Dutifully I crawled into bed, and Cleo placed fingers against my forehead. Just like that, I was out.
* * *
"She doesn't trust anybody," Cleo sighed.
"Yeah. I know," Kyler agreed. "I got mindspeech from Flavio, asking me why the hell I didn't warn him sooner. I had to tell him that Em-pah didn't want it."
"I don't know what I would do, if Harvel or Rhett didn't remember me," Cleo said. "That would break my heart."
"Lissa's was broken, long ago," Kyler said. "That's why she doesn't trust anybody now."
"Gram Amara cried after we went shopping the other day," Cleo nodded. "She says Lissa might not ever consider her and Em-pah as parents."
"At least Mom loved me, and Em-pah loved me when I was little," Kyler said. "And your adoptive parents loved you. A lot."
"I know Em-pah had his reasons for splitting us up, but that doesn't make it easier to deal with now," Cleo observed. "And neither of us had to live with what Aunt Lissa did, when we were little. She must look like her mother," Cleo added. "I don't see much of Em-pah there at all."
"I wonder if Em-pah will ever learn who his father was," Kyler sighed. "He said his mother refused to tell him, and there's a wall of power surrounding the information. He can't get to it."
"It bothers him, but we may never know who our great-grandfather was," Cleo agreed. "Em-pah says he didn't ever Look to see who Lissa's Elemaiya grandmother was. He says the wars between Bright and Dark have almost destroyed the race, and she may be dead anyway. Is Flavio still mad?"
"He asked me to spend the night with him, so I guess not," Kyler hid a smile.
"Yeah, he's not pretty or anything," Cleo snickered, bumping her shoulder against her twin's.
* * *
Cleo was right; I was well rested after a long sleep—I'd slept right through breakfast and Drake and Drew showed up after sparring with Dragon and Crane, hauling me out of bed, shoving me in the shower and then herding me toward the kitchen. Mike was waiting, and I had a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of me in very little time.
"Lissa, we heard you had a tough time, last night," Devin walked in, receiving a peck from Drake and Drew as she sat down beside me.
"I still don't know what to do," I muttered, accepting a fresh cup of coffee from Mike. He'd added cream and sugar, just the way I wanted it. I sent mindspeech, telling him he was a god in the kitchen. He snickered and went to make a cup of tea for Devin.
"M'Fiyahs are never easy at first, especially if there are several manifesting at once. Kiarra had an easier time, since Pheligar muted his for thousands of years, and hers with Merrill was muted by Griffin."
"They can be muted?" I stared at Devin in shock.
"Not anymore, Belen has forbidden it," Devin stared at her hands. Mike placed a cup of tea in front of Devin and she thanked him absently. "Belen says there has been too much damage caused by muted and destroyed M'Fiyahs. In the past, some have been muted or destroyed, because one party or the other decided, without consent or knowledge, at times, of the other party. The ability has been removed from all of the Saa Thalarr and only Belen can do it, now. He says he will only consider destroying a M'Fiyah if both parties agree."
Devin's skin was flawless as I studied her face—she was fair-skinned and light red hair framed her delicate, oval face. Her blue eyes were troubled as she focused on me. "Kiarra wants Gracie and me to bring you over this morning. Gryphon Hall, Adam's ancestral home, is only a few miles away. We'll fold you over. Kiarra wants to talk to you. There's something else you should know, too. I'm her daughter. She and Adam are my parents."
"But the scent," I said before I thought.
"I know about that. Mom and Dad aren't my birth parents. But they're still my parents."
"Got, it," I said. "Didn't mean to upset you."
"I know, and you didn't," Devin rubbed my back and smiled. "If they were my birth parents, it would make things awkward with Justin. They are his birth parents."
That admission made me blink—I hadn't thought about that. Justin, Adam and Kiarra's son, was one of Devin and Grace's eleven mates.
"M'Fiyahs are usually easier on the guys—the love hits them immediately and they always want to hop in bed right away; that's just the way they are," Devin shrugged. Drake and Drew, sitting beside me, snickered and pretended to look the other way.
Schmucks, I sent to both of them.
We're crushed; Drake sent a smile with his mental words. And it wasn't awkward to be sitting there, discussing sex with the mother of the two who wanted to do the bed hopping.
"So, how should I dress?" I'd slipped into jeans and a pullover earlier.
"You're fine," Devin said.
That's how I ended up at Gryphon Hall later, after I finished eating and brushing my teeth. Devin wouldn't allow Drake and Drew to come along, though I was wishing they might come for moral support. I had no idea what Kiarra might want, and if my guesses were correct, she was the Queen Bee for the Saa Thalarr, even though Dragon and Grace were now Co-Firsts.
"I just ate," I waved off Kiarra's offer of something to eat or drink. She and Fox were in Adam's library—it was as large as Merrill's had been when I'd lived with him, three centuries ago. It made me wonder what his manor looked like now, and whether it had changed through the years.
Comfortable furniture was scattered in a seating area, surrounding a wide, low table. Everything—from the sofas and chairs to the table and the handmade rugs beneath our feet screamed money—lots of money.
"I wanted to talk to you about several things, before we get to the difficult matters," Kiarra's platinum blonde hair was pulled back in an attractive braid. If she'd left it loose, it would probably hang to her waist. Her blue eyes held concern and a slight frown tugged at her pretty mouth. She wasn't tall—maybe an inch or two taller than I. I didn't measure her might in her stature, though, and anybody who did might have a real surprise coming their way. Power clouded about her—it was so tangible I could almost see it. If I turned to mist, I would definitely see it.
"What things?" I asked. I felt pain coming, and twisted my fingers together.
"Stop that." Fox sat beside me and pulled one of my hands into hers. I'd sat by myself on a small sofa, while Grace and Devin sat opposite me. Kiarra had been standing the entire time, but she sat, now.
I stared at Fox—she knew I was shaky. "We quarter bloods have to stick together," she offered a perky grin.
"Wlodek must have gone crazy when he first met you," I blurted.
"He did. He had no idea how to handle this," she laughed, her short, black curls bouncing a little. "But we had a M'Fiyah, and he figured out soon enough he couldn't do without me."
"Lissa," Kiarra interrupted us. "I know you loved Franklin. I was with him when he died. He was eighty-three."
I drew in a sharp breath and my mouth was suddenly dry. Frank lived twenty years after I disappeared.
"Sixty years ago, Belen came to Merrill and me," Kiarra went on. I was now staring at her, the pain for Franklin settling in my heart. "Belen said it was time for Franklin and Jeff to be reborn. Jeffrey was one of Merrill's vampire children that he lost before he met you," Kiarra explained. "Belen gave us a choice, Merrill and me. He said both could be reborn to us, as our natural children, or born to others. That decision was an easy one to make. They came to us, as twins. Neither remembers their former lives, although that has a great deal to do with who and what they are, now." Kiarra blew out a sigh. I chewed my lower lip, my heart beating painfully in my chest. Fox squeezed my hand.
"Jeff, before Merrill made him vampire in the early 1900s, was a medical student. He contracted the deadly influenza sweeping the U.S. at the time. Merrill turned him before he died. Jeff is the only vampire born vampire. And he now has several medical degrees and does charity work in that field, in addition to being a healer for the Saa Thalarr."
"And he doesn't remember," I muttered, staring at my hand that was gripped tightly by both of Fox's.
"No. Franklin has architecture and engineering degrees, this time," a smile lit Kiarra's face. She was speaking of her children, and proud of them, as any mother might be. "He is also a healer for us, but he could build a house or a bridge or a skyscraper if he wanted. He also knows his way around a kitchen, but one of his mates, Shane, is a better cook than any of us. If Shane makes barbecue, Merrill is first in line."
"One of his mates?" I watched Kiarra closely.
"Both are mated to Tomas."
"Is Frank happy? This time?" I sniffled, I couldn't help it. My Frank was gone. I didn't get to say goodbye to him, either.
"Lissa, Shane is Greg, reborn. Conner, my half-sister says so. And as she's the Guardian, she would know. They're all happy."
"We'll explain about the Guardian some other time," Grace said gently. Fox Pulled in a box of tissues and handed it to me. I wiped tears away.
"I gave information to Franklin and Greg, before." Griffin folded into the library, accompanied by Merrill and Adam. Kiarra, Grace and Devin folded away. Fox patted my hand, gave me a watery smile—she was nearly in tears, and folded away.
"What the fuck do you want?" I muttered at Griffin. I wasn't speaking to Merrill.
Chapter 9
"I told Franklin and Greg, more than three hundred years ago, that things would come out better this way, if they refused to allow Merrill to make the turn," Griffin sighed. "Franklin asked back then, so I answered. I said their lives would be all right—but only all right, if they became vampire. But if they lived their lives and waited for rebirth, then things would be better."
"You did this." I refused to look at Griffin. He'd manipulated so many things, including my death. "But you didn't see me coming back, did you?" I wasn't sure how I knew it, but I did.
"No. You were dead, Lissa. Belen says it. The ones above him say it. Some of them know why you're here now, but they had no hand in making it happen."
"They should have left me dead," I muttered, wiping dampness from my cheeks. My pile of used tissues was growing.
"Belen says I have to make this next admission to you, because what I did—what Merrill and I did, was wrong. You already despise us, and this will only make things worse," Griffin raked fingers through thick, light-brown hair. His hazel eyes darted in my direction—once. Whatever he was about to say—he was ashamed of it. Merrill, too, had arms crossed over his chest and was staring at his shoes.
"I told Merrill, after Wlodek asked him to teach you years ago," Griffin began, "that he—Merrill—would have a M'Fiyah with you." My breath stopped.
"I was obsessed with Kiarra, Lissa," Merrill's voice was rough and he still refused to meet my gaze. Just as well, I was gawping like a fool. "I didn't want anything to interfere with my love for Kiarra," Merrill continued. "So I asked Griffin to destroy the M'Fiyah with you. In his defense, he asked me three times if that was what I wanted. I still insisted. He destroyed the M'Fiyah. Without my seeing you, without our consulting you, or doing anything to help you through it afterward. We allowed that pain to live in you, Lissa. This is our punishment, for doing that. Belen won't allow the destruction of a M'Fiyah, or even the muting of one, any longer, unless both parties agree." Well, now I knew why Devin had explained it earlier.
"This is your punishment? Admitting it now?" I was on my feet and stifling a sob. "Fuck both of you. And don't ever say that you care about me. Ever. That's the biggest lie, and you're not supposed to be able to lie." I misted away.
* * *
I learned, after misting there, that the cliffs of Dover were now a very protected place, and one might see them best from a hoverboat in the sea. Transportation had certainly changed—I saw that quickly. I was glad I'd kept my credit chip necklace on—that's how I paid to get aboard the tourist boat. Now I stood at the rail, staring at the white cliffs in the distance and wiping away tears. I'd cared about Merrill once—now I knew why. And he'd sabotaged it, repeatedly. He and Griffin, together, had done terrible harm to me. One of them refused me, sight unseen, and the other manipulated my birth and death. How was I supposed to forgive that? How?
It has become my philosophy, over the years, that anger is a heavy burden, and it is better to let it go than carry it around. Perhaps I'd forgiven too much through my life, but I preferred that to the alternative. Until now, there was only one person who would never have my forgiveness, and that person was Howard Graham. Merrill and Griffin had just joined him.
"Your father and your intended mate never thought things might come to this." He shone beside me. And Power? I'd never felt so much of it. "One of them never expected you to live and remember, the other never thought to admit his deed. Now you know of both. What you do with that information is your choice. I am Belen," he smiled down at me.
He was tall. And in corporeal form, he had pale hair and blinding white eyes. I found myself staring at Belen of the Nameless Ones.
"Intended mate," I huffed. Merrill made a choice, shoving me in Gavin's direction. And then he'd never interfered, when I was beaten by the Council or when I suffered from Gavin's bouts of anger. No, Gavin hadn't realized how much that anger had cost me—until he'd caused me to break on a September night at Camp David. Now, he didn't remember me or anything we'd had between us.
"Merrill belonged with you, Lissa. And he had that bond destroyed. It is costing him, now. As much as he might wish to restore it, that wish will not be granted by my kind."
"What about Gavin?" I muttered.
"He also was yours. Neither will that bond be restored by my kind." I dropped to my knees and wept. "I only said it would not be restored by my kind." Belen disappeared.
* * *
"What did we damage?" Merrill asked with a sigh. Kiarra had just come from a meeting with Belen.
"A M'Fiyah with you would have meant Lissa's membership in the Saa Thalarr. Now, Belen says another path is opening before her. One he barely understands. She won't ever come to us. And she could have done so much, too." Kiarra shook her head. "We could send her after the worst of the worst, Merrill, and it would be child's play to her. There are no rules about bringing natural talent into the Saa Thalarr."
"I didn't know," Merrill muttered.
"Griffin could have said something. He didn't," Kiarra snapped. "Now, Lissa's pissed at both of you, and we have no idea where she is. Belen wouldn't tell me earlier, and Drake and Drew are going crazy. Shadow Grey has sent mindspeech six times. I have no idea what to do about that."
* * *
A spring rain poured down as I strode angrily through the fields and grounds near Merrill's old manor. I knew what I searched for, and I walked instead of misting there. The cold rain and exercise would help clear my mind. At least I hoped it would. The gate was there, and I stared at the spot just outside it, where René died. No memorial had been placed. No flowers. No pile of stones or any other thing to remember him by. He only lived in my memory, now.
"René, what am I supposed to do?" I dropped to my knees. My hair hung in wet strands about my face and my clothing dripped water as I hugged myself and wept.
* * *
"Franklin?"
Frank lifted his head—he'd been working at a drafting table inside his workshop. His twin brother, Jeff, asked him to design a charity clinic for the jungles on Ooblerik. The indigent population was growing; the government ignored the poor in the cities as well as the aborigines in their southern jungles. Jeff and Karzac were in those jungles now, immunizing children against a disease destroying their numbers.
Franklin had to design something that would fit with the local architecture, and still hold the examination rooms and spaces for supplies that Jeff requested. Franklin added a few hospital rooms to the structure—he feared they might be needed.
"Conner?" Frank asked, although he should have known better than to say Conner's name—the Guardian was present, and bore little resemblance to Conner's normal form. White, shifting flames regarded him with piercing eyes.
"Go to this place. Now." The Guardian's eye
s were filled with light and an image was placed in Franklin's mind.
Frank knew the place—the old gate was there—the one Griffin closed so Merrill's property would remain safe. Only Griffin and the Saa Thalarr ever used it now, and that only sparingly—they could fold space, after all.
"Of course." Franklin dropped his screen stylus—his drafting table was a computer and everything he designed was digital. More instructions filtered into Franklin's mind, even as he folded away.
* * *
He was Merrill's son. And Kiarra's—the scent told me that as he knelt beside me. He'd shown up as I sobbed my heart out, rocking on the cold ground outside the gate on his father's property.
"Go away," I stuttered. The rain was cold and I was frozen, my teeth chattering. Did I expect him to look so much like Merrill? No. And he wasn't vampire. This was Franklin. The one who didn't remember me. And he didn't look or smell like my Frank, either.
"Lissa?" Franklin lifted my face to stare into his.
* * *
Flavio studied the electronic reports he'd received from contacts in the U.S. There were increasing numbers of disappearances in California, most concentrated along the coast between Los Angeles and Monterey. Tourist season had begun; vacationers and instate visitors were flocking to the coastal areas for the beach and cooler temperatures. Eight humans had disappeared in the last two weeks and there were no clues to be had. The local authorities were confused—no bodies had been found and the last to disappear was a father and his fourteen-year-old son two days earlier. Normally Flavio's suspicions wouldn't be raised—humans often went crazy and killed. But there was a thriving community of vampires in the area—they also liked the cooler temperatures and misty nights when they came. There'd been a marked decrease in orders of blood substitute recently—and that fact had not gone unnoticed by the two vampires in charge of distributing supplies to the locals.
"Who do we have?" Flavio looked up at Charles, who'd been tidying up.
"You want to send somebody to the California coast?" Charles asked.
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