Blood Legacy Origin of Species (3 page)

It was the same for the bed in which she was laying. She knew intuitively it was a bed but she had no memory of how or why she knew this, nor any history of knowledge of any bed but this one. And there was nothing in her mind that made this bed familiar or recognizable in any way. She turned to the bedside table, the lamp, the candles, and had the same sensation. She knew them by name, knew their purpose, but they might as well have been the very first item of their kind to ever exist.

She continued her slow perusal of the room, the paintings, the furniture, the chair at the foot of the bed—and she froze. There was a man sitting in the chair with his eyes closed. She knew he was a man as she knew of the books and the bed, but beyond that could establish no connection with him. She examined him curiously, and again words came to mind that had meaning yet no history. He was incredibly handsome, dark-haired with high cheek bones, a strong jaw and a sensual mouth. Even seated, she could see his elegant athleticism, the broad chest tapering to a narrow waist, one long leg crossed over the other. Although she lacked mooring, she understood these were desirable qualities. She was not surprised that when he opened his eyes, they were dark and beautiful.

Victor felt surprise and joy to see Ryan gazing at him: surprise that he had not sensed her awakening, and joy for the obvious reason that she had awakened. He started to get up, then stopped. She was looking at him with a very strange expression on her face, a look of confusion and slight consternation.

“Ryan?” he asked hesitantly.

The name rippled through her like a small wave, but its force was not enough to move her. It seemed familiar in the same sense as the furniture, but similarly lacked connection or context. The man stood, his concern evident. At that moment, a red-haired woman entered the room, and the girl examined her with the same curiosity and lack of recognition. She, like the man, possessed exceptional physical beauty. Her auburn hair complimented amazing blue-green eyes and fine, delicate features. The girl examined her as openly as she had examined the man, noting the lines and curves of her body.

Susan Ryerson stopped short. “Okay,” she said slowly, “I’ve not seen that look before.”

Victor’s eyes had not left his child. “I think there is something wrong with your patient, Dr. Ryerson,” he said, his uncertainty apparent. There might have been a degree of humor in the situation were the ramifications not so serious.

Susan moved to Ryan’s side. While human, Susan had been a preeminent genetic research doctor specializing in longevity and life-extension. Her life had dramatically changed when she came into contact with Ryan and her Kind, but she had continued her research out of her great love of science. That and the fact that she now had access to the holy grail of her research, Ryan herself. Although Victor had initially had misgivings about Susan continuing her research, it had ended up a boon as both Victor and Ryan had benefited from Susan’s accumulation of knowledge about their unique physiology.

Susan sat down on the edge of the bed. “Are you feeling alright?”

The girl stared at the woman. She understood the question but was not certain how to reply. Not because she did not know how she was feeling, but because it did not seem her mouth could shape the proper words. The language seemed foreign, something the girl could somehow understand but not something she could speak. The sensation was more than frustrating.

There was a commotion at the door, causing the man, the woman, and the girl to look toward the doorway. A very determined boy, perhaps all of three years old, was moving toward the bed with authority and purpose. He pulled himself up onto the mattress with far more grace and strength than he should have possessed and crawled immediately onto the girl. He gazed intently into her eyes.

The girl stared back into the deep blue depths and felt a shock of connection. For the first time since exiting the dream world she had a feeling of solidity. This boy was her son, nearly her identical twin, separated only in appearance by the differences in their ages.

The world came slamming downward upon Ryan. She instantly knew and remembered everything. It rushed back into her consciousness like a tsunami, crushing everything in its path. The knowledge was so complete and sudden it caused her intense physical and mental anguish.

“Ryan!” Victor exclaimed, taking a step toward her as she winced in pain.

This time the name had meaning, context, as did his tone and his expression.

“Father,” Ryan said, almost with relief. She knew exactly who he was, the only question being how she could not have. She turned to the red-haired woman.

“Susan,” she said, “I….” She stopped.

Susan examined her with some concern. “Are you feeling okay, Ryan?”

The question before had seemed foreign, now it seemed incongruous. Of course she was okay. She was immortal, invulnerable, perhaps the most powerful of her Kind.

And right now, a little uncertain.

“I think I’m fine now,” Ryan said. “I just had the strangest sensation on awakening.”

Victor was not willing to let the odd incident pass. “You did not seem to recognize me when you first awoke.”

“I did not,” Ryan admitted, “nor did I recognize you,” she said to Susan. “In fact, I couldn’t remember anything at all.”

Victor considered this admission with great gravity. Perhaps it was just a temporary by-product of the severe mental and physical demands that had been placed upon her. Susan echoed this line of thought.

“Between the tortures you suffered in captivity and then the aftermath,” Susan said, “I’m not surprised if you have some lingering ill effects. Still,” Susan said, suddenly business-like, “I’m going to have to insist on a full physical exam as soon as you’re up and around.”

Ryan turned to Drake, the usual twinkle in her eye appearing. “She’ll come up with any excuse to use me in her research.”

Victor was relieved to see the child he knew returning, her irrepressible humor and charm manifesting in full force. And although Susan did her best to frown at the gibe, she could barely hide her smile.

Ryan sat up gingerly, testing her limbs, and was relieved to see everything in working order.

“I would like to clean up a bit,” she said to Victor, “then I will join you in the study. After that,” she said, turning to Susan, “I will happily be your lab rat.”

Victor turned as Ryan entered, pleased to see she carried herself with her usual lithe grace. The disquiet he felt upon her initial awakening had dissipated. She carried Drake upon her back and he clung to her neck, holding himself without requiring her support. She slung him around, then set him down. No sooner did his feet touch the ground then he raced to a pile of children’s books, returning with one of his favorites. Ryan examined the book with mock seriousness.

“You’re going to read to me about this cat and its hat?”

“Yes!” Drake exclaimed happily. Ryan was pleased to hear him speak aloud. Her mental bond with her son was so great that most times they did not need speech to communicate. He was actually quite articulate for his age and engaged in animated conversation with others, especially Jason. Ryan had to remind herself not to neglect that part of his development.

He handed her the book, then quickly returned with another one. “This one has a bear,” he said with some authority, “who likes honey.”

“Ah,” Ryan said, “I see.” He passed this book to her as well, then procured another one. This tome was quite different, however. It was thick and appeared very, very old. It was also very heavy although Drake had no difficulty carrying it.

“This one is too hard,” Drake said, “even for Jason.”

A shadow flitted across Ryan’s face as she looked at the book. It was the story of King Arthur, one of the very first books ever printed, and it was most likely priceless. Victor had given it to her as a gift centuries before. She took the ancient text from the small boy’s hands.

“Then I will read this one to you,” Ryan said, “after you read to me about the bear.”

Drake seemed pleased with this arrangement, but the books would have to wait. Edward entered, reminding Ryan that her son required food even though she did not.

“Master Jason awaits your presence at the kitchen table, Master Drake.”

Food pleased Drake as much as the promise of reading, although it was clear he wanted to stay with his mother. Ryan picked him up, tossed him into the air, then handed him off to her manservant. “You go eat,” Ryan said, “we’ll read after Dr. Ryerson is done with me.”

The two disappeared and Ryan turned back to her father. The book had stirred up a vortex of memories, some recent, some ancient, most not even hers.

“What’s wrong?” Victor asked, assessing her shift in mood.

Ryan stared down at the book in her hands. There was so much to tell her father, so much information that had flooded into her consciousness. But much of it would be difficult to explain because what she had learned she had also actually experienced, making it even more challenging to sort out. One of Ryan’s greatest gifts was to see through the eyes of others, experiencing their thoughts and memories as if they were her own. It was an extremely disorienting ability, though, as she constantly had the sensation of remembering things that had never happened to her and recalling events she had never been a part of. When she was inundated with information, as had so recently occurred, she had difficulty separating what was her reality and what belonged to someone else.

“It was my intent,” Ryan said slowly, “to give you my blood. It would be the simplest way to show you what I’ve seen.”

“But you’re having second thoughts after your temporary memory loss,” Victor deduced.

Ryan bit her lip, careful not to draw blood because its presence would most likely eliminate any restraint either of them possessed. “I took Madelyn’s blood, and—,” Ryan hesitated, at a loss for words. “and someone else’s,” she finished lamely. “I cannot know what effect this has had on me.”

Victor was silent. He wanted more than anything to lift her up and fasten himself on her neck. Not only would it give him knowledge, it would give her strength, not to mention incomparable pleasure to both of them. But he knew she was right.

“The other one you Shared with,” he stopped, the words and their meaning too monumental for him to formulate. He braced himself, then continued. “That was that my mother?”

“Yes,” Ryan said simply. “I believe it was.”

Victor stared at his child. There was a horrible breadth of knowledge in her eyes, an understanding so deep and painful he knew that words would be inadequate to communicate it.

“She wasn’t human,” he said quietly, “was she?”

“No,” Ryan said, “she was not even of this world.” Ryan glanced down at the tome she still held in her hands and a slight smile drifted across her features. “Your father, on the other hand, was quite human, and quite extraordinary.”

This startled Victor. For whatever reason, it had not even occurred to him to ask about his father. He was about to ask for more detail when he noticed that Ryan had become very pale. The book slipped from her hands and her knees buckled. A look of pain flashed in her eyes and she would have collapsed had not Victor sprang to her side.

“Ryan,” he said urgently, but her eyes were unfocused and she did not respond. He did not hesitate, but gathered her into his arms to take her to the best doctor he knew.

CHAPTER 4

LIA WISHED FOR DEATH, but death would not come. Cruelly, she lay there for days while the stink of her husband and children grew noxious, then unbearable. It was not hunger or pain that finally drove her from her shelter, but rather the putrid smell of death.

She crawled from her hut, pushing open the door she had been so proud of, the door that had offered her no protection from the parade of horror that had passed by her home. She crawled out into the smoldering ruins of her village to find herself the only survivor of the once thriving town.

She staggered to her feet. The scavengers, both human and avian, had moved on. All that was left were thick swarms of flies that hovered about the dead, feeding from them then leaving their eggs in the rotting carcasses. She stumbled toward the well, briefly wondering if it was contaminated, a thought which caused her to collapse at its edge in bitter laughter. It took a moment for her to regain control, and then she pulled herself weakly up onto the brick retaining wall.

The water level was high and she was able to lean and scoop from its surface. She drank greedily, the stagnant water the most refreshing thing she had ever tasted. She splashed water over her face, then down her throat, washing the blood from the wound that should have killed her.

The water in the well stilled, its surface becoming smooth and placid once more. The sun was at an angle that created a mirror-like reflection of the surface. Lia became very still as she caught sight of her image in the water. She leaned down in disbelief.

Her skin had taken on a leathery appearance. She leaned closer, touching her hand to her cheek. It was smooth and supple, more so than it had been before. There were tiny, repetitive patterns that looked much like scales. Lia looked down at her body. Her upper arms had taken on the same pattern, stopping about halfway above her elbows. She ripped open her shirt, exposing her cleavage. The scaliness had spread down her breasts to just above the nipple, about the same distance it had traveled down her arm.