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It was cowardice, he knew, but cowardice came so much easier than hope.
And this time, Holland didn’t try to surface. This time, he let himself drown.
Do you know what makes you weak? You’ve never had to be strong. You’ve certainly never had to fight for your life.
“Life isn’t made of choices,” said Holland. “It’s made of trades. Some are good, some are bad, but they all have a cost.”
You wanted him to kill for me, die for me, protect me at all costs. Well, Mother, you got your wish. You simply failed to realize that that kind of love, that bond, it goes both ways. I would kill for him, and I would die for him, and I will protect him however I am able, from Faro and Vesk, from White London, and Black London, and from you.”
Lila had always thought of secrets like gold coins. They could be hoarded, or put to use, but once you spent them, or lost them, it was a beast to get your hands on more. Because of that, she’d always guarded her secrets, prized them above any take.
“Do you truly believe that he’s a god?” Holland rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what someone is. Only what they think they are.”
“My life is yours,” said Rhy softly, thoughtfully. “And yours is mine.” He looked up. “It makes sense.”
Her hands were bandaged, a deep scratch ran along her jaw, and Rhy watched his brother move toward her as naturally as if the world had simply tipped. For Kell, apparently, it had.
Because caring was a thing with claws. It sank them in, and didn’t let go. Caring hurt more than a knife to the leg, more than a few broken ribs, more than anything that bled or broke and healed again. Caring didn’t break you clean. It was a bone that didn’t set, a cut that wouldn’t close.
Talya looked at him then with such surprise and indignation, as if she’d thought he’d let her kill him. As if she’d thought he’d simply surrender. “Sorry,
am not a toy anymore. I am not a foolish youth.” He forced the waver from his words. “I am the crown prince of Arnes. The future king of this empire. And if you want another audience with me, a chance to explain yourself, then you must earn it.
“Do you ever get tired of running, Bard?” She cocked her head. “No.” Alucard’s gaze went to the horizon. “Then you haven’t left enough behind.”
Stay with me. Holland leaned against the alley wall, suddenly tired. Stay with me. He closed his eyes, memories rising like bile in his throat. Stay with me.
“Love and loss,” he said, “are like a ship and the sea. They rise together. The more we love, the more we have to lose. But the only way to avoid loss is to avoid love. And what a sad world that would be.”
“Picking out a gift?” asked the captain. “No.” “Good, then take this.” He dropped a ring into Kell’s hand. Kell frowned. “I’m flattered, but I think you’re asking the wrong brother.”
“This is why I drink.”
“I’ve got a bad feeling,” he whispered now, looking out to sea. The water was calm, the skies were clear, but there was a weight in his chest like a breath held too long. “Lenos.” Alucard chuckled thinly and got to his feet. “A piece of magic is parading as a god, a poisoned fog is destroying London, and three Antari are sparring aboard our ship,” said the captain. “I’d be worried if you didn’t.”
Hastra, who made things grow, who would have been a priest, who could have been anything he wanted and chose to be a guard, Kell’s guard—staggered, and fell.
Even magic had its limits.
Only then did the pain come, folding over him with such sudden force, such horrible weight, that he clutched his chest and began to scream.
“I am alive because my brother is strong,” he said coldly. “You are alive only because yours is dead.”
People spoke of love as if it were an arrow. A thing that flew quick, and always found its mark. They spoke of it as if it were a pleasant thing, but Maxim had taken an arrow once, and knew it for what it was: excruciating.
He didn’t look back, not at the steel guard marching in his wake, not at his son’s face, the eyes so like Emira’s, now red with anguish. “Please,” begged Rhy. “Please, let me go.…” They were the last words Maxim heard before the palace doors fell shut.
I am the king of Arnes. And I am unbreakable.
“Besides,” he added, managing a smile, “who doesn’t love a man with shadows? Who doesn’t want a king with scars?” “Oh, yes,” said Kell dryly. “That’s really the reason I did it. To make you more appealing.”
