by Maria Lima
"We will stand by you,” Niko said with a formal bow. “We are your seconds."
Tucker echoed Niko's bow and took my hand. “Niko stocked some fresh deer blood in the fridge. I'll bring it down."
* * * *
Adam lay exactly as I'd seen him last night, flat on his back, no sign that not two days prior he'd been awake, normal (for a vampire), as alive as he would ever be. I stood near the head of the bed, Niko to my left, Tucker kneeling on the bed next to Adam. I closed my eyes and whispered a swift prayer to whatever powers may be. Despite my resolve, I did not want to die today ... nor tomorrow, nor anytime in the foreseeable future. What I wanted was for Adam to get enough blood to revive, Tucker and Niko to be able to restrain him long enough for me to get away and give him the pouch of deer blood. If this worked, he could feed from the deer blood and restore his health. Then, at some point in the very foreseeable future, he and I were going to have that talk we'd put off.
If this didn't work, he would be alive, I'd be dead and I hoped my brother and Tucker could run faster than a newly-revived vampire, as I had no doubt Adam would first blame them, and then himself. Of course, I'd be dead and wouldn't care.
I knew I was hesitating, but couldn't help it. Now I was here, on the brink of doing this and my hand wouldn't open the knife. It was the same useful pocketknife I'd used to cut Bea's bonds and Pete Garza used to cut the rope to bind Bea. A souvenir? Maybe.
With a flick and a gasp of pain, I brought the sharp edge to my wrist, slicing the skin. I held my arm over Adam's mouth, letting a drop, a second drop fall directly on his lips. I moved closer and squeezed with my other hand, forcing the drops to fall more quickly.
The silence from the three of us grew thick as drop joined drop and slid across Adam's lips, down his face and onto the pristine sheet below him. No reaction.
I squeezed again, biting my tongue against the sting. With a gasp, Adam convulsed, back arching as a spasm rolled through his body. His lips opened. Tongue flicked out and licked. An arm whipped up from the bed and grabbed my wrist, bringing it to him. He rose to a seated position, eyes still shut, bowed his head, opened his mouth and began to feed, his fangs sinking into my wrist as if the flesh was nothing more than cotton candy. I barely felt the pain.
I close my eyes and hold on as he drinks, drinks, drinks. Beside me, I feel Niko move forward, his body bumping mine as he tries to pry Adam off me. Adam is too strong. Tucker's voice reaches me, “Adam, let go!” he shouts, the words too loud in my ears. I go inside myself, trying to reach Adam, trying to find the bond that connects us. It is there, faint, pulsing with the beat of my own heart, of Adam's as it finds me. Adam. Adam, stop now. You can stop. He growls at me, soundlessly. I hear it in my head. I gasp and arch, the pleasure rocketing through me as he takes more. Sex and blood, it's always about that. I cup my free hand on the back of Adam's neck and with what strength I have left I grasp his hair and yank. He fights me, latching on even stronger, his left hand holding my wrist to his mouth. His right arm wraps around my waist to hold me closer. My eyelids flutter as I begin to lose consciousness. The edges of my awareness darken, confetti lights flicker behind my lids, flashes of fire.
"Hold on, Keira."
I think I hear someone say that.
"Hold on."
I dig in, hold. Focus, I think. Focus. It's hard to do when your brain is feeling like warm Jell-O. As Adam drinks deeper, I start slipping, as if I'm going to let myself fade, to let go. I fight again, but it's too much, I can't keep my grasp. Beneath me, my darkness beckons, that piece of me that woke up earlier tonight, that I let surface. I find it, embrace it, it melds to me, becomes me. I push it in front of me, make it take the force of Adam's hunger. I feel it fill me now, become whole with me. I no longer fade. A new energy surges through my body.
With a wrench and a gasp, I pull on Adam's hair again, and this time, his head snaps back, away from my skin. I hold him there and quickly move my other hand to his chest, holding him back.
"Adam Walker,” I said. “Stop."
Time slowed to a crawl as our gazes met. Green eyes stared into my own grey. With a rush and a snap, everything was back to normal.
"Keira, I'm—” Adam scrabbled back on the bed, moving as far back as he could. Niko, still behind him, grasped Adam's arms, enough to steady him.
"No, don't. Enough.” I moved closer. “No more recriminations or guilt. You did not hurt me."
"I could have killed you.” The look of horror on his face made me want to either slap him or hug him.
"Adam, I'm fine. Look.” I showed him my wrist, which had stopped bleeding. I knew by all rights, I should be flat out on the floor, either dead or close to it, needing a transfusion. I wasn't.
"How did you?” He approached me with caution. “What happened?"
"The short version? One of my Sidhe relatives has been stalking me since I got here thirty years ago. When you showed up, he discovered your power, your energy was a yummy treat. I showed him the error of his ways."
Adam's brow furrowed. “Meaning?"
I sank down on the bed, letting myself relax a moment. Niko followed suit, sitting on Adam's other side. Tucker stayed where he was.
"It's a long, long story, Adam, and has to do with collusion, family politics and all sorts of stupidity,” I replied. “I'll explain later.” As in much. “Meantime...” I crawled closer to him and wrapped my arms around him. “You're safe. You're well,” I whispered. “Stay that way."
He returned the embrace, tightening his arms around me. “Ditto."
We all four giggled as Adam and I relaxed. What a hell of a few of days. Tucker quickly gave Adam the highlights of all the goings-on. Niko sat and basked in Adam's presence. I was doing much of the same. Except, unlike Niko and Tucker, there was something I wasn't telling.
In the final moments when I let go, I knew immediately what happened. I'd Changed. And with that change, came a transformation I was absolutely not ready to acknowledge to anyone, least of all myself.
I finally knew why my Change process had taken so long, had been so unusual. With that understanding, came the awareness Gigi had known along. I was the Kelly heir.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Before I could begin to contemplate what the hell I was going to do next as my great-great-granny's heir, the slam of the front door and a clatter down the steps heralded a visitor.
"Keira!” The happy tones of my aunt Isabel preceded her entrance. Behind her, an obviously frazzled John, the human day manager.
"Sir, my apologies. I couldn't stop her.” John threw out his hands in frustration.
I shook my head. “Better men than you have tried and failed, John.” My brother, who'd risen in preparation for attack, sank back on the bed and let out a long laugh.
"Keira, well, it's about damned time,” Isabel scolded.
"Shouldn't that be my line?” I retorted. “We've been calling you."
My aunt tsked and walked over to the bed, fixing me with her amber-eyed gaze, head cocked like a curious bird. “You've Changed,” she proclaimed. “Looks like old fangface here has his uses after all. Ta very much. Now, we need to go."
I jerked up from my comfortable lean against Adam. “What?"
"Go where?” Adam demanded. “And who the hell are you?"
Isabel waved a dismissive hand. “I am her Aunt Isabel and you are the reason she finally Changed."
Tucker stared at Isabel, then at me and Adam. Niko looked puzzled. John, smart man, had sneaked back up the stairs and away from this crazy mess.
"Adam is?” I squeaked. “I don't understand."
"It's a long story, Keira,” Isabel began. No doubt, I thought. Everything's a long story today. “It's not told to you until you reach maturity."
"You? Meaning me?” I ask. “That sounded like a specific and not a generic."
"Of course.” She harrumphed and placed her fists on her generous hips. I hadn't actually noticed until now, but she was dressed in some strange combin
ation of Tuareg robes and gypsy skirts. She wore ankle-high fabric boots and her ears jangled with several hooped earrings. Isabel's long dark hair curled past her shoulders and halfway down her back. Two small braids fell down the sides of her face, each with a ribbon woven into it. My aunt, the fashion diva? Only if you were fond of Stevie Nicks in her velvet and lace days, I suppose.
"By ‘you',” Isabel continued, “I mean Changelings of the blood. You don't Change the same way as the others. By all rights, you should have been told once the symptoms began."
"Why wasn't I?” I demanded. Adam's arm tightened around my waist. He'd not let me go since Isabel had come fluttering into the room.
"I was on trek, on walkabout, in search of a plant and healing spell known only to the nomads of northern Africa,” she said. “I received an e-mail from Jane catching me up on things about a week or two ago. She'd sent it months ago, but it was the first time I was near enough to civilization to get to an Internet café. Somewhere in Morocco, I think.” She gave me a faraway smile.
"Isabel,” I said sharply. “Your point?"
"Those of you who are of the Blood must force the change,” Isabel said. “It is not a natural, easy process. Last time this happened in my own recollection was your own great-great-grandmother, Minerva. Too long ago for most living clan to remember firsthand. She was but a child, a mere thirty-nine years. I realized this after the e-mail. I'd been studying some old texts as part of my research on the healing plant, and had come across the record some weeks ago. Then, voila, I knew I had to come to you."
I let my head fall back onto Adam's shoulder. Great, just great. Changed for five minutes and she'd actually outed me to everyone present. I wanted to hide.
"Keira, I'm not sure I'm processing this all correctly,” said Tucker. “But did she say what I thought she said?"
"No,” I lied. “It's all a figment of your imagination. In fact, the entire last three days have been nothing but a really bad dream. In a few minutes, I'm going to go over there, take a shower and come back out and Adam is going to sit up in bed and tell me he had the strangest dream. And then we're going to go on vacation—somewhere preferably far away from all of this."
Tucker's laugh showed a little strain. “This isn't Dallas, Keira—and you're not Patrick Ewing."
I shut my eyes. “It could be."
"What does this mean, Keira?” Adam asked me gently.
It means I'm the bloody freaking heir to the Kelly clan and next in line to take over when my dear great-great-grandmaman, Minerva Kelly, known as Gigi to me and my brothers, decides she's had enough of the politics and business and running this circus known as the Kelly clan and abdicates. Then it's my turn. Hi, universe? Do not want this. At all.
Isabel answered him. “She's the heir, Adam,” she said, her tone solemn. “Keira has Changed and is now adult in our family. Unlike the rest of us, she is not limited to one talent, one power, but has inherited them all."
Adam straightened behind me. “You are queen?"
"Not until Gigi steps down,” I said. “And that's not going to be for a very, very long time.” I mentally crossed my fingers and sent up a prayer. Please.
"Very well then.” Isabel clapped her hands. “Now that everyone is all better. Time's wasting. Let's go."
"Where?” The word came out before I could clamp my lips against it. I should know better.
"I need you. Gideon is dying."