Bloodlines 2 Ancestry

by Toni L. Meilleur

  “For what?”

  “For giving me a fair chance; I promise I will not disappoint you.”

  “You should concern yourself less with disappointing the servants. I am the one you need to impress.” Dharean’s deep cool voice resonated in the small hut. Again he had managed to enter with his presence not being known. A gift indeed, but it was getting on Allantra’s nerves.

  “You, Noir Brujo, do not refer to me as a servant. I am the mother of your godchildren. You show respect!” Minn clipped at him.

  “You are right.” Dharean smiled apologetically “I am sorry, Minn, I am just a little testy this morning. How are the little ones?” Minn began to preen at the mention of her cubs.

  “They do well, Dharean. They wish to know when you will come do tricks for them.”

  “Tell them I will as soon as I can.” He smiled kindly to Minn as she began to leave the hut.

  “Please tell that wayward brother of mine to come and see his nephews. He should never be to busy for a family visit.”

  “I will tell Masque of your demand.” Dharean replied, the kind expression still on his face-until he turned to Allantra, then irritation ruled. “Are you ready?”

  “For what?” Allantra asked nonchalantly though she was seething on the inside. Impress him? Not likely.

  “Did Minn not tell you that today would be a long day?”

  “Every day is long, Dharean. The solar system decrees it that way.” Allantra pretended to flick a crumb off the mat she was eating on.

  “You will tell me of your reasons for being here, and then I have something planned if all goes well.”

  “And if it does not?” she sent another imaginary crumb flying across the mat. Not used to being ignored, Dharean grabbed Allantra by the arm and hoisted her up unceremoniously.

  “You will show me respect, little one.” He growled in her ear, with a soft jerk bringing her closer. “I am law here, your fate is in these hands, and you will do well to cooperate.”

  “I thought Za’rae to be the power here,” she said sweetly looking in his gorgeous pale gray eyes. Her heart sped up as she saw swirls of black like a small tornado in his eyes. She refused to show her fear. “Besides I know you have been inside my mind, you know why I am here.”

  “I would like to hear it from you.”

  “No, you want to see if I will lie or keep something from you. You want me to be some kind of traitor, for it will give you a good reason to try and execute me. I will not play your game, Noir Brujo.”

  “You are smart for one of the Civil Lands.” He smiled reluctantly, and released her, the inky tornados subsiding.

  “I am smart because I was born that way, where I was raised has no bearing on it.” She rubbed her arm where he grabbed her, not because it hurt, but because it tingled, in a delicious sort of way.

  “You will address the people post haste, they gather at the Place of Honor.”

  “Place of Honor?”

  “It is where our most revered shifters are remembered. You will please show respect, no matter what good intentions you have. If you show disrespect in any way they will stone you on the spot, and not even Za’rae can save you.” He extended his arm pleasantly enough, indicating she should walk ahead of him. After they left the hut, Allantra finally asked the question that had begun to sear her mind.

  “What do I do, when I enter the Place of Honor?” she asked softly.

  Of course this would be the time to get rid of her if there ever was one. He could mislead her and make the people revolt, but Za’rae would never forgive him. No telling what the old one would do, he held great respect for her, her power was the only one that exceeded his own. But then again, the thought of her getting hurt did something to his insides and made them twist and lurch uncomfortably. “As soon as you are at the entrance, there will be a pot of ash to your right. Adorn your forehead, heart and feet with this. Then bow low, do not move until Za’rae bid you welcome.”

  “What does that symbolize?” He didn’t know why, but the fact that she asked warmed him. He thought she would merely do as she was told to save her hide, however her question seemed genuine and spoke of interest.

  “Ash is the result of burning. Burning is purification. It symbolizes the purity in your mind, in your heart, and journey through life. Bowing asks for judgment and you wait to be found worthy and invited into such an honored place.”

  “That is so beautiful.” She replied looking back at him with her beautiful brown eyes. “Your people must have such culture and tradition,” she observed wistfully.

  “Are they not your people as well?’ he found himself saying, somehow wanting her to feel part of the people. Yes, he indeed had gone insane; she was a prisoner after all.

  “I suppose that is what we are trying to discern now isn’t it?” she laughed shortly. But he had seen the sadness in her eyes. If she indeed had grown up in the Civil Lands she had missed a lot. Humans only lived so long and the Civil Lands were not kind to ones that were not vampyres. Within moments they reached the Place of Honor.

  “Let us hope fairness is in my people’s heart this morning.” Dharean responded. At their approach a man turned and pointed at Allantra as they approached.

  “There, behold the Vampyre’s pawn and whore!” The crowd turned and Dharean found himself staring into the eyes of his very angry people.

  Dharean watched in concealed horror as the heads of all assembled outside of the Place of Honor turned towards them. The man pointed again at Allantra “The Vampyres’ Whore is among us. She comes as a harbinger of our end; she must be put to death!” At this statement Dharean’s anger rose faster than he had ever known it to. His muscular arm, lined with tattoos, shot out toward the villager, slowly he curled his hand into a ball, and against his will the frightened man found himself being dragged by unseen hands toward the angry wizard.

  When he was within a hair’s breadth, practically nose-to-nose he could see the black funnels swirling violently in the wizard’s eyes.

  “Our ways are not barbaric. We do not kill needlessly. Have you any proof of your claims?” Dharean bit out menacingly.

  “We have all heard she is from the Civil Lands. We all know the prophecy, Noir Brujo. Perhaps the Vampyres sent her to let down our guard, how do we know she is the one?”

  “And you think the only way to find this out is to kill her on sight? Make her a pariah; turn the people against her before she has had a chance to prove her innocence?”

  “We have all worked hard to replenish our numbers, I do not want to see that jeopardized.” Before he could finish, Dharean roared loudly, the sound so intense the people, including Allantra covered their ears. He sounded like an enraged beast.

  “Tell me, Dysil,” his voice gravelly, sounding more animal than man. “When last did you protect these borders, kill to protect a people who fear and shun you? Made decisions that have damned your soul, all to protect the people who thrive here now?”

  Dysil now visibly shook as the funnels in Dharean’s eyes began to bleed out, turning his pale gray eyes inky black. “I-I have not done those things-you have.” His words stumbled over his tongue in absolute fear.

  “Then do not tell me what you do not want to see happen. You have cowered under my protection and now you are brave because you think to attack a woman? You think to turn a whole village on a woman who has braved death many times to save people she does not know here and in the Civil Lands as well. She is who she claims to be. If Za’rae trusts her and I have not killed her, judgment is not for you to make!” With that he flung the man away with nothing but a thought and turned his slate gaze onto the other True Bloods who all held the same look of terror. “Would there be anyone else who challenges the decision Za’rae and I have made?” The crowd met his question with complete silence.

  One by one the crowd began to file into the Place of Honor. By the time Dharean looked at Allantra his beautiful light stormy eyes were back.

  “That is not true you know,�
�� she said to him, stepping close and putting her small hand to his cheek.

  “What?” he asked breathing a little hard from battling the demons that had threatened to surface in his anger.

  “Your soul is not damned. Who would damn a soul with so much self-sacrifice for his people?” She knew not what came over her; she stood on the tips of her toes and placed a soft kiss on the opposite cheek. “Thank you, Dharean.” Then bravely she took the last place in the line.

  At last Allantra stepped to the entrance where a beautiful wide mouthed urn sat on a carved stand to her right. She dipped her fingers in the ashes and dipped her covered fingers to her forehead, heart and feet. She bowed low and waited. And waited. Minutes began to tick by in utter silence; a light sweat began to form on her brow as she began to contemplate if she had done something wrong.

  “Very good child,” came Za’rae’s scratchy voice. “You have much patience and trust. Please find your seat in the Place of Honor.” She rose on cramped legs but did not complain. As she stepped inside the light was low, but not so low she couldn’t make out the beautiful carved statues. Various shifters, some in human form some in half animal form lined the walls of the hall. Underneath there was an inscription that Allantra suspected told of the person’s name and the reason for their honored state. The hall ended at a large doorframe which had various animals carved along its frame. It was truly magnificent. Entering the large doorframe, to her right sat many seats at many levels like the old stadiums in the Civil Lands. Right in front of her one chair stood and to her immediate left sat two large ornate chairs. On those chairs sat Dharean and Za’rae. Za’rae as usual sat cross-legged style in her seat. Dharean’s large frame took up the whole chair; he motioned for her to sit in the lone chair in the middle of the large room. She sat down and waited for yet another interrogation.

  “Please tell everyone your name,” Za’rae said kindly trying to relax Allantra.

  “I am Allantra”

  “From where do you hail, Allantra?”

  “I was raised in the Civil Lands.” Allantra could have cringed when a small murmur rippled through the assembly.

  “What has brought you here, child?”

  Allantra took a deep breath and stood. She clasped her shaking hands behind her back and cursed herself for taking on such a task. “In the Civil Lands, there are shifters as well as various other creatures. We are called the Low-enders, the undesirables. We are executed for petty crimes while the vampires get away with—well murder. Life is hard for us. I am by no means asking you to feel sorry for me, I committed petty crimes to eat and live. One day I found myself set up by vampires for a murder I didn’t commit. It was all a good plan really; apparently the vampires felt that the low-enders’ numbers were getting too high, they were planning a slaughter. They used me as a catalyst to start it, only it didn’t work out as they wanted…”

  Allantra proceeded to tell them everything she and Khaelen had learned about the Mass Execution and the true reasons behind it. Of course she glossed over the parts about her involvement with Khaelen, but she sensed Dharean in her head every time she mentioned the vampire, he was a staring hole in her back.

  “It’s why I made the deal. If I can bring two Purebloods back, the government will change for all the people who live there. We have a chance to thrive in a healthy environment; your people will no longer be hunted.” The assembly began to talk at the same time; none ever knew the true reason for the execution only educated guesses. There was outrage that they had been wiped out for power and nothing more. Some loudly proclaimed they would gladly go back with her, others felt she might be lying. Still others wanted to know what did the Civil Lands have to do with them? They were thriving again and saw no reason to jeopardize their survival. Eventually Dharean stood and commanded silence with this action alone.

  “Allantra will answer any question that is recognized by Za’rae and myself. Chaos is not an option. Anyone who causes a disturbance will immediately be emitted from the premises. Remember, this is the Place of Honor and despite the volatile subject at hand I expect everyone to remain in control of their faculties. Is that understood?” All assembled nodded their heads in agreement.

  Allantra turned to Dharean. “Please, may I have some water?” Za’rae waved her hand and a jug of water appeared at Allantra’s feet. After she drank her fill, one by one Za’rae and Dharean let the people question Allantra.

  He had to admit she kept her composure during the whole meeting; truly admirable. It had to be hard facing hostile people in a place where no one wanted or trusted you, but she held her ground. Projecting complete confidence and honesty when he knew she was trembling inside. However, when she spoke of the vampyre Dharean felt her affection and knew she had a deep connection. That knowledge burned in his gut. He even caught a few of the unbidden images of the two of them fucking from Allantra’s mind. As much as he tried to block it out, the image was burned in his mind. He was determined to replace it with images of him. Za’rae pointed to a villager who began to question her more about her home and her life, seeming to try and trip her up. But Allantra was being completely honest and so she always presented a unified story. Dharean pointed to a woman who was patient as she was continuously chosen over another.

  “What guarantee do you have the vampyres aren’t setting another trap? Couldn’t they very well be using you to flush us out to finish us off once and for all?”

  “I have the word of their leader, and I know no one here trusts the word of a vampire but he is tired of the state he is in as the others are. The Executioner himself feels he was telling the truth.”

  “But the Executioner is just another vampyre is he not?”

  For the first time he saw Allantra flinch. Yes, this was a hard issue to skirt but she held her head up and answered the woman.

  “Yes, but he is the one who fought by my side. He is the one who fought fairly for the low-enders, it is the only reason their numbers were given a chance to climb in the first place.”

  “That does not change the fact that he is vampyre. It could all be an elaborate set up. Not to mention there was one who was totally against this. What has been done about that vampyre? Is the vampyre allowed to roam free and possibly wage war against us once we arrive?”

  “A very good question. I do not know what they have done to her honestly. Khaelen stayed behind to keep anarchy from taking place and keep the peace. I have to trust he is doing his job as he is trusting me to do mine here.”

  “How will it be decided who goes?” the woman asked, Dharean bade her to sit down after her last question he rose to answer it instead of Allantra.

  “I will go, as well as Masque.” The crowd buzzed and the same villager who had called Allantra a whore begged to be called upon, Za’rae humored him. “If things are as she says, then I will call for one more volunteer.” He cast her a sly look ready for her to protest, but she merely nodded her head in agreement, a small smile played at her lips.

  “You two are our strongest, who will protect Za’rae and the rest of us while you are gone? What if it is the plan to separate us to conquer us?” The man named Dysil yelled out.

  “I have not been teaching you all these years for nothing, Dysil. You and the rest of the people must learn to help defend yourselves. As for Za’rae,” Dharean chuckled, as he looked at the wrinkled old woman, “Za’rae will leave us when it is her desire no one else’s.” Dysil sat down somewhat satisfied. “Allantra is tired so this meeting will cease. I want it known that she is no longer to be treated as a prisoner but as a guest. I will personally see to the death of any one who causes her harm.” The people silently began to file out, she turned to see Za’rae was all ready gone, she wondered if her body was actually ever here or did she project her image. Dharean approached her, “We will eat, then we have business to attend.” He informed her.

  “I thought I was no longer a prisoner?” she scratched at the dress.

  “You are not but I think it best you remain
with me, Dysil at best is untrustworthy and sneaky.”

  “No harm can befall me when I am in Za’rae’s hut.”

  “But you must venture outside of the hut from time to time, besides,” he began as he strode toward the carved doorway “You will no longer be residing with Za’rae. Your new quarters are with me.”

  Chapter Four

  She didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse, she had not felt her arms and legs for a long time. Occasionally, she would shift her body weight as best she could to keep some kind of circulation going, but not anymore. She was too tired, and too weak. She had not heard anything from her mate in days now. He hung lifeless against the wall. In the beginning she knew him to be unconscious but now, she felt no life force, no energy at all. She knew her mate had finally succumbed to all the beatings and sparse feedings for at least a century. And like him, she too was dying. It was the only reason she could see her long lost daughter in her dreams.

  Taraema was dying, that scab of a vampyre had beaten and starved her to the breaking point. There were times when she didn’t even know if she was actually asleep or awake her mind was so fragile. But this she knew she had seen her daughter in the dream plane. Perhaps she had been drawn to see her daughter because that had been her driving force for survival ever since she was captured. She had seen her and knew because she looked just like Taraema. Allantra was alive. Just saying the words to herself gave her hope, joy. Taraema’s unsteady footing in the world of the living caused her to waver in the spectral plane, the dream plane. Did her daughter know she was still alive? Did she even recognize her? It had been so long, and Allantra being so young, Taraema doubted her daughter even remembered what she looked like.

  Why she was even still alive was beyond her. All these years she and Pase had survived simply because of the other. Now he was gone and… Taraema’s heart lurched with pain. A prince of people should not die like this. He was a good man and would have made an excellent king. But now the people would never know. Were there more of them out there? Surely there had to be, the deranged bloodsucker seemed pretty intent on finding her people to break the curse, a double-edged sword. On the one hand Taraema prayed fervently that her people survived. However, their survival meant Dominica had a chance to kill them and once again become corporeal. She was already powerful in this state. Taraema shivered at what she would be able to achieve when she became flesh and blood again. Taraema also knew from her many demented rantings that Dominica had found the necessary reversal spell. She knew the vampyre practiced the dark arts. That alone would make it almost impossible to stop her. There were truly talented wizards in her clan but Taraema wasn’t sure if they could stand up against Dominica.