Blood Rebellion (Blood Destiny #7) (6 page)

"Well, Brenten, you brought this on us, didn't you?"

Chapter 3
 

I stared at my grandmother for a second or two before I let her have it. "He didn't have anything to do with this," I spat. "You did well enough, bringing this on yourselves."

"And who are you?" She dismissed me with a contemptuous blink of her beautiful, gold eyes. Kyler and Cleo had those eyes. It might explain the gold flecks in Griffin's eyes, too.

"The one who put you here," I answered her question, reining in my temper. One more step and she'd be within range of my claws. That wouldn't do—I had a feeling my father wanted something from her. I hoped it wasn't love or affection—she was incapable of either. She called me an extremely unkind name in the Elemaiyan language. I didn't care. "You will answer all of Daddy's questions honestly, from this point forward," I laid compulsion and put power in it. I'd probably shocked the hell out of Griffin by calling him Daddy, but we needed to close ranks against this one. She blinked at me a time or two as my compulsion settled over her brain.

"You're his daughter." She said it flatly.

"Obviously. Daddy, she's all yours." I stepped back and motioned Griffin forward. Garde was at my back, suddenly, his hands on my shoulders while Griffin asked his mother questions.

"Who is my father?" That was his first question and I wanted to weep. I'd only waited forty-eight years to find out who my father was. Griffin was over a hundred thousand and he still didn't know.

"You are fortunate that
she
placed the compulsion." My grandmother hissed, cutting her eyes toward me. "Your father—well, he placed a spell of his own, when I refused to stay with him and refused to bring you back to him. He told me I couldn't tell anyone unless I brought you back. I told him to go fuck himself." She laughed at the memory. "Brenten, your father was Karathian. Wylend Arden was his name. A powerful Warlock he was—more powerful than even I guessed. Not many could place a spell on any of us and have it hold like that," she snorted at the thought.

"You are only half Elemaiya," Griffin went on, as if the information regarding his father was of no consequence. I knew better—he was rattled but refused to allow his mother to see how she'd upset him. "What happened to your parents?"

"My Elemaiyan mother died. As did my sorry Traveler father. They kept me away from my people until I was nearly twenty."

"You killed them—your parents." I gave her a hard look.

"They kept me away from my people," my grandmother snapped. "They deserved what they got."

"Do I have any sisters or brothers?" Griffin asked his next question.

"All are dead except for one half-brother and he may be gone soon," she laughed humorlessly. "I left him at an orphanage on Beliphar more than fifty years ago. Good luck on finding him."

"You are pathetic," Kyler growled. "I should release your particles."

"No, sister." Cleo stepped forward and she was shining. What I saw next even I wasn't expecting. Cleo had wings. Beautiful wings that spread about her, their shining whiteness glowing in the morning sun upon Kifirin. Cleo reached out and touched her great-grandmother on the forehead, causing the woman to shriek in agony and then drop, weeping, to the ground.

"You will now know what you have dealt to others and you will search for the love you denied but it will not come to you. Ask not for pity from those who were once your family. It will not be granted." Cleo's words held Power. I had to
Look
to see where it came from. Cleo had a direct connection to something on the other side.

"What's her name?" I almost whispered my question to Griffin.

"Narissa," Griffin's voice was also soft as he watched his mother weep. We left her there, folded up on the ground and rocking herself.

I think Kyler took us back to the High Demon palace; I wasn't sure Griffin was able at the moment. He was finally allowing the information his mother had given to sink in, with devastating results. His hands shook and he might have been close to hyperventilating. "Em-pah, what are you going to do?" Kyler and Amara led him to a chair once we were inside a suite at the palace. Garde sent the two High Demon guards away and stayed with us. Griffin shook with shock and I wasn't prepared to console him. I did know what I could do, however.

"I'm calling Erland," I said, and sent out mindspeech.

* * *

"Lissa, my love, dare I hope you've changed your mind?" Erland appeared in seconds after I sent mindspeech. He looked so hopeful as he took my hand and kissed it. The smile he gave me was blinding, too. Most women would have fallen to the floor in an orgasmic faint at that smile.

"Erland, I haven't, that isn't why I called you," I blew out a breath. Amara was doing what she could for her mate and Cleo and Kyler were both sitting with Griffin. They each held a hand, squeezing it tightly.

"What has happened?" Erland knew something was up, now.

"Daddy just found out who his father was from his Elemaiyan mother," I took Erland's arm and led him from the suite with Garde on our heels. When we reached the hall outside, I asked my question. "Have you ever heard of a Karathian Warlock named Wylend Arden?"

Erland stared at me in shock for seconds. "What's wrong, Erland?" I asked.

"Fuck me," Erland breathed, his beautiful face displaying shock.

"Yeah, you keep asking and I keep saying no. Who's Wylend Arden?"

"Perhaps it is better if I show you." Erland folded me away before Garde could protest.

* * *

"Where are we?" We'd landed in an entryway that reminded me of the rotunda at Grey House—the one that held all the sculpture and artwork. Only this one was six times bigger and even more obscenely opulent. The marble tiles were veined in gold and silver. Some of the sculptures were gold or appeared to be gold and depicted humanoids and animals in many poses. Some danced; some played musical instruments or leapt and ran against polished marble walls.

A uniformed man appeared quickly in the middle of a central, wide doorway. "Lord Morphis, if you and your guest will follow me," he bowed slightly, seeming unsurprised that we'd appeared from nowhere without an invitation. Erland nudged me forward and I walked on feet that had suddenly gone numb. Recognition shone in our greeter's eyes—he knew Erland and knew him well. We followed our guide through a seemingly endless hall. Paintings and priceless treasures hung on walls or rested on ornately carved furniture throughout its length. We reached another doorway eventually and our guide stopped before us, causing Erland to pull me to a halt as well. Erland's arm was around my shoulders and his fingers gripped my upper arm tightly, as if he were afraid I might disappear. I was thinking about it, but the opportunity passed quickly.

"Lord Erland Morphis," our guide announced in a loud voice. "And guest," he added before moving away. Erland pulled me forward, although I was beginning to have second (and third) thoughts about all this.

The throne room (that's what it was, I discovered quickly) was magnificent. The value of the tile alone could have fed a Third World country on Earth for several years. Who had wealth such as this? I had no idea. Small knots of men and women stood here and there inside that throne room and they gazed upon us in curiosity as Erland steered me through them, heading toward the throne and the man who sat there. Flanked by two Warlocks in uniform, the man on the throne observed us with guarded interest as we approached.

When we reached the bottom step leading to the ornate chair and the man who sat upon it, Erland bowed low. He didn't ask me to bow with him, or kneel or curtsy (not that I would have). The man on the throne lifted an eyebrow at me when Erland straightened up from his bow. I already knew from the scent who he was.

"Explain why your guest does not bow, before I call my guards to imprison her," Wylend Arden asked Erland calmly.

"Even if she were not who she is, it would be foolish to attempt to imprison her," Erland talked in circles. One of King Wylend's eyebrows lifted higher.

"You bring me a puzzle to solve?" Wylend seemed quite happy at the prospect.

"If you wish it, my King," Erland flashed a dazzling smile.

"Let me see," Wylend stood and walked down the steps, the two Warlock guards remaining at his side as he descended. King Wylend Arden was beardless, wore only a simple gold band on his forehead, dressed richly in a silk shirt and trousers and wore a heavy gold chain that circled his neck. His eyes and his height were Griffin's—there was no mistaking them, as well as the brown color of his hair. Narissa had been shorter—very close to my height. Kyler and Cleo had gotten their beauty and rich auburn hair from her. I was staring at my grandfather. Had I ever thought to have one? My mother always said her parents were dead and Howard Graham's were deceased before I was born.

"Let's see," Wylend examined me carefully as he circled Erland and me. He stroked his chin lightly as he considered the conundrum I presented. "Do I get the standard three questions?" Wylend was still walking around me, much like a large cat might consider its prey.

"If you wish it, my King," Erland repeated, grinning wider, now.

"Very well. Is she human?"

"Not human," Erland was enjoying this. I wanted to elbow him in the stomach. Instead, I was forced to stand there and bear the King's scrutiny. Honestly, I had no idea what to do or how he might react when he learned he had a granddaughter (or great-granddaughters, for that matter). How was Griffin going to deal with this? He had a living father. I think he imagined his father was dead and merely wanted to know the name. Who knows—with his ability to bend time, he might have gone back and watched his father from afar. That wasn't necessary. His father was here and staring at me intently.

"Is she pregnant with your child?" Wylend asked his second question.

"I may hold hope in that direction, but no," Erland chuckled.

"I didn't think you'd switched allegiances again so quickly," Wylend said and came to stare into my eyes.

"I have not, my King, although I still have desires where this one is concerned." What had he meant by switching allegiances? I was going to have to do a little digging myself.

"Is this the new Queen of Le-Ath Veronis?" Wylend stood back, a look of triumph on his face.

"Yes, my King, but there is something else that you must know about her," Erland vibrated with excitement.

"I guessed correctly!" Wylend seemed quite happy with his skill at this game. "Welcome, Queen Lissa," he took my hand and kissed it.

"My King, may we retire to your study so I may give you the last part of my information in private?" Erland asked.

"Of course," Wylend pointed us toward a small doorway off to the side and the two uniformed guards led the way. Wylend strode before us and Erland and I followed at his heels.

The study was luxury itself, with priceless antique maps hanging on one wall while another wall held a huge painting of a seascape. It made me think of Edwin Church's depiction of Niagara Falls—the handling of the water was very similar. The painting was breathtaking; I wouldn't mind having something like it hanging on the walls of my suite.

Wylend sat and then asked us to sit in chairs before his huge, elaborately carved dark wood desk. "Now, Lord Morphis, what news do you bring to me?"

"Do you remember Narissa?" Erland asked. How had he gotten that name? I hadn't given it to him.

Wylend's face went dark with anger. "I remember. She was such a temptress when I met her."

"And then she turned into the biggest bitch ever," Erland nodded in agreement. He was acting as if he knew her—had met her, even. I was now staring at Erland in alarm.

"Tell me what happened when she left, Wylend." Erland coaxed. I had no idea what was going on between these two. Erland was behaving as if he and Wylend were close—closer than I imagined. I was trying to sort that out without
Looking
—I felt it would be rude if I tried.

"That bitch was pregnant with my child," Wylend was even angrier, now. "I know what her kind do with their quarter-blood children. She was half; I determined that for myself. She took my child away, Erland. I cursed her for it, but she took it anyway, out of spite. I had no way to find it, they gate so often, and the Elemaiya are generally beyond even our skills to track. My child is dead now and I have not been able to produce another." Wylend was acting as if he truly cared about that. It made the breath catch in my throat.

"I have information for you, my King," Erland left his seat and knelt ceremoniously before Wylend's desk. "Your child is not dead," he announced. "I was not able to bring him immediately," Erland lifted his head and gazed up at Wylend. "But your granddaughter sits before you now."

I always knew Erland had a flair for the dramatic. He certainly pulled out all the stops for this announcement.

"Erland Morphis, get up from there this instant!" I smacked his shoulder, causing Wylend to roar with laughter.

* * *

"Where is Lissa?" Amara asked Gardevik, who'd come back inside the suite.

"Erland Morphis came and squirreled her away," Gardevik didn't know how he felt about that. Griffin still looked pale but Cleo was tending him and he was better than before.