Bloodline (6 page)

He took a fork and shovel and moved into the first stall to begin the usual soothing tasks of cleaning the stall and putting down fresh bedding.

He wouldn't risk his freedom for anything. Not even for Lilith. God, he wished his brother were here to tell him what the hell to do about her. She could be lying. She could be faking the amnesia. She could have been sent to kill him. It was, after all, inevitable that they would send someone sooner or later. And even if she wasn't the
one, she could have been followed, all the while being totally unaware of it.

She was a risk. A threat to his freedom. So why the hell hadn't he sent her packing?

Lowering his head, he realized why. Because it would do no good. To send her away would risk her telling others where he was. The only way to ensure that never happened would be to keep her here—or kill her.

He paused in his work, leaning on the shovel's long handle and closing his eyes. He knew damned good and well that he couldn't kill her. He'd wronged the woman. He'd been racked with guilt ever since he'd been forced to leave her behind. And he'd wanted to go back for her—but he hadn't.

Because he would have had no chance of surviving. Because he hadn't even known if she was still alive. Because he'd thought if he could only find his brother first, maybe the two of them could save her. And most of all, because he'd known she would refuse to leave that place without taking every other captive along with her. And that would have been impossible.

So he hadn't gone back for her. And he knew damn well that part of the reason he wasn't telling her the truth about how they knew one another was because it would mean admitting what he had done. That he'd saved himself and left her behind, and that had been eating his soul bit by bit ever since.

Finishing the stall-cleaning in record time—because leaving her alone in his haven made him nervous as hell—he returned the tools to their places, closed the rear door and headed out the front, then along the winding pathway back toward the house.

Through the window, he saw her, a silhouette backlit by the fire's amber glow, and the sight of her stopped him in his tracks. She was beautiful.

For years at The Farm, he'd watched her from a distance, and early on, he'd feared for her. Almost weekly, she would be punished for refusing to submit to the rules or learn the lessons or vow obedience to the DPI. More recently, she'd been in trouble for trying to stir revolt in the others. The two of them had barely even talked. But eventually she'd noticed him looking at her when they passed on the compound. The DPI kept their captive males separate from the females. They were closely guarded, their every moment scheduled for them, from lessons and training to limited recreation. They were told when it was time to take to their cots in their barracks, and told when it was time to rise and begin another day. Even their bathroom and shower usage was rigidly scheduled. There was little time to form friendships or have casual conversations.

He always saw her among a line of girls as they walked from their barracks to the classroom. He would be in a line of young men, walking the opposite way, after combat training.

When she noticed him, she looked back. And she kept looking. Day in and day out, that was their only communication. Until that last night, the night he'd left.

That night, he had crept into her barracks, hoping against hope that there would be some way to take her with him, avoiding the guard, risking everything for this one moment. And as the others slept, he'd slipped silently between the two rows of cots, straining his still-mortal eyes to see each sleeping face, until he found her.

She lay awake, eyes open, but not truly seeing. She'd been in isolation for the past week, drugged, punished for her ongoing disobedience. He couldn't imagine what had been done to her. And he didn't want to.

He thought she'd been aware of him, even in her stupor, ever since he'd climbed, awkwardly, through the open window, and he'd paused momentarily when he met her curious, unfocused eyes. Then, when she opened her mouth to speak, he quickly put a finger to his lips to silence her.

At last he moved closer and knelt beside the cot. She rolled onto her side, propped her head on her hand, too weak even to hold it up otherwise, and stared at him, a thousand emotions in her eyes. A thousand questions. And a yearning that could not be concealed, even by the drugs still coursing through her veins.

Without a word, he cupped her face between his palms, leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers. He felt them part, felt them tremble, and then felt the warmth of her breath as she released it all at once. At last her arms slid around him, and his body caught fire. He kissed her more deeply, more passionately, and she responded with an eagerness that thrilled him. On and on they kissed, until someone in another bed stirred, and the sound made them jerk apart all at once.

She was breathing hard. So was he, and nearly too aroused to force himself to stop. He'd never kissed a woman before that night. He was certain that she was every bit as innocent as him.

Leaning closer, his lips against her ear, he whispered, “I'm sorry.” And then, calling up every ounce of will-power he possessed, he rose. It was almost physically
painful to turn away from those wide, passion-glazed eyes. But he did. He walked away from her, slipped out the window and put his plan for escape into motion.

And for that, even though it had meant his very survival, he would never forgive himself.

* * *

I had opened every drawer, fanned the pages of each book on Ethan's bookshelves, explored every cabinet and closet, and still I had found no clue as to his past. Or mine.

Maybe I was imagining the familiarity. Maybe it didn't mean anything at all. Maybe…

I sensed that he was near and turned my head slightly to see him standing a few yards from the house, staring through the window at me. I couldn't help but smile a little bit at the sight of him, so great was my relief that he had actually come back. And in spite of my fear that I would seem silly and needy, I hurried to the door and flung it open.

He remained still for only a moment, as his eyes met mine, and I felt the oddest familiarity about the intense gaze we shared. Everything inside me seemed to quiver with an unnamed anticipation. My stomach clenched tight when he started walking toward me. It was only a few steps, and yet they were powerful, deliberate strides, and I shivered in delicious longing.

I only moved away when he reached the doorway, and then only enough to let him pass through. As soon as he stepped across the threshold, his arms snapped around my waist and pulled me hard against him. He lowered his head and took my mouth in a way that told me he was eager, that he was hungry for me. I felt an answering hunger burning inside me as I opened to him, threaded
my fingers through his hair and kissed him back as my body seemed to burst into flame.

I had been taught about the workings of the human body—how, when, by whom, I did not know. The knowledge, though, remained. I knew about mating and reproduction—at least as such things pertained to mortals. I had no idea what, if anything, was different among our kind. The Undead. And yet I had never, I thought, understood or expected this feeling that engulfed me in that moment in his arms. I had never, I thought, realized that there would be this fire.

Or had I? Because his kiss was…familiar.

When he finally lifted his head, I opened my eyes and then gasped, because his were glowing, as if this fire I felt was burning in him, too, and had made itself real, visible there in his eyes.

I couldn't look away. “Are my eyes glowing, too?” I asked him.

He nodded, searching my face.

A wave of tiredness washed over me then, suddenly and without warning. My knees felt weak, but I stiffened them—and my slowly relaxing spine, as well.

“You've kissed me before, Ethan,” I told him. “I know you have.”

Again he nodded.

“You have to tell me. Please, Ethan, I want to know. I want it as badly as I want—as I want…you.”

He almost smiled. But only with his lips. A brief tug at the corners of his delicious mouth, and then it was gone. His eyes, as the fiery glow faded, seemed to convey worry—a worry I didn't understand. At last he nodded. “I'll tell you. I'll tell you all of it. But there's a lot, and we're out of time.”

“Out of time?” I frowned, not understanding, but my eyes felt inexplicably heavy, and my neck seemed too weak, suddenly, to support the weight of my head.

“You feel it. I can see you do. The sun's about to rise, Lilith. We need to rest now. I wish to God we had a choice in the matter.” And even as he said it, he turned me slightly, keeping one arm around my waist, propelling me forward at his side. He paused only long enough to close and lock the door, never letting go of his hold on me, and then he guided me toward the stairs.

My head fell sideways against his powerful shoulder as we climbed, and my body slumped once more. Instantly Ethan scooped me up in his strong arms. I curled my own arms around his neck and was asleep before we reached the top of the stairway.

Present Day

G
inger Walters, head of the Appalachian Regional Branch of the Sisterhood of Athena, frowned at the telephone as it rang.

Serena looked over at her with curiosity, but nothing more than that. She'd been living with the sisters for more than twenty years now, and she knew how things worked. You knew what you needed to know, nothing more. Hell, aside from herself, Terry—who'd brought her here—Ginger and a handful of others, no one in the entire organization knew that she was the mother of one of the Chosen, one of those rare humans who had the potential to become a vampire. One of the people they watched. Ginger said they never would have let her in, if they'd known. “They” being the higher-ups in the organization. To say they were strict was an understatement. In her time there, Serena had picked up on the unspoken knowledge that once a woman joined the Sisterhood, she was never allowed to leave.

Never.

As they grew older, members were transferred to other branches, where research, record-keeping and the like became their jobs, while younger recruits replaced them in the ranks.

That no one left was extreme, perhaps. But she could see the need for such measures. And the need for secrecy, the need for all of it. She had become as loyal and as devoted to the cause as any of them.

They were just returning from the wide, fenced-in and ultraprivate lawn in back, where they gathered morning and evening for chi kung and kung fu practice. She had a towel around her neck, was wearing a sweat-damp
gi
with a black belt around her waist and was barefoot. So were the others who trooped through the house ahead of her, all of them heading to their rooms for a shower.

They'd come in through the rear door, so it was the kitchen telephone that had sidetracked the honcha, as Serena liked to call their leader. But when Ginger brought the phone to her ear and said, “This is Ginger Walters. Who is calling?” there was something off about her tone. Something that brought Serena up short.

And when she saw the look on the other woman's face, she knew something big was going on.

Ginger's eyes shot to hers. “Get Terry back here, and close the door. Hurry.”

Serena nodded and ran out of the room. The others had gone their various ways, but her shout brought Terry in a hurry. Maybe her own voice was giving things away, too. But even if it did, the others wouldn't snoop or pry or try to listen in. It just wasn't how they operated. They trusted each other—they had to. Their lives too often depended on it.

Terry joined her, and together they rushed back into the kitchen. Serena closed the door behind them, and Ginger said, “All right, Callista. Go ahead.” And then she pressed the speaker button and set the receiver down.

“Callista?” Serena whispered in disbelief, sending a quick stunned look at Terry. It had been twenty-eight months since anyone had heard a word from her. She was a sister who had begun a passionate affair with a suspected DPI operative, pretending to know nothing about his work the entire time. Eventually she'd become close enough to him to win his trust, and he had helped her get a job as a “keeper” at some mysterious place they called “The Farm.”

She'd planned to work undercover, to send back information on The Farm's location and find out whether the place had anything to do with the missing children they'd been trying for so long to find, including Serena's own missing baby girl—who would be twenty-one years old by now. But it had been as if Callista had fallen off the planet. And no amount of searching or digging had turned up any sign that she was still alive.

All of that whirled through Serena's mind like a twister, and then she was focused again on the call.

“Go ahead, Callista,” Ginger said. “Where are you?”

“I'm at The Farm.” The words were whispered. Frowning, Ginger hit the volume button. “I've been here the entire time, but what they don't tell you 'til you're here is that once you're hired, there's no contact with the outside world. You're not allowed to leave until your contract is up. And even then…”

“So how are you making this call?”

“They'll kill me if they find out. I stole a cell phone
from a guard who smuggled it in. If he reports it, they'll shoot him, though, so I might be safe. And I
had
to get in touch.”

“Why?”

“Serena's daughter—”

“She's
there?
” Serena lurched closer to the phone, as if she could grab hold of it, and her child through it.

“She was,” Callista said. “A prisoner—one of many. But she escaped. I'm fairly certain she…she changed over first.”

Serena felt her body turn to stone. She couldn't move. She couldn't feel. She was devoid of warmth. “She's…she's a…” God, she couldn't even
say
it.

“I think so, Serena. She goes by the name of Lilith. But after an earlier escape, the keepers instituted a new tagging program. The residents have all been implanted with a tracking device that can be remotely activated if they get away. All without their knowledge. They'll find her in short order, and when they do, she'll be executed. That's why I had to risk everything to call you. You have to get to her before they do.”

Serena nodded dumbly. Terry's arm came around her shoulders, as if to comfort her or soothe her tears. But there were none. She couldn't cry. She'd lost her daughter. She'd
lost
her. Lilith wasn't even human anymore.

“Callista, can you get out of there?” Ginger asked.

“I couldn't before, and now that Lilith has gotten away, security has gone through the roof. I'll look for an opportunity, but I have a feeling I'm going to have to stay another eight months, until my contract is up.”

“They let people leave after that?” Ginger asked. “They trust them to keep quiet?”

“Anyone who talks is tracked down and executed. They make very sure we all know that.”

Ginger nodded. “So tell me all you can now, then, if it's safe.”

“It's not. But I might never get another chance. I can't tell you where The Farm is. They blindfold us when they bring us in, and we never leave until our time is up. I have no idea where I am. But I do know it's about two hours from Athena House, maybe less. They could have driven me around in circles for a while to throw me off, for all I know.”

“Okay. What else do you know, Callista? What do they
do
there?”

“Program children. Brainwash them. Train them to…to kill on command. To obey without question. They're taking any kids with the antigen that they can get their hands on and raising them here. When they're grown, they transform them and take them elsewhere. They are…they're creating a vampire army, Ginger. Loyal to the point of death to the United States' government's most ultrasecret agency.”

Ginger's eyes went wide with horror, and she gazed at the other two. Serena felt her heart breaking.

“They couldn't break your daughter's spirit, Serena,” Callista went on. “You should know that. She never lost her will. She was a rebel to the core.”

A little frown bent Serena's brows.

“She's an incredible woman,” Callista continued. “Vampire or not. I…I loved her. You will, too. If you can get to her in time.” She paused, then added, “I'm sending you an e-mail from this phone with her picture. It should help.”

Ginger nodded slowly, then began to pace. “I don't suppose you have any idea where she would have gone, do you?”

“Only one clue,” Callista said. “A month after I arrived here, there was another escape. A young man called Ethan. No last name, as far as I know. I sort of…helped him. But I had no choice.”

“We know about a vampire called Ethan!” Terry said. “He has a place in Mesina. We've had him on the radar for a year now.”

“He's a legend here. So will Lilith be, before week's end. But…she used to talk about him. And there was something in her eyes and her voice when she did…I don't think I'm imagining it. And I know he had feelings for her. So maybe…”

“Good work, Callista.”

“Thank you. Thank you so, so much,” Serena said. “Please be safe.”

“I'll do my best. I want to get out of here as badly as—I've gotta go.”

And that was it. The connection was broken.

Ginger hung up the phone and turned to look at Terry and Serena. “It's time we notified the powers that be of what we've been up to. It's going to take more than just the three of us to protect Lilith and rescue Callista.”

“It's going to take more than the powers that be,” Terry said. “More than the entire sisterhood.”

Serena nodded. “If they have a vampire army, the only way we're going to fight them is if we get one of our own.”

“Absolutely not.” Ginger shook her head firmly. “We do not interact with them. We try not to so much as reveal
our
existence
to the Undead. That's policy, and it's one I agree with—one that's essential to our continued ability to operate. Do not even think about breaking it. Is that understood?”

Serena nodded and lowered her head.

“Good. Now, let's get out to that vampire's ranch shortly after nightfall and see if we can find your daughter. If nothing more, maybe we can at least warn her.”

Lifting her head, Serena felt lighter. “My God,” she whispered. “I might actually see her…tonight.”

“You can see her now,” Ginger said, and, smiling, she led the way through the kitchen and the huge formal dining room, then into the library. She closed the door and quickly moved behind the desk, where, without even sitting down, she began tapping on the keyboard. After a moment, she straightened and smiled slowly. “She looks like you.”

Her heart in her throat, Serena moved around the desk and blinked away the tears that blurred her vision. There on the monitor screen was a photo of a beautiful young woman with spiraling auburn curls and vivid green eyes.

At her shoulder, Terry whispered, “She's beautiful.”

Serena nodded but found herself too overcome with emotion to speak. All she could manage was to raise one trembling hand and press her fingertips to her daughter's cheek as tears finally spilled down her own.

* * *

Ethan woke at sundown with Lilith curled in his arms—just the way he'd gone to sleep. Maybe he shouldn't have done it, but he'd carried her into his room
that morning. He'd changed his own clothes and left hers in place—though that still consisted of only his button-down shirt, which was far too big. Then he'd crawled into the bed and curved his body to fit hers, wrapping her in his arms, and he relished both his relief that she was okay and his admiration for her strength.

As he'd drifted into sleep, he'd traveled backward in his mind to his final night in captivity.

He'd kissed her that night, which had done nothing but leave him wanting more and aching at the impossibility of what he had to do: to leave there—to leave
her…

“You
have to. Now,
Ethan.”

He nodded, hearing the soft whisper from beyond the window. Callista, one of the keepers—but one who was so different from the others that he wondered who she really was.

He stood by the barracks window, but for the life of him, he couldn't move any farther. He stood as if rooted to the spot, relishing what he was certain would be his last sight of Lilith.

“Ethan, it's for her sake, as well.”

He shook his head, but he somehow tore his eyes from her and moved away, careful not to make a sound as he slipped outside, watching and listening with everything in him.

Callista moved at his side. It had been a warm autumn night, that first night of his new life. And it had been…almost anticlimactic, the way it had all taken place.

She took him to the most remote area within the compound: a stand of brush and a handful of scrub-apple trees, between the southernmost outbuildings and
the electrified fence. She led the way, hurrying, and nervous as hell.

Finally she pointed to a blanket on the weedy ground. “Lie down.”

He frowned at her. “I thought you were going to help me escape.”

“You can only escape if you can jump the fence, and you can only jump the fence if you're a vampire. So I'm going to help you change over. Lie down.”

He went still and stiff, suddenly wary. “Is this some kind of a trick, Callista? Are you testing me, so that the minute I agree, the other keepers will jump out and punish me? Is this the challenge you said they were about to give me? The one you said I was certain to fail?”

“No, Ethan.” She knelt beside the blanket, opened a pack and began removing bags of blood and tubing from it. “The challenge they would have given you would have proven to them whether you could be trusted once you'd been transformed.”