Tentyrian Legacy (42 page)

“That’s when Maximos and the Brothers drove
up. They put me into their truck and asked me if I knew where the
children were taken. I told them it was to Adi Quala near the
Ethiopian border. It was known as a hotspot for rebel soldiers. The
Brothers had never been there before, so they couldn’t shift. We
drove for hours, looking for the soldiers and their encampment. I
knew I was going to die. I was beyond medical help, and I had lost
too much blood. But I wouldn’t let the Brothers leave me behind. I
needed to find my kids. And when we found them, Maximos made sure
those bastards regretted what they had done. The Brothers killed
the guerilla soldiers, at least seventy of them, and they brought
the children home safe.

“It turned out the soldiers were endorsing
one politician who, if he came to power according to Hathor’s
premonition, would be responsible for the next war with Ethiopia.
So the Brotherhood did what they had pledged to avoid. They moved
to change the future and killed the politician who was destined to
become a despot, or so they thought. The Brothers helped put in
place an opposing candidate. That someone is still in power today
since he was elected in ’93. And that war, it still ended up
happening, just a few years later than predicted. And it lasted for
exactly two years. Who is to say if more lives were saved than
lost?”

“So you are saying their intervention did
nothing?” I ask with a pit in my throat.

“We saved the children. But close to one
hundred thousand people died in the war we failed to prevent. You
can’t always stop fate.”

“So we’re all going to die then?” I ask. Ryan
stops and stares at me intently.

“No, Hathor saw it was possible to stop the
Event, as long as we have you and the others. I was wrong to be so
harsh. I just wanted you to realize that what we do as a
Brotherhood is to save humans. It’s why we get up and fight every
day and night. This is a difficult task. I think I just expected
you to embrace your destiny rather than fight it.” We keep walking,
and I ponder Ryan’s words. Had I judged the Brotherhood too
harshly?

“Did you know what you were getting yourself
into when you were turned?” I ask.

“Not exactly. But I knew Maximos was a good
man . . . and the life he offered me was better than none at all.
By joining him, I’ve been able to continue my good works, just in a
different fashion.”

“I’ll say. Using a gun is a far cry from
wielding a piece of chalk in a classroom,” I point out as I eye the
intimidating weapon holstered on his side.

“This isn’t just any gun,” Ryan says
ominously as he traces the weapon’s outline with his hand. “The
bullets are laced with cyanide. It helps slow the Subordinates
down. But whereas one bullet will kill a human, it can take up to
ten just to bring a Subordinate to his knees. I’ll take you to the
shooting range to practice sometime. You should know how to defend
yourself . . . although I know you have some tricks up your
sleeve.”

I give him a hesitant smile, thinking back to
our first meeting in the orchard. We may have gotten off to a bad
start. He actually seems like a good guy and fiercely loyal once
you get past the chill of his attitude.

“I bet I can beat you back to the villa,” I
venture. “I’d like to see you try, little one.”

“Why do you call me that?”

“Because when I first saw you, you looked so
small and helpless.” “Hmm, really?”

With that, my legs take off. The energy
inside of me explodes, like the burst of a starting bell at a horse
race. The orchard trees blur like a Monet landscape, and the earthy
air fills my lungs, urging me to go faster. I can feel my feet on
the soil, but it feels like I’m flying, only touching the ground
every dozen yards or so. This is what it feels like to be free.
When I run now, it’s completely different from working out as a
human. The dogged burn I used to feel in my lungs and body is gone.
Running now is as easy breathing. This is the natural state my body
wants to be in. But I can feel myself yearning for a hunt. To
chase. To sink my fangs into flesh. To taste the reward of hot
blood.

I land on the pavilion floor in a crouch,
minutes before Ryan arrives. As I stand up from my catlike
position, I notice my fangs are out. I run my tongue along the
sharp surface and take a deep breath in, willing them to retract.
It’s a struggle to get them to obey. I want to hunt and kill. Ryan
stops up short of the fountain seconds later, looking composed as
ever. Meanwhile, I feel like a caged animal that’s just been let
out.

“What’s wrong, Arianna?” he asks, concerned.
I look at him wild eyed. My throat is on fire.

“I’m thirsty.”

“That was probably your first run, I take
it?” I nod in shamed acknowledgment. “Let’s get you a drink, come
on.” Ryan tugs me along inside, past the sliding doors. Rather than
calling for Shashandra or taking me to the kitchen, he leads me
toward the living room bookcase and pushes his shoulder against the
far right shelving unit.

“You’re lucky, you know,” says Ryan as he
grunts with effort. “The Turn is much harder for us who are not
naturally born Tentyrians. You have a self-control that can take
years for us to master. I wasn’t allowed to leave this compound for
twenty-two months, most of which I spent locked in a padded room
monitored by Maximos. Even though Maximos was my maker and could
control me, I was so thirsty I’d have drank his blood if he’d let
me.”

Considering I drank Maximos’ blood last
night, I don’t think I’m necessarily a model of self-control. But I
keep that to myself. With one final push, the wall shifts inward
with a scraping noise that grates on my sensitive ears. A
passageway and spiral staircase leading downward is revealed.
Fluorescent lights illuminate the long dark passageway, but I don’t
need the aid of artificial light with my newfound vision.

“This is the way to the Control Room and
lab,” say Ryan, “for those of us who can’t shift.” Ryan punches a
code into a keypad that prohibits entrance. The keypad beeps in
acknowledgment, and the door slides open with a sucking whoosh.
“Follow me,” he orders as we cross in to what I recognize as
Evander’s lab.

I haven’t been in here since I woke up on the
table with an IV in my arm and feeling like I was about to have a
heart attack. The room is filled with test tubes, microscopes,
centrifuges, and refrigerators. The Brotherhood certainly has a
well-equipped operation. I can only assume businesses like Leo
Capital help fund this. Ryan quickly opens up one of five
stainless-steel fridges and pulls out a plastic bag of blood from a
drawer. He tosses it to me like a beanbag. I catch it and stare at
the red liquid inside. It’s been labeled “B–” in black Sharpie.

“Drink up, little one. It will help.” I stare
at him self-consciously, and I look around for a cup.

“How should I drink this?”

“Bite in and suck. Don’t be embarrassed. This
is like sipping tea compared to a real hunt. Come on, I have to get
back,” he urges.

We head back into the Control Room and sit
down next to each other in front of the main computer monitor where
Aristos was working earlier. Ryan presses his finger into his ear
and speaks into the tiny voice-activated microphone clipped to his
black T-shirt. “All teams, report your positions.” He listens
intently and nods. I bite into the plastic bag, my fangs slicing
through effortlessly. I purse my lips to the puncture and suck out
the liquid like a juice box. It tastes dull and cold, but I drink
the blood eagerly. The bonfire that began to rage in my throat
during our race is now tempered to a lingering smoke. The wildness
that was threatening to claw its way out of me feels calmer.

“Are they okay?” I ask while draining the
last remnants of the bag. “Yes, they are moving into position. Look
here,” he states as he points to the screen, where I see a series
of blue dots within six different video frames. Each frame has its
own label: Alpha, Beta, Delta, Omega, and Phi. “The blue dots are
the Brothers. Their body armor contains tracking devices. We’re
still in a holding pattern.”

“Can you tell if any of the Dark Coven or
their Subordinates are near?”

“It looks like there are mostly humans within
the buildings, but some of the Brothers have sightings of
Subordinates.” Ryan’s fingers tap rapidly on the keyboard, and he
brings up a picture on an adjacent monitor. “I want to show you
what the Dark Coven looks like, so you can be prepared.” The grainy
photo is black and white, and the resolution is low. But one person
in the image makes my breath catch. It’s the man from my dream . .
.

“Who is that?” I ask, pointing to the man
sitting at the center of the elegant dining table in the photo. My
voice is quivering.

“Stavros—the mastermind himself. This was
taken about ten years ago through a fluke surveillance operation at
a restaurant where we suspected a weapons’ transaction was about to
take place between a Saudi prince and a US government official on
the sly. We had no idea it was connected to the Dark Coven. Low and
behold, we find these three.” I can hear Ryan grinding his teeth
together.

Ryan points to Stavros and his two companions
sitting to his left and right. The woman to his left is stunning.
“That is Aglaia,” he explains. Her short bob has an effortless sexy
bed head look with its tousled layers. Her rounded chin and cheeks
have a sweet quality, only to be offset by her darkened lips and
ample bosom accentuated by a sleeveless cocktail dress. “Don’t be
deceived. She is lethal. When her sister was alive, those two
decimated many a village, leaving behind drained corpses scorched
by fire. They were called the Fire Twins.”

“I take it they could somehow use fire?”

“Yes, and Aglaia still can. She’ll burn you
alive with the snap of her fingers, given the chance.”

“What happened to the sister?” I ask.

“Asia died in World War II at the hands of
the Führer’s sick doctors in their search for Aryan perfection and
God knows what else. As far as we know, Asia was experimented on
and tortured. They documented what they did to her, contributing to
the limited knowledge humans have of our kind. I wasn’t with the
Brothers then, but Maximos and Aristos managed to track down the
files the Nazis kept and destroyed them. We will never work with
the Dark Coven, but it is imperative we all keep our existence
hidden.”

“And what about him?” I point to the
golden-haired man in mid laugh, offering a toast to the Middle
Eastern gentleman across the table. “That’s Calix. He may look like
a playboy, but don’t let his tailored suits and baby blues fool
you. He is just as dangerous.”

“Maximos told me he has some type of mind
control power?”

“That’s right. He’ll burrow his way through
your mind and make you think you’ve experienced some of the most
awful things you can imagine.” Ryan’s voice drops an octave. “There
was one Brother who was ambushed many years back. Backup didn’t
come in time, and a group of Subordinates managed to kidnap him.
About a month later, he was dumped on the steps of our old safe
house in Chicago. He had been convinced that Maximos skinned alive
his human family, raped his mother and sister, and mercilessly fed
off them. The Dark Coven tortured him into revealing the safe house
location, and he was brainwashed to murder us. Rehabilitating him
didn’t work, and he had to be eliminated.”

“You killed one of your own?” I ask in
disbelief.

“He wasn’t one of us anymore, Arianna,” Ryan
says roughly. “He tried to kill us at every turn. Keeping him
locked in a cage for life wouldn’t have been fair.”

“I suppose you’re right . . . When this
picture was taken, why couldn’t you have killed the Dark
Coven?”

“We tried. The Brothers were prepared to blow
up the entire restaurant and accept the human casualties. But they
shifted out before we could detonate the bomb. The ability to shift
can make you practically untouchable. It’s easy enough to kill one
of their bloodsucking puppets. But getting to the Dark Coven is an
entirely different matter.” I can hear the anger in his voice,
which turns a fraction hopeful. “You should be able to shift,
though. It will undoubtedly help our efforts. I understand you have
the power to read minds, too. Can you do anything else?”

“No,” I say automatically. “And I don’t think
I can shift. I’ve tried.” If I dreamt of Stavros, does that mean
I’m capable of premonitions like Hathor? I’m torn if I should tell
Ryan that I think I recognize Stavros. Then again, the photo isn’t
very clear. Maybe I only think he looks familiar and that I’ve seen
that hooked nose and lanky frame before . . . “Teams, ten minutes
until deployment,” Ryan commands as he presses the control on his
earpiece again. Please find Laura and Raad,

I pray silently

“Ryan, are there any Brothers looking out for
my parents? I meant to ask Maximos earlier, but I didn’t get the
opportunity. Do you know if they are safe?” Ryan shifts his gaze
swiftly from the computer screen to me.