Blood Legacy: The Story of Ryan (32 page)

A cool hand startled her out of her feverish thoughts. She turned instinctively and sat upright, seeking a sword or a weapon to defend herself. But Marilyn was much faster than she and easily captured the flailing wrist.

“It’s just me,” Marilyn said, as if that should comfort her.

Ryan stared at the woman, still half-upright with her arm still in the defensive gesture. She slowly lowered the arm. Marilyn pushed her gently but firmly back onto the mattress and stretched out beside her.

“Victor sent me to watch you, he is concerned about you.”

Ryan turned her shoulder slightly, speaking under her breath. “He must be concerned if he sent you.”

In a flash, Marilyn pulled Ryan to her, her face so close to Ryan’s cheek could feel her breath on her neck. “Be careful, little one,” she whispered into her ear.

Marilyn released her, settling comfortably behind her. But Ryan was anything but comfortable, pressed up against the other woman. She lay stiffly for a few moments, but finally her fatigue began to overcome her and the stiffness seeped from her body.

Marilyn felt the girl relax and reached over to stroke her hair. Normally Ryan would not suffer such attention, but she was too tired to pretend the cool caress was unwelcome.

Marilyn was once again amazed at the effect this girl had on her. Under normal circumstances, a Young One, especially one who had just been bled, would hold no attraction for her. But Ryan’s vulnerability only seemed to heighten Marilyn’s desire. She knew the girl lying on the bed could offer her only token resistance in her current exhausted state.

Marilyn toyed with Ryan’s hair. She wondered why the girl was so feverish. Normally those who were bled were cold and pale. This one felt as if she were on fire. Marilyn put her cool hand on Ryan’s arm and felt a tingle of excitement at the heat emanating from her.

“And how was your evening?” Marilyn asked idly, still fingering her hair.

Marilyn felt the girl stiffen again. Ryan slowly turned to her and Marilyn saw fury in her eyes, the fury that was stoking the fire in her body.

And Marilyn saw something startling within that fury. A distance between Ryan and Victor that had never been there before.

It was the slightest whisper of invitation, a vague, sensual promise that Ryan would turn her considerable charm on Marilyn were the circumstances ever right and Victor ever wrong. It was astonishing for Marilyn to see because, in that instant, she understood how truly powerful Ryan would become, and how magnetic her attraction would be.

And then the whisper was gone and the veil behind Ryan’s eyes was replaced, leaving only the vaguest of impressions that anything had been there at all. She was once more a Young One who was simply angered and exhausted. Ryan turned onto her side once more, and within minutes was asleep.

Marilyn lay next to the sleeping girl and stared into the darkness, her eyes thoughtful.

Victor returned sometime before the morning light. He raised an eyebrow at Marilyn’s proximity to Ryan in the bed, but Marilyn seemed unwilling to engage in her typical banter with him. She gazed down at the sleeping girl next to her.

“It is her one weakness.”

Victor removed his outer coat, laying it at the foot of the bed. He glanced over at the contemplative woman. “And what might that be?”

Marilyn brushed a lock of hair out of Ryan’s eyes. “Her need for sleep. She sleeps much more than any of our Kind.”

Victor shrugged. “She has greater need of it than any of our Kind. She withstands more strain than most Old Ones could bear.”

Marilyn turned her attention to the handsome dark-haired man. “Yes, I’m well-aware of how demanding you can be.”

Victor ignored the innuendo in her voice, although he knew her words to be true. “I don’t think Ryan is nearly as vulnerable as you believe her to be. I did not ask you to stay here tonight so much to protect her as to keep her in check. Ryan can be very temperamental.”

Marilyn was thoughtful, thinking back to their earlier wordless exchange. Temperamental was an understatement. For the first time she wondered if Victor could indeed control the hot-blooded creature he had made.

Marilyn smiled ever so slightly. And she wondered if she could be strategically near if he failed.

CHAPTER 25

RYAN SWUNG THE AX IN A SMOOTH, practiced motion. The wood split cleanly down the center, each piece falling to the side. Jason sat a few feet away, watching the rhythmic motion.

“Can you teach me to do that?” he asked between chops.

Ryan set up another piece of wood on the block. She swung the ax up over shoulder in a graceful arc and brought it hurtling downward. She made it look effortless, but the speed with which the ax-head traveled was extraordinary.

“Maybe when you get a little older.”

Ryan set another piece of wood up. She had learned to chop wood when she was about his age, but children were raised differently these days. She paused. She had also had a few “advantages” that other children did not.

The ax came swinging downward once more, splitting the wood down the center. She bent down to pick up another block of wood when Jason’s next words stopped her in her tracks.

“I wish I had a dad like you.”

The incongruent phrase gave her pause. Ryan turned to look at the little boy. “Why a dad?” she asked, curious but not insulted.

“Because I already have a mom,” he replied with a 5 year-old’s logic.

“Oh,” Ryan said. She picked up the block of wood and set it on the stump. She glanced over a the boy. “What happened to your father?”

Jason looked down at the ground. “He died when I was little. In a plane crash.”

“Oh,” Ryan said in understanding. “My parents are dead, too.” Ryan hefted the ax handle, gazing at the blade. “I don’t think you’d want me to be your dad. I don’t think you’d like your new relatives.”

Jason was silent for a moment and Ryan set another piece of wood up. She was bringing the ax over her shoulder when he spoke again.

“Was your dad a lot like you?”

Ryan stopped the swing in mid-air. She turned away from the boy, fighting against the sudden loss of control. But the battle was quickly lost and with incredible force, she hurled the ax across the yard toward a large oak tree. The ax hurtled end-over-end until it embedded in the tree with a tremendous crack, splitting the tree down the middle.  Jason stared wide-eyed as Ryan stalked across the yard.

Susan had been watching the two from the glass door. At Ryan’s startling act of violence, she ran out to Jason. Edward was right behind her. She picked Jason up, clutching him to her breast, but he was not upset. He stared at the tree in wonder.

Edward watched as Ryan’s back disappeared into the afternoon shadows. He sighed and glanced to the pile of wood she had stacked, and to the tree she had destroyed. Ryan only chopped wood when something was bothering her.

Susan carried Jason back to the house, setting him down once they were inside. Jason was less frightened than concerned that he had upset Ryan. He looked up at Edward as the elder man re-entered the mansion.

“I didn’t mean to make her mad.”

Edward rarely acknowledged either of them so it surprised Susan when he paused, then actually sat down next to them.

“It’s not your fault,” he said in his very British accent, “Ryan has something of a bad temper.”

Susan was further surprised by the remark. Edward had never shown anything but unswerving loyalty to Ryan. The remark was not so much a criticism as an observation, but still, Susan had never heard him speak against her in any way. She had a sudden insight.

“You care for her a great deal, don’t you?”

Edward’s stiffness did not diminish in any way, but a fierce light burned in his eyes. “Ryan is my King. I live to serve her.”

Susan was a little taken aback at the fierceness of his reply, but she nodded. She was struck by the incongruous title. “Queen” would have seemed more appropriate for Ryan’s sex, yet somehow less appropriate for Ryan.

Jason seemed to have processed Ryan’s androgyny with little difficulty. “I want her to be my King, too.”

Edward looked down at the boy, and for the first time gazed at him with something akin to approval. “I think Ryan would commend you as a subject.” Jason smiled happily, then pushed himself off Susan’s lap to run and find his puppy. Edward turned back to Susan. “Although your presence here is problematic.”

Susan bristled. “Problematic? Remember, we are not here by choice. It was Ryan’s decision to bring us here.”

Edward’s face remained impassive. “And a wise decision it was. At least your presence here guarantees she will no longer place herself in danger trying to protect you.”

Susan could not disguise her sarcasm. “I find it difficult to believe that Ryan is in danger from anything.”

Edward glanced out the window toward the toppled oak tree. Several gardeners were already removing the debris. “Perhaps endangered is not the appropriate expression. You have placed her at a strategic disadvantage.”

Susan was angry. “What do you mean by that?”

Edward turned to her and his reproach was evident. “You set a chain of events in motion when you published your work. Ryan has no equals; she has no weaknesses. You,” he said emphatically, “are now her weakness.”

Susan stood up. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

But Edward stood up as well, firmly grasping her elbow. “Listen to me, Dr. Ryerson.”

The urgency in his voice made Susan pause.

“I encouraged Ryan to kill you, but she would not because she felt sympathy for your son. Now I believe she holds a certain fondness for you. That does not change the fact that you are a liability to her.”

Susan pulled her arm away. She stood up to her full height, although she was still considerably shorter than he was.

“My son and I are ready to leave anytime you wish to disobey your ‘master’,” she said cuttingly.

She turned on her heel and stormed from the room. Edward watched her retreating back, his face impassive.

Ryan knocked on Susan’s door several hours later. Susan let her in, noting something odd about Ryan’s appearance. She finally realized what it was. Ryan looked tired.

“Is Jason all right?” Ryan asked.

Susan motioned for her to come in. “Yes,” she said, “in fact, he’s ready to swear his undying loyalty to you.”

Ryan smiled, running her hand through her hair. The gesture was so uncharacteristic, it made Ryan look even younger than the 19 years she had claimed at one time.

“I understand you and Edward exchanged words.”

“Ah yes,” Susan said. She sat down. “He feels that we are a ‘liability’ of sorts.”

Ryan sat down as well. “That does not surprise me. That’s the lawyer in him talking.”

Susan was surprised. “Edward is a lawyer?”

Ryan nodded. “Oh yes, Edward is many things to me. But he’s primarily my attorney. He runs my business affairs and my estate. He is quite excellent, and knows more about the law than any person on this planet.”

Susan digested this information and Ryan continued. “I used to be a lawyer.”

This seemed to be some sort of private joke to Ryan.

“What do you mean by that?” Susan asked.

“When I was young, it was very common to challenge witnesses by battle. You could literally accuse someone of lying, and if you beat them in combat, then they were lying. On the other hand, if you lost, then you were lying. Truth had very little to do with it.” Ryan was thoughtful. “The legal system really hasn’t changed that much.”

“And how were you involved in this?”

Ryan leaned over and picked up an elaborate letter opener from the table between them. She hefted the weight of it in her hand.

“It was quite lucrative to freelance as a ‘champion of truth,’ if you will. All of justice became a fight between mercenaries. Those who could hire the best mercenaries, those were the ones justice favored.” Ryan replaced the letter opener. “Like I said, things haven’t changed that much.”