Blood Redemption (27 page)

Saber chose to ignore the last half of that statement. “And by mess up, that means—”

“That means if you take the life of an innocent while feeding. If you threaten, or
in any way harm, any member of the house of Jadon or the surrounding human population.
If you commit any act of treason by consorting with the enemy, the house of Jaegar.”

“So, I can’t contact my only remaining brother, Diablo?”

“To what end?” Napolean asked. Before Saber could reply, he added, “Again, vampire;
it’s as I said—I can feel you. I will know your motivations. So I suggest you proceed
with caution.”

“And Vanya? My son?” Saber asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

Napolean sighed deeply then. “I’m not your father, Saber. I’m not your conscience
or your god. I can’t tell you how to go forward with regard to the personal matters
of your life; and contrary to what you might believe, I don’t police the sons of Jadon.
They aren’t perfect. They make choices; they make mistakes. And I let them. But in
terms of the princess, I will say this: She has asked you to respect her will, her
choice, and she has agreed to let you live your life, such as it may be. You will…honor
her…as the priceless gift to the house of Jadon that she is. To me, that means
respect
. The how of it? That’s beyond my reach or my responsibility. You’re a grown male.”

Saber stared deep into the king’s eyes, searching for signs of what, he didn’t know,
just wanting to somehow categorize this enigmatic vampire into a neat box that he
could deal with: friend, enemy, oppressor…opportunity? The world was so mystifying
now. So hard to understand and predict.

To navigate.

“All right,” Saber finally replied, not knowing what else there was to say. “I guess
we’ll see what happens then.” With that, he took a deep breath, turned on his heel,
and began to stroll out into the endless night.

“Saber,” the king called after him.

Saber took a deep breath and slowly turned around. “Yeah?”

“Here.” The king tossed two small leather objects in Saber’s direction, and catching
them both easily, Saber glanced down to survey the articles. The first was a beige
leather wallet. Opening it, he thumbed through a host of crisp one-hundred-dollar
bills, the sum appearing at first glance to be about two thousand dollars. Beneath
the bills, tucked into the stiff, horizontal pouches, were two remaining items: a
driver’s license and a business card, the latter bearing information about the Dark
Moon Vale Bank.

“The cash should be enough to get you started,” Napolean explained. “As for the license,
I assume you can drive?”

Saber smirked. “Yeah, I can drive.” He smiled despite himself then. “But I didn’t
think you guys would be into the fake ID business.”

Napolean waved his hand in frank dismissal, if not slight derision. “Human customs
grow tedious, but we do live among them. So yes, we do what we must to remain concealed
and placate the locals. As for the bank,” he added, “it’s a similar front. It’s owned,
at least on paper, by one of our loyal human families. They know who we are…and what
we are…and they would never betray us. Once you are on your feet, anything you need
may be taken care of there: credit cards, various accounts, whatever you feel like
you need.”

Saber rubbed his brow with his thumb and forefinger. He had no idea what this meant—was
he expected to get a
human
job? To take out a loan when the cash was gone? It made no difference: In eight hundred
years, Saber had mastered more trades and skills than he could count. If all else
failed, he could always create gemstones by harnessing his emotions and infusing them
into the local rocks. A handful of diamonds produced a lot of human cash. “Cool,”
Saber replied casually, “and this?” He held up the small leather pouch, bound at the
tip with what appeared to be a very old, if not ancient, leather strap.

Napolean took an intimidating step forward then, his long, black-and-silver hair swaying
in what was almost an otherworldly radiance behind him. Without aplomb, he placed
both hands on Saber’s biceps, each one, just below the vampire’s shoulders. “If you
had remained in the house of Jadon, your father would have brought you before me for
your naming ceremony. At that time, I would have accepted your name before the gods,
acknowledged Serpens as your deity, recorded your ties in the annals of our people,
and welcomed you into the house of Jadon. I would have also taken your blood in a
more—how shall I say?—ceremonial fashion than the way it was done in that cell. However,
none of that had a chance to occur; and I make no false assumptions that you have
any desire to take your once-rightful place among us now.” He sighed regretfully.
“Or that you actually
have
a
rightful
place among us now. Much of that remains to be seen. However, I would have also given
that pouch to your father in private, and upon turning twenty-one years old, graduating
from the local academy, your father would have given it back to you at your formal
induction ceremony. That opportunity is seven hundred and eighty years overdue.”

Saber looked down at the age-worn pouch, not at all sure that he wanted to view its
contents. “What’s in it?”

Napolean’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw turned paradoxically soft yet stern at the same
time. “It contains the signet ring bearing the crest of the house of Jadon on it,
the one our males wear on the fourth finger of their right hands.”

Saber practically recoiled.

He took an involuntary step back as if the king had suddenly burned him, and simply
glared at the being in front of him. He opened his mouth to protest, then just as
quickly closed it, at a complete loss for words. “
Why
…” he finally uttered.

Napolean appeared undaunted, as if he had expected the reaction. “Because it is—or
at least it once was—your birthright.” He held up his hand to halt any further protest.
“But don’t get it twisted, son; it isn’t a gift. When our males slip the Crest Ring
on their fingers, they also kneel before the whole of the house of Jadon; they slice
their left wrist in a symbolic gesture, offering their blood as a sacrifice to the
people; and they pledge their loyalty, protection, and service to not only their Sovereign
but to our continued existence as a species. It a great honor, but an even larger
responsibility.”

Saber didn’t know what to say. He felt the right corner of his lip turn up in his
signature scowl, but he couldn’t contain it.
Was the king kidding
?

“I didn’t give you that pouch, that ring, so you could casually slip it on your finger
when or if it suits you.” His set his jaw in a stern line. “I gave it to you to carry
around, to feel the weight of it both literally and figuratively. To know that it
is there, at least in potential, should you one day choose to be more than you are
today.”

Saber thought about the sacred customs of the house of Jaegar, the house he had grown
up in, the formal induction ceremony where the males ultimately pledged their undying
hearts—first, last, and only—to the house of their rebirth, to the royal Prince Jaegar,
to all his descendants, and to the dark lords who granted them life. Saber had made
that pledge a very long time ago, and he felt like he was going to be sick. His head
was spinning. The ground was shifting subtly beneath him, making him dizzy. It was
all too much to take in, to even comprehend, let alone consider.

Not sure whether he should toss the pouch to the ground and risk the king’s wrath
or offer some poignant words of recognition, he slipped the pouch into his jeans’
front pocket, instead, not bothering to even look at it.

At least not then.

Napolean nodded, and then he stretched out his right hand, indicating the wooded expanse
before them, as if he were Moses himself signifying the Red Sea. “Your future awaits
you, Saber. You may choose to live or die as you will. And as long as you keep our
laws, I will not interfere by making that choice for you.” He bowed his head in silent
reflection then. “I hope you find peace.”

Saber looked off into the endless distance, at the rocky crevices and looming mountain
peaks of the Dark Moon Forest, the endless groupings of junipers and pines, standing
in utter indifference as they dotted the landscape. He glanced toward the rising hills
and hidden caverns that were well beyond his sight: So, this was it then.

His future.

Bowing his head in a gesture of retreat more than respect, he slipped away into the
night.

Vanya Demir pushed the sleek, ultra-modern stroller under the shade of a narrow-leaf
cottonwood tree, applied the foot brake, and closed the sun shade to provide the infant
with some protection from the ever-seeking rays of the sun. “Now stay put,” she whispered
lovingly to the cooing, wriggling child lying inside the mesh cradle.

“And just where do you think he might go?” Ciopori asked, laughing. She set her own
seven-month-old son down on a large, quilted blanket beneath the shade of the same
tree, laid out a bright assortment of toys for him to play with, and peered inside
the stroller. “My gosh, he is a handsome somebody, is he not?”

Vanya smiled proudly. “Handsome and very alert already. I think he wants to see the
entire world in a day.”

Ciopori positively beamed. She bent over and placed a gushing kiss on her nephew’s
forehead, then found a place on the blanket where she stretched out her legs and kicked
off her sandals. “Warm weather for April,” she commented, sighing.

“It is,” Vanya agreed. “We were lucky to be gifted with such a beautiful day to spend
outside.”

“Indeed,” Ciopori said. “It’s rare this early in spring.”

Finding her own place on the blanket beside Ciopori, Vanya threw back her head and
stared at the glorious blue sky, soaking up the luxurious rays of the Colorado sunshine.
“Ahh,” she exhaled, “heavenly.” Without realizing she was doing it, she scanned her
surroundings, surveying the landscape to the left and then the right, peering beyond
a thick, nearby grove of fir trees, casting an eye over the peaks of neighboring hilltops,
and checking beside each adjacent boulder, before settling into a more comfortable
position.

Ciopori was perceptive as always. “What are you looking for, sister?”

“Hmm?” Vanya asked.

“You check your surroundings so diligently. Are you still afraid you might run into…a
certain male vampire?”

Vanya frowned. She tucked an errant lock of hair, one that had somehow come loose
from her thick, uniform braid, behind her ear and shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know.” She
groaned. “I swear, sometimes I feel like he’s watching me, like he’s lurking beyond
every bush and tree, just waiting to pounce. I don’t know. I must be paranoid.”

“So, you have heard nothing at all from him then?”

“Nothing,” Vanya said insistently. “He has honored my request so far…faithfully.”

“That’s good,” Ciopori said. When Vanya didn’t respond immediately, her voice rose
in question. “That
is
good, right, sister?”

Vanya gave Ciopori a sideways glance. “Of course.
Of course
. I’m just a little surprised, that’s all.”

Just then, Nikolai reached beyond the outer edge of the blanket, scooped up a large
pine cone along with a fistful of dirt, and was just about to stuff it in his mouth
when Ciopori snatched it away and tossed it aside. “No, Niko. We do not eat pine cones.
Or dirt.” She brushed off his hands and handed him an intricate, brightly colored
block-puzzle instead, and the child immediately set about the task of putting the
pieces together. “Well, I for one am relieved. Like you, I didn’t expect him to honor
your request, but I must say that I’m grateful he has.” She leaned forward and tapped
on the broad trunk of the nearest tree. “Knock on wood.”

Vanya nodded. “Yes, knock on wood.” She saw a large black ant crawling on the blanket,
making its way swiftly toward Nikolai, and she gently flicked it away. “You know…”
She spoke in a whisper, not at all certain why she felt the need to lower her voice.
“I hear he’s living in a cave…like an animal.”

Ciopori frowned. “You
hear
? From whom?”

Vanya shrugged. “Nachari may have mentioned something, once or twice, maybe Ramsey.”

Ciopori shook her head in dismay, her long raven hair swaying from the motion. “Honestly,
I wish they would just keep these things to themselves. You don’t need to hear about…that
vampire.” She breathed a heavy sigh. “You know what I’ll do? I’ll speak to Marquis
about it. I’m sure, after a word from him, they will stop telling you—”

“No,” Vanya interrupted in a rush. “That’s not necessary.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s truly not necessary, sister. I mean, they don’t bring me information that often,
and in reality it’s…well, they only tell me when I ask.”

Ciopori looked away. “Oh…”

Vanya raised her eyebrows. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“What?”

“Oh.”

Ciopori frowned defensively. “I don’t know, just
oh
. Oh, I didn’t realize you still inquired about him, that’s all.”

Vanya spun around to face her sister. “Well, of course I inquire!” Catching the rising
ire in her voice, she sought to soften her tone. “I mean, not about Saber, but about…his
whereabouts and such. I…I don’t want to be caught off guard by him again. That’s all.
It certainly isn’t as if I care. About him.” She huffed with annoyance. “Most certainly
not.”

Ciopori sat forward, cocked her head to the side, and stared at her younger sister
like she had pie on her face.

“What are you looking at?” Vanya asked.

Ciopori’s nose twitched almost imperceptibly. “I’m not sure. You tell me.”

Vanya rolled her eyes playfully, or at least she hoped it appeared playful. “Tell
you what, sister?”

“Tell me what you’re thinking,
really thinking
, about Saber.”

“I’m not
really thinking
anything.” She glanced at the stroller and listened for any sign that Lucien was
growing fitful. Satisfied that he was still resting peacefully, perhaps staring at
his mobile, perhaps even falling asleep, she said, “Perchance I’m just thinking that
it’s going to be quite a challenge to raise this little one properly on my own; you
know, without a male influence. Or a father.”

Ciopori scrunched up her regal face. “You have Marquis, Nathaniel, Nachari,
and
Kagen. Heck, you have Napolean if you want his assistance…plus Ramsey, Santos, Saxson,
and Julien…not to mention Rafael, his—”

“Dear lords,” Vanya interrupted. “Please tell me you do not intend to name every male
in the house of Jadon.”

“I will if I must,” Ciopori countered.

Vanya rolled her eyes blatantly then. “I know, sister. I do. I just meant that the
whole situation is so…unusual. Unprecedented.”

“Agreed.” Ciopori patted Vanya’s hand to reassure her. “But you will get through it.
You will.”

Vanya nodded. “Of course, I will.” She looked off into the distance. “It’s just surprising
that Saber hasn’t…tried at all…don’t you think?”

Ciopori sat upright then. “Are you hoping that he will?”

“No!” Vanya waved her hand in emphasis. “
No
. I meant what I said, and that was my final word. Besides, who would want a fire-breathing
dragon for a mate? Saber? Alexiares? The king of mean?” She shuddered. “He’s terrifying.
Awful
, really. Dear goddess of light, what that monster put me through…”

“Precisely,” Ciopori echoed.

“Yet…”

“Yet?”

“
Yet
things are not always so neatly black and white…in the universe, I mean.”

Ciopori held her tongue, but the expression on her face said it all:
What are you talking about?
And w
hat part of this is gray?

Vanya searched for the right words. “I’m just pointing out that there are, there
were
,
oddities, that’s all.”

“What sort of oddities?” Ciopori said, giving Vanya her full, undivided attention.

Vanya stared at the complex patterns in the quilt and absently traced the lines of
one particularly beautiful design with her forefinger. “Well, it was more than just
a little odd, the way he had such a complete meltdown that morning in Kagen’s clinic,
during the conversion.” Her voice became thoughtful. “Quite odd, indeed.”

Ciopori shook her head, not exactly in dismissal, but not in agreement either. “You
mean the morning following that horrific,
agonizing
night of your conversion? A conversion he was forced to attempt, I might add, only
because he had previously gotten you pregnant against your will?” Despite her best
attempt at diplomacy, she fumed. “Do you mean the morning he almost killed you, broke
several of your ribs, and caused everyone who loves you to suffer unspeakably, believing
you were as good as dead? Is that the oddity you speak of?”

Vanya bristled. “Well, technically, Saber didn’t actually break my ribs. The babies—”

“Panicked in reaction to their own pain and suffering! Tried to escape an unholy
infusion of venom they were never prepared to withstand to begin with, and nearly
clawed their way out of your body in a desperate attempt to escape. And yes, Saber
was the cause of it all.”

“Of course he was,” Vanya said in frustration. “I just meant that it was strange,
odd, the way he fell apart, the way he called on Serpens, as opposed to the deity’s
dark twin, to save us. The way he offered to trade his life for ours…without hesitation.”
She sat up straight then. “For a male who has never given a second thought to anyone’s
well-being other than his own, it was quite an unexpected leap…don’t you think?”

“You were carrying his son,” Ciopori offered.

“Of course,” Vanya bit back. “And I was, what? Nothing more than a receptacle to house
his offspring?”

Ciopori bit her bottom lip. “You said it—I didn’t.”

Vanya sighed. She needed to find a way to steer the conversation back to something
light before it became any more contentious. “By the way,”—she smiled halfheartedly,
trying to force some humor into her voice—“did I ever mention that Napolean’s fangs
are positively brutal?” She rolled her eyes for effect. “Honestly, for a male who
was trying to protect me, euthanize me, if one must be frank and speak the word, in
a dire moment of desperation…
G
reat
Cygnus
, I would rather take the broken ribs and agony, thank you.”

“Do not try to make light of this, Vanya,” Ciopori said, incredulous. “I’m sorry,
but there isn’t a humorous thing about it.”

“Fine,” Vanya replied. What else could she say?

Ciopori shook her head and tried to gather her own wits about her. “It is true: Saber’s
reaction, calling on Serpens the way that he did, was so…” She paused, as if searching
for the right word.

“Raw? Vulnerable? Astonishing?” Vanya supplied. “Especially for a Dark One.”

Ciopori nodded. “I believe he had a rare, unadulterated moment. And thank the gods
he did. But it certainly doesn’t make him a saint or erase all of the unforgivable,
destructive moments that came before.”

Vanya threw her hands up in exasperation then. “Why are you being so preachy and condescending,
sister?” She squared her jaw and narrowed her eyes. “Do you think I’m truly unaware
of this? That I, of all people, cannot enumerate Saber’s infinite faults and shortcomings
in brutal detail? For heaven’s sake, I’m not defending the male. I’m simply saying
that life is not that simple:
S
ouls
are not that simple. You asked me what I meant, and I was trying to answer you.”

Nikolai squirmed in distress, and his unique amber eyes, with their deep centers of
blue, began to cloud with tears. “Shh, vampire,” Ciopori whispered, gently rubbing
his back. “It’s okay.” She lowered her voice then. “Perhaps I’m overreacting because
I think there might be something else going on here.”

Vanya reached for Nikolai’s favorite stuffed tiger and wiggled it up and down in front
of him until he finally reached out to take it. “Like what?”

Ciopori looked positively afflicted. “Like … perhaps …
feelings
.”

Vanya shook her head adamantly. “Rest assured, Ciopori, I feel nothing for the spawn
of the underworld. While I may have seen sides of him you have not—the loyalty he
felt for his family, the skills he has honed as a soldier and a vampire, even the
sharp intelligence that is overshadowed by all that duplicity and rage—I also know
him to be reckless, bitter,
broken
, and utterly unreachable. Believe me, I know who
and wha
t
he is.”

Ciopori sat back, seemingly satisfied, and Vanya let the subject rest.

For a moment.

“You must admit, however, he is sexier than Adonis when he wants to be,” she whispered
distractedly. She had no idea where the words had come from, or why they kept coming.
“His eyes…his mouth…all that wild hair. Even his attitude has an air of carnal mystery
about it.”

Ciopori looked positively stricken. “Carnal mystery?”

“Yes, sister,
carnal mystery
.”

“I guess,” Ciopori said, clearly aghast. “I suppose if a female looked hard enough,
she might find him appealing in some global terrorist, serial-killer kind of way—sexy
until the pick-axe comes out.”

Vanya grew intensely quiet then. She nodded in agreement, forced an insincere smile,
and looked back up at the sky. When her eyes drifted shut, her smile gave way to a
frown, and her lips began to quiver, ever so slightly. Ciopori froze.

“
Oh, gods…
” Ciopori whispered. She shifted onto her knees, shuffled over to Vanya, and wrapped
her elegant arms around her shoulders. “Oh Vanya,” she crooned. “Forgive me.”

“For what?” Vanya said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Ciopori strengthened her embrace. “For being so stupid. So single-minded.” She bowed
her head and rested her chin in a soft patch of Vanya’s hair. “You are his
destiny
, aren’t you? Chosen by the gods. Of course there are feelings.”

Vanya swallowed a lump in her throat, but she didn’t reply.

“How long have you been hiding this?”

Vanya didn’t answer.

“Are you hurting…deeply?”

Vanya blinked rapidly, holding back a reservoir of approaching tears. “Not so badly,”
she murmured.

“And you’ve had no one to talk to—because we all despise him so intensely?”

Vanya tried to shrug it off. “That’s okay.”

“No,” Ciopori argued. “It isn’t. It truly isn’t. I feel like a complete…
ass
.”