Blood Legacy: The House of Alexander (11 page)

Ryan shrugged. “Now that’s where it gets complicated, doesn’t it? Deciding who is still standing at the end of the game.” Ryan sighed. “You are right, it might be easier just to destroy them all.”

Edward glanced over at his young liege; that wasn’t what he had said at all.

Ryan eyed her most-faithful servant. “I am not serious, Edward. I swear, sometimes you have no sense of humor at all.”

Edward left to ready the jet for departure and Ryan made her way through the underground corridors to the quarters of the Grand Council members. She could feel the power of those present as she approached. She stopped for a moment, letting the sensations flow over her. It was with a certain surprise that she felt Ala and Kusunoki together, although she immediately withdrew her attention out of respect for their privacy. They knew she was here as well.

Ryan continued on until she came to the entryway of Abigail’s suite. Each member of the Council had ornate accommodations, a reflection of their power and wealth. The door whispered open, and as Ryan entered she realized each suite was a reflection of the occupant’s style and personality as well.

Abigail’s suite was a study in timeless elegance and cool beauty. Decorated in brilliant whites and pale blues, it could have been a chateau on the banks of the Garonne river as opposed to a bunker thousands of feet underground. Their Kind had always gone to elaborate lengths to ensure privacy, but were unwilling to sacrifice anything in terms of luxury.

The skin on the back of Ryan’s neck tingled as she felt Abigail’s presence behind her. The stunning older woman brushed by her, causing the skin on her arm to tingle as well.

“Please, my dear, come sit with me awhile.”

With Abigail, even a subtle request held the seeds of command. The fact that Abigail had undergone the Change when physically older than most of her Kind lent her an air of matriarchal authority, even amongst beings whose physical appearance meant nothing. The fact that she was also one of the Oldest of their Kind created an irresistible combination of regal beauty and staggering power.

Ryan was not immune to Abigail’s charms. In fact, Ryan’s apparent youth created the opposite psychological conundrum. Ryan had been Changed when so physically young, although she was almost seven centuries old, Abigail could still make her feel like a child.

Unfortunately for Ryan, Abigail was very aware of this. “Here, my dear,” she said, motioning to the seat across from her.

Ryan obeyed, noting that Abigail had changed from her robes into a striking gown, then noting that she wished she hadn’t noted this. She moved further into the chambers and settled across from Abigail into cushions that were a little too comfortable. Their knees nearly touched and as Abigail smoothed her gown, the hem fell across Ryan’s feet.

“It is good to see you,” Abigail said, noting that the girl had changed into a white shirt open at the throat.

“And you as well,” Ryan replied.

“I have not seen you since,” Abigail paused and Ryan shifted uncomfortably, “Why, since Marilyn had her way with you after the trial.”

One of the few human responses that Ryan had retained after her Change was her ability to blush, although Ryan rather considered it her inability to refrain from blushing. She was unable to refrain now, which Abigail observed with pleasure.

The memory of her union with Marilyn brought the full force of another memory. Victor had offered his child to Marilyn in return for her loyalty and assistance in recovering from the near-mortal injuries Ryan had inflicted upon him. He had made the same offer to Abigail. However, to the surprise of everyone Abigail had chosen to delay her gratification and had “saved” her debt, choosing to exercise her option at some unspecified time in the future.

The knowledge of that unfinished business sat heavily in the room at this moment. Ryan knew that Abigail could call the debt at any time. The knowledge sat between them, creating a tension that was not without pleasure. This thought made Ryan angry, or at least made her want to be angry, at her weakness. Abigail watched the girl’s struggle, entertained.

Ryan shook her head. “Is there a reason why you have called me here?”

Abigail stared at the girl a moment longer, unwilling to let her little fish loose just yet. When she did release her, it was merely to sink the hook’s barb deeper.

“So how is it that you know Aeron?” she asked.

The question slammed into Ryan, and her jaw clenched at the blow. She said nothing, attempting to block Abigail’s sudden invasion of her mind. But unlike matters in which she was unequivocal, such as her father, thoughts of Aeron had no such clarity, and were more accessible.

Abigail sensed the confusion and was intrigued. She shifted slightly so that her leg was touching that of Ryan. The contact sent a shockwave through her, almost as if it had opened up a physical conduit between the two beings. Abigail saw that Ryan felt the shock as well and was curious to see if she would withdraw from the connection. As vulnerable as Ryan was, Abigail was impressed that she did not pull away. That did not keep her from pressing her advantage, however.

“Did Aeron force you?” she asked softly.

Ryan was quiet for a moment. “As much as any of our Kind forces one.”

Ah, Abigail thought, an interesting admission. The girl had been seduced. She had been privy to Aeron’s seduction of others, and it was almost always violent. She would have given almost anything to watch Aeron take this One. She wondered how successful Ryan had been at resistance.

“And did you take his blood?”

Ryan shook her head, her eyes distant. Abigail knew that there was something the girl was withholding.

“Why not?”

Ryan looked down, but her eyes were still focused on a far-away place. She raised her finger to her face, stroking her lip. Abigail was entranced at the unconscious gesture, and struggled to stay on task.

“Victor came, just as Aeron had bled me.”

Ah, Abigail thought, the two had been interrupted before the moment of decision had arrived. That would not keep her from finding out what that decision might have been. Her next words were casual, but her question was devastating.

“And would you have taken his blood?”

The question wrenched at Ryan. Her jaw clenched, almost spasmodically. Her eyes, still unfocused, were in a very dark place.

“Would you,” Abigail repeated more softly, “Have taken his blood?”

Abigail shifted again and her leg was firmly pressed up against Ryan’s thigh, opening the conduit wide. Ryan closed her eyes, knowing she could not escape this woman and could not lie to her.

“Yes, I would have taken his blood.”

Abigail sighed with satisfaction, settling back into the deep cushions of the chaise lounge. She was not done with her little fish yet.

And would you take my blood?

The words whispered silently through Ryan’s head, unspoken but clearly communicated. She stared at the woman across from her. Abigail’s knowing smile told her that she did not require an answer because the response was already known.

Ryan’s silence was damning, and Abigail’s pleasure was palpable. Her next words, ever so casual, were as fraught with peril for Ryan as those that came before.

“And Aeron did not try to kill you?”

Abigail had answered her own question by the way in which it had been asked. And Ryan did not bother to respond, verifying the accuracy of Abigail’s answer. Silence, both internal and external enveloped the two.

You were the one who said I could not be killed.

The voice came inside Abigail’s head, angry, powerful, and seductive. Ryan’s eyes reflected a fire that had no external source and flickered dangerously in Abigail’s cool and elegant chambers. It served to remind Abigail that her little fish was in reality a very lethal shark with few if any equals in an endless sea.

“Why are you asking these questions?” Ryan asked quietly, aloud.

Abigail flicked an imaginary piece of lint from her gown. Her words were deliberately casual. “I like to know what motivates the Others on the Council.”

Ryan was not fooled by the studied indifference of the answer. “And what motivates you, Abigail?”

Abigail smiled and Ryan swiftly realized she did not want the answer. But it was too late, because the question lay open between them.

“You, my dear,” Abigail said simply, but not gently, staring at the girl with the unblinking gaze of their Kind. “You always have.”

Ryan stared at the beautiful woman across from her. It was an astonishing admission that should have empowered Ryan, but it did no such thing. In fact, it had the opposite effect as Ryan felt a marked weakness. Ryan sat across from the elegant, enigmatic matriarch and felt a vulnerability that she had felt few times in her life. The seduction Abigail offered was filled with destruction.

Not offering, Ryan thought, that implies a latitude that is not present.

Abigail stood and Ryan felt the anguish of the disengagement, physical and otherwise. Abigail smiled, gazing down at the girl. She reached out and touched Ryan’s face, tracing Ryan’s cheekbone with her hand. It was all Ryan could do to keep from grasping the hand and pressing it to her chest. She again felt the loss as Abigail pulled away from her.

“As always, I have enjoyed your company my dear,” Abigail said over her shoulder.

Ryan realized she had been dismissed. Abigail was gone. She sat for a few moments, dazed by the encounter, the few brain cells left capable of intellectual thought cataloging the event.

As her senses returned to her and the spell lifted, she realized something of far greater importance.

Abigail had quite emphatically served her notice.

“You conveniently neglected to tell any of us that you and Ryan had already met.”

Aeron smiled at the voice in his anteroom. He had felt Abigail’s approach.

“And how was your visit with our little crown prince?”

Abigail skillfully redirected the conversation without actually changing the subject.

“Enlightening. She told me of your little encounter years ago. Odd that you chose not to share that information with me.”

“I thought you would more enjoy hearing it from the whelp.”

“Hmmm,” Abigail said noncommittally, “Yes.”

Aeron turned to Abigail, his eyes gleaming. “I am sure she did not do the story justice.”

Abigail settled into the chaise across from him. “So perhaps you will?”

Aeron smiled, undeceived by her cool demeanor. “Of course, my dear. I am well aware of your voyeuristic tendencies.”

The comment was not an insult, nor was it taken as one. Abigail gazed at him serenely, composed as always.

Aeron reached for his glass of wine. “It was during the time of the Huguenots, and there was much chaos and bloodshed throughout the country, which of course entertained me greatly.” Aeron grew thoughtful. “One night I felt a presence passing through my land, and it intrigued me. I began drawing it towards me.”

“Like a moth to a flame.”

Aeron smiled at Abigail’s mocking tone. “Yes, like a moth to a flame, not realizing I was pulling in a full-fledged raptor.”

Abigail nodded, and he continued.

“She was dressed like a boy. A beautiful, androgynous little boy. I did not realize at first who she was. I thought ‘the boy’ might provide a brief dalliance, a bit of a distraction.”

“But it ended up being much more than that,” Abigail said.

“Oh yes, I realized very quickly she was Victor’s offspring, which of course was impossible because we all knew Victor had chosen not to reproduce. He had been past the ability to initiate Change for centuries, long before this child had been transformed.”

“And yet there she was,” Abigail prompted.

“Ah yes,” Aeron said, lost in the memory. “There she was. Impossibly powerful for one so young.”

“And so oblivious to her own power,” Abigail added, drawn into the memories despite herself. “Ryan has always had an exquisite mixture of power and vulnerability.”

Aeron gazed at Abigail shrewdly. “You want her, too.”

Abigail gazed back at him. “Everyone wants her.”

Aeron nodded, returning to his story. “Which is why I found it so extraordinary that she had never Shared with anyone except Victor. From the moment her blood touched my lips, I was flooded with images that passed so rapidly I could make no sense of it. But there was no one there except Victor.”