Blood Recall

by Connie Suttle

  Lissa is the other.

  What should I do with this information? Charles was right—I wanted to smother Zaria with Love, but things had gone dangerous here—and on Refizan. Distracting Zaria now could have consequences.

  Damn.

  And Lissa? She deserved to know, too, but there were the same reasons not to tell her. I was now at loose ends while this information turned over and over in my brain. Lissa and I, once this was over, needed to have a talk with our shared daughter.

  After we came to terms with this ourselves. In the meantime, there was someone I wanted to speak with—one of Zaria's half-sisters—Conner.

  Specifically, Conner as the Guardian, and also as the Shining One known as the Mouth of the One.

  Call me if you need me, I sent to Karzac on Refizan. I have an errand to run.

  "He sent mindspeech. He said you'd come," Conner told me. She and Kiarra, Zaria's other half-sister, waited for me in Conner's huge kitchen.

  "He also said you'd ask about Sarita," Kiarra said. "Because Sarita was in love with Merrill, and he didn't reciprocate that feeling. He turned her to save her life rather than killing her when she didn't obey a vampire's compulsion."

  "So he wasn't the one who drank from her?" I frowned.

  "No. That was Wlodek," Conner answered my question.

  "So. That explains a lot," I breathed a sigh and sat on a barstool, setting my paper coffee cup down in front of me.

  "It does, but not all of it. Wlodek didn't make the attempt, because he knew what the odds were of her survival—females as a rule didn't make the turn on Earth. Already, I think he was falling in love with her and asked Merrill to either kill her for him or attempt the turn, which in most cases, would end up being the same thing."

  "How do you feel—about learning you have a daughter?" Kiarra asked.

  "I'm still working my way through that, and am caught between being pissed at Charles and wanting to hug the stuffing out of Zaria."

  "Well, imagine our surprise when we learned we had another sister," Conner huffed. "We went through the whole gamut of emotions, but the main one was why didn't he tell us? We felt deprived of that bond of kinship. Now, Zaria just turns away when she sees us. She won't come and talk to us or anything."

  "It may have to do with the fact that both of you recognized him eventually as your father. She still hasn't come to terms with that. Consequently, having sisters muddled all that up for her."

  "And having mothers can do the same, if not make it worse," Kiarra nodded.

  "For years, she had no idea who her birth parents were. No search on Earth could reveal that information, because humans couldn't reach it. She considered herself an orphan in every sense of the word, even with adoptive parents."

  "And now you want to know what happened to Sarita after she walked into the sun, don't you?" Conner asked.

  "If the Guardian knows," I shrugged.

  "Her soul has been reborn, but we were commanded not to reveal that information. However, there is something else."

  "What's that?"

  "Zaria's surrogate mother—the one who carried her and then gave her away."

  "Well, I hadn't thought about that kink until just now," I berated myself.

  "This is where things get really interesting, because I think Charles wanted her to have a connection to all of the Three," Kiarra said. "Ashe's mother, Ashlynne, carried and delivered Harriett, who eventually became Zaria."

  I stared at both Kiarra and Conner for several seconds, before I remembered to blink. "I know who Sarita is, now," I pointed a finger at Conner. "And, as far as I'm concerned, Zaria still has three living mothers." Surrogate or not, Ashlynne had played a part in Zaria's existence.

  I disappeared the moment I saw confirmation of my guess in both their gazes. Avendor was my next stop; I intended to ask Ashlynne a few questions of my own.

  "You're uncomfortable?" Ashe shook his head at me. "I'm uncomfortable every time I see her, and she's my mother."

  "You didn't grow up calling her Mom, so that's understandable," I said. "You didn't know about her until you were sixteen, I think."

  "I didn't know she was still alive for a long time. Now, Rabis, I have no trouble calling him Grandfather, so you figure this out." Ashe stood in the massive kitchen at SouthStar's big house, as they called it.

  "Have you had a talk with Charles about Zaria?"

  "No. Why?"

  "Because Ashlynne was Zaria's surrogate mother."

  I watched him go completely still. "You're joking," he said after a moment.

  "I'm not—I just got confirmation from two of his three daughters."

  "Conner and Kiarra?"

  "Yep."

  "So, he got her to carry his baby." Ashe shoved hands in both pockets and turned to look out the wall of windows lining one side of the kitchen. Those windows overlooked the gishi tree groves below the house—mile upon mile of them.

  "That's not all. I also know who Zaria's actual mothers are."

  "My mother wasn't enough?" He whirled to face me.

  "Um, well, he took from three others to form the egg," I said.

  "You'd better tell me before I go hunting him and choke him to death."

  "Lissa, Sarita, and—me."

  "You have a daughter?" His voice went soft.

  "That I didn't know about, yes," I said. Frankly, I should have known before now, because Zaria was so much like Lissa and me. Since I didn't know Sarita, I couldn't say on that quarter.

  "Want to help me strangle Charles?"

  "I'll consider it."

  "Damn," Ashe raked fingers through light-brown hair. "I have a sister—sort of."

  "You don't think of Blackwing as your sister?"

  "She won't even speak to me. What do you think?"

  "I don't know," I shrugged. "I'm still trying to deal with this information. I can't tell Zaria right now, as much as I want to, because we're in the middle of a big mess on Earth and Refizan."

  "Bring her here to tell her if you want. For now, let's go find my mother and have a conversation."

  "Hmmph. You only show up if you want something," Ashlynne slammed a kettle on the stove to heat water for tea. She spoke to Ashe but leveled dark looks in my direction, too.

  "I deserve that," Ashe said, taking a chair at the small kitchen table. "I keep telling you I'll build a bigger house for you and Grandfather, but you refuse. This street runs both ways, Mother."

  "What do you want?" She sounded resigned while allowing her shoulders to droop. Her back was turned toward us as she lit the burner to heat water.

  "We heard you acted as a surrogate for a child, once."

  "He paid me."

  "That's ah, unexpected," Ashe coughed.

  "He paid me with a safe place to stay after that filth Friesianna took over. Thought she killed me, too, the bitch."

  "Mother, you're not making this easy for anyone, including yourself."

  "Why are you asking about the girl? Going looking for your long-lost almost-sister?"

  "We don't have to look; we know where she is."

  "I hope she doesn't want anything from me."

  "I doubt that," I broke in. "She's powerful and important. You may want something from her. The trouble is, she'll see straight through you when you ask."

  "If I could, I'd take this bitterness away from you," Ashe sighed. "I know you were in exile for centuries uncounted. Forced to live alone most of that time, too. I can only do something now, Mother. I can't change the past. I don't have that ability."

  "No—you're not the Ka'Mirai. I know who she is, and she wouldn't change things, either, because we turned her away."

  "That's a lot of prejudice to deal with," Ashe agreed. "The dilution of the race and such."

  "The quarter bloods could gate—some of them. Father told me that I shouldn't turn them out—that I was Queen and could make that decision. I should have listened to him."

  "A lot of people should have listened to him. They wouldn't, and
that included Friesianna and Baltis. You know where they are, now."

  "Dead, curse their souls," Ashlynne muttered angrily. "And another placed as Queen over my head, now. Not that I'd want it back," she held up a hand. "It's too much work and I feel old."

  Tell me what to do to make peace with her, Ashe begged in mindspeech.

  "I have something for you," I said, standing.

  "What?" She sounded suspicious.

  "What you've had precious little of," I said, and sent her Love.

  Chapter 11

  Lissa

  "What is it they say about no rest for the wicked?" I asked. Winkler and I sat at a table in Deep Perkatory, a coffee shop across from the hotel, talking. He'd gotten a report from Ace at the beach house, saying Kellee's doctor appointment went well and the babies were fine. Kellee, on the other hand, was pissed because she wanted to go shopping and Ace and the others wouldn't let her out of the house.

  Poor thing.

  Winkler had gotten off the phone with her, then proceeded to growl and snap at everyone afterward. I hauled his furry ass away from the hotel for a cup of coffee so he could calm down.

  "I never thought we were the wicked," he said with a snort. "There I was, thinking we were the good guys. And girls."

  "I was being sarcastic."

  "And so was I."

  I figured Zaria would see it in him plainly, but since I knew him so well, I could guess at his reference—he hadn't felt like a good guy since he'd taken down his own father.

  "Get Weldon to change the law," I told him, making him blink at my apparent shift in subject matter. "Tell him that a Packmaster should be able to step down and leave the job with someone else, and that the designated Packmaster will accept challenges—one at a time. Frankly, I'm kinda tired of seeing good wolves die just because they're getting a little long in the tooth."

  "Hmmph," Winkler turned his head away to stare out the huge window next to our table.

  "I'm serious, Winkler. What will Weldon do when the time comes for him? I know for a fact he wants his son Darryl to take over, and he also has a grandbaby now that I'm sure he'd like to see graduate from high school. Maybe college, too."

  "I'll mention it to him."

  "You do that."

  "Ilya and Zaria are coming this way," Winkler announced, staring out the window once again.

  "They like coffee too—we don't have the market cornered, you know. Winkler, I have a question for you. A serious question."

  "What's that?" I had his full attention, now.

  "What if you found out you had a child—that you didn't know about?"

  "I don't. The only two I have are with Kellee." He didn't say her name with a shred of respect.

  "No, I'm talking about me, here, not you."

  "How the hell would you have kids? You couldn't before you were vampire, and you sure as hell can't now."

  "Wow—thanks for putting it in such clear perspective," I grumped at him. "That's not what I meant, anyway. What if somebody manipulated your DNA or something, to reach that end?"

  "Depends on what kind of person they turned out to be. Whether they'd accept they had a mother or father, and how well they'd fit in—how much like their mom or dad they were, I suppose."

  "What if they were so much like you it hurt?"

  "Damn, that's a no-brainer. I'd haul 'em in and start 'em in the family business."

  "What if they're already in the business, so to speak, and did that all on their own?"

  "So much the better."

  "You make it sound so simple. What if they had no need for a mother or father?"

  "Rejection?" Winkler was now getting to the base fear I held.

  "Yeah."

  "I'd have to try. Even if I walked away with nothing, that's what I had to start with, anyway."

  "I see your point."

  "What's this about, anyhow? That pile of grumpy vampires in England giving you fits?"

  "In a manner of speaking." I didn't tell him that it was Charles, this time, and nobody else. I had a feeling about him—and Zaria—and me. Only time would tell whether my suppositions were correct.

  "Want to invite them to sit with us?" Winkler asked, nodding toward Ilya and Zaria, who were now ordering at the counter.

  "If you want to."

  "I don't mind."

  "All right." Want to sit with us? I sent to Zaria.

  Sure. Be right there.

  Damn, I hoped she was my daughter—at least partly, and I hoped she was okay with that.

  Zaria

  "I almost wish you could go tell Kellee to sit down, shut up and stop whining about going shopping," Winkler gave me a half-grin after Lissa moved to his side of the table, allowing Ilya and me to have the other.

  "You mean granny Zaria?" I wrinkled my nose and made a face at Winkler.

  "That's the one she'd listen to."

  "I'll put it on my to-do list."

  "It's a long list," Ilya joked.

  "Don't we know it," Lissa agreed.

  "To long lists," I held up my latte cup. Lissa tapped hers against it and smiled.

  Later, we walked out of the coffee shop together. Lissa and I had shields around us, which meant that the snipers driving past failed to kill us, but several people crossing the street nearby weren't so lucky.

  Our most recent clock had run out.

  "I don't know how this is possible, but I am grateful it is," Bill walked around the three-dimensional image of the scene I displayed in a private meeting room at his headquarters.

  The faces of the gunmen weren't covered, which meant they didn't care if they were recognized. Mostly, it meant their puppet master didn't care, therefore, they didn't either.

  "That's Phil—again," Winkler growled at his former Second's image—the second one we'd found so far. Who knew how many of them existed, now?

  Baikov was stepping up his game, and killing civilians in broad daylight.

  "The other one is Aubrey—or Aubrey's clone. The actual Aubrey died recently," Lissa said. "And this one is walking in daylight, so that's a brand-new twist."

  "That's Mick at the wheel," Winkler snarled, naming the former Second in the Austin Pack. At least he didn't have a gun; the other two were hanging out the passenger and back windows to do their shooting.

  "There is technology that exists to allow Aubrey to operate in daylight—Liron will know of it, as do you," I said, weariness sounding in my voice.

  "Yeah. I know about that, all right," Lissa grumbled. "He still should be asleep, somewhere, though. When I had one of those discs, I couldn't keep my eyes open in daylight. All it did was keep me from frying if I got caught in sunlight."

  "That wouldn't be a problem if he carried one of those contraptions affixed to his spine and connected to his brain," I said. "Somebody else will be calling his shots if that's the case."

  Lissa's eyes widened as she stared at me. "Please say there isn't more of that technology running around."

  "Those things are outrageously expensive, so I'm hoping they pick and choose the recipients wisely," I replied. "Still, this is a setback for us—to know they're doing this with vampires to make them effective during the day. That technology means there's no witch involved, thank you."

  "You don't think Ivan Baikov will have one installed, do you?"

  "I doubt he wants anybody messing with his spine and brain; there's too much opportunity to turn him into a puppet. He's the one whose hand is up this clone's skirt, if you get my meaning."

  "Xenides had Aubrey killed, so he's involved in this too. Ditto on the reasons he won't want one of those contraptions. I hope they don't try to trap René with this shit." Lissa was angry, on top of being worried.

  René would still die, but that would come later. Other things should happen first, and that became my worry as well.

  "And these got away," Bill sighed.

  "No, they didn't. It just looks like they got away," I told him. "I released their particles on the fly, and let their imag
e screech away. It disappeared two minutes later, so don't waste your time looking for something that doesn't exist—unless there's more of them out there, waiting to do the same thing."

  "If that's the case, what should we do?" Bill stepped right up to the passenger-window image of the recreated car, where Phil held a rifle, prepared to fire indiscriminately.

  "They're following us," I said. "I think we should take the game to them. We're running out of time, and we pretty much know where everything important happens after this. Did they send another demand?"

  "Not yet," Winkler said.

  "Then they've finally gotten the message that giving us a timeline only alerts us to when the next incident will happen," Lissa said. "We've been prepared for the last two; we may not get another demand—they'll just do something awful and hope it convinces us to come to them on our own."

  Bill had listened intently to Lissa's words. He didn't comment, but his shoulders tightened. Bill wasn't stupid; he was beginning to suspect there was much more to this than met the mundane eye.

  "I just got word from Bree," Lissa said, looking for a chair to sit down. "She says that there was an attack by Solar Red that didn't happen the first time around, and the Ra'Ak have released spawn in several parts of the city. Too many to keep them from infecting the population, unless she and the others take drastic measures." The former me is having a conniption, as you can imagine, and Dragon isn't reacting well, either.

  "Fuck." I went to Lissa and hugged her. "I'm sorry this is happening to you," I whispered.

  Lissa

  "I was in that meeting for two hours, and the whole time I just wanted to tell the President that those assholes were toast shortly after they started firing, but there could be an identical set out there, ready to do the same thing again." Tony paced and shook his head as he spoke.

  Tony—future Tony—wasn't happy. He wasn't used to being raked over hot coals by a President who, to him, had been dead for centuries.

  He'd gone to the White House shortly after the incident, while the rest of us, minus Charles and Trajan, had met with Bill at his headquarters.