by Doug Welch
Clearing his throat, Paris said, “Ahem, I have some good news. Alex is in labor and she may have already had her baby.”
Elizabeth smiled at the irony. “Why am I not surprised? This Family never does anything normal. I’ll bet the births were only a few minutes apart.”
A flurry at the entrance of the room caught her attention. A huge bouquet of flowers was followed by a tall man with snowy white hair. He brought the flowers to her bedside and nodded to Paris.
Paris nodded back. “Elizabeth, this is Grieg Pearson. Grieg, my wife Elizabeth.”
Grieg’s ruddy face stared down at her. “I’ve seen your pictures Mrs. Fox but they don’t do you justice, especially now. I’ve never seen a lovelier woman.”
The bouquet was too big to hold so she simply smelled the fragrance. “Thank you Mr. Pearson.”
Grieg put the flowers on the side table. “Just call me Grieg. May I call you Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. “Call me Beth, it’s much easier. I tried to meet with you, you know.”
Grieg glanced at Paris who nodded his head a bare inch. He turned to her. “We didn’t want to let the Borgias know we’d intercepted the twin and Paris was impersonating him. If it’s any consolation, I had my agents watching out for you the whole time, although I couldn’t tell them why. You were never in any kind of danger.”
“What are you going to do with Paris’ twin?” Elizabeth asked.
Grieg again glanced at Paris. “We haven’t decided yet. We don’t know if he is a twin. He might have been altered with plastic surgery, but it’s something you don’t need to worry about, at least until you’ve recuperated.”
“I want to be present when he’s ready to talk. I also want some genetic tests done,” Elizabeth said.
Grieg looked startled but then grinned. “Paris said you’re a focused woman but now I understand what he meant.”
Paris interrupted. “I think Beth has a point. If this ruse is to work we need to study this man in detail. There’s a large amount of things we don’t know about him and I think we need to find them out.”
Grieg shrugged. “There’s more than just the twin involved. The Council and the Houses will be clamoring to learn the truth and you know what that might mean. Besides, Anthony is flying from Belgium to meet with us as Bert Chandler’s representative. The whole affair could become a bureaucratic nightmare.”
“He transgressed on my House, Grieg,” Paris said. “That gives me precedence. In addition I’m the Council’s troubleshooter.”
Grieg held his hands out. “Let’s leave this discussion until Anthony arrives. For now let Elizabeth recuperate and you two enjoy your new daughter.”
“Where’s Dan?” Elizabeth asked.
“He’ll be visiting later,” Grieg replied. “He’s taking care of some tasks for me. I’ve decided he’s too loyal to you to be much use to our Association, so I’ve agreed to finally release him. He’ll be joining your Family as a full member.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Thank you, Grieg.”
Grieg nodded. “You’re welcome. Just recover your strength and I’ll see you at my home. You’re to be guest of honor, you know.”
“Me? Why me?” Elizabeth asked.
Grieg shrugged. “After seeing you lying in this bed, I wouldn’t have it any other way. My people can care for you while you recuperate.”
* * *
Paris opened the limousine’s door. Like cradling a delicate work of art, he carefully removed Dorri from Elizabeth’s arms, while the limo driver assisted Elizabeth in getting out of the car.
They stood at the front driveway of Grieg Person’s mansion looking up at it. Dan had said that the estate held twenty-one guest rooms in addition to a complement of common rooms, and from the sheer size of place, Paris could believe it. It looked like one of the spreads owned by the British Royal Family.
They were joined by Cecil and Dan. Dan had been at the estate many times, but Cecil stared in open-mouth amazement.
Elizabeth whistled. “It’s big.”
“Wait ‘til you see the inside,” Dan said.
The front doors opened and three servants hurried out, followed by a fourth rolling a wheelchair. Grieg Pearson accompanied them.
Elizabeth eyed the wheelchair. “I’m not an invalid. I won’t need that.”
“At least allow me to offer my arm,” Grieg said. Elizabeth nodded.
He escorted Elizabeth through the ornate front doors followed by Paris carrying Dorri, with Dan and Cecil guarding the rear. They stood in the hall entrance and looked around. Everywhere Paris’ eyes fell he spied antique furnishings, rare paintings and exquisite ceramics. Wood was a dominate theme, highly polished and of an array of colors he’d never seen before. A grand mahogany staircase swept from the hallway and intersected at least three floors.
“Alex would be foaming at the mouth,” Elizabeth said.
“More like having convulsions,” Paris added.
“Ah yes,” Grieg said. “Your sister is an antiques appraiser, isn’t she? She must visit after her baby’s born.”
“Do you own this?” Cecil asked.
“In a sense, yes,” Grieg replied. “Actually the Association owns it so we all hold it in common. I deeded it to the Association some years ago and for that reason and because I’m the Association President, I live here. It also serves as our business offices. In addition, there’s an extensive sublevel with medical facilities, temporary housing and a security section. It’s accessible only to Association members and their guests. We’ll be visiting it in a couple of days. That’s where your twin’s held, Paris.”
Grieg led them up the staircase. At the first landing two hallways opened to the east and west wings of the mansion. Grieg took the right one into the west wing. On either side of the long corridor, doors opened to reveal large bedrooms.
Pausing at one of them, Grieg said, “This is for you and Elizabeth, Paris. I had a crib brought in for the baby. The bathroom is stocked with all the things you’re likely to need for a newborn and if you need assistance, the staff will be happy to accommodate you.”
Turning to Dan and Cecil, he gestured down the hallway. “Your rooms are on either side. You can decide which you prefer.”
Paris walked into the bedroom. It was huge, containing tall curtained windows that allowed the southern sun to bathe the room with a bright glow. On one side of the room, an antique rocking cradle with curtains on the side sported a silk canopy. Dorri was sleeping so he laid her on the cradle’s mattress. It felt as soft as a cloud. Straightening, he gazed around, noticing the huge bed that dominated one wall.
Elizabeth leaned over the cradle and rearranged Dorri’s blankets. Glancing sideways at Paris, she said, “I’ll have to feed her soon.” Turning to look at Grieg, she asked, “Are there diapers in the bathroom?”
Grieg shrugged. “I imagine. I told them to stock it with everything your daughter might need –and I emphasized the word, ‘everything’, just to make sure. I haven’t a clue as to how to care for babies. If there’s anything missing just tell the maid and she’ll bring it.” He looked around the room as if to satisfy himself all was in place. “If you’re hungry there’s food on the sideboard in the dining room. I’ll have the food delivered here if you want. We’ll have formal dinner after Elizabeth has recuperated enough to attend. There are several Adepts from the minor Houses that belong to the Association staying here. I’d like you to meet them.”
“Thank you Grieg,” Elizabeth said. “You’ve been more than kind. I feel a little overwhelmed.”
Grieg bowed and kissed her hand. “You grace my home with your presence, Elizabeth. It’s nothing more than you deserve.” With that he departed the room.
Seeing Grieg leave the bedroom, Paris chuckled. “I think you have a new admirer, Beth.”
Elizabeth winked and drew an imaginary mark in the air with her finger. “How’s that for keeping score?” She laughed. “You’d better watch out. I may trade you in
for an upgrade.”
Paris drew her into his arms. “Not on your life. You’re mine and I’ve got a new daughter to prove it.”
Elizabeth looked at the cradle and sighed. “She is precious, isn’t she?”
“As precious as her mother,” Paris replied.
Elizabeth laid her head on his shoulder. “When I discovered the twin, I was so afraid something bad had happened to you. I never want to feel like that again.”
Paris nuzzled her hair. “Hopefully that’s the last of the Borgia threat, but there’s still one twin unaccounted for. Maybe we’ll learn something from the one in the secure room downstairs.”
“Paris, do you think we can ever have a normal life?” Elizabeth asked.
“It depends on your definition of normal, because we’re not...normal that is. We’re so far out of the normal range that it’s difficult to define what we are.” He looked down at Dorri’s sleeping form. “I wonder how it’ll affect her. We’ve already influenced her development. I can feel the connection persist even as she sleeps.
“Will she be like us or something entirely different?”
Chapter 21
A Brief Shadow History
The formal dinner was held in the main dining room. The long dining table could seat dozens of guests but the few in attendance were all grouped at one end. Elizabeth sat to the right of Grieg and Paris to the right of her. Cecil and Dan occupied the other side. In addition to them, six Adepts from the lesser Houses of the Association with what Paris assumed were their spouses or significant others were ranked on either side.
A servant came in rolling a cart with a large cake on it with one lit candle in the center.
Grieg rose from his seat holding his wineglass. “I’d like to propose a toast to the newest addition to the People. Miss Dorri Fox and her mother Elizabeth.”
The assembled guests, with the exception of Elizabeth, Paris, Dan and Cecil rose to their feet, looking expectantly at them. Feeling bewildered and a little self-conscious Paris rose and gestured to the others to do the same. Elizabeth remained seated. A chorus of “To Dorri” shouts came from the mouths of the guests and they resumed their seats.
“What was that all about?” Elizabeth asked.
Grieg opened his mouth to reply but a rotund man sporting a goatee and wearing glasses cleared his throat. “Let me tell them, Grieg.” He sat about midway on the opposite side diagonally from Paris, dabbing his mouth with a dinner napkin.
Grieg nodded to him and then turned to Elizabeth. “Beth, this is Hiram Cochran. He’s the Association’s unofficial, pontificating, resident historian. He knows more useless facts about the People than any of us. I imagine he’d love to bore us with them throughout the meal.”
“He’s got competition,” Paris said. “Anthony Anagnostopoulos can talk for hours on the subject.
“Hah!” Hiram interjected. “Tony’s the Council’s mouthpiece. He won’t reveal anything that’s not approved by them.” Jabbing his thumb in his chest, he continued. “I, on the other hand, can reveal all the dirty little secrets the Council doesn’t want you to know.” The other Adepts at the table listened attentively as he continued. “Our abysmal birthrate resulted in a tradition of celebrating each birth as though it would be the last. This was especially true of offspring from Adepts. Children born of an Adept were treated like royalty and if the birth was the union of two Adepts, the People went wild. Some Houses held extravagant celebrations lasting for days when such a baby was born. The expectation was that the child would turn out to be an Adept as well, although it seldom happened. Your child, Paris, although not the fruit of two Adepts, is the first female born in years. The People hold high expectations for her, so we celebrate her birth.” He settled back in his seat. “Speaking of Mademoiselle Dorri, I assume she’s unable to join us?”
“She’s sleeping, Elizabeth replied. “She’ll be doing a lot of that for awhile. One of Grieg’s servants is babysitting.”
“I understand,” Hiram replied, “but all of us are eager to see her.”
The soup dish arrived and quiet descended on the table, the only sound the clanking of spoons against bowls. Paris’ mind shifted through what Hiram had said, thinking about the implications. Tony had mentioned the Shadows low birth rate was nature’s revenge for their unnatural abilities, but he’d never indicated that a Shadow’s birth had attained a near divine status.
New wines accompanied the main course. While they ate, Paris decided to explore further.
Addressing Hiram, he said. “Your comment about my daughter’s birth is interesting. Just how bad is the problem of live births among the People?”
Hiram’s voice sounded bitter. “Bad enough to have been the immediate cause of World War Two.”
Grieg spoke up. “That view is extreme, Hiram.”
Turning to Paris, he added, “Hiram’s viewpoints aren’t shared by most of the Association.”
“That’s because you weren’t there, Grieg. I was.” Hiram said. “I was a young boy, but I understood the causes that started it.” Focusing once again on Paris he said, “The Association was created during the war, when the Houses that supported the Axis Powers decimated most of the progressive European Houses. The remnants of these Houses fled Europe and came to North America. Most of us settled in Canada and turned our efforts toward defeating their Nazis proxies. Only a handful of Houses settled in the United States. We’d been critically weakened by the devastation the war brought so we sought out groups of the People living in Canada and formed the Association.”
He paused to chew a bite of steak, staring at nothing. Then he resumed.
“But the main reason the war began was because the central European houses wanted our women to breed with. The Germanic Houses, the Italian Houses, even some of the Houses from Russia and France banded together and tried to force us to supply breeders. The Houses that started it were some of the most inbred of the lot. The Adepts were the aristocracy and the non-Adepts were treated like serfs or worse. Their Normal proxies were relegated to slave status.
“As progressive Houses, we had long ago recognized the problem and were attempting to integrate with the Normal human population. That’s why our birth rate had increased. We recognized and encouraged marriages between the People and Normals.”
Shaking his head he smiled but with a sad look in his eyes. “They couldn’t tolerate it. To them our ideals were an abomination. They viewed the women of the progressive Houses as nothing more than cattle, breeding cattle. My mother was one of them.”
He lapsed into silence and stared at his half finished meal.
“What happened to them?” Elizabeth asked.
Hiram looked up and focused on her. “No one knows. Most of them were killed by the war or the concentration camps.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “Sure, we had our revenge, the Germanic Houses were destroyed and the others weakened to impotency. But the thing I regret most is that Italy dropped out of the war too soon and left the Borgia House intact. We should have eliminated those bastards.”
Paris agreed with him but didn’t voice it. He decided to talk more with Hiram after dinner.
* * *
Paris accompanied Elizabeth down to the sublevels of the estate. She’d insisted on being present during the interrogation of the twin so one of Grieg’s female servants minded Dorri.
There was no elevator. The only access to the subfloors was by a narrow stairway just wide enough for two people. At each floor, a locked door and vigilant guard prevented further access. The twin was incarcerated on the third floor.
Reaching the third level, Paris looked up at the winding stairwell. “We’ll have to take it easy when we climb.”
Elizabeth followed his gaze and elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t worry about me. I need the exercise. Come on. I want to talk to our Paris lookalike.”
Passing the guarded door, they entered a corridor with steel doors lining either side. At the far end of the corridor a guard sat at a desk watching moni
tors.
When they reached the guard he looked up. “They’re in the interrogation room, Mr. Fox. It’s the door behind you and on my right. I’ll buzz you in.” He pressed a button.
A red light glowed at the top of the indicated door. Paris stepped over and opened it, allowing Elizabeth to enter first.
They stood at the top of a small gallery. At the foot, a wide window stretched from wall to wall. Grieg Pierson and a Hiram Cochran sat in the bottom row watching two men working with a third man, Paris’ twin.
Paris was amazed at the resemblance. It was like looking at himself in the mirror. He assisted Elizabeth to descend the three steps of the gallery and at the bottom they sat next to Grieg and Hiram.
“I assume this is one-way glass?” Paris asked.
Grieg nodded. “We haven’t learned much,” he replied. “The imposter’s heavily imprinted.”
“What do you mean by ‘imprinted’,” Elizabeth asked. “I thought that term only applied to animal behavior.”
“Alex and I encountered the term when we met our first Borgias,” Paris said. “They had been haunting the farmhouse, and when I caught them, they were physically unable to reveal who sent them. All the Adepts are imprinted by the council as a condition of being accepted as an Adept. Think of it as a more extreme type of patterning. A good Adept can alter a pattern or eliminate it completely but an imprint is like a scratch in an old vinyl recording. You can still play the record, but it’ll always have that annoying popping noise.”
Seeing a look of revulsion on Elizabeth’s face, Grieg added, “There’s good reason for imprinting an Adept, Beth. A rogue Adept can create havoc and an Adept must agree to the imprint otherwise it won’t work.”
