Page 1 of Lady of Darkness
PROLOGUE
Alaric
Fourteen Years Ago
I leanagainst the brick wall of Cross Manor, taking a drag of my cigarette as people in black pass me by. Black suits, black dresses, black fascinators, my house is awash in a sea of black. A few of the funeral attendees stop and offer their condolences, but it doesn’t feel genuine. Their pitying smiles are fake. The way their hands grasp mine tightly, patting gently–all fake. When your family is as notorious as mine, people tend to be afraid, to keep their distance. Their words are as insincere as their simpering smiles, and I hate them all for it. They’re only here because the circumstances surrounding my father’s death are making people morbidly curious.
A gas leak.
As if a gas leak could take down one of the most powerful and cruelest men in England.
Tempest Cross is his name–washis name.
People revered him, and subsequently, me. It was just the two of us after my mother took her own life seven years ago, and I’d lived those years in fear of the man being buried today.
I was glad he was dead, because it meant I could focus on starting my own business after university.
It meant that my real life could start without the hovering scowl of disapproval.
Pushing off the wall, I stub the cigarette out with my dress shoe. The wake is over, and the committal is just wrapping up. I spy Gideon St. Claire, Sterling Beauchamp, and Theodore Wolf near the back. I don’t know them well, though we all went to school together and our fathers were close. This is the fourth funeral in five days. Our fathers passed away in the same accident, and the entire country is abuzz with gossip. I give them all a sincere smile before finding my way to Cecelia Crawford, the daughter of one of my father’s biggest rivals, though I couldn’t tell you why. He hated the Crawfords for reasons unknown. Her family lives in the Cotswolds, and she’s a few months younger than me. She’s pretty, but she’s not my type. Her parents stand next to her, along with Charles Blackwell on her other side. I feel the eyes of Charles boring into the back of my skull.
Twisting around to look at him, he smiles sympathetically.
I don’t like him, nor do I trust him.
I’m not exactly sure what kind of bullshit my dad was wrapped up in, but I know it involved Charles–and Cecelia’s family.
I shift uncomfortably as the committal finally ends, and people begin to scatter. Mary, my housekeeper, offered to host a celebration of life party at Cross Manor after the funeral, but I declined. The manor was mine now. As the Lord of the house, the last thing I wanted was people snooping aroundmyhome. I wanted peace and quiet. I wanted my own space, to find myself outside of my father’s tight grip. I had dreams and aspirations, and nothing was going to stand in my way now.
Once everyone is gone, I head inside, where Mary is talking with Charles Blackwell.
What the hell is he still doing here?
Gideon, Sterling, and Theodore are all sitting at the dining room table, looking just as confused as I feel.
“Can I help you with something?” I ask Charles.
What Ireallywant is for people to leave me the fuck alone.
Mary quickly disappears into the kitchen, and Charles turns around to face me. He’s ten years older than the four of us, but you’d never guess it by looking at him. He’s tall, fit, and clean shaven.
A snake in a suit.
He grabs five glasses from the bar, setting one down in front of each of us.
God, if this is some kind of heroic gesture now that we’re all fatherless, I’m going to be sick.
I stay standing, unsure of what this is all about. Pouring us each a finger of whiskey, he gestures for me to sit. Narrowing my eyes as I do, I wait impatiently for the bullshit. Because that’s all this is. Every single person, all of the pomp and circumstance in this whole damn community is afarce.I couldn’t wait to be free of it.
I glance at the others, but they all seem as uncomfortable as me.
“Boys,” Charles says, taking a sip of whiskey. We all do the same, and I try not to wince as it burns going down my throat. “Or shall I say… men.” None of us says anything, and he just chuckles. “It’s the dawn of a new era. You’re all the Lords of your houses–the five most noble houses in England.” Charles’s dark blue eyes pin me to the spot. “Your fathers are dead, which means you are the new heirs to your estates.”
“And what does that mean?” Gideon snaps, leaning forward. “Is there a reason you’re telling us this while Tempest Cross is still warm in the ground?”
I’ve always liked Gideon. He gives zero shits. A small part of me wishes I could be more like him.
Charles swirls his whiskey and finishes it, setting the glass down. “You have so much to learn, and so little time to learn it.”
