Betrothed to My Mother’s Killer

Buried Secrets pt2

This time, Darcy’s door was already open. Darcy watched us like he’d been expecting us. No banging. No pleading needed this time.

Darcy stood inside, holding the door as I carried Eric in, like he weighed no more than a load of laundry, still wrapped in the magical blanket.

“Took you long enough,” he said lightly. “Very inconvenient, near-death situations. Bad for scheduling.”

“Move,” I snapped. I pushed past him, Katie on my heels. And then we both stopped.

Books.

Floor to ceiling.

Shelves twisted in impossible directions, stacked with leather-bound volumes and glowing titles that shifted when I tried to focus on them. The pages rustled softly, as if alive, wanting to share their secrets.

Katie leaned in. “… Okay,” she whispered. “It was a watch shop. Then shoes. Now books. Do you think he would make me a jewelry shop next?”

Darcy waved a hand dismissively.

“Atmosphere,” he said. “One must curate the experience.”

“I don’t care about your experience,” I snapped. “He’s dying.”

Darcy studied me. Then nodded once. “Upstairs.”

A narrow staircase revealed itself between the shelves, one I swear hadn’t been there a second ago.

We climbed. The room above was quieter. A tastefully decorated one-room apartment that looked like a grandma had decorated it centuries ago, but even the old-fashioned furniture has a calm about it.

A couch sat in the center. I laid Eric down carefully. He was too still, too pale.

My hands were already moving, yanking at the hideous quills left in his back, breaking shafts in my haste, trying not to think about how deep they had gone.

Darcy appeared beside me with a small bag. I turned in shock and looked down at the bag. Dark red.

“Don’t worry, it’s fresh,” he said, handing it to Katie across from me.

She took it without hesitation, giving him a smile of gratitude to not be stuck uselessly watching anymore.

“Good,” she said. “Because I am NOT doing CPR on a vampire.”

Darcy’s eyes twinkled as he smiled at Katie, “Oh, you are delightful.”

Katie grinned as she flipped a strand of her blond hair over her shoulder. “I try.”

“Careful,” he murmured. “Compliments from me tend to cost something.”

She tilted her head. “Good thing I like expensive things.”

Darcy’s eyes lit. “Oh, I really like you.”

“Focus,” I snapped, yanking another arrowhead free. Eric's body jerked at the force, then slammed back down lifeless. Didn’t react. Didn’t breathe.

“Give him blood,” I ordered.

Katie nodded, already working the bag open.

Darcy’s hand shot out, stopping me. “Not yours.”

I stilled. “What?”

“Do not give him your blood,” Darcy said, suddenly serious. “Not unless you both intend the consequences.”

I shook him off. I was already reaching for the next arrow. “Katie.”

“Blood now!”

“Ruby,” Katie said softly. “What do we do after this?” The question hit harder than anything else.

I swallowed, my hands barely pausing.

“I was supposed to go to my father’s court,” I said. “On my birthday. I think it had something to do with the betrothal.”

The room went silent except for the squishing sound of Eric’s blood as I dug out another silver arrowhead.

“Yesterday,” Katie whispered as she began dripping the blood into Eric’s mouth.

I nodded, feeling the sting in my eyes, and I fought the urge to cry, the urge to weep over the chance of being bonded with this man who was dying in front of me. The man I hated all my life.

Darcy went very still. Then stomped his foot, annoyed. “Oh, not again.”

I looked up. “What?”

“You’re lying,” he said.

“I’m not...”

“You are,” he snapped. “And it’s getting tiresome.”

Katie frowned as she looked up at Darcy. “Wait—what do you mean?”

Darcy crossed his arms. “Her birthday was not yesterday.”

My stomach dropped. “That’s impossible.”

The last drop of blood passed Eric’s lips, but nothing changed. Katie wiped her hands on her jeans and began digging through my bag.

“Hold on, hold on...”

She pulled out the birth certificate. My real birth certificate. Unfolded it. Read it.

Then blinked. “Huh…”

My chest tightened. “Katie?”

She looked up slowly. “It says June twenty-third.”

The room tilted.

“That’s not my...” I shook my head. “No, it’s always been the….”

“Third,” Katie finished. “Yeah. I know. I have been to every single one of your birthday parties since fifth grade.”

Darcy smiled. Triumphant. “I am,” he said smugly, “as always, correct.”

I stared at the paper. At the number. At the lie I had lived my entire life.

“I’m not too late,” I whispered and looked at Eric. “You just need to live.”

Darcy broke my train of thought as he stated, “You’re just running out of time.”

My breath caught. “What does that mean?”

Darcy didn’t answer. Of course, he didn’t.

Instead, he turned to Katie.

“Now,” he said smoothly, “about our arrangement.”

Katie straightened. A sly smile crept on her lips. “Oh, we’re doing this now?”

“Oh yes,” Darcy said. “I find urgency sharpens negotiation.”

She glanced at me. I wasn’t sure which of them I should feel sorry for. Katie was the prettiest and smartest girl in school. I never could figure out why she hung out with me.

“Fine,” she said. “Let’s talk.”

Darcy offered her his arm. “Privately.”

Katie gave me a private wink as she stood and took it.

They disappeared down the stairs. Leaving me alone with Eric.

And all I could hear

Was time

Running out.