Blood Legacy: Heir to the Throne (22 page)

“What?” Victor asked impatiently. He turned to the opening doors as Marilyn and Kusunoki entered, followed by Ala. Although he had not seen them in years and they were joyful at his recovery, there seemed to be a hesitancy about them that Victor did not quite understand. Did not understand, that is, until Marilyn stepped to the side, revealing what Ala held in her arms.

Victor stared.

After what seemed an interminable moment, Abigail quietly noted, “He has his grandfather’s hair.”

Victor continued to stare at the boy. “And Aeron’s eyes,” he said finally.

It was difficult to assess Victor’s reaction, perhaps because it was taking him a moment to have one.

“But beyond that,” he said at last, “he looks exactly like Ryan.” If there was any remaining doubt as to his feelings, he added, “he is beautiful.”

Ala walked to Victor, who could not take his eyes from the boy. She held him out. Victor took him and held him for a moment as if he was so fragile he might break. He then clutched him to his chest, overcome with emotion. The boy sat contentedly sucking his thumb.

“He could be Ryan at that age,” Victor said.

Abigail had suspected as much, although none of the Others had known Ryan as a child. “His name is Drake,” she said gently.

Victor held him out once more, examining his perfection. “Drake Alexander,” he said.

For the first time since his mother had disappeared, the boy smiled. It seemed as if he knew exactly who Victor was, and took great comfort in his presence. And for the first time since Victor had awakened, he, too, smiled.

CHAPTER 22

RYAN LAY ON HER ROCK SLAB. They had given her one concession to comfort, a cushion-like pillow that she could prop herself up on. The guards seemed very concerned for her welfare, checking on her on a regular basis. She ignored them, sprawled out on her altar bed, mainly because she did not think she could yet move. The woman’s feeding had taken a tremendous toll on her and she spent much of her time in an exhausted sleep.

The door opened and Ryan ignored whomever entered, but only for a moment. Some instinct told her she should immediately open her eyes. Madelyn towered over her.

“What has happened?” Madelyn demanded.

Ryan just stared at her. She had felt the change as well, as if a breeze had arisen from nowhere on a still summer day. She did not respond.

Madelyn bent down over her and it took all of Ryan’s self-discipline not to flinch away.

“I will not ask you again.”

The threat in her voice was unmistakable and Ryan delayed her response only enough to incur irritation, not wrath.

“My father has awakened,” Ryan replied quietly, concealing any joy it might have given her.

In contrast, Madelyn disguised nothing. “Victor Alexander,” she said with pleasure, the same strange enunciation of the last name, “another I have longed to meet.” She turned her attention back to Ryan. “Perhaps I should arrange a reunion between you and your father.”

Ryan felt fear and rage at the proposition and desperately struggled to hide her emotions. Something, however, suddenly occurred to her.

Madelyn had not known about Victor.

“You cannot read my thoughts,” Ryan said slowly. Madelyn simply looked at her, the simmering anger in her eyes the only validation Ryan needed. Ryan glanced at Madelyn’s familiar who stood in the doorway.

“None of you can,” Ryan said in wonder. This was an ability that the older of her Kind took completely for granted.

In an instant, Madelyn snatched her upward by her shirt collar, jerking her so that they were face-to-face. It was immediately obvious that Ryan had been prone not out of disrespect but out of pain as she muffled a groan at the wrenching movement.

The pain Madelyn inflicted seemed to regulate her anger, but her words were still coldly furious.

“I cannot read your thoughts, but I can sense when you are communicating with them,” she said, “which is why I forbid you to do so.”

Ryan stared at her defiantly. She would not reach out to the Others, but that limitation was of far less consequence than the fact that these Ones could not read her mind.

It did not seem an entirely necessary ability at the moment. Madelyn pulled her even closer until they were almost cheek-to-cheek. Her gaze lowered, then lingered on the prominent bruise on Ryan’s neck.

“If I feed on you again,” Madelyn said softly, “before you are fully recovered, you will not survive.”

Ryan’s gaze was steady. “Why would you want to?” she replied, just as softly, “when I was such a disappointment the first time?”

Madelyn gazed at the girl, and Ryan was quite certain she was going to be killed. But the woman surprised her by smiling.

“You are entertaining, Ryan Alexander.” Madelyn stood upright, abruptly dropping her back onto the rock slab. Ryan suppressed another moan and curled into a ball.

“Pray that you stay that way,” she said as she departed.

CHAPTER 23

AERON STOOD BEFORE VICTOR, far more patient than Abigail had ever seen him. She sat off to the side and took turns examining the two men. Victor sat behind his desk, one long leg crossed over the other, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He gazed at the man standing before him, his face nearly expressionless except for the slightest trace of disdain. Aeron stood ramrod straight, his hands clasped in front of him, his gaze on the great expanse of desk in front of him.

Abigail was rather shocked. Under normal circumstances, these two would be at each other’s throats, and under the current circumstances, Abigail was quite surprised Aeron was not in a fight for his life. Instead, there seemed to some strange undercurrent that was keeping both in check, and Abigail was desperately trying to understand the nuance. She glanced from one to the other, and it suddenly struck her.

Aeron now had the air of the less-than-desirable prom date standing before the disapproving father. The thought filled Abigail with such mirth she had to muffle her laughter. Both men were aware of at least the essence of her thoughts and cast baleful glances her direction.

Victor uncrossed his arms, rested one arm on the desk, and began tapping his index finger on the wood. After what seemed an eternity of this torture, he ceased tapping and at last spoke.

“I will settle with you later on all that has occurred, including your attempt on both my life and Ryan’s,” Victor said coldly, “but now is not the time.”

Aeron said nothing.

“My only concern right now is the safe return of my child,” Victor said, “and as you are the only one who has had contact with this woman who has taken her, I require your assistance.”

Still, Aeron said nothing. When Victor gave him a menacing look, he nodded stiffly.

“I will assist in any way I can.”

“Good,” Victor said, dismissing him.

Aeron was not ready to leave. “I have one request,” he said, the humiliation of having to ask straining him.

Victor merely stared at him. He did not wait for the request but responded to it instead. “I will consider it,” he said brusquely. He knew Aeron wanted to see his son.

Aeron realized it was the only answer he would receive at the moment, and at least it wasn’t “no.” He nodded, and quickly disappeared. Abigail watched his departure with interest. At last, she voiced her observation.

“He is completely in love with the girl,” she said.

Victor returned to the paperwork at his desk. “Yes,” he said, unconcerned, “he is.”

Abigail turned to him, a shrewd look on her face. “But then again, you knew that would happen.”

Victor did not look up. “Yes,” he said simply, “I did.”

Abigail smiled. She could concoct the most prolonged, elaborate, and convoluted scheme over centuries, and Victor Alexander would still be one step ahead of her. It was why she so adored him.

Victor glanced up from his paperwork, quite serious. “Ryan has accomplished more for our Kind in a few years than I have managed to do in centuries.” His tone was not self-incriminating, but rather matter-of-fact. “She is able to bring our Kind together in a way I am unable to because she is able to fill so many roles.” He thought of Aeron and Marilyn. “Whether that role is as a lover,” his thoughts shifted to Ala and Kusunoki, “or as a child,” he glanced over at Abigail with a meaningful expression, “or both–”

Abigail smoothed her skirt unapologetically.

“–she binds us all together,” Victor finished.

“Do you think that is why she was taken from us?” Abigail asked.

Victor began tapping his finger on the desk once more, the gesture unconscious. Abigail watched as dark thoughts flitted across his beautiful features.

“I don’t know,” he said finally, “I just don’t know.”

CHAPTER 24

RYAN FELT THE PAIN IN HER ARM race up to her shoulder then spread throughout her chest. It jerked her back into consciousness, wrapping ice-cold fingers around her heart and squeezing. She gasped as one drug reversed the effects of the one given to her previously.

She instinctively jerked her arm away from the man sitting next to her, and looked up to find Madelyn watching her. Ryan rubbed the injection site on the arm, glancing around.

She was in the back of a limousine seated next to one of Madelyn’s familiars. She had been blindfolded and bound when she had left her cell, but now her hands and legs were free, and she could obviously see. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious, which was apparently the point since she now had no concept of where she was. She could have been a hundred miles from her prison, she could be thousands.

Ryan eyed the needle the familiar replaced in an odd-looking medical case. The needle interested her because no normal needle could penetrate her skin, and this one appeared to do so easily. She wondered what material it was made from. The drug itself was a mystery because Ryan had never known any drug to affect her so, not even when she was human. The medical case also attracted her attention because it appeared ancient but simultaneously modern in its construction.

She filed each piece of information away, a small part of a puzzle that for the moment had no boundary and no apparent image to aid in arranging the pieces. She became aware of the unblinking scrutiny of the woman across from her. Although Madelyn could not read her thoughts, Ryan felt transparent to her most of the time. Even now, she felt Madelyn was entertained by her amateur sleuthing, as if Ryan were engaged in some sort of harmless child’s game.

Attempting to hide her despondency, Ryan looked out the window and instead felt it grow exponentially. She knew exactly where they were.

“I thought you would like to see your father,” Madelyn said with her uncanny precision. “I am certain he would like to see you.”

Without thinking, Ryan reached out to Victor. He was close, and she could feel his presence in a way she had not been able to in years.

“Ryan,” Madelyn said, threat in her voice, “you are forbidden to communicate in that manner. I will not tell you again.”

Ryan immediately shut down, but not before she could feel the Others reach out to her. They were all here, Abigail, Marilyn, Ala, Kusunoki, Edward, Susan, even Aeron. In a last, desperate message, she pleaded with Susan to hide her son. She then shut her mind completely.

Madelyn watched the girl, aware of the last-minute desperate communiqué, but not its contents. The girl would bear watching.

Victor stood on the steps of the estate, watching the limousines pull to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. They had moved from the Grand Council chambers, but their movements clearly were known.

Several men exited the forward and rear vehicles. These must be the familiars Aeron spoke of. He, too, sensed how strong they were, and noted their strange appearance and marked resemblance to one another. They moved with the lithe grace of their Kind, but in a brutally athletic way. Victor turned his attention to the center limousine.

A tall, dark-haired woman stepped from the opened door, and Victor knew this was Madelyn even had he not seen her in Abigail’s memories. Her presence was staggering, but in a clouded way, as if he could not grasp her full extent. She was strikingly beautiful, but Victor noted the peculiarities, the strange coldness at her center, as if she could reach out and touch him, freeze him immobile, then shatter him with a second touch. He noted the unnatural flow of her gait as she stepped to the side, but then his attention was completely redirected to the one stepping from the open door.