Tentyrian Legacy (50 page)

When I took her on her first hunt in
Athens—which she handled flawlessly, as her prey survived the
encounter without incident and memory—she was despondent with her
performance. And when Ryan took her to the shooting range, she
refused to leave until she shot an entire group into the red
bull’s-eye. She is constantly pushing herself, saying that she
needs to be better and stronger for the Brotherhood. She insists on
attending every meeting and training just as hard as the rest of
us. It’s amazing, considering it wasn’t long ago when Ari was doing
everything in her power to get away from us. Now she has embraced
the Brotherhood and her role as one of our leaders. And every
single Brother adores her, especially Ryan and Aristos. I’m
certainly no exception.

Laura isn’t yet ready for visitors, but we’re
hopeful she will come through this difficult period soon . . . once
her thirst is under control. But Laura is safe with Aristos, who as
her maker is able to help manage her mood swings and violent
behavior. Fortunately, Laura was able to tell Aristos about
Stavros’ connection to Senator Cromwell, which we are currently
handling. She also told Aristos to retrieve Ari’s birthday present
from her apartment. She insisted it must be given to Ari since
Laura couldn’t celebrate with her.

It was during a birthday celebration we threw
for her on the island, as she was sifting through the tissue paper
to reveal a pair of pink heels, that Ari confessed she knew already
what was in the box. She then detailed her visions and explained
that she suspected she was like Hathor. We were thrilled; however,
she’s been uneasy ever since, as it is a power she has yet to
harness. The good news is that we have time. And that time has been
a precious gift.

These past couple months have been
wonderful—and that’s not a word I toss around lightly. I now know
Ari as a person, from her competitive spirit to her underlying
sensitivity to those around her. In turn, my own controlling
attitude has been softened. I no longer feel the urge to manage
her. Instead, I just want to be with her . . . and as more than
just friends. While we’ve eased into a genuine friendship, the
sexual chemistry is still there. In fact, it only becomes
exacerbated with every passing day. A brush of a hand here, a
lingering gaze there. But I’ve tried my hardest to prevent it by
treating her just as a friend. The words may be unspoken, but I
still want her. And that is the crux of the problem.

Duty is our obligation now. I had told Ari
that what we did on that magical night was a mistake. Surely she
understands now what I meant by that? But I don’t have the heart to
bring it up and rehash what’s likely to get us nowhere. What would
I say? What would I do? So my answer is: nothing. I want to ask
Aristos and Evander for advice, but how can I explain to them that
I’m willing to put love and a woman before our duty? Not to mention
Aristos is her grandfather a hundred times removed.

But the temptation is torturous. Just last
night while we were playing backgammon and enjoying a crisp pinot
grigio that tasted faintly of peaches, she won every single game in
a row. In short, she smoked me between jokes and a pleasant banter
laced with wit. I almost threw the game to the floor and pulled her
to me in a passionate embrace, I was so turned on. The fantasy I
envisioned of her lips and body against me while the game pieces
fell to the floor—all because she dominated me with a board
game—was too much. I excused myself and went to bed early, where I
tossed and turned all night.

Fortunately, today is a new day—although it’s
unlikely I’ll get any closer to coming to terms with my feelings
for her. We’ll be spending the entire day together, and when we’re
together, my ability to articulate a rational thought about my
feelings seems to disappear. I promised Ari that I’d take her to
visit a friend of Raad’s who is currently in possession of an old
book of his.

Since everything happened, Ari has agreed to
put her apartment on the market as well as Raad’s house, which he
left to her with all of his assets. The police found some of his
bloodstained clothes at the New Jersey lab facility, and Raad was
declared dead. Picking up the book is one of those final loose ends
that Ari wants to tie up. I don’t blame her. Since we’ll be in the
area, we are also going to attend the award dinner for the American
Dream Realized housing project tonight at the St. Regis in New York
City.

At first, I automatically told Robert,
Satish, and Samson to attend in my stead as the managing partners
of Leo. But after Ari started to drop hints about getting off the
island for a breath of fresh air and a break from the endless
strategy sessions and training, I realized she was right. We need a
break. It would be a good change of pace and would also generate
some positive PR for the firm. Tonight, I plan to introduce Ari to
the prominent donors and, most importantly, the new families
receiving the homes that were just completed over the summer. If
there is anyone I want to share this night with, it’s her.

2010 AD, September

New York City, New York / New Haven,
Connecticut

When we were checking into the hotel, I was
practically holding my breath, waiting to see if Maximos had booked
us one room or two. I knew deep down it would be two of

course, but some part of me hoped it wasn’t.
The past couple of months have gone by in a whirlwind since the
drama with the Dark Coven subsided. And while I’ve been focused on
my new role and duties with so much to learn—Maximos is always on
my mind. He’s on my mind when we run together in the mornings, when
we hunt, and even when I’m by myself sleepless in bed. Nights are
the worst.

I’ve been waiting for him to say something—to
tell me how he feels. Instead, he says nothing while we continue to
be caught in an awkward limbo of sexual tension. The next logical
conclusion would be for me to tell him how I feel . . . but how can
I? Last time I was ready to give myself to him and throw caution to
the wind, he said he regretted what had occurred between us. I have
no desire to go through that again. And if he wanted to be with me,
he would say something, right? Maybe he just wants to be friends? I
wish Laura was well enough for me to talk to her. I really need
some advice.

If Maximos has been anything, it’s kind and
patient. He’s helped me work on my powers and is constantly
ensuring I have everything I could ever want. He even offered to
build me a separate wing at the villa, which of course I declined.
For now, I’m comfortable staying in my guest room. What was truly
special, though, was when he threw me a birthday party on Ambrosine
with all of the Brothers attending. It was a beautiful night; we
ate roasted pig and drank red wine under the stars. The Brothers
sang “Happy Birthday” to me in Greek, and Maximos gave me a new
zodiac necklace. For once, it felt like I had a family beyond Raad
and Laura. Maximos is so thoughtful . . . I can’t believe I used to
think he was arrogant. Unfortunately, his thoughtfulness never
translates into anything more.

But I could swear last night, while we were
playing backgammon, he wanted to kiss me. The air was practically
crackling with our energy. Then he abruptly got up and left. We had
an amazing time and rather than growing angry at losing like
Charles used to, he seemed genuinely entertained. That’s why I was
so surprised when he practically ran away.

We make a great pair, constantly challenging
and supporting each other, and I don’t think the Brothers would
resent our relationship . . . if we had one. As I’ve gotten to know
the Brotherhood, they are all great guys. And they have the utmost
respect for Maximos and even me. I can only conclude that right
now, it’s Maximos who doesn’t want to be with me.

There is a knock on the door of my hotel
room. It’s him. I can smell the minty scent that is distinctly him
through the walls separating us. I give myself a quick glance in
the mirror to make sure I’m not a mess. I apply another coat of lip
gloss and smooth my hair behind my ears. It’s now fall in the City,
my favorite season. I’m wearing skinny jeans, brown leather riding
boots, and a cranberry-colored velvet blazer over a simple white
V-neck shirt. My hair is down and free. After a hunt once, Maximos
remarked how pretty it was when I wore it down. I had been
complaining how it was getting in my way. Ever since, I’ve worn it
loose as much as possible. If only he would run his hands through
it and tell me that he wants me.

I suggested we get off the island for a
bit—for that reason. Maybe without the pressures of the Brotherhood
around us he would feel . . . less bound to duty? And if there is
any chance he wants to be with me he might say it? Ugh—I sound
pathetic, and I hate that. I don’t know what I hope to accomplish
today; but since I need to pick up Raad’s book, I figured I might
as well ask Maximos to join me. When he suggested we attend the ADR
benefit, I jumped at the opportunity. For the event, I even made a
quick stop at the Carolina Herrera boutique, made all that much
easier with my shifting ability.

I open the door, and there he is. I still
haven’t gotten used to the sight of him. Every time is like the
first, and my stomach does a little flip. Today he is wearing
jeans, brown leather driving shoes, and a camel-colored cashmere
sweater. His jaw is clean shaven, and his black hair is slightly
tousled. Now that we’ve spent more time together out amongst the
human population, it’s been impossible to miss the women who
practically swoon at his feet. Granted he isn’t wearing a ring, but
when I’m with him you’d think most women might assume I was his
girlfriend and keep their flirtation in check. Not at all. My
presence does little to stop their all-too-friendly hands and
cloying attention. If I didn’t respect the Code and human life as
much as I do, I’d rip their throats out.

“Are you ready, Ari?” he asks. I’ve noticed
that since he rescued me from the Dark Coven, he’s dropped the
Greek endearments. Instead he only calls me by my name.

“Yep. Since I know exactly where to go, I’ll
shift us there,” I say with a smile.

“As you command. Ready when you are,” he
responds with his hands outstretched.

I clasp his hands in mine, and I can feel my
blood pump harder in response. Our chemistry is undeniable. I close
my eyes and focus my energy on picturing the Beinecke Rare Book and
Manuscript Library at Yale University. Within minutes of the cool
air prickling over our skin, I shift us into the stacks where I
spent much of my time as an undergrad. It’s a great
location—notorious for being deserted, and it’s near Professor
Sorrell’s office.

As we walk down the library corridor, Maximos
asks me what I expect to find in the book. I’m not exactly sure,
but when I remembered it a few days earlier I couldn’t believe I
had forgotten about it. Ever since, I’ve felt the need to retrieve
it. Maybe it’s because I don’t like the idea of having an heirloom
of Raad’s floating out in the universe, God rest his soul. It just
feels wrong. Or maybe it’s something more? When I called Professor
Sorrell to tell him about Raad’s death, he said that he’d seen it
on the news. After sharing his condolences, he confirmed he still
had the book, which he told me was more like a journal. I eagerly
asked him to elaborate on the phone, but he had another meeting to
get to. We agreed that when I came in person he’d tell me more. The
anticipation has been nagging at me since.

When we reach Sorrell’s door, I give it a
light knock and hear a raspy “come in” in response. When I open it,
I’m immediately struck by how much older Sorrell looks than when I
last saw him. His beard is now completely snow white, and he is
more hunched over than ever. The decades he’s spent reading have
taken their toll. I still don’t think I’ve come to terms with the
fact that I won’t ever look a day older than twenty-five. Spending
time with beautiful men who all appear to be in their mid-twenties
is somewhat of a surreal experience, which is only highlighted when
seeing someone like the professor who is in his seventies.

“Arianna, so good to see you,” he says as he
stands up from the desk and nimbly makes his way through the stacks
of books that are clustered in various groupings on the floor.
Undoubtedly they are organized in a system that makes sense to
Sorrell. To everyone else, it looks like he is a disorganized
hoarder of books. Sorrell gives me a hug and kiss on the cheek. His
woolen gray cardigan smells faintly of mothballs.

“I’m so sorry about Raad; he was a good man.
I would have come to the funeral, but I know you said he
specifically requested not to have one,” Sorrell says warmly.

“Yes, he was the best of men. But you know
Raad. He thought funerals were too depressing,” I reply.

“Well I can’t say I disagree. And who is this
gentlemen you’ve brought?” asks the professor as he pushes his
thick horn-rimmed glasses further up the bridge of his nose and
gives Maximos an assessing stare.

“This is my friend Maximos.” Maximos extends
a friendly hand to the professor, whom he practically dwarfs in
size.

“You’re a big fella, aren’t you?” the old man
remarks. “Please, both of you take a seat while I retrieve that
book of yours.”

The professor walks over to a stack of books
and gently pulls one out as we make ourselves comfortable in two
leather club chairs. Its bindings are in leather, and it’s closed
with a leather strap. The professor then takes a seat back at the
desk, facing Maximos and me.

“Now, I mentioned to you on the phone,
Arianna, that this book was more of a journal. It appears to have
been written by Raad’s ancestor in 1822—I assume his great, great,
great grandfather. Unfortunately, we don’t have Raad or his family
tree to confirm.”