by Aila Cline
I bit my cheek in anger, but said nothing. Instead I asked, “I thought if the parent is human, then the baby doesn’t become a were—a Lycanthrope.”
“Who told you such a stupid lie? There always exists the possibility that the gene will not manifest, but the gene will always exist.” He leaned forward, his arms resting loosely on the expansive desk in front of him, his voice dropping to a low tone I had never heard from him. “Maria found a way to keep him human, to make sure that the gene never surfaced.”
Will had never told me that. He had always assumed he was naturally human because of his father. Lenora and I had spent an entire year trying to unsuccessfully ferret out this secret of how the Lycanthrope could willingly keep their children human if they chose. “How did she do it?”
Ranier chuckled. “That knowledge rests with Clan elders. It is not for reckless Lycanti.”
“My son…”
“Will have a choice if you insist, before his Change, preferably at the age of 10. It is not your choice to make.”
Luka had said the same thing to me concerning Micah’s future.
“So what does any of this matter?” I demanded.
“It matters because Luka’s son by you is de puro sangue. The professor who Changed William was his aunt on his father’s side.”
I recalled the overtly sexual way that the professor had used Will before Changing him. “Ew.”
“Yes, the whole thing stinks of too much American influence, but overall, we have an almost unbroken chain of pure blood. You, by way of being Will’s Changeling, carry on that blood, and Micah carries it through you and Luka.”
“Luka doesn’t care about any of that.”
“Luka is not head of this house.”
That caught me off guard. “Wait a minute. What could you possibly want with Micah? Luka has a son, a legitimate one by Brooke.”
Ranier shrugged, as if Alexander didn’t matter. “Brooke is not good blood. Her creation stems from a renegade leading the Lycanti named Joshua, who should know better than to Change one of the Fey. They are dangerous as Lycanti. She has sangue ruim. Bad blood. No heir of mine will ever possess such vile substance.”
I gasped. “Josh? Josh is Brooke’s maker?”
His smile did not reach his eyes. “You did not know?”
“But her eyes…they’re green! And…” I hesitated due to the illumination of my ignorance on the matters of Blood. “Josh is Lycanti.”
“Ah, so you have noticed that there are certain genetic markers dominant in our blood lines and that a Lycanthrope must be the maker, have you? Very good. Your ignorance was beginning to concern me.”
“It’s not possible, is it?” I said through clenched teeth. “It can’t be possible. Will told me…”
“The truth. Brooke’s eyes would have originally been of our Blood, but repeated ingestion of her lover’s blood or other body fluids will have subtly influenced the color. If you look closely, you will see that Brooke’s eyes have very much blue in them.”
“Will…She and Will…”
Ranier nodded, letting me absorb all the knowledge laid on me. He motioned for me to stand.
“But that means that Josh…”
“Is of my own house, yes. A second cousin from the original Russian line, actually,” he added. Before I could even fathom a response, he simply said, “Walk with me to my gardens.”
“I don’t understand,” I mumbled. But I followed, as if in a trance. I didn’t particularly care about the old man’s gardens, but all of the information swirling in that little room was too much for me. I really did need to get out, and he must have sensed that.
Hatred for Brooke surged afresh within me. It now looked as if my plans might transform with this new knowledge. How would I get word to Lenora? I now knew that Ranier would get Micah back no matter what—and that I was completely expendable to him. Of course, I could tell him the truth: that Micah was also of the bastard Blood and had no claim whatsoever to the mantle of the Brazilian clan. I also had to consider that Ranier must genuinely dislike Brooke since he was willing to replace her with no more than my word and having seen the chemistry that existed between Luka and me.
Suddenly it was crystal clear to me: I had to make myself invaluable to this cold mans’ future plans, but how? There was only one way I could think of, and it made me shiver with disgust. I had done a lot of sickening things in my life—killed my lover, seduced a married man, killed a priest, devoured human flesh, planned to destroy an entire subspecies—but even this felt like it bordered on insanity.
Making Ranier crave me so intensely that he would demand me kept alive—at least until Micah was safely in my arms—would take skill and more than a little nerve…and maybe some antacids.
His sharp voice called me back to the current moment. “We will leave after the betrayer moon.”
I looked around. We had made it to his garden without me even taking note of walking through the expansive hallways and through sitting rooms. Everything seemed to be exploding into bloom, colors everywhere. All I could do was echo his words.
“The betrayer moon?” I asked, puzzled.
“Bah, the ignorance of you Americans. What is the word for this phenomenon?” He seemed lost in thought for a moment before giving up. He pointed to the sky, where currently the bright sun shone overhead. “It occurs when there is a second moon in a single month. We will have the betrayer moon next week. The Change will be the most painful of your short life so far,” he added, almost gleefully. “Your muscles will stretch and tear as they never have, forced to Change again so soon after the last moon’s cycle.”
“Oh shit,” I murmured. “The blue moon.”
Suddenly his hands found my shoulders and crawled up my neck, sending ghostly tingles down my spine. “I am glad you see the significance. It is why we call it by its ancient name of ‘Betrayer.’ None of us enjoy its actions. But you will learn to conquer the pain or die trying, young one.” His teeth nipped my sensitive flesh, and I swallowed heavily. “We all pay the price of the damned, and you are no exception.”
His hands moved from my shoulders, to my neck, to my breasts, and as much as I wanted to push him away, I knew this could be the only way I would save my child. I let his lips and teeth test the limits of my flesh that day.
Shasta
It was just us girls that night: Delilah, Rachel, Lenora, and me. It was one in the morning, and the kids were in bed. I was enjoying the feeling of being with my friends again after being away so long. Delilah and Rachel chattered back and forth about Rachel’s latest interior designing contract. Lenora was mixing whisky into cups of blood for all of us. We were going to toast and celebrate my recruitment efforts. For once, the celebrations were for me. It was such a nice feeling.
I was the only one who noticed when she completely stopped and stared off into the distance. I got up and walked over to her.
“Lenora? What’s wrong?” I took the cup that she absently held in midair.
Her face became animated with a look of horror. “Everything’s changed.” She turned to Rachel and Delilah, who had risen from the table at her outburst. “We’ve got to move. We’ve got to get to Mexico.”
“Lenora,” Delilah began. “It’s the middle of the night, sweetie. We don’t have our passports, and how are we going to get there?”
“Those things don’t matter!” Lenora said frantically. “If we don’t get down there, we’ll lose him. We’ll lose little Micah.”
Rachel pursed her lips. “But what about all of this? Here?”
Lenora turned to me, her eyes alighting on my face as if she were just seeing me for the first time. All the bitterness over Rachel’s rejection of me and acceptance of Emily, every single shard of anger I felt over always being the last of everyone’s concern and being treated like a child, and the loneliness I had created in my own mind melted when she turned to me.
“Shasta?” she said, her lip quivering slightly. “Can you do this, young one? Are
you willing to take this risk?”
Suddenly, the world was blue. Not the mellow blue of an ocean, but cold, clear blue of Luka’s eyes. It was only for a split second, but it brought back all the anger and the hurt I had been living these past few months while I traveled, alone, to gather the Children here. They loved me. They are the ones who are standing beside me now. Lenora is the one who summoned us and gave us a purpose. Gave me a purpose. I was so overwhelmed with emotion that I almost choked on the words as I said them.
“Of course. I will destroy them for you, Lenora. For all of us. The Children will never starve again. I swear it.”
If you enjoyed this work, please check out the first novel of the series, The Reluctant, and the follow up, The Betrayed.
