Bloodchild (15 page)

Aedan fell silent after that,
although his nervousness didn’t abate.

They were ushered into a
medium-sized room and left alone with the woman waiting there for them. Clad in
a guard’s uniform, her sharp features rendered sterner than usual by the lack
of a smile, she sat in one of the armchairs arranged in a loose circle for
companionable discussion, though she didn’t indicate they should sit with her.
Taking his cue from Aedan, Bradan remained standing after offering her a small,
awkward bow.

For a long moment, Ciara observed
him, her gaze unabashed as she studied him. She didn’t say a word when Aedan
recited something about Bloodchildren, Makers, and clans that barely permeated
Bradan’s mind. A heavy silence weighed in the room until she addressed him.

“I wish I could say Aedan has told
me everything about you,” she drawled, “but I’m afraid he never said a word
about having a brother.”

She seemed to be expecting an
answer from him, but Bradan had no idea what it might be. He wasn’t going to
apologize on Aedan’s behalf. The last time they’d met, Ciara had tried to needle
him and complicate his relationship with Aedan; was that what she was doing
today, too?

“If you know him,” he answered in
a neutral voice, “you know me.”

She burst out laughing at that.

“Oh, you’re funny. And so
clueless. Two ways in which you two are definitely not alike.”

Her gaze had turned almost
predatory, and Bradan struggled not to shift and show how uncomfortable he was.
Was she trying to rile him up? Why wasn’t Aedan saying anything?

After another few seconds, she
stood and approached them—approached Bradan; she was still ignoring Aedan.

“I thought I knew Aedan,” she said
in a decidedly cooler voice. “But that was before he shamed our clan. Before he
broke his oath to the king. Before I knew he lied to me from the moment we
first met. And before he made a Bloodchild without my permission.”

Her tone hardened, turning almost
bitter as she added, “So, no, I don’t know him.”

Something Bradan couldn’t quite
define drifted through the bond, a cross between guilt and resignation.

“I’ve tried to tell you before,”
Aedan said, “my oath to—”

“I was talking to Bradan,” Ciara
snapped without so much as turning her angry gaze toward Aedan. “I have no
interest whatsoever in what you have to say to defend yourself.”

From the corner of his eye, Bradan
could see Aedan flinch and bow his head. The same uncomfortable silence as
earlier settled on them. This time, Bradan broke it first.

“May I ask a question?”

The bond rang with a sense of
alarm. Clearly Aedan thought Bradan would do best to remain silent. But if
Aedan couldn’t explain, Bradan had to try.

“Go ahead,” Ciara said with a
slight nod.

“He turned me to save me. He had
no time to ask for your permission. Would you have given it if there had been
time for him to ask?”

Ciara did not bat an eyelash, nor
did she hesitate even for a second.

“No.”

Bradan was taken aback. He had
expected a different reply—or at least for Ciara to concede the situation had
been less than ideal.

“Because he… shamed his clan?” he
asked, trying to understand.

Ciara shook her head. “Because you
two are brothers. There are rules. Vampires do not turn their blood kin. That’s
simply not done.”

It didn’t explain anything.

“Why?”

She sighed. “Like I said,
clueless. Or too innocent for your own good. I don’t know which is worse.”

Her jaw clenched, and she turned a
hard look toward Aedan.

“Would you care to enlighten him,
Bloodchild?” she said in a mocking tone. “Since you are so eager to impart your
wisdom to us.”

Aedan shifted where he stood.

“I’m not sure—”

“Tell him why vampires don’t turn
their blood kin,” Ciara cut in, and she wasn’t asking anymore; it was an order.
“Or this is the day I punish you for shaming our clan.”

“A Maker will usually bed her or
his Bloodchild,” Aedan said, the words as bland as though he were reciting a
lesson, “as a means to reinforce training about how and when to feed or how to
act in regard to humans.”

While Bradan heard every word just
fine, they didn’t make sense. Bed? They couldn’t mean…

He grimaced when he realized that,
yes, that was exactly what they meant. Ciara chuckled and turned away to go
back to the chair she’d occupied earlier.

“Judging from your expression, I’m
guessing your Maker hasn’t followed that path?”

“Of course not!” Bradan blurted
out. “We’re brothers!”

“My point exactly. Although it
didn’t stop Aedan from turning you. I would be well within my rights to kill
you, you know. To kill both of you.”

Shock flashed through the bond, so
deep that Bradan didn’t even feel fear of his own, only Aedan’s. He turned to
him, just as Aedan was taking a step forward and stilling again.

“He didn’t do anything,” Aedan
said. “It was all me. None of it was his fault.”

Bradan had never heard his brother
sound as scared as he was now. It shook him to his core. Ciara, on the other
hand, acted as though she hadn’t even heard him and continued speaking while
inspecting her nails.

“That’s what the king suggested I
do, but it seems like a terrible waste.”

“Rhuinn knows about—”

Her head snapped up, and she
glowered at Aedan.

“I told you to be quiet,” she
growled.

When Aedan flinched and took a
step back, Bradan could understand why: her words were like thunder, echoing
through him all the way down to his bones.

“And he’s still your king,” she
went on, “whether you are loyal to him or not. You stand in his palace. You
will give him the respect he is owed.”

Aedan lowered his head again and
said nothing. Ciara allowed silence to stretch between them once more before
she went on.

“Yes, the king knows. I told him.
Because I am loyal. I respect the oath I took. And whatever knowledge I possess
about his adversaries is not something for me to keep to myself.”

The same fear Bradan had heard in
his brother’s voice now came through loud and clear, obliterating everything
even though he remained quiet. Not fear for himself, Bradan knew that much.
Aedan had come here with full knowledge that he might die, and he’d accepted
that fact. No, he was afraid Bradan would die with him and Vivien would lose
the two people who cared most about her in the world.

“Will you do as the king
demanded?” Bradan asked. “Will you kill us?”

This time, she answered without
taking a moment to think about it.

“I respect the oath I took. But
nowhere in that oath does it say I must lead my clan according to the king’s
instructions. I will kill Aedan, but it won’t be today, and it won’t be because
it was demanded of me. As for you… No, I won’t kill you.”

Aedan’s relief was instantaneous.
He believed her. And because he did, Bradan did as well.

“But I can’t say,” she added with
a sigh, “that I look forward to hearing you’ve killed humans to feed and shamed
our clan even more.”

That, too, Aedan believed, and it
was all too easy for Bradan to understand why.

He’d thought it might come to
this. It wasn’t something he wanted, but it was what he had to do if he wanted
to keep Vivien safe. She’d have to understand that. And so would Aedan.

“If I stay here,” he said,
speaking quickly so he wouldn’t get the chance to change his mind, “will you
please teach me? So that I don’t hurt anyone?”

Before he was even finished,
Aedan’s hand closed on his arm and pulled so they faced each other. The fear
was back, this time gleaming in his eyes, deeper than ever.

“What are you doing?” he said
urgently.

“What I have to,” Bradan murmured.
“You know it.”

“Oh, by all the Quickening…” Ciara
was on her feet again, and approaching them. “You already did, didn’t you? Who
was it you killed?”

“I didn’t kill her.”

“Her?” Ciara repeated, her eyes
widening. “Your dame, wasn’t it?”

When Bradan didn’t deny it, she
whirled on Aedan, her words scathing.

“Have I taught you so poorly,
Bloodchild, that you couldn’t transmit the most basic of our lessons?”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Bradan
said. “I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to listen. But I’m ready to now.”

She studied him, the same way she
had when they’d first entered, but somehow this time her gaze seemed to slide
in more deeply and see everything he was and had ever been, everything he felt,
everything he feared. In the end, she gave a small, slight nod.

“Say goodbye to your brother,
Aedan. And leave before I change my mind about not killing you today.”

She walked past them to the door
and stepped out, talking to the guards outside.

“Don’t do this,” Aedan murmured,
his hand tightening on Bradan’s arm.

Bradan shook his head.

“I don’t have a choice. I can’t
learn control if I’m next to her. I need some distance. We can’t risk it
happening again.”

Aedan’s hand fell away. He
understood. More than that, he agreed. Even so, he looked crestfallen.

“And what am I going to tell her?”

“Tell her it’s my choice. Tell her
this is for her. Everything I ever did was for her. Tell her I’ll be with her
again as soon as it’s safe. And tell her I love her. Take care of her, won’t
you?”

His voice broke on the last words.

Aedan drew him into a tight hug
and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I failed you.”

“You never failed me. If anything,
I failed you. But I won’t do it again, I promise. Take care of yourself,
brother.”

“You do the same.”

When they pulled apart, Aedan
turned away without another word. The last glimpse Bradan had of him was of
Aedan being marched down the corridor by four guards before Ciara reentered the
room and closed the door.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Unexpected Visitor

As much as Vivien tried not to
worry about Brad and Aedan going to Rhuinn’s palace, her mind started to circle
through their parting words only minutes after they’d left. She felt as though
she’d missed something, as though a question that should have been asked had
remained unvoiced, but try as she might, she couldn’t put her finger on it.
They’d said it would go fine, they had all but promised it, and she couldn’t
believe that either of them would have lied to her to stop her from
worrying—Brad because he loved her, and Aedan because it would have gone
against his duty.

Or would it? Would he lie to her
if he believed the lie was protecting her? He’d once literally picked her up
and carried her away from danger despite her protests because he thought he
knew better—and in hindsight she could admit it to herself if not to him, maybe
in that particular instance he’d been right. Would lying be acceptable to him
if it fell under the same heading of ‘keeping Vivien out of danger’?

Her distraction did not allow her
to channel well, and she could tell that Olric, with whom she was training, was
not impressed by her efforts. Was he already regretting having thrown his
fortune in with hers? The thought shouldn’t have stung so much. Hadn’t it been
a few days ago that Vivien had not even wanted more guards?

The familiar bell echoing through
the castle gave her a convenient excuse to stop, though it did puzzle her. It
couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes, maybe half an hour since Brad and
Aedan had left. Could they be back already? What did it mean that their visit
had been so short?

She had her answer soon enough.
Savel hurried to the throne room where she’d been sparring, and informed her
that Lord Deltrea of the Lo Mirhea family was requesting the honor of a visit.

Surprise came first; she hadn’t
had visitors since before her birthday, when Rhuinn had made it clear that he
was displeased with those members of the High Families who were visiting her.
Curiosity was quick to follow. When she’d met Deltrea, a young man a little
younger than she was, he had accompanied his mother, who was the head of their
family and spoke as such. He hadn’t said much at all while Vivien received
them. What did it mean that he was back now and, it seemed, on his own?

Thinking fast, she asked Savel to
drop by the kitchen to talk to Doril, then allow Deltrea to Pass Through and
take him to the reception room. She walked out with him to go there herself,
Olric on her heels. As she took a seat, she tried to remember what Aedan had
taught her about receiving members of the High Families.

She had to get this right. He
wouldn’t let her hear the end of it if she made a mistake. As it was, he would
have probably criticized what she wore and suggested she put on something more
dame-like than the simple, unadorned dress she wore and the scarf at her neck,
but it wasn’t as though she had time to change.

And she was spending too much time
around Aedan if she could predict what he was likely to say…

“Dame Vivien?” Olric said quietly
as she was rehearsing her greeting in her mind. He continued when she gave him
a questioning look. “I apologize but… What am I supposed to do when you receive
someone? I’m sure Aedan or Savel meant to teach me at some point, but they
haven’t yet.”

Vivien tried to stifle a flash of
annoyance. It wasn’t Olric’s fault that he was new at his job. For that matter,
she was new at hers, if it could be called a job, and constantly feeling as
though she were barely fooling everyone around her. If only Aedan had been
there…

The thought took her aback; more
often than not, she wished she could see less of Aedan. She’d never caught
herself wishing for his presence before.

Trying to remember what Aedan had
done and where he’d stood when she’d received visitors before, she explained it
to Olric as quickly as she could, so that by the time Savel knocked and pushed
open the wide doors, introducing Deltrea, they were both waiting for him.

She rose, welcomed Deltrea by his
full name, and they both sat down. Vivien just had time to notice that his
clothes seemed much less elaborate than the first time she’d met him when Doril
came in as though on cue, carrying refreshments.

She could do this, Vivien realized
as she poured the tea. She’d been doing fine until now, and as long as she
watched what she said, there was no reason for her to embarrass herself. In all
the time she’d been on Foh’Ran, this was the strongest she’d ever felt that she
might belong here and wasn’t merely playing pretend the way Aedan and Brad
wanted her to. She couldn’t wait for Brad to come back so that she could tell
him.

It was the thought of what he’d
say that made her smile as she took a sip of tea and asked Deltrea, “So, tell
me, to what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your company?”

A flicker of surprise lit
Deltrea’s dark eyes, and Vivien soon understood why.

“How refreshing to meet someone
who doesn’t stand for idle talk and goes straight to the matters of
importance,” he said with a thin smile.

She interpreted this as meaning he
had expected small talk before they got to the reasons of his presence. Ten
minutes ago, maybe, Vivien would have reproached herself for her blunder. Right
now, though, it didn’t feel so important.

“I would apologize for my
directness,” she said, “but I have much on my mind at the moment. My first duel
with Rhuinn is in two days, as I am sure you know, and I can’t say I expected
visitors before the outcome of that first battle is known, if not much later.”

Deltrea nodded once and set his
tea cup down.

“Had I been the head of my
family,” he said gravely, “I am sure my advisors would have counseled against
visiting you at this time. And while I look forward to the day I’ll take my
mother’s place, I intend to enjoy every freedom afforded to me until I do.
Including visiting whomever I please whenever I want without worrying about
consequences.”

He gave her a charming smile
before leaning forward and adding, “Especially when the company is as
delightful as at present.”

So, that was his game, Vivien
thought. Aedan had warned her before her first official visit that High
Families would be interested in marrying her off to one of their heirs in hopes
of reaching the throne. Her future was precarious right now, but it seemed that
the Lo Mirhea family was still hedging its bets. She smiled back coyly.

Two could play that game.

* * * *

After Aedan Passed Through back
into the castle, he remained still for a moment, standing in the middle of the
room and feeling disoriented. Bradan’s absence felt like a missing limb.

Aedan had anticipated he might not
come back to the castle today—might not survive a meeting with Ciara—and that
Bradan might have to return on his own. He’d worried about what would happen
then, when he was no longer there to make sure Bradan’s instincts did not
endanger their dame. At no moment had it occurred to him that he might be the
one coming back on his own.

Of all possibilities, it might be
the one that would keep their dame the safest, but the feeling remained, like a
gaping wound oozing blood, that something was wrong, terribly wrong. Bradan
should have been here, at his side; his brother, his Bloodchild, his fellow
guard…

“Aedan?”

He started at the sound of his own
name and raised his eyes to see Savel standing by the door. Of course. He was
the one who had let him Pass Through. He acknowledged him with a nod of his
head and started forward.

“Where’s our dame?” he asked; his
words sounded like cracking ice. “I need to speak to her.”

And say what, he didn’t know, but
he’d have to find the words.

“She’s in the reception room,”
Savel said. “She’s receiving a visitor.”

Aedan’s head snapped up at that
and he stopped mid-stride, staring at Savel.

“A visitor? Who?”

“Lord Deltrea of the Lo Mirhea
family. He arrived after…”

But Aedan wasn’t listening
anymore. He hurried down the corridor and toward the reception room, faltering
when his hands sought his knives and found only empty sheaths. Part of him knew
his dame had to be safe. Olric had to be with her, for one thing, and for the
other, no one would have dared raise a hand to one of the participants
committed to a duel.

Olric was young, a small voice
insisted at the back of his mind, still learning his duty as guard. And
Deltrea, even if he didn’t harm Dame Vivien, could complicate everything in
ways Aedan preferred not to contemplate.

He used the back door of the
reception room, slipping in so quietly that Dame Vivien did not appear to
notice, not until Deltrea’s eyes flicked toward him. She followed Deltrea’s
gaze but did not react and continued to converse over tea and small cakes.
Olric stood a step and to the side behind her armchair, and Deltrea’s guard
mirrored his position behind his lord. It would have been impolite for Dame
Vivien to have two guards at her side when her guest only had one, so Aedan
approached Olric and, whispering, relieved him of his duty.

For a second, Olric looked like he
might protest, but a quick frown from Aedan silenced him, and he left the room
through the back door, though not quite as quietly as Aedan had come in. Dame
Vivien looked back, a brief, questioning expression crossing her features, but
they were smooth again when she turned back to Deltrea.

During the next hour or so, Aedan
didn’t manage to take in more than an occasional word of what Dame Vivien and
Deltrea were talking about. Good guards were unobtrusive and always discreet,
pretending to the best of their abilities not to be listening to the conversations
they witnessed. Today, Aedan wasn’t pretending.

His mind was buzzing with Bradan
and what he had done, and nothing else quite seemed to matter right now. He
kept clutching at the bond and trying to pick up from it what Bradan was
feeling or experiencing, but all he could sense was wariness and a sense of
determination. Bradan, it seemed, was convinced he had done the right thing,
but that didn’t mean he was any happier with his solution to their problem than
Aedan was.

When Deltrea finally stood to take
his leave, Aedan was almost startled out of his thoughts. He preceded Deltrea
and his guard into the corridor, entrusting both of them to Olric and Savel who
were waiting by the door and would see them back to the Passing Room. Steeling
himself at the news he had to deliver now, Aedan stepped back into the
reception room and closed the door. He found Dame Vivien still in her chair,
although no longer sitting so perfectly straight. She grinned at him as he
approached.

“Can you believe this just
happened?” she asked, gesturing at the opposite seat in what he supposed was an
invitation to sit down.

Aedan remained standing, his hands
clasped behind him.

“Dame Vivien… I must tell you—”

“What do you think he meant when
he was talking about mistakes of the past?”

“I’m not sure that’s—”

But she wasn’t listening, too
caught up in her own excitement.

“You missed the best part. Before
you came in, he pledged to support me when I claim the throne!”

The claim derailed Aedan’s train
of thoughts, and he considered what she had said. It took him no time to reach
a conclusion.

“I’m sorry to say it means very
little for him to pledge his support now,” he said cautiously. “He’s not head
of his family, so anything he says can be later dismissed as the mistake of
youth.”

Dame Vivien rolled her eyes at
him. It didn’t look very regal at all.

“Oh, stop being so gloomy. It was
something
,
all right? Proof that I’m not the only one who thinks Rhuinn is wrong. And he
said other people agree with me but are too scared now, but they might come out
in my support after I win the first duel.”

‘After I win,’ she said, and
warmth seeped through Aedan. After, not if. She was confident then, more so
than she had shown herself so far. If that was the result of Deltrea’s show of
support, then it wasn’t quite as meaningless as Aedan had first assessed.

“Where’s Brad?” she said, jumping
to her feet. “I want to tell him about this. Maybe he’ll show a bit more
enthusiasm than you do.”

As she looked at Aedan, his throat
tightened, and the reality of the situation slammed back into him. He had to
tell her, but he still didn’t know how to voice it.

“Dame Vivien…”

“Oh, come on,” she sighed. “I just
want to talk to him, and I know you’ll be right there. I’ll be safe.”

Aedan found himself wishing that
things were back to the tense status quo of that morning. At least, then, he’d
known how to act.

As she looked at him, Dame
Vivien’s expression changed little by little, growing more worried with each
passing instant.

“Aedan?” she said, and now her
voice was almost a whisper. “Where’s Brad?”

He closed his eyes and said it as
plainly as he could.

“He decided to remain at the
palace with Ciara so that she may teach him.”

When he dared to look at her
again, she was staring at him as though struck speechless. She shook herself
off and said, louder now, “Your humor is terrible. Now tell me where Brad is. I
want to talk to him.”

He didn’t know why she would think
he was joking. He’d never made a joke in her presence; it wasn’t proper. Maybe
she couldn’t believe that Bradan would do such a thing, not any more than Aedan
had believed it at first.

“I’m sorry,” he said, bowing his
head. “But it’s the truth. He’s afraid to hurt you. He’s afraid I can’t teach
him well enough.”