Blood Sacrifice (7 page)

Her laugh tinkled through the phone line. “Indeed.”

“Minerva, my gut instinct is for us four to come to you,” Adam said. “I’d intended for us to sequester ourselves in San Antonio, but since we are not sure of
the interpretation, perhaps bringing you the scroll is a better idea. Even though it’s bespelled, we can perhaps transliterate as best we can and maybe you can assist?”

“You think my Kelly blood will more easily help than your father’s Sidhe blood? A good thought. However, that’s wasting time. Scan the thing and email me the images. I’m not sure spells will stand up to electronics. Old language and old spells never took into account modern ways of copying.”

Adam and I both looked at each other with the same expression. How had we not thought of that? The spells were woven into the scroll’s parchment. If Gigi wasn’t in the same physical space as the actual parchment, perhaps that would void the runespells since the images were not the thing itself. Hell, it was worth a try.

“No need to.” Tucker announced as he strode through the door. “I’ve taken several photos of it and texted them to you.”

“Well, you’re on the ball, Brother,” I said. “What made you think of that?”

“Because every time I looked at the damned thing, I interpreted it a bit differently,” he said. “Then the same thought occurred to me. If we emailed it, it wasn’t the actual parchment, therefore the spells embedded in it might not pertain. I was just coming down to tell you that I’d sent Minerva the files, but then I heard you were speaking with her.”

Again, handy thing our preternatural hearing. Saved us a lot of time and fuss.

“I’ve received the files,” Gigi said. “Give me a few moments to look at this.”

We all stood there, silent, waiting. A few “hmms” and “ahs” came over the phone. I half expected to hear a rustle of paper, imagining Gigi bent over an ancient manuscript with a magnifying glass, instead of viewing an electronic file on her computer.

“Just as I suspected. I can read most of it, but it’s not clear. It’s subtle and very, very tricksy. Your first instinct was correct, Aeddan,” she said, calling Adam by his formal name. “It’s similar to the Kellys’ own twenty-four hour rule. We require those of supernatural bent to report in, as it were, if they come within one hundred miles of Kelly land. With this, it seems that as long as no one of your blood is within one hundred miles of the boundaries of the property—not your claimed rule, but the property you call your home, the heart of your land, you will fall within the strictures of the Challenge. This is old traditional language, a formula set in the days when the lands one held weren’t quite so…”

“Global?” I supplied with relief. Leaving to go stay in San Antonio wasn’t my first choice of events, but leaving the country entirely perturbed me beyond simple worry. Sure, easy enough to clear out and head north to Canada, but the farther we were from this property, the easier it would be for Gideon to win… or so it appeared to me.

A tinkle of laughter resounded through the room. Even via the phone speakers, Gigi’s power resounded. “You are my heir, Keira,” she said, her tone sobering. “I have begun procedures to ritually sever Gideon’s ties to the Kelly clan.”

I nearly fell to the floor at her announcement. Adam’s eyes widened, but otherwise his face revealed
nothing more. Tucker beamed, while Niko only shook his head, his gaze on the floor. I couldn’t tell if he was laughing, though I suspected he was.

“What, no reaction?”

“Words fail me, Minerva,” I said. “After everything, I never thought—”

“No, I suppose not,” she replied. “It was not my intention to limit ourselves. I had hoped the boy would step up, forget this foolish ambition of his and be content, happy with sharing the heirship.”

I snorted, then tried to turn it into a cough.

“Be still, Daughter,” Gigi said. “Though you may be amused by this, I most certainly am not. This scuttles many of my plans. I shall have to regroup, rethink. In the meantime, you must move everyone.”

Was I supposed to ask her about her plans? Adam, as if anticipating my question, shook his head. “Not now,” he mouthed. I nodded. We had plenty to think about. I could talk to her later. After we’d settled this.

“Everyone?” Adam asked her. “We
must
move them all?” He sagged a little. “I had hoped…”

“Yes, everyone.”

Adam whirled, fists gripping the phone. “Minerva, this is a commercial concern. It’s not as if it’s just for show. My vampires are here because they are mine. Not to mention the fact that we provide a sanctuary for rescued exotic game. I’d planned to leave my human day manager on site to keep things in shape, to keep an eye on the place, maybe even hire some temporary human staff to take care of the exotic livestock. I suppose I’d assumed that the language meant everyone of supernatural blood.”

“I see no problem with you arranging for humans
not sworn to you to care for the animals, but otherwise, I don’t think Faery tradition bothers to take into account our modern ways.” The answering tone was as dry as the outside air. Gigi didn’t need to state the
No shit, Sherlock
that automatically loaded itself into my brain—a childish retort that I’d once learned to use to perfection in junior high. I hadn’t even thought of the livestock; they paled in importance to my own family. My instinct was to keep
us
safe, keep
us
from harm. The livestock would surely be fine in our absence.

“Damnation.” Adam held my gaze, then Tucker’s, then deliberately punched in the code to mute the phone’s speaker. Before he could say anything, I spoke.

“Adam, when we first met up again,” I said gently, “just last year, you told me you’d bought this ranch for me. To be close to me. To be able to be near me and woo me. You reiterated that fact again tonight. Is that still true?” Yeah, well, okay, there was still a small part of me that was insecure, even after our blood-bonding. He’d said a lot of things then, a great many things… like the fact that he was vampire—something that he’d been able to effectively hide from me for more than eight years when we were both residents of the UK. But he’d not told me of the other part of the story. That he was not only a Nightwalker, but also Unseelie Sidhe and the heir to the throne. That gem hadn’t been revealed until we’d gotten ourselves into a pickle in Vancouver, just after I’d Changed and learned I was the Kelly heir. So, sue me if I thought that there still might be something not yet said.

“I did, and it was,” Adam replied, truth evident in his gaze. “I’ve never lied—”

I laughed, short, bitter and oh so angry. Not at him, really. It wasn’t his fault that the fucking fickle fingers of Lady Fate had been messing about in our particular bloody pie. Adam had been as ignorant of the Machiavellian machinations of Minerva Kelly as I had been. Neither of us had known then that my former lover, Gideon Kelly, was in fact, half Sidhe, like myself, only from Adam’s side of that fence… and Adam’s half-brother. Now, all this ridiculous political and genetic manipulation was coming back to bite the Kellys in the proverbial ass. And I was the ass it was biting… hard. “Truth,” I snorted. “Such a slippery concept with the Sidhe, is it not?”

He flinched, a slight grimace crossing his face. I waved a dismissive hand at him. “No, not you, love,” I said. “Never you. You did what you had to, to try to keep things in place until it was the right time. It’s my bloody cousin’s fault, this is. I’m afraid he got way too much of Gigi’s ambition and drive and not enough of her practical sense.”

“That’s more than evident.” Adam set the phone on the desk and walked toward me. “I am beyond glad that despite everything, we still found each other.”

I had to smile at him. From the look on his face, I could tell he still held some insecurity, too. Sure, we’d blood-bonded just a few hours ago, or was it only minutes? I had no real idea of the time. The entire night so far had passed in a ridiculous tornado of insanity… kind of like my life for the past, oh, eight months or so. But hey, who was counting? Oh yeah, I was. All I could think about right now was that I wanted to leave with Adam, go back to his house and lock ourselves away for at least a week. No phones. No email. No
interruptions. In fact, that had been the plan. After the formal foofaraw was over, we were going to stay home and shut out the world for a bit. Let other people run the ranch while we just existed. Only, whatever god or goddess of luck I’d pissed off somewhere down the line had other ideas.

“The fox changes his fur but not his habits.”

—Proverb

A
fter a moment, Adam nodded and thumbed the phone back to normal operation. “Our thanks, Minerva,” Adam said. “We will evacuate tonight.”

“Your vampires?”

“Will go to my estate in Wiltshire. I have a pilot on his way now. Niko’s made the arrangement.”

“They could come to me instead. It’s far closer.”

“An offer quite appreciated, Minerva,” Adam said. “Though sending them to the Kelly enclave sounds logical, there’s a part of me that wishes them to be gone entirely from this continent. It is not their fight.”

“Nor is it,” Gigi agreed. “You must do what you think best, Adam. Though, your plane can’t get to your estate until well past morning.”

“Understood,” Adam said. “I’d planned for them to make a stop in Dallas. They can be there by dawn. I have someone there who can house everyone safely until nightfall.”

“If I remember correctly, your plane seats only a dozen or so.”

“True. However, my hired pilot has a larger plane we can use.”

“Pish-tosh.” I could imagine Gigi’s well-coiffed head shaking. “There is no need to involve others. I’ve a plane that will suit. It can transport everyone in safety directly from the ranch airstrip.” For a moment, I wondered how she knew our airstrip could support a larger plane, then I remembered. She was the one who had the bloody thing built. No doubt it could handle the entire Kelly fleet—including, evidently, a vampire-ready jet.

“The plane has blackout windows?” I asked.

“Yes, and will be freshly stocked with blood. Seats up to eighty-five. The plane will be there in three hours. Have them ready.”

“Thank you, Minerva,” Adam said. “This will be extremely helpful.”

“Gather your vampires. Have Ianto, Rhys, and Liz go with them.”

“But—” I began to protest, but Gigi cut me off.

“No, child, I know they’ve blood-bonded to you, but you need to be lean and agile now. They will best serve you guarding the rest of your people. The four of you will have more than enough to worry about. Let them help where they’re needed most.”

I couldn’t argue, even though I wanted them here. They were mine, damn it. But she was right. As much as I could use the support, tying Rhys, Ianto, and Liz here would accomplish what exactly? Waiting and pondering in some lakeside condo somewhere? They’d be just as reachable via phone if they were in the UK. Hell, for that matter, we could set up several computers
with Skype and do video conferencing if we needed to. “Gigi, what else can you tell us about the Challenge? What do we need to do?”

Dead silence for a moment stretched into more, then finally, “I wish I knew, Keira,” she said. I heard something in her voice that I’d never heard before—defeat. She’d no more been able to interpret the rest of the Challenge than we had. “You already know much of the basic information. The Challenge seems to suggest that you need to tie the land to you. There are many ways to do this in lore. You’ve already established residence. You’ve given blood and sweat and tears. You’ve consummated your joining and have pledged to care for your people. They’ve pledged fealty to you in return. This, however, this puzzles me. The only thing left is true sacrifice. At least, in my own interpretation of such things.”

I did not like the way this was going. Though my knowledge of Faery lore was less than expert, I still knew many of the basic tales and too damned many of them required sacrifice—of an actual person. Yes, oftentimes in modern days, that sacrifice had evolved to something more symbolic, but I’d read that parchment and the language was about as modern as Atlantis—the actual city, not any movie or TV show. “I’m not letting anyone here—”

“Of course not,” Gigi interrupted. “That’s insanity. Gideon may be a fox, but he’s not a lunatic. He knows you’d not go that far. He’s counting on it, more than likely. Though, that said, I doubt he’d be willing to stick his own neck out quite that far. In most Challenges, what is required of one party is required of the other.”

“Then no, you’re right. He’s probably counting on us reneging.” I’d finally clicked into the overall picture. Yeah, well, I was a little slow, mostly because I wasn’t sure why. If Gideon gained the Wild Moon, gained permanent access to our door to Faery, I had absolutely no doubt that his first act would be to banish us. But with him being riven from the Kelly clan and disinherited from the Unseelie, effectively unblooded, I wasn’t sure what him gaining the land would mean. Gods and goddesses, I hated Sidhe politics. It was always like this, hidden, mysterious, double-edged, and triple-tongued. Nothing was straightforward—oh yeah, kind of like my own fucking family. I had accepted my role as Kelly heir, if not gladly, with practicality. I mean, what else could I do?

After we’d learned that Gideon, too, had Changed, had become heir, something that was supposedly impossible, Minerva had granted me, with Adam as my consort, the rule/oversight of the lands in Texas and the Southwest. A trial, of sorts, and a learning experience. She had no plans to abdicate anytime in the near future, which for her, could mean centuries. In the meantime, Adam and I could set up camp, set up our own small fiefdom and learn how to rule without being my great-great-granny. Gideon, spawn of fucking Satan (if that particular construct really existed outside of fiction and bad films) had been relegated to his blood father, Adam’s father, high king of the Unseelie Court. We now knew how well
that
worked out… as in not at all.

“I would not go so far as to presume that taking your land, your rule, is his only intent.” My clan leader’s voice clanged like a warning bell, emphasizing my own fears. Yeah, I was no idiot. I may have once thought
myself in love with Gideon, but events then and events now had proven my instincts right. He was trouble with a capital fuck-me-for-being-so-stupid.