Blood Legacy: The Story of Ryan (14 page)

“Smells like gas in here, mom.”

Susan smiled at his inquisitive nature. Actually, it smelled strongly of emissions, but he was close enough.

“I see our car, I see our car,” he began chanting. He broke away from her and began running toward it.

“Jason,” she called out, “be careful.”

She caught up with him just as he reached their Lexus. He tapped the bumper. “I win.”

Susan removed her keys from her purse. “Okay,” she said, “you win.” She turned to place the key in the doorlock, bumping the figure that was there. She stepped back, startled. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, stepping back, “I didn’t see you.”

The figure stepped forward and Susan was surprised to see it was the handsome young man. He smiled at her but it was a cold smile and Susan had sudden misgivings. It seemed entirely too coincidental that he had been in the mall and was now here.

“No problem,” he said smoothly, “can I get that for you?”

Susan took a step backward, unconsciously clutching the keys to her body. “No,” she said, “that’s all right. Thank you.”

Susan took another step back and the man took another step forward. Susan held out her purse. “Look, if this is what you want, you can have it.” She realized she was clutching the keys, and held them out as well. “If you want the car, you can have that too.”

The young man’s eyes flickered up and down her body and his tone was insolent. “You don’t seem to realize I can have anything I want.”

The words were oddly familiar. Susan pushed the irrelevant thought away, trying to concentrate on the situation at hand. She tried to steady her voice, hoping and praying that someone, anyone, would appear in the deserted parking structure. “And what is it you want?” Susan asked, attempting another step backward

The man’s arm flashed out, grabbing her by the throat and yanking her to him with incredible strength. He leaned down to look in her face. “You should never have written that story,” he said between clenched teeth. “Who did you find? Who was the one who betrayed us?”

Susan shook her head in denial, her eyes wide. Thoughts of the golden-haired woman flashed through her mind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she managed to croak out. The man’s grip tightened, beginning to crush her windpipe.

“You lie,” he snarled through gritted teeth, “who was it?”

Susan could see Jason’s head peaking from behind the car. The thought of her son made her both afraid and brave. She began struggling wildly. The man holding her seemed surprised at her sudden surge of strength, but this merely caused him to tighten his grip.

Jason chose that moment to launch his assault. He ran forward and kicked the man in the shins. The man, without removing his eyes from Susan, shoved the little boy into the side of the car, knocking him unconscious. Susan desperately tried to catch sight of him as he fell, but wasn’t able to because the man was holding her so tightly.

“That wasn’t very nice,” came a voice from the shadows.

The voice was smooth, melodious, the tone offhanded. The figure sounded almost bored, completely unmoved by the scene before it. Susan recognized the voice immediately.

 The golden-haired woman stepped from the shadows. She was taller than the young man and stared down at him. The dangerous glint in her eye belied the lack of concern in her voice.

The young man underwent a startling transformation. The arrogance on his features disappeared and was immediately replaced by terror. He released Susan and she slumped to the ground next to Jason’s prone body, rubbing the bruises on her throat. The woman moved closer, glancing down at the two then back at the young man. Her words were unconcerned.

“I think you should pick on someone your own size.”

The young man tried to bolt but the woman’s arm flashed out. She now held the young man by the throat and dragged him effortlessly to her. She gazed down at him as he began pleading.

“Oh my god,” he sobbed, “I didn’t know. I couldn’t have known. I was told to come here by—”

The woman silenced him by placing her fingers on his lips. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered to him. “It’s too late.”

She reached her arm around his head and snapped his neck. The move was so quick and unexpected that Susan did not have time to turn away from the violent act. The man’s head now hung at an odd angle and his lifeless eyes stared down at her.

Susan turned away, clutching Jason to her breast. She did not want to watch the incomprehensible scene before her.

The golden-haired woman stared down at her, seemingly unperturbed by the corpse she now held in her hand. “You had better go,” she said to Susan.

Susan scrambled to her feet, trying to hold Jason and retrieve her keys at the same time. She fumbled with the keys, dropping them, then kneeled to pick them up, still clutching her unconscious son. The woman took the keys from her patiently, effortlessly supporting the corpse with one hand. She unlocked the door then held it open in a chivalrous gesture, holding out the keys.

Susan snatched the keys from the woman, practically threw Jason in the car, then climbed in and slammed the door behind her. Her hands were shaking as she placed the key in the ignition. She started the car, slammed it in reverse, then went screeching backwards. She slammed it into drive, then went screeching toward the exit.

The woman watched the Lexus recklessly leave the parking lot, her face expressionless. She glanced down at the body in her grasp, then pulled it into the shadows. She held the lifeless corpse, focusing her senses in the darkness: not lifeless just yet. She shrugged. Easy enough to rectify.

Rather than kneel down, the woman pulled the body upward. She removed a dagger from inside her coat and with surgical precision, sliced the man’s throat from ear-to-ear. Blood began to spill out onto the ground.

Although the neck of the corpse still hung at an odd angle, the man’s eyes fluttered open. He tried to speak, but could not because of the damage to his throat. The woman held him dispassionately, allowing the blood to pool on the ground. He struggled feebly for a few moments, then went limp. She sensed that his life force was still present, but this did not concern her. It would just take the right combination of techniques.

She smashed her fist through the glass window of the vehicle next to her, the violence as quick and easy as before. She shoved the body through the gaping hole, then walked to the rear of the car. She placed her fingertips under the edge of the trunk and popped the trunklid upward with a flick of her wrist. She was pleased to find a gas can in the storage space. She shook the can, noting the sloshing sound inside.

She removed the cap and splashed the gasoline on and underneath the car. She moved a few feet away, then removed the small case from her pocket. She took a small cigar from the case, expertly lit it, then turned to walk away. As she turned, she tossed the match over her shoulder.

The gas caught quickly and within seconds the car was fully engulfed. Her body was momentarily silhouetted by the flames before it disappeared into the darkness.

Susan stared down at her son in the hospital bed. His head was wrapped in a bandage and he was lightly sleeping. After ensuring there was no bleeding inside the skull, the doctors suggested he be kept in the hospital for observation. Susan, understanding how serious a head injury could be, agreed without hesitation.

Susan had rushed Jason to the hospital immediately following the attack in the parking structure. He had awakened in traumatic care and fortunately the first thing he had seen was her. He stayed awake all through the examination and only moments ago had finally drifted off to sleep. He clutched the stuffed dinosaur Neda had brought from home.

The thought of the older woman made Susan glance up. She could see Neda seated outside clutching a box of tissues. There were dark circles under her eyes. Susan’s eyes drifted to the left. A refined-looking gentleman sat three seats down from her. He was dressed in a three-piece suit with a cane leaning against the seat next to him. A hat was perched neatly atop the cane.

Susan stared at the man. There was something about him.

She stood up abruptly and moved toward the door with purpose. The man glanced up from his magazine as she came through the door. Neda started to speak but the words died on her lips as Susan brushed by to confront the man.

“Where is she?”

The man gazed up at her in some confusion. “Excuse me, ma’am?” he asked politely in a clipped, British accent.

Susan was not to be deterred. “The woman. The one with the golden hair. Where is she? I want to speak with her.”

The older gentleman’s expression was still perplexed, but now laced with a little sympathy. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, ma’am. And I believe you must have me confused with someone else.”

 Neda stood and took Susan’s elbow but Susan pulled away. She was adamant. “There are no other patients on this floor. I know. I work here. There’s no reason for you to be here.”

The gentleman’s expression changed to one of concern. “Oh, then I must be on the wrong floor.” He stood, gathering his belongings. “How unfortunate. Thank you so much for telling me.”

To Neda’s dismay, Susan reached out to grab the man’s sleeve.

And he was gone.

Susan turned and there he was, to her right, several feet away. He gazed at her with an unwavering gaze, his air of grandfatherly concern gone, his face now expressionless.

Susan was slightly afraid, but her anger and fear for her son were making her brave. “I want to see her. I want an explanation.”

The man shook his head. His words were unequivocal. “This is not her fault. You should not have published your work. You brought this upon yourself.”

Neda was desperately trying to follow the conversation between the two, but this brought her up short. She took a threatening step toward the man. “How dare you accuse her of bringing this upon herself. As if she would ever do anything to—”

Surprisingly, it was Susan who stopped Neda’s tirade. She watched the man, trying to steady her voice. “I don’t care,” she said, “I want an explanation.”

The man was silent, giving no reaction to her words. If he was contemplating them, he gave no indication he was doing so. Susan was discouraged but continued anyway, playing her last card.

“I don’t think you would be here if she didn’t feel at least partially responsible.”

Her words seemed to have no impact on him. He simply stood there and for a moment, Susan was afraid he was going to walk away.

He did not. “Very well,” he said stiffly, his accent even more pronounced. He lowered his voice so that Susan could barely hear it. “If it were up to me, I would not let you anywhere near my master.”

The expression caught Susan by surprise. It seemed so archaic, so ancient, so out of place in the ultra-modern hospital corridor. The man continued. “I would not even have come here were it not for her direction. But I know her well, and I believe she will receive you.”

The man abruptly turned and began to walk down the hallway. He now moved fluidly, in complete contrast to his earlier stiffness. Susan watched him walk away. She glanced indecisively through the window at her comatose son, then made a snap decision.

“Stay with him, Neda. I’ll be back.”

Neda stepped forward as if to try and talk her out of it, but then relented. She watched the young redhead disappear into the elevator with the older man. She then moved to the window to look down into the receiving area of the hospital. A sleek, black limousine pulled up to the curb and within minutes, Susan’s red hair could be seen next to it. Both she and the elder man climbed into the rear seating area and the limousine pulled smoothly away from the curb.

Neda watched it disappear, feeling a shiver make its way up her spine. Although not a particularly religious woman, she crossed herself for good measure.

Susan rode silently in the back of the limousine. The windows were blacked out so she could not see where they were going. Other than a few directions to the unseen driver, the older man did not say a word. He sat staring at the opaque window, almost as if he could see through it.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Susan felt the vehicle slow, then begin to drive up what seemed a curvy road. This part of the drive was much shorter, and it seemed only a few minutes before the vehicle came to a stop. Immediately the door opened and the man gestured for her to get out.