Blood Rebellion (Blood Destiny #7) Read online

Page 4


  "A decree from the Queen, stating that the City Councils take the week endings off from meetings," Flavio said.

  "A Royal Decree," Kyler nodded enthusiastically. I was only now realizing that I'd been cutting into her time with Flavio.

  "Great. What am I supposed to do, wave my arms or something?" I grumbled.

  "That would work for me," Flavio chuckled.

  "You need a royal seal; you don't have one," Gabron offered.

  "One that can balance a ball on his nose," Tony snickered.

  "I'm coming over there," I threw my napkin down and misted toward Tony.

  "Lissy, we can't wrestle in the floor, think of the neighbors," Tony said when I turned up right next to his chair.

  "If the neighbors complain, I can put them in a headlock, too," I tugged on Tony's ear.

  "Lissa, please be more circumspect," Gavin was seated next to Tony and chose to hand out the usual chastisement.

  "Fine. Any other complaints before I leave? No? Good." I misted away.

  * * *

  "Now where the hell did she go?" Karzac demanded, standing and angry in an instant.

  "She is tired. Now isn't a good time to draw attention to what you think of as her shortcomings," Griffin offered.

  "Then there won't be a good time," Drake said. "And it probably wasn't a good idea to do this in front of everybody," he added. "She's good if you tell her with just the Inner Circle, but she gets embarrassed with others around."

  "I should learn to hold my tongue," Gavin muttered.

  "Where's Lissa?" Erland Morphis folded in.

  "Have a seat, Warlock," Griffin pushed an empty chair out with power. Erland sat and someone came to serve him. "We don't know where she went; she left a few seconds ago."

  "Warlock, when you finish eating, we will visit the Dark Elemaiyan planet," Kifirin said. The Dark Lord was halfway through his rack of lamb. Erland was given the update on Lissa and current events while he ate.

  * * *

  I walked through a field on Evensun, the Dark Elemaiyan world. Twilight was falling across the section of the planet where I walked and I wondered why they'd traveled away from it. Stars were beginning to appear over the eastern horizon and they winked and twinkled over my head as I gazed about. I wouldn't have walked away from this place, I don't think. I did a little Looking and there was no construction anywhere. Several thousand years had passed since the Dark Elemaiya had returned. Had they found that gating to other worlds held more appeal than the world they'd stood upon, or did they have the desire to travel so much that staying in one spot was unbearable? It mattered no longer; they were going to live out their days upon Evensun. I wasn't sure they deserved such a beautiful world, but they were getting it, nonetheless.

  "Avilepha, do you think we need to build some sort of shelter for them?" Kifirin had come and was now taking in the planet and what it offered. Everyone else from the dinner table followed Kifirin and they appeared in twos and threes around us.

  "Kifirin, my handsome love, they have had too much handed to them already. Let them worry over their own shelter. Let them fashion their own tools and find their own meals." I shook my head at the thought of providing them with anything other than what we had already.

  "There are a few young among them," Griffin said, wading through the grasses to my side.

  "Are there any that are quarter-blood?"

  "No, those were sent away with the sixteen," Griffin replied. I'd sent sixteen to another world—the handful that hadn't wanted to participate in the Elemaiyan attempt to grab Fox, who was a quarter-blood and the Ka'Mirai.

  "Good. How old is the youngest among the others?"

  "One is seven, another is fourteen and a third is sixteen."

  "What do you suggest, then?"

  "I'd like to speak with them and feel them out before we cast them to the winds with the others."

  "Then we'll go tomorrow," I sighed.

  "I wish you to speak with one other," Griffin said.

  "Who is that?" I asked.

  "You will see. I will come to get you three hours after the sun is up on Kifirin."

  "All right," I agreed.

  "What do you think of this world?" Kifirin asked.

  "I think it's beautiful," I said. "Why did they leave it? I don't understand."

  "The Elemaiya were always afflicted with wanderlust," Kifirin replied. "They were never satisfied with staying in one place." It sounded as if he was withholding information but I didn't press him on the matter.

  "Too bad, that's what they're getting now," I said.

  "Avilepha, I have my doubts that they will ever be self-supporting as a race. They have lived off other races for so long, now. The Ra'Ak, too. They have vague memories of what they were before, but as you have likely discovered, the Copper Ra'Ak only allowed the strongest and most dominant to live. The only one who did not fit that mold was Gilfraith and I have yet to determine how he managed to slip through and become Ra'Ak."

  "I'm glad he did. And I think the answer to your question is love, Kifirin. Gilfraith loved. Both in the past and in the present. All you have to do is watch him around Fox. He would die for her."

  "I think you may be correct, my love." Kifirin put his arms around me and nuzzled my neck.

  "This is very nice, I have never been here before," Connegar folded in and looked around. Reemagar folded in right behind him.

  "Hi, honey," I went to take one of Connegar's hands in both of mine.

  "Do I understand correctly that the ones upon Kifirin will be coming here?" he smiled down at me.

  "Yeah. Seems like a waste, doesn't it?" I asked. The night sky over our heads was such a perfect deep blue and even more stars were winking and glittering now.

  "We will see what they do with it," Connegar replied.

  "If they do not recognize the gift, then I pity them," Reemagar remarked, coming to stand beside us.

  "Me, too," I smiled at him. There seemed to be a sadness in him and I hadn't run into that before with a Larentii.

  Before we left, though, I wanted to place a benediction upon the planet itself. Sort of an apology, if you will, before handing it over to those who would likely curse it instead of appreciating it for what it was—a lovely, unspoiled world. I sang How Can I Keep From Singing while a light breeze rippled the tall grass around my legs and the stars trembled over our heads.

  * * *

  My nights with Roff were so restful—he was content to let me sleep with my head on his shoulder. Someday, though, he was going to be a winged vampire. In the meantime, he loved me and that was good enough.

  Griffin was there, right on time, with Amara, Kyler and Cleo the next morning. Roff and Giff had gotten me up, showered and dressed me and then herded me off to breakfast. Gabron canceled my meetings for the day and then sent out a decree (after I signed it), declaring the two days at the end of every week as off-days for all involved in politics on Le-Ath Veronis.

  Gardevik and two other High Demons came with us, once we arrived at the palace in Veshtul. Yurevik Weth and Dremevik Greth had blades strapped to their backs and were prepared to protect us, although the weapons wouldn't be needed if they went Thifilathi.

  "What do you want?" Those words greeted us as we walked up to the woman. Griffin had folded us to her—she was sitting on a bench outside what had once been a comesuli bakery. My nose told me that the rising bread had soured and insects had invaded the flour and other grains. The woman, however, was beautiful and would be for years to come. One day, age would find her, though, and she would die. If she didn't manage to kill herself with inaction before then. Of course, with the murderous tendencies of the former Ra'Ak, she could always fall by another's hand.

  "We wish to speak with your child," Griffin said.

  "Callan!" The woman shouted. A young boy came running. He looked too frightened to do otherwise. He already appeared malnourished.

  "He is seven years of age?" Griffin asked. I could have answered that for him but hel
d my tongue.

  "I don't recall his exact age," the woman snapped. "It doesn't matter, does it?"

  "Not anymore," I snapped back. The boy and I disappeared.

  "Where are we?" Callan asked, as we landed on another world.

  "On a world called Mendenath," I replied, taking his hand. "Some of your family is here and I'm going to leave you with them," I looked down into his cherubic face. He had his mother's dark hair and green eyes.

  "Will they have food?" Callan asked. He was hungry, I knew.

  "I hope so," I told him. We walked through an open field for a little way until we found a makeshift village. Someone was cooking; I could smell a simple stew boiling as we walked up.

  "Callan?" A woman pushed back the flap of a tent fashioned of animal skins.

  "Aunt Zela?" Callan let go of my hand and ran to her. She pulled him into an embrace.

  "He's hungry," I called out.

  "I know," the boy's aunt replied. "We'll feed him."

  There wasn't any need for me to stay; I knew she'd take care of the boy. I folded back to Kifirin. "Sorry," I apologized. "I took him to his Aunt Zela."

  "She always was soft," the woman snorted.

  "Nothing wrong with that," I said. "We're done here." Griffin folded us to the next spot.

  I knew right away that the fourteen-year-old was as hard as his mother. We didn't stay long. The sixteen-year-old was the same. It happened quickly with these, looked like. We left them. Griffin folded us one last time. We were outside a shop that had once sold pottery. A few items remained—things the comesula proprietor hadn't bothered to take with him. Nobody was sitting out front at this one. Briefly, I wondered what Griffin wanted with this one. The moment she walked out the door and I got a whiff, I knew.

  Kyler was about to go crazy and Cleo looked ill. Amara attempted to comfort both of Griffin's granddaughters. Griffin was angry, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Garde and the two High Demon guards had no idea what was going on. They knew as soon as the woman opened her mouth.

  "Well, Brenten, you brought this on us, didn't you?"

  Chapter 3

  I stared at my grandmother for a second or two before I let her have it. "He didn't have anything to do with this," I spat. "You did well enough, bringing this on yourselves."

  "And who are you?" She dismissed me with a contemptuous blink of her beautiful, gold eyes. Kyler and Cleo had those eyes. It might explain the gold flecks in Griffin's eyes, too.

  "The one who put you here," I answered her question, reining in my temper. One more step and she'd be within range of my claws. That wouldn't do—I had a feeling my father wanted something from her. I hoped it wasn't love or affection—she was incapable of either. She called me an extremely unkind name in the Elemaiyan language. I didn't care. "You will answer all of Daddy's questions honestly, from this point forward," I laid compulsion and put power in it. I'd probably shocked the hell out of Griffin by calling him Daddy, but we needed to close ranks against this one. She blinked at me a time or two as my compulsion settled over her brain.

  "You're his daughter." She said it flatly.

  "Obviously. Daddy, she's all yours." I stepped back and motioned Griffin forward. Garde was at my back, suddenly, his hands on my shoulders while Griffin asked his mother questions.

  "Who is my father?" That was his first question and I wanted to weep. I'd only waited forty-eight years to find out who my father was. Griffin was over a hundred thousand and he still didn't know.

  "You are fortunate that she placed the compulsion." My grandmother hissed, cutting her eyes toward me. "Your father—well, he placed a spell of his own, when I refused to stay with him and refused to bring you back to him. He told me I couldn't tell anyone unless I brought you back. I told him to go fuck himself." She laughed at the memory. "Brenten, your father was Karathian. Wylend Arden was his name. A powerful Warlock he was—more powerful than even I guessed. Not many could place a spell on any of us and have it hold like that," she snorted at the thought.

  "You are only half Elemaiya," Griffin went on, as if the information regarding his father was of no consequence. I knew better—he was rattled but refused to allow his mother to see how she'd upset him. "What happened to your parents?"

  "My Elemaiyan mother died. As did my sorry Traveler father. They kept me away from my people until I was nearly twenty."

  "You killed them—your parents." I gave her a hard look.

  "They kept me away from my people," my grandmother snapped. "They deserved what they got."

  "Do I have any sisters or brothers?" Griffin asked his next question.

  "All are dead except for one half-brother and he may be gone soon," she laughed humorlessly. "I left him at an orphanage on Beliphar more than fifty years ago. Good luck on finding him."

  "You are pathetic," Kyler growled. "I should release your particles."

  "No, sister." Cleo stepped forward and she was shining. What I saw next even I wasn't expecting. Cleo had wings. Beautiful wings that spread about her, their shining whiteness glowing in the morning sun upon Kifirin. Cleo reached out and touched her great-grandmother on the forehead, causing the woman to shriek in agony and then drop, weeping, to the ground.

  "You will now know what you have dealt to others and you will search for the love you denied but it will not come to you. Ask not for pity from those who were once your family. It will not be granted." Cleo's words held Power. I had to Look to see where it came from. Cleo had a direct connection to something on the other side.

  "What's her name?" I almost whispered my question to Griffin.

  "Narissa," Griffin's voice was also soft as he watched his mother weep. We left her there, folded up on the ground and rocking herself.

  I think Kyler took us back to the High Demon palace; I wasn't sure Griffin was able at the moment. He was finally allowing the information his mother had given to sink in, with devastating results. His hands shook and he might have been close to hyperventilating. "Em-pah, what are you going to do?" Kyler and Amara led him to a chair once we were inside a suite at the palace. Garde sent the two High Demon guards away and stayed with us. Griffin shook with shock and I wasn't prepared to console him. I did know what I could do, however.

  "I'm calling Erland," I said, and sent out mindspeech.

  * * *

  "Lissa, my love, dare I hope you've changed your mind?" Erland appeared in seconds after I sent mindspeech. He looked so hopeful as he took my hand and kissed it. The smile he gave me was blinding, too. Most women would have fallen to the floor in an orgasmic faint at that smile.

  "Erland, I haven't, that isn't why I called you," I blew out a breath. Amara was doing what she could for her mate and Cleo and Kyler were both sitting with Griffin. They each held a hand, squeezing it tightly.

  "What has happened?" Erland knew something was up, now.

  "Daddy just found out who his father was from his Elemaiyan mother," I took Erland's arm and led him from the suite with Garde on our heels. When we reached the hall outside, I asked my question. "Have you ever heard of a Karathian Warlock named Wylend Arden?"

  Erland stared at me in shock for seconds. "What's wrong, Erland?" I asked.

  "Fuck me," Erland breathed, his beautiful face displaying shock.

  "Yeah, you keep asking and I keep saying no. Who's Wylend Arden?"

  "Perhaps it is better if I show you." Erland folded me away before Garde could protest.

  * * *

  "Where are we?" We'd landed in an entryway that reminded me of the rotunda at Grey House—the one that held all the sculpture and artwork. Only this one was six times bigger and even more obscenely opulent. The marble tiles were veined in gold and silver. Some of the sculptures were gold or appeared to be gold and depicted humanoids and animals in many poses. Some danced; some played musical instruments or leapt and ran against polished marble walls.

  A uniformed man appeared quickly in the middle of a central, wide doorway. "Lord Morphis, if you and your guest will fo
llow me," he bowed slightly, seeming unsurprised that we'd appeared from nowhere without an invitation. Erland nudged me forward and I walked on feet that had suddenly gone numb. Recognition shone in our greeter's eyes—he knew Erland and knew him well. We followed our guide through a seemingly endless hall. Paintings and priceless treasures hung on walls or rested on ornately carved furniture throughout its length. We reached another doorway eventually and our guide stopped before us, causing Erland to pull me to a halt as well. Erland's arm was around my shoulders and his fingers gripped my upper arm tightly, as if he were afraid I might disappear. I was thinking about it, but the opportunity passed quickly.

  "Lord Erland Morphis," our guide announced in a loud voice. "And guest," he added before moving away. Erland pulled me forward, although I was beginning to have second (and third) thoughts about all this.

  The throne room (that's what it was, I discovered quickly) was magnificent. The value of the tile alone could have fed a Third World country on Earth for several years. Who had wealth such as this? I had no idea. Small knots of men and women stood here and there inside that throne room and they gazed upon us in curiosity as Erland steered me through them, heading toward the throne and the man who sat there. Flanked by two Warlocks in uniform, the man on the throne observed us with guarded interest as we approached.

  When we reached the bottom step leading to the ornate chair and the man who sat upon it, Erland bowed low. He didn't ask me to bow with him, or kneel or curtsy (not that I would have). The man on the throne lifted an eyebrow at me when Erland straightened up from his bow. I already knew from the scent who he was.

  "Explain why your guest does not bow, before I call my guards to imprison her," Wylend Arden asked Erland calmly.

  "Even if she were not who she is, it would be foolish to attempt to imprison her," Erland talked in circles. One of King Wylend's eyebrows lifted higher.

  "You bring me a puzzle to solve?" Wylend seemed quite happy at the prospect.

  "If you wish it, my King," Erland flashed a dazzling smile.