Blood Legacy: Heir to the Throne (16 page)

It was a gracious and humble request, one that was also met with pleased murmuring from the crowd. Many had entered with preconceived notions of the powerful upstart who had upended the chain of command by her strange birth. Ryan Alexander was already proving to be a surprise as a leader.

Abigail was now even more pleased with the girl. Ryan had acted with perfection on this date. Abigail nodded at the request. “The Grand Council would be honored.”

Ryan gave a short bow, then turned back to the assembly. “Then, as we are now whole once more, let us move from ceremony to celebration.”

Susan moved about the room, clinging to Raphael’s arm. After the intensity of the ceremony, she would gladly have foregone this part of the festivities.

Or so she told herself. She had to admit it was incredibly exciting being around the Others. Although she was trying to maintain her detached professionalism, it was impossible. The air was filled with a pleasurable tension, a tension that felt like sexual desire in overdrive.

It was as if everyone in the room was evaluating everyone else as a potential suitor. Which, she realized, was exactly what they were doing with no attempt at subtlety. Everyone was categorizing and being categorized, assessed in normal classes of attractiveness and desirability, but also by the unseen qualities of power and ability.

Susan glanced around. There truly was no one unattractive in the room, and some were absolutely stunning. Her glance brought unexpected attention as she inadvertently made eye contact with a handsome young man whose invitation was obvious in his eye. But the predatory aspect to his smile sent a chill down her spine, and she quickly looked away.

She could feel others reach out to touch her, and Raphael’s hand on her arm was bringing her no comfort. She could feel the dangerous desire begin to rise in her, a certain recklessness that was foreign to her nature. She could feel Raphael struggle to protect her, but he was no match for the power in this room. She could hear the murmurs of those around her, some sympathetic, some merely entertained at her plight.

Susan felt a hand caress her face, but there was nothing there. She felt other hands on her body and looked down, but again, there was nothing there. Some of the caresses were nearing inappropriate areas. The invisible hands began to pull at her, and she actually took an involuntary step before she fought off the sensation. Her heart began to beat rapidly, her fear activating a vestigial human response. The murmurs grew louder, reaching a crescendo in her ears although she was certain they were at normal conversation levels. Her fear increased, both for what she was feeling and the dangerous, self-destructive reaction it was provoking in her. She needed to leave right now, but her resolve was crumbling.

The murmuring was deafening now, surpassed only by the thunderous beating of her heart. She was both terrified and humiliated, and turned to flee.

And ran into a brick wall.

“Shhh,” Ryan said softly in her ear, instantly calming her. Her arms were about the young woman, having caught her in an embrace as she turned to run. Susan was never more thankful to see anyone in her entire life, and for a moment simply buried her head in Ryan’s shirt.

There was stunned silence about the room. No one had expected Ryan’s presence at so informal a gathering; it was unheard of. Nor were they expecting any of the Old Ones, so they were equally surprised when Marilyn slipped up beside Ryan, placing her hands about the girl’s waist. She pressed against her back, whispering in her ear.

“Do not be angry, ma Cherie. You know they cannot help themselves. It is our way.”

Ryan felt her anger teeter on the edge of fury. She just as strongly felt Marilyn’s soothing presence settle forcefully over her. No one in the room had any illusions that anyone other than Marilyn was capable of controlling the events of the next few seconds.

Ryan turned her head to the side to address the raven-haired beauty. “I know,” she said quietly, tightly controlled, “it is the only reason why I have not killed everyone in this room.”

Marilyn reached up to caress Ryan’s cheek, turning the girl’s chin slightly so that Ryan was looking at her.

“See, I knew you would make a good King, capable of such restraint.”

Ryan felt her anger dissipate entirely, completely distracted by Marilyn’s flirtation. Her eyes settled on Marilyn’s lips. “And since when do you value restraint?”

Marilyn smiled, knowing she had successfully dampened Ryan’s explosive temper. She adjusted her position, now merely enjoying her proximity to the girl.

“Under most circumstances, I don’t value it at all.”

“Hmm,” Ryan said, turning her attention back to Susan as the young woman raised her head and took a step backward. She was obviously embarrassed. Ryan grasped her by the shoulders and looked her deeply in the eye.

“You will be fine, now.”

“I’m, I’m sorry,” Susan stammered, “I don’t know what happened.”

Ryan smiled mischievously. “I do.” She turned as Kokumuo approached, resplendent in the native attire he had changed into. He bowed low to Ryan.

“Is everything all right, my King?”

“Everything is fine,” Ryan said. She nodded to Susan, “Kokumuo, I don’t believe you have been formally introduced to Dr. Ryerson.”

Kokumuo bowed low to Susan, showing great respect despite the fact she was a Young One. Ryan continued.

“Susan Ryerson,” Ryan said with emphasis, “is my friend.”

Kokumuo nodded his understanding. “I see,” was all he said.

Susan was not certain exactly what had just transpired, but as Marilyn pulled Ryan away, two enormous, ebony-skinned men settled in behind her. When Susan turned to glance at the fearsome pair, they nodded to her respectfully, then returned to their vigil. Susan felt equal parts embarrassment and relief, but relief quickly won out as she took comfort in their presence.

The room had settled into silence as the scene unfolded, and now the murmuring slowly returned. The shock of seeing the recently-crowned ruler appear out of nowhere had been intense; watching the erotic power play between Marilyn and Ryan had been even more so. Many had heard about the sensual interplay between the leader and the members of the Grand Council. Few thought they would ever see it first hand.

Marilyn pulled Ryan to a couch in an alcove, which provided a degree of privacy since every eye in the room was following them. There were many such alcoves about the chamber, offering many opportunities for whatever purpose might suit them. Marilyn had not released her hold on the girl since she had arrived, knowing how formidable her temper could be. Ryan, for her part, was in a rare, reckless mood, perhaps brought on by the rage she had been forced to suppress. When Marilyn sat, Ryan sprawled next to her, placing her head on her lap so that she could look up at the dark-haired woman. Marilyn gazed down at her in amusement, the intimacy and casual vulnerability of the position arousing an instant predatory response.

“You should be careful, little one. King or not.”

A smile played about Ryan’s lips. “I wondered what would change if I became King. Apparently, nothing at all.”

Marilyn brushed the girl’s hair from her eyes, the sensuality and deep affection in the gesture apparent to the many attempting to watch the pair through the sheer curtains. It sent waves of longing throughout the room. Most were astonished that the sovereign would appear so casually dressed, although in truth she did not appear any less imposing in the simple garb than she had in the armor. They were more astonished that she would settle so comfortably into the arms of the temptress.

“You would be surprised at what has changed,” Marilyn said. “You are very much like your father in certain ways, and in other ways very different.”

“And how am I different?” Ryan asked curiously.

Marilyn continued to toy with her hair. “Victor never would have appeared in so relaxed a manner, and he certainly never would have lain here openly in my arms.”

Ryan grew solemn. “And does that make me appear weak?”

“No,” Marilyn said thoughtfully, “it does not. In fact,” she continued, nodding to those still trying to furtively peer through the curtains, “they are astonished at how casually you wield enormous power.” She was silent for a moment, still thoughtful when she continued. “Victor inspired immense loyalty and respect.” She glanced down at the girl, “You, my dear, inspire adoration.”

“Then it was probably a good thing I did not kill them all,” Ryan said.

Marilyn laughed quietly. “Yes, that was a good thing. And if you are no longer in any danger of annihilating anyone, then I should introduce you about the room.” Her tone was less than enthusiastic. She preferred the position she was in. “Abigail will not be pleased if you spend the evening lying with me as opposed to fulfilling your royal obligations.”

Ryan reluctantly sat upright. “And since when do you concern yourself with Abigail’s displeasure?”

Marilyn smiled knowingly. “It is not me she will take it out on, little one.”

“Good point,” Ryan said, standing. “Then let me at least act like I know what I’m doing.”

In the following moments, Marilyn was impressed that the girl was able to do far more than act. Ryan was gracious and well-spoken, able to make each person she addressed feel they had the whole of her attention. Her warm manner and gentle touch elicited numerous blushes, but as usual, the girl was only fractionally aware of the effect she was having on everyone. Although far more informal than Victor, Ryan possessed the casual elegance of her father, and none would dare presume upon that informality. Ryan acted with utter self-confidence, a confidence that was irresistible. In her own inimical way, Marilyn realized, the girl was seducing everyone in the room.

Perhaps not everyone. Marilyn’s eyes narrowed as she felt the weight of one man’s stare. Ryan felt it as well, and turned to the handsome blond haired man who was watching her with a guarded expression. Without hesitation, she approached him. The tension in the room rose perceptibly.

“Devon,” Ryan said cordially, “I am pleased you accepted my invitation.”

Devon stared at the striking creature in front of him. She was taller and appeared younger than he had expected. She was also far more powerful than he ever could have imagined.

“I must confess I was surprised to receive it, my liege” he responded stiffly.

Ryan assessed him. “I thought Aeron’s line required representation in his absence,” she said quietly, no trace of sarcasm in her voice.

Devon was aware that they were the focal point of the room. He carefully controlled his anger, but his words were just as stiff. “The representation will be temporary because I do not believe my lord is dead.”

The room grew quiet. Now all eyes were on Ryan to see how she would react to this potential challenge. To everyone’s surprise, most of all Devon’s, Ryan merely smiled. There was a gleam in her eye as she responded.

“I happen to agree with you,” Ryan said casually. Several gasps greeted her words. “And I trust you will have the courtesy to notify me when he returns. Although,” Ryan continued, more to herself than anyone else, “I am quite certain I will be the first to know.”

Devon was stunned by the response. Ryan appeared more amused by the thought than genuinely concerned. He suddenly understood why Aeron had been taken with this one. She was extraordinary.

Ryan turned to leave but had made it only two steps when Devon’s words stopped her.

“My lord?”

She turned back to him expectantly.

“Yes?”

The room fell into silence.

“You have a son,” Devon said. It was not a question.

There was a fiercely predatory gleam in Ryan’s eye.

“Yes,” she said mildly, “I do.”

The silence in the room was now tomb-like.

“It is Aeron’s,” Devon said cautiously, and again it was not a question.

Ryan smiled, revealing dangerously perfect teeth. “No, he is my mine.” This thought seemed to amuse Ryan, and she relented slightly. “Although Aeron was somewhat instrumental in the process.”

A curious gratitude settled on Devon. Ryan could have easily reacted in fury, punishing him for his impertinence. Instead she seemed mildly entertained by the interaction, responding with complete frankness. He bowed low. “Thank you, my lord.”

Ryan nodded and resumed her departure. She glanced around the room. Marilyn was nowhere to be found and Ryan realized she was probably already lining up suitors for the evening. She could feel the tell-tale pressure that indicated pairing would commence soon. It was time for her to take her leave. She paused before the door, addressing Susan and Raphael in a wry tone. “This will very soon descend into complete debauchery, you may want to make your exit.”