‘You’re Saar? The whole time? It was you?’
‘I’m sorry.’
She scrambled to her feet. ‘Sorry? Dad this is impossible. You died!’
‘You thought I died. I couldn’t risk them knowing before I was ready.’
Kallisto gave a tiny whimper. She threw herself to her knees in the grass, pressing her forehead to the floor. She spread both arms out before her, palms flat. Her body shook. ‘Father, Forgive me. You’ve aged more in the last two hundred years than you ever did in the previous two thousand. How have you done this?’
Ray crouched and touched the top of her head with the tips of his fingers. ‘Faking my death is something I’ve become necessarily good at. You should be the one to forgive me.’
She sighed, eyes glassy and wide. Her lower lip trembled. She sat up far enough to clutch his fingers. ‘I missed you. And I looked for you every day.’
‘I know.’ After slowly easing his hand away, Ray picked his way across the grass to the trio of altars. He stopped in front of Lenina. ‘You okay?’
She opened her mouth but no words came out.
He slipped past her to the nearest altar and grabbed a handful of chains. Two quick tugs broke the lot and he helped Jordan into a sitting position. ‘Come get your brother, Chuck. Now,’ he added, when she hesitated.
She did, though not without several glances over her shoulder at the other god-touched on the grass.
None moved. Most knelt in that odd pose with the left hand extended, others of them copied Kallisto and bowed right down until their lips kissed the grass. Even the Seekers onstage had bowed, forcing Tristen to join them by pressing their hands to the back of his head.
Jordan sagged like old lettuce when she reached him. Slinging one arm over her shoulder, she eased him down from the altar then took his weight against her body.
Next, Ray approached his wife. He gazed at her with such love in his eyes that Lenina almost forgot where she was. She remembered that look; it featured prominently in her most cheerful memories.
He broke the chains and scooped her into his arms. ‘How you doing?’ he asked her.
Grace turned her face into his chest and snuggled close. ‘I’m okay—but Lenina—they thought she was you.’
‘I know, love. I know.’ Slowly, he pulled her wrist to his mouth. A quick flick of his tongue cleared the blood away and coated the small wound with saliva.
Lenina closed her open mouth with a snap, gaping as her father reached across to perform the same licking motion on her brother’s limp arm. ‘She knew?’ Her stomach knotted into a painful snarl.
‘Not really the sort of secret I could keep from my wife.’
As he spoke, Lenina recognised the voice from her dreams and visions. In that moment she couldn’t understand how she missed the truth. Thousands of times throughout her life she had heard that voice; when caught stealing cookies before dinner, when Jordan kicked a football through the kitchen window, when she herself filled the sofa cushions with sand. Saar’s voice, but also her father’s.
‘But you could keep it from me?’ She bit her lip until it bled. ‘Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?’ Her voice became louder, shriller. As if some great dam had broken, a flood gushed from her lips. ‘I came here thinking you were dead. I’ve spent hours terrified Mum and Jordan would be next. I fought . . . I got stabbed . . . I nearly killed someone. Again! And the whole time you were alive. How could you?’ She listened to the questions whirling through her head. Dozens, hundreds, thousands. Her mind seemed fit to burst with the influx of thoughts and confusions and paradoxes. But she couldn’t voice any of it. None of the words seemed strong enough.
Ray flinched. ‘We’ll talk later. I promise.’
‘Promise?’ Kallisto leapt to her feet. Tears shimmered in her eyes, a pink tinge streaking down her cheeks. ‘What do your promises mean? The girl asks “How could you?” and I echo her. Could you not feel us waiting? We were so scared after Waterloo. We are your children and you abandoned us.’
Ray tightened his grip on Grace and stared at the floor. ‘You didn’t need me.’
‘Of course we did. We still do, no matter what the likes of Bomani and Hahn say. How were we ever to win our war without our leader?’ Her tiny hands curled into fists. ‘I searched for you. I gave up everything and yet you were here making a family.’ Her lip twisted, that familiar curl of distaste, as though her tongue had an unpleasant taste. ‘With a human. Why?’
Though it clearly cost him, Ray met Kallisto’s accusing stare. ‘I remembered what love was.’
‘You love me! I’m your daughter and I love you as a father.’
For the first time Lenina felt a stab of pity for Kallisto. If her own pain and confusion was harrowing and unexpected, she could only imagine the other girl’s agony. Two hundred years of believing her father dead to then see him alive and whole, with a new family. She stared at the old god-touched and reached out to her. ‘I didn’t realise—’
‘Do not touch me!’ Kallisto jerked away. ‘You’re a fake. A lie. An abomination. How can you have his memories when he is alive and whole? You’re an unnatural beast! I should have let Tristen destroy you.’
The sympathy quickly dissolved. ‘I want you to know I understand.’
‘I do not need your pity.’ The shorter god-touched turned towards Ray. ‘But you’re returned, as you promised. Nothing can sully this beautiful, glorious night. You’re here and all those present know my faith was justified.’
Bomani shifted uncomfortably at the venomous look shot her way.
‘We’ll renew the fight for supremacy with all the weapons and techniques of the modern day.’ Her eyes brightened with feverish enthusiasm. All around, the other god-touched, one by one, lifted their heads from the floor and watched with nervous glances. ‘Politics is the cruellest, harshest art in the world yet many of the new Blood are well versed in its laws. You’ll see, Father, within a year we’ll have Egypt, within two, the whole of Rome’s old empire. After that . . . we’ll hold the world, as Set always intended.’ By the end of her speech Kallisto’s chest heaved and her fingers twitched. ‘Speak, Father.’
Ray looked at her, then at the huge crowd of god-touched. His jaw tightened. ‘You kidnapped my family, tortured my daughter—’
‘We are your family.’ Kallisto beat her chest with the flat of her hand. The other, she waved to include the gathered god-touched. ‘We did what had to be done to bring you back.’
‘I didn’t want to be back.’ Without raising his voice, Ray caught the attention of everyone gathered. Anger leaked into his eyes. A muscle in the side of his jaw knotted and began to pulse. ‘I allowed you to believe I was dead, wasn’t that clue enough?’
Low murmurs rustled through the crowd.
Lenina clung tighter to Jordan and inched her way towards Shawn. He hadn’t moved—not that he could—but his eyes were lively and filled with fear. When he tried to speak, she shook her head and propped Jordan against the altar long enough to break the chains, one at a time. The policeman sat up, cradling his broken arm with a grimace.
Kallisto wrung her hands. ‘No, you were forced—Tristen’s treachery weakened you.’
‘You know that’s not true. The sooner you accept it, the sooner we can all go on with our lives. It’s over, understand? Your “search” is done.’
Silence.
Then, a cough. A splutter. A low, rasping wheeze and a hiss of painful laughter.
Tristen twisted free of the Seekers who made token efforts to restrain him. Though slow, he took steady, determined steps down to ground level and across the grass. When he reached Shawn’s altar he stood a little straighter, though his pale face, white eyes and long fangs gave away the effort such movement cost him.
‘There you have it, people. Just what I’ve known all along. This is the man you’ve been pining for. He doesn’t even want to be here! You’ve searched and searched and is he grateful?’ He spat at the ground, a thick glob of blood
studded with chips of white. ‘Of course not. Because he has new priorities now. You’ve not changed, Saar, still dumping everything inconvenient or not immediately useful.’
Lenina whirled towards him, but a raised hand from Ray stopped her.
‘At least you’re honest. You’ve changed from when we last met.’
‘From when you shook my hand in Lenina’s living room or when I stabbed you in your black, shrivelled heart?’
A collective gasp rippled through the gathered crowd.
Tristen sucked his teeth.
Though the revelation was no surprise to Lenina, she couldn’t help but flinch at the venom in Tristen’s voice. The signature of his sire-bond pulsed furiously, a swelling tide of fury and disgust. ‘Really? That shocks you? After hearing your “great master” wasn’t dead after all, you’re shocked I tried to kill him?’
Kallisto looked ready to strip the skin from his flesh. Her eyes darkened to their god-touched black while her hands opened and closed.
‘You’re stronger with Shalat than any god-touched I’ve ever known. Perhaps more than me.’ Ray shook his head. He smiled, but not like he was happy. ‘Though it helps that people believe what they want to believe.’
‘They believe what I want them to believe.’ He glanced at Lenina and licked his lips, long, slow and teasing with the tip of his tongue. ‘You’re beautiful, you’re special . . .’ He rubbed a slow hand down his chest and stomach, just shy of groping himself. ‘Pathetic.’
Lenina balled her fist, but Shawn got there first. He swung with his uninjured arm, cracking his knuckles against Tristen’s jaw.
Though he stumbled, the blow clearly didn’t take much from him, because Tristen righted himself quickly and gave a shrug. ‘If I have to die, I’ll do it knowing I finally won. I destroyed your family, Saar, the same way you destroyed mine when you started chasing Mosi.’
A prickling layer of tension fell over the gathering. All eyes turned to Ray.
‘Never say that name again.’ Ray’s eyes didn’t darken. They didn’t need to. His thunderous expression carried the weight of his words. ‘He was, and remains, worth ten of you. He was the best of all of us.’
Her father’s reaction stunned Lenina almost as much as the truth about his past. Even after two thousand years, Saar’s love for Mosi burned as hot as ever it had. The understanding bemused and warmed her.
‘Kill him, Father. Show everyone what happens to those who defy you.’ Kallisto’s voice hissed through the still. Fangs showed between her lips.
‘Nobody is dying tonight, Kallisto.’
‘Father—’
‘No.’ The force of his anger hammered the air. A small number of the gathered god-touched cried out, scratching at their arms and necks. Others, no doubt the younger ones, shifted uneasily and crowded together.
Lenina flinched beneath the sensation as it lashed her skin like hot barbs doused in salt water. ‘Daddy, stop.’
Instantly, the feeling passed. ‘Sorry, Chuck.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Two hundred years I’ve avoided you and ten minutes after revealing myself, even the youngest of you can feel me. I went to a lot of trouble to shield myself.’
Yameen chose that moment to take his feet. ‘Father, I had my doubts but your power prickles through me like the old days. It fills me with joy and I feel your mind for the first time in two centuries. I missed you.’ He bowed. ‘I’m ready to serve again; yours, now and forever.’
‘No.’ Ray lowered his hands and let Grace slip to the ground. He pushed her behind him and held her steady against his back. ‘This isn’t what I want.’
But goaded by Yameen, others began to stand. Some slowly, some fast, but soon all were standing and looking towards him. Their whispers were five words repeated over and over: ‘I’m yours, now and forever.’
Kallisto, her expression wild with delight, repeated the words.
Ray waved his hands. The whispers eventually died. ‘I’m not here to lead. I revealed myself because one of you idiots Kissed my daughter and kidnapped my wife and son. You forced my hand, but I’m here for them, not you.’
‘But you are here,’ said Yameen. ‘Would you abandon us again?’
‘From where I stand you’ve done well enough. There are god-touched men and women all over the world. Thousands. Perhaps millions.’
‘It’s what you wanted.’
‘I wanted to reclaim my home. I never wanted my curse to spread so far that even humans have a name for us.’ His mouth turned down at one corner. ‘Vampires? There are books about us, films, comics, toys . . . you think that is what I wanted?’
Kallisto cut across Yameen’s attempt to respond. ‘An army without a captain cannot fight. A ship without a rudder cannot sail. A man without a heart cannot live. You are our heart, Saar. Is it any wonder we drifted without you?’
‘You didn’t drift, you sailed off course full speed and refused to stop even when you hit the rocks.’ Ray turned, taking in the crowd of watching god-touched. ‘Is that really what you want?’
‘Yes!’ Kallisto’s beaded necklaces clattered about her neck as she jerked a pace forward. ‘All this,’ she waved her hand, ‘is for you. Say the word and I’ll be at your side as I once was.’
Lenina watched her father and marvelled again at the truth. And his pain. From the gnawing of his thumbnail to the grinding of his teeth, from the tense shoulders, to the furrowed forehead, she saw the worry. The frustration. The indecision.
‘And the rest of you?’ he said at last.
‘Assuming you really don’t plan to kill me, I’m out of here,’ snapped Tristen. ‘I tried to kill you once and if I thought it would do any good I’d try again. I’ll be my own damn rudder.’ Spinning on his heel, he limped around the end of the altar and off across the grass towards the house.
With a snarl, Kallisto moved to intercept, but Ray raised his hand. ‘Let him go.’
‘But—’
‘Do as I say.’
She shrank back, watching the tall figure stalk away with a look in her eye that promised murder.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lenina waited on the edge of the altar. She longed to speak, but the tense expectation of the crowd made the words stick in her mouth. Besides, with all eyes on her father, she didn’t think anybody would care what she had to say. Or that they would hear it.
With a single step forward, Ray began to speak. ‘If you want to follow me, then you will do as I say. You can’t have it both ways. Either I lead you now and we move forward together, or you get out of my way and let me live in peace.’
‘Two hundred years can’t be so long that you’ve forgotten my promises to you.’ Kallisto sniffed, her voice wavering between petulance and frustration. ‘Long ago, I vowed to follow you. To honour you. To love you. Nothing has changed.’
‘Don’t say that until you’re sure.’
‘I am certain of it.’
Ray took his time to look at the crowd, to catch each gaze one by one. ‘If you follow me, you follow my way. You agree, from this night to obey my new law and spread it far and wide.’
Mumbles. Eager nods. Shuffling.
An expectant hush followed.
‘Daddy—’
He raised a hand. Kept talking. ‘You agree to show mercy, compassion and a little bit of common sense. You agree to using Xamesh only in times of direst need and not for superficial, personal gain. You agree that humans are not cattle or fodder for more god-touched, but a beautiful, wise and delicate creature to be respected and nurtured. You agree to watch and protect them. You agree to no more killing.’
A voice from the back of the crowd called through the stunned silence. ‘But what about tribute?’
‘Set demands tribute, but he doesn’t ask for death. And to sustain yourselves you don’t need to kill.’
Lenina looked at the crowd. Bit her lip. ‘Daddy—’
‘Wait, Chuck. More than twenty years have passed since my last tribute and I’m as strong as ever I’ve bee
n. My connection with Set is whole and perhaps stronger than it ever was in the years before Waterloo. You can do the same.’
Someone in the crowd scoffed. Another frowned. Low murmurs rose amongst the huddle of bodies and Lenina felt the hand of unease trail a cold finger down her spine. Nothing to do with god-touched gifts, just the survival instinct that kept the human race at the top of the food chain.
‘Dad!’ She tugged on his arm. When he turned, mouth open to dismiss her again, she cut him off with a sharp shake of the head. ‘Look at them—this isn’t what they want to hear.’
‘It doesn’t matter—’
‘No? Look at them.’
Kallisto growled under her breath. ‘This is some jest to spite me.’
‘Not a joke.’ Shrugging off Lenina’s grip, Ray put himself back before the crowd. ‘This is my command.’
The little god-touched stared at him, mouth agape. Her fangs sank back into her gum line. She tucked a silky lock of dark hair behind her ear and nibbled her bottom lip. ‘It cannot be.’
‘I’m tired, Kallisto. My wife is weak and tired. So is my son. They’re stable, but I can’t help them here. All I want to do is go home with my family.’
‘Father, please. We are your family. I’m your daughter.’
‘Perhaps once.’
‘And so I remain. Please, don’t do this. What of our home? Our plans?’
‘I have a home. It’s in London with Grace and Jordan . . . and Lenina. When she bothers to visit.’
Kallisto whimpered. ‘No. You cannot mean it.’ She stared at the crowd of god-touched, still watching, still stunned. ‘Protect humans? Abstain from tribute? None of us have your power Saar, to do so would kill us all.’
‘I didn’t mean stop completely, I mean only take what you need when you need it. The skill and control is easy to learn—’
She shook her head again. ‘No. I listen to you and do you know what I hear? I hear the moon puppies and their ridiculous notion that they must live in harmony with humans. That they must work alongside them. No! We are god-touched, blessed by a deity with a portion of his power and strength. That doesn’t make us shepherds for humans, but their betters. Leaders. Masters.’ She looked for Ray to support and found none, just a cool, stony gaze and a tilted chin. Her gaze fell on Lenina. ‘You. This is your fault.’
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