Blood Inheritance (The Lazarus Hunter Series Book 1)

by Cas Martin

  'What shall I do about this?' Elizabeth asked, pointing at the disk that lay between them.

  'Keep it safe. Your father found it in human hands. It must stay that way. The temptation would be far too great for them'

  'Will you keep it?' Elizabeth couldn't help but worry about what he'd said earlier. Until she understood how volunteering her blood to Monica had changed things, she didn't want to take the chance.

  'Excuse me?'

  'I think you should keep it.'

  'But your father found it. He was the leader in this fight and you are about to take his place. It's yours now.'

  'It doesn't belong to me. It doesn't belong to any of us. Ivan was not the only one who knew about this. He was not the only one prepared to kill for it. You've dropped off the radar. I didn't even know of your existence until an hour ago. It would be better with you. Keep it hidden. Just make sure that if anything happens to you, I will know where to find it. I don't know how you would do that, and I don't really care. I don't want to be responsible for it.'

  'I do trust that you would keep it safe, you know.'

  'I don't. Not yet. Maybe one day, but I'm still learning. Plus I'm the first place they're going to look. I'm the obvious answer. It would be better if they had no chance of finding it when they came to me.'

  'Are you sure?'

  'Yes. I think I am. I've spent a lot of time with Monica Carletto and the members of her family. If she knew that I had the object then I couldn't trust her not to be tempted. It would destroy any chance of an alliance we have.'

  'Very well. I will devise a scheme in the event of my untimely demise. I'm glad you've made this decision. It is a wise one. And in return, I have this for you.'

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. Elizabeth felt her heart constrict as she glimpsed the handwriting on the front. He placed it on the table next to the bronze disk and looked at her.

  'There was never going to be a good time to give you this. I wasn't even sure that today was going to be the right day, but I brought it with me just in case.'

  'From my father?' It was a question, but she already knew the answer.

  'Yes. He gave it to me about five years ago. About the time he started to question whether the Unifying Object was really a myth.'

  'What did he say when he gave it to you?'

  'We were in London, in a place not dissimilar to this. We were drinking coffee and formulating the plan that would eventually lead to us working separately on our own projects. Towards the end of the lunch, when we had moved onto more generic areas of conversation, he took this out of his pocket and gave it to me.'

  'Didn't that strike you as being a bit odd?'

  'Of course it did. My first thought was that he was in some immediate danger. Then my second was that he was sick. I had all sorts of visions of some terminal illness, but he quickly reassured me that was not the case. He said, quite simply, that you were an adult now. That he had finally faced up to the possibility that one day you could get involved. He admitted it was something he had put off thinking about for most of his life. But if something happened to him then you would have to make a decision on your own. He wanted to be able to help you with that decision.'

  'Why didn't you find me and give this to me when he died?' Elizabeth was both sad and angry. There had been so many struggles, so much pain, in those early days. She would gladly have taken anything that would help ease the sorrow and confusion.

  'Your father made it quite clear that I didn't have to. He believed the right time would make itself known. I was to keep it safe until our paths crossed. Please, don't be upset.'

  'I'm sorry, this is a lot to take in. It's been an emotional week.' Elizabeth could feel herself slumping in the chair as the events began to catch up with her. 'I'm not sure I feel ready to open this now. I think I might need some time to process this.'

  'You can read it whenever you choose. That doesn't have to be today, or even this week, or month, or year. But know that when you are ready, at least it will be there for you.'

  'Thank you.'

  'Really, it is my pleasure to be able to do this for you. I don't think you fully realise how close we came to upsetting a balance that has been in place for millennia. We managed to avert it, but we wouldn't have done it without your help. It is over, for now. I received word this morning that Ivan was killed in a duel. An archaic event, if I do say so myself.'

  'Really?' Elizabeth tried to sound as innocent as possible.

  'Oh yes. In fact, I would even go so far as to say that the only people who would even consider such a thing would be someone who specialised in ancient vampire lore.'

  'I can see how that would seem a probability.' Elizabeth smiled.

  'More an observation. I'm not going to ponder any more on his sudden demise. I just hope that other people with vested interests don't probe too deeply.' There was a warning to his tone, completely different from how he spoken before. Then, as quickly as the darkness appeared, it vanished. 'Well, I really must go. I have some things I need to attend to. I would normally be going for a run right about now, but I thought I deserved a day off.'

  Jack stood up and picked up the disc in front of him. 'I promise you I'll take good care of this.' He reached into a pocket and pulled out a card. 'This is my number. You can call me if you need anything. Just because you don't hear from me doesn't mean I won't be there. In some ways I hope I won't have to see you again for a long time. It would be bad news for us if we have to meet again under such circumstances.'

  'It was nice to meet you,' Elizabeth turned the card over in her hands to find that there was simply a number on it, no name or other identifying features. Jack was serious when he said that he was going to stay underground.

  You too. Good luck. And remember, your father loved you very much.'

  The two awkwardly shook hands, then Elizabeth sat back down while Jack made his way out of the coffee shop. She looked at her father's letter, the envelope faded with age, her name on the front. Nothing else. She felt a tear starting to form again and quickly wiped it away. Things had been so overwhelming, physically and mentally, that part of her wanted to act like a little girl and go home to bed. Curl up under the covers and pretend none of this was happening.

  She looked at her watch and decided that it was time to head back to the hotel. Time to think about going home.

  Her work here was done.

  64

  'I feel very underdressed,' said Elizabeth as the waiter led them to their table.

  'Well,' replied Monica with a smile, 'I could hardly let you return to England without showing you some of the finer things we have to offer, could I?'

  'It's not really what I anticipated when I packed.' She looked down at her simple outfit. It was positively plain in comparison to Monica's stunning little black number.

  'It is very exclusive, I admit.' Monica looked around her as they sat down. 'From here I can see at least four A list celebrities and a couple of people who are very big players in government. But with that comes discreet, and that was more what I was aiming for.'

  'Ashamed of me now?' She said it with a smile to take the sting out of her words.

  'Not at all. But I think it's in our best interests not to flaunt this meeting. I get the feeling people are watching my every move, waiting for me to trip up and give myself away.'

  'It's going to take a long time for things to settle down. People are bound to be less trusting than they were before.'

  'They weren't very trusting to begin with. Some of the elders believe that any communication between you and I should stop.'

  'And what do you think?' Elizabeth felt a strange sadness descend at the prospect. She was the one who was leaving, but at least that was her choice. She hated that Monica might be forced to bend to the will of others for the sake of her family.

  'I think I should certainly give them the impression that it's the case. Besides, you're returning to England, so there is no need for our paths
to cross. Except maybe if I come over on business, but that is an entirely different set of circumstances. Regardless of what we're going to do, or make people think we are going to do, I didn't want you go home without properly saying goodbye.'

  'I appreciate it, but I should be thanking you, not the other way around.'

  'Not at all. I couldn't have done it without you and your friends. So this meal is definitely on me.'

  'We’ll call it even. But I'll still let you pay for dinner. There's no way I could afford to pay the bill in this place.'

  'It is a little bit pricey, but one of the perks of the job is that I can get away with it.'

  'So, tonight is still business?'

  'A combination of business and pleasure I think.' Monica smiled and looked away.

  They made polite conversation while the waiter hovered around them taking their orders and pouring the drinks. When he left, Monica took a sip of wine and gave a small smile. 'I spoke to Elverez this morning,' she began.

  'How is he?'

  'Still concerned, but less so than he was. He commented again on how well I was looking, all things considered.'

  'You do seem completely recovered.' It was hard to believe that she had been so badly beaten just days before. Elizabeth could see her olive skin bore hardly any makeup. She wasn't trying to hide anything.

  'I am. On the outside at least. Emotionally, I have to carry on being two separate people. I know that if I didn't have Dennis I would have already fallen apart. He sends you his best wishes by the way.'

  'That's very sweet of him. And something that I wouldn't have expected when I first met him. So, how have you been coping? Is anyone giving you a hard time still?' Elizabeth took a sip of her drink.

  'I've been to a Council of Elders meeting since, and no one was openly hostile. They seemed slightly more willing to accept me now their ringleader is gone. Which doesn't surprise me, really. It's always easier to cause trouble when you have someone else to hide behind. Now he's gone, I'm not sure any of them have the balls to be openly against me. Which suits me just fine. The longer I'm allowed to go unchallenged, the more chance I have of winning them over and getting the respect a leader doesn't normally have to fight for. I'm up for the challenge.'

  'You did the right thing. You do know that, don't you?'

  'I do.'

  'Doesn't make it any easier though does it?'

  'Is it for you?' Monica deflected.

  'Not really. We both have our fair share of blood on our hands.' Elizabeth knew the closer she got to leaving the closer she would get to thinking about David. 'All the lines I once thought were so clear have become blurred.'

  'I'm glad they did. I've enjoyed being on the same side. And if it helps, you were on the right side of the fight. We both were. So we'll have dinner, we'll process and we'll learn and grow. Even in this place it will cost less than therapy.'

  'Sounds like a plan to me.'

  The conversation ended briefly as their food arrived, and Elizabeth almost swooned at the smell. This was a once in a lifetime treat, and she couldn't help but feel a little jealous that Monica could do this whenever she wanted. 'This looks delicious.'

  'I hope it tastes as good as it looks,' agreed Monica, grabbing a fork and tucking in.

  'Better than your other meal of choice?' Elizabeth smiled, unable to resist. Common sense told her not to go there, but since when had she listened to that lately?

  'Would you settle for me just saying it's different? Besides, my meal of choice comes in different forms, and some are decidedly better than others.' She looked Elizabeth directly in the eye, smiling as she turned the tables.

  'Touché,' said Elizabeth, trying not to squirm under Monica's gaze. She had successfully managed to put the thought of the bite out of her head for the past twenty four hours, and now the image returned with full force. She hoped her blushing wasn't as obvious in the soft lighting.

  'I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. Please, feel free to change the subject before we both get any more uncomfortable.'

  'Someone gave me a letter from my father yesterday.' Elizabeth hadn't intended to mention it, but it was the first thing she thought of.

  'Oh?'

  'I made a promise that I wouldn't say anything about the messenger. I hope you understand.'

  'I do. But the letter? Is that up for discussion?'

  'It is, but I can't tell you anything about it because I haven't opened it yet.'

  'Why? I would have thought you would be dying to.'

  'So would I. If you had told me about it before, I would have put money on me opening it straight away. But now I actually have it, I've been trying to wait for the right time.'

  'Is there ever a right time at all for this kind of thing?'

  'I'm not sure that there is. Part of me was hoping I would get a sign or something. Sounds crazy when I actually say it out loud.'

  'No, I think it makes complete sense.'

  'It's like it's the last part of him that I'm going to get. I don't want that to be over.'

  'Do you have any idea what it could say?'

  'Not a clue. I've been told that it's about five years old, so who knows what he was thinking at the time. It's so long ago. What if he knew all this was coming?' The thought terrified her in many ways.

  'It could be completely unrelated to us, to what he did. It could just be a personal message to you.'

  'I'm not sure if that would be easier or harder.'

  'I can imagine.' They both knew she couldn't, but Elizabeth appreciated the fact she was trying.

  'I'll probably wait until I'm back in England. Perhaps I'll read it in his study or something. That makes it more likely to turn me into a blubbering wreck, but I keep thinking I'll get more of a feel for him there than anywhere else.' Elizabeth took another forkful of food, trying to think of a way to steer the conversation back onto safer ground. They were supposed to be enjoying the evening, not making it distressing. 'So, when I leave for England will you keep an eye on Garth for me?' she asked, only half jokingly.

  'Of course I will. I doubt he needs me to. In some ways, I hope that our paths don't actually cross. But if he wants my help and it's something that I can do, then I will do it. You can be sure of that.'

  'Thanks. I appreciate it.'

  'Does that mean you don't see yourself coming back here again soon?'

  'Not really. I mean, I don't have any plans to. I need to rebuild my life back home in the same way that you need to rebuild yours over here.' Elizabeth knew that it was true, but the pang of impending loneliness still welled up inside of her.

  'Is it strange that I'm going to miss you? I mean, I hardly know you.'

  'When two people go through something extreme together, it can bond them in a way that would take years of normal time. Plus, you know, we shared something else too.' Elizabeth gestured at her neck. 'That's got to count for something too, right?'

  'Is that one of the reasons that you're so determined to leave so quickly? I wouldn't blame you if it was.' In the darkness, Elizabeth thought she saw a look of shame on Monica's face. She wished she could dismiss it out of politeness, but she was not going to start lying now. Monica deserved better than that.

  'It's a factor. I spoke to someone who was adamant that there was a line that you crossed once it happened. A line that meant you could never be on an equal footing with the person that did it to you. It's been playing on my mind.' It felt better for getting it out in the open. Jack's words had been going around her head, so certain. Monica had a right to defend herself against the assumption.

  'Do you feel like that's the case? Sitting here now, do you feel like I have some kind of power over you?' Monica sounded a little too defensive.

  'Not directly, no. I mean, I don't feel like you are going to attempt to bend me to your will and use me in whatever way you want. I don't feel like you would do that. But that doesn't mean that you couldn't do that. Or if I would be able to stop you.'

  'Wouldn't be able to, or wo
uldn't want to?' The question was a direct hit.

  'Now can you see why I need to get away?'

  'I do. I'm sorry if it's made you feel uncomfortable. That was never my intention.'

  'Perhaps it's the fact that it doesn't feel as uncomfortable as it should that I'm more concerned about. Maybe we should stop talking about this now. Next time I see you, hopefully I'll understand what's going on inside my own head and I'll be able to tell you. For now, let's just enjoy dinner together one last time.'

  Monica nodded and took another bite of her food. Elizabeth did the same, but something had changed. She'd wanted to give Monica the opportunity to defend herself, but somehow she'd ended up with more questions than answers.

  Questions she was too afraid to ask.

  65

  As the plane touched down on the runway, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel she had already arrived home. There was something so comforting and familiar about the grey skies and the rain after the sunshine of the past two weeks. She knew it would still be another three hours before she actually walked through the door and sat down on her own sofa, but that didn't seem like a bad thing. She was just happy everything was finally over.

  In her coat pocket was the letter from her father. She hadn't even trusted herself to put it in her bag in the overhead locker. On the long flight back she had plenty of time to mull it over, looking at the possibilities from every angle. She still hadn't opened it, even when there was a moment of turbulence and it crossed her mind that it could be the last chance she would get.

  Now, as they taxied along the runway to the gate, she made up her mind. She would get home, take off her shoes, make a cup of coffee, then take a bath to soak off the traveller's scum that coated every inch of her skin. Once she was clean, she was going to sit in her father's study and read the letter. She was going to do it quickly and ruthlessly, like tearing off a plaster. She still had no idea what she would find, but she knew that she was ready.

  It was eight-thirty by the time she sat down on the comfy chair in her father's study. It was warm in there. Safe somehow.