Blood Legacy Origin of Species (10 page)

“Should I provide a dowry beforehand in the future?”

Marilyn burst out laughing and Victor studiously returned to his paper, his mouth twitching. Susan fled the room, adding to Ryan’s consternation. She turned a black look on Marilyn, who was unrepentant in her own way.

“Oh come, Ma Cherie, you have to admit that was funny.”

Much to her dismay, Ryan did have to admit it was funny, and it had quite deflated her fury. She tried to generate even mild anger but had to settle for minor annoyance. Her annoyed look deflected off the Teflon of Abigail’s demeanor and the matriarch returned to her needlework. Ryan sighed.

“I’m going to find Dr. Ryerson.”

This task was remarkably easy as Susan had made it only as far as the stables before Ryan caught her.

“Susan,” Ryan said, stopping the red-haired woman as she entered the barn. Ryan turned her around to face her. “Did she hurt you?”

Susan shook her head, embarrassed. “No, no, it was nothing like that. She simply wanted information.”

“So she took your Memories,” Ryan deduced.

“Yes, my Memories of you, of course. She wanted to know about our captivity, and about Madelyn.”

Ryan’s jaw tightened and Susan continued. “I’m sorry. I showed her everything.”

Ryan shook her head. “It’s not your fault. There is no way you could have resisted her. I can’t even resist her,” Ryan admitted.

Two arms encircled Ryan’s waist as Marilyn appeared behind her. “Yes,” the dark-haired woman said, laughing, “even now she twists you about her finger like a piece of tattered twine. I thought you would grow out of it, little one.”

“Right,” Ryan said wryly, “just as I was able to grow out of you.”

“Ah,” Marilyn said teasingly, “I am so happy to know you still care. But I did not come out to the stables to discuss our relationship, but rather to discuss the state of my offspring here.”

As she said this, Marilyn turned the full force of her attention to Susan as she leaned against Ryan, peering over her shoulder. Susan nearly wilted under the seductive onslaught.

“When,” Marilyn asked, “is the last time you Shared with anyone?”

Susan’s cheeks were the color of her hair. “Well, there was just Abigail.”

“That does not count,” Marilyn said emphatically, “and you did not take any of her blood.”

Susan tried to think back. “Well, Ryan gave me a drop of her blood several months ago.”

Marilyn glanced to Ryan with interest. “Really? Well, that always counts. But that is not what I am talking about.”

Ryan was growing concerned, understanding Marilyn’s line of questioning. “Susan, when is the last time you Shared with someone?”

Susan could not really remember. “Maybe when I last saw Raphael?”

Raphael was the young man Ryan had chosen from Marilyn’s line to initiate Susan’s Change. Susan had spent some time with him after her transition, but Ryan calculated the gap in time and realized that had been quite a while ago. And there was no one about the mansion she could successfully pair with because all were so powerful that even Edward’s blood would most likely kill Susan.

“I have been selfish,” Ryan said with recrimination.

“Oh yes, little one,” Marilyn said, exasperated, “you were entirely too caught up in your own petty affairs, the illness of your father, your assumption of command of the hierarchy, your battle to the death with that hideous creature. Mon Dieu, how could you be so selfish?”

It was Ryan’s turn to blush at the sarcasm. “Okay, maybe I’ve been a little busy. But we have to rectify this.”

“I agree,” Marilyn said, and Susan tried to pretend they were not discussing her like a piece of meat. “We could invite that young man here.”

Ryan was thoughtful. “No,” she said slowly, “that might be awkward for Raphael. He seems quite uncomfortable around Victor and Abigail.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Marilyn said. There was nothing like meeting the pillars of your Kind while still an infant.

“No,” Ryan said, more certain, “we should take Susan to them.”

“What is this ‘we?’” Marilyn said, glancing down at Ryan in surprise. “You are not going anywhere. I am quite certain your father will not approve of this. And I know,” Marilyn said with emphasis, “that your taskmaster will not approve.”

Ryan turned to Marilyn and, raising herself to her full height, looked her directly in the eye. “I am still the leader of our Kind, and unless Victor or Abigail wishes to challenge me, I have not yet relinquished the position.”

Marilyn smiled. Only she could rile Ryan into such a rash action.

“And,” Ryan said, nodding toward Susan, “if I receive her medical permission, I will be traveling in the company of my physician.”

“And finally,” Ryan said, “although I can’t believe these words are coming out of my mouth, you will be there to keep an eye on me.”

Marilyn glanced over at Susan, then back at Ryan. “Very well,” she said as if capitulating, “if that is your plan.” She winked at Susan, then disappeared as if she had never been there at all.

Ryan stared at the empty space in front of her that had so recently been occupied by the dark-haired temptress. She turned to Susan with a sigh.

“How does that woman always gets exactly what she wants, and yet somehow it is always my idea?”

CHAPTER 9

“ARE YOU REALLY CONVINCED of the wisdom of this journey?” Abigail said to Victor at her side. The two watched as the private jet taxied the runway, gained speed, then lifted off.

“Of course I’m not,” Victor said, “I think it’s a terrible idea. But when Ryan agreed to a three-week waiting period, I assumed she would suffer some sort of relapse that would eliminate the possibility. And you know how stubborn she is.”

Abigail watched as the plane grew smaller. “And she will not have Edward’s steadying influence.”

“No,” Victor agreed. Edward would be watching the boys. “She has only Marilyn.”

“I assume,” Abigail said mildly, “that you will have transportation ready at a moment’s notice?”

“I left explicit instructions. The cars are prepared, the plane is waiting on the runway. Our total response time is under an hour.”

“That may not be enough if something goes wrong,” Abigail said, her tone still entirely conversational. They could have been discussing the weather.

“Yes, I know. Which is why I have sent for reinforcements.”

The plane was now out of sight. Abigail turned to him, assessing his last statement. She understood.

“He may not be able to stop her if she enters a ‘savage’ phase.”

Victor watched the sky where the plane had disappeared. “Yes, but I think he will have more luck than I.”

Susan was excited in spite of herself. Perhaps it was because she had been working non-stop, at first documenting her own Change, then attempting to diagnose what was wrong with Ryan. Perhaps she was still feeling the after effects of her prolonged captivity. Perhaps she was looking forward to being in the company of her Kind who did not completely overwhelm her. Or, Susan admitted to herself, maybe she was looking forward to the possibility of Sharing with someone in a union that would not end in her death.

Marilyn examined the high color of her progeny. This was a very good idea. Dr. Ryerson’s development had been neglected thus far. Most Young Ones spent their time in the company of other Young Ones, or at least with those of the middle ground. It allowed for exploration and growth. It also allowed for a great deal of collateral death as Young Ones were routinely killed in the act of Sharing due to the lack of control of the more powerful in the union. Sharing to the point of death was the greatest ecstasy of their Kind, and it was in fact a powerful check on their population numbers.

Marilyn’s eyes shifted to Ryan, who sat gazing out the window of the plane. It was unlikely that anyone would dare harm Dr. Ryerson, or even attempt to.

Ryan was lost in her own thoughts, but they were not on the pleasantness of Sharing. They were on the last few times she had been on a jet. The time prior had been when she had returned from her captivity, rescued by her father and the army he had assembled. But prior to that, she had been on a jet several times, bound, blind-folded, and drugged as Madelyn had carted her back-and-forth across the planet. A muscle in her cheek tightened as she recalled the helplessness and despair she had felt.

“Ah, little one, I would do anything to banish that look from your eyes.”

Ryan turned to Marilyn and she could not have maintained the dark mood even had she wanted to. “Anything?” she asked, her mood turning distinctly playful.

“Oh yes,” Marilyn assured her.

“You forget, I am still under quarantine. Although,” Ryan continued thoughtfully, “I seem to have taken Victor’s blood with no ill effects for him, so perhaps I could take yours.”

Marilyn was amenable to that plan. “You know I like giving as much as receiving.”

Susan put a stop to the dangerous flirtation. “There will be none of that.”

Marilyn cast a baleful eye in Susan’s direction. “You are quite domineering for a Young One. Perhaps you are actually of Abigail’s line.”

Ryan muffled laughter at this comment as Susan tried to maintain her dignity.

“Until I have medically cleared Ryan it is too dangerous for anyone to have contact with her blood.”

“Of course,” Marilyn said, “because lord knows that Sharing is so inherently safe.”

This again brought a smile to Ryan’s face. Susan was thankful that the plane began making a quick descent.

It was several hours before they were to meet Raphael at the library and Ryan wanted to go for a walk. The limousine dropped them off at the gate to the local park, a beautiful recreational facility surrounded by greenery and teeming with urban wildlife. Doves, crows, pigeons, swallows and robins were all abundant. Fat brown squirrels dove for cover as the occasional peregrine falcon appeared, then came boldly back out in hopes that the visitors would ignore the signs that forbid their feeding. Ducks and geese glided across the various water features of the park.

The three made quite a sight as they progressed through the park, the fair-haired, the dark-haired, and the red-haired. Susan was surprised that they were not attracting more attention. Ryan was striking and Marilyn stunning and the two of them together were simply overwhelming. But she herself seemed to be the only one attracting any notice, and that ranged from looks of polite appreciation to outright leering.

Ryan stopped at a fountain to examine a family of ducklings that had taken up occupancy. Susan watched as one duckling made a beeline toward Ryan, swimming right into the hand she placed in the water. Ryan gently lifted the duckling from the water and her eyes lit up at the tiny water fowl.

“Interesting, isn’t it,” Marilyn said, “how that miniature ball of fluff feels safe with what is probably the most powerful creature on this planet?”

Ryan gently returned the duckling to its worried mother. “Yes,” Susan said, watching Ryan move with her usual deadly grace, “and I’m always struck with how oblivious Ryan is to the attention she generates.”

“Well, none of these people can actually see her right now,” Marilyn said, then with a knowing glance down at Susan, “except you.”

Susan blushed, realizing she had been staring at her friend. Marilyn did not let the reaction pass without comment.

“You’re going to have loosen up a bit, my dear. You remind me of those from the Victorian era. Although,” Marilyn admitted, “they are only puritanical on the outside. Inside, those are some of the most deviant people I’ve ever met.”

Marilyn made this statement sound like a compliment, and Susan was thankful it did not require a response.

Ryan was aware of the conversation between her two companions but she found her surrounding so visually interesting she did not wish to engage. Even the people here were interesting, which was surprising because humans generally attracted no attention from her. But these humans reminded her of the carnival-like characters from her childhood. There was the freakishly thin bald man with his numerous piercings, eating the glass of a light bulb to the cheers of those surrounding him. There was the gray-haired woman who looked twice her actual age, carrying her life’s belongings and a mangy calico cat in a dirty designer hand-bag. There was the drug addict couple, euphoric and intensely in love, at least for the moment. And the preacher in his tattered black dress pants, scuffed patent leather shoes, and wrinkled white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, complete with a clip-on tie, preaching loudly from the Bible he had stolen from his rat-infested motel room.

Ryan’s perusal of the crowd stopped abruptly on one figure. Now this one was very strange. He was utterly deformed, a freak even amongst this crowd. His skin was pock-marked with scars and he had a large tumor-like growth on the side of his head, so large it seemed almost a second head. The features of his face sagged, not as if from normal aging but as if all of the connective tissue of his skin had given way at once. His mouth sagged open, his nose draped downward, his cheeks were jowls, and his lower eyelids drooped open, revealing the wet redness beneath his eyes. But it was not even his hideous appearance that so attracted Ryan’s attention, but something far more significant.