Blood Redemption (Blood Destiny #9) (26 page)

"Honey if your family is here, we'll find them. Surely they'll be happy to see you."

"We'll find out first, before we approach them." Norian herded me from our hotel room. We found a restaurant nearby and Norian ordered half a chicken, I think, but only ate part of it. As it turns out, we should have shared an order—neither of us did justice to our meal that night. Norian crawled into bed as lion snake and huddled against me, his head resting between my breasts the whole night. I did my best to reassure him, but I don't think either of us slept much.

* * *

"Those records are archived." That was the normal, bureaucratic answer we received the following morning when we asked about records from one hundred plus years before.

"How can we access them?" Norian asked. He didn't want to pull out his ASD badge, as this was unofficial business.

"Fill out an application, pay a fee and wait three days," came the bored response. The Phinerran didn't care and it showed. He was tall, thin and stiff, as if he'd been working the same job far too long.

"Is there a way to rush this through?" I asked.

"You have to get permission from the Director," tall and thin was getting snippy with us.

"Then take us to your director, and do it now," I laid compulsion quietly. Norian was sweating over this and I hoped I wouldn't have to pick him up and carry him out. That wouldn't raise any eyebrows. Uh-uh.

Tall and thin drew in a breath before leading us to an inner office. We found the Director speaking to someone on a communicator. "Ipsford, what is the meaning of this?" The Director grumbled as he terminated his call.

"You're going to help us out," I laid more compulsion. "We need to get into archived records and we need to see them now. We will be happy to pay the fees." Well, we didn't want Phinerris going broke because we circumvented their decidedly inconvenient, bureaucratic system.

"What are you waiting for, Ipsford, take them to the archival depository," the Director almost shouted at Ipsford. "And scan their credit chip while you're at it."

"Thank you," I nodded to the Director. "And you never saw us," I added. He offered a curt nod and went on with his work as if he hadn't seen us. Sometimes—not always but sometimes—compulsion did come in handy.

"Go back a hundred and twelve years," Norian was almost vibrating, whether from nerves, fear or both, I couldn't tell. I didn't want to point it out by asking him to calm down. I didn't need a freaked out lion snake in the city archives. That might be difficult to explain. We went through all the records of child abductions and disappearances for that year—twice. Then we went through the following year—twice. Nothing. I was worried and Norian was about to have a meltdown.

"Honey, calm down, we'll find them. If not here, then we'll go knocking on doors. I still have my nose, after all." I looked up at him—I was sitting in front of the computer; he was too anxious to sit. "Let's go backward instead of forward," I said, and went to one hundred thirteen years before.

"Honey, look—three abductions very close together." I pointed out each of the records. Three children, all taken from farms in the space of three days. Somebody wanted kids and wanted them fast. One child was seven, another five, and the last one was three.

"But none of the ages listed were my age," Norian muttered. He really was vibrating with nervous energy, now. I was worried that I might have to fold him out of there.

"Nori, they might have been wrong. Or something else might have happened. You know for sure that four was your age? You remember that part well?"

"I was four," Norian insisted.

"Honey, what about your name? None of these kids is listed as Norian."

"Norian wasn't my name, but I don't remember what my name was," he sighed and bumped a fist against his forehead. "All I remember is people calling me Keef. That's where my last name came from. They kept asking me my name and I kept saying Keef. The Norian part I got from the ASD—it belonged to the ship I was transported on. It was called
The
Norian Sind
, after an old king. It was a smuggling freighter and I never did learn where it was from."

"So, Keef could have been a nickname," I wanted to beat my own forehead but held off—Norian was upset enough as it was. I looked at the three names again. "I think we should check these out, Norian."

"Fine, but if they don't pan out, we'll be right back here, looking again." Norian sounded as if that might be the last thing he wanted to do. Honestly, I think he was ready to call it quits and have me get him out of there.

"Come on, honey, let's go check and see if any of these families are still around." I took the information with me and we went back to Ipsford.

After paying even more money to search current records while more compulsion was laid, of course, Norian and I had three addresses. I thought that boded well; the names were still the same as before, so these people were long-lived. Normal Phinerrans lived to be around a hundred and ten. These had to be older than that. I just didn't know how old.

"What are we going to tell them?" Norian was becoming more of a basket case as we went along.

"Honey, where's my Director of the ASD?" I asked gently.

"What?" Norian's fingers were tugging his hair. Tightly.

"Never mind. Let's go check this out," I said, and folded us to the first address.

We walked up a wide lane to a large farmhouse. Built of stone, it looked as if it had stood for hundreds of years, weathered just about everything and seemed prepared to weather even more. Wheat fields lay in the distance, surrounding several barns and outbuildings. I didn't see any domesticated animals, however. No dogs or an equivalent—no cattle, sheep or other animals. I figured I knew the reason; I couldn't imagine that any shapeshifter who turned into a snake got along well with other animals—none of which might understand they weren't in any danger.

An old-fashioned knocker was on the door, so I tapped it lightly and Norian and I stood outside, waiting. A woman answered the door. I'd convinced Norian to split the difference on the ages, and go for the five-year-old who'd disappeared.

"Hello," I said to the woman who answered the door. "My name is Lissa, and this is Norian," I nodded toward Norian, who was shaking slightly. "We're doing an investigation on the child disappearances more than a hundred years ago. We were wondering if there's anyone here who might remember anything about them." I knew right away that Norian wasn't related to this woman, but then we didn't know who she was.

"Oh, that was a sad thing, and still affects the family," the woman replied. "I'm just the housekeeper—the family is all out getting a harvest in. Do you have a card or any information?"

"We don't," I replied. Norian was sending desperate mindspeech—he didn't want to be connected to the ASD right then and he didn't want to frighten these people. "Do you think we might come back later? We can work around their schedule with no trouble."

"Do you think they might reopen the case?" The woman looked hopeful.

"Possibly," I nodded. Well, she was talking to the Director of the ASD, after all—and the Liaison—me. We could do some snooping, if it might reconcile some families.

"Then come back tonight after dinner—around eight bells, if that's all right."

"We'll be here," I agreed, and Norian and I left.

* * *

"Honey, you can't have a meltdown, I need you," I got Norian into a warm shower after folding us to the hotel. Norian just put his arms around me and squeezed. If I hadn't been vampire, he might have crushed a rib or two. I got him into bed for a short sleep and went out looking for something I could bring back for dinner. He was still asleep when I got back, so I left him like that for a while.

It was while we were eating cold sandwiches later that Norian told me something I should have thought out myself. "Breah-mul," he said, "the full moon here on Phinerris is tomorrow night. I'll have to make the turn, so you ought to get me somewhere so I won't give myself away."

"Honey, I forgot all about that," I admitted, chastising myself mentally. "Do you do what the werewolves do, and go out to hunt?"

"Sometimes, if I'm hungry. Usually I just wander around, or climb a tree or something. If anything threatens me, well, it could get bitten. That's why I stay away from people around that time."

 "Good to know—stay away from Norian on the full moon—check," I said.

"Deah-mul, I know not to harm you," he muttered. "I don't lose all my sense."

"Also good to know," I nodded. We got ready and went back out to the wheat farm we'd visited earlier. A man answered the door, and he was around three hundred years old, if my nose was correct. He didn't smell like Norian.

Not kin
, I sent to Norian, who did his best not to jerk at the sudden mindspeech. We spent a pleasant evening with the family of lion snake shapeshifters—none of whom were related to Norian. We talked about looking into the old files and trying to determine what happened to the children, just so there might be closure for the families.

They sounded hopeful. They also offered drinks and snacks, but Norian and I declined, leaving after two hours. We got all sorts of information on when the child from their family disappeared, only they made it sound as if it were their ancestors instead of immediate family. The mother seemed most hopeful. I think the father was resigned to the fact that he would never see his child again. I felt really bad for him. At least I knew where Toff was.

* * *

"That was useless," Norian was extremely disappointed, I could tell, as we got ready for bed.

"But did you see the hope in that mother's eyes—that she might see her son again someday? That gives
me
hope, Norian. Hope that if we do find your parents, that they'll be so glad and relieved to see you. That's what I hope for." I gave him a kiss.

"Lissa Beth, if you weren't here with me, I wouldn't have the courage to stay."

"Honey, we'll go out and check the younger child's parents tomorrow. Then you can find a place to snake around tomorrow night and if we don't find your relatives, we'll go see the last ones the following day."

"I know," Norian sat heavily on the bed.

* * *

"This is nice." I looked up at the tall, three-story, stone house. The first one we'd visited was spacious enough, but this was a manor. Like the other, it too was centuries old and built to last. The wood frames and shutters around the windows were freshly painted in a pale green, picking up a similar color in the stones. The manor was covered in a dark slate roof, with three chimneys jutting from the top. Flowers lined the perimeter of the house in wide flowerbeds, with hedged walkways to and from barns and outbuildings in the near distance. It was picturesque, no doubt about that. We knocked on the door and a woman who appeared to be another housekeeper opened it up to us.

"We were expecting you—the Silbars called us last night. Please come in," she said and motioned us inside. We were led into what looked like a library on the first floor at the back of the house, and there was a man there, waiting on us. I drew in a breath, recognizing his scent, just as my skin itched furiously and he drew a laser pistol from behind his back and fired.

Chapter 12
 

I had Norian turned to mist in a blink and the laser blast went right through us. I was so angry I might have taken our assailant's head off when I materialized, but I held myself back, knocking the pistol from his hand first and then tossing him into a wall and holding him there.

"You stupid ass, you almost killed your brother," I hissed in his ear—the one that wasn't making a dent in the library wall, that is.

"My brother is dead," he managed to mumble. Yeah, I had him crunched up against the wall pretty good. The painted surface was going to have an imprint of his body in it when I let him go, I think.

"You sound so fucking sure of yourself," I countered. "Where are your parents?"

"Out in the field, supervising the harvest. I took the communication last night. Do you know how many false reports we've gotten over the years? People saying they had information, only they wanted money. At first we paid. I've made sure the last few that came didn't get out of here alive." Well, that was fine and good, provided he wasn't killing the innocent. I jerked him away from the wall, practically threw him into a chair and stood in front of him with my arms crossed angrily over my chest.

"Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you might be in, if you'd harmed either of us?" I snapped at him. Good heavens, he even looked like Norian. It made me wonder what his parents looked like.

"None, if I buried the bodies in the right place." Yeah, he was about to make the turn, looked like.

"Norian, I think you're going to have to convince your brother, here, that he doesn't need to bite either of us," I said, looking from homicidal sibling to Norian and back again.

Norian was staring, unable to move. I think his mouth was open, too. I reached over and tapped the underside of his chin. He closed his mouth. "This is my brother? Reedy?" He was looking closely at his brother, as if he were looking for something familiar.

"Don't give me that," Reedy, if that was his name, hissed. Yeah, it was too close to the full moon and the snake wanted to take over.