Blood Legacy Origin of Species (6 page)

Susan walked in as Victor responded.

“It seems you went out for a walk, then were a little resistant when I tried to bring you back.”

Ryan felt the stirrings of despair and more than a little frustration. “What exactly did I do?”

Victor was uncertain, but because of his own fierce predatory nature could not help but find a degree of humor in the events. “I’m not completely sure, but I think you were going to try and eat me.”

“Oh dear god,” Ryan said, hiding her face in her hands, “I thought I’d gotten that out of my system.”

“How are you feeling now?” Susan asked, moving to her side. She placed her hand on Ryan’s forehead, noting that Ryan’s skin temperature had returned to normal. She also noted that her iris color had returned to a more typical hazel. Ryan’s eyes often shifted color with her mood, but Susan had never seen them maroon before.

“I feel fine,” Ryan said. “Still a little tired, but nothing extreme.”

“Hmm,” Susan said. “Your blood work is coming back completely routine.” She stopped and clarified. “Well, routine for you. And Victor doesn’t seem to have had any ill effects from your contact.”

Ryan sat upright. “What contact?”

“One of your blows split the skin here,” Victor said, fingering his collar bone, “causing me to bleed.”

The implication was obvious to Ryan, especially if she had been as out-of-control as described. “I took your blood?”

“Barely,” Victor said, thinking back to the strange encounter. “The minute your lips touched my blood, you jerked back as if you had been electrocuted.”

As he said that, a disjointed series of visions rushed through Ryan’s head. The deformed creatures standing in the shadows watching her, the monstrous tentacles clutching her torso and pulling her downward, the shower of blood that blocked out all light then ran down her throat, suffocating her with pleasure. There seemed to be something else there, some other story she couldn’t quite remember, but she returned to the series of images that rushed through her mind with such force they caused physical pain.

“I…” Ryan said slowly, “I actually remember some of that.”

This seemed significant to Susan. “What do you remember?”

Ryan struggled to sort the images. “Nothing before that. Nothing after that. But I remember the moment Victor’s blood touched my lips.” She turned to Victor. “And somehow it seems my reaction to the connection was mental, not physical.”

Susan felt her own sense of frustration. None of this made any sense. When Victor told her of the contact, she had swabbed the wound but found nothing more unusual than traces of thrombolin. Although this would have been abnormal in a human, it was normal for Ryan because Susan had previously discovered the anticoagulant in the saliva of their Kind. And although Ryan may have taken a small amount of Victor’s blood, Victor had taken none from Ryan.

Ryan settled back into the pillows, her exhaustion returning full force. She was clearly distressed by this turn of events. One last thought kept her from sleep.

“Is Drake alright?” she asked Victor.

“Yes,” Victor said. “He’s fine. Would you like to see him?”

“No,” Ryan said, rolling over onto her side and turning her back to her father. “He should not be near me right now.”

Victor clenched his jaw at the pain in his child’s voice, and at the knowledge that she was right.

Susan watched the handsome dark-haired man from the hallway and Edward appeared at her side. Both were moved by Victor’s emotions. Edward could sense Susan’s emotions as well.

“Ryan has been through worse,” Edward said, somehow doubting the truth of his own words. They were not exactly an untruth because he had no idea what Ryan was going through right now.

“I am going back to my lab,” Susan said, pushing her sadness aside. She needed to focus on her work. “Will he stay with her?”

Edward nodded. “Victor will not leave her side. I doubt she will be able to wander off again.”

“I would take my turn keeping watch,” Susan said, “but if she wakes in her amnesiac form, there is nothing I can do to stop her.”

Edward pondered her words. “I doubt there’s anything I could do to stop her. Which is why,” he continued, “it is good that Victor has taken additional precautions.”

Susan turned to him, curious. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Edward smiled.

“His lordship has taken it upon himself to summon the elemental forces of fire and ice.”

Susan assessed the odd statement, then took a quick breath as she grasped its meaning.

“Both of them?”

“Yes,” said Edward said, “they should be arriving today, in fact.” Despite his usual misgivings directed at the incoming visitors, his approval for this course of action was unequivocal. Desperate times required desperate measures.

For Susan’s part, this pronouncement brought an odd mixture of anxiety, relief, and pure exhilaration.

CHAPTER 7

THE MID-SIZED JETS ARRIVED almost simultaneously, quite a feat considering they had departed from different continents. The flurry of activity at the private landing strip was at a level normally associated with the arrival of royalty. The subsequent entourage from the runway to the mansion exceeded even that bloated standard. The long caravan wound its way about the circular drive and then the two central limousines stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

Outwardly, Edward was a picture of efficient servitude, his patrician features calm and composed. Inwardly, he was steeling himself for the coming onslaught.

The first door opened and a ravishing, dark-haired woman stepped out. Her dark eyes sparkled with wicked mirth as glanced up at Edward, instantly assessing his internal state. She tossed her head to the side, placing her hand on her hip and tilting her chin with sultry nonchalance. Power and desire emanated from her in equal parts like heat emanating from an inferno. Edward struggled to maintain his composure.

The second door opened and another woman stepped out. Older in physical appearance and fairer in coloring than the first, she was just as stunningly gorgeous. Icily elegant, she carried herself with a regal and forbidding poise. Her power, unlike that of her fiery companion, was carefully contained and controlled, but just as unmistakable. Her eyes were filled with cool amusement as she greeted the raven-haired woman.

“Hello my dear,” Abigail said, “it feels like we were just here.”

“Bonjour, Ma Cherie,” Marilyn responded, kissing the cheek Abigail proffered. “I believe that we were.” She glanced up at Edward. “I am quite curious why Victor has summoned us in such short order.”

Abigail extended her hand and Marilyn took it, giving the outward appearance of assisting the matriarch up the stairs. But Marilyn knew as well as any that Abigail required no assistance, rather this was one of the forms of subtle and sensual influence that Abigail exerted. Marilyn participated in the charade without hesitation or reservation, partially because she enjoyed it, and partially because that was how Marilyn approached everything.

Edward watched the two, noting the physical and non-physical contact in the greeting. There had always been a delicate balance of competition and cooperation between these two Old Ones, and Edward felt that a tilt towards the latter would be far more dangerous than the former. He did his best to hide his thoughts, but he knew that the she-dragon approaching him sensed the theme if not the entire content of his concerns. Her cool gaze and slow smile told him as much. The twitch of Marilyn’s full lips told him she knew as well.

Edward sighed and bowed deeply from the waist. “His lordship is extremely grateful that you have responded with such haste.”

“We live to serve him,” Abigail said. “Which brings to question, why does his lordship not greet us himself?”

“Yes,” Marilyn added, “where is Victor?”

Edward chose his words carefully. “He sends his most fervent apologies and has said he will greet you properly once you are settled.”

Abigail’s examination was acute and Edward would have felt no less exposed had he been standing there naked. The silence stretched for a long moment while Edward waited for the question he knew would follow.

“And where is Ryan?” Abigail asked, her gaze penetrating.

Edward again chose his words carefully. “She has not completely recovered from her ordeal and is spending a great deal of time resting.”

This comment brought intense scrutiny from both women. Edward sighed, and again bowed deeply, doing his best to imply that he was simply the hired help. Neither woman bought the act for a moment.

“Then why don’t you get us settled in our chambers,” Abigail said, “so that we can meet with Victor.”

Marilyn spent no time in her quarters but immediately went to Abigail’s suite. She entered without knocking, causing Abigail’s staff to attempt looks of disapproval. But the raven-haired beauty was simply too infectious to inspire even the mildest ire in them, so they quickly disappeared lest they more successfully elicit that emotion from their mistress.

“Please come in,” Abigail said drily.

Marilyn glanced about the room. Whereas her chambers were decorated in warm, bold colors with plush, modern furnishings, Abigail’s were a study in timeless luxury; all pale, cool colors, antique furniture, and classic works of art. The decor had been a nod of respect from Ryan and both suites suited their occupants perfectly.

Marilyn settled onto the couch across from Abigail and opened her mouth to speak. But before she could utter a word, the door opened once more.

“I see I have another interloper,” Abigail said, unable to disguise her pleasure.

Drake peeked around the door. Then, without hesitation, he raced into the room and into Marilyn’s open arms. She lifted him from the ground onto her lap, facing her.

“Mon Dieu,” Marilyn said under her breath. The child was gorgeous. She had just seen him weeks before, but at this age he was growing so quickly he had already changed. He was getting taller and leaner, losing what little baby fat he had. His black hair was thick and luxurious, just like his grandfather’s, and his deep blue eyes sparkled. He laughed, clapped his hands on Marilyn’s cheeks, and planted a giant kiss on her lips. He leaned back, quite satisfied with himself.

“Oh my,” Marilyn said, feeling such a powerful mix of tenderness and desire for the boy. “You cannot grow up fast enough.”

The boy sensed both emotions from the beautiful woman and was alarmed by neither. He instinctively understood the tenderness because he was a child, and the desire because he was Ryan’s child. Marilyn ran her fingers through his hair.

“I know why Victor kept Ryan from us when she was this young,” she murmured, kissing his forehead.

Drake turned his attention to Abigail and suddenly grew shy. Abigail stared at him for what seemed an eternity, and his small body visibly trembled with anticipation. Finally, with the smile she could no longer contain, she gave him permission to approach.

“Come here, little one.”

Drake climbed from Marilyn’s lap and approached Abigail in a far more circumspect manner. She, too, pulled him onto her lap to face her and he sat patiently as she examined him. She noted his fine features, the chiseled cheek bones, the perfect mouth.

“You,” she said to the small boy, “look exactly like your mother.”

This pleased Drake greatly and he blushed, smiling shyly. He very slowly leaned forward and touched his lips to Abigail’s, the kiss utterly gentle and chaste, but extending just that fraction of a second longer than a truly chaste kiss would. He leaned back to assess the results of his experiment.

Abigail was amused. “You,” she said, “also act exactly like your mother.”

He again smiled shyly, showing no indication that he truly understood what he had just done. Abigail wondered what the boy would be like around the sight of blood.

“Drake?” came the uncertain voice from the doorway. Jason leaned inside, a look of trepidation on his face. He caught sight of his young companion and stepped inside, clearly apologetic.

“I was supposed to be watching him, but he disappeared on me.”

Marilyn eyed the young man appreciatively. She had not seen much of him lately, and he, too, was undergoing dramatic changes. She estimated he was on the verge of adolescence and although he also strongly favored his mother, his father’s genetic influence could be seen. Jason was already as tall as Susan with a strong and sturdy build.

Jason grew flush under Marilyn’s scrutiny. The dark-haired woman already played a large role in his fantasies and her dancing eyes told him that she knew it.

“Come here, Jason,” Marilyn commanded playfully. Although her tone was teasing, refusal was not an option. Abigail glanced over at Marilyn, and Drake shifted to get a better view. His friend seemed quite out of sorts at the moment.

Jason stepped closer and Marilyn’s examination continued. His mop of red hair from childhood was turning bronze, much like Susan’s, and he shared her coloring. He also shared her penchant for uncontrolled blushing as his cheeks went to a deep red. Marilyn thought it quite fetching.

Abigail watched Marilyn toy with the young man, and watched as Drake seemed quite intrigued by the whole situation. It would be most interesting to watch these dynamics as the boys grew older.