Terra's Victory (Destiny's Trinities Book 7) (17 page)

Beth didn’t leave. Lindal didn’t ask to be taken back, either.

Blake remained at the workbench, almost completely still and silent, his gaze on the vampeen.

When Beth pulled off her coat, because she was too warm to keep it on, she realized that Aria had raised the temperature in the barn, after all. Everyone else was down to shirtsleeves, too.

Each hour, Declan took vital signs and Sera recorded them on an iPad, then they would stand with heads together, discussing the findings.

On the third hour, Beth joined their huddled conference. “Any sign of success?” she asked, trying to keep the hope out of her voice.

Declan was frowning heavily.

“Heart rate has increased dramatically,” Sera said. She glanced at the board. “Body temperature, too.”

“Fever,” Beth said. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Or maybe the vampeen have cyclic body temperature fluctuations, as humans do and this is a phase in a typical cycle,” Declan said. “There’s no diagnostic equipment here, I can’t even get a white blood cell count. Even if I could, the reading would be useless, because I wouldn’t know if the count was normal or not.”

“You can’t make assumptions based on human standards?” Beth asked. “The vampeen start off human.”

“So do vampires. Yet vampires refute every human status quo. They don’t even have a heartbeat most of the time,” Declan pointed out. “So I’m guessing madly. If I still had a medical license, this would have it cancelled. We need fast answers, though.” He shrugged.

Beth was beginning to see the scope of the problem. “So you’re waiting and watching just as we are.”

Declan gave her a hard smile. “There is empirical evidence that something is happening. The vampeen has stopped struggling and the growling has tapered off, which may just mean it is exhausted. However, put together with the rise in body temperature and heart rate, that’s a good sign. If it starts to sweat, I’ll be very happy.”

After that, Beth settled into a pile of hay and tried to rest and relax. This was going to be a long process.

Barely twenty minutes later, they had visitors.

The elves arrived
en masse
, a dozen of them cloaked and hooded, sprouting like sudden weeds among the trinities spread out around the barn.

Beth sat up, her heart leaping.

Sera, who was standing at the workbench with a stethoscope to her ears, froze with her hand hovering over the vampeen. Her eyes widened as the elf closest to her lowered his hood.

Who is it?
Beth asked her silently.

“Kiirian,” Sera said aloud, acknowledging the elf. “My father sent you?”

My father’s brother
, Beth heard in her head.
Another disgrace to the family.

It took Beth a moment to realize Sera was referring to herself and Lindal as the other disgraces. She pushed aside the indignation that wanted to rise inside her. There wasn’t time.

Beth had started to learn how to judge the age of an elf, as they didn’t really show signs of aging the way humans did. However, there were markers that spoke of the passage of time, including an air of wisdom and superiority that seemed to intensify, the older an elf was. Kiirian had none of them, although if he was Sera’s uncle, he would be near the king’s age, which was great.

Kiirian was looking around the barn, frowning. “The stink here is astounding,” he said. “How do you stand it?
Very
aromatic.” His tone was dry.

Beth stared at him, astonished. This was a real elf? One of the royal family, brother to the king?

“You get used to it,” Sera told him.

“Your father thought I might be able to talk you out of this insane coercion you and Lindal are perpetrating.” Kiirian wrinkled his nose. “That’s your father’s description, by the way.”

Lindal moved around the worktable to stand by Sera’s side. “Did he also send guards to help you persuade us?” He nodded toward the motionless, hooded elves.

Beth’s heart squeezed. Lindal’s hand was floating very near the hilt of his knife.

She eased up onto her feet and tried to move closer to the worktable without drawing any attention, one small step at a time. The problem was, the elven guards were scattered throughout the barn, including three of them standing behind Lindal and Sera.

Kiirian glanced around at the silent guards. None of them had lowered their hoods. “I’m not entirely sure if they’re here to take you back, or to make sure I do what I’m supposed to.”

Beth blinked, absorbing that.

Kiirian was looking around the barn again, this time up into the air and at the wood-slat walls. “This is odd. The conditions here are not…right.” He pulled the cloak aside, folding it back over his shoulders. “It’s far too warm and it isn’t that artificial heat the humans learned to generate.”

Beneath the cloak, he wore what Beth would have described as pale white cotton pants and a simple tunic, except that cotton didn’t exist on Lindal’s world. The appearance was the same, though. The garments were rumpled and frayed on the edges.

And he was barefoot.

Is your uncle a…hippy
? Beth asked Sera, hesitating over the description. She wasn’t sure Sera would even understand it.

Kiirian spotted Aria, where she stood straight and tall by the corner of the table. Beth had not seen her move there. Aria had a way of being where she wanted to be without the silly intermediate process of actually moving there. It wasn’t jumping, because there was no apparent effort involved. She just arrived.

Kiirian’s eyes narrowed. “I see….” He turned to face her and bowed low. “Maiden of the air. You have my admiration.”

Aria nodded to him, in a way that seemed to indicate she out-ranked Kiirian, which was ridiculous. Kiirian was a royal prince.

Or was it as ridiculous as Beth thought? Kiirian was behaving like a man in front of a queen, or someone who had met a personal hero.

“There is some stupid-ass family business I must dispense with in order to obey my king,” he told Aria. “Afterward, I would be most honored to speak with you, if you would be so kind as to spare a few small moments?”

Aria nodded again.

Kiirian smiled happily. It was a very human expression. Then he turned back to Lindal and Sera.

“My father is so desperate he pulled you out of your burrow?” Lindal asked him.

“I told him I would not be a good agent,” Kiirian said. “Although I managed to avoid mentioning I was the one who encouraged you to come here in the first place.” He glanced at Aria once more. “I was right. You have access here to wisdom we badly need.”

“You have a message, then?” Lindal asked.

“Not really. Your father wants you to return. You know that already. I was intended to appeal to your…more earthly qualities.”

“You are supposed to be the voice of reason?” Sera asked. She laughed. “My father does not understand you, if he believes that.”

“I think it was more that he wanted to present to you the face of someone you might consider to be a friend and ally.” Kiirian glanced around the barn without moving his head, his eyes rolling dramatically. “The backup is the real message, though.”

Lindal nodded. Now the heel of his hand was sitting on the knife. He just had to curl his fingers around it to withdraw it.

Beth didn’t fully understand the quick exchanges. There was an implied history that she didn’t know. She
did
understand that Lindal felt threatened and that was enough. She stopped trying to sneak around the table. She moved openly, to stand next to Lindal.

Kiirian’s gaze shifted to her. “The one who keeps Lindal’s heart.” He bowed again.

“One of the ones,” Lindal clarified.

Kiirian nodded again. “Shall we finish this?”

“Fine,” Sera said, sounding angry. “Tell my father I said ‘fuck off’. I am not going back.”

Blake smiled. It was the first reaction she had seen from him in hours.

Kiirian didn’t seem upset by her response. “I may have to explain that phrase to him. Very well. Lindal?”

Lindal’s fingers curled around the hilt. “As you say, there is much to keep me here.”

“He wants only for you to take up your inheritance.”

“I don’t want it. Not if it means leaving here.”

Kiirian sighed. “Very well. I have delivered my message—”

He didn’t get the chance to finish. The elves seemed to be triggered by his admission of defeat. There was a uniform reach for swords under their cloaks. Their left arms swept aside the heavy cloak material, clearing the way for their swords to emerge, as they moved toward Lindal and Sera.

Lindal yanked out the knife, his face implacable.

Every cloaked elf disappeared. Beth watched the one she had been intending to attack jerk back as if something had grabbed his hood and hauled. He looked as though he was falling as he disappeared.

Kiirian whirled to face Aria. “Then it is true! You
have
learned mastery of the elements…all of them! This is wonderful! My lady, I have been searching for this fundamental knowledge all my life. And it was here on Earth all along.”

Aria didn’t smile. She didn’t react to the praise at all. She actually looked pissed. “The one who leads you has tried to interrupt the cleansing of this world. He will not succeed should he try again and next time, I will not content myself with merely returning his men to him. Tell him that.”

Kiirian swallowed. All the happiness drained from him. “He did not understand how things are here.”

“His offspring are required here,” Aria said and her voice was chilly. “They are essential to the defense against the unclean ones.”

“I will tell him that,” Kiirian assured her. Then he let out a gusty, startled sound as he was yanked sideways and disappeared.

For a moment, everyone in the barn remained still and silent, absorbing what had just happened.

Declan pushed past Beth. “Let me get at the table, please,” he said. “The hour was three minutes ago.”

His movements seemed to refocus everyone. They stirred and went back to what they had been doing, talking quietly.

Beth turned to Lindal. She put her hand on his arm and wasn’t surprised to feel him trembling. His gaze shifted to her.

“It’s over,” she assured him.

“For now,” Sera said dryly. “We just happened to have a better hand than my father did, this time.”

Lindal sighed. “He’ll never give up. He’s so focused on
his
world and his needs, he can’t lift his head to see the bigger picture.”

Beth wanted to hold him, to tell him it would all be okay, except that Lindal was always awkward about showing any softer emotions in public. Besides, she wasn’t sure she could honestly say everything would be all right, either.

Lindal walked away, his head down, his shoulders stiff with tension. Beth watched him go and tightened her hand into a fist.

“The problem is,” Sera said softly, “my brother has too much honor. He feels a responsibility for the care of our world, because he was raised to understand it was to be his role. Every time my father appeals to him, it just reminds him of that debt.”

“You don’t share that responsibility?” Beth asked, her heart aching.

“I might have once.” Sera grimaced. “It was beaten out of me long before I came here.”

“Sera, look!” Declan exclaimed.

They turned to the table. Declan was holding up the eyelid of the vampeen.

The eye beneath was no longer a glowing red. The red had faded to almost nothing and the eye looked almost human.

Sera bent over to look at it more closely. “The dilation has diminished, too,” she breathed. Her hand knocked against the chin of the child and she looked down, startled. “Did you hear that? It was almost a clatter.”

Declan eased open the lips. The crossed and angled teeth were yellow, more yellow than Beth remembered them being. He prodded at the long animal-like teeth experimentally.

Two of them fell out. They had been close enough together that normal, human teeth could be seen in the gap they left.

Declan straightened up. “Another dose,” he declared. He looked at Beth. “It’s working.”

Beth sucked in a sharp, hot breath, excitement spearing her.

Blake moved up alongside her. It was the first time he had moved in hours. “This changes things.”

“Not for your daughter,” Beth said. “I’m sorry, Blake.”

He shook his head. “I’ve made my peace with that. Emily had to die for us to reach this moment.” He looked at the vampeen. “None of us would be here now if she had lived. This child
will
live, instead. That’s the pay off.”

Beth squeezed his shoulder.

Blake pulled his gaze away from the vampeen, to look at Beth. “You and I should talk. I’ve learned something, standing here and watching her change.”

“
Her
?”

Declan glanced up. “Female, about eight years old. I didn’t tell anyone. It was too depressing to think of her that way, not until we were sure of this.”

“I heard her in my head,” Blake added. “Just as I heard Emily, before she died. And there’s more.”

It was freezing outside. Worse, there was a blizzard building up. Snowflakes were batting against the side of the barn and the sky was so dark with thick, heavy clouds that it felt as if night was setting in, even though it was barely afternoon.

Lindal stood with the snow up around his ankles and shivered. He wouldn’t go inside. Not yet. He needed to find some sort of equilibrium, a way to look at Beth and not panic. There was too much to be done to have a meltdown now.

Except that all he could think of was the fear of being pulled back to his world and never seeing her or Zack again. It had been gnawing at him for weeks and with Kiirian’s arrival, he had finally noticed how deep it had eaten into his core.

He had stopped trying to think of a rational decision the way Zack had urged him to. There was no point. It didn’t matter which way he decided, it would not only hurt people he loved, it would destroy one world or another.

It was an impossible decision. Hobson’s choice, he’d heard it called, here. Instead, he had been playing for time.

His father sending Kiirian here meant that time was running out. His father was going to
force
him to make a choice.