Blood Reunion

by Connie Suttle

  "It was your fault," Tory grumped. "You left that rubber lizard under my pillow."

  "You tossed perfectly good chocolate sauce at the ceiling over a rubber lizard?" Trik snickered. He was having fun—a foreign concept to him until recently.

  "He squealed like a little girl, too," Ry chuckled.

  "I can make you squeal," Tory went after Ry.

  After several minutes of unproductive wrestling, during which neither Ry nor Tory emerged as the winner while Trik laughed, both boys settled in the floor in front of Trik's motorized chair to discuss the topic of Toff's father.

  "What do we have, information-wise?" Trik asked.

  "Well, I heard Mom say she'd tell Toff his father was still alive when she thought he was ready," Tory offered.

  "And she told Toff already that she knew him and his father when Toff was two, but his father was in an accident. She didn't explain the accident, so Toff thinks his dad is dead," Ry added.

  "Uncle Roff said Toff would be a Winged Vampire someday," Tory turned to Ry, his eyes wide. "Remember? On the day Cheedas was turned? Roff was trying to calm Toff down and he told him that."

  "Oh, yeah. I forgot all about that," Ry whispered. "Good job, bro." Ry punched his brother's shoulder affectionately.

  "How many Winged Vampires are there? Does it run in families or just show up randomly?" Trik asked, his green eyes curious as his gaze wandered from Tory to Ry.

  "Winged Vampires are rare, and it only runs in families," Ry breathed, searching pockets for his mini comp-vid. "Look—the stuff is right here," he showed the comp-vid screen to his brother. "Only two comesuli families are Infilathi."

  "Infilathi?" Trik accepted the comp-vid from Tory and studied the screen.

  "Look—he's using his hand!" Ry crowed. Trik lifted his eyes triumphantly and grinned. His right hand, once withered and useless, now appeared normal and was growing stronger every day. He held the comp-vid easily while he tapped the information he wanted with his left index finger. "Oh, here it is—it means winged ones in the High Demon language. And it does say that there are only two families who are Infilathi." He turned the comp-vid around for Tory and Ry to see. Trik loved using comp-vids—he had a universe of information at his command, without having to struggle to lift heavy books or take them from shelves too high for him to reach.

  "So, Toff's father has to belong to one of those two families," Ry chewed his lower lip thoughtfully as he stared at the comp-vid screen. "That really narrows it down."

  "You're forgetting something, too," Trik grinned.

  "What's that?"

  "Roff is a Winged Vampire, and his family is one of the two listed."

  "Holy cow," Tory muttered.

  "Is there any information on Roff's turning?" Ry was standing quickly and taking the comp-vid from Trik's hand. Ry's fingers flew over his comp-vid, searching for the required information.

  "Holy cow," Ry repeated Tory's phrase as he dropped awkwardly to the floor. He stared at the multitude of entries that popped up on the screen regarding Roff.

  All three boys blinked in shock as the records, including the Council meeting entries, were read.

  "Roff was staked," Tory breathed. "By somebody trying to murder Mom."

  "Roff is Toff's father," Trik nodded. "It makes sense—the dates match and a comesuli child's name tends to reflect something from his parent."

  "This could be awkward," Tory observed. "I mean, Roff probably wants to tell Toff, but he's not sure how Toff might react. Really, I'm not sure how Toff might react, either."

  "Yeah." Ry flopped onto his back on the floor. "What a conundrum."

  "Should we send mindspeech to Sissy?" Tory asked.

  "I think she'd want to know," Trik said.

  * * *

  "Nissa, this is fine work," Calebert complimented Nissa on the sword she'd completed, running his fingers over the spelled designs she'd imprinted in the worked gold alloy.

  "Thank you, Master Wizard Calebert," Nissa ducked her head, her cheeks going pink. She'd never received such a compliment from Calebert before.

  "I think it won't be long until you're elevated from apprentice to Fifth-Tier." Calebert actually smiled. A smile from the autocratic Master Wizard was certainly a first. He was meticulous in his work and expected only the best from those who toiled in the Weapons Division of Grey House.

  Nissa stared at Calebert. A twelve-year-old being elevated to Fifth-Tier was unprecedented. She swallowed with difficulty. Sissy? Ry's voice sounded in her head. We found out who Toff's father is.

  * * *

  "His birthday is in six weeks?" Lissa stared at Roff in surprise.

  "My second child was born nearly eighteen years ago," Roff sat on the edge of Lissa's desk.

  "What are we going to do? Roff, we really need to tell him. I want to give him a nice birthday party, too—with your permission."

  "I want to tell him too, but I don't want him to be upset or disappointed." Roff rose and raked a hand through his hair in agitation. "He seems to love working at the winery, and Dariff and Markoff have to bite back their words at times, they want to include him in family matters so badly." Roff's honey-brown eyes were troubled as he glanced at Lissa. "I love my son. Have always loved him. What if he doesn't love me?"

  "Roff," Lissa sighed. "I can only hope that if he doesn't love you already, that he'll come to love you. Redbird has so much to answer for. All the Green Fae do. And my father," she held up a hand to keep the words from escaping Roff's mouth.

  * * *

  "Well, Narissa, you've managed to get yourself into trouble you won't be able to wiggle out of this time." Griffin appeared and sat on a bench outside his mother's cell. "You're looking old, too."

  "Shut up," Narissa snarled, pressing herself against the bars of her cage. "You always were the worst of my whelps."

  "Hello, Mother." Jeral appeared and sat beside Griffin.

  "Well, well. You're still alive," Narissa sneered at Jeral. "Both my sons, turned vampire."

  "All three of your sons were turned vampire," Griffin pointed out. "Davan died a few years ago. Want to know why Jeral and Davan never wanted to see you, mother?"

  "You're the one I dumped on your father, aren't you?" Narissa ignored Griffin and stared at Jeral.

  "Yes. My father died long ago. He was barely sixteen when you took advantage of him."

  "Have you come to gloat now?" Narissa turned away from her sons.

  "Merely to see you before it's too late," Jeral sighed. "Griffin sent mindspeech—you won't survive the return to Evensun."

  "You lie," Narissa turned swiftly and shook a fist at Griffin.

  "I can't lie, mother. I might stretch or manipulate at times, but I can't lie outright. You know that. You know what I am."

  "I curse Rabis. He surely saw what you'd become and didn't tell me."

  "I have no idea whether Rabis saw that. He didn't tell me either, mother, if he did see it."

  "Quarter bloods. The root of all our troubles can be found with the quarter bloods," Narissa pounded her hand against a thick cell bar.

  "The root of all your troubles can be placed on the Elemaiya's treatment of their quarter blood children," Griffin pointed out. "Had they not mistreated them, all this might have been avoided."

  "Had they heeded the H'Morr, many other things might have been avoided. Hello, Narissa." Rabis appeared beside Griffin's bench.

  "Traitor!" Narissa threw herself against the bars of her cell.

  "Go ahead and scream as loud as you want," Griffin scooted over to give Rabis room to sit. "I have this area shielded. Nobody will hear a thing."

  * * *

  Tandias looked just as human as the others crowding about him, waiting on the high-speed train to arrive. He'd chosen Gloesse as a target—he hadn't fed there yet and the population was enormous. Who would miss a few if they disappeared? Besides, he needed his strength. Zellar wanted to launch an attack on Le-Ath Veronis soon and Tandias also had vengeance to exact against the Queen.<
br />
  He'd enjoyed a soft life with Viregruz and Black Mist—Viregruz made sure that Tandias was always fed and kept others from hunting him. He'd been away on an assassination mission for Viregruz on that fateful night, when the Queen and the ASD had taken Viregruz and Black Mist down.

  Tandias, like anyone else who could work a vid-screen, had seen Viregruz's horrible death. Zellar knew of Tandias' secretive efforts on Viregruz's behalf, although they'd never met. When Zellar came to him with his plan to destroy Queen Lissa, Tandias only pretended to consider it. After all, he could devour Zellar and his acolyte with little thought after the Queen's death. No trail would be left behind, just as Viregruz taught him. Without a word, Tandias followed three prime humanoids as they climbed aboard the train and walked a short distance toward a private car.

  Tandias didn't mind devouring the wealthy—they generally furnished a more nourishing meal than the poor or homeless. These three would provide adequately for him. "This car is reserved and off-limits," one of the men snapped as Tandias stepped inside the luxury compartment.

  "Excellent," Tandias smiled hungrily, revealing many, pointed teeth.

  * * *

  Tory, Calebert says I might be elevated to Fifth-Tier soon, Nissa's mental voice was breathless when she replied. I'm sorry I blew you off earlier, but I was talking to Calebert. What's this about Toff's father?

  Sissy, Trik helped us, and we found out that Roff is Toff's father.

  Nissa, who was curled up on her bed with a comp-vid doing lessons, sat upright swiftly. What? she sent. Are you sure?

  Yeah. There are only two comesuli families who are Infilathi—you know, the ones who will become Winged Vampires? Well, we did research, and Roff got staked by somebody who was trying to kill Mom around fifteen years ago. The dates match, Sissy. Toff's father is Roff. What we can't figure out is what else happened around that time. Ry and I are trying to figure everything out, and Trik is helping as much as he can, but he's with the Larentii right now. They're already working on his leg. Sissy, he gets better every day with his right hand and thanks to the Larentii, he'll be up and walking soon.

  That's great. About Trik, I mean. What are we going to do about Toff? I don't want to keep the information from him, but what if it upsets him when we tell? And if we don't tell him, will he be mad at us because we knew and didn't tell him?

  We've been trying to figure that out, too. I don't know what to do. Tory's mental moan was almost audible. He still thinks his father is dead. I think Toff needs to know that he's alive, at least. I'd want to know, if I thought my dad was dead.

  Yeah, Nissa agreed. I'd want to know for sure. What do you think we should do? How should we tell him?

  No idea.

  * * *

  Lissa's Journal

  "Lissa, I need your help. Actually, I need your nose."

  I stared at Norian in exasperation. "Norian," I gave him a sigh and a shake of my head. "If you think Gavin, Karzac, the twins or Winkler will let me go offworld, then you'd better think again."

  "I don't need your power, just your nose," Norian whined.

  "Why?" I lifted an eyebrow at him. I could Look for the information, but truthfully, I wasn't feeling well. Breakfast was two hours earlier and looked to make its reappearance at any moment. I had a Council meeting in the afternoon, too, to determine the fate of my homicidal grandmother. Evensun was likely in her future and I didn't plan to stop it. I might abstain, but that's it. She'd threatened Toff. Roff got upset every time he thought about it. Hell, I got upset every time I thought about it.

  "I have three disappearances on Gloesse. Simultaneous disappearances. All three of them high-level scientists who worked for Schuul Enterprises. I have records where they boarded the train, and vids show them entering their private compartment, but not exiting it. Those private compartments don't have vid-cameras inside—for obvious reasons."

  "They just vanished?" My queasiness was ramping up as I moved my foot around to locate the wastebasket beneath my desk. Hooking an ankle around it, I pulled it forward, positioning it for an easy catch.

  "Yes. Dantel Schuul is crying foul and demanding the ASD get involved. You're still my Liaison. Even if you are pregnant."

  "Call Winkler, he's the one least likely to remove your head when I ask him to transport us," I said, before bending over and heaving into my designer trash can.

  * * *

  "Lissa, are you sure?" Winkler's dark eyes raked my face. Even after cleaning myself up and convincing Norian to get rid of the wastebasket, Winkler still knew I'd been sick. Werewolves and their freaking sensitive noses.

  "Just get us to Gloesse, Winkler. Norian won't shut up about this until I sniff around." I ruined my tough-girl stance by leaning my forehead against Winkler's shoulder. I can't say for sure, but I imagine he was glaring at Norian across the top of my head. Winkler's arms went around me while he kissed my hair. He ruined the tender moment by growling at Norian Keef, who'd taken a step toward us.

  "Just get us there, werewolf. The sooner we go, the faster we return," Norian hissed. I considered kicking his snaky ass the next time I wasn't pregnant. Winkler growled again and folded space.

  * * *

  "Ra'Ak," I snapped two seconds after Norian led us onto the detached private compartment. If Winkler had been wolf, I imagine his hackles would be bristling. Norian settled for staring at me. "Look, there's room enough for a Ra'Ak to turn here, if he coiled himself up," I pointed out. The compartment was a luxury compartment, and larger than an old Pullman car. "Schuul Enterprises must be doing well if they can afford this kind of transportation for their scientists."

  "They are," Norian grumped. "What are we supposed to do now?" He raked fingers through his hair in frustration. "We have a rogue Ra'Ak eating important Alliance researchers and my weapon against them is pregnant and helpless."

  "Say that again, Keef, and I'll put you through that window over there," Winkler said. The growl that came with his words told both of us the werewolf was prepared to show up.

  "Norian, what the hell would you do if you didn't have me as your weapon, as you so romantically put it?" I wasn't happy with him either, and he was just getting that idea. "Honestly, you put your fucking job ahead of people. Every. Single. Time." Yeah, the pregnancy hormones were showing up. Big time.

  "Keef, I think I'll take Lissa back to Le-Ath Veronis. You can find your own way back," Winkler muttered.

  "No, wait. I didn't mean it like that," Norian was suddenly apologetic. I imagine it was because he didn't look forward to finding traditional passage back to headquarters, which was on Le-Ath Veronis. Sometimes, I wanted to show up at Ildevar Wyyld's palace and ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing, dumping the entire ASD in my lap. Of course, he probably didn't think I'd ever end up pregnant either, so I might consider yelling at him only half as long as I originally intended.

  "Norian, if this is your baby, I swear I'll punch you in the face," I snapped.

  "Breah-mul, you can't mean that," he whined. Winkler didn't waste any time, and he was gracious enough to haul me (and Norian) back to Le-Ath Veronis.

  * * *

  "Mom's glaring at Uncle Norian," Ry nudged Tory with his elbow.

  Hey, she can probably hear you. I've been studying vampires on my comp-vid, Trik sent.

  You got mindspeech? Ry sent as he stared at Trik in wonder.

  I'm Belancour—or was. My mother and my grandfather both had mindspeech, and it only makes sense that I might have it. Besides, I practiced for the first time with Connegar and Reemagar when they worked on my right leg this afternoon. They smiled and sent mindspeech back, explaining what they were doing. It was amazing. Trik's smile came through in his mental voice.

  All three boys sat in their usual seats at the dinner table, grinning like fools. Man, we can cause havoc now, Tory snickered.

  Roff and Toff are here, Ry interrupted. Roff and Toff had clearly just arrived from working at the winery all afternoon. All three watched as Roff gave Toff
a smile and steered him toward the three boys at the table before walking to his usual place near the Queen's chair.

  "Hey, we're having pot roast," Tory nudged Ry. Tory loved pot roast, but the kitchen staff seldom prepared it.

  "This is great—I can cut my own meat," Trik announced.

  "All right!" The Queen clapped and laughed.

  "Way to go, bro," Tory slapped Trik on the back.

  * * *

  "See, they look the same," Trik pointed at his right leg and foot. "It doesn't hurt, either, when the Larentii work on it." He, Ry, Tory and Toff had gathered in Ry's section of their shared suite. The suite had been enlarged to include space for Trik. Trik suspected the Larentii had a hand in that, too, but didn't voice his suspicions aloud.

  "Toff, do you ever wonder about your dad?" Ry asked quietly while drawing a pattern on his comforter.

  "Corent?" Toff asked, turning to Ry.

  "No, not your adopted dad, your real one," Tory said, ducking his head to hide the unwanted flush that crept up his neck.

  "He's dead," Toff shrugged.

  "But what if he wasn't?" Trik asked. "If your father were still alive, would you wonder about him?"

  "Of course. But Queen Lissa says there was an accident."

  "To put it mildly," Ry muttered.

  "And what if," Trik continued, "your real father, assuming he's alive, was afraid to tell you who he was, because he was worried you might be upset about it or reject him when you found out?"

  "That's silly," Toff murmured. "Why would I be living in the palace if my father were still alive? Why would the Queen want to adopt me if my father were still alive? Wouldn't she just hand me back to him?"

  "I think the Queen—Mom, sort of loves you, Toff. I think she's loved you for a long time," Ry said. "Since she met you, in fact, when you were a baby. You've been inside her office. That painting she has behind her desk? The one with the little boy under the tree?"