Moira realized she was beginning to follow the thread of Sofia’s story too closely, a mistake that would have left her non-psychic mind vulnerable. Suddenly Sofia broke from her tale to contribute to Moira’s
Sweeney Todd
replay, belting out “Damn that’s Good” along with the song. Sofia gave her a small, understanding smile, never pausing in her nail filing. Moira quickly looked away. Why would Sofia be telling her this? Was she trying to gain Moira’s trust for Fualth’s benefit? She definitely seemed like a disciple back at the farm.
Sofia went right back into the story. “That facade only held up until the children were grown. The youngest of the three, the male, was placed into intense militia training. The oldest female was sent to executive training. The middle female, named Sarafina, they left her in the standard training. The other two envied the one left behind. While the boy was getting his back broken and learning to wire bombs, risking being blown to pieces if he failed, the oldest sister was having tons of information crammed into her head, learning to cower and bow at all the right times, learning how to be seen and not heard. The middle one was tra-la-la-la in the easy stuff.” She blew the filings. “Or so they thought.”
From the corner of her eye, Moira saw Sofia look at her, glance at the pint bottle, then back to her nails. “One day the middle sibling disappeared. The oldest never even noticed, but her brother did. Catching the oldest between buildings, he asked if she was aware of their sister’s whereabouts. Neither of them could find her. They finally learned what happened: Their sister had been sent away to be a breeder. Housed in a small cell in a lead-lined building, whereabouts unknown. She would be forced to give birth over and over until her body finally gave out, just like their mother. This knowledge made the siblings rebel against all they had been taught, about their mother, about each other, about the big monsters, everything.”
Sofia paused, and Moira got the feeling this was something the female had never shared with anyone before. Why now? She was tempted to break her silence and ask. Sofia began speaking again. “The three siblings secretly unified, relearned and strengthened the family bond between them telepathically, suffered together, supported each other, endured together. They cried together when men would come to their breeder sister, raging for her, never allowing her to give up. They learned of the horrors of that place. It wasn’t just girls raised in the nest who were brought in to breed. There were also kidnapped women. The middle girl would lie at night, listening to the tormented captives, listening to the assaults on the other females. She was pregnant when she heard the rescue of one of the newer captives taking place. She begged to the rescuers to save her too. The rescuers swore they would return. Determined, the middle sibling didn’t give up. She sank to her knees swearing an oath of faithfulness and loyalty. One of the rescuers had mercy and granted her an ounce of his precious blood, direct from the vein, something the big monsters never shared. He gave her a blood signature to follow before breaking her cage lock along with the female he’d come to save. They released many females that day. Unfortunately, most of those freed knew nothing else; they ported right back to the nests where they had been raised. They were immediately put back into breeder sites—new locations, same life.”
Sofia blew the dust off her nails again. Were those tears in her eyes? “The middle sibling, however, followed the blood bond of the rescuer. She was saved. She watched the newly freed captive be re-united with her twin sister. Then the rescuer took her somewhere safe. She was cared for. Her Elven son was born in a safe environment. She was given a new life because of that day. Turns out the only reason the breeding site was found was because these twins had not only trusted their bond to keep track of each other, they had also placed locators within their bodies, using technology. How smart is that? Here’s the thing: The two remaining siblings from the nest continued to do what they had always done. The male excelled at militia training. The female became a trusted executive assistant. Secretly, their sister’s oath was honored by all three ever since. Rumor has it one of those siblings is being held at a farm in Italy by the SOSC. The other …” Sofia shrugged, tucking away her file and withdrawing the needle from Moira’s arm.
Standing up, Sofia straightened her slacks and picked up the pint of blood and IV instruments. “Don’t make it so difficult for yourself. Help Mr. Mason access your network. I’m sure he will make it worth your while.” She spoke loudly in a critical tone, treating Moira like an idiot for denying Mason. Moira knew that was a lie now. Now if she just said …
“Tally-ho, Moira,” Sofia tossed back at her while walking out. YES! Sofia could be trusted. She was an SOSC informant. Who’d have thought? Sofia must be the executive assistant sister. Great Fates! Sara … Sarafina. Son of a bitch.
Nathan was five when Napoleon had brought Sara to Moira’s farm. Moira had mentored her in computer structures. Taught her how to work the support groups, how to live off the land and off the grid. Moira had helped her set up in Montana with a society within the Underground Railroad. Sara was adept at finding escaped Hulven and other females in need of aid. Had those females been rescued by Sara’s brother and sister from the inside? Did Napoleon know? Either he did or someone he answers to must. Otherwise Sofia would have never known to tell her “Tally-ho.” That password was changed by the SOSC every thirty days. Was Sofia communicating telepathically with Sara? The brother was at her farm. It must be Sam, the Hulven with the friendly eyes and dimples; he was her brother. Moira would bet her life on it. The earlier threat of frisking had been Sofia’s way of introducing them.
Moira couldn’t have built the network she had if it weren’t for the backing of the SOSC and others like Sara. Napoleon was the only direct contact she allowed between her organization and the Eurasia SOSC. She should have realized that Napoleon would have kept Sara for a contact point. He was a brilliant strategist and a terrific father to Jorie. She had been right to ask him to be Jorie’s sire.
Hard to believe that that week was the catalyst to where she stood right now. Moira and Napoleon had been lovers when she and Marja had been spying for him during the French Revolution. She hadn’t even known that Napoleon was Elven at the time. She didn’t learn that until a week before Napoleon’s coronation as emperor. Marja had gotten hurt, and Moira was detained. Napoleon had offered Marja his blood. He’d known what they were the entire time. He’d allowed them to think they had a secret. Marja had taken the blood offered, not realizing at the time that she had created a bond to Napoleon. The next day Moira and Marja had run.
When she decided she wanted a child, she’d pleaded with Marja to help her contact Napoleon again. Marja refused, over and over. Finally Moira dropped the subject, even though she really wanted a child.
Years later Moira was on the cusp of estrus. Marja came to her, sitting on the edge of Moira’s bed, and they linked their hands together the same way they had done as children. “Do you still want to have a baby with Napoleon?” Marja had asked her, trepidation in her eyes.
Without hesitation Moira had answered, “Yes, more than anything.”
“You realize that once we invite him into our lives again, he will be with us forever, especially if you have his baby.” Marja was scared; that was clear to see. Napoleon had always been a military man. Under the direct orders of Elven Oracles, he had taken on the French Revolution to finally end the human slaughtering of humans. He’d told the girls the day before they ran that their lives were under the direction of the Oracles, whether they wanted to be part of the Elven world or not. Back then The Oracle and the High Ones had overseen Elven code, what little there was of it: Keep Elven existence secret. Don’t kill humans. Don’t take over their free will. That was about it. Feed off them, have sex with them, use them as slave labor, no big deal. They had more interest in policing their Morsdente than dealing with humanity. The only time they would get involved was by directive of the Oracles. The SOSC was still in the formative stages back then. Napoleon was a big advocate of symbiosis. There was little wonder that he would still be involved in Elven politics.
“I don’t want a mate, Marja,” she’d assured her, though she had always felt an odd connection to the handsome Elven. “I want a baby. I know he will be a great father. Napoleon never over stepped any boundaries we placed for him. Never asked us to do something we would be uncomfortable with. Never even came looking for us when we left. He respected our decision to go. He’s a male of honor. He’s who I want to father my child. If he is willing.” There were shots of morphine in the drawer if Marja refused. She would still get through this estrus. The thought of not having the option for a child for another twenty-five or more years brought tears to her eyes.
Marja dropped her chin in her chest, let out a deep sigh, and then nodded. “I’ll call to him.”
Moira hugged her sister with everything she had. “Thank you, thank you.” They’d spent the rest of the night planning for the future. They figured out a way to handle communications with Napoleon. None of those plans came to pass. Her sister was never the same after.
Moira came down the next morning aching, her blood iron elevated from the start of her estrus. “Marja, it’s starting,” she’d announced, entering the kitchen. Marja was sitting at the kitchen table across from Napoleon Bonaparte, who looked as handsome as ever. “You came.” Moira ran into his waiting embrace.
Nodding, he held her against his chest. “I have missed you, cheri.” His voice cracked as the effects of her pheromones already permeated his libido.
Stepping back, Moira looked into Napoleon’s soft brown eyes. “I am going to ask a lot from you. I have always respected you, Napoleon. I love you as a friend.” Napoleon nodded with some sadness in his eyes. He’d told her once long ago that he loved her. Her response had been, “Don’t.” The sentiment hadn’t changed in her at the time, though she’d long since fallen for him, a fact he remained unaware of. “That said, I want you to father a child with me. I think you would make a wonderful father.”
Brushing back and forth across her cheek and lips with his fingers, Napoleon was silent for several minutes. Peering down into her face, his eyes watered up briefly before he blinked the tears away. He answered, “It is a modern world, mon amie. You will make a beautiful mother. It would be a honouer. As long as you agree that I will be in le enfant’s life, toujours, for always. My answer is oui.”
Clapping her hands, Moira exclaimed, “Oh, thank you Napoleon!” She had been so happy.
Napoleon drew her pheromones deep into his lungs. His face flushed with heat and rapture as he swooped Moira into his arms. “This is not a hardship, mon doux. Show me to your bed and do not thank me.”
They hadn’t left her room for ten full days. She hadn’t even considered her sister. Her iron-rich blood kept him strong, and his feeding kept her iron levels down. When they finally emerged, Moira knew there was something horribly wrong. Marja was nowhere to be found, and the cup on the kitchen table was the same one she’d been drinking from the day Moira and Napoleon had gone upstairs.
Marja had never allowed Napoleon to take her blood, so the mentoring bond was one sided. Marja could call to him, but he could never call to her. Why hadn’t she called to him then? After doing a quick search of the grounds, Moira ran to the satellite GPS locator she’d insisted both she and Marja implant. Back then it was state of the art, a technology she had stolen from the US military. Now days you could buy them at any electronics store.
At great risk to himself, Napoleon had tried to port to Marja’s geographic location using only a map. Marja had been housed within lead, blocking him from getting to her and blocking her from calling to him. A bloodmate or a close family bond might allow for telepathic communication, the kind the three siblings shared, but even that was questionable.
Napoleon was able to perform reconnaissance on the compound she was being held at. With the aid of a brigade of SOSC warriors, none of which Moira ever met or thanked, Napoleon was able to plan and execute the raid and rescue Marja. They had also released other females; however, they had not been able to account for many after all the dust was settled. Now she knew why, and it broke her heart all over again. When the brigade returned to the site, it had already been abandoned.
Marja refused to speak about the ordeal, and never spoke of how she had been captured. It wasn’t hard to figure out some of what Marja had endured after Moira realized she wasn’t the only one pregnant. Marja stayed with Moira until after they had both delivered. Jessica and Jorie were only a few months old when Marja told Moira she was leaving. Moira tried to get her to stay. Yelling, crying, begging, pouting. Marja was determined. She felt she needed to tell the family of the female who had been housed in the cage next to hers what had happened to her. The girl was from Mesa. She was human, Heredity bloodline. Her family name was Weedle, and the only living relative she had was a brother named Ben.
Marja found Ben, fell in love with him, married him, and raised Jess. She would port to Moira for a blood exchange every few days. Occasionally she would help a female in need that Moira would send to her. Other than that, she lived a completely human life, happily. Marja had told Ben the truth of what she was, and about his sister, Laura. Moira dedicated herself to finding Laura and others like her.
Chapter Nineteen
Porting into the kitchen of the home she’d lived in since Ellen had taken her in at sixteen, Jess noticed the message light blinking on her answering machine. As she hit play, she felt the ripple of Shane’s arrival. His arms came around her waist from behind.