Blood Legacy: Heir to the Throne (7 page)

BOOK: Blood Legacy: Heir to the Throne
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Jason could not hide his disappointment.

“And Drake?”

“He is with Ryan as well.”

This statement took all of the wind went out of his sails. As Susan approached, she could see the disappointment on her son’s face. That meant Ryan was not here. She tried to hide her own disappointment.

Edward stared at the young woman, enchanted. The transformation in her had been remarkable. She had been a lovely young lady before, now she was stunning. There was high color in her cheeks, and Edward realized she was blushing because he was staring. He bowed low, offering his hand.

“Welcome back, Dr. Ryerson. And may I congratulate you on the success of your Change.”

Susan took his hand, still unused to the slight shock she received when touching Ryan’s Kind.

Her Kind, she reminded herself. Her Kind.

Edward examined her carefully. “You definitely bear Marilyn’s mark.”

Susan fully blushed now. She was not certain that was a good thing. Ryan had chosen her mentor, and specifically chosen one from Marilyn’s line. Susan was not exactly sure why, although Marilyn was extremely powerful.

“Speaking of which,” Edward continued, “Marilyn is here, and Abigail as well.”

A wave of anxiety swept over Susan, feelings she tried to hide unsuccessfully. She would have to get used to this inability to hide anything. When she had interacted with the Others as a human, they knew much of what she thought and felt. Now they knew everything, and she felt positively transparent.

Edward felt sorry for the young doctor. Most Young Ones would never have to deal with what she would soon face. Then again, he thought, most Young Ones would never call Ryan Alexander a friend, so the reward far outweighed the penalty. He gestured for them to enter.

“I have prepared your usual quarters in the southern wing,” Edward said, “you and master Jason have adjoining suites.”

Susan felt relief wash over her. She was staying in the same wing as Ryan, who liked to sit upon the balconies watching both the sunrise and sunset from the unobstructed views. Edward could sense her unasked question, and answered in a lowered tone.

“Abigail is in the east wing, and Marilyn in the west.”

Susan put her hand on the older man’s arm. “Thank you, Edward,” she said, truly grateful.

He patted her hand. “Do not mention it.”

Susan settled into her familiar quarters, pleased to see her computer and all of her research exactly as she had left it. Well, not exactly. She could tell the staff had been in here tidying up. She changed clothes, feeling oddly as if she were home. She glanced out the window. Jason was heading across the yard toward the stables. He would probably wait there all day until Ryan returned.

Susan folded her sweater. Jason had worshipped Ryan from the very day they had met, and Ryan, as imposing a figure as she could be, was remarkably gentle with the boy. Susan smiled. She remembered when Jason had asked Ryan to be her dad. Ryan had been slightly bemused until Jason explained to her with a child’s logic that he already had a mom.

A strange look passed over Susan’s features as a jolt of electricity traveled through her. She found herself sharply exhaling out of habit. The electricity did not seem to fade, however, but rather seemed to grow, creating a pulsating heaviness in her that was not without pleasure.

“What now?” Susan murmured aloud.

The feeling grew, and Susan tried to suppress her concern because she realized what the source of energy was.

It was an Old One. A very Old One.

The air around her seemed to hum, filled with the power of the One approaching. Susan tried to assess the experience clinically, but was having difficulty because the feeling was intensely pleasurable and intensely terrifying. It was a primitive, instinctive response, as if some ancient, untapped part of her brain were springing to life. Or, she thought to herself, some entirely new, untapped part of her brain.

The feeling built to a crescendo until it was nearly unbearable, and it grew even more so as the doors opened.

Abigail stepped into the room, and although Susan had seen her many times, she realized she had never truly seen her before.

Her cool gaze rested upon Susan and Susan felt it penetrate to the deepest part of her soul, to every cell of her body. Abigail gracefully settled into the settee before Susan, examining the red-haired woman.

She continued to examine her at some length and then spoke at last. “So you are now of Marilyn’s line.”

Susan blushed. She knew Marilyn had given Raphael her blood prior to Changing Susan, and it was apparent Abigail knew it as well. A slight smile flickered about Abigail’s lips as she casually continued. “I am surprised her offspring did not kill you in the act.”

Susan’s chagrin deepened. Raphael had nearly done so and had barely regained his self-control in time to keep Susan from dying. Abigail’s slight smile increased.

“I trust you are now well, Dr. Ryerson?”

Susan nodded, finding it difficult to speak. Being near this woman brought a level of discomfort that was hard to fathom. It was as if every nerve-ending in Susan’s body were firing simultaneously, creating a sensory overload that was both enjoyable and extremely discomfiting. Susan had experienced a much milder form, having been around Raphael and his companions, and she was already having difficulty dealing with the dark desire that would uncoil so frequently and at the most inopportune times. Being around Abigail amplified that feeling exponentially, making Susan feel completely out-of-control.

Susan glanced down, forcing the clinical scientist in her to come forth. She tapped into the cold, hard, factual part of her, relying on years of discipline and empirical truth. This was nothing more than a physical manifestation of her new, extraordinary senses, and she could command them with the same iron will and intellect that had mastered her human desires for so many years.

Abigail was entertained by the doctor’s struggle, knowing it was about to get much worse. Susan, with her new, untried abilities sensed this subtle shift in Abigail’s demeanor, but was unable to interpret it. Abigail saved her the trouble, however, by giving a slight nod rearward, and Susan followed the glance.

Ryan stood in the doorway.

Abigail smiled, feeling the shock of the young woman across from her. To have known Ryan as a human companion was quite different from knowing her as one of their Kind.

Ryan stared at Susan. She had changed remarkably, in ways both subtle and not. She had always been beautiful, with titian hair and blue-green eyes, but now there was a luminance about her that reminded Ryan disturbingly of Marilyn. Although Susan had always been slender, her cheekbones were now pronounced, as were her faultless lips. She was extremely attractive, even for one of their Kind, and Ryan noted it was good that Susan was under her protection. Otherwise Susan probably would not survive her youth, so often did desire translate to death in their Kind.

Ryan approached, and Susan was held captive by the casual examination that burned through her. It was a surreal experience, as if someone she had known for years was now someone she did not know at all. The power that flowed outward from Ryan was staggering, and Susan could see it even with her infantile preternatural eyes. The magnetism that had manifested itself as mere charisma when Susan had been human now manifested itself as the elemental physical force it actually was.

Abigail watched the silent exchange with amusement, forever entertained by the interaction of their Kind. Ryan sensed Abigail’s thoughts and her subtle torture of Susan. She turned to Abigail, holding her gaze for a moment, then allowed her eyes to drift downward to her décolleté, the pale white skin above the breast which Ryan often fed from. The insolent act had the desired effect. Outwardly, Abigail revealed nothing, but inwardly was completely aroused.

The girl would pay for that later.

Ryan turned back to Susan.

“I apologize for my absence.” Ryan said, “I was not expecting you today and returned as soon as I heard word of your arrival.” Ryan held out her hand.

Susan hesitated. The air of sensuality between Abigail and Ryan was almost unbearable, creating longing that rippled outward, catching everything that could sense it in its wake. Against her better judgment, she took the hand.

It was like grasping a hold of lightning, or what she imagined lighting would feel like. It shot through her arm up into her brain, back down through her spinal column and out every extremity and pore of her body. Ryan held the hand, as if she, too, were assessing the experience. She finally released it, and Susan felt the loss intensely.

“You bear Marilyn’s mark,” Ryan said. She then frowned slightly. “I have yet to determine if that is a good thing, even after centuries.”

“You did make that decision, my dear,” Abigail reminded her.

“Hmm,” Ryan said thoughtfully, eyeing Susan, “yes, I did.” She examined Susan far more clinically, and Susan imagined this is what a bug under a microscope felt like. “You are well?”

Susan nodded. “Yes, I am fine.” She tried to appear businesslike. “I am looking forward to getting back to my research.”

“There is time enough for that. Please feel free to get settled.”

Susan glanced at Abigail, then back at Ryan. “Where is Drake?”

Ryan shifted uncomfortably, and she could feel Abigail’s unblinking gaze on her. It would not sit well with her that Susan had known about her son first.

“He is in the yard with Jason, playing”

Ryan stole a glance at Abigail, who spoke to her mentally.

You will pay for that as well.

Susan moved to the window where she could see the two boys. Although Jason was always gentle with Drake, she was concerned.

“Are you sure they are alright? Drake is still so small.”

Ryan smiled, watching the two boys play below. “Drake is already nearly indestructible.”

Susan turned to her, an eyebrow raised. “I’m not certain I want to know how you know that.”

Ryan cleared her throat uncomfortably. There had been a few mishaps.

“I am certain Edward is no more than a few feet away, he is quite devoted to the boy.” Ryan turned to Abigail, who was still watching her with the gaze one would reserve for an unruly child. Ryan extended her hand, half in courtesy, half in surrender.

Abigail took the hand, rising gracefully. She nodded to Susan, then turned to Ryan. She leaned close, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper, but loud enough that Susan could hear.

“I realize you will have many duties to perform this week, my dear,” Abigail said with deceptive gentleness. “And that the Others will make great demands of you.” The underlying softness in her voice became steel. “But if you keep toying with me, I will have you confined to chambers.”

Abigail released Ryan’s hand, and turned to the door. In case there was any misunderstanding, she turned to Ryan once more.

“My chambers,” she said with emphasis.

Abigail disappeared, leaving Ryan to stare at the empty doorway. She could feel the heat rise in her face. She turned to Susan, who was trying to maintain a straight face.

“And I am supposed to be King,” Ryan said with self-mocking.

CHAPTER 9

SUSAN WAS SEARCHING FOR RYAN. She could not sense her presence in the house, and wondered if Ryan was purposely concealing it. Regardless, she had a pretty good idea where Ryan could be found. She paused before the heavy double doors, pressing her ear against the wood. She felt foolish for doing so, realizing Ryan had probably heard her approach.

She raised her hand to lightly knock, but was unable to complete the act because the door swung inward, causing her to pitch forward off-balance. Ryan caught her by the shoulders, muffling laughter as she did so.

“If you are trying to skulk about, you are going to have to be a good deal more quiet than that.”

Susan pushed away indignantly. “I was not skulking about. I just didn’t want to disturb you.”

Ryan relented from her teasing. “You are not disturbing me,” she said, stepping aside. She motioned for Susan to enter.

Susan’s indignation slipped away as she stepped into the room. Her eyes immediately went to the dark-haired man in unmoving repose.

“There has been no change?” Susan asked.

Ryan’s expression sobered. “No, his condition is the same.”

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