by Irina Argo
Damn, Sekhmi lived in delusion.
Chapter 5
The next afternoon, Arianna stood before her bed, which held one very large mountain of clothing and one very modestly sized suitcase. When Simone had been in there with her, Arianna’s expression had been friendly, excited, but now, her face was unguardedly forlorn. It was more than just the ratio of clothing to available space, but wasn’t that an apt metaphor? The poor girl had no idea what she was packing for, or whether anyone would help carry her luggage on the trip.
Simone would offer, of course, but that was only because Simone never had to carry her own bags; if she ever did, Arianna wouldn’t be getting any help from the princess.
Meanwhile, Herself was busy packing the car with an ice chest full of cold drinks and snacks for the trip, like they were going picnicking. And she was being all covert-ops about it, trying to avoid detection by Anock and Odji.
It might have been funny—except that it was really damned boring.
Anock and Odji each sat on one of the twin-sized beds in the cottage’s guest room, laptops running the real-time security camera footage of the wannabe escape artists. Anock had assigned himself to follow Arianna’s movements, leaving Simone to Odji, who was much more benevolently disposed toward her.
How ironic that Anock was feeling sympathetic, instead, toward this Amiti, who was now doing process-of-elimination packing, hurling the rejects into her closet.
What time were they supposed to be meeting the Legacy guys again? Not that it mattered; Anock was clearly watching the pace car, who wasn’t measurably closer to having her belongings in that suitcase, and Simone would know that Antar and company wouldn’t leave if she and the Amiti girl—the Amiti Queen, Anock reminded himself—didn’t show up.
This next step was going to be such a cakewalk, it was almost anticlimactic. It had been a year since the Guardians of the Lioness, the vampire counterpart to the Amitis’ Order of the Eye of Ra, had initiated surveillance on Arianna and her house. It had been Anock’s idea; he’d figured that high-level Order operatives would come to retrieve their Queen now that she’d been left on her own. And since Anock was the leader of the Guardians and one of Tor’s most trusted advisors—not to mention one of the King’s adopted children—Tor had agreed to the plan, entrusting Anock with the immense responsibility of keeping tabs on her so that Tor could step in as soon as the Queen’s powers began to manifest.
With Tor’s blessing, they’d installed security cameras throughout the house and grounds, gotten a Guardian operative hired as Arianna’s housekeeper, even managed to buy the house next door. For a year, they’d kept watch on Arianna 24/7, simultaneously using her as bait and keeping her safe.
It was more than a little disappointing that no one had showed up. They were all getting a little too experienced, he reflected; they’d all done their jobs a little too well. The Keeper, Marcus, with everything to lose if his daughter’s identity fell into the wrong hands, had kept his human identity very close to his chest. Very close. It had taken Tor, with all his resources and a known deadline, playing for high stakes, almost the full twenty years to find Marcus. And then ... Anock rarely wanted to smack his own forehead in frustration, but the cleanup crew he’d sent to intercept Amiti attending Marcus’s funeral had actually been too thorough; they seemed to have already caught everyone who knew about Arianna’s whereabouts. Which helped keep her accessible to Tor, but had made her lousy bait.
So it was probably just as well to let Simone play out her little field-trip idea of getting Arianna Sanctuary. Simone would probably find a way to screw things up, but with Odji and himself playing bodyguard, nothing serious could happen. If it did, he was prepared to give his life to protect Arianna on behalf of his father and his King.
Huh. In her room, Arianna had clearly made some kind of decision and was now doggedly filling her suitcase. Wow, she could work fast when she needed to.
“Showtime,” he muttered to Odji, switching the security feed from the laptop to his iPhone. They started for the door; there was a Guardian vehicle waiting for them in the neighboring garage so they could tail the girls up to the city.
Oh, shit! Simone had changed course and was heading down the hallway toward their room. Anock signaled frantically to Odji. They leapt back onto the beds and tried to look casual, like she was just interrupting some lounging around.
A hesitant knock; then after his answer, the door swinging open. Simone with a tentative smile on her face, like she was going to ask him a favor. But Simone never wore that smile—
Just as Anock registered that something was wrong, Simone’s wrist flipped up, quick as a whip, and shot two blasts of energy into the room.
Damn, I underestimate the princess was Anock’s last thought as he lost consciousness.
Simone entered the room and gently placed the weapon she’d stolen from Anock on the bed next to him, then slipped out of the house and got in the driver’s seat of the Lexus.
Chapter 6
The sun hung low in the sky, finally dipping below the horizon, as the convertible sped along from Santa Cruz to San Francisco. The melancholy splendor of the picturesque hills in the slanting light matched Arianna’s mood. Even though she knew she was no longer safe anywhere, it felt like she was saying goodbye to all familiarity and safety along with her beloved redwoods. She might never see them again. She looked to the side to hide her tears from Simone, who had initially tried, very obviously, to cheer Arianna up, but now was thankfully leaving her alone with her thoughts.
The entire time, her intuition kept tugging at her, but she didn’t know what it was trying to tell her, its message drowned out by the heavy sadness aching in her heart. Or maybe, they were the same thing; these heightened senses were all so new to her.
She started feeling a little better once they reached San Francisco, the energy of the city and the relief of doing something—anything—about her situation taking hold of her. And Simone inspired confidence, weaving her way through the city as though she had spent her life there.
“Here we are,” Simone said as she turned into a multi-story parking garage several city blocks away from the main downtown area. “The Legacy has a helipad on the roof here.”
Arianna abruptly registered that Simone was on high alert, her head and eyes making repetitive circuits to the front and side, then in the rear-view mirror, and her grip on the steering wheel tight, white-knuckled. At the same moment, Arianna felt her own intuition leap inside her. Something’s wrong. With a rush of adrenaline, her senses went on full alert. Suddenly riding in a convertible lost all its glamor; it just made her a sitting duck.
“I think there’s a car behind us,” Simone was muttering through clenched teeth like she was afraid someone would read her lips. “Listen to me, Ari. I’m going to stop at the next stairwell. Jump out and run up the stairs to the roof. You can tell who’s Legacy because they all have arrow tattoos, above their thumbs, on their right hands. Undo your seat belt, now.”
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry. They’re vampires, I can tell. They are my people.”
“No, I won’t leave you alone.”
Interesting, Arianna thought. I can tell that they’re vampires, too. She reminded herself to analyze it. Later. When her life wasn’t in danger.
“Listen to me, Ari: they want you. They won’t harm me.” Simone slammed on the brakes. “Go!”
Arianna pushed the door open and flew out of the car and up the stairs, two at a time. A moment later she heard the screeching of brakes, then of metal against metal. She forced herself to keep going: she couldn’t help Simone, but if she got to the Legacy guys, maybe they could.
Hitting a landing, she jerked to a stop. She’d almost collided with a huge male body dressed in black leather. Vampire! her intuition shouted. She turned to flee down the stairs, but a second vampire stood on the landing below her. He wiggled his eyebrows and leered, amused at her horror.
&
nbsp; Time stood still.
She was prey.
She forced her eyes back and up to the first male, noticing—and ignoring—a third just behind him. They stared at each other for what seemed like an infinite space between two heartbeats—and then he moved and her heart thundered loud in her ears. He grabbed her shoulder.
“Let the girl go.” A cool voice said.
“Shit,” one of the vamps cursed. The steel grip fell away from Arianna’s shoulders. The two vampires on the landing took a single step back, and three more large figures moved into her field of vision, taking up some of the space the vampires had vacated.
“This is not your business, Antar,” the first male objected.
“Yeah, actually, it really is.”
The ease with which he spoke those words allowed Arianna to relax just enough to look at her rescuers. Three huge males faced the vampires, feet firmly planted. All wore black jeans, with black sleeveless t-shirts stretched taut over high pecs and revealing biceps and forearms covered with tattoos, including the upright arrow on their right hands.
The Legacy. All three were impressive, but dear Goddess, the male in the center was breathtaking, all tall-dark-and-handsome, with unruly hair and luscious chocolate eyes. He was clearly their Alpha; confidence like that was only acquired after centuries of leadership.
He approached her, ignoring the vampires, and took her hand. “Don’t worry, kitten, you are safe.”
His touch was a warm, electric current. Overwhelmed and a little giddy, Arianna lowered her eyes, hiding her mismatched irises from him so that he would not notice her defect.
“You are under the protection of the Legacy. I am Antar.”
Thank the Goddess. She had found them, and they were literally beyond her wildest dreams.
“I was looking for you,” she exhaled. “I ask for Sanctuary.”
“You’re granted Sanctuary,” Antar replied, his voice soft. He pulled Arianna to his side. The power and warmth radiating from his body was a safe, shelter, and she wished for that feeling to last forever.
He turned back to her attackers, who were still standing around, apparently reluctant to let their prey go but even more reluctant to test their skills against the Legacy.
“Gentlemen,” Antar said, his voice once again cold, authoritative. “This woman has been granted Sanctuary by the Legacy. We request that you leave immediately. If you do not comply”—he grinned, switching modes again—“I’ll make a necklace out of your fangs for this beautiful young lady.”
“I think you overestimate your powers, Antar,” the first vampire challenged.
But the third stepped in front of him. “These are winged demons, Ron. You can’t fight them. Let’s get out of here.”
“I don’t give a damn.”
“I suggest you rethink your answer,” another Legacy warrior growled at them.
“Stand down, Ron. We’re not playing these odds.” The voice came from the landing below, from the second vampire.
“Dammit.” The one called Ron stepped back, sulking.
With the danger passing, Arianna should have felt relieved, but instead a roar of feeling slammed into her body, squeezing her lungs, her throat, freezing her, like—like cold, or horror, or grief. It was just out of her grasp, she’d been feeling so many new things as she got her powers—
The winged demons stiffened. Their eyes darted to each other’s, wide with alarm. She felt their attention abandon the vampires, who suddenly no longer mattered at all. Antar shot off, so fast it was like he’d just disintegrated. She actually felt the wind against her face then a sudden tunnel of stillness.
It hit her: the blood-bond. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. With Simone
The air kicked out of her lungs; someone was grabbing her around the waist, then she was hurtling through space. Her brain processed that she’d just been carried at incredible speed by one of the other winged demons—and then her senses were assaulted by the heavy smells of burned metal and blood. Simone’s Lexus was smashed against the wall, the hood sprung, tiny chunks of windshield glittering across the cement.
A few feet from the car, Simone slumped against the wall, motionless, hands dropped lifelessly at her sides, long black hair covering her face. Her chest was an explosion of bloody bone and tissue, and a pool of blood spread beneath her, looking gummy and black under the fluorescent lights. Antar knelt next to her, his body curved inward like he’d been kicked in the gut, his face stricken.
“No!” Arianna screamed. The blood-bond raged at her with the knowledge that Simone was dead. Her heart was rejecting it, though; she heard herself repeating over and over like an incantation, “No, no, no! She can’t be dead. She’s a vampire, immortal. She can regenerate.” But even she knew that vampires couldn’t bring themselves back from the dead.
There was a thought slipping through Arianna’s consciousness but it kept skittering away, a fish sliding through dark water. Arianna forced herself to focus. She knew something, something extremely important ... Focus, she commanded herself. You can do this. Gathering all her willpower, she brought herself back from the paralysis of the shock.
“I have a blood-bond with her. I can bring her back.”
Everyone’s eyes suddenly pivoted to her, everything still and silent except her footsteps as she walked toward Simone. Supposedly she didn’t need to be touching her blood-bond to resuscitate her, but she didn’t want to take any chances.
She crouched next to Simone and placed her hands on her sister, closing her eyes and focusing on the bond. Ah, there they were—she could feel her blood cells in Simone’s body, still and dormant. She sent a signal to them, commanding them to move, to reactivate Simone’s life-force. The cells began to roll through Simone, billions of microscopic pulsations bringing to life their neighboring cells, regenerating and re-energizing them until Simone’s whole body vibrated with new life. A few long minutes later, Simone’s heart stopped shuddering and resumed its normal rhythm.
At the same time, as though sharing one body, both sisters took a deep breath, and two pairs of eyes flew open.
Arianna was only dimly aware of one of the Legacy warriors carrying her upstairs to the helipad. Antar had Simone up front, but Arianna couldn’t focus on them. She was completely absorbed in the aftermath of working the blood-bond. Honestly, when her father had told her about it, she’d listened like a child being told a ghost story, believing that it was only a legend passed down through the generations. It was mind-blowing to discover that it was not. Her head reeled with the new possibilities that were unfolding for her.
Chapter 7
Two hours later, Arianna sat on an overstuffed black velvet sofa in the living room of the Legacy’s Sausalito mansion, waiting for her official introductory meeting with the Legacy. The helicopter ride had been mercifully brief—and mercifully low-altitude. Arianna and Simone had been shown to their rooms, reunited with the luggage that the warriors had retrieved from Simone's wrecked Lexus, and taken quick showers.
The space she now sat in was modern but comfortable, all glass and chrome and splashes of black and red, with snacks and drinks arranged on side tables. Simone sauntered around the room studying the art on the walls. Four impressive Legacy males, two of them familiar to Arianna from the parking garage, relaxed on the floor and chairs, watching TV, offering occasional easygoing commentary. Simone was determined not to be tongue-tied around them. But it was hard to be around men so good-looking, not to mention brave and seemingly good-natured, too. And they could fly. Goddess.
“I’m glad to see you’ve made yourselves comfortable,” Sargas, Antar’s second-in-command, whom they’d officially met on the ride over, said as he came into the room. “We’ll start our meeting shortly.” He settled on the couch next to Arianna and turned his gaze to the TV.
They sat there in silence for a moment, Arianna throwing a couple of quick—and, she hoped, discreet—glances in Sargas’s direction. The guy looked f
riendly. Now was as good a time as any to find out more about the people who were going to be her protectors and housemates for the foreseeable future.
“So, um, who—or what—is Tyr?”
“He’s the Nordic god of protection, justice, and divine order. Once Tyr saved two worlds, the worlds of gods and humans, from the gigantic wolf, Fenrir, who threatened to destroy both worlds. Tyr also made it his goal to prevent the two worlds from collapsing into each other. There was a prophecy that if they collided they would annihilate each other. Tyr’s goal became our mission. We prevent the two worlds, immortals and humans, from destroying each other.”
“And the tattoos...?” She gestured at the black upward-pointing arrow on the back of Sargas’s right hand, between his thumb and index fingers.
“This is rune Tiwaz, Tyr’s rune. We wear it to honor Tyr. Tyr sacrificed his right hand in his fight with Fenrir. That’s why we all tattoo Tyr’s rune on our right hands. It channels his powers to us.”
“Why then—”
“What are we waiting for?” Simone interrupted Arianna’s question, simultaneously landing on the sofa on Arianna’s other side.
“You are waiting for me,” Antar answered, entering the room. “Sorry for making you wait; I had some important calls to make.”
For a moment it seemed as though all the air had been sucked out of the room—and then Arianna realized that the effect was partly because someone had cut off the ambient sound of the television. But that’s not all of it. The man has some serious presence, she thought, watching as Antar went over to the side table, poured himself a drink, and sat in a chair opposite the sofa. He took a deep swallow from the glass, then set it down on the coffee table and leaned forward, all warm-eyed but businesslike.
“Arianna, you have officially requested Sanctuary and we have officially offered it. There are a few things you need to know before you accept it.” His gaze traversed the room, making eye contact with each of the males before he continued. “I also want to refresh my brothers on the rules of Sanctuary, as it has been a while since it was last provided.”
