Bloodchild

by Kallysten

  Olric was young, a small voice insisted at the back of his mind, still learning his duty as guard. And Deltrea, even if he didn’t harm Dame Vivien, could complicate everything in ways Aedan preferred not to contemplate.

  He used the back door of the reception room, slipping in so quietly that Dame Vivien did not appear to notice, not until Deltrea’s eyes flicked toward him. She followed Deltrea’s gaze but did not react and continued to converse over tea and small cakes. Olric stood a step and to the side behind her armchair, and Deltrea’s guard mirrored his position behind his lord. It would have been impolite for Dame Vivien to have two guards at her side when her guest only had one, so Aedan approached Olric and, whispering, relieved him of his duty.

  For a second, Olric looked like he might protest, but a quick frown from Aedan silenced him, and he left the room through the back door, though not quite as quietly as Aedan had come in. Dame Vivien looked back, a brief, questioning expression crossing her features, but they were smooth again when she turned back to Deltrea.

  During the next hour or so, Aedan didn’t manage to take in more than an occasional word of what Dame Vivien and Deltrea were talking about. Good guards were unobtrusive and always discreet, pretending to the best of their abilities not to be listening to the conversations they witnessed. Today, Aedan wasn’t pretending.

  His mind was buzzing with Bradan and what he had done, and nothing else quite seemed to matter right now. He kept clutching at the bond and trying to pick up from it what Bradan was feeling or experiencing, but all he could sense was wariness and a sense of determination. Bradan, it seemed, was convinced he had done the right thing, but that didn’t mean he was any happier with his solution to their problem than Aedan was.

  When Deltrea finally stood to take his leave, Aedan was almost startled out of his thoughts. He preceded Deltrea and his guard into the corridor, entrusting both of them to Olric and Savel who were waiting by the door and would see them back to the Passing Room. Steeling himself at the news he had to deliver now, Aedan stepped back into the reception room and closed the door. He found Dame Vivien still in her chair, although no longer sitting so perfectly straight. She grinned at him as he approached.

  “Can you believe this just happened?” she asked, gesturing at the opposite seat in what he supposed was an invitation to sit down.

  Aedan remained standing, his hands clasped behind him.

  “Dame Vivien… I must tell you—”

  “What do you think he meant when he was talking about mistakes of the past?”

  “I’m not sure that’s—”

  But she wasn’t listening, too caught up in her own excitement.

  “You missed the best part. Before you came in, he pledged to support me when I claim the throne!”

  The claim derailed Aedan’s train of thoughts, and he considered what she had said. It took him no time to reach a conclusion.

  “I’m sorry to say it means very little for him to pledge his support now,” he said cautiously. “He’s not head of his family, so anything he says can be later dismissed as the mistake of youth.”

  Dame Vivien rolled her eyes at him. It didn’t look very regal at all.

  “Oh, stop being so gloomy. It was something, all right? Proof that I’m not the only one who thinks Rhuinn is wrong. And he said other people agree with me but are too scared now, but they might come out in my support after I win the first duel.”

  ‘After I win,’ she said, and warmth seeped through Aedan. After, not if. She was confident then, more so than she had shown herself so far. If that was the result of Deltrea’s show of support, then it wasn’t quite as meaningless as Aedan had first assessed.

  “Where’s Brad?” she said, jumping to her feet. “I want to tell him about this. Maybe he’ll show a bit more enthusiasm than you do.”

  As she looked at Aedan, his throat tightened, and the reality of the situation slammed back into him. He had to tell her, but he still didn’t know how to voice it.

  “Dame Vivien…”

  “Oh, come on,” she sighed. “I just want to talk to him, and I know you’ll be right there. I’ll be safe.”

  Aedan found himself wishing that things were back to the tense status quo of that morning. At least, then, he’d known how to act.

  As she looked at him, Dame Vivien’s expression changed little by little, growing more worried with each passing instant.

  “Aedan?” she said, and now her voice was almost a whisper. “Where’s Brad?”

  He closed his eyes and said it as plainly as he could.

  “He decided to remain at the palace with Ciara so that she may teach him.”

  When he dared to look at her again, she was staring at him as though struck speechless. She shook herself off and said, louder now, “Your humor is terrible. Now tell me where Brad is. I want to talk to him.”

  He didn’t know why she would think he was joking. He’d never made a joke in her presence; it wasn’t proper. Maybe she couldn’t believe that Bradan would do such a thing, not any more than Aedan had believed it at first.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, bowing his head. “But it’s the truth. He’s afraid to hurt you. He’s afraid I can’t teach him well enough.”

  And he was probably right about that. Aedan had thought he could, but the events of the previous night had made it clear he was deluding himself.

  “And you left him with her?” Dame Vivien’s voice was booming now and shaking with what might have been worry, or maybe anger. “With the same woman who swore to kill you? What if she kills him instead? How could you leave him there?”

  “She won’t hurt him,” Aedan said, although that wasn’t the entire truth.

  Ciara would hurt Bradan as she trained him, the same way she’d hurt Aedan decades earlier, but it was all part of the training, and nothing severe enough to put his life at stake.

  “He’s done nothing wrong, and he’s not in danger. As for leaving him there… it wasn’t my choice. I tried to convince him to come back—”

  Dame Vivien’s scoffing interrupted him.

  “Oh, yeah, I can imagine that,” she said dryly. “You wanted him here with me. I’m sure you tried your very best to convince him.”

  “Dame Vivien—”

  “Don’t ‘dame Vivien’ me now,” she snapped, glaring at him. “I’ve done everything you asked of me. Every single thing except for staying away from Brad. And now you’ve taken him away from me.”

  “I didn’t—”

  She shook her head and backed away, her hands fisted at her sides. Behind him, the double doors banged open on a gust of air.

  “Get out,” she said, tears thick in her voice. “Stay away from me.”

  There was nothing to do but obey.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Adjustments

  Vivien rarely practiced after dinner. A good run, a hot bath, and a book to read was her usual routine before bed. Tonight, though, she was too keyed up to sleep. And since she now had two guards who could channel at her disposal, she made full use of that fact and trained with them.

  The ballroom somewhat resembled the one in Rhuinn’s palace, minus the columns. Paintings and tapestries on the walls and high windows that let light in without endangering vampires seemed de rigueur in such a place. However, Vivien hadn’t chosen this location to train because she’d have her first duel in a similar place. Instead, it was about having space, enough of it that three channelers could wield the Quickening and conjure up large structures without feeling constricted.

  Early on, it was clear to Vivien that both Olric and Savel didn’t dare go all out against her. She couldn’t fault them for it. Here they were, on their first day working for her, and she asked them to attack her. She’d have been wary, too. At least, they were training for the first duel; she could imagine they’d have flat out refused to train her if they’d needed to draw blood, like in the second duel.

  With repeated demands that they up their game, little by little, both of them s
tarted to be more imaginative as they tried, separately and together, to constrict her or distract her. Even then, she only was in real trouble twice—and both times because she’d let herself think of Brad. Whether it meant that she was good enough to best two channelers or that they were still holding back, Vivien wasn’t sure, although she hoped it was the former.

  She was better now at knowing when she’d channeled for so long that she needed to rest. She pushed herself a few minutes past that limit before thanking the guards for their help and putting an end to the session. They left at her prompting, and she turned to the only person remaining with her in the room—the person she’d been trying very hard to ignore for the past couple of hours.

  Aedan had sneaked into the ballroom not long after she’d started training, and had taken position against the wall between two paintings. He hadn’t said a word—be it encouragement, praise, or suggestion—but she knew he had observed the fight very closely. Another time, maybe, she’d have asked him what he thought of her chances against Rhuinn, but tonight as she took long strides toward him, there was only one thing on her mind.

  “Explain it to me again,” she said, stopping an arm’s length in front of him, and even though she tried, she couldn’t quite keep the anger out of her voice. She did her best to calm down before she added, “Why did he stay with Ciara? It doesn’t make any sense that he’d do that. She’s my enemy. Why would he go to her?”

  She realized she’d already asked earlier, but, too upset by Brad’s absence, she hadn’t taken in Aedan’s answer. He replied with no indication that he resented having to repeat himself.

  “She’s not your enemy as such, Dame Vivien.”

  As Vivien straightened up and readied a retort, Aedan raised an appeasing hand.

  “What I mean is, Rhuinn is your enemy, and she is sworn to him. She herself cares little about you, one way or the other.”

  If he meant to be reassuring, he failed by a fair margin.

  “That still doesn’t explain why Brad stayed with her,” Vivien objected, almost proud of herself when her voice didn’t waver on Brad’s name. “Because he cares about me.”

  At least Aedan didn’t try to deny that much, or to point out it was untoward for a guard to be as close to his dame as Brad was. Or had been.

  “He does care about you, and that’s why he stayed with her. He was scared he’d hurt you. He realized I wasn’t teaching him how to resist his instincts well enough to keep you safe. So, he sought another teacher. He didn’t choose her because of her link to your enemy. He chose her because she’s the head of our clan and best suited to teach him.”

  Vivien turned around and took a few steps, her gaze fixed on nothing in particular ahead of her. Brad had been the one familiar element she’d clung to since she’d first come back to Foh’Ran. He’d comforted her, explained things to her, taught her. He’d grown as close to her as she’d dreamed, back on Earth, before she knew who they both truly were. And now all she had was someone who looked like him but was so different, making it that much more difficult to bear his absence.

  “I bet you’re happy he’s gone,” she muttered, looking back at Aedan. “Now you don’t have to try to get him away from me all the time.”

  Aedan blinked slowly, opened his mouth, then snapped it shut without uttering a word.

  “If you’d tried to teach him better,” she continued, needing desperately to lay the blame on someone, “he wouldn’t have needed to go away.”

  Again, she could see Aedan try to contain himself. This time, he failed.

  “I did the best I could,” he said in a tight voice, and for once there was no honorific to punctuate his words. “He’s my brother and now my Bloodchild. How can you believe for even one second that I want him anywhere but here?”

  At the contained pain in his words, Vivien realized that he was hurting as much as she was, and she was twisting the metaphorical knife.

  “I didn’t mean that,” she said, sighing. “It’s just… he’s been gone for hours, and already I miss him so much.”

  “I know,” he said quietly. “I miss him too.”

  “I love him.”

  She didn’t know why she said it but it felt good to voice the words, even if Aedan was bound to lecture her on what was proper or not.

  Except… He didn’t. And instead he said, “I know that too. And I know he loves you in return. We'll be there in two days. When you see him, you can demand that he come back. He wouldn’t be able to refuse if you gave him a direct order.”

  She stared at him at that and shook her head.

  “I asked you not to go,” she said, “and you went anyway. How is that any different?”

  Aedan racked his fingers through his hair. For a moment, Vivien could have sworn it was Brad in front of her.

  “It’s all about rules,” he said, and let out a huff. “We vampires have many of those. It is one inflexible rule that a new vampire be presented to the head of his clan within three days of rising, and that was why even an order from you couldn’t stop us. But Ciara teaching him… there’s nothing customary about that, let alone a rule. His oath to you takes precedence. He believes he serves you best by being away from you, where he can’t hurt you, but if you ordered him to do something different, he wouldn’t have a choice but to obey.”

  Vivien mused over that for a while. The thought was appealing, much more so than it had any right to be. With a few words, she could summon Brad at her side. How could she order him to do anything, though?

  He wasn’t just her guard; he was the man she loved. She wanted him back more than anything, but not enough to rob him of his free will. She’d never liked the idea of the oath Brad and Aedan had taken, but she realized it had been their choice and she could, albeit grudgingly, accept that much. Taking advantage of the oath, however, would feel like breaking their trust.

  “I’m going to go change,” she said, “and then go for a run. I imagine you’ll want to come along?”

  It was as close to an apology as she was ready to give him, but, judging from his small bow and even smaller smile, it might have been enough.

  * * * *

  Bradan didn’t know whether Ciara bothered knocking before she barged into his room. He woke up in a jump, blinking owlishly, every one of his senses on high alert and convinced that he was under attack.

  It took him a few seconds to orient himself. Ciara had shown him to a stark room the previous night, with a bed, a dresser, and a washing basin in a corner. No windows, which made sense: sunlight was dangerous. On the other hand, that meant he’d need to rely on the oil lamp on the dresser—the same oil lamp that Ciara was now lighting. Blinking again, now to adjust to the sudden brightness, Bradan watched her drop a small bundle of dark-gray clothes on the dresser.

  “Are you awake yet?” she demanded, turning to him with her hands on her hips. “It’s past midmorning already. Do you intend to lounge all day like a simpering High Lord? Didn’t Aedan teach you that following human hours is the first step in learning to live around humans?”

  The deluge of questions left Bradan tongue tied, and he struggled to answer the last one.

  “I… yes, he said… but with no windows, I didn’t…”

  He scrubbed his fingers through his hair, feeling slow and dim. And very, very hungry.

  Ciara clapped her hands once, making him jump.

  “All right, pay attention now. You are to wear these clothes at all times. Gray lets humans know that you are an untrained vampire so they can be on their guard. If you are not with me, you are to remain in here. You’re not allowed to roam through the castle on your own. I will take you to our kitchen to feed three times a day. If the hunger is such that you need to feed in addition to those three times, you will need to tell me.”

  For the first time, she paused in her recitation and grimaced briefly.

  “If I were your Maker, I’d be able to tell, but I’m not. I’ll have no idea so you need to tell me. Even if it’s at the most incon
venient time, even if you fed just an hour earlier, do not hide your hunger from me. Do you understand?”

  Bradan nodded. So far, she sounded like Aedan.

  “What if I’m not with you when the hunger gets too strong?” he asked. “Am I allowed to come find you, then?”

  She grimaced again, her gaze flitting down to his hand and the tattoo there.

  “That is a problem. Normally, you would be allowed to, but our king has placed restrictions on you, given whom you swear allegiance to. If one of the other guards finds you alone, they are under orders to kill you. I’ll do my best to check on you as often as I can.”

  The news left Bradan wordless for a moment. He hadn’t imagined he’d be welcomed with open arms in the palace, but he also hadn’t thought that he could be killed just for being out of his room on his own.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll be careful not to be where I shouldn’t. When will you start teaching me?”

  With no warning whatsoever and almost faster than he could see, she drew the knife from the sheath hanging from her belt and threw it at him. Time seemed to slow down, and Bradan could see more than a blur coming toward him; he could see every detail of the knife, the way it twirled in the air, the gleam of the oil lamp reflected against the silver blade.

  In that moment, he knew with absolute certainty that he could take hold of the flying knife with the Quickening. He’d never been able to when training with Aedan. Unable to visualize the knife clearly whenever Aedan threw it toward him, he’d never managed to do more than deflect it through the use of a shield. Now, though… Now he would seize it, pluck it right out of the air, and…

  And nothing.

  The Quickening refused to obey him. No, he remembered, horror-struck. The Quickening was lost to him.

  It was all he could do to fling himself to the floor before the knife could strike his arm. Instead, it embedded itself into the mattress. Breathing hard, he stared at the knife for a few seconds before turning wide eyes to Ciara. She crossed her arms as she observed him critically.