She needed to hire more staff, but with the shortage of Beta-level Naturas in the city, that left the coven classes. Seanair would sooner walk naked through Times Square than hire a witch or warlock.
As the car pulled through the gate and started up the near-half-mile drive, her heart beat a hopeful clap and bulldozed her exhaustion. A canopy of towering trees covered the drive, and a sea of deep-green grass lined both sides. Beds of meticulously manicured greenery glowed beneath the spears of sunlight poking through the dense umbrella of leaves. She cracked the window and tilted her head toward the stream of fresh summer air. Of all of Seanair’s properties, his stone manor on the Hudson River never failed to take her breath away.
A chime sounded, and she pulled her cell from the outside pocket of her bag. As she checked the screen, her heart sank. He didn’t contact her near as often now, but he’d not stopped and probably wouldn’t until she married.
Eamon: Back in Savannah next week? There’s a new bistro you’d like.
She almost didn’t respond, but he’d taken their breakup well all those years ago, and she still considered him a friend. After losing her virginity to him, they’d had years of sex in the eleven months they’d continued to date. She’d learned about her body and herself.
Most notably, she’d decided she’d marry on her terms, and it’d be for love.
Not babies. Not alliances. And not just…caring.
Eamon was attracted to her, but she’d ultimately deduced he’d romanticized their relationship, made himself believe he was in love with her. In the end, she couldn’t dislodge the idea that the immensely powerful children they could create together wasn’t at the core of his feelings.
Big. Fat. No.
She had a successful career. A great apartment in the city. And a best friend who liked nothing better than to tear up the town when time and work allowed.
Elspeth: Won’t be back for a few months. Will text when I’m in town.
Holding her thumb over the arrow button, she considered her options. It’d been over three years since they’d split, and he hadn’t given up. Her responses only gave him hope, and she didn’t love him. But she wasn’t the type to ghost anyone. It was time to cut the ol’ Eamon cord, but she’d do it in person. Later.
The driver pulled around the circular driveway, stopping the car even with the front entryway. Two men flanking the door gave her respectful nods.
“Welcome, Miss Lennox. Your grandfather’s waiting on the terrace.”
“Thank you.” She nodded at the man who’d spoken, unable to remember all the names of her grandfather’s numerous staff.
She climbed the front steps and paused to take in the mass of green lawn across the grounds and the sky’s cheerful blue. A sunniness, much like the brilliant rays beaming over the yard, glimmered across her nerves.
He’s finally going to see me, see my value.
The butler stood in the vestibule, waiting to lead her through the three-story foyer and on through to the terrace. A wall of windows spanned the entire length of the stunning space with beautiful, flower-filled planters placed evenly along the deck. The Hudson River glistened just over the tree line, the stone manor sitting atop a hill. A faint tang of baked bread laced the air—homemade sourdough.
Seanair’d had the chef prepare one of her favorites?
A shiver ran down her. Pressure built in her eyes. She kind of wanted to jump up and down but settled for a barrage of inner high fives. A tear threatened to spill, but she blinked it back. Her grandfather hated tears, called them a sign of true weakness. But she wasn’t weak. Or damaged goods. Or any of the other things Seanair considered her.
She’d started at Kindred while at NYU, interning and taking over the database of births and deaths and transforming their old-fashioned matchmaking services into a globally utilized service.
He’s finally going to admit I’m just as valuable as my powered brothers and cousins.
She walked out into the sunshine and breathed in the fresh air and green grass and anticipation. A round table had been set in the middle of the promenade with a spray of mixed flowers in the center. White tablecloth. Formal china. A pitcher of iced tea. Another favorite. And was that chilled champagne?
Her insides vibrated with electric glee. Maybe he’d received more positive feedback from the Alpha families than she’d realized.
“Hello, Grandfather.” She stopped a few feet from his chair, his face obscured by The Wall Street Journal, the table shaded by the sun’s angle against the mansion.
He didn’t return the greeting. Crap. That’s right. He hated to be interrupted and could sense her presence. She needed to tone down her enthusiasm before she earned a scowl. He finally closed and folded the paper, placing it on the table.
“Good afternoon, Elspeth.” He perused her business attire from head to toe. “Black’s much too harsh a color for a young woman.”
Why was he criticizing her outfit? She unbuttoned the jacket of the new suit and hoped he’d focus on the crisp white blouse.
“This is what I wear at the office, and I assumed we’d discuss the current status of my projects at Kindred.” Her nerves fired at his continued inspection.
He gestured toward her chair. “I’ll admit you’ve taken an absolute mess and transformed it into a rather lucrative entity.”
Right. She’d upped the membership fee from $50,000 to $100,000 a year, so the clients absorbed the cost of modernizing their systems, while the company cleared a nice profit. She took a seat and placed the napkin in her lap. A balmy breeze swept her long hair away from her face.
“Once I expanded the system beyond North America, most of the other continents shut their systems down and utilized ours. I’m about to raise the fees again to accommodate their upgrade requests.” And make her grandfather more money, his second-favorite thing after element power.
“Excellent. Gathering their information and charging them to store it is proving quite profitable. Good thing I didn’t sell Kindred. You have a knack for plugging the holes in sinking ships.”
Heat rose beneath her hair, the back of her neck growing steamy. No nerves. Not now. Not when she was so close to a much-deserved victory. She picked up her already filled water glass, but the cool liquid provided no relief.
“I’ve made it easier for families to find suitable matches and protect their family history. It’s genealogy and matchmaking all in one. The South Americans have contacted me about using the system to track how families allocate element resources in hopes it’ll stop some of the infighting.”
“Logging who has rights to what won’t stop them from trying to overthrow one another. The South American continent president needs to do his damn job and remove the troublemakers from the equation. Kindred’s fine, as is, as a record of the past and to help manipulate people’s futures.” Light footsteps approached, and Seanair looked to the server, who placed a cloth-covered basket on the table. “Champagne, please.”
The man gave a gracious nod, took the chilling bottle from the ice bucket, and filled two flutes with well-practiced ease. Her mouth watered at the heated whiffs of sourdough and the dish of softened butter.
She took in the white linen tablecloth and the perfectly placed silverware and place settings. Outside of the human holidays they celebrated so they’d blend in with their neighbors, she’d not dined with Seanair, and never alone. She couldn’t remember him ever having put so much effort into any occasion centered around her since her disastrous power-reveal party. He’d gone to such great lengths, just for lunch.
The place wound tight in her chest relaxed a little, as she was certain she might have finally earned her way back into his good graces.
Seanair lifted his champagne, holding it toward her. “To putting family first.”
She raised her glass and clinked it against his. “Always.”
Her sip went down smooth, the bubbles crisp, the taste dry.
“Before the meal’s served, we’ll discuss why I’ve
brought you here today. You have a tremendous opportunity.” He sat back, flute in hand. The move was fluid, but she knew it was practiced. Seanair never moved a muscle or said a word that wasn’t intentional.
A curl of unease coiled in her stomach at the glimmer in his eyes, and irritation prickled across her nerves. Why couldn’t he just talk to her instead of grandstanding? Everything had to be an announcement rather than a conversation. It’d been so long since she’d glimpsed the Grandie of her youth, the kind, loving man she’d known prior to Mathair’s death, she doubted he still existed.
“I’m always up for a challenge. Is there something else you want me to fix?” She took another sip of champagne, then reached for the linen-covered basket. Might as well enjoy melted butter on warm bread while he pontificated for his court of one.
She chose a roll and slathered on plenty of butter, making sure to take some of the salt crystals on top. The bread’s chewiness nearly had her slumping in her chair, ready to die and ascend, guilt-free, to carb heaven.
“You may be the one to cure your brother.” He looked to her plate and to her, his tone clear that she should have waited for permission to eat.
“What do you mean?” Her butter knife clattered on the fine bone china. “The tripowered disease has no cure.”
The illness usually came on and quickly killed a stricken Natura right after their power arrived on their twenty-fourth birthday. At almost thirty-one, Lach had clearly beaten the odds, which made denial of his disease easy. Seanair had never mentioned her brother’s illness in her presence, and the family had been under strict orders to deny Lach’s condition, which hadn’t been an issue until the past year.
“Medical procedure’s a better term. The Russians have a treatment, the only one I’ve seen with promise.” His head tilted. “Though you can’t sense his warped energies, I know you’ve seen a temperament change in Lach. I’ve assigned him to tasks with little Natura contact outside my security forces and intelligence group, but his resistance to his ailment is slipping.”
“He’s been fine around me.”
The thought of her brother dying—Goddess, she couldn’t go there.
“Lach’s had a few missteps of late. Once during a regen and another while interrogating a spy from another continent. The woman survived. The man did not.” A smile pulled across his face, one most would assume kind instead of calculating. “You do want Lach to survive until we can find a cure, don’t you?”
“How could you even ask that?” The bread in her stomach hardened. “How can I help Lach?” She’d do anything for her oldest brother. Anything. He’d had her back since they’d been little kids, and she would have his.
“By giving the future Russian king powerful heirs.”
A cloud moved over the sun and pitched the terrace into cool shade.
“What?” She took a healthy gulp of champagne. No way she’d heard him right.
Eamon’s proposition came to mind, the one that had ended their relationship. She’d turned down his proposal of offering whatever she wanted in return for a child.
This was different. This was Lach. Her favorite person in her world. At the thought of losing the brother she loved more than life itself, her answer was simple.
“I’m happy to contract for a child in return for their treatment.” She took another sip and sought to calm her racing pulse. “Have you seen any data? Does it work?”
“They’ve completely halted disease progression in all of their patients, and none have succumbed to the disease. It’s a treatment, not a cure, but now that Lach’s finally showing symptoms, his condition will worsen rapidly. Once the three energies are no longer distinct, his elements will overtake his mind and human faculties, and I cannot let things come to that.”
“I know, but I’m assuming you’ll have our medical people analyze everything. In the meantime, if Lach worsens, what’s your plan? We own some remote properties. Can we house him at one until we find something to help him?”
“No. He’ll be uncontainable.”
“That can’t be right. You’re the world’s most powerful Fire element. You know the Air Magnus, and I know Zum’s mom would help stabilize him. You can fix this—at least temporarily.”
If she hadn’t been looking straight at him, she’d have missed the ripple in his gaze—the flicker of discomfort.
“Lach cannot be allowed to expose our existence to the human race. Humans kill what they fear, and the planet would fall. We have but one role, and it’s to fix their environmental mistakes and assist with their evolutionary progression so the planet will one day return to elemental paradise, and we’ll return to element form. If Lach gets too far gone, I will take care of it.”
Her thoughts collided. She couldn’t have heard correctly. She couldn’t sense another’s power, but Seanair had always said Lennoxes were virtually unkillable, their power too great.
She didn’t want to ask the question, had trouble forming the words. “You’d kill Lach?”
“Yes. A tripowered, unchecked, causes nuclear meltdown-level damage. Once Lach’s disease progresses past a certain point, the imbalanced Water will disrupt his primary Fire and Air. He’ll be Chernobyl walking.” He peered down his nose. “Are you willing to sacrifice thousands of humans and Naturas? A Dual of his strength, unleashed, could wipe out greater Manhattan in a matter of hours.” He reached beneath the newspaper, brought out a folder, and handed it across the table. “The deal is your hand in marriage in exchange for the treatment.”
She took it, and her mind blanked. An arranged marriage. Like the ones she planned between powerful families in Kindred. A strong gust opened the flap, the sky going from dove to deep gray. The contract had a similar layout to the ones she created. Date of agreement. A header of the blessing of Mother Nature. Her name. His.
Yuri Mikhailovich Burkov.
She stared at the name of the future Russian king. Yuri. Oh, Goddess. She’d seen his name in the Kindred database, along with the worldwide barrage of women who wanted an introduction. She’d also heard the gossip about him having a different woman every weekend. “What do you know about the family?”
“They’re quite powerful Earths, albeit secretive and isolationist. I’d not be concerned about your safety with them, as long as you provide heirs. No one crosses King Mikhail, and I’m sure his son’s of similar unyielding temperament.”
Elspeth Burkov. Elspeth Lennox Burkov.
Her stomach dropped, dragging her throat with it. She recalled the photographs she’d seen in his profile. Tall, handsome, arrogance leaching through the screen. Nothing new with the rich, Alpha Natura crowd.
“What if I can’t have children?”
Seanair sighed, seemingly annoyed she’d questioned him. Why did he seem ready to pull out a pen and have her sign her life away?
“You have an appointment with a Natura fertility specialist. The stipulations are all spelled out in the contract. The Russians are detailed and thorough. It’s a wonderful alliance for our families.” His smile pulled into the loving one she remembered, that grandfatherly gleam back in his eyes. “With this deal between our empires, you’ll finally do something worthwhile.”
Her head drew back as if she’d been clocked between the eyes. Finally do something worthwhile? Her mouth opened, her breath feathery and faint. She’d been busting her ass since her freshman year. She hadn’t joined any social organizations at NYU and had spent most of her time on her studies and interning at Kindred. Her spare moments had been filled with dating Eamon and hanging out with Zum when her schedule permitted.
Worthwhile? Hell, if she googled the word, her picture should pop up beside the definition.
“I’ve turned Kindred around. I overhauled an archaic system and made it easier for families to trace their lineage and arrange unions. Plus, I’ve personalized the marital negotiation process, so these couples actually have a chance at happiness.” She stopped now while she still could, her list of accomplishments ready to pour from her
.
His smile soured. “We marry for power. The only way to undo what these vermin humans do is to breed stronger Naturas. Strength is how we’ll fulfill our destiny.”
Her hackles rose at his condescension. For nearly twelve years, she’d put up with his disdain, trying to get him to see her as something other than defective. Perfect manners. Perfect grooming. Perfect public persona.
Perfect little Lennox.
The truth sank inside her like a weighted dead body.
She could personally cure the tripowered disease. Colonize the moon. Bottle the Fountain of Youth.
Without power, she’d be forever deficient in his eyes.
The fool’s gold in the family of shiny diamonds, except she’d transcended into a prize cow contracted for breeding.
The server reappeared, two salad plates in hand, setting one in front of her, the other with Seanair. Sensing the tense moment, the man did his usual bow and hastily retreated. Several clouds hung heavy over the river, the gray swath of rain below them coming toward the terrace.
She pushed back her chair and stood, shouldering her purse and tucking her computer and the folder to her chest. “I need to head back into the city. I have a call at four. I’ll look over the details and let you know my decision.”
“There’s a decision? Would you let your brother die because of your ridiculous desire to marry for love? What? You don’t think I know how you pine around that office, staring at the pictures of your parents? They got lucky, Elspeth.” Seanair blotted his mouth with his napkin and stood. “Grow up and marry Yuri Burkov. Or shirk your responsibilities and keep playing like you’re human. One way saves Lach. The other kills him.”
He tossed his napkin atop his salad and strode past her, his footfalls fading.
A stray raindrop plinked against her hair. Another. She hurried to the shelter of the living room, making it inside just as the freak summer shower let loose. Her glance went to the river, now obscured by the driving rain, the tree line blurred by the intense downpour. Moist, warm air lashed at her face, the wind whipping the plants on the terrace.
The Beginning: A Natura Elementals Novella Duology Page 10
