The Gold Crown (Golden Crown #3)

The Gold Crown

Rue Volley

Copyright of Rue Volley 2013

All rights reserved

The right of Rue Volley to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

Published by Hot Ink Press

Cover by Rue Volley for Vivid Book Designs

Thank you for taking this journey with me.

xoxo

Preparing a body for burial was not something I ever had any interest in, until my Mother died. It was then that I found it to be something I needed to understand. From what I read they have to basically prep you, taking things and replacing them. Sewing areas shut and then dusting up and painting until they made the shell that left behind look familiar. She did not - look familiar that is - in any way. Her hair was styled differently, her nails painted a strange color and her clothing had color to it, she was in red. Her lips painted to match and it confused me. She wore white, always white and nothing else. I guess if I had been able to think clearly I would have asked my father why. Why he had her changed from what we saw of her daily. I swear it was almost as if he was mocking her and perhaps me too. She had been prepared and placed in our home. I still remember the stillness in the air all around me and the separation of mind. I had to do that, I had to separate my feelings that day. It was, ironically enough, where I learned to be who I am now. Her death and the acceptance of it caused changes in me that are hard to explain to anyone.

I know I have mentioned that I found her. What I did not mention is that I sat with her for an hour before anyone came to retrieve her body. I sat on the floor next to the tub and held her hand. It may have seemed awkward but to me it felt normal. It felt like someone needed to guide her because quite honestly I have no fucking idea what waits on the other side. I know many believe in Heaven and Hell. I believe in flesh and spirit. I believe that we pass on to something more but to be judged? I am not at all convinced. I came to this conclusion the day we buried her. I mean if Hell was real and Satan had the power of revenge, then my father would have dropped dead and been sealed in the tomb along with her. I know she would have asked Satan to do this for her, or God or whatever. My mother hated him, so much so she passed it on to me. This made it easier when we buried him. I never cried that day, not one tear, in fact as they placed him in our family’s mausoleum I grinned under my black veil. I hoped like hell that my mother was standing on the other side and just waiting for him, waiting to make him suffer for an eternity.

I then heard wailing and raised my head as Molly stood over her only son’s casket, that of Zane Renew. I stared at her contorted face and felt my heart sink; her pain was one that I knew all too well. I felt a hand to my back and glanced up at Mani. He is an amazing man, doing anything I ask of him and even things that I do not. Then I let my eyes wander to Zoey, who was staring at me. I swallowed as her eyes looked dark and emotionless. I guess if I were her I would transfer my hatred to any Bittermend that I could. In fact I had strong reservations about coming but my heart would not allow me to ignore this. No one else could be here to say “I am sorry” and whether I actually said the words or not I could only hope that they knew that I was, I am very sorry for their loss and even more heartbroken over my own.

The rain started to come down in large droplets at first and then as it became steadier Mani popped a large black umbrella over the two of us and many more opened up, holding back the cry from the heavens. Why it seems to rain at every funeral is a mystery to me, some believe it is the heavens opening their gates up to the ones escaping this earth. But me? I think it is just a storm and with it always comes the warning of what will come. I then blinked as I heard the first thump and looked down at my feet to see a black bird lying there, then another dropped from the sky and then they became like the rain. People cried out and ran to their cars as I stood there and watched Molly scream towards the heavens. The final bird fell on Zane’s casket and twitched until it finally took its last breath. She fell to her knees in mud and Zoey beside her. Mani grabbed my arm and started to pull me away but the look on their faces would haunt me forever and perhaps it was a warning of what was to come…

Chapter One

Bad Blood

I stared at our family tomb as I sat on the bench in front of it and tried my best to
not
cry. Crying was not something I had ever done before, but it was starting to become a habit and not a pretty one. I took a deep breath under my black veil and composed myself. It had only been 8 weeks and yet I still felt a deep ache in my heart for the loss. I had lost…so had others and I was not happy. In fact happiness seemed to be something I would forever be denied. I looked down at my feet and saw the mud on my shoes. It had been raining for days and the graveyard was a mess to walk through. I didn’t care though. Things seem so meaningless, so fucking void of anything. I then saw the cane before the black shoes come into view and I looked up to see him, leaning on it with two hands and staring at me. I lifted my veil and he decided to sit down next to me. I glanced at his coat, then his tie and then I turned to face him.

“This cannot be healthy.”

I hesitated and then decided to finally talk; I had given it up so the sound of my voice almost seemed foreign to my ears.

“I don’t think I deserve to be healthy, do you, Ryan?” I said and he paused and then turned towards the tomb and stared at it.

“Do not bury me here Beth. I would rather be left out to rot than lay by your father’s side.”

“Seriously Ryan? We will never die, that is our fate,” I said as I stood up and walked to the tomb. I stood there and reached out to touch the plaque with the names added to it. Plenty of room left and yet I knew I would never be added to it and neither would Ryan. I was sure that Father would reach back from the grave and make it impossible. If not, I would do it myself. Mother lay in the tomb, resolved to ash as our family is destined to become. I sighed as Ryan stepped up next to me and stared at the plaque to. I touched it with my fingertips and held back the tide of tears that wanted to consume me. So much grief plagued us; I could not help but think a curse would forever remain on us all.

“We should be going Beth,” he said and I nodded as he took my arm and I walked with him. He was now softer, a bit more like the child he had once been. The injury Cas had inflicted on him would eventually cripple him, or so the doctors had said. Truth be told I think Ryan is just enough of a bastard to shrug off that diagnosis but you never can tell the future, not fully…although I wish that I could. Cas had stabbed him so deeply he nicked his spine. Just a bit more and walking would not be possible. I guess we can be thankful for that, even though the rest sort of buries it all.

I stepped up to the car and our driver opened the door as I looked back at the graveyard. I don’t know when I would come again, I had been here too often the past few weeks and I think a break is needed. I think I need to focus on living and stop pretending I am already buried alongside everyone here…everyone else including Zane Renew. That alone was a tragedy. I stopped and looked back as the memory of Molly and Zoey staring at me sent a chill through my body. Their pain was known to me, and even weeks later I still felt it. I slid into the car and leaned back into the soft black leather as Ryan slid in on the other side and faced me on the opposite corner. I looked down at my hands and stared at the ruby on my finger. I had placed it back on my hand after everything had happened. Ryan never said a word about it but he knew as I did that my freedom, or want of it, was fading. I am a Bittermend, I will always be one and I will always own the bad blood that courses through my veins. Like I have said before, you should own what and who you are. Be it considered evil or not, you are as much as you can be with what you are handed.

“I want to see him,” I said quietly as Ryan nodded to me and tapped on the window separating us from our driver. He leaned and whispered to him as I looked back at the tomb. I hate it here and yet it is only here that I truly feel at home.

****

I stood in the doorway, lifting a cigarette and lighting it slowly as the smoke filled my lungs and slowly killed me, as I knew it would. I let the smoke roll from my lips and flipped the top of my pure silver lighter shut. Ryan stepped up next to me and stared through the glass as I did.

There he sat, wrapped up like a demon in white, alone in a chair placed in the center of the room. It almost seemed as if he was on display like some animal in a zoo. His arms were strapped to the chair as well as his ankles. I turned as the doctor stepped up and tapped on the glass. There was no reaction, there never was. Should I be grateful? To what and whom should I send the fucking thank you card?

“Mrs. Bittermend.” The doctor said, as he nodded to me and then to Ryan. I sighed and looked in to see my son, transformed into something hideous and misunderstood. I know he is a beast and yet my love for him will never fade. If anything, I understand loyalty. I understood that Cas had found out about his true mother and I can only imagine what it did to him. I mean, I found it hard enough to live with my parents knowing they truly had me, I would never know what it felt like to him as he stood there that night and stared at me, his eyes looking glazed and filled with pain. I knew I had hurt him more than he could bear, and at this point his silence is a blessing in disguise. I had hid the skull and the necklace. Buried deep and yet here they sit in front of me in the form of Cassius Bittermend. A boy I raised as my own, a boy who trusted me and called me Mommy. My heart breaks for him as it does for me. If he had died, well then at least I could visit him and speak, hoping he would hear me, but in this state he will neither see me nor hear my voice again. I reached up and touched glass as it felt cold and unyielding, just like my heart was becoming. A wilderness filled with regret. His voice echoed in mind as he called out to me from the past, screaming that I was God to a child. I sighed and wiped a tear that rolled down my cheek.

“Has he said anything yet?” Ryan said and the Doctor looked at his clipboard and then attempted to look optimistic.

“Cas has had a psychotic break. His mind is wandering and retrieving it may take time,” he said as I looked in at him all alone and trapped. It made me long to run in and talk to him, touch his hair and have him sit at my feet and watch me closely. It is funny how such simple things become so important when they are stripped from you.

“Is that what they call it?” I muttered as I took another drag of my cigarette and let the smoke roll from my lips yet again.

“I will remind you that this is the only thing keeping him alive.” The doctor said as Ryan turned to him and looked a bit aggravated.

“Cas is not a killer, this was stress and an overdose.”

“He killed a boy, from what I see…his lover?” the doctor said and I closed my eyes and then turned to him.

“He is gay, and?” I said and the doctor shook his head.

“I am not being judgmental at all but as you know society is not fully comfortable with homosexual activity, it seems they are accepting of females, but males tend to have it much harder.”

Ryan laughed and walked to the glass and stared at him.

“People are closed minded and ignorant,” he said and I touched his arm and then walked to the doctor.

“So what is the plan then?” I asked him and he stared at Cas.

“For his sake, and I do not mean to be negative or rude, it would be best if he never speaks again to face trial.”

I turned as Ryan leaned on his cane and for the first time in a long time, I felt for him as he stared at his son, one who had tried to kill him for obvious reasons. That night I had grabbed the necklace from Cas’s hand, and the skull had rolled to the corner of the room, under the chair. If nothing else, self-preservation is a gift we have, surviving the most heinous of things. I hid these things before the police arrived. It may have been possible to treat this as we did with Father and Miko, but with a dead boy in the house, Ryan bleeding to death as well as August and Cas lying at my feet I made the only choice I could and called for help. I knew it was a gamble, I knew Cas may wake up and tell them everything but with a twist of fate he had remained quiet and with it he had become a breathing tomb of the truth we so feared.