone and insisted I call should the need arise, and that’s why he was here now.

Declan, Kai, and Luca may not care about me anymore, but they most definitely cared about outsiders, and that’s what Sebastian, Sasha, and Logan were. They hated them when we were at Locksley, and if there was anything that could sweeten my plans for payback, it was the enemy not only being at their gates, but on their turf.

I knew the moment we made our way over, that Declan, Luca, and Kai weren’t pleased by Sebastian’s presence. Three sets of eyes–gray, green, and brown–burned into me. Their anger, penetrating every fiber of my being.

A part of me knew, however, it wasn’t just the thrill of knowing I’d gotten to them, which I was feeling, but being in their orbit again.

The day after my birthday, I headed back to Locksley and stayed as far away from them as possible. They didn’t come to my graduation party, and I made sure to steer clear of them whenever I did come home to visit in the years following. The picture from the SCENE article was the first time I’d seen any of them since the night of my party, and it didn’t do them justice.

There was no denying the three had always been attractive, but the last few years had intensified their looks in a way I didn’t expect. Each possessed a presence that was theirs alone, and I couldn’t deny the way seeing all of them together made me feel.

“Hey,” I clear my throat and watch the bubbles in my champagne. “Why didn’t you tell me that you ran into Luca?”

Sasha removes the cocktail skewer from her drink and sucks the cherry off the end. “Why do you care?”

Even if Declan, Kai, and Luca were no longer in my world, it didn’t mean I wanted them to share theirs with anyone else. Especially not my friend. Wasn’t there some kind of rule or code about that?

“Just…curious,” I shrug.

“Uh-huh,” she drops the skewer back in her drink.

“I mean it. I care about you, and they seem to have lost their integrity.”

“Aw,” she flashes me a saccharin smile. “I care about you, too, doll. But what makes you think I was after his integrity?”

She winks at me and my stomach twists into knots. “Did you two…hook up?”

“A lady never tells,” she smiles coyly.

I don’t need Sasha to answer the question. The grin on her face is all the confirmation I need.

“Wait,” she grabs my arm. “Was he the reason you ran to Paris after graduation?”

“No,” I say a little too quickly.

Her eyes drift over to the three of them. “So you won’t mind if I try for round two? Or go for round one with Kai or Declan? Because those two are—”

Mine.

As the word slams into me, I’m struck by the sudden urge to grab her arm and sink my nails into her flesh.

“You don’t want to do that,” I swallow; my mouth watering at the idea of watching blood trickle down her dainty wrist.

“Fine,” she lifts her drink. “But only because I think I found my next conquest.”

Sasha nods in the direction of a group a couple of feet away

“Ah,” I nod when I see a tall blonde with a chiseled jaw and shoulder length hair staring at her. “That’s Micah.”

She runs the tip of her tongue along her top lip, while pulling her hand from my arm to run it down each side of her sleek bob. “Introduce us?”

I didn’t know him well, but did know he lived in New York City, which Sasha loved, and only came here for the occasional legion event. He was one of the older children sired by the legion, and one of the first to attend Locksley.

He also didn’t like London, which meant he would be leaving when the weekend was over, which was perfect for Sasha. No commitment.

“Of course,” I wave for him to come over.

For the next twenty minutes, Sasha is all charm as she hangs on Micah’s every word. But when my glass runs dry and I notice Sebastian and Logan making their way back inside, I take it as my cue, to get some air.

“I’ll be back in a few,” I whisper in her ear as she fingers the diamond pendant hanging from her neck.

She turns and gives me a dazzling smile. “Is everything okay?”

“Just going to take a breather. Tell them I’ll be back in a bit,” I nod at Sebastian and Logan making their way over to us.

“I will,” she says with little effort.

Seeing her attention firmly on Micah, I turn and make my way out of the great room; humming to myself as I stroll down the hall and make my way to the other side of the estate. This area is off-limits during parties and the perfect place to find some quiet.

I pass the doors to the media room, then my father’s study, continuing until I reach the powder room at the end. Once inside, I close the door and cross the space, standing in front of the vanity and mirror to study my reflection.

Micah may have been an easy distraction for Sasha, but I couldn’t forget about the anger flash that hit me when she mentioned going after the guys. I almost forgot what they felt like, and it was a welcome feeling. As if a part of me that had been absent, finally returned.

James, our family doctor, and my Uncle Vinny’s attendant explained them to me once as the part of my blood that was Hellfire. Surges of anger and heat kept in balance, alongside the parts of me that were driven by my humanity, and ethereal spirit.

I used to have them all the time as a kid, but since I’d been in Paris, they stopped. When I decided to stop trying to unlock the power I possessed, it was as if my body obeyed. I didn’t feel the pull of the three kingdoms, and honestly…it had been nice.

I knew being back here would trigger it, however. It was impossible to be a part of this world and have anything that had to do with power, stay dormant. But I didn’t expect Hellfire to be the one that returned first, or that I would like the way it felt.

Chalking it up to my desire for payback, I check my reflection, then head for the door. As I yank it open, I jump with surprise when I see Declan standing there.

“What are you doing here?” I demand.

“Me?” he asks incredulously; looking just as surprised to see me. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed some air and this—”

“Is the quietest spot in the house,” he finishes my thought. “I know. I grew up here, too, remember?”

Declan knows this estate as well as I do. My hiding places are his. “Well,” I cross my arms. “This room is occupied so you’ll have to find somewhere else.”

He mirrors my stance and locks his eyes on mine. “Is that how it’s going to be?”

“Yup,” I lift my chin. “Pretty much.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he counters.

“Oh, but it does. Remember…you wanted it this way.”

“I never wanted—”

“Stop,” I hold up my hand and his eyes widen. “You may have tried to get me to take a walk down memory lane earlier with the whole, ‘you remember the last time you were here’ bit, but I’m not interested in revisiting the past.”

A lazy smile tugs at his lips and my stomach flips. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” I say firmly. “So leave.”

“The party, or this doorway?”

“Either…both…” I shrug. “I don’t care. Just go.”

He stares at me for a moment, then his face softens. “Why is he here?”

“Why is who here?” I ask, knowing perfectly well who he’s talking about.

Declan leans against the doorframe and takes a deep breath. “Sebastian Crane.”

“What business is it of yours who I invite to my party?”

“Plenty,” he nods confidently.

“Well, you didn’t seem to care who you brought to my last party, so it’s certainly none of your business who I invited to this one.”

“I thought we weren’t taking a walk down memory lane?” he taunts.

I shake my head in frustration. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“He shouldn’t be here, princess.”

“Oh?” I let out a throaty laugh. “And why is that?”

“Well,” he pushes up from the door, and steps into the room, forcing me to take a step back. “For starters, you hated guys like that once. Him, particularly.”

“Well,” I consider that truth. He’s not wrong. I did hate Sebastian, and Sasha, and Logan for that matter. But loneliness and revenge can create strange alliances. “I don’t anymore.”

“Are you serious?”

“Sure,” I smile, enjoying his obvious disbelief. “He’s not so bad.”

“He is. And the other two,” he spits out. “They’re the worst. You hated them just as much as we did at Locksley, and yet now they’re standing next to you like you’re holding court.”

“Every future queen needs a council,” I reply dryly.

“Sure,” he nods. “Just not one with an executioner, court jester, and village idiot.”

I can’t help but smile and when I do, he smiles back. “He shouldn’t be here,” Declan says again, taking another step towards me. “He’s not good for you.”

“I don’t think you should be the judge of who is and isn’t good for me,” I say with candor.

“I will always want what’s best for you.”

“Well, you have a funny way of showing it.”

“He’s not who you think he is,” Declan presses, taking another step.

I cross my arms tighter over my chest, and step back, his proximity making my palms sweat. “And just who do I think he is?”

“Prince Charming. But he’s not. He’s an arrogant asshole who will use you.”

“Well,” I straighten my shoulders. “I’m not looking for Prince Charming. I never believed in fairy tales. And who’s to say I’m not the one using him?”

“Princess…” He starts to reach out for me, then stops himself.

“First, don’t call me that. I’m not your princess. And second, who in the hell do you think you are, telling me who I should or should not be around?”

Declan exhales gruffly and locks his eyes on mine. “I am someone who doesn’t want to see you get hurt.”

I toss my head back and can’t help but laugh. “Didn’t seem to care much about that three years ago.”

“I have always cared.”

“Correction,” I shake my head. “Used to. Past tense.”

“Come on,” he runs a hand through his hair. “He’s a player and he’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” I lift a skeptical brow. Sebastian Crane was hardly dangerous.

“Yes!” Declan throws his hands up. “He’s the kind of guy that will—”

“That will, what?” I ask, eyes narrowing. “Get what he wants and then leave me?”

He looks at me, eyes searching mine. “Is that what tonight’s about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I turn my head.

“I remember every second of that night.” He grabs my chin and pulls my face back towards him gently. “And it’s like you’re trying to recreate it with the food and the music…and that dress.” His eyes drift down my body, then back up. “It’s not the same, but the color is. It’s like you’re trying to fuck with our heads.”

He’s right. I am. I wanted to fuck with their heads, the way they did with my heart that night. Especially Declan’s.

I lift my chin, not wanting him to see that he’s right. “Why does Sebastian’s presence bother you so much?”

“Because…” he says stubbornly, taking a step towards me.

“Because, is not an answer,” I counter and take a step back.

“He leaves,” Declan says, taking another step towards me.

I take another step back, but when I do, I feel the wall behind me. “Why do you care if he’s here or not?”

He places one hand on the wall next to my head and leans in. “Because I want you safe, princess. That is all I have ever wanted.”

“Well,” I draw in a sharp breath, his nearness making it hard to breathe. “You lost that right.”

“I will always have that right,” he says, possessively.

“Oh yeah,” I place a hand on his chest, and his eyes flash, and muscles constrict.

“Yes,” he says softly, running his nose along the ridge of my jaw.

“Well,” I draw in a shaky breath, feeling his breath on my lips. “Like I said, you lost that right…the night you fucked, then left me.”