"Lissa has news for you, Honored One," Merrill said, first thing. One of Wlodek's eyebrows rose slightly. "Tell him about the misters," Merrill urged as I sat down in one of the chairs. Gavin hadn't said anything, so I didn't say anything to him. Did he know about Kifirin? Had somebody told him? I was worried, suddenly. Gavin, like Wlodek, had something in his hand that he was toying with but I couldn't see what it was.
"I learned from a vampire on Refizan that the misters and mindspeakers have Elemaiyan blood," I began, watching Wlodek's face. "He told me that the ones who go bad all have Dark Elemaiyan blood. The others have Bright Elemaiyan blood. Saxom's misters all had Dark Elemaiyan blood. I got a good scent off both and I can smell the Elemaiya, now, both Bright and Dark."
"You're sure about this?" Wlodek sounded only half-interested. I wondered then what else was occupying his mind.
"Yeah. After I got the scent, I knew right away that Henri and Gervais, as well as Robert and Albert, all have Bright Elemaiyan blood."
"So, if someone were to walk up to you—a human—you would be able to tell if they had this blood?" Uh-oh. I'd trapped myself and probably some poor, mostly-human schmucks out there.
"Ye-es," I'd gone cautious suddenly and Wlodek knew it.
"We will discuss this later," Wlodek sighed. "There are other, more important things that we must speak of tonight." Someday, maybe I'd learn to read the signs—the ones that say the cliff with the big drop-off is only a step or two away and now's the time to turn tail and run just as fast as you can in the opposite direction. Nope—I have to fall over the cliff. Head right toward the bottom, in fact, because I never see it coming.
"Lissa, you are not a Queen," Wlodek said, first thing. "You are susceptible to compulsion, although your other talents are formidable." The creeping hand of fear was reaching toward my heart, ready to grasp it and squeeze. I wasn't frightened yet, however—far from it, in fact. So far, Wlodek was only repeating what I already knew. Or what they already knew, or thought they knew.
"We have learned that Xenides is actively searching for you, wishing to capture you and put those talents to use for his own twisted purposes."
Okay, as news went, that wasn't so good. But if I ever caught up with Xenides, it was going to be a battle royal, let me tell you. I wouldn't give up until one of us was dead.
"We cannot allow Xenides to get his hands on you, Lissa. The fate of the world could hang in the balance if he does. He could use you in terrible ways, moro mou. That I will not countenance. While you were away, the Council and I decided to move your marriage to Gavin forward and it was performed in absentia. Your marriage has been duly recorded in the Council's records."
Stunned might have been a good word. I couldn't move or breathe for a few moments; all I could do was stare at Wlodek, gasping like a fish, I'm sure.
"But what does marriage have to do with Xenides or anything else?" I almost couldn't get the words out, I was so shocked. They'd done this behind my back. Couldn't they have waited until I returned, at least, and let me argue my side before just hauling off and doing this, without my knowledge or consent?
"The Council," Wlodek hesitated for a second or two, "will look the other way if a spouse lays compulsion on his mate or companion, if it is in the mate's or companion's best interests."
That was the bomb and as bombs go, it was quite effective, shattering everything around me. Splintering it, in fact. They were going to allow Gavin to hold me under his thumb. He was going to dictate everything I did from that point forward. There would never be freedom for me. Ever. Of any kind. Gavin, and more than likely Wlodek, would decide if I went anywhere. Did anything. I'd be told where to eat, how to dress, when to blink. That last thought was the one that brought my anger to the fore. And it was blazing hot, let me tell you.
Chapter 13
I whirled on Gavin first. "What happened to that promise you made—that all my decisions would be my own where you were concerned?" I was nearly shouting at him.
"Lissa, the circumstances have changed!" Wlodek was getting in on this, now. Well, he was about to get it, too.
"You scheming old warlock!" I spun around and shouted at him. Yes, I called the Head of the Vampire Council a name and yelled at him; that had probably not happened in, well, forever. But then the evidence had been in front of him all along, he'd just been too stupid to ask the right questions. "Do you think for even one minute that the fucking vampire that showed up at the hotel in New Mexico didn't try to place compulsion? Do you?" I was breathing with difficulty and shivering at the same time. "Because he most certainly did," I yelled. "And you know what? It didn't work. Merrill's compulsion before that didn't work either. I could have misted right out of that holding cell where I was kept afterward at any time—only I didn't, because I just figured you guys would hunt me down and have me killed. Yeah, that's right, I was afraid. I figured that you'd just have your pet Assassin over there kill me while I slept if I stepped out of line, I was so afraid of you." I flung my arm toward Gavin. "Well, this time you've gone past that. I'm tired of being afraid. Take your best shot, Wlodek. Place compulsion. Feel free. Because I assure you it will not work and when I mist out of here, if you see me again you can kiss my ass!"
I got up out of the chair in a blur and headed straight for the door. "Lissa!" Wlodek shouted, the compulsion thundering in his voice, "Come back this instant!"
"That shit doesn't work on me anymore," I gritted, whirling to face him as I slowly turned to mist. "But keep trying—maybe you'll have a breakthrough." I turned completely to mist and shot out of there so fast it was blinding, almost.
* * *
Gavin slid to the floor of Wlodek's study, his head buried in his hands. Merrill still sat in the same chair he'd chosen when he first came in. Wlodek was up and pacing, muttering profanity in Greek.
"Well, Wlodek, you had a little Queen all along," Merrill ventured to say. He'd understood the Greek, all right—Wlodek was cursing himself. Lissa had been right—if any of them had thought to ask—but they hadn't. She'd told them she'd gotten away from the vampire in New Mexico. It only made sense he would try to place compulsion right away. Merrill hadn't realized that his hadn't worked. Griffin had said Lissa was special but Merrill had never questioned that statement. He should have. They'd all frightened her. Gavin had been right in that respect; they were all males and Lissa had grown up afraid of males in authority. Her stepfather had seen to that. They all knew now that he hadn't been Lissa's real father, just as he'd claimed. He'd gone to extremes as a result, punishing Lissa and her mother over that fact.
"We need her back. Now!" Wlodek started speaking English again. "This changes many things. We still need to protect her; she is still young as a vampire and her training is not complete. But a Queen," Wlodek's voice was almost reverent.
"How do you propose we get her back?" Merrill was as calm as he could be under the circumstances. He glanced over at Gavin, who was still in the floor, about to experience a meltdown.
"If you ask the proper person, it might be arranged," Griffin appeared in Wlodek's study, lifting a paperweight off the corner of Wlodek's desk. It was a huge gold coin, minted by the Royal Canadian Mint and valued at approximately a million dollars, U.S.
Gavin lifted his head and growled, although he hadn't moved; Wlodek and Merrill were accepting the sudden appearance with calm.
"Don't growl at me, you deserve what you're getting right now," Griffin chided.
"Don't threaten Griffin, you'll be sorry, I promise," Merrill added. "Will you bring back my little girl?" He asked the retired Saa Thalarr.
"I'll bring her back, but she's not your little girl," Griffin replied.
"He's her surrogate sire," Wlodek interrupted haughtily. Merrill, however, was looking strangely at Griffin.
"What is going on?" he demanded.
"My punishment is lifted," Griffin offered his friend a sunny smile. "Lissa isn't your little girl. Has never been your little girl and won't ever truly be your littl
e girl. Go ahead; ask me how I know this."
"All right, I concede. How do you know this?" Merrill stared at Griffin. The light went on suddenly, however. "I should have known," Merrill almost laughed with relief. "You know who her real father is, don't you?"
"Oh, yes," Griffin nodded. "I went looking for her mother, you know. She was a quarter Bright Elemaiya. As was I, before I was turned. Lissa's mine. And if any of you mistreat her again, you'll answer to me."
* * *
I was back in my bedroom in a matter of minutes, gathering up my cell phone and what little cash I had in my underwear drawer. I couldn't take Merrill's credit card; they'd track me that way. I was shaking harder, now; reaction was setting in from what I'd done. Wlodek would send his Enforcers and his Assassins after me and since Sebastian was dead, that left only Gavin and Trevor. They'd do their best to kill me if they found me; no way could they force me with compulsion to come back for a sentencing by the Council.
Franklin and Greg didn't know I'd come back and that was for the best, I think. I wouldn't be putting either one in jeopardy by letting them know what happened. I left Merrill's credit card on my bedside table, jerking Gavin's ring off my finger and leaving it there as well. He'd stepped over the line and I was so angry and hurt over that, I didn't know what to do. He'd been prepared to treat me that way, placing compulsion over everything. I'd never be able to choose my friends or who I spoke to or laughed with. I'd be jailed and brought out once in a while like the good silver, only to be put away immediately after, once my service was complete. I couldn't live like that. It was a lie, after all. Oh, I could pretend, but there would come a day when I wouldn't be able to stand it any longer and they'd find out anyway.
Less than ten minutes it took to mist into London, but I had no idea where to go or what to do. Everything except pubs and bars was closed. I materialized outside a pub near Whitehall, pulled out my cell phone and scrolled through the numbers. There was only one person I knew who might be able to help me and I was still angry with him, too. That left either Weldon or Winkler. I hit Winkler's number on speed dial. He picked up on the second ring.
"Lissa?" He sounded surprised to hear from me. I suppose he should be.
"Winkler, I'm having a bit of a problem," I said. "I just pissed off Wlodek, Gavin and Merrill and now I'm running away from home. If you don't want to get involved in this because it could become dangerous for you, then I'll understand."
"Lissa, whatever you need, it's yours," Winkler's voice was warm and caring and right then I might have given anything to have his arms to lean on. I was frightened out of my wits, to be honest.
"That's just it, I don't know what I need," I sniffed. I was about to cry and doing my best not to. "I have a little cash, but I had to leave my credit card behind; they'll track me. They may be able to do it anyway, if I have to show my ID or Passport."
"Hold on, let me get Weldon on the phone," Winkler said. I heard buttons being pushed. Weldon came on the line in seconds. Winkler explained what he knew so far.
"Lissa, Paul is in Paris with Tony Hancock's brother at the moment, otherwise I'd have him pick you up," Weldon sighed. "They still hold out hope that they can find who bombed Tony's hotel."
"Tony's hotel got bombed?" This was the first I'd heard of it.
"Lissa, Tony got killed—they say his body was destroyed, along with several others. That terrorist, Rahim Alif? He's taken responsibility."
My fingers had gone numb; I nearly dropped the phone and I felt so cold and so incredibly alone, right then, I wasn't sure I was still on the planet. "You didn't know?" Winkler figured it out after I'd gone silent. "Lissa, it happened six days ago, baby."
"Wh-where is Paul in Paris?" I definitely wanted to cry now and wiped tears off my face. Tony was dead? That couldn't be. It just couldn't.
"Lissa, I'll call him and have him call you, all right?" Weldon heard my sniffling, I'm sure.
"All right," I stifled a sob and hung up. I didn't have a thing with me to wipe away the tears, but a very nice woman who walked out of the pub gave me a handful of tissues and asked if I needed anything. I told her that I only needed the tissues, so she smiled and patted my shoulder before leaving with her date. There were still nice people in the world, after all; they didn't all want to blow up hotels that had people inside that I cared about.
Paul called me a few minutes later. He had a beautiful accent. "Lissa? The Grand Master tells me you might need my help."
"Honey, I hope we can help each other," I wiped my cheeks again. "I just need to get to you; I hope I can track down the asshole that did this to Tony."
"Where are you, darlin'?" He knew I was crying.
"In front of a pub near Whitehall," I said, giving him the name.
"How about I have someone pick you up? I think I can get you to Paris tonight; I have friends at NSY. They can arrange something, I think."
Paul should have friends at New Scotland Yard; he'd helped crack the child murder case that was plaguing the U.K. recently. "Just hang tight," he added. "Someone will be there shortly. If not, I'll call you back."
"Okay," I said and ended the call. It took less than twenty minutes before a police car pulled up.
"Are you Lissa Huston?" The policeman got out of his car and came over to talk to me.
"Yes," I said. "Did Paul send you?"
"He did. I'm to take you to the airport; do you have your passport with you?"
"Yes," I pulled it from my purse and showed it to him.
"Good enough," he smiled. He had blond hair, green eyes and a nice smile, helping me into the car before climbing in and driving away. "This jet belongs to a business magnate who happens to be traveling to France this evening," the officer, who identified himself as Raymond Jeffries, informed me. He walked with me to the end of the jet's steps and I climbed up. There was an attendant waiting just inside the door, and she greeted me by name. "Mr. Harding is inside his office, conducting business," the woman said. "Please have a seat and buckle yourself in; we'll be leaving shortly."
"Thank you," I said. I figured my face still showed evidence of my tears so I pulled a small mirror from my purse and tried to set myself to rights as the attendant closed the door and let the pilot know that everything was ready. We took off fifteen minutes later.
The flight from London to Paris isn't a long one; little more than two hundred miles. It was no time before we were landing at Charles de Gaulle. Paul and another werewolf were there to meet me; I figured he had to be Tony's brother and that thought almost caused me to break down again. "Come on, let's get you to the hotel," Paul was holding me up as best he could as we walked toward their rental car. Deryn Alford, Tony's half-brother, put me in the front seat while Paul drove. Deryn sat in the back.
"We'll take you out tomorrow night and see if we can find anything," Paul promised as we drove to the hotel. "We have a meeting with some of the local authorities tomorrow," he added.
"All right," I nodded. "I want to warn you, what I have on is all I have at the moment." I hadn't bothered to take any of my clothing with me.
"We'll work on that, too. Mr. Winkler said he would reimburse us for all your expenses." I just nodded my head so I wouldn't start crying again.
They put me in a hotel room; it was right across the hall from theirs and I learned that night that somehow the translation skills that I'd gotten while on Refizan were still working. I understood everything that was said in French around me. I wasn't about to try my skill at speaking the language in case I tripped over my own tongue. The French weren't forgiving if you butchered their language.
* * *
"We had a little help," Paul handed over three bags of clothing to me; I was wrapped in a towel after my shower. At least I had a comb in my purse so my hair wasn't a tangled mess on my head.
"Thanks," I said. I'd gotten up and found a bag of blood in one of the hotel's ice buckets beside my bed. Paul had kept the extra key card to my room the night before and somehow he'd managed to g
et my dinner. The clothes were just a bonus.
"Who helped?" I asked, peeking inside the bags. Jeans and tops, along with a pair of athletic shoes were inside the first one, underwear and other necessities were inside the others.
"A female werewolf," Paul coughed a little.
"Tell her thanks," I said, and started laying clothing out on the bed. She'd even laundered it for me, which meant I owed her big time.
After I dressed, we went out. Deryn hadn't said much to me yet, allowing Paul to do most of the talking. Deryn had brown hair to Tony's black, and that plus his nose were the biggest differences. I didn't know what to do with the other information I had—Tony was supposed to be Deryn's half-brother but I couldn't make the scent connection. Maybe it was because I was upset; I didn't know. We drove first to the site of the bombing, but much of it had been combed through already. Nevertheless, I found the spot where Tony had been.
"He was here," I said, pulling a bit of debris aside. Very little had been cleaned up as yet and I'd had to place compulsion to get where we were. The scent of Tony's blood was all over this one little space, which puzzled me. If he'd been blown to bits, the scent of it shouldn't have been as strong as it was and it would have been scattered. It wasn't and I explained that to Deryn and Paul. There was also another scent but it wasn't nearly enough to sort out; the blood and death smell all around took care of that. I moved away a little, catching more of Tony's scent, but once again, it was localized, like drops of blood or something. Holy fuck.
Blood Domination (Blood Destiny #4) Page 22
