Updrift (22 page)

“Makes sense. I’ll call Kenna’s assistant and see if they can squeeze us in.” He exited the room dialing a number on his cell phone.

“How much time do you two have left here?” John inquired.

Kate was gleeful. “I have three more weeks off!” She sat on Gabe’s lap and craned her neck to address him. “And I have no idea what you had planned before I so rudely changed the course of your life last week but I should tell you I don’t really care.” She picked an apple out of the bowl on the table in front of her and bit into it.

Gabe nuzzled her neck and laughed. “Not that it bothers me but you’ve got everything backward, Kate. If you recall,
I
asked
you
to meet
me,
and then hauled you into the water to make sure you wouldn’t get away.” He faced John. “I’m enrolled at UNC Medical next fall, and I thought I’d lurk around and try to fast-talk Kate into hanging with me for the rest of her life. I overestimated how much time it would take.” He smirked at Kate. “I had no idea you’d be so easy…” Kate shoved him playfully and tried to rise from his lap but he held her fast.

“Really, I have some studying to do though I expect I’ll be playing house-husband and helping Kate with the baby for a little while.” Cara stilled

“Kate’s going to be pregnant.” She seemed more shocked than happy; although Kate was gratified she looked generally pleased. She herself had forgotten about this particular consequence of their tryst and felt a sensation like stage fright settle just north of her stomach. She smiled nervously at everyone around her. Gabe squeezed her.

Michael reentered the room with the announcement Kenna would see them on Friday afternoon. “I told her about Gabe and Kate, and she insisted they come along so she can offer her congratulations in person.”

Kate grimaced at the prospect of giving up an entire afternoon away, and Gabe didn’t appear any more pleased than she was. She had the feeling once the outside world was allowed to enter, it would intrude too much, maybe compromise their happy intimacy. She acquiesced, however, knowing the meeting was important to their parents. Gabe accepted for them.

“I know Kenna’s invitation in an honor, Dad. Of course we’ll go.” He sounded polite if not actually happy.

Michael clapped his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Responsibilities, Gabe.” Then, softening a little, he added, “It’ll just be for a few hours, and then you kids can be back on your own.”

Peter Loughlin could acknowledge his strange childhood without self-pity. Heavens, so many people came from impossible circumstances and made good, he had no business lamenting how he’d missed his mother, who was, in any case, always around. The fault wasn’t even hers; she was a queen, and her time—her very body—was not hers to manage.

He’d been given the privileged upbringing of all royal children, which included the requisite nursemaid, dedicated governess and a host of tutors pre-eminent in their fields to school him. What he’d been denied was what he’d longed for most, and that was time with Kenna.

When he was little, his mother was primarily a shining, ephemeral idea to him, her company only achieved with diligent effort or good behavior. Then, when he’d received good marks in school or dominated in some sporting event, his mother visited his quarters to congratulate him. He would never forget his feelings of anticipation and fear prior to her visits, or the fuss and ado from his attendants who groomed and chided him during their anxious preparations.

When he was very small, he remembered being sent out onto a ballroom floor to wish his mother goodnight during some formal reception she hosted. The gesture was political, encouraged so the guests could see first-hand the endearing bond between their queen and her son. His reluctance became terror, however, when he realized he didn’t know which one she was; after considering the expectant smiles of a dozen or so women around him, he ran into the arms of one he thought might be her. She was so kind and soothing as she carried him, and he buried his face in her neck with gratitude.

“I don’t want you to fret even a little bit about this, darling boy,” she’d whispered in his ear. “I’m taking you right to your mother, and I think you’re very brave to come out here all by yourself.” By the time she finished talking to him, they’d arrived before his mother, who graciously accepted him onto her lap to the indulgent, charmed titters of the guests. The next day, his caregivers placed a photograph of his mother in the nursery so such a mishap could be avoided in the future.

As he got older, Peter gained insight into his mother’s structured life by watching other royals, and he came to understand why he so rarely saw her. When he was thirteen, his mother’s sister, who was close in line to the throne and heavily involved in matters of state, gave birth to a daughter. Following a few short hours after the delivery, where mother and baby were sequestered in his aunt’s private chambers, a wet nurse came and took the little princess away. Thereafter, his aunt visited her daughter daily for brief periods of time during her first six months of life, and less frequently afterward. Peter surmised his own birth and infancy had been much the same.

He never knew his father, or even had any idea as to who he was. This was by design; in order not to show favoritism, Kenna had chosen an anonymous mate, thereby denying the conference of power or lineage to any faction over another outside the castle. Peter also learned his parents had never bonded in the traditional way, again, in order to protect the balance of power. Even when he was young, he knew this to be nearly impossible among his kind.

He never learned exactly how his parents accomplished their union, but by the time he was an adult, he’d developed a plausible theory. His best guess was his mother and father were drugged, albeit consensually. He came to this conclusion by observing Kenna in various public situations over the years, and while he would never know definitively the circumstances of his conception, he became confident in his eventual hypothesis.

His primary rationale came from what he saw of his mother in emotionally provocative circumstances. Before a meeting involving contentious issues, Kenna and her doctor retired to her chambers for fifteen minutes, after which, Kenna emerged with the serene, vague expression that characterized, as far as Peter could tell, only active rulers in the aristocracy. Calm detachment in the face of emotional stimulation was antithetical to siren nature, although the royal class unilaterally adhered to this difficult standard. He knew, from his own experience and by comparing sirens with humans, his race was passionate and over-sensitive; and he knew of no means by which this nature could be sublimated other than sedation. As no other viable explanation existed, Peter accepted it as truth.

Over the years, Peter persisted in the habits he’d formed when he was too young to judge them, which meant trying to meet the high expectations of him by his caregivers and the court. He surpassed everyone’s hopes for him, and, at each triumph, was rewarded by a brief visit from his mother, who lavished praise on him and encouraged him to continue his efforts. He didn’t understand his disappointment after she left until he was much older, when he realized he felt cheated by this reward system; the visits were a weak consolation for what he really wanted, which was to be taken into his mother’s arms, to be petted and held by her. He wanted her to ask him about his day, about what he’d had for lunch, or about his friends at school.

He wanted her to take an interest in him.

His only access to her, however, remained formal visits following some accomplishment, and as unfulfilling as these visits were, they were all he had. He continued to excel.

The constant emotional deprivation he felt growing up fostered another side effect, one he appreciated above all others: his cloaking ability. He’d shown natural signs he could cloak, even as an infant, when caregivers remarked on his charming propensity to appear briefly as whichever sea creature he dreamt of during his sleep. As a child, he used it as a coping mechanism against the constant pressures from his governess and tutors to reflect perfect behavior and academic discipline. As he learned to project new outward images, he also learned to hide any internal thoughts and feelings suggesting softness or failure.

By the time he reached his mid-teens, his intuitive abilities had become the only retreat he had where he was truly free to relax and govern himself. With no other emotional avenues available to him, he focused his prodigious powers of concentration ever inward, resulting in an intense and constant exploration of ways to both be and appear worthy of love. His need drove his abilities until he far surpassed the understanding of those around him and their knowledge of what it meant to cloak. He began to hide himself from time to time with such skill no one, not even those in the castle with the world’s most vaunted intuitive skills, could find him. He could even do better than this but he saved such knowledge for himself, unwilling to have it exposed to the clinical dissection of his overseers. His beauty, strength, and superior social and academic skills protected him from over-scrutiny.

Much, much later, when he was a statesman himself and assisting his mother in her day-to-day governmental duties, he was finally granted the time with her he’d craved as a little boy. He came to understand then the tremendous toll her duties had taken on her, and while this understanding did not eliminate his sense of loss, he was able to forgive her for abandoning him as an infant. The sad irony of this revelation was it didn’t really alleviate either of their suffering, Peter’s at having been denied his mother’s attention, and Kenna’s at inflicting the separation and denying her own need to mother him. His forgiveness did nothing to help her, as he knew Kenna would never, never forgive herself, despite her belief she had done the right thing. Avoidance of this constant knowledge, via her medications, was Kenna’s sole escape from this particular grief, he believed.

Peter’s cloaking skills protected him on this front, as well. As tortured as he felt at times, he did not devolve into the idiosyncrasies—or pathologies, in some cases—afflicting many in the aristocracy, because his intuition let him know in the clearest of terms emotional fulfillment was out there to be had. He never doubted the prevalence of nurturing love among his people, believing he had only to reach the right age or achieve a specific cadre of accomplishments before the opportunity would be his. He could see and feel it all around him, had been given it in small doses, and, as with every other endeavor, he had only to apply himself to find the path that would lead him to it.

Everyone enjoyed the stroll to the Loughlin estate despite it being nearly an hour away on foot. Kate didn’t mind, though; the island was beautiful, the weather ideal, and they were relatively unencumbered, since they’d left John, Cara and Everett at the beach. Here on Shaddox, Everett had siren playmates, which she knew was a rare treat for him and a particular relief for his parents. John and Cara usually had to be careful due to Everett’s low capacity for subterfuge, but not here.

The palace was at the exact center of the island, and it resembled a stereotypical stone castle with a couple of significant exceptions, which Michael described to them as they advanced. The structure surrounded an inland, salt-water lake, which circulated to and from the ocean via underground tunnels. The tunnels themselves formed half of the palace, widening into rooms containing offices, entertaining spaces and recreation areas for inhabitants and guests to indulge in their alternative natures during visits. The rooms also contained exit tunnels to the ocean surrounding the island; so theoretically, anyone could enter or leave the palace at will underwater.

“That sounds like a security problem to me,” Kate commented.

Michael went on to explain security wasn’t the issue for sirens it was for humans, as she would see; because of their ability to sense thoughts and feelings, the palace staff didn’t need complicated systems in place to catch deviants, and anyone with ill motives knew better than to try and enter, because their intentions would be immediately known. The most serious security measure the royal family undertook was to hire sirens who were particularly gifted at reading others, and they reputedly had the best staff on earth for this purpose. They arrived on the palace grounds just as Michael completed his overview.

They approached via an expansive courtyard formally landscaped with low boxwood hedges defining clean, geometric spaces filled with tropical flowers of every color.

“I wish my mother could see this,” she reflected aloud. They saw the palace ahead. “I’m a little nervous,” she confessed so Gabe alone could hear her.

He squeezed her hand as they entered the atrium leading to the palace offices. Michael and Carmen led while she and Gabe trailed behind, looking around them with caution as they advanced. Kate silently begged Gabe for his calming influence.

“No problem,” Gabe replied in a low voice. “I’m nervous too. I’ve never been this far inside the compound, only out in the main hall.”

She was surprised enough to stop walking. “You’ve never met the Loughlins?”

“I’ve been in their private company before, but we’ve never conversed. And I’ve never been to their offices on Shaddox. My parents have been advisors to their family since my mother began managing birth and marriage records, and I’ve only been on the island when she’s reported or made recommendations.” Gabe leaned down so only she could hear him. “But I can tell you, I’m pretty sure they’re nuts.”

“Why do you think so?” she whispered.

Gabe shrugged. “It’s just a feeling I get. Peter’s got some amazing talents, making him difficult to read. I’ll tell you about him later. But see if you don’t feel the same way after you’ve met them.”

They stopped in a foyer outside a set of ornate double doors and waited while an aide went in to announce them. Kate thought everyone seemed on edge, which made her feel like less of a rube. No one spoke.

When the double doors opened, the couple Kate thought had so rudely intruded at Luke and Solange’s wedding appeared before them, and they were just as regal and austere as she remembered. Able to watch while they greeted the elder Blakes, she examined their faces for signs of Gabe’s diagnosis. Kenna, she saw, wore the withdrawn, unfocused expression of someone who was not fully paying attention. Her manner also suggested she was deeply distracted.