Blood Royal Redux Final Edit 11-14-11 for upload html

by Suttle, Connie

  "Our girl is fine except for the terrible headache," Gavin put the rest of my blood back in the fridge. I think they all heaved a sigh of relief.

  * * *

  "We have records of deposits, as well as the aliases and the addresses of several homes across the globe connected to those aliases," Bill thumped a thick folder down in front of Admiral Hafer. "Along with names of contacts. Rahim Alif has no loyalty to you, Admiral. He's been handing out information right and left about you. Now, suppose you tell us what you know and which information you've handed to the enemy, or so help me, I'll see you crucified."

  Admiral Hafer sat in one of the interrogation rooms at FBI Headquarters, casts on one arm and both legs. He'd been inside those rooms before, only on the other end of the questioning. He knew the drill. He also knew exactly what was going to happen to him. His ex-wife and his son would be crucified with him and they hadn't even suspected. Alif hadn't been the only one pulling his strings, he now knew. The powerful vampire Xenides had gotten Alif involved to begin with. It was a game to Hafer in the beginning. He just hadn't realized how far it would go or how deeply it would wound the country. He suspected now that he'd been under some sort of compulsion all along, but Director Jennings wasn't going to accept that as an excuse. Admiral Hafer's career—and his life—were over.

  * * *

  I was huddled against Gavin's side as we watched the early news before dawn. The news crews had gotten word that something had gone down at Camp David two nights before and were pressing the White House for information. Eventually the White House Press Secretary held a press conference, explaining that campers had gotten lost and wandered into the space normally off-limits to visitors. He denied any altercation and said the situation was resolved amicably. That made Gavin snort while I laughed.

  "How is you headache, cara?" he leaned down to kiss my forehead.

  "Better. I hope it goes away when I sleep," I yawned.

  * * *

  Xenides had seen the misdirected information released by the White House and wanted to shout and tear the hotel down. Alif captured, Hafer captured or dead, five of his vampires dead—he hadn't gotten an answer when he'd tried to call and the three research biologists Frazier had trained were likely dead as well. Xenides' anger was at a dangerous simmer, but he still had several trump cards up his sleeve. He'd see about putting those into play very soon. Meanwhile, he cursed the vampires who'd died; they'd failed him for the last time.

  Chapter 13

  "Wear this, cara." Gavin had packed for me, with Roff's help, when we'd left Oklahoma City. Now he was holding up the dark green dress that he'd paid a fortune for last year in Dallas. It was V-necked with long sleeves, hugged my breasts and waist and had a flared skirt that came tastefully to my knees. There was a pair of brown designer heels to go with it. We had an invitation to the White House and Bill told Winkler that the President wouldn't accept no as an answer. Therefore, we were going. Bill sent a limo for us so we packed into it; Gavin, René, Winkler and Tony all dressed in expensive suits.

  I hadn't seen Michael in days, only now learning that the werewolf agents Renfro and Delgado had taken him with them to do a bit of moonlighting. I hoped he was happy and impressing Director Bill. Roff had no desire to go with us to the White House and Bill said it was all right if he didn't come. Just as well, I wasn't sure how to explain to the President that not only was he entertaining vampires and a werewolf but a genuine alien as well.

  We almost had a private audience with the President and First Lady—Bill was there, the Vice President was there, and the Speaker of the House. Apparently, he was in on the secret too, though I'd never met him before. He knew Tony; that much was certain. Secret Service agents led us into the oval office, the doors were closed and we were offered drinks. We were all seated comfortably while we talked with the President, the First Lady and the others.

  "Lissa," the President finally said, "I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me earlier. If you hadn't come along, things might have turned out badly."

  This sort of thing always embarrassed me, and I discovered that I could now flush, which embarrassed me further.

  "It was nothing," I mumbled, attempting to wave off the praise.

  "It might be nothing to you, but it means a great deal to us. That's why you'll join a select few in receiving a second Medal of Freedom tonight. Lissa, will you stand to receive this honor?" The President stood and Gavin had to help me stand as everyone else in the room stood as well. My knees were knocking together, I was so nervous. The Vice President handed the velvet case to the First Lady who opened it, allowing the President to lift the medal out so he could place it around my neck. He leaned down and gave me a peck on the cheek, too, as he shook my hand.

  "Thank you," I barely got the words out, dipping my head a little. Thank goodness, our group was small; I was obligated to wear that thing for another hour as we made small talk. The First Lady admired my ring, so of course I had to tell her that Gavin was my husband. Surprisingly, he was quite smooth about the whole thing when she started asking questions, such as how we met and how long we'd been married. He only gave the facts, stating that we'd met in Texas and had only been married a short while. She might have been shocked out of her shoes if she knew all the particulars in between.

  "Will we see other female vampires?" The Vice President joined the conversation. Gavin cleared his throat.

  "Most female vampires are much too shy," René offered a disarming smile as he and Tony came to the rescue. Winkler grinned and winked at me from his place at Bill's side.

  "Lissa is the only vampire I know that could do this sort of thing," Tony added. That much was certainly true.

  "How do you feel about joining their ranks?" The President asked Tony.

  "I like it very much," Tony replied. "Although it does have its drawbacks." The First Lady found that amusing.

  "I take it you were near death after the bombing in Paris?" The Vice President wanted to know.

  "That is correct, otherwise it would not have been considered," Tony inclined his head. René placed a hand on Tony's shoulder as a warning—not to give too much away. We finally were allowed to leave, after assuring the President that Bill had our number. Bill walked out with us and got us loaded into the Limo. "The President wanted to meet with you alone, Lissa," he told me before shutting the door on my side. "The Secret Service wouldn't allow it."

  "Are the other three all right?" I asked, meaning the foreign heads of state I'd hauled away from Camp David.

  "They're fine; perhaps a bit disgruntled over their shuffling off to the White House for the meeting. Camp David is being put back together as we speak. Hafer won't ever see the free light of day again." Bill closed the door and our driver pulled out.

  "We will leave tomorrow evening for Oklahoma City," Gavin said after we got back to the safe house. He'd gone outside for a while to have a private conversation with Wlodek and came back in with a grim expression on his face. I had no idea what the conversation entailed, but I'm sure it involved me, somehow. I packed up Medal of Freedom number two and placed it in the bottom of my suitcase, along with the green dress and heels. It was unlikely I'd be wearing them again before this trip was done.

  September was nearly over when we landed in Oklahoma City; Roff pointed that out to me. His watch was working just fine, thank you, and once again, I contemplated smacking Gavin for giving it to him. "We have two days here and then we must travel to Kansas City," Gavin informed all of us on the drive from the airport to the house in Nichols Hills. Something about that bothered me, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Gavin wasn't talking much, either, for some reason. Normally he didn't talk much, but he was bordering on complete silence now and that worried me.

  * * *

  Winkler was eating in the kitchen the following evening with Michael, who'd flown in separately. I'd made spaghetti for them—with meatballs, of course, when Winkler's cell rang. Trajan, Winkler's Second was on the
other end; I recognized his voice.

  "Boss—it looks like Kellee's in labor. No false alarms this time," came through loud and clear. Winkler was standing up as soon as the words were out of Trajan's mouth.

  "I'll be there in a couple of hours," Winkler said and terminated the call. "I'm going to the airport," he said. "I'll leave my things here; I can pick them up later. Michael—Bill said to tell you to give him a call when this is over and he may have a job for you. Lissa, gotta go."

  I stood there, gaping like a fool at Winkler. What else could I do? I thought Winkler was going to be with us through this whole thing. I should have known better. Multiple births tend to come early and not the other way around. Somehow, I wished I could go with him, just so I could see the babies when they were new.

  "Winkler, you're gonna be a good father," I came over and hugged him, trying not to cry.

  "Lissa, I'll make sure the twins know they have an aunt. I hope I see you again really soon." He leaned down and gave me a kiss—he didn't care that Gavin had just walked into the room. Winkler waved as he strode swiftly toward the front door and then he was gone. I wanted to run after him, but that wouldn't do. I stayed right there, rooted to the spot while Gavin came to put his arms around me.

  "Children on the way?" he asked softly.

  "Yeah," I nodded against his shoulder.

  "If there were any way, I would take you," he murmured against my hair.

  "I know," I said, reaching up to wipe away the tear that insisted on falling. Gavin led me out of the house and I went with him, climbing the steps to our second-floor guesthouse. Kifirin was there when we opened the door and Roff stood beside him, his bag packed. He looked as miserable as I felt.

  "I am sorry, avilepha, but I must take Roff back to his home, now. Giff has already been taken there, earlier today. I regret that I must take him at such a difficult time for you, but I have no choice. Roff must go home." Kifirin's dark gaze held torment, and I had no explanation for it. Gavin held me up when my knees threatened to buckle. I wanted to fall in the floor and weep. I thought all my tears had been spent five nights ago, but I was very wrong. I knew if I said the word that I wanted to say—why?—that I would break down again.

  "M'hala, it must be so. Do not forget that my love is forever," Kifirin sighed and he and Roff disappeared before I could reach out to touch either of them.

  * * *

  "Mr. President, do you think I haven't asked already? That Director Hancock didn't ask before me?" Bill huffed as the President looked at him across his desk, fingertips together and a slight frown on his face. "The ones we deal with—the ones in charge—will not allow her anywhere near the Middle East. That was a stipulation in order to get her help at all. In fact, when Director Hancock took her on that trip to the Arabian Sea, he was breaking his agreement with them."

  "Why are they insisting on this?" The President lowered his hands but his gaze remained fixed on Director Jennings' face. "She could do so many things if we could just get her over there to work with our field agents."

  "Mr. President, the information I have gathered I am not supposed to know. In fact, if her superiors knew that I hold such information, my life might be in jeopardy."

  "What information is that, Director?"

  "That there are only a handful of female vampires. They are nearly impossible to turn, as I understand it. And Lissa, well, she isn't like any of the others. You've seen a little of what she can do. They have a name for what she is, Mr. President."

  "And what is that?"

  "They call her Queen, sir."

  * * *

  We didn't speak, Gavin and I. We just sat on the roof of a mansion in Nichols Hills, Gavin staring at the Oklahoma City skyline while I examined the toes of my athletic shoes. I shivered now and then, though I wasn't cold. All at once, it had happened. One blow after another. Experiencing one of those moments in my life when I might have given just about anything to crawl out of my skin and into someone else's, in order to leave the suffering behind until it reached a more bearable level. My forehead was against my knees and Gavin, wisely, didn't touch or speak.

  * * *

  "He's gone." The doctor and a nurse stood before Franklin as Merrill slipped an arm around his shoulders. Franklin turned, placed both arms around Merrill's neck and wept. Greg had left him; only the machines had kept his body alive until Franklin gave permission to turn them off. That had been bare moments earlier. Greg had taken three breaths after the ventilator was shut off, each slower than the last until there were no more.

  "Leave us," Merrill commanded and the doctor and nurse left the room quickly. "Child," Merrill held Franklin away from him gently, "we must say goodbye to Greg. If there is anything else you wish to say to him, then now is the time."

  "I love you, Greg," Franklin's voice was agonized. Merrill led him to the bed, and Franklin collapsed against it, holding Greg's hand one last time.

  * * *

  Kansas City always looks so green to me, with trees everywhere. Oklahoma City generally turns brown toward the end of summer. Don and I used to go to Kansas City now and then—they have nice museums there to visit and we could get there in five or six hours. The Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art was one of my favorites. There would be no museum visit on this trip.

  "Gavin, do you ever go to art museums?" I asked as he drove our rental toward a hotel. It was Sunday night—the twenty-sixth of September.

  "If there are any open late enough for me to visit. I have been to the Louvre several times, as well as the Rijksmuseum. I am glad you kept the Vermeer, cara. Of all the works collected by Sergio, that would have been the one I would have kept as well."

  "Yeah. Someday, I want to hang it in my own home, Gavin."

  "Cara, that is the first time you have said such a thing to me." Gavin turned to study my face. "I know my apartments are not suitable, even if they were updated. I have never taken the opportunity nor held the desire to change my address for a very long time. When your five years of training are over, love, I will buy any home you want and we will hang your painting in a place of honor."

  "All right," I leaned back in my seat with a sigh. René and Tony sat in the back seat, listening to us. Michael had been willing to come, but Gavin told Wlodek he didn't think it was necessary, so the werewolf made his call to Director Bill. He'd be leaving in three days for D.C. and an interview. I hoped things worked out for him.

  I missed Roff and I missed Winkler. Why hadn't Kifirin stayed to explain why Roff had to leave, or at least given me a chance to hug him before he left? Winkler called just before dawn after he left, saying that William Wayne Winkler, Jr. and Wynter Willow Winkler had come into the world, both beautiful and exercising their lungs. Winkler had even sent photos through his cell. I'd shown them to Gavin, who smiled.

  "How did you get a Vermeer?" Tony's curiosity got the better of him and his question pulled me away from my thoughts.

  "Lissa's original sire, now deceased, had quite an art collection," René said. Neither Gavin nor I wanted to talk about that.

  I asked Gavin if I could borrow his laptop when we got to the hotel, but he informed me that he had work to do so I left it and flipped through the titles on my e-reader, searching for a good book to read. I'd intended to email Franklin and Greg—I was worried since I hadn't heard from either of them in several weeks. I hoped everything was all right, but I figured Merrill would let me know if they weren't. Maybe they'd gone to Monte Carlo, this time; they seemed to enjoy the gambling in Vegas. I sure hoped somebody somewhere was having a good time.

  I hadn't truly felt good, either, since Larry Frazier shot me twice in the chest, but I didn't want to tell Gavin. There wasn't any way to gauge what his reaction would be. Honestly, I just wanted to go home and realized that England was home. With Franklin and Greg. And Merrill, when he wasn't making me crazy. I wanted to have a sit-down with Griffin, too, and ask a lot of questions. About his side of the family. He'd said he was more than a hundred thousand years old�
�surely, he had family somewhere. I wanted to know about them. Who they were, where they lived, what they did. So far, he hadn't offered anything, other than the information that he was my father and that he'd been punished and kept from seeing me. I wanted that explained fully.

  Gavin packed up his laptop around dawn and hauled me off to bed without even letting me finish a chapter in the mystery I was reading. And I had another dream—the first one in weeks, I think.

  I was standing in a small clearing, thinking I recognized it somehow—as if I'd seen it before. Trees surrounded me on all sides and it was dark beneath their withering leaves. The air inside the clearing began to shimmer and I realized, even though I was dreaming, that this was another gate—just like the one I'd seen before when a young Xenides and others had walked through it. Only this time, I was close enough to feel the power of the gate—to feel the pull it exerted on me.

  I stepped closer and heard conversation—laughter even—as the Elemaiya came through. The energy of the gate whispered through me, luring me, coaxing me. Telling me what I needed to know to walk through it and go anywhere I wished to go. Anywhere. As long as a gate existed there, I was free to travel. That fascinated me. Called to me. Offered itself to me.

  I had to borrow a couple dollars from Gavin's money clip. I hadn't replenished my cash since I'd handed what I had to Winston Byrnett and his female companion. Hadn't needed any cash, either—someone else always paid or I used my credit card. Now here I was, up again during the day and standing in front of the hotel's soda machine. An orange soda had my name on it if I could get one of my dollars to straighten up and go through the machine properly.

  "Here, try this." A very tall young man was there, his light brown hair combed neatly and a smile in his blue eyes. He offered to trade a better single for the one I had. I gave him my best smile and accepted the trade. It worked, so I thanked him again and walked down the hall drinking orange soda as I went. I was sitting up in bed, finishing off my soda and reading when Gavin woke for the evening. I don't think I'd ever seen him wake before. His eyes popped right open.