Blood Legacy Origin of Species (11 page)

She was quite certain he was one of her Kind.

His eyes were locked on her, which was somewhat surprising because she was currently blocking her aura and should not have been visible to him. But if she was surprised, he was absolutely astonished that she could see him. In fact, his look went beyond astonishment into utter disbelief, as if he still was not certain what was occurring. He moved to his left, as if testing her ability to see him, and a look of horror spread onto his features when her eyes followed him.

“Ryan, what’s wrong?”

Susan joined her, and Ryan nodded to the man in the crowd. “Do you see that man?”

Susan glanced in the general direction that Ryan was indicating. “Which one?”

“The one with two heads,” Ryan said, exasperated, “which one do you think I’m talking about?”

Susan looked again in the direction that Ryan was indicating. She didn’t see anything unusual. “I’m afraid I don’t see what man you’re talking about.”

Marilyn sensed Ryan’s consternation and joined them.

“Marilyn,” Ryan said, “do you see that—?”

She stopped. The man was gone.

“Do I see what?’

Ryan’s jaw shut with an audible snap. She quickly canvassed the entire area, including all exit routes, and could not see the man anywhere.

“Are you okay, Ryan?” Susan asked with concern. “If you’re not feeling well…”

Ryan gave one last look around the park, then shook her head vehemently, dismissing the incident. “No, no,” she said, “I’m fine. I just thought I saw something.”

Susan glanced at Marilyn, who was examining the fine features of her companion closely. She seemed minimally satisfied with her assessment.

“Let us continue on, then,” Marilyn said, “we have an appointment for Dr. Ryerson to keep.”

The bouncer at the door evaluated the trio before him. Two barely registered on him, but the red-haired one, now she was luminous. As the gate-keeper to this establishment, it was his responsibility to screen the entrants, ensuring that only the most desirable of his Kind were given entrance. He lifted the velvet rope, allowing the trio to enter.

As they entered the dark hallway leading into the establishment, Ryan expressed her reservations.

“This doesn’t look like a library,” she said doubtfully.

As they entered the dance hall, the booming base resolved itself into crashing music. The entire room was mirrored, adding to the assault of the flashing lights and writhing bodies on the dance floor. The room was full of Young Ones in the throes of joy and blood lust, the latter expressing itself in the contortionist, irrelevantly sexual movements of the participants.

“Oh dear god,” Ryan said.

Marilyn laughed at Ryan’s reaction. She herself was largely unmoved by the spectacle. Once you had seen the debaucheries of the Borgia court or in fact anything associated with Papal Rome, this was quite tame by comparison. And Marilyn knew it was that tameness that stoked Ryan’s disgust, not the debauchery. It was the utter banality of the scene that inspired her irritation. Susan seemed unaware of Ryan’s horrified reaction.

“I don’t see Raphael anywhere.”

“I thought we were going to a library,” Ryan said.

“Not a library,” Susan corrected, “The Library. That’s the name of this club.” She looked at Ryan curiously. “Did you really think we were going to a library?”

“Yes,” Ryan said, “that’s where I met Raphael. I was hunting during the cleansing and I came across him and his companions at an actual library. I spared them,” she said, turning her attention to the debacle in front of her, “this, on the other hand, I completely destroyed.”

“Now, now,” Marilyn said soothingly, “we can return and destroy the place if you wish when Dr. Ryerson is finished.”

“No!” Susan exclaimed, appalled. She was never quite certain when these two were joking.

“Fine, fine,” Marilyn said, “just go find your little friend and we will find a corner to hide in.”

Susan left and Marilyn guided Ryan to a spot at the bar. The two attracted no attention, which was really quite anomalous since they were taller than everyone in the room, moved with an unnatural flowing grace and seemed bound together by some web of sensuality that shut everyone else out. Ryan leaned against the bar and Marilyn leaned against Ryan.

The bartender approached the two. Generally, he could guess someone’s age and the date they had been Changed within a decade. It was a good skill to possess as a bartender. The crowd in this club was decidedly young and of little interest to even those of the middle ground. Every once in a while, someone would come in who was a few centuries old, but there was little to attract such a being to this place.

Oddly, he could not get a fix on either of these two. The dark-haired one glanced at him casually and the fair-haired one ignored him entirely. For some reason he felt the need to please them.

“We have some very fine ‘spirits’ tonight, if you wish.” He extended a wine glass filled with red liquid that Ryan could smell without any need to get closer.

“No thank you,” she said graciously, politely hiding her disdain. When he departed she turned to Marilyn.

“Now where is the fun in that,” she said, “why in heaven would you drink blood from a glass when you could drink from a vein?”

“Hmm,” Marilyn speculated, “perhaps it gives them the opportunity to drink the blood of one more powerful without risking death.”

“I repeat,” Ryan said emphatically, “where is the fun in that?”

Marilyn smiled her agreement as Susan approached with Raphael and a few of his companions. The handsome black man was unaware of their presence.

“Raphael,” Susan said, introducing her friend, “you remember Ryan.”

At that moment, Ryan lifted the perceptual veil she was maintaining, allowing Raphael to see her. His eyes widened and, if possible given his skin color, he blanched. “My lord,” he stuttered, “I mean your majesty…”

To Ryan’s dismay, Raphael went to one knee.

“Oh dear god,” she said under her breath. Like lightning, she grasped him by his collar and with one hand hauled him upward so forcefully that for a second he dangled several inches of the ground. She gently set him on his feet, brushing him off.

“Let’s have none of that,” she said uncomfortably, “we’re trying to present a low profile here.”

“Who is we?” Raphael asked, uncertain.

Marilyn lifted her own perceptual veil and Raphael again began to go to one knee. Ryan anticipated the maneuver and caught him halfway down, hauling him upright once more.

“Low profile,” she reminded him.

Raphael was embarrassed. But to be greeted by both the mother of his line and the ruler of their Kind was overwhelming.

A few of Raphael’s companions were becoming aware of them as well. Ryan thought she recognized one from their previous meeting.

“Courtney, is it not?” Ryan said politely.

Courtney was thunderstruck and could not get a word out, so she simply nodded. Finally her voice returned. “Why can’t anyone see you here?”

“I’m blocking their perception” Ryan said, smiling, “something not so difficult with Young Ones but quite a trick with Old Ones.”

“Oh, I get it,” Courtney said. She waved her hand across her face. “These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.”

Ryan looked at her blankly then turned to Marilyn for assistance, who merely shrugged while Susan hid a smile.

“Why don’t we go find a table?” Susan said to Raphael, leading him away by the elbow while glancing over her shoulder at a grateful Ryan.

“It is a wonder that the Change of ‘Courtney’ was ever consummated,” Marilyn mused.

“Be nice,” Ryan said, also wondering the same thing.

They stood there for a while, but Ryan was clearly restless.

“Why don’t we go for another walk?” Marilyn suggested. She, too, was bored.

“Very well,” Ryan said with relief. “I’ll go tell Susan we’ll be gone for a short time.”

Ryan started across the room, the crowd parting as some invisible force moved through their midst. She was about halfway there when she slowed, then stopped, turning to her right. There in the crowd, standing with his back to the wall, was another very strange man. This one seemed to ooze some sort of secretion as he breathed out of the gill-like structure on the side of his neck, and several teeth protruded from his left cheek as if a second mouth had been randomly placed there. He had an indentation on his forehead in the shape of a brick. He was staring at her with slit-like eyes that widened in shock as she turned and looked directly at him. He, like the previous man she had seen, seemed stunned that she could see him.

Ryan looked around at those near him. No one else seemed aware of his presence, although once again, he was clearly one of her Kind. She glanced back at Marilyn, who had been watching her and was trying to ascertain what had attracted Ryan’s attention. But Marilyn, too, seemed not to see the odd creature. And when Ryan turned back to him, he was gone.

She stood there, uncertainly, then shrugged.

Well, she thought to herself, then stopped.

Susan felt the wave of power wash over her and braced herself. With the exception of Marilyn, she was probably the only one present who understood what was happening and steeled herself for the tidal wave. Those around her were not as fortunate as they staggered at the blow. Susan turned to Ryan in surprise. She had no idea why Ryan would reveal the full extent of her power so casually.

Ryan was standing in the center of the room, completely unveiled to those around her. Reaction ranged from total confusion to sheer terror as the Young Ones sought to understand what was in their midst. Most did not have the senses to even grasp the extent of this One, only that it was beyond anything that they had felt before. Fear and desire were at war and the impulse to move closer canceled that of wanting to flee, so everyone just froze in place.

“Oh no,” Susan said.

The girl was completely bemused. She had no idea who any of these people were, nor any idea of where she was. She could not remember anything about herself and the sensation was unnerving and frustrating, frustration being something she understood but could not recall ever having experienced. She looked around, wondering if one of these people could help her, but language seemed just out of her grasp at the moment. She did not recognize this place

Marilyn appeared behind Susan, startling her companions because no one had seen her move.

“So,” she said, her eyes glued to the girl standing in the center of the room, “which Ryan is this?”

“Her eyes aren’t maroon, thank god,” Susan said, “and she hasn’t collapsed. So I’m guessing that she has lost her memory.”

“Really,” said Marilyn and Susan glanced at her sharply. Marilyn’s tone of voice indicated her fascination with Ryan’s condition was not entirely motivated by concern for Ryan’s well-being.

The Young Ones milled about the startling creature uncertainly, keeping a careful distance. The young woman was strikingly beautiful, tall, lithe, graceful, and they wondered how they could have missed this being they couldn’t take their eyes from. They began to murmur amongst themselves, wondering if this was an “Old One,” and the girl wondered why they were bothering to whisper when she could clearly hear them, although she had no idea what an “Old One” was. A very attractive red-haired woman was approaching, and the girl mused upon the meaning of red for a moment because it was not quite an accurate description but it seemed the appropriate usage.

“Ryan?” Susan said uncertainly.

The girl considered the word, realized that it was a name, but felt no connection to it as her name. She could come up with no other name, however. She examined the red-haired woman quite thoroughly and others in the crowd began to examine Susan as well, wondering what the connection between the two could be. They still could not grasp the very elemental power that stood before them.

They could less grasp when a second staggering power manifested in the room, this time belonging to the ravishing dark-haired beauty who slowly sauntered across the floor. Now there were two Old Ones in their midst, similar yet distinctly different.

The girl was completely confused, but her attention was abruptly drawn to the raven-haired woman. She could not assess the feeling because it had no context; she only knew that there was an instant, magnetic attraction to this one. And because she possessed no cultural cues of subtlety or reservation, her admiration was quite overt. Somehow, the unabashed openness came across as incredibly innocent.

“Oh my,” Marilyn murmured to herself. The last time she had seen such a combination of power and naiveté was when this girl was a child. Victor had stopped her from taking advantage of that situation.

But Victor wasn’t here right now.

“Hello, little one.” Marilyn said.

The girl assessed the greeting. It was odd because she was not little, but the dark-haired woman was one of the only people in the room actually taller than her, so perhaps it was a relative appraisal.

“Hello,” she said uncertainly, trying out the unfamiliar word.

A smile played about Marilyn’s lips. What an extraordinary opportunity. To be allowed a second chance at the seduction of this innocent, this time with no threat of interruption and with a far greater return. Ryan’s power had exponentially increased over time, yet now she was at a greater disadvantage than when she had been an infant in Abigail’s drawing room those centuries ago.