by Roh Morgon
“I’ll let Alina know you’re here.” Reina disappears into a hallway adjacent to the fireplace.
I wander about the room examining the various artwork on the walls and stop before a beautiful landscape above the fireplace. The scene is of a vineyard right before harvest, with plump clusters of purple grapes hanging from the vines, and golden California hills in the background. The work looks like Jeanette’s, but it’s unsigned.
“Hello, Sunny.” Alina walks into the room through the archway, elegant as always. She’s dressed in grey slacks and a lavender cashmere sweater, and her dark hair is loosely pulled back into a soft bun. Elder power emanates from her in gentle pulses through languid swirls of violet and amber.
Curiosity lights up her expression as she approaches me.
“Alina.” I offer a half bow.
“I see that spending time with The Chameleon has been of great benefit to you. You’ve learned your lessons well.”
Assuming she means my cloaked aura, I nod.
“Thank you.”
“And the blonde is a nice touch. It certainly makes you less recognizable.”
Not sure if that’s a compliment, I just smile and nod.
Voices from the hallway into which Reina disappeared grow louder, then stop altogether as an older gentleman enters the room.
He’s good looking, somewhere in his mid-fifties I guess. Sporting neatly groomed dark hair and a navy blue sweater over khakis, his confident air indicates he’s someone who’s accustomed to success.
“Ah. Charles. Thank you for joining us.” Alina walks over to him and taking both his hands, tips her head as he bends to kiss her cheek.
The gesture of affection between them surprises me, and I study the man more closely.
“Did I hear Stephen and Carol?” she asks.
“They’ll be down in a moment.” He glances over at me.
“Come. Let me introduce you to my guest.” Alina releases one hand and leads him toward me.
“Sunny, this is Charles, Reina’s husband.”
He bows.
“Welcome to our home, Sunny.”
Like Reina, he carries Alina’s blood scent, only stronger. Again, I feel no reaction to his presence.
Before I can respond to his greeting, feminine laughter, accompanied by a male voice, echoes from the hallway and a pretty redhead in her mid-thirties enters the room.
Bright blue eyes shine with curiosity above faint freckles and a petite, upturned nose. A broad smile lights up her face. Designer jeans and a frilly orange blouse accentuate a slender body, completing her youthful appearance.
Behind her is a younger version of the first man, early forties, with lighter hair and a more casual attitude, reinforced by a white polo shirt, simple jeans, and lime green Nike shoes.
“Hello. Sorry. Carol couldn’t decide what to wear—” He grins.
“Stephen!” She playfully punches him in the shoulder. “Don’t blame it on me. You were the one—”
Laughing, he draws her close and kisses the top of her head. With his arm around her waist, he guides her over to me.
“We’re always the last ones to the party. Hi. I’m Stephen. And this is Carol.”
Though they both bear Alina’s blood scent, which has so far seemed to prevent any instinctive response within me, my gums twinge as Carol’s scent drifts over me. Its exotic fragrance triggers a memory of a young man in Colorado who claimed his blood, like that of all redheads, was especially satisfying—a claim that proved to be quite true.
Clamping down on my body’s reaction, I nod.
“Hello. I’m Sunny. Do you live here too?”
“Yeah. We all do, along with Tammy and Cherise. Just one big, happy family.” Stephen grins and turns to Alina. “Isn’t that right, Lina?”
Even though his tone carries no hint of sarcasm, the shadow that flits through Alina’s violet eyes tells me all might not be well in paradise.
Charles coughs.
“Well, we really must be going or we’ll be late for our dinner reservation.” He squeezes Alina’s hand, then releases it. “Has anyone seen Reina?”
“I’m right here.” She enters carrying a wine tray with two bottles and glasses, then sets it on the long coffee table in front of the couch. Charles joins her at the table and opens both bottles, then pours a glass of each. He hands one to Alina and the other to me.
Though hers smells of the heavily spiced bloodwine favored by most Chosen, mine bears a simple Zinfandel with no trace of human blood. I murmur my thanks.
“Do you need anything else before we leave, Alina?” Charles asks.
“No, thank you. Are the girls joining you?”
Stephen snickers.
“They’re meeting us at the theater. They just stepped into the shower. Finally. Those three have been going at it for hours.”
“Thank you, Stephen.” Alina shoots him an exasperated look before turning back to Charles. “I hope you enjoy your dinner and movie. We’ll be fine here.”
The four of them nod to me as they leave, their comments of “nice meeting you” and “have a good evening” fading into silence once they close the door.
“You have a nice…” I search for the right word. On the heels of Stephen’s remarks, I’m not sure what fits.
“Family? Yes. Yes I do. And yes, that’s what we are. With all of its ups and downs. Please, sit.”
She gestures toward one of the upholstered chairs, then settles into a loveseat, curling her legs onto the cushion beside her. Raising the glass to her lips, she takes a mouthful of the bloodwine and holds it a moment before swallowing. The tiny lines of tension creasing her face disappear.
I follow suit, though I doubt I get the same pleasure from my glass that she does.
“Are they brothers? Charles and Stephen?”
“Yes, they are. As you witnessed, they have quite different personalities, and offer quite different delights.”
Embarrassed yet fascinated by the glimpse into Alina’s personal life, I offer a quick smile before continuing.
“Have they been with you long?”
“Let me see. Charles is turning eighty-one this year, and I believe Stephen will be seventy-two. So about thirty years, give or take a few.”
I’m shocked.
As with Marie, these men appear far younger than their actual ages.
“And Reina?”
“Reina. What a lovely woman. So kind and generous. I’m glad Charles found her.” Alina smiles and takes another sip of her bloodwine. “She’s been with me about twenty-seven years. She and Charles just celebrated their twenty-fifth anniversary.
“Carol is the youngster of the group. She’s only been with us a short while, and has completely rejuvenated Stephen. Of course, he’s always been on the immature and playful side anyhow.” Alina’s eyes light up as she laughs. “He’s quite fun—together they are a marvelous joy. And you haven’t met Tammy and Cherise. They’re also somewhat new to our family. They’ve been here about nine years. They tend to keep to themselves.”
Feeling a bit like a voyeur, I can’t help but want to know more about their intriguing arrangement.
“So they’re all your donors?”
“Yes, along with several others that live elsewhere. I take it you’ve little experience with donor circles?”
“None. Only those in Nicolas’s clubs.”
“Ah. Well, those unfortunate individuals never experience the true intimacy and benefits of belonging to a donor family.”
No. They’re too busy hoping their pickup for the night doesn’t kill them.
“You mentioned benefits.” I try to focus on the positive. “Like not growing old?”
“Our blood offers resistance to disease and aging, though it’s not a complete cure for either. It merely inhibits the process. Donors are more than willing to exchange a bit of their blood for such a blessing.”
Blessing. That’s not a word I’d use in an arrangement that so closely resembles a pact i
n which you sell your soul to the devil.
I avert my gaze and take a swallow of the wine, hoping my thoughts haven’t broadcast themselves.
“Judgment is an unearned privilege for the young and inexperienced. Be careful.”
Her neutral expression and tone emphasize my failure.
“My donors are healthy and happy and share a good life with me, as well as with each other. Do not presume they suffer by any means.”
“What about children?”
“Children?” Alina frowns.
“Yeah. What if Stephen and Carol want children?”
“If you think I would feed on children, you can leave. Now.” Though her voice is steady, an angry spark flares to life in her violet eyes.
“No. No, that’s not what I meant.” I swallow. “Children are curious and ask questions and talk about things they shouldn’t with classmates…”
“Sunny. You seem to think that after five hundred years, I’ve learned nothing. Of course I wouldn’t allow children in the household—for many reasons. That is why I do not accept donors who have any aspirations toward raising a family. The women who join me have either already done so, lack the desire, or are incapable. Carol herself is an example. Her ovarian cancer had rendered her sterile, and furthermore, she would have died without an infusion of my blood. I normally would not choose someone so young, someone who might still long for children, even through adoption. But Stephen had been seeing her for quite some time, and he begged me to save her. So I did. She understood the price, and the two of them are quite happy now.”
Feeling like an idiot, I bow my head. I used to do the same thing to Nicolas—judge him, then discover all was not as it seemed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
She nods and drains her glass.
“I’m not offended. I can see that you still have much to learn of Chosen ways. Unfortunately, we are out of time.”
“Out of time? Why? Can’t we reschedule my flight?” As anxious as I am to start my search for Nicolas, I’d almost welcome any excuse to delay a little longer if it meant a better chance for my survival.
“Our lineage is moving in a direction that makes many of us uncomfortable. There is a relaxation of certain guidelines dictating our behavior that does not bode well for the future.”
“What does that mean?”
“Éva’s always been a bit more… traditional-minded. She doesn’t hold humans in quite the same regard as Nicolas and I.”
“What about the others?”
“They are divided. I fear if we don’t split off, the entire lineage will become contaminated.”
“Contaminated?”
“Once a Chosen becomes accustomed to killing humans, they develop a constant need for the lifespark. And when one is surrounded by Chosen who thrive on death, it is extremely difficult to resist that lifestyle. It spreads, like a disease. And the only way to eradicate it is to eliminate the host.”
Eliminate the host.
“You’re talking Chosen war.”
“Yes. Unfortunately, I am.”
“Here. In America.”
“Yes. It will eventually spill over into Canada and South America. And in the meantime, our enemies are circling, waiting for the right moment to move in.”
Holy crap.
“So, you see, your trip has more than one purpose. Whatever your personal reasons are, you need to find Nicolas and bring him back. Only he can restore the order. None of us are strong enough to wrest the lineage from Éva.”
“I don’t understand. How are you able to even talk about this? I thought the Maker bond prevented rebellion, or at least revealed it.”
“Yes. That is the other reason why you must leave now. Éva’s flying in at the end of the week.”
Oh shit.
“She’s realized how thin the bond has become, and will be here to renew it with me, as well as with Robert and Elizabeth.”
“But can’t you just leave? Go elsewhere? Split off, like you said?”
“We cannot just yet. Our numbers are too small, and we do not have enough resources to do so. We now must wait until Éva’s attention lapses and she allows the bond to fade again. Perhaps then we’ll be able to move against her.”
“But isn’t there something you can do?”
Alina smiles.
“Play the Game. That is all we can do for now. Just play the Game.”
CHAPTER 79
I mull over everything Alina said about Éva’s impact on the lineage. There’s no doubt about the change in tone I’d witnessed at Nicolas’s club in the Springs after Leandro took it over.
And that was last June. I can’t imagine what it might be like there now.
Suppressing a shudder, I turn as Alina comes back into the living room after excusing herself to take a phone call.
A door slams upstairs, accompanied by a woman’s laugh.
“Well, now that they are out of the shower, perhaps you can meet Tammy and Cherise. They’re both musicians and are quite a delight.”
I nod, not knowing what else to say.
Alina pours herself another glass of bloodwine
“Would you like more wine, or perhaps a taste of this?” She holds up her glass.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
She gracefully settles back into the loveseat, her legs once again tucked beside her.
“So. Are you ready for your trip? Do you have everything you need?”
“I think so.”
“I trust that Colin would not send you unprepared.”
“He’s pretty thorough.”
“Yes. Yes he is.” She takes another sip of wine. “There is much about Europe that I miss. But I doubt you’ll have time to enjoy its diverse cultures and scenery. I imagine attempting to pass unobserved and alone through our enemy’s territory won’t afford you many opportunities to relax.”
“I’m going to Europe for only one thing. To find Nicolas.”
A loud crash upstairs rattles the ceiling. Alina frowns.
Movement in the archway catches my attention and I glance in that direction.
I stop breathing.
The tall, bare-chested figure rooted there is one I know all too well, yet wish with every feral cell in my body to know better. His damp hair hangs loose over his shoulder, begging to be untangled, but the comb in his hand is crumpled beyond use.
Frozen disbelief on his face melts away, revealing anguished desire that quickly vanishes beneath an expression devoid of all emotion as he slowly looks over at Alina.
“Ah. I’d wondered.” She sits up and puts her glass on the table.
The air itself suddenly feels as though it will explode.
“Do you two think to play me for a fool?” Her quiet voice cuts through me like a knife.
“Alina.” I shove myself out of the chair. “No. There’s nothing—”
“Do not lie to me. It’s all over your face. All over both of your faces.” She stands, her fists slowly clenching, the colors in her aura roiling faster and faster.
Violence knots his body as Taz snarls. Alina’s violet eyes blossom into crimson.
They glare at one another, their unspoken words thundering throughout the room.
And then he’s gone.
The slam of a door rattles the windows and I try not to look at the empty archway.
“Coward.” She turns her burning red gaze on me.
“And you. I took you in at the risk of losing my place on the Council, of being stripped of my lineage, which would leave me powerless to prevent the oncoming war. I sheltered you and gave you the best training possible. And you do this to me? To Nicolas?” Rage contorts her delicate features for a brief second, then it quickly gives way to a stony stare. She crosses her arms as blood from her clenched fists stains the lavender cashmere.
“I didn’t know… We haven’t… Nothing’s happened—”
“I should cancel the whole operation. It’s pointless now.”
“NOTHING HAPPENED!”
Alina takes a step toward me.
“Oh, something’s happened all right. You can deny it all you want. But I can see it. He’s been acting strange for months. Now I know why.”
The sound of a departing motorcycle only emphasizes her words.
“In spite of what you say, Alina, I’m still going to look for Nicolas. I… I do love him. And I will find him. With or without anyone’s help.”
She just stares at me with empty eyes.
“As much as I need you to find him,” she says, “I almost wish you don’t. You do not deserve him. You walked out on him and left all of our lives in turmoil. And now this. You think Nicolas won’t know there’s someone else? That he won’t taste your lack of total commitment to him in your blood? There’s no way he’ll come back now. He made it quite clear to me when he allowed Éva to take the lineage that without you by his side, he had no desire to continue leading us.”
He allowed Éva to take the lineage?
Oh my God.
I block out her other words along with my reaction to them, though each one twists in my gut with the fire of a heated blade.
Screw her. Screw all of them.
I’ll do this on my own.
“Goodbye, Alina. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
My back straight, I walk out the door and into the wet winter night.
CHAPTER 80
I fight to keep the car at a reasonable speed as I head toward home, though the manic beat of the windshield wipers urges me on. The last thing I need is to get pulled over, because all I want to do right now is tear something apart. Thoughts and images chase each other around and around in my head, and I can hardly focus on the rain-slicked road in front of me. At last, the interminable drive ends as I turn onto the lane leading to the house.
But just as I thought things couldn’t be worse, I spot Taz beneath the spotlight in front of the barn, leaning against his bike in the rain.
Hell. I’m not ready for this. I don’t think I ever will be.
Still a quarter mile from the house, I stop the car. The windshield wipers mesmerize me as they go back and forth, back and forth. Falling raindrops slice through my headlight beams, their sound against my roof growing faint as they diminish.
