Bloodchild

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Bloodchild Page 12

by Kallysten


  * * * *

  Vivien had never been as angry in her life as she was when Aedan followed Brad out without so much as a word of apology to her. Even when she’d gone to Rhuinn a few days ago, certain that he was responsible for Brad’s death, her anger had been second to her grief. Tonight, though, it was immense and all consuming, bordering on rage.

  Aedan had stormed in here when he had to know what he would interrupt, with no regard for her and Brad’s privacy or modesty. He’d acted like a veritable caveman, barking orders at Brad and dragging him out of bed—out of Vivien’s bed, where she’d invited him, where he would be every night with her if she only had her way.

  “How dare you?” she said loudly, certain that Aedan was right outside and waiting for her to be presentable to lecture her at length. “How dare you try to tell us how to live our lives?”

  She stalked through the room and to the washroom, and was still ranting when she walked out and started throwing on clothes.

  “From the moment Brad and I started getting close, you’ve been trying to get between us. You’ve thrown every excuse at us to tell us we couldn’t be together. Because it wasn’t proper. Ah! Proper! As though this is the Middle Ages and I need anyone protecting my virtue!”

  Jeans and a sweatshirt: she was well aware that she was dressing in her ‘Otherworld’ clothes, and it was very much on purpose. Let Aedan remember that she had grown up on Earth, and that she wouldn’t be cowed by Foh’Ran’s customs—or his delusions that he could dictate what she could or couldn’t do. Why Brad accepted it, she wasn’t sure. Because he was younger, maybe? Whatever his reason, his lack of protest against Aedan’s intrusion only accentuated Vivien’s anger.

  “You thought you had the perfect excuse now, didn’t you?” she asked, throwing the door open and striding through the small office toward the sitting room. “You thought that Brad being a vampire like you means you can boss him around and… and…”

  She faltered when she found the sitting room empty. She’d been so sure they’d be in here, or at least Aedan… She went to the door to her suite and looked out, expecting to find Aedan standing guard against the wall as usual, but the corridor was empty.

  She was tempted to go and look for them, and give them a piece of her mind—and, yes, to Brad, too, because there was no reason for him to have fled this way. The castle was large, however, and they could be anywhere. For all she knew, they might even be outside. Still angry, though silent now that she didn’t have a target for her ranting, she returned to her bedroom. She didn’t feel like going to bed like this, but she didn’t know what else she could do. She wasn’t going to wait like a lovesick girl for Brad to come back. Why hadn’t he argued back, damn him?

  As she undressed again, she noticed a stain on the collar of her sweatshirt, red, and still fresh. It looked like blood.

  With a sudden sense of foreboding twisting her insides, she approached the vanity desk and channeled to light the candle set by the mirror. She tilted her head to one side, exposing her neck, and let out a quiet gasp when she saw the drying blood staining her neck, and the two puncture marks on her throat.

  Her knees feeling suddenly very weak, she sat down on the bench in front of the desk, keeping her eyes on her neck in the mirror. After a few seconds, she raised a shaky hand to it and gingerly touched the small holes. They’d stopped bleeding, but their edges were red and puffed up. They didn’t hurt to the touch—and she didn’t remember any pain when Brad had bit her. She thought she knew when he had. Right at the end, when they were clinging to each other, riding the last waves of pleasure together, he’d buried his face against her neck and she’d thought he was kissing her, or giving her a hickey. Certainly not this.

  Certainly not what Aedan had been so worried about.

  That was why he’d stormed in. That was why he’d pulled Brad away from her. God, he was going to be insufferable now that he had an actual proof that he’d been right. But, no, he had overreacted. It wasn’t like Brad had hurt her. It had been just a small bite. Not much worse than a hickey, really. Brad wouldn’t have gone further than that and taken enough blood from her to actually hurt her.

  And if she repeated it to herself long enough, she might even start believing it.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Goodbyes

  The next day crawled by for Aedan. And yet, at the same time, the hours seemed to pass far, far too quickly.

  He left Bradan asleep to take guard and be there when Dame Vivien woke up. He’d caught a glimpse of the bite the night before, and while he was sure it hadn’t been serious enough to cause lasting damage, he would have liked to see it better in the light of day and make certain it would heal properly. When Dame Vivien came out, however, some time after Doril had brought up her breakfast, she wore a light, diaphanous scarf around her throat, and her closed-off expression did not invite questions or requests. She barely nodded in reply to Aedan’s greeting and strode down the corridor and staircase, all the way down to the library.

  Her first words to him were delivered in a clipped tone right as she entered the room.

  “Will the new guards be coming today?”

  “In an hour or so, yes.”

  “And Elver will let them Pass Through?”

  “Yes, Dame Vivien.”

  “If you need to show them around the castle or train with them or whatever else, do that. I intend to be in here all day, and I don’t need you at my door the entire time. I already told Doril I’ll take my meal in here.”

  She never so much as glanced at him during the exchange and closed the door after herself. They had come far from her inviting him in only two days ago.

  Regardless of what she’d said, he remained by the library door for the next hour. He didn’t have anything else to do yet and could just as well make plans for the rest of the day here.

  When it was time, he joined Elver in the Passing Room. Olric was first to request passage, and they only had to wait a minute or two before Savel Passed Through as well. Each was already dressed in black and had brought a small bag of personal effects. Aedan first took them upstairs to the room they’d share; it was a corridor down from his and Bradan’s room, which they passed by on the way.

  Bradan was still inside, although according to the jumbled feelings coming through the bond, he was awake. On the way back down, Aedan stopped for a minute to tell his brother he’d be in the armory with the new guards. As he’d hoped, Bradan joined them not long after, and the four of them became better acquainted as they trained together.

  It was hard to tell when he’d spent little more than a couple of hours with them between their interview and this impromptu training session, but Aedan thought he might come to like them. They both seemed dedicated to keeping Dame Vivien safe, and her trick with the Quickening had shown it was more than pretense. Neither seemed to have trouble with him and Bradan being vampires or with taking orders from him. Olric was a little over-enthusiastic about his new life as a guard, but Savel, with his experience, seemed like a good match to temper him.

  Aedan’s first hesitation came when Savel asked about the roster of duties. Aedan had not drawn one up yet, because he didn’t know whether to include himself in it or not. He’d tried not to think about it so far, but as the hour came closer, it became harder and harder to ignore.

  “After noon Bradan and I will be going to talk to the head of our clan,” he said. “It’s possible I might not come back. If that’s the case, you will need to divide guard duties between the two of you, and Bradan will support you as needed.”

  They must have wondered why he would not return, or why Bradan wouldn’t take his share of duties along with them, but they didn’t ask. As for Bradan, he had not met Aedan’s gaze for more than a second or two this morning, in what Aedan supposed was shame or embarrassment; those were two of many emotions still bouncing through the bond. The self-loathing was particularly hard for Aedan to bear, but he didn’t want to say anything in front of Olric and Savel. />
  At lunchtime, he took them both to the kitchen and introduced them to Doril. Leaving them in her care, he returned to his bedroom with Bradan, and they changed into fresh uniforms.

  “If I don’t come back,” Aedan started, but Bradan interrupted him at once.

  “Don’t. Don’t even think about it. You have to come back.”

  Sitting on the edge of his bed, Aedan considered his brother, who had his back to him. He was looking through one of his drawers, the one that contained childhood treasures and cherished mementos, his hand brushing against them without taking them out.

  “It’s not up to me,” he said quietly. “Ciara promised to kill me, and that was before I broke the rules and turned you. If she decides to do it right there and then—”

  Bradan faced him, his eyes flashing, his anger suddenly focused.

  “Are you telling me you’ll let her kill you? Is that what you want? To be done with all these responsibilities? With me and Vivien?”

  Aedan was on his feet before he even realized he’d moved.

  “Of course I don’t want that! But it’s not about what I want. She’s my Maker. It’s her right to—”

  “I don’t want to hear it,” Bradan said, clenching his teeth. “I want to talk to Vivien. Do you know where she is?”

  Annoyance at Bradan’s childishness warred with alarm within Aedan.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Bradan’s cold gaze met his without flinching.

  “I hurt her. The least I owe her is an apology, and the chance for her to tell me she never wants me anywhere close to her again. Should I wait to do that until after we’ve gone to the palace and you let Ciara kill you? Would that be safer for Vivien?”

  What was there to answer to that?

  “Library,” Aedan said simply, and they went down together.

  With every step he took to get there, the thought drummed through Aedan that this might very well be the last time he ever saw his dame. The thought was as unpleasant as the idea that he might have to leave his twin alone in the world.

  * * * *

  Vivien had just finished the lunch Doril had brought her when a quiet knock on the door made her look up from the books spread in front of her on the floor. Doril had looked scandalized when she’d come in, and she asked without even trying to hide her reprobation whether Vivien wouldn’t prefer to spread her research on a proper table, maybe in the dining room, if the desk in here was too small. Vivien had declined and sent her away.

  A couple of weeks ago, maybe she’d have felt rude to dismiss Doril like that, but she’d never asked to be treated like royalty, like it was beneath her to do such a terrible thing as sit on the floor. If Doril—or anyone else—couldn’t accept her as she was, they were free to leave.

  “Come in,” she called out with a sigh, half expecting to see Doril walk back to offer another pointed suggestion.

  Instead, Brad and Aedan came in, one after the other. They wore identical somber expressions, and she had to look at their hands to find the QuickSilver symbol to know which one was Brad. Even as she gave him a tentative smile, he put one knee down to the floor.

  “Vivien, I—”

  She couldn’t bear to let him go any further than that, not as long as he was kneeling down.

  “No,” she said, scrambling to her feet and stepping over her assortment of books. “You don’t kneel for me. Never. If you’re meant to follow my orders, then follow that one.”

  She held her hand out to Brad to pull him up, but rather than taking it, he looked at Aedan at his side. It grated that he only took her hand after Aedan had given the smallest of nods, but Vivien swallowed back her annoyance and held on to his fingers as he stood, pulling him close to her until she could embrace him. He remained rigid against her, doing nothing to return the hug, and while Aedan didn’t say a word Vivien could all but sense his disapproval.

  “Vivien,” Brad whispered against her temple, “this is not a good idea. I don’t want to hurt you again.”

  “You’re not going to,” she said, sure of herself.

  Very slowly, he raised one arm to touch her neck, brushing his fingers where her scarf hid the marks he’d left on her.

  “I already did. And I am so, so sorry about it. I never wanted to put you in danger. I didn’t even know I was doing it until it was too late. Can you forgive me?”

  She pulled back so that he’d see her face when she said very firmly, “I’m not forgiving you because there’s nothing to forgive at all. It didn’t even hurt, and I’m sure I’ve given more blood in blood drives than you took. It happened; there’s no changing that. We’ll just be more careful in the future.”

  His expression turned to one of pure shock.

  “In the future?” he repeated. “Vivien, no. We can’t—”

  “Why not?” she cut in, and had to bite her own tongue so as not to ask, “Because Aedan said so?”

  If Aedan hadn’t been in the room, she might have said it, but she had no desire to draw him into the conversation at this point. Instead, she glanced back at the books on the floor, gesturing toward them.

  “I’ve been learning about vampires,” she said, and again refrained from pointing out that she wouldn’t have needed to if Aedan had told her everything she needed to know from the start. “Small bites aren’t detrimental to humans, and they’re even an accepted part of vampire culture as long as the human consents. If I just know you’re going to bite me—”

  Looking horror-struck, Brad took a step back.

  “No! Vivien, that’s not… I never want to hurt you again.”

  She shook her head. “But I’m telling you, it didn’t hurt. It’s just… it’s part of who you are.”

  As loath as she was to do so, she turned to Aedan and asked him, “Isn’t that true? Aren’t the books correct?”

  “It’s true,” Aedan said, “but that’s only part of the truth. No book can explain to a human what the hunger is like, how hard it is to resist. If I hadn’t stopped Bradan last night, I don’t know that he could have stopped on his own before taking too much blood from you.”

  Scoffing, she crossed her arms and prepared to argue, but one look at Brad stopped her in her tracks. He’d dropped his head and closed his eyes tight.

  “Brad?” she said, suddenly uncertain. “I refuse to believe that.”

  He opened his eyes and looked up at her, a thin smile on his lips.

  “I know you do. All I can say is, I’ll try to do better. I’ll try to learn control. It’s all I can do at this point.”

  She couldn’t help but frown, unsettled by the tone of his voice, both fervent and regretful.

  “All right, but—”

  “We’re going to the palace,” he cut in. “To meet Ciara, like Aedan said yesterday. It shouldn’t take long, right, Aedan?”

  For a second or two, Aedan didn’t reply. Only when Vivien looked at him did he answer, though without meeting her eyes.

  “No, not long. An hour or two, at most.”

  By now, she knew him enough to develop a hunch that there was something else.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” she asked, her voice hardening. “You said she wouldn’t hurt Brad. You didn’t lie, did you? Do I need to use the Quickening to get the truth out of you?”

  He shook his head and looked straight at her.

  “Bradan will be fine. We’ll take our leave now, Dame Vivien.”

  He gave her the bow she expected and started for the door, pausing to look at Brad when he didn’t move immediately. After the way Brad had all but cringed out of her embrace, she was surprised when he stepped forward and took her in his arms, holding her as fiercely as she’d held him earlier.

  “It’ll be fine,” he murmured. “Everything will be fine.”

  He pressed a hard but brief kiss to her lips and let go of her, turning away and striding out of the room. Aedan was still standing there, watching her. His mouth opened as though to say something, but he left with
out another word, closing the door behind him.

  Vivien wanted to go after them, offer to open the Passing Room for them, have a few more minutes with Brad, but watching him go would hurt too much. He’d be back soon, they’d both said so, and that was all there was to it. She started picking up the books from the floor and returning them to the shelves. She’d gathered as much as she could from them. It was time to go back to her training.

  * * * *

  Walking away from Vivien might have been one of the hardest things Bradan had ever done, but it was necessary, in more ways than one. He distracted himself as he and Aedan made their way to the Passing Room by wondering why Aedan hadn’t told Vivien he might not come back. Had he been afraid to worry her? Would she have let them go, if she’d known that one or both of them might not return?

  He would have asked Aedan, but all that came from him through the bond was a dark void, and when he looked at him, Aedan pretended not to notice. He didn’t want to talk, that much was clear—although it changed as soon as Elver had opened the way for them to Pass Through to Rhuinn’s palace.

  A majordomo was there to welcome them, along with three armed guards, and they all escorted Aedan and Bradan through long corridors. The guards didn’t say a word, though they all threw dark looks at them, and Bradan remembered that, to them, Aedan was a traitor. He was suddenly very aware that he carried no weapons, and judging from the way Aedan’s fists closed tight, so was he.

  As they walked on, Aedan stepped closer to Bradan and whispered last minute instructions, bursts of nervousness flashing through the bond with each admonishment.

  “Don’t call her by her name. Don’t talk to her unless she addresses you first. Bow to her when we first come in. Don’t—”

  “Stop it,” Bradan hissed, throwing him a sideways look. “You’re making us both jumpy.”

  Aedan fell silent after that, although his nervousness didn’t abate.

  They were ushered into a medium-sized room and left alone with the woman waiting there for them. Clad in a guard’s uniform, her sharp features rendered sterner than usual by the lack of a smile, she sat in one of the armchairs arranged in a loose circle for companionable discussion, though she didn’t indicate they should sit with her. Taking his cue from Aedan, Bradan remained standing after offering her a small, awkward bow.

 

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