Blood Legacy: The House of Alexander (15 page)

As the figure began to walk up the aisle, those she passed broke their bonds, one by one raising their heads uncertainly. Those they fed upon also raised up, drawn to the fair-haired one.

The pastor felt his excitement grow. He could not tell how old this girl was, although he did not think she was as old as his century mark. His congregation was made up of entirely Young Ones, their lust so great they constantly killed one another. It would be pleasant to have someone slightly older, someone more powerful to sate his hunger. His eyes gleamed as the girl approached. He did not know if he could control his own passion, however, nor guarantee the girl’s life.

Ryan sensed these thoughts and was amused. Over time she had grown more and more capable of disguising her presence, and at times it was nearly a game to her. The pastor held out his hands to her, but Ryan did not take them. She could disguise her presence, but she could not hide the power in her touch.

The pastor misinterpreted her hesitation. “Do not be afraid, my child. The Lord will welcome you into his everlasting arms.”

Ryan’s amusement grew. “I really don’t think so. I don’t think heaven would welcome me at all.”

Evidently, the pastor was also deaf to sarcasm, because he again misinterpreted her meaning. “I am certain you are worthy, my child. Kneel, and it shall be proven so.”

Ryan gazed at him. Without revealing the full extent of her power, she began to put pressure on him, subtly at first, but steadily increasing.

“I bow before no one,” she said quietly.

Confusion was apparent on the pastor’s face. He felt an immense downward force, and the oddest desire to kneel. He withstood the impulse only seconds before he went down on one knee, and then the other. The entire congregation grew silent and still, spellbound and at the sight of their leader on his knees before the golden-haired stranger.

“You do not know me,” Ryan said, “But I am going to give you a gift.” She raised her finger to her lips and ran the very tip lightly over her front teeth. A drop of blood appeared on the fingertip.

The pastor stared at the finger, as did the rest of the congregation. He was mesmerized by the drop, an infinitesimal amount that created a boundless ache within him he did not understand. He raised his eyes to the girl’s, who gazed down at him.

Very slowly, Ryan allowed her presence to be known. And very slowly, those in the room saw her as she truly was. Fear and longing swept through the church, settling most firmly on the pastor kneeling at her feet. His terror was infinite, surpassed only by his craving for her blood.

Ryan stared at the man, then at the drop on her finger. “It will kill you,” she said resolutely. “But then again, most vices eventually will.”

The drop wavered before him, but there was never any doubt as to his decision. He grabbed the wrist, but could not budge the arm, so powerful was the creature in front of him. Very slowly, Ryan lowered her hand, touching the finger to his lips. She pulled it away instantly, leaving only a touch of red.

The pastor’s eyes rolled back in his head, both in pain and ecstasy as the blood shot through his veins like lightning. His last thought was that the agony was more than he anticipated, but worth it all the same.

Ryan turned to the shocked and mesmerized congregation. “You know what I expect of you,” she said, her words easily carrying in the silent hall. She stepped down from the altar, and casually walked down the aisle. No one moved until the black-garbed figure had disappeared.

They sat for a long time, staring at one another.

And then they went about the Lord’s business.

CHAPTER 10

AERON FELT ABIGAIL’S APPROACH a great distance off. He knew why she had come. Her intelligence sources were as good, if not better, than his own. He had been expecting her.

She swept into his parlor, a cool, elegant, feminine presence in stark contrast to the dark masculinity of his furnishings. He held out his hand and she offered hers. He brushed his lips across her skin, and dismissed her escort with a glance

Abigail settled, smoothing the skirt that never wrinkled. She did not bother with small talk.

“It seems our young prince has resurfaced.”

“Oh really,” he said noncommittally.

Abigail smiled, not fooled by his demeanor. “Yes. The papers have reported a ‘terrorist attack’ in which over 400 Americans were killed in a discotheque.”

Aeron did not perpetuate his charade of ignorance. “Yes, 380 of which were our Kind. Clever girl,” he added, half to himself. “Took out a crowd of Young Ones in a single blow.”

Abigail, “And a church.”

Aeron raised an eyebrow. This he had not heard.

“Apparently one of our Kind was a pastor who had decided to transform his entire flock, creating one of the many cults among our Kind.”

“Ah yes,” Aeron said sarcastically, “The inevitable blending of religion, lust, and death from lesser beings who cannot handle the simple fact that we are killers.”

Abigail smiled. “In this case, death, as in the ‘angel of death,’ was the predominant theme. Accounts from the few survivors describe the visitation of ‘the bright morning star’ who sowed mass confusion, resulting in the destruction of almost the entire congregation.”

“She killed them?”

“Oh no,” Abigail said, “She didn’t have to. They all killed one another.”

Aeron contemplated this fact. “And you’re certain it was her.”

Abigail nodded. “There is no doubt.”

Aeron was impressed. An interesting strategy. “It appears our young friend is pursuing quantity over quality, although I must confess the ingenuity of her methods thus far is remarkable as well.”

“If you will remember, her father employed the same ‘creativity’ in his elimination process, although he did not have nearly the mobility or the resources that she has now. And,” Abigail said thoughtfully, “I don’t believe there has ever been a hunter of this magnitude, not even Victor.”

Aeron was silent for a moment. “How many from the congregation?”

Abigail’s reply was cool. “Over six hundred.”

Before Aeron could fully digest this number, she added. “And that doesn’t count those destroyed in the collapse of skyscraper yesterday, a strategic accident.”

Aeron glanced up sharply. “How many total?”

There was a hint of recrimination in her voice. “Nearly two thousand.”

Nearly two thousand. Aeron turned the number over in his head. Two thousand in three days. Granted they were the weakest of their Kind, one step from being human, but still …

“We must give an order of dispersal,” he said, thinking aloud. “No large gatherings. We can’t make it too easy for our little hunter.”

Abigail agreed, in principle. “It will be difficult. Our Kind are ever-social, drawn to one another by desire. If Young Ones willingly engage in the act of Sharing knowing they potentially face death, a more ‘abstract’ threat of death is unlikely to deter them.” She paused, deep in thought for a moment before she continued.

“I have the feeling that Ryan is simply sending a message right now, expressing her disdain for this process. She wanted to personalize the initial strikes.”

Aeron listened intently. Abigail knew Ryan better than almost anyone else. “And what would you expect her to do next?”

Abigail was thoughtful. “Ryan will not run about killing our Kind, as most hunters have done. It is beneath her. Where others revel in the power and death they perpetrate, Ryan simply doesn’t care.”

Abigail rose, the movement flowing and graceful. “I believe her strikes will grow more and more impersonal. And because she is in a fragile emotional state, I believe the damage she inflicts will grow exponentially.” She turned to face Aeron.

“She will strike against us all, one way or another.”

Aeron smiled pleasantly, although it wasn’t pleasant to see. “She will not last that long.”

There was much activity about the castle, and Susan was curious as to what could cause such commotion. When Ryan strode into the room completely unannounced, she realized the cause. Edward was nonplussed, but she did not know if that was because he had expected Ryan, or simply because he was accustomed to her unpredictability.

Ryan sat down at her desk and began shuffling paperwork. Without looking up, she addressed Edward.

“Are these the census figures I requested?”

Edward moved to her side. “They are not a sampling per se, but they are probably more accurate than a traditional census.”

Ryan glanced up at him in question. He leaned down and picked up one particular chart. “Our Kind are notoriously secretive, which makes it difficult to locate them. However, using some very advanced population equations and computer modeling, we have determined what we believe to be an accurate number.”

Ryan thumbed through the paperwork. “How many?”

Edward pulled a particular chart from the stack. “Approximately 50,000, worldwide.”

“That’s impossible.”

Both Ryan and Edward looked up at the skepticism from the human occupant of the room. Susan had the grace to appear embarrassed at eavesdropping, but did not relent.

“There is no way that there are that few of your Kind on this planet. As long-lived as you are, with no natural enemies, your Kind should be the dominant species on earth.”

“Well,” Edward said mildly, “I would make that argument regardless of our number, but I see your point.” He picked up another chart and Susan drew close.

“It is not entirely true that we have no natural enemies, because our Kind are both predator and prey internally within the species. And unlike human beings, we enjoy killing our young.”

Susan swallowed at the reminder as Edward continued. “Which brings up some interesting dynamics in terms of population control. Our Kind cannot reproduce when young, nor when old, much like humans. The window of opportunity between when One is powerful enough to initiate Change but not so powerful that the human is destroyed is small, ranging from a few decades to perhaps a century in extreme cases.”

“Yes,” Susan agreed, “But even a few decades is more than enough time to create hundreds, if not thousands of offspring.”

Ryan nodded. “If in fact that was a driving force for us. But unlike human beings, our reproduction is not linked to desire, and Sharing with humans is not that pleasant an experience. Nor do we have the evolutionary drive to pass on our genes because we do not face the specter of death.” Ryan thought fleetingly of her father, and her expression darkened.

Edward continued. “And you must remember that the population rate is a function of both birth rate and attrition, and although those who survive their infancy are essentially immortal, the attrition rate prior to that is stratospherically high.” Edward sighed, as if it were an unfortunate fact of life. “We enjoy killing more than creating.”

Susan began to understand. “Your population curve, then must be a steep pyramid.”

“Very steep,” Edward replied, “Although it’s not exactly a pyramid, but more like an unbalanced hourglass, with the bulk of the sand at the bottom. The vast majority of our Kind at any given time are Young Ones. There are less than four hundred currently occupying the Middle Ground, those capable of reproducing.” Edward nodded toward Ryan, “And as mentioned earlier, there is no guarantee that all four hundred are actively reproducing.”

Susan was fascinated. “Then how many Old Ones are there?”

Edward was thoughtful. “If you use the term ‘Old One’ as anyone who is too powerful to initiate Change and has passed into immortality, there are perhaps fewer than four thousand.”

Susan looked at the golden-haired woman. “And how many are there like Ryan?”

Edward smiled. “I would argue only one. But if you are referring to those at her level of power, such as Marilyn and Abigail, there are fewer than a hundred within striking distance, and perhaps two dozen who are even close.”

Susan ran the numbers through her head, going back to an earlier thought. “Then that means that almost all of the 45,000 Young Ones who are alive now will die before they reach maturity.”

Edward nodded. “Exactly. The attrition rate exceeds 98%. They will not survive complications from their Change, they may be killed by someone older, they may kill one another, or something will befall them before they can pass into immortality. But very few will survive to reproduce.”