Blood Recall

by Connie Suttle

  "I'm glad their football season doesn't start until next month," I said.

  "We'll still run into a couple of concerts, so look for crowds coming in. We have rooms on the top floor, so there could be a lot of foot traffic in and out."

  "Are you planning to blend in?" I frowned at Bill.

  "I'm planning to employ the software—a lot," Bill replied. "And Zaria's shields, too. We got an update on the agent who sold Ilya's images to Baikov."

  "He's dead, huh?"

  "As a doornail. Stabbed in the heart, just like the ones in California."

  "Baikov has another mister, I'll bet money on it."

  "Can a mister get through Zaria's shields?"

  "Not unless she allows it."

  "Thank God."

  Dublin, Ireland

  Ilya

  After killing Andrei's murderer, and while I ranted at Zaria's tardiness by shouting and gesturing wildly while tears ran down my face, Zaria began to glow. I called her names and wept for my son as she ignored me.

  Reaching out a hand that shone like the sun, she held it over Andrei's body.

  I continued to shout.

  Until the miracle happened.

  Andrei sat up, his hands going immediately to his chest where he'd taken two bullets. All evidence of that, blood included, had disappeared.

  "How?" He looked from me to Zaria, who still stood over him.

  "How, indeed," Zaria turned to me. Her eyes looked like molten gold.

  "Andrei?" I'd stopped shouting the moment he sat up. He'd been dead, and now he wasn't.

  "Papa?"

  Zaria stepped back. I went to my son and lifted him to his feet, then wrapped him in the tightest hug while both of us trembled with shock and joy.

  "We have to take you to a safe place, Andrei," Zaria said, interrupting our reunion. "Decide now—come with me to Revalus or stay here and remain a target."

  "Revalus?"

  "Honey, it's a few hundred thousand light years from here. You have to trust me. Please."

  "I don't wish to leave," Andrei said.

  "Fuck." Zaria's shoulders drooped as she turned her back to me. "Ilya, this is the only opportunity you'll get to save your son's life. Andrei, if you die again, I can't save you. Do you understand?" She whirled to face both of us.

  "Are you planning to go elsewhere?" I demanded. "Why couldn't you save him again?"

  "Because I shouldn't have saved him this time," Zaria snapped. "I don't belong here on Earth. Please understand that. Both of you. All right?"

  "I don't understand any of this," Andrei said. I agreed with his assessment, but didn't say it aloud.

  "You see this," Zaria pointed to her face. "This is a temporary thing. This is what I look like when I'm myself."

  She changed.

  Grew taller. Much taller.

  Her skin became the blue of a summer sky and black hair turned blonde.

  And then the wings, white as snow sparkling with gold, spread away from her back.

  Andrei said something about angels and almost fell. I gripped his elbow to hold him up.

  "Decide now whether you wish to live, Andrei Kuznetzov. I can't save you a second time."

  I gaped, I know I did. She was this? How? Why? I didn't understand who or what she was any longer.

  "Guard your thoughts, Ilya; I can see all of them if I want."

  "Are you an angel?" Andrei breathed.

  "I am the Vhanaraszh, beloved of the Larentii race, capable of Changing What Was. If you no longer want me, Ilya, I will understand. Choose your path now. Time grows short."

  "I will stay here with Andrei," I said flatly. "Let them come back. We will take care of further attempts."

  "Good-bye, Ilya."

  She disappeared, leaving me staring at an empty space in Andrei's apartment.

  What had I just done?

  Wait, had my disguise been removed?

  "Andrei, what do I look like to you?" I asked.

  "Like you always do."

  "Gather your things; we have to go. Take that filth's weapon, you may need it." We stepped over the body of the KGB assassin on our way out the door.

  Chapter 13

  Lissa

  "He's with his son. They made a choice," Zaria said. She sat at the breakfast table, looking like she hadn't slept in a week.

  "What happened?"

  "I saved the life of his son, Andrei. Andrei refused to go to a safer place. He and Ilya think they can handle this on their own."

  "That's fucked up," I mumbled while lifting my coffee cup. I didn't say that it was a no-brainer that it hurt her—what he'd done.

  What they'd both done.

  It wasn't the first time Ilya had done a double back flip with a twist into the deep end of the idiot pool, either, where Zaria was concerned. Maybe getting saved by a woman just didn't seem macho enough to him—or his kid. Vampire Baikov would eat them alive and spit out their bones.

  "So, the Russian deserted, eh?" Bill took a seat at our table, as did Tony.

  "He did."

  "I hope you know what he knows, then."

  "I do." Zaria's words were flat. "Probably more than he does."

  "Good. We're scheduled to leave at eleven hundred. Are you packed?"

  "Yes," I answered for both of us. Zaria could move her things in less than a blink if she wanted, as could I.

  "What about Ilya's things?" I asked gently.

  "Sent them to him when I got back."

  "Good. No loose ends," Tony said while studying the breakfast menu.

  Tony, shut the hell up, I sent.

  "Huh?" His head jerked up and he looked from me to Zaria and back again. "Sorry," he mumbled and hid behind the menu.

  Bill's phone rang. "Gotta take this," he was out of his chair quickly. Five minutes later, he was back, talking about Admiral Hafer, who'd been making unusual moves from London to Las Vegas and was now back in D.C. One of Bill's agents had reported the unusual activity.

  He's spying for the Russians and for Rahim Alif, Zaria informed me in mindspeech.

  He doesn't need to be caught now, I sent back. The other me has to be involved in all that. Hey, the Russian President was at Camp David when I did capture Hafer, I recalled.

  And then that President was replaced by another in the future, remember?

  Yeah. Maybe he showed up to see what he could find out.

  Or maybe he was running scared from some of his own people—the Klyki, for instance.

  You think they threatened him?

  It makes sense. We know who's really in charge of Russia right now, don't we?

  The Baikovs, I admitted with a mental snarl. Ilya understood all that; too many others were afraid to speak their mind on the matter. People ended up dead for less than that, and often in the strangest of circumstances.

  I didn't mention Ilya's name to Zaria—I figured she didn't want to hear it right then. Why on Earth would he and his son refuse her help? That confused me more than anything.

  "We have bigger fish to fry than Hafer," I told Bill. "He can wait a few weeks, I think."

  "Good. I need to make a few more calls. Meet us in the lobby at ten-hundred."

  Manchester, England

  Ilya

  "Katya's fine," Andrei pocketed his cell phone after talking with her.

  "We can't go to her, you know that. They'll be watching for me and it will put her in more danger."

  "I know, Papa."

  "What's wrong?" I asked him. His words were curt and he sounded out of sorts.

  "She said she couldn't save me next time. Does that mean there will be a next time?"

  "I think you worry too much. I have made a call to our friend, B," I went on. "He will do what he can to make sure Katya is safe if the worst happens."

  "Maybe we should have asked her to take us with her."

  "Perhaps," I drew out the word. Yes, I was missing her, but when she'd shown us what she was—I was shocked and disoriented for several moments. She'd spoken of
aliens before, but I'd never considered that she was so very alien, or that her appearance would be, too.

  "Papa, she had wings. Did you look at them? They were dusted with gold, like her blue skin."

  "I saw."

  "She said she could Change What Was. What does that mean?"

  "I do not have a degree in alien matters," I growled, letting Andrei know to stop the questions.

  She brought him back from the dead, my guilty conscience informed me.

  From the dead.

  Change What Was. Those bullets—both of them—had gone straight through his heart and he was dead by the time he hit the floor.

  How could anyone, no matter what their race or planet of origin, accomplish something like that—as if it never happened?

  Only Zaria could answer that question, I think, and I'd refused her help.

  And her help for Andrei, too.

  Fear gripped my heart like a cruel hand. She said she couldn't save him next time. So far, she'd never lied to me.

  There would be a next time, and it terrified me.

  "We are in England, my son," I turned to Andrei. "I suggest we travel to London—she and those with her are coming and will arrive in a matter of hours."

  "Zaria is coming here?"

  "To London, yes."

  "Good." He sounded relieved. "We can take the train or hire a car."

  "I have my bags—we'll take the train."

  The Kremlin

  Kornel Baikov

  "Sir, they've been seen in Manchester. We expected them to travel to Liverpool by ferry, but they flew to Manchester instead."

  "I still don't understand how they were able to kill our agent," I complained to my first assistant.

  "He must have gotten careless," my assistant shrugged. "Perhaps he wasn't expecting Ilya to be there, and they caught him by surprise. Nevertheless, the body was removed and all evidence cleared away."

  "Good. Watch them in Manchester, then."

  "We've received word that they've gone to the train station, to travel to London," another assistant walked in to hand a communication to my first assistant.

  "Have someone get on the train with them. If we can't take them down during the trip, then we'll have others waiting for them in London," I waved a hand. "Make sure they both die, this time."

  "I'll see to it." My first assistant walked smartly out of my office, shadowed by the second.

  London

  Ivan Baikov

  "I am sending in the female," I told Kornel. "She will be mist aboard the plane and will wait until they are over the ocean to kill the occupants. I am already in London, and will wait here for the news of their demise."

  "I'm glad she was ready to send," he replied. "Much ahead of the others, that one."

  "She may not survive the fight with the others," I pointed out.

  "This means little to us; we have more coming."

  "I will place orders to ditch the jet in the ocean, if she is successful."

  "To hide the evidence?"

  "In a manner of speaking."

  "Good. At least she takes your orders, Uncle. I had a bit of trouble with her until Fedor commanded her."

  "It only takes a vampire, nephew. Xenides told me of this quirk in the original."

  "Then I will drink to quirks. Make sure she is prepared to do everything you tell her."

  "You do not order me, remember?"

  "Yes, Uncle."

  Lissa

  We were walking toward Winkler's jet when Zaria gripped my arm. She sent what she sensed—someone was aboard the jet.

  Someone invisible and in sleep mode.

  We can toss her out of her misting state, I sent to Zaria. She'll fry in daylight, too, because she has no protection from it.

  We could do that. Or we can shield everybody and wait to see what she does when we hit darkness.

  She wants to kill us—that's a no-brainer.

  Then I have a suggestion. Let's play this close to the chest for a while. I think we can hold the jet together if she gets too crazy.

  I think we can, too. This is a duplicate of vamp Lissa one-point-oh, after all.

  Agreed. I figure vamp Baikov ordered her onto this jet, and we'll let him think he has the upper hand—at least until we're over international waters and hitting darkness.

  Sounds like a good idea. Let's do it.

  Want to tell the others?

  I'll handle it.

  Thanks. I'm not in an explaining mood right now.

  Understood. Been there, done that.

  I know.

  Ilya

  Andrei had left his seat to go to the toilet. He knew to be careful—to be watchful. His face was pale when he returned, although he didn't say anything for several moments. I saw the source of the trouble, then—he walked past our seats carrying a magazine and a briefcase.

  Our tail had arrived. I had no idea how they'd found us so quickly, but they had. No doubt they knew of the agent I'd killed in Dublin, too, and were trying to piece together what had gone wrong with their plan to kill Andrei.

  I wanted to laugh bitterly; nothing had gone wrong with their plan to kill Andrei. Zaria had intervened on his behalf, and now he lived again.

  How quickly would they kill him next time?

  Zaria, I wish you could hear me, I thought in her direction. I wish I could change my mind and send Andrei to a safe place. We are being stalked on a train from Manchester to London, and our lives may not last much longer. Please know that I care for you—I wish I'd had sense enough to say that before.

  As expected, there was no reply. I'd wasted an opportunity, and the sharp pain of that foolishness pierced my heart.

  Lissa

  Zaria and I took seats across the aisle from one another on the jet, toward the middle so we'd be prepared for whatever our invisible guest thought to do.

  Winkler growled low when he learned we had someone else aboard, but neither he, Bill nor Tony said anything. Charles lifted an eyebrow and also remained quiet.

  Trajan sat beside Winkler, in case he was needed to protect his boss. Bill, on the other hand, sat in a row between Charles and me, hoping, no doubt, that two vampires could provide some protection.

  You're all shielded, as is the jet and the cockpit, I informed them as the jet began to taxi in preparation for take-off. She won't get to the pilot and copilot for sure.

  "Can she hear us?" Bill ventured to ask.

  "Not right now—she's in the rejuvenating sleep, although she's mist."

  "Convenient, I suppose," Winkler shook his head. The jet lifted off the ground and we were airborne.

  "We'll hit sufficient darkness when we're roughly three hours away from Heathrow," Charles said. "With no land in sight. You know what Wlodek would do in this case."

  "We're not Wlodek," Zaria snapped at him.

  Charles, why the fuck did you bring that up? I sent to him.

  I'll remove her head if it's necessary.

  Good. You're plan C. Let's try plans A and B first, okay?

  I'll hold back until there's no other option.

  Thank you.

  Ilya

  We switched trains in Stafford, choosing to go a longer route through Birmingham. Our tail wasn't fast enough to catch us, but I didn't think for a moment we were in the clear.

  Especially if they put assassins on every train out of Manchester in case we attempted a switch; it's something I would have done.

  "Now we wait to see who else shows up to watch us," I said under my breath, once we'd taken our seats on the other train to Birmingham.

  I spotted him as he walked through our car later. A member of the Klyki, no less—a werewolf.

  Say nothing you don't wish to be overheard, I sent a message to Andrei's phone.

  One of them? Andrei replied.

  Yes. Be wary. Stay together.

  Of course.

  The werewolf was already sending a message on a cell phone he pulled from a pocket when he exited the car. Someone coul
d be waiting for us in Birmingham. I wondered if they'd wait to see if we got off the train, or board somehow and kill us while we traveled.

  "Papa, please say you have her phone number."

  He meant Zaria.

  "She is in the air, I think," I mumbled.

  "Papa, it's worth a try. At least leave a message. Tell her I am sorry and wish to reconsider."

  Lissa

  With two other vampires on board, there was no doubt as to when it was dark enough for our ghost to manifest. What surprised most of us was the way it happened.

  Charles had claws at the ready, in case she materialized fighting—after all, she'd be helpless against the shields Zaria had built around everything.

  Zaria, on the other hand, didn't act surprised at all when the duplicate of me appeared, crying and begging for asylum.

  Zaria

  It took a while to stop her from crying. Like Lissa in her original version, this one hadn't wanted to be a vampire and hated everything about it.

  She'd been a political prisoner who happened to have the same blood type as Lissa, and they'd reverse-engineered her, just as I thought they would, to create another Lissa.

  I worried that there could be many others, and that those wouldn't be so morally-minded as this one. She was smart, though, and figured out quickly what they wanted from her—and obeyed vampire commands to make it look as if she were fully cooperative with their plans.

  "Do you know if there are others like you?" Bill asked gently, kneeling next to the seat where she sat.

  "I saw them working with six others," she sniffled and accepted more tissues from Lissa. "There could be more—I don't know."

  "Six," Winkler growled and stalked toward the back of the jet, his shoulders set in an angry square.

  "Please, I didn't want to be this. They forced me," she repeated for perhaps the fourth time.

  "We know," I said. "What would you do if we could give you your life back and put you in a safer place to live?"

  "I would bless you for it," she dabbed her eyes again.

  "Do it," Lissa dipped her head in a nod.

  "It will be very bright in a moment; don't let that frighten you," I told her. "It's part of the process."

  "They told me it was irreversible," she admitted. "It is no surprise they lied."