by Aliya DalRae
“Well, thanks for sharing this with me. I know it must be hard for you and Harrier, to think that your own mother could be so awful.”
Rachel laughed and Harrier made that noise again. “Oh, Jessica, neither of us have any misconception about our mother’s capability for cruelty. If she could treat her son the way she did, her own flesh and blood? It’s not much of a leap to believe she would try to manufacture the destruction of an entire race.”
“Still,” I frowned, “I am sorry.”
“There’s more,” Harrier said from his corner in the shadows. “Tell her, Rachel.”
Rachel sighed, but nodded and said, “Harrier’s right. There is more. Our mother’s spitefulness grew after the nobles rejected Rebecca and me. Honestly, she became impossible to live with, what with her hatred and bigotry against anyone who wasn’t pure blood.”
“Even after you and your sister were rejected, she still thought the nobles were better?” I couldn’t believe it.
“Even after.” Rachel said. “Finally, Rebecca’d reached her limit, and she ran away. She was younger than me, impetuous, and had fallen in love with a human boy. She knew our mother would never accept him, and so one night she simply vanished. Mother was inconsolable. To this day she probably blames the Primeval for Rebecca’s disappearance, but no. Our sister simply hated our mother, and our life, that much.
“I was no different. However, being the only child left I received my mother’s full focus. It was nearly impossible to get out from under her scrutiny. I suffered many years longer than our sister, but eventually I was able to run as well. I came to America where I met a wonderful man, a human no less, and we lived a good life together.”
“Lived?” I asked. “You mean he died? Why didn’t you turn him so you could be together forever?”
Rachel looked at me a long time before answering. “He didn’t want to be turned. You understand that, don’t you Jessica?” I nodded and she continued. “He knew what I was, and how I lived, and though he truly loved me, he did not want to give up his mortality. He said he was born with an expiration date, and if I didn’t mind, he’d like to keep it. I did mind, of course, but I respected him too much to take that away from him. He lived a good, long life, well into his nineties. When he passed away, I vowed I would never love another human. And, as decent Vampires are in short supply in Detroit, I have remained happily unattached.”
I looked at Harrier, who was staring at his sister, his big arms folded across his chest, his foot tapping in impatience. I was feeling a bit of that myself. While everything Rachel had shared was quite tragic, for the most part it was the past, nothing that would affect me or cause them to sport those worried frowns all day. I said as much, which made Harrier laugh.
“I’m getting there,” Rachel frowned at Harrier, and returned her attention to me.
“Many years after arriving in the States my sister found me. She had been gallivanting across the world, consorting with humans. I think it was her way of thumbing her nose both at my mother, and the establishment in general.
“When she arrived on my doorstep, she had a child in her arms. A baby girl called Liza. Apparently, Rebecca was too much of a free spirit to be tied down with the likes of a child. Matthew and I had been unable to conceive, so when she offered to let us raise the girl, I begged my husband to agree. Of course, he did. He rarely denied me anything, and we raised Liza as our own. Unfortunately, she had a bit of her mother’s wildness in her, and when she was old enough to be on her own she went off to travel the world.
“We would see her on occasion, but for the most part she was out of our lives. When her daughter was born she was in Europe, or Africa maybe, I don’t remember. I never had occasion to meet the child until recently. I learned that she had been brought to America where she was abandoned in an orphanage to be raised by strangers. Liza knew I would have taken her in—Matthew had passed years before—but rather than bring her to me, she dumped her off like so much rubbish.”
Rachel’s voice broke with emotion, and a single bloody tear threatened in the corner of her eye. I felt bad for her, really, but I still had no idea what this had to do with me.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “It must have really hurt to find out you had family out there you could have helped.”
“Yes,” Rachel cleared her throat and dabbed her eye with an extra napkin from my dinner. “Yes it did. More than you know.”
I glanced over at Harrier, who had jerked himself away from the wall and was now standing at full alert. Rachel’s eyes widened, and she glanced back at him. After sharing that brief look, Harrier left the room.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. That “holy shit” look they shared had me on guard in an instant.
“Nothing, dear. Nothing is wrong, but I need to tell you the rest. We’re about to have company and you need to hear this before they come in.”
Alrighty then…
“When Harrier contacted me last week it was quite a shock. As I said, I hadn’t heard from him in ages, so when he called to say he was coming to Detroit I was thrilled. I’d searched for him off and on throughout the years, but even with the Undernet, he was impossible to locate. So when he said he was coming to get me, I packed a bag.
“When he arrived, I met him at the airport. It was the middle of the day, and I don’t have to tell you the coordination that involved. We managed it, though, and I joined him on his airplane where he informed me that he’d been to see our mother.”
“What?”
“My reaction, exactly,” Rachel said dryly. “It was Legion business, about your Raven, so she was obligated to receive him, to answer his questions. Although to say she was frigid about it would be an understatement.
“After your reaction to taking Raven’s blood, Harrier was concerned, but seeing our mother again struck a note with him. She reminded him very much of someone he had recently met. He asked her about Rebecca and me, if she knew where we were, and if we had any children.”
“Why would he ask about your children?” That seemed like a strange question for Harrier to ask of a mother who hated her kids.
“When you found yourself craving Raven’s blood you asked Harrier if you could be turned into a Vampire,” she said, avoiding my question.
“Right, and he told me emphatically that I could not.” I felt like a pod of dolphins were practicing their Sea World act in my stomach, and that burger was dangerously close to making an encore appearance. I didn’t like the direction this was going. At. All.
“And that’s true,” Rachel said, “but…”
“So? No buts. I can’t be turned. The end.”
“Well, it would be the end if there were no more to it.”
“What else can there be?” Rachel was wringing her hands again, and I was holding my breath when she responded.
“Jessica, you can’t be turned Vampire, because you were born Vampire.”
Chapter
One Hundred Twenty-Five
H arrier’s impatience with Rachel was reaching critical mass, and he wished she would get to the point. Who knew that his sister was such a weaver of tales? If he had been delivering the news it would have been all, “Jessica, sorry kid, but you’re descended from a line of powerful Vampires and Seers. When Raven gave you his blood not once, but twice, it awakened a part of you that has lain dormant since your birth. If he had stopped at once, you probably would never have noticed. But it looks like the more blood you drink, the more of that side of you sits up and takes notice.”
But no, Rachel had to start at the beginning. He was surprised she didn’t go all the way back to the Big Bang.
Now Harrier was playing tour guide to the Danes to give Rachel the privacy she needed to break the news to Jessica. At the rate she was going, he’d have to keep this act up for another hour.
And the wolf was getting impatient.
Harrier showed them the Club, the War Room, and was about to take them on a tour of the grounds when he felt that strange p
ull of emotion that meant one of his family was in distress. Until recently, he hadn’t experienced that particular sensation since he was a child. Not since he’d hopped the boat for the New World, and left his family thousands of miles behind. When Jessica showed up with all of her emotional ups and downs, it really threw him. It had been so long since he’d felt it that he thought he was going mad.
And that pissed him off. He didn’t like being confused or out of control, and that’s what he was around Jessica. She made him feel protective, defensive and whenever he saw her with that animal, Raven, he wanted to rip somebody’s lungs out.
When he paid his call on Victoria he took advantage of the moment with a few questions of his own. He had to convince his mother that the Legion wanted to know, but he didn’t mind the white lie. He wouldn’t get another chance to ask, and he needed the answers. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, he’d thought, and Mason would understand if it came back to bite Harrier in the ass. So far it hadn’t.
Once he had Rachel on the plane they contacted Merlin who was able to track the movements of Rebecca’s daughter, Liza. Like her mother, Liza was a flake, and when she’d had a baby of her own, she’d followed her mother’s path and abandoned the child.
And that child was standing next to Harrier right now in the form of Margaret Dane, who apparently was not a Werewolf as so many assumed. Christ, could it get any more complicated?
“I think you’ll be interested in the grounds,” Harrier heard himself saying, and cringed. He felt like a three hundred and ten pound Vanna White.
“I think we would be interested in seeing our daughter,” Patrick Dane snarled, and Maggie put a hand on his arm to quiet him.
That sensation came again, the strongest one yet. So strong, in fact, that Harrier staggered. Looked like Rachel had reached the good part.
“I hear you,” Harrier said, righting himself. With the apparent “all clear” pounding in his chest, he turned the Danes around and headed back to the infirmary.
“Right this way.”
Chapter
One Hundred Twenty-Six
N o. No no no no no no no! I was not hearing this correctly. There was no way I was a Vampire. Rachel was going on and on about blood lines and human paternity, and offspring who thought they were human. Latent genes and triggers, but the bottom line, what she was saying, was that my mother was one quarter Vampire, which made me an eighth Vampire. Something I could have gone my whole life never knowing, had I not hooked up with Raven, drank his blood, and awakened my Vampirehood and everything that went along with it.
The blood lust, the sun aversion—I love the sun. I just thought I was pale, and that the burn and peel thing was something pale people had to deal with. Pale human people.
I was in mid-meltdown when the progenitor of foul genes walked into my room, Werewolf king at her side.
The sight of them standing there looking all concerned was more than I could handle. I ripped the IV needle from my hand, scrambled with the blankets and remembered too late that I was still in that damned hospital gown. Fuck it. I had to leave. Had to get away.
“Where are my clothes?” I shouted at Rachel. She looked miserable. I’m sure it wasn’t the reaction she was looking for from her long lost niece, but I didn’t care. “My clothes,” I screamed, and Patrick had the nerve to lay a hand on me. I grabbed his wrist, twisted, and kicked the side of his knee, just as I’d done to his flunky at our grand reunion.
“Jessica,” Maggie scolded. Actually scolded!
“You,” I said, pointing at her. “This is all your fault. Fuck the clothes.” And for the second time in as many meetings, I stormed out on my parents.
For a minute I didn’t know where to go, but soon remembered I still had a suite here. I couldn’t find a map with a “you are here” dot on it, so I wandered around for a bit. Before long I found the Club, and from there I was on my way.
The elevator was too damn slow, and my ass was hanging out the back of the johnny, but the doors opened without anyone seeing my assets. I punched the button for my floor, got out, turned right, and walked straight to my apartment, which thankfully was unlocked. I’d left my keys in my other birthday suit. Ha.
I locked the door, surprised there wasn’t a stampede of supernatural creatures already beating it down. I couldn’t deal with them right now. First the shit with Malcolm, then the shit with Fuhrmann and Nox, and now this shit? I just…couldn’t.
I plopped down on that incredibly uncomfortable spindly sofa, but not before grabbing an afghan off the back, and wrapping it around me. No need to plant my naked butt on the nice antique furniture, stiff cushions or no.
My mind was a cyclone, whirling, spinning, thinking, overthinking, and at last settling on a topic—Harrier.
He promised me he would find out whatever he could about my bizarre reaction to Raven’s blood. I couldn’t believe he had almost literally gone to the ends of the earth to keep that promise.
Harrier, who had insisted I be treated with modern human medicine rather than drink Vampire blood, as Raven would have done. If they had gone that route I would be that much closer to being, what? Fully awakened? A blood sucking vamp? I shivered and pulled the afghan tighter around me.
Harrier had rescued me yet again.
Harrier.
My uncle
Family.
The tears burning the back of my eyes spilled over my lids, and I cried, deep uncontrollable sobs that shook my entire body. I felt strong arms wrap around me, and didn’t bother to see whose. I clung to them, laid my head on a large, solid shoulder, and I cried.
I cried for the life I used to have, before Vampires and Werewolves and Shifters and Sorcerers. The life where the biggest problem I had was poor fashion sense, and the occasional vision.
I cried for the little girl whose family had abandoned her, moving on to create a whole new life without her. Without me.
And I cried for the future I would never have. Not the one I dreamed of before Raven came into my life, nor the one I dreamed after. I wasn’t who I thought I was. I had spent all that time with Malcolm searching for something normal, when I wasn’t even normal myself.
This whole revelation, or whatever you wanted to call it, was teaching me something very important about myself.
I do not handle change well.
The thought caused something between a cackle and sob to escape me, and the arms around me tightened. I glanced up and saw reddish scruff on a firm jaw, russet hair falling softly over golden eyes. Harrier had come to my aid again, and I can’t say that I was surprised.
I sat back a little, and he let me go but kept a reassuring arm around my shoulders. I sighed and wiped my eyes, and we both sat back on that stupid couch.
“Rough day?” he asked.
I choked out a chuckle, hot tears still leaking down my face. “You could say that.”
We sat there for a while, neither of us feeling the need to speak, until Harrier said, “Do you have any tequila?”
And my uncle and I laughed.
Chapter
One Hundred Twenty-Seven
H arrier searched the cabinets, but struck out on the tequila. He found a couple of beers in the fridge, though, so he grabbed them and twisted the lids off. Alcohol may not have been the best thing for Jessica right now, medically speaking, but after everything she’d been through, if anyone needed a drink it was her. So he took the beers back out to that ugly-ass couch, handed one to Jessica, and taking a long pull on his own, sat down next to her again.
He had somehow convinced the Danes to stay with Rachel while he searched for their daughter. The mother was aghast (Harrier loved that word) at what their daughter had done to her own father. Patrick would be nursing a sore knee unless he changed and healed it, and that made Harrier grin. Girl could handle herself, with most, anyway.
He leaned back, balancing the beer bottle between his leg and index finger, and laid his arm along the back of the sofa, just in case. Jessica to
ok a sip of beer, and curled into the crook of his arm. He wasn’t big on the whole comforting thing, but Jess made it easy. He liked being there for her. It felt right. Some would say that’s what family did for one another, but then Harrier wouldn’t really know.
“What day is this?” Jessica asked.
“Sunday,” he said. “We found you about one this morning. It’s near nine PM now.”
“Thanks,” she said. “So, how did you find me?”
“Malcolm called me.”
Jessica sat up and looked at him. “Malcolm? How did he know where to find me?”
“He didn’t. Just happened to be lurking around your house last night when Raven showed up trying to play the hero. Malcolm got hit with a dart and went down, but not immediately out. He was still conscious when Raven was hit. Said it took three darts to bring the mother down.” Harrier shook his head with something close to respect. “Your cat played ‘possum while the ferals dragged Raven to an SUV, and drove away. That’s when he passed out. Hours later he wakes up, figures out some shit’s going down and calls Mason.”
“Okay,” Jessica said, “that tells me how you knew Raven was missing, but not how you found us.”
“You’re family.” Harrier shrugged. He knew she was expecting more, but he still wasn’t sure how to explain it.
“Harrier?” she asked, placing her hand on his chest. Yep, that was how he knew. His heart told him.
“I listened,” he said simply. “Ever since you walked into this place I’ve had a feeling, here,” he tapped his beer bottle to his chest next to Jessica’s hand. “Whenever you’re happy or sad, scared or confused, it’s all here inside me. I haven’t felt anything like it since I was a little kid, so yeah, it took me a while to puzzle out what it was.
“Initially, it irritated the shit out of me. You might have noticed.” Harrier took a drink and slanted his eyes at Jessica who was rolling her own.