Bloodline (22 page)

“You know that I can't stay here.”

A look of dread came into her eyes, and her face seemed to go a shade lighter. “Of course not—not permanently—but stay just for now,” she said, although I think she knew, even then, what my answer had to be.

I shook my head sadly.

“Just until we figure out what to do,” she rushed on. “We can make a plan and—”

I cupped her face between my palms. “I already know what I have to do.”

“Please don't go there alone.” She blinked at the dampness that swam in her eyes but could not so easily hide her fear. “We'll get more help. We'll get reinforcements. We'll get—”

“You need to tell me where it is. How to get there.”

She closed her eyes, bit her lip. “If I tell you, and you die in your attempt, how will I ever live with that, Lilith?”

“And if I don't try and just leave all those prisoners to their fate, and some of them die, or even just one of them
dies, how will
I
live with
that?
” I asked her, then swallowed hard, because her tears spilled over, and the sight of them caused me pain. “What if this is what I was born to do?” I asked her. “What if my entire purpose in being conceived, being born with the antigen, being taken from you to be raised in that place, escaping alive—what if all of it was to enable me to do this? To save them? What if this is my destiny? Would you deny me my destiny?”

She blinked away her tears. “Does it really feel that way to you?”

I could only nod.

“I guess I can understand that. Though I joined this organization with only my own self-interest in mind—my desire to find you—I came to realize that it was so much more. It was meant to be. This cause is one I was destined to serve. So how can I deny you the chance to serve your own?” She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “But be careful. Promise me that.”

“Extremely careful. I'll just look around the place at first, see if there are any weaknesses I can exploit.” I realized I was proposing to her the same plan that Ethan had earlier proposed to me. To take it slow, to be careful, to know all I could before risking myself. He'd been right about those things. Even if he had only said them to delay me.

“If they catch you—” my mother began, but she left the sentence unfinished. And I thought perhaps it was too horrible for her to contemplate what might happen to me if I were caught.

I smiled to reassure her. “You haven't seen me run, have you?”

She allowed a small smile in return. “There's nothing I can do to talk you out of this, is there?”

“No. I'm sorry, I really am. I wish we'd had more time together. If all goes well, perhaps we will.” I took my palms from her cheeks and leaned close to press my lips to them instead, a gesture of love that was as spontaneous as it was sincere.

She sighed and nodded gently. “Give me a moment, then. We have maps inside, and the coordinates, as well. I'll write the directions down for you. It will be faster—well, at least safer—if you take one of the boats.”

“Thank you.”

While the other women headed into the cabin and began lighting lamps and building a fire in the hearth, my mother led me around to the side that faced the nighttime lake. For a moment I let the natural beauty of this place touch me and its peace soothe me. Then she left me there and went inside to get me the information she had promised.

There were two long docks, with several small boats tied alongside them. One or two had small outboard motors, but most had only oars.

As I stood there, listening to the gentle lapping of the water against the hulls, staring out at the way the stars were reflected on the surface of the lake, I thought again of Ethan. I felt again his arms around me. His mouth on mine. The delicious weight of his body on top of me, and the blissful pleasure of him inside me. And in spite of everything, I wanted him again. I ached for him. And I felt tears brimming in my eyes, but I blinked them away when I heard my mother reemerge from the cabin. Her footsteps crossed the dock to where I stood, and I turned to face her, hoping she wouldn't see the pain and longing that seemed to be crushing my heart.

“Take this one,” she said, pointing at one of the boats.
“It has a motor, in case you need it. But don't use it unless you have to. You'll want to row,” she told me. “Otherwise, the noise will give you away.”

“All right.”

“You start it by flipping the switch, there, and then pulling hard on the cord.” She showed me what she meant, and told me how to steer the thing, as well. She told me how to speed up or slow down, and how to kill the motor when I no longer needed it. She checked to be sure it was filled with gasoline, and advised me to wear the life jacket that lay across the seat.

And all the while I thought she was only delaying the inevitable moment when I would leave her. I understood. I felt the same.

At last she handed me the folded scrap of paper on which she had scribbled directions, at the same time reciting them aloud, in case I should lose the note.

I took it and dropped it into a pocket. Thanks to these women, I had fed and rested and now wore fresh, practical clothing. Jeans, a tank top and a light hooded sweatshirt, currently unzipped. I had socks and running shoes. I had more than that, too. I had a small army of women who would grieve if something should happen to me. My mother most of all, of course, but I did not doubt that the other members of her odd secret order would weep for me, as well.

It was a foreign feeling.

I wondered if Ethan would mourn me if I were killed. I wondered if he would regret taking his brother's side against me. Or whether he even knew that was what he had done by betraying our mission to James.

James was evil. I had no doubt of that. No matter how
much I'd thought on it, I couldn't see any other answer. Someone had told those DPI bastards that we were on our way. And no one else had known.

“I love you, Lilith,” my mother told me, then hugged me hard. I hugged her back almost fiercely.

As we pulled apart, she pressed a key into my hand. I frowned at it. “For the locked case you'll find under the seat cushion in the boat. There are weapons inside. Tranq guns for vamps, regular ones for anyone else. Just in case.”

“Thank you, Mother,” I whispered, then found it difficult to speak any louder, due to the constriction of my throat. “I…No matter what happens, I—”

“Don't say that.”

“No matter what happens,” I repeated, insistent now, “I'm so glad I got the chance to meet you, to know you a little. And to understand what an extraordinary thing it is to have a mother, to know her love.”

“I'm glad, too,” she said softly.

I hugged her again, then pulled away and turned to climb into my boat. My mother leaned over to untie it from its moorings, then tossed the rope to me.

I waved once, then took the oars and began to row, watching my mother as I went. She remained right where she was, standing on the dock, a cloak wrapped around her shoulders. The night breeze lifted its fringed edges and tossed her hair. And I drank in the sight of her for as long as I could, until a bend in the shoreline hid her from my sight.

Then I lowered my head and let the tears flow.

This caring for other people was new to me. Oh, I'd thought I understood it. I'd thought that my desire to
save the others at The Farm was because I cared for them—and I did. I had cared for them before I'd left. I remembered it clearly now. And I cared for them still.

But that caring was nothing compared to what I felt for my newfound mother. And nothing compared to what I felt for Ethan.

As I dipped the oars and rowed ever farther from them, I feared I had lost them both. And the possibility that I might die in my efforts this night paled beside the thought that I might never see either one of them again.

I wondered briefly if I'd been better off before I'd known what it was to love. For to lose that love was a pain beyond anything I could ever have felt had I never known it.

And yet, despite the pain and the loss, I realized I wouldn't give up any of it. Not the touch of a mother's love, and certainly not the joy I'd found in Ethan's arms. No, I wouldn't give up any of it, not for all the world.

* * *

Serena watched her daughter go and hoped to God it wasn't the last time she would ever see Lilith alive. She was so filled with love for her that it seemed to be nearly bursting from her heart. There was very little she could do to ensure her daughter's survival.

But there was
one
thing.

It would mean breaking her oath to the Sisterhood, the order to which she had pledged her very life. It might very well mean harsh punishment when they found out what she had done.

When a woman joined the Sisterhood of Athena, she joined for life. No one left, and betrayers…well, betrayers vanished. There was an unspoken understanding that
for the greater good, no one must be allowed the chance to reveal the secrets of the order.

She didn't know for sure that traitors were summarily, if humanely, put to death. But it was what she believed happened, in those extremely rare instances. And it was, at that moment, what she believed would happen to her.

It didn't matter. She would gladly give her life to save her daughter's. There was no hesitation, no fear in her heart. “It's what mothers do,” she whispered.

Pulling the cell phone from a pocket, she checked the screen, relieved to see that there was a signal in this remote place. It was Ginger's phone, not her own. She'd switched the phones while Ginger slept. She'd learned long ago of a forbidden contact Ginger had hung on to, despite orders from above to the contrary.

She found the list of phone numbers and scrolled down until she found the one she wanted. The one belonging to the only person in the world who might be able to help save Lilith and the other captives being held at The Farm.

She was one of only a handful of her kind who knew of the Sisterhood's existence. She and her friends had vowed to keep the order's secret, but the powers that be had forbidden any future contact, and though they hadn't said the words “on pain of death,” that had been fully understood.

And yet Serena pressed the button, and the telephone placed the taboo call. She felt a chill rush up her spine as she listened to the woman's phone ringing. Once, twice, three times.

And finally, sounding extremely irritated, the woman herself answered the phone with a curt, “Who are you, and how did you get this number?”

Swallowing hard, Serena forced herself to speak. “My
name is Serena, and I know what's been happening to the Chosen. I know where they are. The missing ones. My daughter is among them, trying to save them, though I fear it will cost her her life. I can't hope to help her, but you can. And I'm begging you to provide that help…Rhiannon.”

“W
here are you, Lilith?” Ethan demanded to the sky and the air and the emptiness around him.

But naturally, none of them answered his plea.

He'd followed his sense of her through a vast library and into one of several tunnels, then emerged from the underground passageway and spotted the amber glow coming from a cabin on the shore of an extremely large lake. There were other cabins, but his eyes were drawn to that closest one. There was a lot of movement inside, but more important, he felt that Lilith had been there, and quite recently. It was incredible, his unseen, undeniable bond with Lilith, begun in captivity, empowered by sex and the sharing of blood—but not even all that seemed capable of explaining the intensity of their connection. Nor did it explain his urgent need to find her. To protect her. To touch her again.

He'd followed his awareness of her through those tunnels, finding her trail unerringly. He didn't think he could have done that with anyone else, mortal or vampire. He didn't believe he could have done it even with his own brother. God knew he'd tried.

He let the trapdoor in the ground fall closed behind him and strode down the grassy slope toward the cabin. And with every step, his sense of Lilith grew stronger and he moved faster, until he was running.

His instincts led him not into the cabin but past it, toward the lake itself, and his feet hit the dock, pounding across it.

She stood with her back toward him, tall and slender and regal as a queen, staring off into the distance, over the water. Her hair was concealed beneath the cloak she wore around her shoulders. He wondered where she'd gotten it even as she heard his approach and turned to face him.

Her profile made his heart jump in his chest, but then she faced him fully, and his elation became disappointment. He came to an abrupt stop on the shore end of the dock, staring at her. This was not Lilith. And yet she resembled Lilith in a way that could not be coincidental.

“Who are you, and where is Lilith?” He spoke softly, though he wanted to shout.

“I'm Serena,” she said, folding the cell phone she'd been holding and dropping it into an unseen pocket. “I'm her mother.”

The words stunned him, and he rocked backward as they reached his ears. “That's a lie.”

“It's the truest thing in my life,” she told him. “Are you Ethan?”

He nodded, noting the tears on the woman's cheeks and the resemblance that seemed more evident with every second that he looked at her. Even her voice was like Lilith's.

“She was taken from me on the day she was born,” the woman said. “I've been searching for her ever since.”

He narrowed his eyes, probing her mind in search of any sign of deception. “All the children taken to be raised on The Farm are orphans,” he told her, even though he'd had his own doubts as to the veracity of that bit of his so-called education.

“Is that what they told you?” she asked, and then, with a shake of her head, she went on. “They told me my daughter was stillborn, even though I heard her cry. Lies, Ethan. All lies. That's what they do, they lie. And worse.”

“But you…and all those other women who were with you—you shot at us. You took her—”

“Would have taken you, too, if that other vampire hadn't beaten us to it.” She tipped her head to one side, coming closer to him as her eyes roamed his face. He felt as if she were trying to discover everything about him in one thorough look. He sensed no malice emanating from her. Moreover, her mind was wide open to his probing. She wasn't trying to hide anything from him.

“The keepers knew you two were on your way to The Farm, Ethan. Someone told them you were coming. They were waiting in ambush. You would have been killed. So
we
ambushed you instead. We couldn't think of any other way to save your lives.”

“We?” he asked, glancing nervously back at the cabin, reminded again that this woman had a dozen or so others with her, and that they had been armed with tranquilizer guns the last he knew.

“They're no threat to you,” she told him. “They're just a group of women dedicated to a common cause. A good one. And you really don't need to know more than that.”

“I'm not interested in knowing more than that.” He shifted his gaze back to hers. “Where is Lilith?”

The woman—Serena—studied him. “Why do you want to know?”

“So I can get to her in time to save her life!” he said, much more forcefully than he had intended. “My God, woman, do you know what she intends to do? She needs my help.”

Serena tipped her head to one side, staring hard into his eyes. “You love her,” she said softly.

“Just tell me where she is.” He didn't even try to mull her words over in his mind. Not here, not now.

The woman nodded toward the water. “She's on her way to The Farm. Just to surveil it, for now, or at least, that's what she promised me. But you know how unpredictable she is. Probably better than I do.”

He nodded. “She went by boat?” he asked, realizing now why Serena had been staring out at the water.

“Yes. From here, you just follow the shoreline until you see the waterfall, where the river empties into the lake. Bank the boat there, but hide it well.”

He looked down at the boats lined up along the dock.

“Take that one,” she said, pointing. “There are weapons under the seat. I'm sure you can get to them without the key. Take care of her, Ethan. Try not to get yourselves killed. I've asked for help, although I have no idea whether my request will be granted. Please try to keep her alive.”

“I will.” He climbed into the boat and stood in the bow, untying the rope that held it. He felt the woman's anguish, her worry, her grief. It was pouring from her in waves, and it felt to him a lot like his own. Looking up at her again, he said, “You really are her mother, aren't you?”

“I am,” she whispered. “And while you're rowing,
think about how the DPI knew you were coming. Ask yourself who could have told them.”

He frowned hard, averting his eyes as he coiled the rope and dropped it to the floor of the boat. “You say that as if you have a suspect in mind.”

“Lilith said she didn't tell anyone. Did
you,
Ethan?”

He looked up at her and held her eyes for a long moment. He knew exactly what she was suggesting and told himself it wasn't her business.

“Where is your brother, anyway?” she asked. “I'm guessing he was the one who took you from the road where we intercepted you and Lilith. Why aren't you with him now?”

“I thought it would be better to come alone.”

“So you don't trust him, either?”

He sat down hard, grabbed the oars and dipped them into the water. “He's my brother.”

“I see. I should probably tell you that Lilith believes you and he are working together, against her, and perhaps have been all along. So don't be surprised if she's not overjoyed to see you.”

“She thinks…?” He closed his eyes, shook his head. “How could she think something like that?”

“Well, she knows you told
someone
your plans, after giving her your word that you wouldn't. You tell me why she should trust you.” She looked at him straight on. “Doesn't that make sense to you?”

He wanted to say it didn't, but he knew it did. Lilith had never trusted anyone in her entire life until she'd trusted him. And he'd betrayed that trust, even though he felt she'd been wrong to demand what she had of him, and even though he'd been trying to save her life with ev
erything he'd done. That wouldn't change things in her eyes. He had broken his promise to her by telling his brother of their plans. He would be lucky if she
ever
trusted him again. Assuming, of course, that they lived long enough for her to have the chance.

As Ethan rowed away from the dock, Serena waved a gentle hand. “Be careful, Ethan. Bring my Lilith back safely.”

“Or die trying,” he muttered, but not loudly enough for her to hear. She was worried enough without that dire proclamation ringing in her ears. She was grieving again for the loss of the daughter she had only just found. He didn't doubt her story. The resemblance between the two women was so complete that it even included their auras. Their energy. He'd believed she
was
Lilith, standing there on the dock.

Now he had to focus on catching up to Lilith. He had to protect her. And he had to get his head straight about his brother. Was James on their side or not? Had he betrayed them to the DPI? Was James's loyalty to his trainers, his former captors, more powerful than his loyalty to the Bloodliners? To his own
brother?

Ethan rowed around a bend in the water, moving beyond sight of the ethereal woman who stood watching from the dock. He used the power of his arms and his preternatural strength to propel the boat far and fast with each stroke. He opened his mind and honed his senses to search for any trace of Lilith. He listened for her to call out to him but didn't dare call out to her. Thinking what she did, she might just run from him.

God, the idea that Lilith might actually be
afraid
of him, might actually believe that he wanted to capture her
and return her to The Farm, when all along he'd been trying to prevent her from going back there…the thought of it almost made him physically ill.

But she couldn't believe that. Not really. Could she?

All at once he felt her, and his awareness quickened. Twisting around in his seat to see if he could catch a glimpse of her, he rowed even faster. A roaring sound filled his ears—the waterfall of which Serena had spoken—and he applied even more power to the oars. No one would hear his approach, not with the pounding waterfall covering the sounds of his oars cutting into the water.

He rounded a curve in the shoreline and then he saw it: the waterfall and, just this side of it, a boat resting on the shore.

Lilith's boat?

But why hadn't she hidden it? Surely her mother would have given her the same advice she had given him.

Frowning, he turned his boat toward shore, then stroked hard toward the small boat that rested on the water's edge. He was only about twenty yards out when he heard Lilith scream.

* * *

I rowed my boat ashore just beside the waterfall my mother had described to me. What she'd failed to mention was how the sight of the cascade would take my breath away. It tumbled from a cliff high above the lake, shooting outward before arching and tumbling down, so I could row right underneath it, if I wanted to.

And I did want to, because it would be magical. But there was no time to indulge in whimsy. Not then. Instead, I turned the boat before I reached the waterfall, and once pointed toward shore, I rowed hard enough so
that my boat shot its nose up several feet onto the dry land before it came to a stop. Which meant I didn't have to get my feet wet getting out.

Before I debarked, though, I crouched and pulled my seat cushion aside. Then I inserted the key in the lock and opened the lid. The inside of the bench seat was lined in plastic, to make it waterproof. I reached inside and closed my hands around first one handgun, then another. One, I saw, was designed to fire tranquilizer darts, the other to fire bullets.

I set the tranq gun aside and felt for the box that contained ammunition, then pulled that out, as well. And as I crouched there, holding the gun in one hand and the box of bullets in the other, I felt another chunk of my past come rushing back to me. I knew how to use these weapons. I knew how to load them, how to aim, how to fire, how take them apart and put them back together.

I opened the box of bullets and set it aside, then turned the gun in my hand, depressed the release and caught the magazine in my free hand as it dropped from the hollow handle. Just cradling the gun in my palm had been enough to open the floodgates of knowledge and ability. I was delighted with that feeling of knowing, of confidence, of skill.

I felt empowered and strong and capable—right up until I felt the razor-sharp edge of a blade pressing against the skin of my neck.

“Don't move, Lilith. Don't move one little bit, or I'll slice your jugular clean to the bone, I promise.”

I blinked and remained very still. He stood behind me, one arm at my waist, pinning my own arms to my sides, the other holding that knife to my throat.

“Drop the gun,” he commanded.

And since I had little choice but to obey, I did, letting the handgun clunk onto the floor of the boat. I released the magazine from my other hand, and it, too, fell noisily.

“Now come with me. And don't try anything, Lilith. You'll bleed out faster than you can believe. I've seen it before in our kind. One slip of my hand and it'll be all over for you. Even if it's accidental, I wouldn't be able to save you. Nor would I be likely to try. They'll be just as happy to get you back dead as alive.”

I nodded very slightly, lest my neck get sliced by that blade. I believed him. He was a vampire, that much I knew. He'd managed to sneak up on me partly because I'd been so involved with what I was doing, and partly, I suspected, because he'd been blocking his essence from me.