Blood Legacy Origin of Species (28 page)

“Ugh,” Petrus said, “you wound me.”

“No, but I wish I could.”

“So what do you think happened to your friends?” the creature asked slyly.

“I don’t know,” Ryan said, growing somber, “the best case scenario is that they have been captured.”

“And the worst?”

“They’re dead.”

“And which do you think is correct?”

“I believe they’ve been captured, because I think I would sense if they had been killed.”

“And just why do think they’ve been captured?”

Ryan was silent for a long moment. “Probably a strategy to get to me.”

“And yet here you are, hiding in the basement.”

The words sliced through her, cutting no less deeply even though she agreed with them. She rubbed her forehead with her fingers.

Tra’e’ela watched the prisoner through the thick wall. It appeared as rock within the cell but transparent on the other side. The prisoner sat calmly, doing something with a piece of fabric, a thin metal object, and some sort of thread. She sat doing this for hours in a mesmerizing, repetitive fashion, often causing her guards to fixate on her as if hypnotized.

This one intrigued Tra’e’ela but she was not certain why. She could not remember this prisoner’s origins, although she was clearly as old as some of the first they had transformed. The captive did not seem significantly more powerful than the others they had captured. Perhaps it was the archetype of elder female that played a role, the matriarchal image so powerful in their culture that Tra’e’ela was projecting it on to this one.

This explanation did not completely satisfy her, and her disquiet continued. That disquiet actually increased when it seemed the prisoner paused in her needlework, slowly raised her gaze, and appeared to look right through the wall into Tra’e’ela’s eyes, a slight smile on her lips. It was the briefest of contact and could have been pure coincidence, luck. The woman returned to her task, an expression of quiet contentment on her features.

Tra’e’ela stared at the woman long after she returned to her needlework.

BLOOD LEGACY

CHAPTER 20

JASON HELD DRAKE IN HIS LAP while the younger boy pressed against him, sleeping. He tried to tell himself that he was fine, but he missed his mother and he missed Ryan. He felt safe with Victor, and he knew that Drake’s father would protect him as well, but something about Ryan’s presence always comforted him, even as sick as she had been lately.

Drake shifted in his lap and flung an arm about his neck, smacking him in the cheek. Jason winced. Drake was incredibly strong, almost as strong as him even though he was so much younger. Jason felt very protective of the smaller boy. He had always wanted a brother but didn’t think he was going to get one because he had no dad. But then Drake had come into his life and everything seemed complete. He had his mother, he had Ryan, and he had his little brother.

Jason sighed. But now it seemed all messed up again. Ryan was sick, Marilyn was gone, and Kusunoki was not around to give him the sword lessons he promised. Jason glanced around. The bunker had been cool enough for a while, with all its hiding places and spaces to run about and play. But he and Drake grew bored as the days went by, trying to entertain themselves with chess, movies, and video games.

Drake stirred, then awoke. He sat up, stretching, a perturbed look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Jason asked.

“Someone’s coming.”

Jason grew very cold. Drake did not make pronouncements like this very often, but he was never wrong.

“We should hide.”

Jason snatched Drake up and darted for the door. The two had discussed this exact scenario, although it was more fanciful than anything else at the time. But they had agreed there was a most excellent hiding place off the great room, a small space that was hardly even a closet, the entrance completely hidden if one didn’t know it was there.

They scrambled down the hallway, now hearing signs of struggle off in the distance. It seemed very violent with crashing and explosions echoing down the rock passages. They reached the great room, sprinted across its width, then scrambled to find the hidden closet. Drake found the latch first, and the wall slid open, revealing the small space. They ducked inside.

The blue-eyed man was still struggling violently when he was dragged before Tra’e’ela. She normally would not lower herself to such mundane missions, but these were too high-value of targets for her to leave the results to chance or to her imbecilic cohorts.

She studied him as he was held captive in front of her. He was still a magnificent specimen, ice blue eyes, a haughty demeanor, his chiseled features set arrogantly in fierce resistance. She assessed him curiously, but there was no corresponding recognition in his eyes. That was just as well, no sense in complicating things

The second captive was dragged in, he, too, struggling fiercely. He actually appeared to get the upper hand on his captors, throwing one into the wall with such force a hairline crack appeared on the rock surface. He was quickly subdued by pure numbers, giving Tra’e’ela the opportunity to examine him as well.

He calmed himself, relinquishing his struggle, and turned to examine her in kind. He was extraordinarily handsome for these creatures, dark hair and dark eyes with just a nagging hint of familiarity to his features. Tra’e’ela determined that it was his mouth, perfect in shape and form, that reminded her of someone, she just could not place who. He was also very powerful, at least for this species, and although not particularly powerful for hers, there was something compelling about him. She had always wondered why he was the “ground zero” transformation on this planet and why so much effort had been placed on finding him suitable companionship, but perhaps now she understood. She could see his genetic potential, as even now he seemed able to stand against those who should be able to squash him. She knew of many females who would be willing to experiment with such genetic viability.

Victor could not read her thoughts, but absorbed the general gist of them. He had no idea how Ryan had survived direct contact with them.

“And where is your grandson, Victor Alexander?”

The perfect, unaccented English surprised him. He composed his features into inscrutability, hoping Ryan was correct in that they could not read his thoughts.

“He’s gone,” Victor said simply.

Tra’e’ela laughed, a short harsh sound. “Although I cannot read your thoughts, I am very good at identifying deception,” she said, “not to mention the fact that I sense the little one not far from here.”

“Take them above ground,” she ordered, “and I will join you shortly.”

Jason huddled in the dark with Drake pressed against his side. Drake jerked as if shocked, the inadvertent movement startling them both.

“They know I’m here,” the little boy said.

Jason felt for him in the darkness. “Don’t be silly,” he said, “they won’t find us if we stay hidden.”

Drake desperately wanted to believe Jason’s words, but he knew more than Jason knew.

“No,” Drake said, “they’re going to find me, I know it. But if I leave you here, they won’t find you.”

Jason squared his jaw and pulled the small boy to him. “I’m not leaving you,” he said firmly.

Drake desperately wanted to push him away, but even more, he wanted to pull him close. He clung to his friend, his brother, his constant companion, knowing that he had just doomed them both.

Tra’e’ela stood before the hidden door as it slid sideways. The small one was tucked into the tiny space as she suspected, but she was surprised to find a human boy in there as well. She reached in and grabbed the dark-haired one by his collar, hauling him out by the scruff of his neck.

She dangled the creature before her, noting that he possessed the same striking blue eyes as his male biological parent, and the coloring of his maternal grandfather. He also possessed that same perfect mouth, the oddly familiar one that she could not quite place. He had the same charisma of his grandfather, a compelling magnetism that seemed incongruous with his relatively low-level power and abilities. He gazed at her with the fearlessness she generally associated with the unintelligent or ignorant, but he, despite his young age, seemed neither.

She glanced into the hole in the wall. Here was the counterbalance to that ridiculous fearlessness. This species wasted entirely too much effort protecting the vulnerable among them, creating an easily exploitable weakness. She motioned and one of her soldiers dragged the red-haired boy from the closet. She was impressed that, despite his clear inferiority, he, too, was belligerent.

The blonde-haired woman stared into his eyes and Drake calmed himself immediately. He clearly understood the implied threat to his friend, and when she set him on his feet, he stood at her side obediently. She glanced down at him, amused, thinking that he would also provide prime genetic material when he was of age, and when she walked from the room, he followed in her footsteps.

Victor was sedated during his transport, deemed far too dangerous a prisoner to be left conscious. When he awoke, he was in a solid rock cell with Abigail.

They are watching, Abigail communicated to him wordlessly.

He glanced about him, trying to identify a camera or any type of surveillance system.

The walls themselves are transparent from one side, she said silently, seemingly occupied with her needlework.

Victor controlled his urge to look directly at the wall. He instead engaged himself in a prolonged examination of her current creation. This might have seemed odd to the guards were they themselves not so preoccupied with the same activity.

Is Ryan still free? Abigail asked.

Yes, Victor responded, but they have taken both Aeron and Drake. Ryan will not stay hidden when it becomes apparent they have captured her son.

How long? Abigail asked, poking the needle into the canvas.

A few days, Victor responded, no longer.

Tra’e’ela sat in her chambers, satisfied with her progress thus far. The primary target had eluded her, but she had set out multiple snares as well as the containment that was closing in on her. And just in case, there were a few wild cards she had left out there to deal with the unexpected.

The door opened and her servant brought the little one in as she requested. He gazed at her somberly, his blue eyes almost as dark as hers. She motioned for her servant to depart, and he handed her the boy.

Drake sat upon her lap uncertainly.

“Do you know where your mother is?” she asked.

Drake shook his head.

Tra’e’ela assessed the truthfulness of the response, and deemed it valid.

“Will she come for you?”

Drake thought about this for a long moment. “Yes,” he said at last.

“Good,” the woman replied, “that will make my job easier.”

“What is your job?” the little boy asked, his boldness startling her. What startled her even more was that his gaze lingered on her lips in an almost sensual manner, and that he seemed completely unaware of this act. He reminded her of the Ajeo, a beautiful and artistic race of people so sexually desirable they went immediately extinct upon discovery due to the brutal and humiliating slavery that was thrust upon them. But he seemed to possess none of the weakness or vulnerability of that species.

She did not wish to answer his question and therefore did not. Instead, she asked another question of her own, curious at his response.

“What would happen to me if I harmed you?”

The boy did not have to think about his reply. It was simple, direct, and unequivocal.

“Ryan would kill you.”

This amused the blonde-haired woman and she sought to pursue the line of questioning further.

“And what would happen if I harmed Ryan?”

If possible, the boy’s answer was even more direct and unequivocal.

“Then Ryan’s grandmother would kill you.”

The answer surprised Tra’e’ela. She had expected threats regarding the boy’s grandfather or father. She had no idea who the girl’s grandmother could be, and she had received no orders in regards to this person. Perhaps this was a fantasy creation of the youngster. Still, his absolute certainty was unnerving.

“And who is Ryan’s grandmother?”

Drake smiled to himself. The creature who had taken him, the one who threatened Jason, the one who had captured his grandfather, his father, and now sought to capture his mother...

She did not know.

Drake remained silent and his silence, especially coming from one so young, stirred a bit of anger in her. She, in turn, allowed her gaze to linger on his lips, something that from Marilyn or Ala or Kusunoki would cause him no concern, but from this one created unease.

“I have to stay here until you are grown,” she commented, “so perhaps you and I will revisit this moment when you are of age.”

Drake was not certain how to interpret her words, but in a wisdom that far exceeded his youth, he maintained his silence.