Blood Legacy: Heir to the Throne (27 page)

Ryan sat upright, groaning from the pain the effort caused her. She glanced around the room and her heart fell. She was still in Madelyn’s chambers, which meant that Susan was there as well. She turned back to the younger woman. Fear, concern, and remorse flitted across Susan’s features, and it was the remorse that caused Ryan the greatest concern.

“You are here,” Ryan said, her distress at the fact obvious.

Susan lowered her eyes, close to tears. “It is worse than that.”

Ryan shifted on the couch, moving into an upright position. She swung her legs to the floor and reached out to Susan. The movement caused her to grimace in pain, and Susan took the hand that faltered in its reach. Susan looked at her and Ryan did not want to hear the words she knew were coming.

She did not have to because Madelyn entered, removing all doubt as to the cause of Susan’s anguish. Ryan turned to the dark-haired woman, who gracefully stepped down into the room holding her son. Ryan’s gaze settled on the blue-eyed boy, and she could not help but reach out to mentally touch him.

“Ryan,” Madelyn said with warning.

Ryan stood upright, ignoring the pain racing through her system. “He is a child, and he cannot speak. It is the only way I have of comforting him.” Ryan knew she was almost pleading, “I hardly see the harm in it.”

Madelyn approached Ryan, holding the toddler in her arms. Drake watched his mother somberly, knowing something was terribly wrong. Ryan desperately tried to calm her own emotions to keep from upsetting him.

Madelyn glanced down at the boy, brushing his dark hair. Ryan wanted to reach out and wrench him from her grasp. Madelyn turned her attention back to Ryan, holding her gaze for a long moment, then allowing her eyes to drift to the bruises on her throat. Very slowly and very deliberately, she handed the boy to Ryan.

Ryan clutched her son to her chest. She understood fully the lesson she had just been given. But lest there be any confusion, Madelyn placed a finger beneath Ryan’s chin, forcing her to look up at her. They were very close to one another, with Madelyn’s lips nearly brushing her cheek.

“I do not expect any more trouble from you,” Madelyn said. She did not bother to acknowledge Susan’s presence but turned on her heel and left, disappearing into her inner chamber.

Ryan could no longer stand upright, and Susan grasped her elbow, helping her back to the divan. Ryan held Drake tightly to her chest, who for his part was so happy to see his mother that for the moment, nothing else mattered.

“I am so sorry, Ryan,” Susan began.

“It is not your fault,” Ryan said tiredly. “How did this happen?”

Susan shook her head. “I am not certain. I was at the estate protected by all of the Old Ones. And yet Madelyn’s men appeared, almost as if they materialized out of nowhere. Suddenly,” she paused, at a loss, “they were just there.”

Ryan cradled her son. “And then how did you get here?”

Susan was again uncertain. “I think I must have blacked out, because I don’t remember anything. All of a sudden, I was in a large, rock room. Madelyn took Drake from me, and then I was escorted here.” Susan looked at her. “I am so sorry, Ryan,” she repeated.

“Don’t be,” Ryan replied. “this is my fault.” She held up Drake, examining him to make certain he had come to no harm. He bore the inspection patiently, as if sensing his mother’s distress. He laid his head back down on her chest when she was finished. “You were brought here to keep me in check,” Ryan said, sighing. “I went on a little rampage the other day, and ended up killing several men before Madelyn stopped me.”

“You were able to kill them?” Susan asked in surprise. This gave her great hope. Ryan had not succeeded in killing either her father or Aeron, yet from what she had just said, was able to kill her much stronger captors.

Ryan nodded. “I am as surprised as you. They have weapons, swords, the like of which I have never seen before. They are deadly and I am certain they could kill me as well.” Ryan shrugged. “That is of no matter, Madelyn could kill me at any time.”

It was strange to hear Ryan speak so, because Susan knew her only as an immortal. She had watched Ryan recover from extraordinary injuries, and had watched both Victor and Aeron literally come back from the dead. Yet now Ryan was talking casually of her own death.

“I have not seen any firearms,” Ryan said, still musing on the arsenal, “which surprises me. It would seem they could construct an equally deadly gun with bullets of this material.” Her expression darkened. “Wouldn’t I like to get my hands on that.”

“Maybe that’s why they don’t carry them,” Susan said, “maybe they are more afraid of you getting your hands on an equalizer.”

“I don’t think they are afraid of me at all,” Ryan said, laying her head back into the cushions. Her eyelids grew heavy. “Forgive me if I fall asleep on you.”

Ryan quickly fell back into her exhausted sleep and Drake followed her example. Susan watched the two beautiful creatures sleeping and a great sadness settled over her. Ryan hardly looked old enough to have a child, but her youthful appearance made the similarity between her and her son even more striking. She leaned forward to brush Drake’s hair from his eyes, then slowly, hesitantly, did the same for Ryan.

Susan became aware that her affectionate gesture was under intense scrutiny. She glanced up. Madelyn was standing just outside the doors to her inner chamber, a malevolent look on her face. Susan very slowly withdrew her hand and sat back. Madelyn watched her a minute longer, then moved down the steps, leaving the chamber.

Susan stared at the recently vacated doorway, then at the double doors at the top of the steps in the center of the room. She turned her attention back to Ryan, who was soundly sleeping.

Susan was going to side with Victor on this matter. There was much beneath the surface here between Madelyn and Ryan that Ryan did not see.

CHAPTER 28

MARILYN WATCHED VICTOR CLOSELY. Normally she would just be content to examine his perfect features, the sensual mouth, the long dark eyelashes, the strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. Today, she was waiting for him to explode.

“How is it,” he asked, “that my grandson and Dr. Ryerson simply disappeared?”

Marilyn turned toward the door where the youngster stood. Jason was bravely trying to control himself. Not only were his mother and his friend gone, he was the only witness to their disappearance. And he was terribly afraid of the furious dark-haired man.

Victor realized he was terrifying the child. He forcibly calmed himself and gestured for the boy to approach him. Abigail, seated at Victor’s right, mentally reached out to the boy and soothed him. Victor became aware he was towering over the boy, and sat down so he was closer to eye level.

“Can you tell me what you saw, Jason?” Victor asked.

Jason nodded, trying to still the trembling of his lip. He clasped his hands together so they would stop shaking.

“My mom was holding Drake in the courtyard. I was standing a few feet away. There wasn’t really anyone else around.” Jason replayed the scene in his mind, trying to make sense of it. “It was just the three of us, and then, out of nowhere, there were a lot of those strange men.”

Victor glanced over at Abigail. It was possible that Madelyn’s men could move so quickly that Jason would be unable to see them. “Please go on.”

Jason struggled to hold back his tears, but one slipped out and ran down his cheek. “My mom started to run toward me, but they grabbed her. She screamed at me to run, and then the next thing I knew, they all were gone.”

“And she was still holding Drake?” Abigail asked.

“Yes,” Jason said, completely breaking down. Great, wrenching sobs shook his small frame. “Drake is gone, too.”

Victor realized the boy not only missed his mother, but was traumatized by the loss of Drake as well. He nodded to Edward, who stepped forward to comfort the young man. Edward took Jason by the hand and led him from the room.

Victor sat down, pushing back in his chair. His expression was grim. “Once again I was unable to feel their presence, neither coming nor going.”

“I did not feel anything, either,” Abigail admitted. “Merely Drake’s presence, and then his sudden absence.”

Victor nodded his agreement, eyeing Marilyn for confirmation. She also nodded, confirming the experience.

“I was surprised,” Abigail added, “at the suddenness of that absence. As if in one instant he was here, and the next he was gone.” She glanced down at the envelope Edward had handed her on his way out. “Edward left this for you.”

Victor took the envelope from the matriarch. It was not unusual for their Kind to eschew the modern conveniences of cellular telephones, email, and fax machines in favor of more ancient and meaningful forms of communication. He turned the envelope over in his hands. The envelope was heavy and the paper smooth, possessing a quality not found in even the most expensive manufactured papers. He glanced at the seal in surprise, and opened the envelope. He removed the letter, which was no more than a few lines. It was innocuous, really nothing more than a greeting and a wish for continued health. It was the fact that Victor had received the letter at all that stunned him.

“Something significant?” Abigail asked.

“Just greetings,” Victor replied, his gaze suddenly distant, “from a very old friend.”

The massive cannon discharged with a great explosion and the cannonball went hurtling toward the outer walls of Constantinople. It struck solidly, the collision causing brick and stone to fly in all directions. A large section of the wall crumbled inward.

Ryan’s horse shifted nervously on the hill overlooking the great city. She stared at the great war machine with some misgivings.

“I don’t think my armor will protect me against that.”

“No,” Victor agreed, “best to stay out of the way of something like that.”

Ryan eyed the great gaping hole left in the wall. There were already workers scrambling to repair the damage.

“It must take some time to reload if they are confident enough to rebuild,” she commented.

Victor, too, eyed the immediate repair crew. “That, and they probably don’t have a choice.”

There was resignation in his tone and a sense of sadness as well. Months of siege had left the beautiful city in ruins. A marvel of architecture and technology, parts of it were now little more than rubble. The stench of death and sewage hung heavy in the air, obscured only slightly by the smoke from the burning fires.

Ryan kneed her horse away from the battlefield. She knew Victor would remain on the hill awhile, assessing his course of action. “I will go make camp,” she said over her shoulder.

Ryan found a small oasis some distance from the battlefield and watered the horses. It seemed as good a place as any to camp, and she expertly set up the tent in minutes. Since there was little else to do, she settled down by the campfire to wait for Victor. She closed her eyes, enjoying the heat from the flames. Although the days were temperate, she had the feeling the night would be very cold.

She reopened her eyes, having the disquieting sensation she was being watched. It was not yet dark, and she could clearly see in even the dimmest light with her preternatural vision.

There was a man standing on the ledge above her. He was dressed in the flowing robes and headdress of the Ottoman empire, but Ryan did not sense any danger from him. He was swarthy and handsome, and he was examining her as openly as she was examining him. She stood and took a step toward him, and he took exactly one step back.

Ryan cocked her head to one side, curious, and the man smiled, revealing beautiful white teeth that contrasted with his dark skin. Ryan took another, experimental step, and the man again took one step backward.

And then the chase was on. Ryan scrambled up the hillside with incredible speed, only to find the man had traveled the exact same distance and now waited for her on another hill. She broke into a sprint, but somehow the flowing robes always maintained the separation, tantalizingly close, yet out-of-reach. Ryan stopped, and the man stopped. Ryan walked, and the man walked. Ryan ran, and impossibly, the man kept pace with her. She could swear laughter drifted back to her, not mocking, but full of delight, as if simply enjoying the game.

Finally, the man disappeared, and Ryan slowly approached the place she had last seen him. It was a great hillside, at the bottom of which was a stone entryway. She eyed the hillside, noting that it looked somewhat like an ancient tomb, then looked back the way she came. She had traveled a great distance from the camp and she had left without a weapon. Somehow she did not think she would need one.