River was a danger, both to herself and to others. Like an out-of-control wildfire, she needed to be contained by any means necessary.
She silently begged her brother to understand.
Ryker groaned, raking his hands through his hair. “Okay,” he said, more to himself than her, she thought. “Okay, you’ll keep them on for now.”
Ryker made it sound as if her wearing the prohiberis was temporary, but River wasn’t sure that would be the case. Right now, with the clouds hanging over her, it felt like keeping them on forever would be the only way forward.
She kept those thoughts to herself, though. There was no point burdening Ryker with yet another problem. Not when he’d already done so much for her.
Releasing the steering wheel, Ryker sighed.
“We got a room ready for you. It’s yours for as long as you need. After…” He swallowed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “When I got back, I called the hospital and talked to your boss. They’re giving you bereavement leave, and your job will be waiting for you when you’re ready to return.”
“Thank you,” River murmured. “You didn’t have to do that, but it means a lot.”
Yet again, Ryker was proving that he was the stronger sibling. The one who truly embodied what it meant to be a Waterborn.
Unlike River.
Words, which had already been difficult to come by, suddenly felt impossibly heavy. River didn’t have the energy to deal with them right now.
She didn’t have the energy to deal with much at all.
They got out of the car, silence swelling between them, and Ryker fished the house key out of his pocket. He unlocked the door and held it open for River. She slipped inside, taking off her shoes and leaving them in the entryway.
The hardwood was cool beneath her socked feet, but she barely noticed as she padded inside her brother’s home.
The farmhouse was over a century old, but Ryker and Brynleigh had redone it before they moved in. The comfortable yet chic style and open-floor plan fit them perfectly. Nice to look at, but not overly expensive or pretentious. The home had a lived-in appeal that Waterborn House had never had. The windows, tinted darker than most, were sun-safe for Brynleigh.
Photographs of Ryker and Brynleigh’s wedding and bonding days hung on the walls alongside casual pictures of the pair and their dog, Marlowe. It was a home, through and through. As River navigated around the couches and headed for the kitchen, the clouds around her parted. Just for a moment.
Brynleigh was leaning against the large rectangular island in the kitchen. Her wings, black and smooth like a bat’s, were flared behind her. Her blonde hair was in a ponytail, and she wore a forest green sweater and black leggings. She was the picture of comfort as she flipped through the pages of a magazine, sipping something red out of a glass. Knowing the vampire, it was probably blood-wine.
The moment Brynleigh saw River, she put down the glass and glided across the floor. Like all vampire-kind, Brynleigh had a too-beautiful-to-be-real quality about her that drew the eye. It was as if she’d been carved from stone when she’d been Made. Every part of her was perfect.
“Isvana have mercy on you.” Pity shone in Brynleigh’s black eyes as she called upon the vampires’ goddess of the moon. “I’m so sorry for your loss, River. Your father was a great man.”
River’s tear ducts were workingagain. Gods help her, how many more times would she cry today? All of a sudden, everything about this day felt like too much. She was too exhausted for this. The clouds were too dark. The fog was too dense.
River stumbled through the motions of hugging her sister-in-law and thanking her for her condolences, but she felt detached. As if she were merely spectating someone else living her life.
Gods, River was ready for this day to end.
As if Brynleigh knew exactly what was going on in her mind, she put an arm around her and led her up the stairs to a room at the end of the hall.
Ryker followed, or so River thought, but she couldn’t be sure. She was pretty sure they told her to get as much rest as she needed, and they’d talk more when she woke up, but everything was foggy.
River drew the blanket over herself. She curled into a ball, and she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
CHAPTER 6
Disarray, Thoughts, and Danger
Nikhail was meant to be working.
For all intents and purposes, hewasworking. Or at least, that was how it would appear to anyone who walked by the office he’d temporarily claimed as his. It was small, but he didn’t need much space to work.
Nikhail was sitting at the desk, in front of his laptop. Instead of combing through security reports about the latest rebel attacks, which was what he was meant to be doing, he was staring blankly at his computer screen. He had a file pulled up, but all the words were blurring together. He could’ve been reading a grocery list, for all he knew.