Revenant

by Janet Jones

  Jenny glided into the room and plopped herself down on the loveseat across from Talisen, but said nothing to her.

  Talisen burrowed deeper into her chair and felt like a fly in the windowsill. It figured. They didn't need any gooey facades with her now, did they? Now that she knew.

  Ellory's voice silenced everyone. “I assume Meinrad knows we're ready to begin."

  Begin what? Talisen hunkered even deeper into her chair.

  Christophe grunted. “He's piercing his ear again and trying to find a shirt that isn't stained. I've never known him to worry about that before."

  Georgina gave a dismissing sniff. “He asked me three times if I think he looks all right. He actually blushed."

  Talisen felt, rather than heard, Ellory's sigh.

  Meinrad came in, holding a tissue to his ear. Impressive. He'd gone from a leather-clad hotshot to a little Adonis. His damp, yellow hair hung close to his neck and shoulders. Peach fuzz glistened on his chin. Even though his billowing white dress shirt didn't look like it belonged to him, his fresh-pressed blue jeans fit him like a second skin.

  He dropped his tissue, cursed, picked it up, and straightened to look into Ellory's eyes.

  Talisen felt a rush of loss bleed from Ellory. He circled Meinrad, eyeing him up and down, his face composed. After a moment, he clapped a hand on the young vampire's back. “Pick of the litter, boy. Now sit. Don't dwell on it."

  Meinrad grinned and sat down beside Jenny, who wrung a laugh out of him when she pulled him closer and gave his earlobe a swipe with her tongue to stop the bleeding.

  Everyone looked at Ellory with expectation. He scowled and began to pace. He couldn't have looked more like a formidable sea captain about to address his crew if he'd been marching the deck of the Swan. Stormy weather ahead. He'd thrown his heart into whatever he had to say.

  With a sweep of his hand, he gestured toward Talisen, but his words were meant for the rest of them. “I'll spare us all the obvious. I include you in my decision as a courtesy.” He halted and looked at each of them. “All comments are welcome, if offered with due respect for my chosen consort."

  Consort? Talisen flinched, blinked, and went into a slow burn. She'd gone from favorite snack to paramour at Ellory's whim. Nice career move. But he had another thought coming. “No. Absolutely not. No way."

  Six pairs of glittering eyes speared her to her chair.

  Ellory looked dishearteningly unmoved by her protest. He turned to Christophe as though Talisen hadn't even spoken. “You first."

  The young vampire's mild frown was the only indication on his angelic face that he was discomforted. “There is no bond between her and us, nor can there be."

  "And there's not going to be, either,” Talisen said. “Do you hear me?"

  Ellory rubbed his chin and looked at Adrienne. “And you?"

  She sighed, her voice gentle. “She isn't one of us."

  "Duh,” Talisen interjected. Her anger began to turn to panic. What was he doing? “Ellory, would you listen to me?"

  His jaw tightened, but rather than respond to her, he fixed his gaze on Delfina. “You?"

  "I just want you to be happy,” replied Delfina.

  "Me too,” Jenny murmured.

  "And I couldn't care less,” Talisen groused.

  Ellory gave the two vampiresses a dignified nod and turned to face Georgina. She sat back in her chair, hands poised on the arms of the chair, a miniature marble lady. Talisen studied the little ice queen's body language, the way she looked at Ellory. There was so much possessiveness in those crystal-clear blue eyes. That look was as old as time. Talisen didn't need a lesson in vampiric family dynamics to see that Georgina had issues with sharing Ellory. Didn't he see it?

  Georgina—an adult vampiress locked for eternity in the body of a ten-year-old. She wanted what she could never, ever have with him. With anyone.

  Talisen felt a brush of pity for the little vampiress, and then pushed it away. She didn't care whether the fledglings accepted her or not. What she did want was their respect, whether she was going to be here another day or a thousand—which she didn't intend to. Without respect, she may as well be dead.

  Georgina's voice was low and sweet. “Ellory, do you want us to forget what you've taught us? ‘Family first. Family always. One vein. One heart. One blood.’ Those are the words you've exemplified for us since our infancy, and we say them to each other in blood. Your mate must be someone we can trust. Not a human. Humans are for pleasure. For feeding. That's all they're capable of."

  Talisen shoved herself out of her chair, hardly able to push the words out of her mouth fast enough. “Let's get one thing straight right now. Don't make the mistake of thinking my one aspiration is to be Ellory's human milk cow. All I'm thinking of is getting out of here, come hell or high water, and nothing he can do is going to stop me."

  They just stared. Cold, timeless faces that didn't change. Except for Ellory. He watched her, eyes agleam with wonder—and a hint of remorse that made her uneasy.

  Georgina laughed. Talisen turned to glare at her and found herself ignored.

  The little vixen smiled suavely at Ellory. “Look here, old boy, if you want to play with your food, you don't need our permission for that, but—"

  Talisen bent over her, grabbed a fistful of seersucker jumper and hauled her up from her chair. Nose to nose, she whispered, “If you're going to insult me, you asinine little snob, the least you can do is look me in the eye. I'd be happy to get you a chair to stand on."

  Georgina hissed and sprouted fangs. “Ellory, if you mean for her to keep her hands...."

  "The offense was yours,” he replied deftly.

  Talisen felt a warning prickle in her fingertips and let go. Georgina remained suspended in the air like an electrified balloon. Tugging her sleeves and straightening her clothes, she returned Talisen's gaze with unexpected dignity.

  Talisen didn't wait for her to speak. “I don't want your place in Ellory's life. I'm sorry you can't love him the way you want to, but there's nothing to be gained by hating me."

  Tears sprang into Georgina's eyes and spilled down her cheeks like red mascara. Aghast, Talisen looked away. When she glanced at Georgina again, the vampiress had drifted to the floor on soundless feet. Christophe offered his little sister a handkerchief, but she'd already stained her palms wiping the tears away.

  Christophe turned to Ellory and shook his head. “You're asking us to trust her without the benefit of a blood exchange?"

  Ellory shook his head. “No. We will do this the proper way."

  Talisen didn't like the resolve she saw in his eyes. She crossed her arms and squared her chin, inwardly trembling. Whatever he had in mind, there was no way she was going along with it. Not willingly, anyway.

  He looked at her, seeming completely implacable. “There are three purposes for establishing a blood bond, Talisen: To make you a part of our family. To reassure my children that you cannot become a weapon against them. And to protect you. If something should happen to me, and you were taken from us, one of my children would still be able to find you by tracing you through the bond they'll have with you."

  She swallowed hard. If she were taken? He meant by other vampires. Like Dylan or Blazek. Or if she were attacked by a revenant again. “You mean it's like a tracking device?"

  "In a way. And I don't mind telling you, I would welcome the additional security."

  "But it must be a mutual exchange,” Adrienne said.

  Talisen stared at the mulberry braided rug at her feet. “Doesn't matter. I'm not doing it."

  "Yes,” Ellory said, “you are."

  Escape would be hopeless if there were a whole clan of vampires able to chase her down and bring her back. She shook her head. “No."

  Silence descended. She heard his indrawn breath, felt the warmth of his hands on her shoulders right through her sleeves, as he turned her to look at him. Resolve, mixed with an unspoken plea, made him look so beautiful.

  No, no, no.
That was his enthrallment over her at work again. The bond. The chain.

  "Talisen,” he murmured, “without our protection, you can measure your life-expectancy with an egg timer."

  Talisen looked away. “I said no."

  Evidently, Ellory's words registered with his youngsters. She heard them stand and felt them gather around her. When Ellory drew her closer and turned her to face them, she felt a mantel of mindless contentment envelop her and swayed on her feet.

  His thought-voice soothed her. A few swallows only. That is all it will take.

  Talisen snatched her next breath, unable to move in his arms. And to think I felt sorry for you. I should have let that revenant kill you.

  Look at them, Talisen. They are only children. He nuzzled her throat, and as though she were a puppet on strings, she turned her gaze on the fledgling vampires. In their own way, they did look as wary of her as she was of them.

  Ellory's voice was feather-soft in her mind. Your place in my life puts them at great risk. They need this reassurance. I owe it to them.

  Reassurance? Meaning ... they'll be able to control me?

  He grinned down at her. Why? Do you plan to be a menace to us?

  Just answer me.

  Talisen, controlling humans is a skill innate to all vampires. But mine wouldn't dare treat you that way, because they would answer to me. I'm referring to the fact that by drinking your blood, they will be reassured that you cannot deceive us.

  Where did that leave her plans to run away?

  He squeezed her. I thought you got that out of your system last night.

  Talisen let the horrible enormity of his power wash over her and ducked her head, willing herself not to cry. What do I look like? A den mother?

  He kissed her forehead. I'm sorry. Please ... trust me.

  She looked up at him and let all her disappointment show in her face. You've lost your honor, Captain Benedikt. You would never have taken advantage of someone's powerlessness like this when you were human.

  His face seemed suddenly made of stone. He took her arm in one hand and pulled the sleeve up with the other, baring her wrist. I would have done—and will do—anything I must to keep you safe.

  Cold sweat beaded under Talisen's clothing. She looked around at the waiting faces. “Well, get it over with."

  Ellory pulled her back against him, wrapped one arm around her waist and braced the other under her left arm, lifting it, palm upward. He laced his fingers through hers, and when she trembled, gave her a reassuring squeeze. He motioned Georgina forward with a nod.

  The little vampiress’ hauteur slipped. She tightened her arms around herself, and her eyes trickled red tears again. Her pain was nearly tangible.

  "Come along,” Ellory murmured to her. “It's all right."

  Georgina stepped closer and wrapped her dainty fingers around Ellory and Talisen's hands. She looked up at Talisen with her mouth poised over Talisen's wrist.

  Talisen held her breath and turned her head away.

  "Family first,” said Georgina in her child's voice. “Family always. One vein. One blood. One heart."

  The prick of the tiny fangs made Talisen gasp, but she felt Ellory's hand close more tightly on her own. He drew her closer against him, and she lay her head back against his shoulder. His breath was warm and calming against her cheek. She closed her eyes, awed by the painlessness of it.

  That's why I told Georgina to go first. She has the smallest fangs. The rest of them will merely drink from you.

  He was doing her a kindness? Talisen didn't know whether to laugh or cry. If he really cared, he wouldn't make her go through this.

  You're wrong, Talisen. It's because I care for you that I am doing this.

  She ground her teeth in her effort not to let the tears show. They slipped down her face anyway. Keep your patriarchal bullshit to yourself.

  Talisen felt the bond open between Georgina and herself, like a cosmic corridor that fit neatly alongside the one that hummed from Ellory to her. It took her breath away. It was distinct and separate, yet unrestricted. She'd expected something like a party-line.

  One by one, they recited the ancient words and lapped at her wrist. Slightly woozy, she fought to focus her concentration while her mind filled with the thought-voices of the Benedikts. It was a dizzy, ticklish sensation that left her disoriented but ever more content. When the contentment bordered on serenity, she began to fight it for all she was worth.

  At last, Ellory lifted her wrist to his mouth and laved it with his tongue to close the tiny bite Georgina had left. He held Talisen's arm close, his brown eyes dancing. “Welcome to the family. If you behave yourself, I may let you have your own motorcycle."

  Talisen looked up at him and said as succinctly as she could, “Keep it. I'll crawl out of here if I have to. Until I do, you're going to think I'm the baddest black sheep your family has ever known."

  Ellory's eyes glinted with dark amusement that almost made her regret her challenge. “Ah, well ... every ewe needs her ram."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Ten

  It was surreal, weaving in and out of the nighttime traffic on the back of Ellory's Harley, with a chorus of vampire voices in her head. Talisen discovered they used a common, family thought-path to converse with one another, separate from their individual channels to one another. With a little practice, she found she could tune them out, like turning down a TV in the corner of a room so that it became background noise.

  She'd resigned herself to one more night. Tomorrow, when the sun was high in the sky, she'd.... She caught back her thoughts and focused on the nighttime. If she thought about her plans right now, Ellory would pick them right out of her brain.

  Wildness whipped through her, an exhilaration she'd never known before. What was it? Her survival instincts kicking in with a vengeance? An overdose of adrenaline?

  Or was it the purr of the engine under her and the warmth of Ellory between her thighs?

  No. In that direction lay the deathblow to all her plans. The bond he'd saddled her with made it more difficult to resist him.

  Ellory's laugh filled her soul, warm with lazy humor. I'd hardly be worth my salt if it didn't, sweet.

  She decided not to dignify that with a response. In fact, she considered not talking to him at all. But being sullen would only make him suspicious. So tell me, how do you handle special occasions where Shelby's concerned? Like her birthday. She's bound to expect everyone in the family to have some of her cake. And all the holiday munching, too. How do you guys get around that?

  He seemed to consider the question as though he hadn't thought about it before. Well, Shelby's only had two birthdays since she's been with us, and both times, she was more interested in her presents than her cake. As for holidays, we've managed fairly well, so far. It's like a big pretend. Naturally, we're at our best at Halloween. Last year, a local skating rink hosted a costume contest, and Georgina and Delfina dressed Shelby up as—

  Let me guess. A vampire?

  No, an intergalactic princess who's come to earth to save our world. Georgina and Delfina went as vampiresses. You should have seen what they did for Shelby's—ahem—costume. It was a judicious use of a little harmless illusion. They turned her a pretty shade of periwinkle and gave her ears like a bat. That was the only thing they had to adjust. Shelby complained of the noise. But she liked the antennae so much that she begged me to let her keep them for a few days.

  Talisen laughed. Antennae?

  Sean says we never had better television reception. Of course, Shelby won first place in the contest. I was very proud. The three of them would've stayed all night, except people kept tweaking Shelby's antennae to see if they were real. The girls are thinking about doing it again this year. Shelby would make a good pixie, don't you think?

  I think that's great while Shelby's little, but how will you handle these things when she gets older?

  He shrugged. We'll fake it.

  It wasn't a happy
thought, that Ellory could make humans think whatever he wanted to. I don't like the sound of that. It's deceitful.

  He turned his head a bit in her direction, but all she could see was a skewed reflection of the traffic in the tinted visor of his helmet. I swear on the grave I've never had, I will never deceive you, Talisen Davies.

  Nothing tricky?

  He shook his head. Nothing tricky.

  She could almost believe him, he sounded so sincere. But could you really trust a vampire?

  A few traffic lights later, she noticed an edge in the fledglings’ thought-voices. What was eating at them? It went deep, scalding the periphery of her thoughts and emotions as though she were standing a few paces from a bonfire. What was it?

  Ellory answered her unspoken question, his voice hot with disdain as though he were murmuring the name of an old enemy. Hunger. They need to feed.

  That brought her face-to-face with the inevitable. Ellory would need to feed too, at some point. A chill crawled up her spine. Maybe he'd go off and get his sustenance elsewhere.

  They turned down a narrow, tree-lined road where the only lights were their headlights. Ellory motioned for the others to go on without them, pulled to a stop and let the engine idle for a moment.

  Talisen sat utterly still. What was he up to now? “Why are we stopping?"

  He put the visor up on his helmet but didn't look at her. “You have an unanswered question, and I fear it'll plague your wits all evening if I don't answer it."

  She withdrew her arms from around his waist, now that they'd stopped. “I wasn't thinking anything."

  "Liar.” He sighed. “You were wondering when I'm going to drink from you. Since you cannot leave it be, I'll tell you. You'll know when I need you. It's a natural response. A sort of hunger you'll feel."

  So the minute she got hungry, she'd know to run. “You mean for food?"

  He turned his head toward her slightly. “For me."

  Talisen's heart pounded as she let it sink in, the full meaning of what he was saying. “That's despicable."