Blood Queen (Blood Destiny, #6)

by Connie Suttle

  "They don't remember," Kiarra sighed. "Belen did give me these, though." She held Lissa's engagement and wedding rings in her hand. "I have no idea what to do with them."

  "I will hold them for now," Wlodek came forward and took the rings.

  "So, not only are some of her friends dead and gone; the others don't remember her? What kind of blow do you think that will be?" Russell observed. He'd leaned a hip against Kiarra's kitchen island, arms crossed over his wide chest.

  "Perhaps it is an opportunity for her to start fresh with them and only accept the ones she wants without any past history," Adam suggested. "After all, wasn't Gavin forced on her as a mate? Isn't that what happened?" He offered Wlodek a pointed glance.

  "Yes," Wlodek nodded. "But she did love him, I think. I will check with Flavio and perhaps arrange a meeting—will Lissa be brought to us? When will we see her? Gavin and Anthony are still employed by the Council as Assassins; if she wishes to see them, I will convince Flavio to bring them in."

  "I'd ask her, first," Merrill muttered dryly.

  "Perhaps Pheligar knows if Lissa will be brought to us," Kiarra said, turning to Merrill. He pulled her against him and kissed her forehead.

  * * *

  Gavin knocked the attacking vampire away with a vicious blow. Anthony was backing him up, but they'd found four rogue vampires instead of two and now they were in a real fight. Gavin already had one down and turning to ash, now another of their adversaries was attacking. These four that he and Anthony had tracked were killing in the Seattle area, and the murders hadn't come to light until one of them had slipped, killing a relief worker among the indigent, homeless population instead of one of the homeless. Until that time, not many had noted the indigent were disappearing upon occasion.

  Tony sliced the head from one of his opponents, slipping in under his guard. Now, the odds were better. Gavin snarled and went after his target again.

  * * *

  "I wish we could go to a bar and get a beer," Tony grumbled as he and Gavin loaded into their hover rental afterward.

  "You may go to a bar and get a beer. It will not have any effect unless you drink from a drunken patron," Gavin pointed out.

  "Thanks for the reminder." Tony slumped in his seat. He was now three hundred thirty-seven years old, and Gavin was nearing two thousand. Something seemed to be missing from both their lives, however, and Tony couldn't put a finger on it. Wlodek offered Tony a position as Assassin for the Council when he'd been barely six months old as a vampire. Tony continued his training with Gavin as time allowed through the required five years, but he'd been sent on many assignments alone, long before that time was up. He and Gavin only went out together now if they were hunting a pod of rogues. René's wealth was also his—Tony inherited when René died. He remembered little of René's death, and that troubled him. The memory was hazy in his mind.

  "Maybe it's because it was so soon after I was turned," Tony said aloud without meaning to.

  "What was so soon after your turning?" Gavin turned to Tony, curious now.

  "René's death," Tony said. "I only have vague memories of it."

  "It is the same for me; that time is quite blurry in my memory, while all other memories are very clear," Gavin agreed. "It was an emotional time for both of us."

  "Do you ever feel as if something is missing from your life, Gavin? Something important?" Tony asked, looking out his window. Rain was falling in Seattle, as it so often did. Gavin directed the hovercraft between buildings, turning toward their hotel.

  "Yes. I feel an emptiness at times. Perhaps it is because René is missing from both our lives."

  "Maybe." Tony wasn't sure that was all of it, though. "What do you think about the new blood substitute?" he changed the subject.

  "Tasteless, just as the others were, but it does feed us. That is all that is required, I suppose." Vampire scientists developed the substitute more than one hundred fifty years before and the vampire community was dependent on it for sustenance. Improvements had been made, but it still came no closer to actual blood. Seldom did they get real blood, and getting blood directly from donors was no longer acceptable unless it was an emergency. Gavin snorted. Gavin was one of the oldest now; he'd been turned in an era when taking from donors was the only option. "Call Charles and let him know our hunt was successful," Gavin ordered. Tony pulled out his tiny communicator.

  "Recording the information," Charles informed Tony from the other end, tapping the button on his personal communicator to insert the information into Flavio's computer. "Anthony, does the name Lissa mean anything to you?" Charles asked while he and Tony waited for the transmission.

  "Lissa? Who is that?" Tony asked, curious.

  "Nobody. I was wondering if you'd ever met anyone with that name." Charles had the answer to his question, now.

  "Not that I recall. Gavin is shaking his head, too," Tony passed off the additional information; Gavin was listening in.

  "Transmission done," Charles said. Tiny cameras, attached to every Enforcer's clothing, made recording data so much easier. The microscopic devices were incorporated into clothing in ingenious ways; front, back, high and low, and were difficult to detect. Cleaning the clothing failed to harm them, they were built so efficiently. The cameras were also quite expensive; therefore, the Council provided them and had them installed. Enforcers and Assassins faced a heavy fine if they hunted their quarry without the appropriate clothing, unless it was an emergency. Charles terminated the communication and went to report the successful hunt to Flavio.

  * * *

  "And just where do you intend to take me?" I jerked my arm from Kifirin's grasp. He was attempting to persuade me to come away with him, rather than traveling with the High Demons and the comesuli. Honestly, I wouldn't mind getting away from the comesuli. They were following me now wherever I went, Breth included, many with pure adoration in their eyes. Breth wasn't high on my good list right then. My hair still looked like a mess, although Kifirin offered to use his power to grow it out again. I'd refused. Kifirin brought in clothing for me, though, that actually fit. At least he hadn't brought dresses or skirts; we were still traveling over ash and with the rains on the Southern Continent, it was hardening and causing problems.

  "Away from here," Kifirin replied to my question. I was getting on his nerves and he was certainly on mine. Of course, he'd already been there before he'd shown up out of the blue.

  "You made this mess," I grumbled.

  "I thought my mate was dead."

  "Yeah, well, whose fault is that?" I snapped.

  "Avilepha, I am no good at apologies. I have never made them," Kifirin explained. I almost felt sorry for him.

  "Maybe you should have thought about that before sticking your teeth in my neck," I smacked his chest. We were having our latest argument in the middle of camp. Gardevik had already gotten his food and was eating with Larevik and the others. Well, the High Demons didn't have television, so they were settling for the latest episode of Lissa is Pissed at Kifirin.

  "Lissa my love, I was attempting to save all the worlds, not just this one," Kifirin said. "They would all have fallen if this one fell. Did I realize how much pain it would cause me? No. Nor the pain it has caused you. It was my hope that I could find you in your next life and make things as easy for you as I could. My arms are empty and my heart will be empty as well if you reject me."

  "Are you saying you don't deserve those things? Where were you before, Kifirin? Hanging out with dear old Dad?" I wanted to growl at him. Every High Demon and most of the comesuli were leaning forward to catch Kifirin's next words.

  "I was sleeping." Kifirin sounded sad.

  "Kifirin, I can't do this anymore," I tossed up a hand in a helpless gesture. "Do I love you? Probably. Do I expect you to hurt me again? Yes. I don't trust you. You didn't tell me anything, did you? How can I trust that? Why am I alive now, Kifirin? Can you explain that, please?" I turned away from him. The High Demons had now stopped eating, content to watch the s
oap opera unfolding before them.

  "Lissa, you are killing us both." Kifirin's arms were around me, and he was breathing warm air against my neck. We weren't in the camp any longer. "I know I hurt you. I know I was instrumental in your death. I felt you die, love. That's what truly woke me. The Dragon's Teeth require blood. Other blood was offered, but yours was what brought me out of my long sleep. You willingly sacrificed yourself in the end. Tell me you didn't know what you were doing. Tell me you didn't give your life freely, making your own decision that very last time. You could have backed away, yet you did not. You saw the opportunity to leave the Copper Ra'Ak leaderless and fighting among themselves for control. That would give the others a chance to win the battle and save this world, as well as all other worlds."

  "You know that's not why I'm angry now, don't you?" I tried to get away from him.

  "Shhh, avilepha," Kifirin kissed the back of my neck gently. "I was sleeping when you were birthed. I cannot go back and change any of that for you. What would you have done, love, if I told you that you were created to save the worlds? It would have frightened you. And overshadowed any happiness you might have had afterward. Tell me this is not so."

  "What happiness?" I snapped, struggling against him. He wasn't letting me go. Yeah, I wasn't a long-suffering heroine. Far from it. Nobody would be singing my praises in any paperback novel, that's for sure.

  "You have the opportunity now, love," Kifirin murmured against my throat. "Take it. Use me. Use your father. He would welcome the chance to make things up to you. Ask us for anything you want and if we can get it for you, it will be yours."

  "I don't want things," I muttered, tears beginning to fall. "I just want somebody I can trust. Somebody who doesn't want to use me as a means to an end. I want to make up my own mind instead of having somebody telling me what I can do or where I can go, or with whom." Kifirin let me go then and I walked a short distance away from him, keeping my back to him as I wiped tears away.

  "Your father and I will do our best to win your trust from this point forward," Kifirin said softly. "We thought we were saving the universes, little mate. We didn't. Our Lissa did it for us."

  "Yeah. Just send your kid out to take the hit. Griffin has never been a parent to me. He just showed up one day, announcing he was my dear old Dad, missing in action all those years. He was only waiting for the right moment to snatch me away and toss me in front of an army of Ra'Ak, knowing I'd do the right thing. Does that sound about right? Would you treat your child like that, Kifirin? Would you?"

  "Avilepha, it is over." Kifirin's beautiful face held agony—for both of us. "I know this pain is in you and it will be next to impossible to set it aside. Please try. For your own happiness, if not ours."

  I looked around me, then, still wiping tears off my cheeks and seeing my surroundings with blurred vision. We stood in a high mountain meadow, and it was lovely there. Snowcapped peaks surrounded us, while tiny white flowers and long-stemmed grasses bloomed and grew at our feet. I had no way to tell where we were and I wasn't about to ask.

  "So now what, Kifirin?" I asked, turning toward him. "You want me to go back and be Gardevik's cook for the rest of my life?" I flung up both arms hopelessly. "Wait on the fucking High Demons like a common servant? Is that what my life is going to be? I save their ass and they still expect me to cook?"

  "You do not have to cook again unless that is your desire. If you wish for the High Demons to bow to you, then I will command it." Kifirin was the god now, standing in a high meadow, his face stern and full of power.

  "You know I don't want that. I just want someplace to go where I can be left alone," I muttered. "I'm tired, Kifirin." I looked up at him; he'd come to stand before me. "Just tired. I still look like death warmed over and my haircut doesn't help."

  "You are depressed." He lifted fingers to my face. When I didn't pull away from his touch, he reached down and lifted me up, encouraging me to wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. His hand was gentle as he rubbed light circles on my back while I clung to him. "I am here, avilepha. For you."

  We were still connected—Kifirin and I. He was giving me mental words of love while he kissed me and the grass was soft beneath my back when he made my clothing disappear. My little love, you are so thin, his inner voice sounded sad. Have they starved you? I will never let that happen again. He ran his hands through my hair and it grew in his fingers. He kissed tears away, murmuring tender words. His lovemaking was passionate and gentle at the same time, as if he were afraid he might hurt me. Yes, I'd made love before while I wept, and I was doing it then, too.

  * * *

  "I desire to keep her safe while I tend to things," Kifirin said later. He'd appeared inside Merrill's study, a sleeping Lissa in his arms. She was dressed again, as was he, but he'd placed a healing sleep after he'd loved her. "Do not confine her; that will be too much. Provide companions or guards if you can and I will return soon."

  Merrill was shocked—not only to see Kifirin, but to find Lissa in his arms. So much time had passed since she'd been inside his home. He rarely stayed there now; he had a place at Gryphon Hall, Adam Chessman's old family home, where Kiarra and Adam were and Pheligar came upon occasion. He used his old study for business—to find some time alone, here and there. Griffin and Amara stayed at Merrill's old manor now.

  "She won't want to stay; Griffin is here," Merrill whispered as if he were afraid she might wake.

  "He will have to make his own peace with her," Kifirin said softly. "She is very angry with him. She does not understand why or how a father could sacrifice his child."

  "I don't understand it either." Merrill accepted Lissa's sleeping body into his arms. "I will take her to Grace and Dragon and the others. Radomir is there, as is Karzac, so there are three she knows in that house. Perhaps they can help her somehow. We won't ask anything of her that she isn't prepared to give."

  "If she needs funds or anything else, I will reimburse you for whatever you spend," Kifirin said, stroking Lissa's cheek. "She is so pale and thin. I beg you to do something about that, too."

  "She will never want for money," Merrill huffed. "Wlodek and I kept her assets before; he couldn't bear to take anything else from her, although we thought her dead. The investments were placed in my name when we forgot about her all those years. The accounts sat there, gathering interest. I invested it as well as I could, too. She will not have need for anything else."

  "Tell her I will return before long. I have much work to do." Kifirin disappeared.

  "Lissa, I want Griffin to see you while you're sleeping," Merrill leaned in and kissed her forehead. "I am sorry for so many things, little girl." Merrill sent mindspeech, and Griffin and Amara both appeared in seconds.

  "Careful," Merrill handed her to Griffin, who had tears in his eyes. "She's quite frail," Merrill went on as Griffin cradled Lissa in his arms.

  "This is our baby," Griffin smiled sadly at Amara. "She would have been born to us, if they hadn't decided to do this."

  "Why didn't they let her be reborn?" Amara wanted to weep over the way things were. "She wouldn't have hated us then."

  "This is our punishment," Griffin sighed. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

  "I want to take her to Dragon's; Grace and Devin can help take care of her," Merrill said. Dragon, Grace and the others had a sprawling villa less than a mile away. Grace and Devin shared eleven mates between them, as females among the Saa Thalarr were rare. Not as rare as female vampires, but rare all the same.

  "We'll go with you." Griffin nodded at Merrill. "I want Karzac to take a look—she doesn't weigh anything and she looks so pale. What did they do to her?"

  "No idea," Merrill shrugged. "Let's see what we can do for her while she's asleep."

  Chapter 6

  "I'll set up a transfusion." Those were Karzac's first words after he'd silently examined Lissa. "The vampire is still alive in her and the blood may help. It's possible they gave her fluids only for days and didn't feed her.
The common demons don't have anything in the way of feeding tubes, and have no updated training. If they found her unconscious, they couldn't have done much for her."

  "I'll donate," Merrill rolled up a sleeve.

  "Let me get Jeff, then," Karzac sent mindspeech to one of Merrill's twin sons. Jeff, the oldest of Merrill's twins, had trained as a physician and worked in that capacity for a very long time. He was also a healer for the Saa Thalarr.

  "Dad, you want me to take your blood?" Jeff grinned at Merrill when he folded in. Jeff was the only vampire who'd been born vampire, and looked much like his father. His fraternal twin, Franklin, wasn't vampire, although he also was a healer and resembled Merrill more than Jeff.

  "Son, get your tubes and bags out, or I'll take yours," Merrill grumped. Jeff knew his father was teasing.

  Griffin sat on the edge of the bed; Amara huddled against him as they watched Karzac and Jeff set up the IV to give Lissa Merrill's blood. Dragon came in during the procedure—Karzac sent mindspeech and he'd folded in from Falchan.

  "Do we need to get our warrior Queen some leathers?" Dragon peered over Merrill's shoulder as Lissa was given Merrill's blood.

  "Wait until she gains weight back," Merrill said. He was sipping a cup of coffee, though Jeff had told him to eat something after donating blood. Merrill had a coffee addiction and wasn't happy unless he had several cups a day.

  * * *

  "I'm only taking the IV out." The voice and scent were familiar, but I couldn't connect them to where I'd been when I'd gone to sleep. I unglued my eyes and stared up at Karzac. He held my right hand in one of his, removing an IV, just as he said.

  "That's great, honey," I said. "Do you want to tell me why the fuck I have an IV to start with?"

  "Malnourishment," Karzac muttered, pulling the IV out and placing healing light around the wound. "There, all healed up," he gave my hand back to me. "And I still expect you to come to dinner tonight. If I understood Mike and Jamie correctly, we're having pot roast. It's Kiarra's recipe and very good." Karzac looked much as he had the last time I'd seen him—three hundred years in the past. Same green-gold eyes, same brown hair that looked a bit rumpled, same slight frown as he visually examined me. Yeah—I knew I was as thin as a stick. I didn't know what to do about it, though.