Heir Of Doom

by Jina S Bazzar

  “No, just Akinzo.”

  I picked up my coffee, my eyes fixed on his, put it back down without taking a sip. “I don't see how that's any of your concern.”

  He exhaled. “Actually it is, and that's another thing we should talk about, after I explain about the clan hierarchy.”

  Unsettled, I remained silent. I didn't think what he was about to say would make me feel any better. There was a thick, tense air in the room, as if doom was on the horizon and we expected it to arrive any moment.

  Logan took a sip of coffee as he scrutinized my face. “Look, Zantry Akinzo is dangerous. Take this advice from a friend, Roxanne,” he said, his gray eyes earnest. “Stay away from him. He's not someone you want to tangle with.”

  “Oh, what is he?”

  Instead of answering, he frowned down at his mug, got up and poured himself the last of the coffee from the carafe. “I think it'd be smarter if we talked about Remo Drammen first.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  My heart skipped a beat at the mention of the sorcerer. “Diggy told me he killed Cara, Archer's daughter.” Even as I said it, I regretted it. The pain that flashed in his eyes was so intense, so unexpected, I felt like kicking myself all the way to next Sunday and back again. I got up, but didn't go to him. There was a distant air about him, a driving vibe that seemed to push things – people – away, that wanted no shape of comfort whatsoever. “I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me.”

  Logan took a deep breath, composing himself, clearing the pain from his face. “No,” he waved a hand in the air, “that's alright. I suppose you'd want to know. It's your right as a member of the clan.”

  “You – you two were close?” I asked. Of course they were. Didn't he tell me Archer raised him? However, nothing he could have said would have shocked me more than his next words.

  “She was my mate,” he said simply, expression calm.

  “Oh,” Was all I could think to say. I wanted to go to him, to give him a hug, any comfort at all, but I was rooted to the spot. I felt as distant from him as the sun was from earth. Wouldn't the death of a mate have debilitated him?

  In the Guide Book of the Preternatural, there was a paragraph that said that the death of a mate could cause the other to insanity, or to commit suicide. At the very least, the death would impair the survivor. I glanced at the end table where the book sat catching dust, then back at Logan.

  For him to be here, functioning a hundred percent meant her death occurred a long time ago, or that he confused love for the mate bond – also mentioned in the guide book. I took a sip of coffee to conceal my face, and the confused expression I was afraid I couldn't mask. Love or mate, why did it matter? “I'm sorry I asked,” I murmured.

  “No, you should know,” he insisted. He took in a deep breath, let it out through his nose.

  Wanting to give him time to compose himself, I excused myself and went to the bathroom, to wash my pale face with cold water. Looking at my expression, my too-wide eyes, I felt like slapping myself. A mate. No wonder Diggy had been surprised when I'd dropped her name so casually.

  What are you feeling, Roxanne? I asked my reflection, wide eyes staring back with no hint of emotion.

  Hurt, disappointment, dejection? Surprised that no one ever told you this before? Relief that you never gave in to the attraction, knowing that it'd have never gone beyond a casual fling? They were all there plus more, spinning within, with relief and hurt fighting to lead.

  There was so much going on inside me, things I didn't care to examine, at least not with Logan in the next room.

  Toweling my face dry, I left the bathroom, padding back to the living room where Logan sat, only to be slapped on the face with another startling, disturbing reality the moment Logan's green and yellow aura came into range and the inner line shimmered briefly. A silvery shimmer that I wasn't supposed to have seen.

  I stopped in my tracks, and Logan gave me a reassuring smile. “It's ok, Roxanne. No need to tiptoe around me. I was going to tell you anyway…” He trailed off, his eyes distant. “I already told you I was still a baby when Archer found me in the backstreets of this city.”

  I nodded when he paused to peer into his empty mug, a distant look in his eyes. “He took me in and provided for me. Because I wasn't one of them, I wasn't discussed with the clan right away. It was Alleena who first saw me, when I was still a toddler, and confronted Archer with it. But Archer was already the head of the clan back then and if he wanted to raise me, then raise me he would.”

  Logan fixed his gaze on me, his expression beyond serious. “He was never a father in the way that you think of a father should be. In fact, had it not been for Arianna, the woman Archer loved, he would have never taken me home with him. He provided shelter, food, education. He kept me off the streets and a possible trip to the dungeons of the Scientists. But he was never a father to me. There was never that bond between us, though I looked up to him and tried to live up to his expectations.” He frowned, his eyes searching mine. “I don't mean that to sound ungrateful. I say that so you'll understand what I'm going to tell you next.”

  I nodded again, not sure if I would understand. How could Archer have raised him and never act the part of a father, a guardian? Because whatever Elizabeth's fault, she'd played her part well.

  “When I was old enough to read,” Logan went on, “he deemed me grown enough to be left alone, and sometimes he and Arianna would leave me for long periods, sometimes months, making sure I had enough provisions and a skeletal staff to help get me by. Then when I was about eight, they left for a long time. When Archer came back , Arianna wasn't with him, but the baby was. He called her Cara. She looked like him. When Alleena arrived for their annual meeting that year, Archer announced Cara was his daughter. No one said who the mother really was; no one dared to ask, even if everyone knew. They all doted on her. It was obvious she was one of them.”

  My heart ached for the boy he must have been, alone and afraid, waiting for his hero to return, only to be replaced by something new, something better.

  “I helped them take care of her. I helped him train her. Then one day, out of the blue, I looked at her, the moon on her hair, the stars in her eyes, and something happened.” Logan fell quiet for a long time, and I gave him space, patiently waiting for the turmoil churning in his eyes to clear away.

  “She'd known it for a while, but was afraid if I didn't see it on my own, if I didn't acknowledge it on my own, her telling me too soon would drive me away. So she waited for me to feel it. We were young, she was still in her teens. Giddy with our discovery, we took it up to Archer, even if I'd had doubts. Turned out my hesitation had been warranted. At first he was enraged. He wanted to kill me. Would have,” he corrected, “had I been trained by anyone else. But Cara was strong-willed, as stubborn as her father. She pointed out that killing me would only drive her to suicide, that she wouldn't hesitate to do so. That even if he locked her away in a padded room, she would find a way to end it. That at the very least my death would impair her. We were mated, we'd acknowledged the bond.” Logan took in a lungful of air, his breathing shaky. Stress, Diggy had told me, was one of the reasons a Dhiultadh could lose enough control for that shimmer to appear in the inner line.

  “You don't have to talk about it.” I said, my voice soft. What must it have been like, losing her?

  He drew in more air and looked at me, his eyes clear of the pain I was afraid I would see. “No, you should know. Let me finish.” he stood, but fell quiet instead as he paced to the sink. His shoulders bowed, gripped the edge and leaned forward, his back to me.

  Such pain. How could he endure it? I waited, my heart aching for his loss.

  “Arianna supported our bond, and when Archer realized there was nothing he could do to reverse what had happened, he sent me away. Said if I wanted to be worthy of his daughter, I needed to prove it, that I needed more discipline. So I joined the Hunters.”

  I almost choked with surprise.

  A small smile tu
gged at his lips, his eyes distant and cold. “I wanted to prove myself to Archer, to be worthy of his daughter. I excelled at my assignments. Soon I was Roland's right hand. Whenever I had a chance, I'd run home to see her. But we were only a handful, and my assignments were longer and more challenging every time. I'd stay away longer with every passing assignment, and sometimes months would go by before I could see her. I'd get home one night, only to leave the next. Then, we finally locked onto Mr. Drammen's trail, a hot one.”

  This time my surprise was intense, bordering on shock. “Remo Drammen?”

  “The one and only.”

  “That was how many years ago?”

  “Twenty-six,” he said with a thin smile.

  “My God, no one has been able to catch him for that long?” No wonder everyone had been mad at me when Vincent wasted an entire op to get me out of Remo's Vegas penthouse.

  “Catching him isn't the problem. Catching him in his lair is. But we'll come to that,” he said when he read the question in my eyes. “Like I said, I was really good in my assignments, and I got a good sniff on the whereabouts of Mr. Drammen's lair. I assembled a team. Doug and three other members were the covert operators, Akinzo and I the distraction. We would circle around, meet with Arianna and Archer, and deal with Remo. Then we'd bring in Cara to help us with the lair. But Remo found out somehow – who we were, how close. What we were going to do. He was faster, smarter, merciless. He knew Cara was our weak link, not in strength, but because of her connection to me, to Archer and Arianna. She was our blind side.”

  Logan closed his eyes, steadied his nerves before speaking again. “I got home minutes before the guardians did. Cara had barely registered my presence when they arrived, one with a sword, the other with an axe.” His lips drew taut.

  The pain emanating from him was heart-wrenching. How could someone live with so much heartache for so long and still function?

  I clenched my hands on my lap, fighting the desire to reach for him, to comfort him, knowing it wouldn't be welcome.

  “I got a few broken bones and gashes, just by standing in their way.” Logan spoke to his empty coffee mug. “They were in and out of there in less than three minutes. Two days later, Archer found me unconscious, still bleeding to death. It took a lot of willpower I didn't have to shift, and hasten the healing I didn't want. I quit the Hunters, hid myself on Archer's estate. For years, decades, I didn't step out of there. If no one bought groceries, I didn't eat. And with Arianna gone, there weren't many who cared if I lived.

  “Then one day, about two years ago, Archer made me snap out of it. The entire clan was in upheaval. I was Cara's mate, and Cara was dead. By default, I became Archer's only heir. I was being challenged left and right for the right of power, and Archer had held them long enough. I was either to answer, fight like a warrior, or shame Cara with my defeat.” Logan glanced at his hands. “I fought like a man with nothing to lose. I took my revenge on whoever challenged me at the time. Everyone I confronted took on Mr. Drammen's face. By the end of the year, I'd cut down the clan's numbers considerably. The only person who didn't hate me was Archer, but even he resented me and my presence.”

  Unsure of what to say, I remained quiet. Two years ago, he said. He'd secluded himself for what, twenty four years? He didn't exaggerate when he said he'd been out of the game for a long time.

  “I don't know what to say, except that I'm extremely sorry for all that happened, and even that means nothing,” I said into the long silence that followed.

  Logan straightened and looked up. His eyes were cool and level, and not a hint of the grief I still could sense showed. “I came here today because I figured I owe you this much courtesy. Telling you about Cara and my mate bond is necessary for you to understand the clan's hierarchy and how it came to be.” He said , his voice stronger now that the grievous had been told. “You already know Archer is the head of the clan, as well as the head of the council.” He waited for my hesitant nod before continuing. “I'm Archer's second as an heir for clan leadership. I'm also the clan enforcer. Any problems within it come to my notice. Lesser problems are dealt without my need to consult Archer, unless a formal request is put forth that the council be involved. Then,” he said, lacing his fingers together in front of him, “comes Alleena as vice-council, and Vincent as Archer's heir for clan leadership.”

  I nodded, lowering my eyes at the ominous look in his.

  “I gather the high council you're talking about pertains only to the clan?”

  “Yes, every clan or coven or group of preternaturals have their own, usually made up of three to seven members.”

  I nodded again. “But you aren't a council member?”

  “No, I'm not. Only pure bloods are allowed to become members, and I'm a mix-breed.”

  “And who comes after Vincent?” I asked, because I didn't know what else to say.

  “Arabella, the redhead who accompanied me last night.”

  That reminded me. “Why'd you send her after me to the restroom?”

  “I didn't like the way Matilda kept eyeing you all night long. And when she followed you to the washroom,” He shrugged a shoulder, “it kind of looked suspicious.”

  “Suspicious how?”

  “She was a powerful charmer once, respected and revered by many. And then one day she appeared, her aura reeking of darkness, the result of some dark ritual. It was rumored she killed other preternaturals and absorbed their power.” Logan shrugged a shoulder. “Again, this happened at a time I wasn't around and I don't know many of the details. But whether it's true or not, she was banned from her coven and labeled rogue ever since.”

  He waited for me to say something more and when I didn't, he continued, “As a Hunter member, you have some leeway with Vincent, even if he is your superior on both counts. Any disrespect you exhibit will be up to him to be called upon or ignored. However,” his eyes became twin pools of icy storms, “you will show respect to your elders, no matter how much you despise doing so. I'm your clan enforcer, Roxanne, and I will enforce order when and if necessary by whatever means I deem appropriate.”

  I swallowed and ignored the hurt in my heart. He hadn't come to see me, but to warn me about consequences. Seeing my expression, his gaze softened and his voice became less frigid. “I don't want to be the one disciplining you for any wrongdoings, Roxanne, however deliberate. Neither do I want to pass the duty to my second.”

  I didn't say anything. After a moment, he sighed and took the seat next to mine. “I know this is hard on you, being that you didn't grow up with the same rules or this complex chain of command as a norm. I wouldn't be surprised if you thought of it as a barbaric way of living, and I suppose this is why Vincent didn't explain this part to you. But please understand these are necessary conduct and behavior requirements for a large group of predators who wouldn't bat an eyelash at trampling the rules if they thought they wouldn't be held accountable. This way we manage to keep predators under control, and still be civilized with one another. Otherwise, we're nothing different than the animals we represent.”

  Again I said nothing, and Logan's resigned sigh carried more weight. “This wasn't how I wanted our meeting to go.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had an annoying headache, then reached inside a hidden pocket in his jacket and extracted a small worn booklet. “Stipulations and Rules” was on the cover in bold tar-black lettering.

  “This will give you more insight on how the clan works. Anything you don't understand or have questions about, just call or ask Vincent.”

  I accepted the booklet – still warm from Logan's body heat – and nodded.

  “Let me tell you about Mr. Drammen,” he said, glancing at a silver-band watch around his wrist.

  I placed the booklet on top of the Guidebook of the Preternatural and moved back to the kitchen to prepare more coffee while Logan watched in silence from the living-room. I filled myself another mug, my stomach balking at the idea of more caffeine.

  When I finally turn
ed back to him, my emotions were under control. “Why explain about Remo? I mean, Remo is dead. What's so important about him that I should know?”

  “That's what I'm here to explain.” He motioned for me to sit on the sofa.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Remo Drammen wasn't dead. Worse, Remo Drammen couldn't die.

  He was a being made of energy from a place far off in space called the Quasar Stellar, a world of energy, billions and billions of light years away. A world where energy was sentient beings, without definite form or any shape.

  “Aliens?” I repeated, not sure if I was dumbstruck or just too numb to feel, to understand.

  Logan's smile held no humor. “In a way, I guess, but then who isn't?” He raised both palms, let them drop back on his lap. “There used to be two others like Remo: Arianna Lennerd and Zantry Akinzo.” Another thin smile at my shocked expression. “No one knows how the trio came to be, only that one day they appeared wandering the Low Lands. Because the trio had never been part of a land of forms and shapes, it was said that they had to manifest. And to manifest, they absorbed the life of that entire planet, killing it in the process.”

  “The entire planet,” I whispered, but Logan didn't seem to hear.

  He went on, “Everyone assumed there was a portal somewhere on the planet, and for a long time the trio searched for it. Then, one day, Arianna met Archer, and learned about the Dhiultadh, the Sidhe, the humans.

  'Zantry Akinzo was the observer, Remo Drammen the planner, Arianna Lennerd the dreamer. What Arianna learned, she reported to her kin. Akinzo liked what he heard and soon he, too, met Archer. Remo Drammen, on the other hand, felt jealous. He wanted Arianna, the knowledge, and the other worlds Archer talked about.”

  “When did that happen?” I asked when he fell quiet, feeling I should say something.

  He looked at me, his distant gaze focusing. “I'm not really sure about the dates, but over five centuries ago.”