08 Blood War-Blood Destiny (4 page)

"I feel very well, father," Roff politely covered a yawn. "Perhaps a little hungry."

"Good. Come with me; we'll see if you can eat solid food, now."

"Father?" Roff was confused. As a vampire, he'd learned that solid food made him ill.

"Radomir's blood may have brought about changes, child. We'll see." Flavio urged him to get out of bed. Roff rose, slipped into a shirt and pants, then folded wings tightly against his body and followed his vampire sire to the kitchen. Flavio's comesula cook was there, preparing breakfast.

"Try this," Flavio handed a plate of pancakes to Roff. Roff recognized them; thick, sweet syrup would go over the pancakes. He remembered the sweet taste from before, but he doubted they'd taste good now.

"Go ahead, try them," Flavio coaxed. Roff poured warmed syrup over his pancakes and cut off a small bite. The sweetness hit him immediately and he moaned in pleasure.

"Father, these are excellent," Roff sat down at the small kitchen table and dug in. Flavio got a plate for himself and joined his youngest at breakfast.

* * *

"Lissa, wake, my darling." Only one of my mates woke me like that—Erland had spent the night. After Kifirin placed me in a healing sleep.
The schmuck
.

"Erland, please tell me I can fold away and not come back for months," I mumbled as he kissed and stroked my hair.

"Sadly, you cannot. I have received mindspeech from Gavin and Anthony. Your prisoners are demanding to see you."

"Great." I forced my eyes open. "They think they still have rights, don't they? Has the entire Alliance seen what happened inside my Council chambers yesterday?" I blinked up at Erland's handsome face. I still didn't understand how he managed to look so good after a full night's sleep. I looked like a rumpled mess every morning.

"And most worlds outside the Alliance have witnessed your debacle. Certainly those with any sort of signal-receiving technology. Your grandfather has already offered to send Warlocks if you want your prisoners to suffer before their beheading. He found the murders of those poor women appalling."

"Tell Em-pah to hold off, although it's tempting." Erland leaned back to allow me to sit up in bed. "But those murderous assholes can wait until after we've had breakfast."

"They will undoubtedly wait until after breakfast," Erland agreed and insisted on carrying me to the shower.

* * *

"If you will bathe and dress, we will visit the Queen this morning," Flavio informed Roff. "I believe the flowers you sent her should arrive before we do."

"I sent the Queen flowers? Father, why would I do that?" Roff’s brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"Child, do you not remember her—again?"

"Did I remember her?"

"Oh, my child, she will be horribly disappointed," Flavio sighed.

* * *

"My Queen, these came for you." Grant placed a vase of flowers on the table beside my plate.

Lissa, have you received flowers?
Mindspeech came from Flavio as I was admiring the arrangement of roses and lilies.

Just now
, I returned.
Did you send them?

No. Roff sent them yesterday. When he still recalled who you were
.
Now he has no memory of you again.

"Fuck," I muttered, causing everyone at the breakfast table to look up.

"What’s wrong?" Winkler asked.

"Radomir’s blood didn’t help Roff’s memory. He’s back where he was when he first woke as vampire. He has no idea who I am. Again." I tossed my napkin onto half-eaten food. Rolfe had kept Giff away from breakfast with all of us—she’d been very upset over Roff’s wounding the day before. The baby would come soon, too; her baby pouch was getting larger every day. I was glad she didn’t have this information to add to the stress she was already experiencing. As for me—I wanted to weep. Roff had sent me flowers the day before, which might have meant something. Today, he didn’t know me again.

"Grant, where’s Toff?" I asked. Giff didn’t need to worry about Toff right now.

"He’s in my office—Heathe and Davan are babysitting until I get back. Rolfe dropped him off this morning after Giff fed him. Why?"

"I’m going to adopt Toff, that’s why," I rose from the table. "Roff may never remember either of us, and it’s already done enough damage to Giff. Get the paperwork started. We’ll work this out."

"Lissa, before you go," Erland held out a hand and a thick, creamy white envelope appeared in it. "Your grandfather sends this, with his regards."

"What is it?" I asked. Erland floated the envelope to me—it bore the crest of the King of Karathia—my grandfather, Wylend Arden. I slipped the note from the envelope to read. It was an invitation to the hundred-year ball at Wylend's palace, held, of course, every hundred years. Well, that beat the vampires' annual meeting all to heck. Only having to get dressed up every hundred years? That sounded great. I was invited to attend—with Erland, of course. Only those with Karathian blood, plus their mates and young children were allowed.

"It's not an invitation, it's more of a demand," Erland was now smiling over my shoulder as he read it.

"You're saying it's a hostage situation?" I asked.

"Well, everything but," Erland let his chin drop to my shoulder, and he kissed it while he was there. "The children are expected, too, you know."

"So Daddy and Amara will bring Wyatt?"

"I think so," Erland said, allowing his mouth to travel to my neck.

"Erland, do not give me a hickey," I tried to swat him away. The ball was to be held in three weeks.

"I'll find something for you to wear, my darling, and we'll dance in your grandfather’s ballroom." Erland tilted my chin up and gave me a blinding smile. I realized he was doing his best to take my mind off Roff.

"Want to come to the dungeon with me to visit my prisoners?" I asked. Yeah, I was blaming Roff's second memory loss on those assholes. It probably wasn't good to see them while I was so angry, but I was determined to go anyway.

"Nothing would make me happier, my love," Erland assured me.

* * *

Gavin, Tony, Erland, Winkler, Drake, Drew and Aryn were in the dungeon with me as I stood outside a cell that held three vampires. While most dungeons might be dark, leaky pits filled with rats and other vermin, mine was clean, well-lit and held cells strong enough to imprison vampires.

The three vampires held inside this cell were former Council members, AKA the ringleader assholes—the ones who'd volunteered to recruit others Council members to help the twenty-seven married assholes. They'd been more than happy to cause murder and mayhem. Already the Alliance media was calling the brief uprising The Fang Rebellion, and the increase in tourist requests to visit the palace (to see the Council chambers) had quadrupled.

"Did you really think you'd get out alive?" I stared at the three.

"Did you think to force us to part with our possessions?" one of them hissed.

"Possessions? What the fuck are you saying?" I stared at him incredulously. "You're only three hundred years old, for Pete's sake, and you didn't have a mate in all that. Slavery was outlawed long ago. I know you're from Driskilhin," I held up a hand before he could protest. "Even though your papers say you're from Trell," I added.

"I spent some time on Trell," he insisted. He was proud of his vampirism, I could tell, and flaunted his appearance as well as he could. Well, a nice face and fancy clothes weren't going to help him now.

"I don't care if you spent time on a pig's ass," I snapped. "You'll die, just like your friends, there." I nodded to the other two, who were older and knew to shut the hell up.

"Without a trial?" he sneered.

"Oh, you'll have a trial," I assured him. "I have messages from more than ninety percent of the remaining Council members, asking for your immediate execution. I assured them that we'd put you on trial, first." The most vehement message had come from Susila, our only female Council member. She and Oluwa had fought off a couple of rogues. I'm sure the rogues would be impressed with Susila's fighting skills—if they were still alive.

"You only have sixty-two Council members left," he laughed.

"Yeah. Those still alive are the ones with the most fighting experience. Too bad you thought they were all soft." Suffice to say, all of Earth's former Council members had sailed through the fray with flying colors, and with Radomir and Winkler helping, it hadn't taken long to take down the brief rebellion.

Sadly, Roff had no fighting experience and he'd suffered. He needed to get his fighting lessons from Gavin and Tony, and he needed to get them soon. I never wanted to see my winged vampire bleeding again. Not ever. I didn't care whether he remembered me or not—I still loved him.

"I wanted to see you die," the vampire interrupted my silence. "A King belongs on the throne of Le-Ath Veronis. Not some weak female."

"Aaand the misogyny comes out," I muttered.

"I can dispatch him now," Erland offered. He'd stood beside me, listening to the exchange in silence until now. Well, he probably had a spell or two up his sleeve and was itching to exercise a little power. "You'll be a pile of ash this big when I'm finished with you," Erland formed a small circle with his hands.

"Fucking Warlock," the vampire hurled his body against the bars of his cell. Erland didn't even flinch. Damn, that Warlock wasn't just a handsome face after all.

"Do that again and you'll be less than ash," Erland snapped. "You've had your say. I'll enjoy watching you die."

"You," the vampire hissed at me between the bars of his cage, "will die. I'm sorry I couldn't hand that death to you myself, but Solar Red will come for you, I promise. You are marked for death, bitch." Well, those words, marked or not, were his last—both his companions sliced him to death before he could turn to fight them. They hadn't intended for the information concerning Solar Red to get out—I could see it in their faces.

Gavin and Aryn took over after that, but the sketchy information we got from the remaining two ringleaders only told me one thing—that the one who'd died was right. They'd been contacted by Solar Red and the payment they'd received was for something they wanted to do anyway—come after me eventually. I hadn't approved any of these to come to Le-Ath Veronis, and I felt overwhelmed. It was a chore to examine every request, and many had been approved by others in my absence.

"Fuck," I muttered when the questioning came to an end. Gavin and Aryn wisely advised that we keep the Solar Red conspiracy out of the charges brought against the remaining vampires. It was enough that they'd committed treason against the crown, in addition to murdering other vampires. Their deaths were assured once they were put on trial during the next Council meeting. I nodded in silent agreement at the suggestion. The Alliance didn't need to know that Solar Red wanted me gone.

"Come, Lissa, we have more important things to attend." I accepted Erland's offered arm and we stalked away from the prisoners. After the first one died at the hands of his fellow conspirators, the vampires in other cells no longer wished to talk. Just as well—I wasn't in the mood to listen.

* * *

"What's this?" I asked. Grant had handed a comp-vid to me the moment I arrived in my private study.

"The summons to attend the Five-Year Conclave, complete with a list of more than three hundred agenda items," Grant said, hauling Toff into his arms. Toff had been running around my desk and laughing as Davan struggled to pick up the string of papers, envelopes and office supplies that Toff dropped in his wake. Grant had just curtailed Toff's race.

"Come here, baby boy," I lifted Toff from Grant's arms and settled him on my hip. He grinned at me and swiped at the comp-vid in my other hand.

"No, you don't want to go to a meeting with a bunch of dried-up politicians," I held the comp-vid away from Toff's tiny fists. He giggled. I tossed the comp-vid onto my desk. The Conclave agenda could wait—the meeting was two months away and I had more pressing personal business.

The rest of the day was spent putting the application together for Toff’s adoption. I held the baby on my lap while Davan patiently filled out legal papers. He smiled often as we went through the required forms—Toff would be a member of his family, too, once the application was approved. My Uncle was good with paperwork and he and Grant made suggestions on what to write in as the reason I'd be adopting Toff. When we were finished, there was only one thing to do—I had to call Giff into my study and ask her permission.

Rolfe ushered her into my office only a few minutes after I sent for her. She’d grown her hair longer and had taken to wearing women’s clothing, even though she was young and far from making the turn. I’d added a stipend to her salary for clothing, and Rolfe generously added to that amount.

"Raona?" Giff nodded to me. I could tell she’d been crying.

"Giff, I’ve asked you here to get your permission to adopt Toff," I said. "Your father’s memory has worsened, it seems, and I worry that you’ll have your hands full with your own child very soon. This will ensure that Toff will be cared for. He'll still be your brother, of course."

"Raona, I appreciate your offer. Rolfe said you might suggest this, and we think it is a good thing," Giff sniffled. Grant held out a box of tissues. Giff accepted it with a tearful nod of thanks.