08 Blood War-Blood Destiny

by Suttle, Connie

  Roff had gone back to my suite with me earlier, never said a thing and lay down beside me while I stared at the ceiling. His hand crept toward mine eventually, until my fingers were clasped tightly in his. We’d stayed that way until we had to get off the bed, clean up and get dressed.

  I worried about my Spawn Hunters, but had to put it out of my mind. I would be meeting the newly formed Council from New Hesperia, and it made me wish for Garde or Aurelius to back me up. I wasn't comfortable about this, and felt vulnerable without their presence. Aurelius was off killing spawn somewhere and didn't need to worry about an uneasy Vampire Queen. Garde had a meeting on Kifirin to attend in his official role as Prime Minister. Besides, I'd taken up enough of his time.

  The vampire driver, who seemed happy to be driving the Queen around, opened our doors for us. I guess that gave him status or something. How was I to know? The Council for New Hesperia was there to greet us formally, as we were ushered inside City Hall. Kifirin must have manufactured marble from thin air, I thought as we walked up grand steps and into the building. New Hesperia's City Hall housed multiple offices, a meeting chamber, a kitchen area which held shelves of blood substitute and a bank of refrigerators quietly humming, keeping blood substitute cold in case you preferred it that way.

  "We would like for more of the comesuli come to visit," the Head of the newly formed Council informed me as we were shown to their Council chamber. He was around five-ten or so and looked twenty-two, although his scent said close to a thousand. He also had blond hair, almost the color Gabron's had been. I was trying to keep that from having any influence over my first impression of him, which wasn't very good, to be honest. I wasn't itchy, but felt on the verge of it, somehow.

  He was demanding more comesuli, too. That was preposterous. We divided them among the existing cities as it was, according to population. The city councils were supposed to portion out the taking of fresh blood fairly among their constituents.

  "You are getting as much as we can send," I said. "So many are pregnant right now, and we portion out the ones eligible for the bite fairly," I responded to his complaint.

  "We thought we would be getting more fresh blood," the guy continued to whine.

  "What is your name?" He hadn't given it, yet, only introducing himself as the Head of the Council.

  "Geratt, Raona," he replied, pronouncing the G as a J.

  "Geratt, were you promised anything before you came, other than a place to stay on Le-Ath Veronis?" I asked.

  "But the rumors all said we'd get fresh blood."

  "How much have you had since you arrived?" I asked.

  "I have gotten to drink twice," he muttered, sounding angry.

  "How much fresh blood did you get, where you lived before?"

  "None, it was forbidden," he grumbled.

  "Perhaps you'd like to go back there." I wasn't going to listen to much more of this. He'd gotten a taste for blood from the source, and looked to be on his way to becoming addicted. Apparently, Rigo thought the same; he was frowning at Geratt.

  I made a mental note to check with the comesuli who'd come here, just to make sure they weren't abused when they offered blood. It looked like these might not have been trained to take blood properly, and I was out of patience with anybody who might mistreat the comesuli. Roff, too, wasn't happy with this guy. Thurlow had as good a non-expression going as any I'd seen. I didn't have time to wonder about him for perhaps the fiftieth time.

  "Come, let us walk through New Hesperia," Geratt offered, noticing, finally, that he was in a minority about getting additional fresh blood. We walked out of City Hall with him, past the inevitable courtyard and down the center street leading up to City Hall. We passed a few grand manors, quite a few nicer homes and some that were more than adequate. The latter didn't seem to be occupied—the new residents had claimed all the nicer properties.

  "My home is down this street," Geratt informed us as we walked along. I noted the street sign—the street was named after him. How nice. Of course, his mansion was at the end of the block and took up most of the cul-de-sac, wrapping around the circular area in a U-shape. Well, weren't we uptown? "I am looking forward to my first meeting at the palace tomorrow," Geratt smiled. Odds are he'd try to dominate it, too. We'd see how that turned out.

  "Please, come and see what I've done with the house," Geratt went on. Heathe and Davan were already headed in that direction.

  "Lady," Thurlow took my arm, just as my skin began to itch. I drew in a huge breath as wooden shafts were shot around us from nearly every angle. I turned everything around me to mist as swiftly as possible, mentally screaming out a distress call to anyone listening. What I wasn't expecting was for Erland and Wylend to show up, nor what they did when they got there. Anything on that street that wasn't mist was burned to cinders in three blinks. Now I was seeing just what it was that Karathian Warlocks could do.

  Chapter 9

  When I came back to corporeality, turning everything else within my mist as well, that's when I learned just what those shafts had done. Davan was already dead and Heathe nearly so.

  "No!" I shouted, struggling to get to Heathe before the last spark of life was gone. Cleo, healer that she was, got there ahead of me and nearly landed on top of Heathe, glowing like the sun. Davan was turning to ash as I knelt next to him and wept.

  * * *

  Sixteen piles of vampire ash—that's what we found behind houses—six behind Geratt's manor alone. Garde and Aryn had shown up quickly; I was staring at Geratt as he sat at a table at City Hall, looking guilty as hell. Rigo had the other Council members off to the side—he'd placed a compulsion to end all compulsions, I think, and he was glaring at all of them. I pitied any one of them who might be involved in this.

  Davan had been my uncle. Had been. We'd only known each other for a short time. He'd been so good—so grateful, even—for the job he'd been given, and the place he had at the palace. I wanted to cry again over his loss, along with so many other things. Roff stood beside me, a hand stroking my jaw and neck carefully as he watched Garde question Geratt after Aryn placed compulsion.

  "Tell me everything you know of this attack." Garde was blowing a lot of smoke. If his smaller Thifilathi came, we'd all have to leave and I figured Geratt would be dead quickly.

  "They assured me it would be clean and swift," Geratt whined.

  Where did you think you would hide afterward?" Aryn asked.

  "I was promised transport back to Brisdan, if it appeared I might be implicated."

  "How much?" Erland and Wylend were still there, and Erland now had Geratt's shirt gripped in his fist. "How much did they promise you for this? Because I can assure you, they meant for you to die here so they could keep the money for themselves. Only Lissa's quick thinking saved your sorry hide from those arrows, which killed her uncle, by the way."

  Garde was still blowing smoke, but seemed content to have the Warlock do some threatening. Thurlow was at the back of the room, watching everything and everybody. We learned that three humanoids had hired Geratt and twenty vampires to kill me, for half the fifty million promised by Black Mist. Three vampires had escaped and the humanoid masterminds were staying somewhere in Casino City, waiting to pay Geratt for my assassination.

  Cleo had taken Heathe and Grant back to the palace; Heath had been really shaky but alive when she'd folded them away. I figured he'd be getting plenty of blood substitute the minute he got back. I looked up at Roff.

  "Lissa, I am sorry," he leaned down and kissed me gently, wiping the stubborn tears away afterward.

  "Me, too, honey," I put an arm around his waist and buried my head against his shoulder.

  * * *

  "I see them." Rigo spoke quietly to Aryn, Garde, Thurlow and Erland. Three men were gambling at a table nearby. Geratt had given names and descriptions. The names were assumed, but it was easy enough to fit the descriptions to the accents Geratt provided. It was a simple matter afterward to track down where they were gambling. A vampire
pit crew manned the craps table, and they knew not to say anything when Erland and Garde walked up.

  "Please, come with us," Erland smiled pleasantly at the three. When one tried to bolt, Rigo had a hand on his shoulder and claws digging in. He came along quietly after that. A room was provided by casino management for questioning—the owner knew Erland well. He also knew better than to interfere.

  "Now, you will tell us everything," Aryn placed compulsion. The three gulped and nodded.

  * * *

  "Will you tell Griffin?" Wylend was saying good-bye, so I asked him to pass the news of Davan's death along—Davan was his brother, after all. Yes, I knew what Griffin had done. To me and to Roff. I had no idea whether there was a way to restore Roff's memories completely or if their restoration would only cause further grief at this point. Roff had come to me somehow, whether he remembered or not. I was still trying to decide if I wished to speak to my natural father from now on. I did have one other request, however.

  "Tell him I'd like Roff's ring back," I added. That caused Wylend's eyebrows to lift a little. "Don't pretend you don't know, Em-pah," I sighed. I was tired. I'd just lost another person I cared about and wondered if I had any male family members left who truly loved me. I think Kyler and Cleo might be in my corner most of the time, but I didn't know where they stood on Griffin or if they even knew what he'd done to keep Wyatt away from the Green Fae.

  "Granddaughter, I didn't know until it was over," Wylend said. "And I'd like to brush that tear away, but I don't think you'd let me touch you right now."

  "I don't know that I'll let any male relative touch me again," I said and turned away.

  * * *

  "You know about Davan." Wylend studied his son's face—Griffin had been waiting for him when he arrived on Karathia.

  "Yes. This is going to hurt Jeral."

  "It hurt your daughter. She knows, Brenten. She wants you to give Roff's ring back."

  "I was afraid to Look," Griffin nodded, refusing to meet Wylend's gaze.

  "Child, I hope you are done harming her emotionally," Wylend went on. "I would like to repair what little relationship I have with her."

  "I thought I was done harming her," Griffin said. "Until Wyatt came along, causing things to shift."

  "Do you love her at all?"

  "She does not love me."

  "That is not the question I asked. Or has your son taken up all the love you might have for a child, now, and Lissa has become disposable?"

  "Lissa shouldn't have been disposable," Griffin replied. "But her stepfather made her distrustful of any father figure. I had an uphill climb with her, every step of the way."

  "And when you set her down in front of thousands of Ra'Ak and told her people would die if she didn't do something about it, that didn't improve things, did it? Especially since you'd admitted to her that she'd been the answer to the problems you were seeing and that you deliberately went looking for her mother, merely to produce the solution to those problems. That makes any child thankful for their life." Wylend didn't employ sarcasm often, but he used it now. "Child, look at me and tell me that you would still speak to me if I'd used you so grievously," Wylend tilted Griffin's face up with a finger.

  "I wouldn't. I wouldn't forgive you, either."

  "I know."

  * * *

  Kiarra had come with her three mates—Merrill, Adam and Pheligar stood with her. My two Larentii were there as well when I explained to Jeral, as best I could, what happened to Davan.

  "At least I know you loved him," Jeral wiped his eyes. I was crying, too, and Roff was beside me, offering tissues.

  "I did." I almost didn't get the words out; my voice broke. Cleo had to put Grant under and Heathe was sleeping, too. Davan had become such friends with both of them that I didn't know how they were going to deal with his death. "We can do a memorial in a day or two, if you want."

  "I would like that," Jeral sighed. Davan was his brother, in addition to being his youngest vampire child.

  "Jeral, come with us," Kiarra was urging him away; I was about to break down completely. Roff, Connegar, Reemagar and I left my study and Gavin, Tony, Drake and Drew were waiting outside. Karzac folded in as soon as we reached my suite.

  "I will stay with Lissa," Roff announced as Karzac came toward me, fingers heading toward my forehead.

  "Nice to see you, too, honey," I said before he touched me and I was out like a light.

  * * *

  "Get her undressed and put her to bed," Karzac ordered. Gavin was holding her up; she'd collapsed when Karzac placed the healing sleep.

  "We will assist Roff; the others here need sleep, they are weary from killing spawn," Reemagar said. Connegar herded everyone else from the bedroom—they'd cleared quite a bit of spawn from a planet light-years away and were exhausted. The news of Davan's death hadn't helped, or the fact that Lissa had been attacked while they were away.

  * * *

  "I am required to notify the Alliance that we're holding them," Thurlow said, as the three men were locked inside the palace dungeons. They'd admitted under compulsion that they'd planned to take the Queen down, only they'd hired others to do it for them. Vampires seemed to be the logical choice, and they'd offered half of Black Mist's reward for evidence of the Queen's death.

  They thought their plan couldn't fail. They'd hidden their tracks (or so they'd thought), and meant to collect the entire reward after their hired vampires killed the Queen. They'd counted on the Queen's guards tracking and killing the vampires involved afterward, never suspecting that a single vampire might live over it.

  Geratt was in a cell separated from the others, so they couldn't reach or speak with one another. Geratt wore the cuffs to contain a vampire. Cell bars did well enough for the others.

  "Do what you have to do, Thurlow, but remember these have conspired to kill the Queen. We won't be sending these back to the Alliance. This justice is ours," Garde snorted as he glared at the three humanoids.

  "As the law allows," Thurlow agreed. A lesser crime would have sent the perpetrators home to their own world's justice. Murder or conspiracy to commit murder allowed the world on which the crime was committed to pass sentence.

  "What are we going to do about the three vampires who are missing?" Rigo asked. They'd learned from Geratt that he'd hired nineteen vampires for the attack on Lissa. Only sixteen were accounted for.

  "We'll send someone out," Garde said. "Trevor, perhaps, and a crew of handpicked vampires."

  "Is Lissa still awake?" Garde asked. They'd left the dungeon behind and now walked through a side door leading into the palace, after Garde entered a security code on the keypad outside. Two vampire guards inside the door nodded them through—they were recognized.

  "The Queen is sleeping," Dmitri heard the door open from the grand hall and went to double check, making sure the ones entering the palace were authorized to do so.

  "Can you get a message to Trevor?" Garde asked. Trevor was a former assassin for the Council on Earth. Now he worked as Sheriff for Casino City.

  "Of course. What should I say?"

  "That we have three rogues loose. They were among the nineteen hired to attack Lissa today. Only sixteen were killed. We have the masterminds in the dungeon."

  "Did any other Council members from New Hesperia know anything about this?" Dmitri asked.

  "The Council members didn't. I intend to question some of the other citizens of New Hesperia to see if they knew anything or failed to come forward with information. I am quite angry over this." Garde proved it by blowing smoke. "I will check on Lissa before going home."

  "I'll come with you," Erland said. Rigo and Thurlow refused to be left behind, and Aryn went, too, since the others were going. All walked swiftly and determinedly toward Lissa's suite.

  "Roff, I only wish to check on Lissa," Garde opened the door halfway. Roff was in the Queen's bed, with Lissa tucked against him.

  "Come ahead, her healer-mate placed her in a healing sleep. She will no
t wake." Roff turned on a bedside lamp.

  "There's my girl," Erland breathed, sitting on the side of the bed and reaching out to touch Lissa's cheek.

  "Did you find the ones in Casino City?" Roff asked quietly.

  "We did. They're in the dungeons now," Garde replied. "But there are three other rogues who escaped. We have vampires hunting them now. I want to take Lissa to Kifirin with me, but I think I'd have a fight on my hands at the moment," he added. "The breaching of the walls and the attempts on her life worry me. Dmitri has an extra shift on guard duty. If you need me to take her out of here, get someone to send mindspeech."

  "I can take her to Karathia just as easily," Erland murmured. He hadn't informed the others, but Wylend was sending out Warlocks. There would be dead Solar Red, Black Mist and Red Hand by morning.

  Rigo watched enviously as the little Queen, a bare shoulder peeking from beneath the sheet, slept against the winged vampire's chest. Thurlow watched Rigo, Roff, Erland and Garde, but held his face expressionless, as always.

  Garde led them from Lissa's suite after a while, and Roff tilted his head to kiss the top of Lissa's head, mumbling words of love to her. Roff hadn't failed to notice that he'd been the first one Lissa had turned to mist earlier in the day, making sure he was safe from the arrows. The others had followed swiftly, but Heathe and Davan had walked too far ahead, preventing Lissa from getting to them sooner. Davan had paid for the trust he'd displayed with his life.

  "I know you love me," Roff said softly, stroking a cheek. "And I know you loved my child. Both my children. I do not know of any other comesuli who can say as much." Roff leaned over and turned off the lamp. He hadn't needed the light to begin with—it was only a courtesy to their visitors.

  * * *

  "Gardevik, how is Lissa?" Glinda watched Garde's face as he sat at the kitchen island, a sandwich on a plate in front of him. He was tired and hungry—he hadn't eaten since early morning.

  "Not that well—you know about her uncle who was killed." Garde bit into his sandwich. At least their cooks and kitchen help were very good, now.