Bloodline (5 page)

Serena lowered her head and let the tears flow. “I'm so confused. I don't know what's going on. Where's my baby? Why would someone take her? Why would they kill an innocent nurse?”

“I know all this is overwhelming to you right now. But I'm going to explain everything, I promise. Just…not here.”

“We have to go?” Serena knew her tone was whiney, and yet she couldn't help herself. “But I'm so tired.”

“I know. I've made you soup and a sandwich to eat on the way. This is a safe house, but we can't risk that you might have been followed. My car's in the garage. This way.”

The woman took Serena's arm and led her to the
kitchen, where the stranger picked up a Thermos and a zipper bag with a sandwich and a spoon tucked inside.

“Grab something to drink from the fridge, and then we'll get out of here,” she instructed.

Serena opened the refrigerator, which was well-stocked, as if someone lived here. Maybe someone did. Or had. She pulled out two bottles of diet cola and closed the fridge again. The woman was opening a door, and beyond it Serena saw the garage and a blue compact car.

“Come on.”

“No.” Serena stood where she was, finding her spine and her courage at last. “No, not until you tell me.”

Nodding, the woman asked, “What would you like to know?”

Serena frowned as her mind raced. “Something. Anything. Where we're going. Who's after us. Where my baby is. Even…your freaking name. Tell me something, for God's sake.”

The woman's face softened. She was perhaps thirty, Serena thought. Brunette hair in a silky, minklike ponytail. Brown doe's eyes beneath perfectly arched brows, and skin like a fresh peach, devoid of makeup.

“Terry. My name's Terry. I'm part of a…a secret society, I guess you'd call it. The Sisterhood of Athena. We…we watch, and almost never interfere. But when things go wrong, we step in to set them right again. Maureen was one of us.”

“You…watch…?”

“Yes.”

“You watch…what?” Serena asked.

Terry pressed her lips tight, as if deciding which words
to allow passage. “Your baby was—is—special, Serena. She was born with a very rare antigen in her blood.”

Serena remembered the file she had read. There had been something about an antigen. “Belladonna,” she said, trying out the word for the first time.

“Yes. Belladonna. People who are born with the Belladonna antigen have…special qualities. It's complicated, and it's something you need to hear about, but later, when we have more time, and when we're sure we're safe. But for now, all you need to know is that babies and young children with the antigen have been disappearing at an alarming rate for the past five years. And in most cases, their parents have been killed.”

Serena felt her eyes widen, her heart skip. “Murdered?”

Terry nodded once. “Usually it looks like an accident. Car wrecks. Plane crashes. Carbon monoxide leaks. House fires. Deadly falls from dangerous cliffs. Drownings. But it's happened too many times for it to be coincidence. So we've placed some of our members in various places—hospitals, doctor's offices, child protective agencies—undercover, just to watch and wait. And when someone mentions the antigen, we try to get to the mother and the baby before it's too late. Maureen wanted to get to you before they took your baby, but the best she could do was get to you before they arranged some accident that would take your life.”

Serena watched Terry's face while she spoke. The things the woman was saying didn't make a lot of sense, but she believed them. Maureen had believed them. She'd died because of them. How could Serena doubt?

“So where are you taking me?”

Terry put her hand on Serena's shoulder. “Someplace safe.”

“Is it far? I mean, I can't go far. I need to find my baby.”

Terry lowered her eyes, and her voice softened by degrees. “If you choose to stay with us, we'll help you search for your baby, Serena. We have more resources, more connections—a much better chance than you would ever have alone. But it would mean giving up everything you've known before. Joining the Sisterhood means being reborn. You'll have a new family, a new life. Your past will be lost to you forever.”

Serena pondered briefly before asking, “Have you found any of the other children who've been taken?”

“No. Not yet. But we're getting closer all the time.”

“Oh.” A wave of disappointment nearly drowned her, but she managed to push it aside. “Then…I don't know.”

“You don't have to make a decision now. You can spend a few days with us, learn a little bit more about what we do and why, and then you can decide. If you want to leave, you can. But the truth is, you're not safe here. And we have to go. Now.”

Serena nodded. “All right.”

She followed Terry to the little blue car. Terry started the engine, thumbed a button to open the garage door and then backed out, looking both ways. As she drove, she checked the rearview mirror almost constantly.

“Go ahead and eat,” Terry said at length. “You need your strength, and besides, it'll settle your nerves.” She nodded at the Thermos and sandwich she had placed in the console between them. Their drinks were in the cup holders.

Serena twisted open the Thermos and poured some of the steaming-hot chicken soup into the cup. Then she sipped, and it soothed her stomach, eased the tension in her spine and even the ache in her heart a little bit, so she sipped some more. When she finished the first cup, she filled it a second time and downed that, as well.

And with every sip her anxiety eased a bit. She sank into her seat, let her head rest against the back as she swallowed the last of the soup and replaced the cup.

Her eyes felt heavy. She let them fall closed, then opened them abruptly as a wave of gentle relaxation washed through her brain.

Frowning, she looked toward Terry. “Was there…Did you put something in the soup?”

“Yes. Nothing harmful. But we're going to the Sisterhood's headquarters, and it's not permitted for outsiders to know where that is. No matter what. So you're going to sleep now. You need to anyway, Serena. And when you wake, you'll be in a beautiful, safe haven, surrounded by women who would give their lives for each other—and who would give their lives to help you find your baby, as well.”

There couldn't be any such place or any such people, Serena thought. No one could possibly care that much about someone they didn't even know.

Could they?

She let her heavy lids fall closed and prayed that they could.

W
hen Ethan left, I hurried to the front door to watch. Just to be sure he really was going and not playing some trick to catch me in the act. But he kept walking right along the meandering path and on to the stable.

I let the heavy curtain fall and turned, sweeping the living room with my sharper-than-human gaze. He was lying to me. I didn't know how I knew it, but I did. I wasn't sure what he was lying about—but there was something.

He was familiar to me somehow. Despite my amnesia, I was sure of it. It wasn't a memory, it was a sense. A feeling.

My senses were sharper than before. He'd told me as much. And there were new ones. I could speak without speaking, sense another's essence, almost like a scent, without smelling. I could feel the approach of danger. I could tell whether another being was human—or a vampire, like me.

With all that knowledge slowly making itself at home in my mind, how could I doubt this feeling of recognition when it came to him?

Or worse, the feeling of longing that had plagued me from the moment I set eyes on him. The longing to be closer. To touch. To feel those hands on my body, those lips on…

No. I wouldn't let those thoughts linger. He was lying to me. There was something more to all of this than he was telling me. And if I had to search this entire place, I would find out what it was.

I looked around the living room and whispered, “It's always best to begin where you are.” I vaguely remembered someone saying that phrase often, and how wise I thought it was.

A woman. A kind woman. A mortal.

I got a flash of short butterscotch hair that curled inward, just below the ear, and blue, twinkling eyes. The life in those eyes had always seemed out of place amid all the dull-eyed others.

What others?

I didn't know, but in my mind, I saw her lips move and heard her voice saying, “It's always best to start where you are.”

Callista.

The name floated into my mind as if from nowhere. Her name was Callista, and she wasn't like the others.

And that was all. Though I fought to grab hold of the memory and wrestle more from it, it was like trying to grab a handful of mist. And yet I was reassured even by that slightest touch of the familiar when all the world was foreign.

It emboldened me.

My memory wasn't gone forever. It was returning, albeit in pieces. And so I began searching Ethan's haven, hoping to find some clue to my past, to how I knew him, that might tease my wounded mind into telling me more
about who and what I was. But even as I did, a niggling worry crept into my brain, and I found myself moving to the window, parting the curtain and gazing out toward the stable. What if he didn't come back? What if he had abandoned me?

Just like before.

I frowned at the odd thought that had crept, unbidden, into my mind. And I was more certain than ever that I knew him. We had a history. God, why couldn't I remember?

21 Years Ago

Serena woke to find herself lying on a fainting couch in a large room that had to be part of a mansion. That was her first impression as she blinked, pressed a hand to her head and sat up slowly. She looked around and saw women standing in small groups of two or three in different parts of the room, all speaking softly, nodding sadly, sipping from china cups and nibbling on pastries. Terry was there.

One of the women noticed her and, meeting her eyes, said, “You're awake.”

And then, one by one, the others turned their attention to her. Serena noticed that some sets of eyes were damp and remembered Maureen being blown to bits, all because she'd tried to help.

“Hello, Serena,” one of the women said. She set down her teacup and made her way over, taking a seat beside Serena. She was beautiful, probably in her thirties, though she had an ageless look that could be very deceiving. All the women did. There was a wisdom in their eyes that suggested the toned bodies and unlined faces were less than the entire story.

The woman indicated the tea service that sat on a table across the room. China, a pink pattern that looked Asian. Another woman quickly poured a cup of tea.

“My name is Ginger. I'm the leader here. And I'm very sorry about your baby.”

Serena nodded, tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat. Kind hands pressed a warm cup into her own, and she took it and sipped. It was hot and sweet and creamy. That other woman had also brought over a plate of pastries.

“Didn't know if you take cream and sugar, but I figured you could use them after what you've been through.”

Serena sipped some more. “Thank you.” And then she looked at Ginger again. “I'm sorry about your…about Maureen.”

“Maureen wouldn't have a single regret, other than maybe not finding the bomb before it went off. I can promise you that. She lived for this work.”

Serena blinked and looked around the room. “This work…Which is…?” Then she licked her lips. “Do you know who took my baby? Or why?” And then, frowning, she added, “Terry said something about a rare antigen in her blood.”

“Yes,” Ginger said. “I suspect a government agency is behind this. One most people believe ceased to exist several years ago. It was known as the DPI, and it was a highly classified, top-secret subdivision of the CIA.”

Serena felt her eyes widen, and a million questions swirled in her mind. “What does it stand for? DPI?”

“The Division of Paranormal Investigations,” Ginger said.

Ginger was watching her closely, gauging her reac
tions, Serena thought. She clearly didn't want to upset her, but she wasn't coddling her, either. Not telling her she'd been through enough for one day or asking her to wait, but giving her direct answers to her questions.

“It's a bit of a misnomer, though,” Ginger went on. “Their interest in most areas of the paranormal is shallow, at best. Their real focus is on the Undead. Vampires.”

Serena blinked, and her gaze shifted from one woman to another, looking for the giveaway. This had to be a joke. But no one was smiling.

“Are you trying to tell me that my baby was a—”

“Oh, God, no,” Ginger said with a wave of her hand. “No, but as her mother, you do need to know about them. No, your baby was human through and through. But she's related to them, in a way. You see, every vampire in existence was born human, and every one of them was born with the Belladonna antigen. It's the thing that allows them to become vampires.”

Serena sat there, taking in this outrageous, impossible information.

“I know it's hard to believe, much less understand. But if you stay with us, you'll see proof soon enough. And I want you to know that even if you don't choose to join us, we'll try to find your baby for you. And we'll trust you to leave with information few outsiders have ever been allowed to possess. As the mother of one of the Chosen, you have a right to know.”

“The Chosen?”

“That's what those with the antigen are called. Vampires, by nature, sense them, and they're compelled to protect and watch over them. But lately, the Chosen have been vanishing. The vampire community is aware of it, too.
But so far, no one knows where the children are being taken or why.”

“But…you have your suspicions?” Serena asked.

“Yes, but we have no real information.”

“What did the DPI do before they were supposedly shut down or whatever?”

Ginger looked away, met Terry's eyes and licked her lips nervously. Serena knew that whatever was coming wasn't good.

“They were mostly interested in…research. Learning how vampires' bodies work, how to control them, how to eliminate them.”

A small cry flew from Serena's lips before she could bite it back. “You think my baby is a lab rat for some government experiment?”

“We have absolutely no evidence of that.”

“Oh God.” Serena lowered her face to her hands, sobbing so hard she thought her chest would tear in two.

The rest of the women left the room one by one. She heard them leaving, felt the emptiness when they had gone, then lifted her head and wiped her eyes. Terry and Ginger now sat on either side of her.

“I don't understand what it is you do here.”

“We're the Sisterhood of Athena, and we've existed for centuries. What we do—well, we watch. We observe. We try not to interfere unless it's absolutely necessary. Our stated mission is to protect the supernatural order. Which is really the natural order, simply the parts of it that few people know about.”

“You…protect the vampires?”

“They have a right to exist. They're a part of creation, just as we are, and their elimination would send things out
of balance, just as the extinction of any species would. We want to see them allowed to live naturally, evolving in whatever way they're supposed to, without interference from humans.”

“But…don't they…you know, feed on humans?”

“They're just like us, Serena,” Ginger said. “There are good ones and bad ones. When there is a bad one, though, the good ones tend to get rid of him. They feed on blood from blood banks or occasionally take criminals. Few ever kill a human being except in self-defense. They're just people.

“So we observe,” she went on. “And yes, when necessary, we protect. Even the vampires aren't supposed to know of our existence—that's how discreet we are.”

“What we do here is dangerous,” Terry said. “Working against government agencies, undercover assassins, vampire hunters who want to exterminate them all.”

“Not to mention,” Ginger added, “the vampires themselves. Sometimes when they catch on to our knowledge of them, catch one of us snooping around their secrets, they see us as a threat. It's not always possible to explain in time.”

Serena closed her eyes slowly. “This is a lot. It's just…a lot.”

“We know,” Ginger told her. “But that's about all the information I'm willing to give you for now. If you decide to stay, to join us, you'll be entrusted with more. A great deal more. Our history, case files from which you will study and learn, physical training, and mental training, as well. But all of that is for later. And you don't have to make any decisions right now. Stay with us for a few days. Recover your strength. We'll begin searching for
clues about your baby. Maybe she'll be the one who leads us to the rest of the missing Chosen.”

“Yes,” Terry said. “Just be our guest and relax. If you want to go back to your old life in a few days, that's fine. We'll trust you to keep your knowledge of us secret. We know you will, because we're the only hope you have of finding her.”

Serena nodded. “You're right about that. I wouldn't betray your secrets. But I don't need a few days to think about it.”

“Careful, Serena,” Ginger said. “This is not a decision that can be undone. If you join this sisterhood, you join for good. There's no going back to your old life.”

“I have no life to go back to. All I had was my baby. And I'll devote the rest of my life to searching for her and making those who took her pay—and making sure they can't keep doing this to women like me, to babies like mine.”

Ginger slid a look at Terry, who shrugged.

“I'm sure,” Serena said, looking from one to the other. “I want to join the Sisterhood of Athena.”

Ginger nodded. “So be it, then. I'll make arrangements for the dedication ceremony. But you'll still need a few days to recover, and to prepare. There are lessons, meditations. But tomorrow is soon enough to begin.” She turned to the other woman.

“Terry, why don't you show our new sister to her rooms now?”

The Present

Ethan opened the rear door of the stable, and it swung wide onto a grassy moonlit meadow, five acres, enclosed
by a white wooden fence that seemed to rise and fall with every curve of the ground. A bubbling stream bisected the meadow, providing a supply of fresh water. And beyond the meadow, the trees began, then thickened into a full-blown forest that stretched all the way to the mountains that formed a backdrop to the view.

He loved it here.

He went back inside and opened first one stall, then the other. His companions knew without being told that it was their time to romp, and they trotted out of their stalls and straight through the open back door, barely pausing long enough to accept Ethan's strokes as they went.

Ethan watched them as they moved. The second they emerged from the building, they tossed their manes and cut loose into a full gallop, whinnying in joy as they raced into the night.

No one liked being shut in. Being captive. Even knowing they would be released each night, the horses always reacted as if they'd been locked up for years and were just catching their first taste of freedom.

They felt, he thought, the way he'd felt when he'd escaped from The Farm. The way he still felt, every single evening, when the sun set and he awoke to freedom.