Any Price (28 page)

“For all who listen, I am one who has been called Synth. Genetically, the blood that flows in the Northern Keepers is of the same family as mine. How this came to be is a mystery of genetic engineering. I suspect my ancestors of this but have no proof to give you. Seeking that answer is not as important as protecting the few of our kind we know of. Celina, daughter of another family of Keepers, is in the hands of an enemy. I pledge my life to her rescue.

“I am not some omniscient being as human legend would claim. I cannot wiggle my nose and fix things. Having an understanding of the laws of nature and science allows me to use them effectively to my advantage. That does not make me a god. I request your assistance to complete Celina’s rescue.”

At the close of Synth’s statement, those who were connected could feel Lore withdraw, his attention wholly focused on Kenna. Extreme unease increased as the people felt the royal couple, but only from what seemed an incredible distance, at the same time this new being felt uncomfortably close. His power surged through the connection then he drew it back into himself in a formidable display of control. It was a promise of protection and a warning. There was no mistaking the deadly threat he projected in that moment or the absolute conviction he felt in his mission.

Boris questioned cautiously,
“What proof do we have that this is not a trick by the kidnapper? Celina said she could feel another trying to enter our communication method. One who is not like us. You, my friend, do different in a big way.”

“He is the god we speak of. You have my word,”
Julianna stated calmly into the discussion. There was silence for a moment.

“Will you bet our lives on it, Julianna? Are you willing to bet Celina’s life on it?”
Boris asked.

“Yes. Without question. Boris, you saw him take my blood. What you didn’t see was the knowledge my blood gave him. He does not drink for food.”
Julianna felt Boris’ doubt in her words. He suspected she’d been dazzled by the big male and perhaps put under some sort of compulsion.

Trying to explain it, Julianna continued.
“Many things we lost about our kind, this is big loss. Blood is the most precious bond. Blood is often invoked in human curses from long before anyone knew it was an individual marked. Early humans did this because they witnessed it meant everything to the gods.”

“Okay, so he is the thing you call a god. We are not, Julie,”
Boris argued sharply
. “We live a human lifespan. How do we know he is one of
us
, as opposed to being one of them? If he is so concerned about us and thinks us family, where the hell has he been up to now?
How convenient is it that he shows up now? Just when we need an ultimate fighting guy. I question everything about this. With the fantastic events of the last few days, how can you not mistrust him? If I give him all the information we know, information we have been gathering over hundreds of years, to whom do I give it? If he is our enemy, we will never recover.”

Abruptly Synth appeared in front of Boris. Hands on hips, cocking his head to the side, he gazed at the shorter man. “What can I do to prove I am as I say? As these others have said?” he asked quietly. “Between us, you and I privately, what would you ask?”

Boris frowned darkly. “If I’m like you in some way, how is it that we are so different? Why do we, as a community, have no blood lust? No longevity of life? No superior understanding of the laws you bend to do the Tinker Bell act? Why would I believe any of this is real? Not some illusion?”

“You are comparing me to a tiny mythical creature in a movie?” Synth glared at Boris a second and then he smiled in amusement. “Wary cat, you are a credit to our kind. Lore was correct in the caution that making an enemy in haste is paid for in leisure. All right, let’s try something.” Synth dropped to one knee and held out his wrist. “Take my mark. I offer it freely.”

Boris sucked in a deep breath in surprise. “Doesn’t work like that. I don’t have…” He paused in surprise. “Shit!”

Deep in the castle dungeon surrounded by gray stone, the scene was as old as their surroundings. Though the row of lights down the hallway probably lit it better than medieval torches had, it was still straight out of the past as was the large, obviously dangerous male taking a knight’s knee and offering his pledge.

The creature was dressed in dark brown jeans, a faded tan t-shirt and nondescript boots. His golden-brown hair was brushed back from his face but hung to his shoulders in thick locks. Features that were perfect and harshly cut at the same time concealed his thoughts in their almost immobile set.

Synth raised a brow and remained still, holding out his right wrist as Boris ran his tongue over new points on his eyeteeth.

“What the fuck did you do?” Boris demanded.

“Offered allegiance in the way of our kind,” Synth informed him solemnly while his eyes warmed in humor at watching Boris struggle with the proof of his heritage. “That response is not manipulated by me. Your nature is responding. Not the other way around.”

“Disgusting,” Boris snarled.

“Do it. Take my mark. We don’t have time for your delicate nerves,” Synth prodded impatiently.

“I don’t know how.”

“Yes, you do. Just like you didn’t know those were there.”

“What happens if I do this?”

Synth shrugged. “I’ve never offered before. We’ll see.”

Boris’ upper lip curled back in a totally natural hiss of frustration. This was some monumental step. He could feel it but he had no idea why. “Is this sort of gay? I mean, I saw both of you with a woman.”

“Consider this,” Synth explained, all humor leaving his demeanor. “As early as humans have recorded their societies, the blood oath given a leader is the most sacred of pledges. Breaking that oath was punishable by death.

“A blood oath is the irrevocable pledge of allegiance. Lore’s allegiance to Kenna is indeed a life promise. My allegiance to the protection of not only Julianna but our race is also at the cost of my own life. Take my oath, young master of the Southern Keepers. You are the one who will hold my promise of protection to your entire bloodline.”

Boris recoiled as he grasped the significance of what Synth was offering. “You think after the oath is given, somehow you’ll die if you break it?”

“I am certain this is a pledge only entered in the most powerful of alliances.”

Boris considered for a second longer then quickly grasping the thick wrist, his head slashed down and sharp points gouged down to the exposed vein. Drawing blood required no real thought. It was a reaction like swallowing.

Boris frowned as he straightened from Synth’s wrist. They both were silent a moment. Synth slowly stood, watching Boris closely.

Boris turned and took two steps then had to stop and put a hand to the wall as he staggered slightly. Breathing deeply in a harsh pant, his head dropped for a moment as the other hand clutched his abdomen.

The burst of knowledge burning into his brain was painful. Synth’s blood did not give him a life history. It gave him a piece of the creature it came from. Boris had no words to explain, even to himself, and no defenses to handle how large this being was. There was so much life, such density of being, existing and most of it painful. The rush of confusion began to subside as Boris assimilated this new method of gathering information. Again an instinctual knowledge Synth had called out in him by knowing it was there. Boris was getting tired of that even as he utilized new skills to extract information.

In the end, there was no concrete knowledge. What he did have was the ability to read Synth’s motives as the huge being stood behind him. It was having a constant and unrelenting lie detector device. Not exactly that, more but that was as close as he could come to an explanation. He could feel Synth.

His back to Synth, Boris’ head came up. “All right, you made your damn point. What now?”

“I get the benefit of your knowledge,” Synth replied quietly behind him. “Do you need assistance? Are you ill?”

“Right.” Boris opened his mind, sending everything he knew of his ancestor and their studies through the last couple hundred years.

“Thank you, Sir Cat. I must go quickly. Tell me if you are ill. Or would you prefer I gather that information from your mind as well?”

Boris laughed in a harsh cough. “Callin’ me sir in the same breath you threaten to take information again. Aren’t you supposed to be my servant now or something?”

“You have my allegiance should someone threaten your life. Other than that our relationship seems quite fluid,” Synth replied with dark humor as he regarded the complicated creature who was Boris. “The wording used is apparently more important than I realized. Who knew?” Synth shrugged.

Boris grimaced, sucking in air through clenched teeth. “I know you’re enjoying some sort of monster humor. I’m ill but it’s not going to kill me. My reactions to ingesting the sludge you call blood is probably mostly about how disgusting I find the act. Being able to do a thing doesn’t make it natural.”

Synth regarded him steadily then bowed slightly. “I must go. Your knowledge is extremely helpful.”

Then he was gone. Yet now Boris could feel him in a whole new way so he continued mentally.
“I still want answers to those questions, Tinker Bell.”

“I’m aware you’re a curious cat. What I am is not as important as who has Celina and what the fate of our people will be if she is not rescued. The One with you might have a more complete understanding of what we are than I do currently.”

“Great. You’re a lot of help. This doesn’t make me feel better about trusting you,”
Boris snapped as he headed up the castle steps.

“As I said, opinions vary. Deal with it. Ask the One with you what you need to know. Don’t expect the answers to be a comfort. Real truth rarely is.”

“
This isn’t working fast enough!”
Lore barked into the conversation between Boris and Synth. The blood drip from his vein into Kenna was working, but the transfer was much slower than his ability to ingest her contaminated blood. He was helping, but not enough. He could feel the poison moving through her.

“Slow her heart,”
Synth replied calmly.

“Right. How the fuck do I do that?”
Panic was clawing at the edges of Lore’s control. He didn’t have time for it.

“Just do it,”
Synth snapped.
“Take control of your woman. I suspected you needed instruction on this subject.”

Lore ignored Synth’s monumental misconception about the strong-minded creature that was Kenna. If he’d had time, he’d have been amused. But there could be nothing else in this moment. Saving the precious gift that was Kenna was all that could matter. All there was left to his life. If this task could not be done there would be no other.

“Have you done this?”
he demanded of Synth.

“On a human, once. The brainstem is the center of the automatic nervous function. Start there.”

Plunging deep into her quiet brain, Lore carefully isolated the portion that controlled automatic functions. Going on hesitant instinct, he cautiously attempted to slow functions. It worked but he now had to focus on making sure she breathed enough to get air to vital organs while also taking small sips of blood, trying not to take too much and leave her without enough blood to pump through her body. The delicate balance while fighting for her life consumed him.

Placing his trust in the others for protection was not just difficult, it was imperative. Lore surrendered it and lost track of time as both he and Kenna battled the demon in her body. He was only dimly aware of others moving around them. Barely checking their signatures as he focused on the flickering life in his arms. At some point he was aware of Julianna putting liquid to his lips and encouraging him to drink. He let her, but that was the extent of the interruption he’d tolerate.

“Fight with me, baby,”
he repeated in ironclad command.
“You must fight.”
Into her mind he repeated the demand with all the power at his disposal, gripping her life force with his massive will, refusing to lose her as his spirit wrapped around hers. There were no other options for them. He submerged himself in her so deeply that they became one in ways he didn’t have time to consider.

He became aware he could feel the progress of the poison. It was trying to paralyze vital organs but the infusions of his antibodies into her bloodstream were fighting it hard. Painfully slow though the exchange was, it was keeping her alive. Just barely.

Abruptly the poison began moving in patterns that made it an even more sinister. It wound through her as if a force directed it. Leaving less vital organs, it appeared to be dividing its efforts in two directions, attacking her heart and reproductive organs.

Immediately Lore knew he could direct the life-saving antibodies. Anything the dark bastard could do in her, he could do faster with her unconscious consent. The problem was, the full dose of poison was in her. He was struggling to inject her with enough of him to do the job. He had to make a choice.

Fire laced through his soul as he accepted the responsibility to choose which of her body functions he could save and which he couldn’t. He had no time to debate it, explore the implications. Either she would live, or he had to let her die with their unborn children.

They hadn’t discussed children. Would she wish she had died? Would she ever understand that choosing her life was his only option? Could he be enough for her?

If they lived through this, she would be in his mind. There was no possibility he could hide that he’d known he was making this choice. Lore grimly pushed past his doubts and fears. She couldn’t afford them. His choice was life, Kenna’s life. She had to live. He’d give up a lot more to ensure that. If only it were his sacrifice to make.

After that critical choice was made there was still a long battle.

Lore knew the moment fragile innocence ceased to be in her womb. The death of the child he hadn’t known was there taught him how to isolate that knowledge, showed him that what he’d known about pain in the past was nothing. Nothing compared to this. The life had only been a bundle of cells. So small, defenseless, dependent on its parents to protect it. He’d betrayed that trust.

In the darkest hours when no one was sure either of them would emerge from the silent battle for life, Boris contacted Synth.

“
What happens if they die? Do the rest of us return to what we were?”
His question was direct and urgent.

“I don’t know, but have you ever heard of evolution reversing itself?”
Synth responded absently, obviously concentrating on something else.

“Could you be a little helpful, Tinker Bell? And what have you got so far? Celina is moving away fast. Are you?”

“I know she is. We have to go.

“About what happens next…we are not repeating any history I know of. This is new ground. Nature is always in motion, evolving or regressing. I’ve never witnessed the tipping point when a living entity goes from evolving to regressing. I suspect it does not occur when the evolving part is happening at an aggressive rate. You are not exactly what I am. The human element in your DNA gives you an evolutionary path that is unique. Humans have been evolving at an aggressive rate for some time and Keepers are currently doing so in great leaps.”

“What the hell do you know for sure?”
Boris snapped in irritation at the obscure answer he was coming to realize was Synth’s habit.
“How did anyone mistake you for a god?”

“I know that if they die, there is no replacement for the power lost. The Keepers’ future would be very difficult indeed,”
Synth responded with forced patience. “
Your Asp has a powerful follower among you. He was able to ensure the departure of a private jet with no interference. I can move swiftly but I can’t outdistance a plane. I have secured a jet but at this distance and speed I cannot track your sister like you can. I need your assistance.”

“I’ll be right there. Who is the traitor? Do you have a name?”
Boris was already moving, sprinting out of the castle to his car.

“No,”
Synth responded
“Warn Lore’s second-in-command that they must be careful. Appearances are always deceiving. Do not disclose our means of following the Asp.”

Boris relayed the information to Yuri as he left the castle, also informing him that he would be gone for a while.

“You have proof of this?”
Yuri demanded in harsh tones. He wasn’t questioning Boris or questioning his leaving. He’d been expecting it. Yuri was relieved to have a clear target to go after. Yet there still had to be physical evidence.

“No. The information comes from our new Tinker Bell,”
Boris supplied.

Then to Synth.
“Why am I telling them? You’re the guy with the information.”

“I’m being a good servant, Sir Cat,”
Synth replied. The dark humor in his use of that title was clear.

Boris felt Synth’s reluctance to communicate with the many. There was no clear reason Boris could pinpoint, but it was obvious Synth was using the new bond between them as a shield in some cases. Taking the huge being’s blood had connected them in ways Boris suspected he would not always enjoy. Boris let it go as he parked at the airport and followed his connection to Synth. Instructions were not needed. He knew exactly where Synth was, which private jet to board.

They didn’t take a human pilot. Synth sat at the controls and handled the jet with casual familiarity.

Boris strapped in the co-pilot’s seat and frowned at Synth. “So you’re a real pilot, right?”

Synth let a muscle tick in his cheek. It wasn’t a smile but it could have been if more of his face had cooperated. “Naw. Flying looked like fun. Thought I’d try it today.”

“Bastard,” Boris muttered as they taxied onto the runway.

Synth revved the engine for takeoff. “Seriously, who do you think invented planes? Some human who’d die the first time it crashed?”

“There were these two guys named Wright. Heard of them?” Boris asked as the plane gathered speed.

“Yeah, they were brothers, I believe,” Synth answered casually.

After they were in the air and Synth glanced at Boris. “Which way?”

“East. We’re going to London,” Boris supplied.

“You’re sure?”

“Celina is not as unconscious as her captors think. She can hear them talk.” Boris scowled as he concentrated.

Synth nodded. “I suspected her powers were greater.”

* * * * *

It was the late evening when Lore finally pulled out the needle and collapsed beside Kenna’s sleeping form. There were deep lines etched in his face. In the hours he bent over her, those watching were powerless to assist as Lore changed before their eyes. His skin darkened, going from northern European fair to the swarthy hue of a Greek sailor. And he appeared larger. Even lying down he was dark, intimidating.

Julianna and Yuri sat beside the bed. There was nothing they could do. No assistance anyone knew to give. The medical people had been here but Lore had not let them near the couple.

His rejection had been swift and nearly deadly. As the doctor had put a hand on Kenna to draw blood, he’d been flung back. There’d been no physical movement from the couple when suddenly the doctor was flying through the air and slamming into the wall. Everyone froze. The message was clear. Touching Kenna without Lore’s permission was forbidden. Into their minds, Lore’s voice ordered them to leave. He withdrew immediately and they quietly left.

Now, hours later, only Julianna and Yuri remained. Lore could feel them. Feel the weight of their distress as they tried to remain calm. Both of them were actively working at keeping the community calm as they assured the collective that the One and the first daughter lived.

Lore didn’t move or open his eyes as he lay feeling the swirling emotional turmoil. He accepted that again his abilities had increased. Bitter frustration washed through him as he noted the changes. Abilities he had no idea how to use. It was the equivalent of giving a toddler a F16—a useless armament without the correct instructions. In this case, fucking late as well as useless. Was he now capable of saving everything they had just lost? It was a pointless question but still it sliced across his soul.

Kenna was deeply asleep. She wasn’t cut off from him but she was unaware of him.

Pain. It surrounded him. There was no escape, no relief. The conflict was upon them and they’d paid a terrible price. Surviving was a hell of a long way from winning in any battle. Right now the royal couple were the key to Keepers having a chance at freedom. If they’d both succumbed to the poison, the Keepers would have had little hope of escaping this enemy or the world at large.

It had been a close thing. In those moments when he’d faced the price of living, Lore had almost chosen to go with Kenna and the children they would never have.

The first casualties of this war were their babies. This was the price for survival as a species. There would be no graves, no monuments, no memorials. Would Kenna forgive him? Could he?

No, there would be no forgiveness for him. His betrayal of that tiny life was a weight that could not be lifted. That life had been the sacrifice to buy Kenna’s survival, a fact that did not diminish the enormity of the loss.

She would know as soon as she woke. He couldn’t hide it from her or spare her this pain because it was his pain. Being joined as the One, there was no shielding her from his sorrow. The only way to do that would be to erase the meaning from his heart. If he could do that, it would hurt her more. She would be alone mourning their children and he would not leave her like that.

Oh God. How would he live with it?

“Are you well, little brother?”
A deep voice rumbled across the connection Synth had established with Lore.

“We live,”
Lore stated harshly.

“We, those of our kind, are in your debt,”
Synth responded calmly.
“Your sacrifice is greater than your own life.”

“You knew?”

“I suspected,”
Synth acknowledged.

“You said nothing,”
Lore accused.

“What was there to say? A warning would have done nothing but distract you from the task of saving her. Your choice to live had to be your own. None could ask it of you.”

“Can you fix it? You healed her once. Do it again!”
Lore demanded.

“This is beyond my power. I have some ability to mend what has been broken, but we are truly not gods. We cannot create life where tissue death has occurred.”

“What the hell is all this power for? What is its purpose? What are we? Weapons? Are we only capable of destruction?”
Lore was yelling his questions as he rebelled at the denial he’d already known in his heart.