Blood Royal (Blood Destiny #5) 7

"Come to the guesthouse, we'll have wine and talk," Amara invited Merrill and me. Griffin must have moved us; we were in Griffin's guesthouse sitting room in a blink. Roff came in and sat on the sofa beside me, putting an arm around my shoulders.

"Raona, how much do you think I should pack?" he asked.

"Pack for two weeks at least; I hope we can do laundry sometime," I said. He pulled my face around and gave me a light kiss. Griffin passed out glasses of wine and Roff accepted his with a dip of his head.

"This is quite good," he said after tasting it expertly.

"How long have you been making wine?" Amara asked him.

"More than three hundred years," he said. "I am three hundred thirteen and my father began teaching me when I was ten. I was crushing berries and grapes before that, even."

"So winemaking is your family trade?" I leaned against his shoulder; he was very happy with me there.

"Yes. My family has been making wine for generations. My father always insisted that our ancestors were making it for the Queen before Le-Ath Veronis fell."

"You were on the High Demon world?" Amara asked. "How did you like that?"

Roff cleared his throat. Kifirin showed up as if he'd been called. Nexus Echo. Again.

"He will not say because I brought him from the future," Kifirin smiled, showing his beautiful, white teeth. If he were human, I'd have guessed him to be from India or ancient Persia—his skin was darker and quite beautiful. His smile widened at my thoughts and his dark eyes laughed at me. I swear, there's nothing on him that isn't gorgeous and when he smiles, he can create widespread swooning.

"My life for the past forty years has been good," Roff declared, breaking Kifirin's spell.

"Yes, it has," Kifirin acknowledged. "Before that, things were not so good. They call the comesuli common demons on my planet," Kifirin explained. "Many of the High Demons became corrupt and they mistreated the comesuli, though the comesuli tended the crops and herds and made sure the High Demons did not starve."

"They became lovers of themselves," Roff huffed.

"Roff, don't ever think you're a common anything," I said, leaning forward and giving him a smile. He smiled widely back and gave me another kiss before settling me on his shoulder again.

"Roff and his family are most certainly not common," Kifirin said. "They are one of two families that are winged Infilathi. They were always selected to become vampire because they developed wings with the turn. The winged ones were honorable and much admired."

"You have wings?" I sat up and stared at Roff in amazement.

"If I am turned," he nodded solemnly. "My ancestors were all winged vampires and much respected." I was duly impressed. I wanted to see a winged vampire, I think.

"When the High Demons called the comesuli common demons," Kifirin said, "it was an attempt to make the comesuli a part of themselves, when nothing could be farther from the truth. Comesuli are and always have been the young of the vampire race. Unfortunately, it is necessary for a mature vampire to turn them at the proper time in order for them to gain their true majority."

"Tonight has certainly been educational," I said. Roff pulled me back to his shoulder. I was comfortable there. So was he.

Sixty-nine-year-old Everett Hancock hit the mute button on his television remote; someone was ringing the doorbell of his small, two-bedroom home in Youngstown, Ohio. He wondered if it were his neighbor again, dropping by to ask more questions about his son Anthony and about Tony's death in France. He'd already talked to Corinne, Tony's mother, shortly after the bombing; the government had declared his son dead. Killed in the line of duty, the vice president said when he called.

Everett had been in the military in his younger days; was retired Army, actually. He'd seen Viet Nam and a few other places. Tony had gone with his mother when they'd divorced; Everett couldn't handle her disappearing one night a month and going off to run with who knew what. Everett had been home on leave when Tony was conceived—Corinne had written to let him know a few months after he'd gone back to Germany where he was stationed. Tony was born while he was away, too, and was four months old when Everett came home.

He and Corinne had done nothing but fight after he gotten home; she'd accused him of ignoring her to stay an extra three months in Germany, and he'd shouted about her stupid werewolf habits. Corinne packed her bags after the last blow-up, taking herself and Tony right out the door. Ran right off and married one of those damned wolves. Everett snorted at the memory as he opened the door.

"What the hell do you want?" Everett didn’t recognize the two men who stood there. They were dressed in nice suits and ties, though. Probably from the church, wanting him to accept salvation or something.

"I am Christopher Townsend," one of the visitors said. "You will come with us." Everett opened his storm door and followed Mr. Townsend right out to a waiting car. The other man who'd been standing next to Christopher Townsend slipped inside the house, grabbed Everett's keys and locked the door behind him as he left. He followed his partner out to the car, where Everett was already sitting in the back seat. Special Agent White was dialing his cell phone as Special Agent Townsend put the car in gear and drove away. The phone rang on the other end and was answered.

"We have him," Special Agent Kenneth White said and hung up.

Everett looked around curiously, as he was led into a basement—Mr. Townsend and Mr. White had driven him to Pittsburgh and stopped at a house there. Everett still didn't understand why he'd willingly come with them and hadn't attempted to object. It just seemed that whenever Mr. Townsend told Everett to do something, Everett thought it was a good idea.

"Are you hungry, Mr. Hancock?" Mr. White asked. Everett looked at the other man. He and Mr. Townsend looked young to him—younger than his son, who'd been thirty-six when he'd died.

"I could eat," Everett nodded.

"What would you like?"

"Oh, a piece of chicken, maybe a sandwich." Everett didn't care. The doctor was always on him to lower his cholesterol. Nowadays Everett ignored that warning and ate what he wanted. Nobody was going to live forever, after all.

"A chicken sandwich, maybe?" Mr. Townsend asked.

"Yeah. With fries." Mr. White went back upstairs.

"You will stay here, Mr. Hancock," Mr. Townsend showed Everett a bedroom. "There is a bathroom there, too, if you need to go." Chris Townsend showed Everett where the bath and shower were inside his bedroom. "You will not attempt to leave and you will do what Mr. White and I tell you." Everett nodded.

"Albert, they have him at the safe house in Pittsburgh," Charles spoke quietly into his cell. "Wlodek wants you to check to see if he has mindspeech."

"I can be there tomorrow; I'm in New York now," Albert replied.

"Let us know as soon as you can so we can make a decision," Charles said.

"Of course," Albert agreed and hung up.

"Take one or two nice outfits; the rest can be clothes you wouldn't mind working in. Just everyday stuff," I sat on Roff's bed as he folded clothing and placed it in his borrowed suitcase. Franklin and Greg had bought jeans, shirts, shoes and other necessary items for Roff and Giff. Both were quite happy with their new wardrobe.

"Where will we be staying?" Roff asked, folding a pullover shirt.

"I don’t know yet. Maybe hotels or safe houses," I said. "Do you have pajamas or something to sleep in?"

"I have pajamas, but prefer to only wear the lower half," he informed me.

"That's not unusual," I told him. I helped him pack shampoo and the soap he liked.

"It was not this complicated to make the pilgrimage to Baetrah," Roff muttered, zipping his suitcase.

"What is Baetrah?" I asked.

"Baetrah is the volcano on Kifirin's planet. The comesuli go there and ask Kifirin to take us back to Le-Ath Veronis."

"You can ask him in person," I smiled at Roff.

"You think we have not done this? He was not always available, you know. Only recently did he come to me and my family, offering us a place with you, along with the promise that if we worked hard, Le-Ath Veronis would again be inhabited by vampires and comesuli."

"So the volcano is the place to go if you want to ask Kifirin for something?" That made me chuckle. Honestly, I wondered about the volcanic scent I smelled around him at times.

"The Dragon's Teeth are nearby, too. That is the way for the High Demons to ask Kifirin for something. They should have asked long ago for him to wake and control the copper Ra'Ak. They did not."

"So, how did he wake, then?"

"Someone finally remembered how to wake Kifirin when it was nearly too late. The Dragon's teeth require blood. The blood given was almost too dear."

"That seems a little drastic," I said.

"It was," Roff nodded.

"It sounds like you've had a tough time," I gave him a quick hug.

"I would endure it all again if it would mean I could come to you," he sighed.

"Roff, you need to stop, you're going to make me think I'm more important than I am," I said. "And we don't need that." I patted his shoulder and walked toward the door. "Do you need help carrying anything downstairs?"

"No, Raona. I can get this easily."

"Merrill wants us downstairs in fifteen minutes. I'm going to grab my things. I'll meet you there." I trotted down the hallway. I'd left Gavin in his bedroom, packing his bags. At least he could do that for himself.

Gavin hadn't just packed his things; he'd carried all our bags down to the garage. He and René were making Tony load up the back of the Range Rover. Poor Tony—he was the rookie, looked like. Tony didn't seem to give a damn; he was having fun flinging heavy bags around as if they were throw pillows.

Griffin and Amara came to see me off; Griffin told me they might drop in on us now and then, just to say hello. I nodded. Amara hugged me. Griffin got a hug and a kiss before letting me go. Franklin and Greg got big hugs too. I was worried about Greg but afraid to say anything—his blood scent was far from normal. Roff appeared, carrying his bags easily; he truly was stronger than he looked. He and Tony got the last bags loaded in and we were ready to go.

The Council's jet was flying us to Dallas, and we were packed to the roof inside the Range Rover. Gavin held me on his lap, which was against the law since I wasn't wearing a seat belt. Roff was scrunched between Tony and René in the back seat. Merrill drove us to the airport and we were loaded on the jet in very little time. I recalled that I hadn't flown with Gavin since our trip back from Florida. This time I sat next to him, while Roff sat across the aisle. This was old habit for Tony; I figured his hands were itching to send emails or something as he and René found seats. Roff was excited; he'd never done anything like this before.

We were in the air for nine hours, stopping once to refuel and landing in Dallas around midnight local time due to the time difference. Winkler, Rhett and Dalroy were waiting there to meet us. Winkler provided two of his company-owned SUVs, so we were loaded up and hauled off to Winkler's home outside Denton.

"Are you sure this is safe?" I asked as Winkler stole a hug while Gavin stood by, frowning. I didn't want to put him or his unborn children in danger by staying with him.

"It'll be all right," Winkler grinned at me. "I'm putting all of you in the guesthouse. We haven't closed on your house next door or I'd let you stay there." So many things had happened; I'd forgotten he was buying it for me.

In the meantime, I was no stranger to the guesthouse. Gavin, Roff and I got the top floor for old times' sake; René and Tony took the bottom floor. The only difference was that this time Gavin and I shared a bed; Roff slept in the second bedroom. "Do you know how many times I wanted to come in and climb in bed with you?" Gavin asked as I hefted a suitcase on the king-size bed and unpacked a few things. Winkler had renovated since we'd stayed before—the bath had new tile and granite counters, the bedroom had new carpet, drapes and blinds. He'd spared no expense, I noticed.

"Hmmph," I grumbled at Gavin's question. "You didn't stop yourself from coming in and undressing me before digging around in my shoulder for that bullet."

"Cara, the feel of your skin under my hands almost drove me wild," Gavin came to nuzzle my neck. "I had to force myself to focus on the task instead."

"Uh-huh," I said. "Don't go down that road, Gavin. You know what happened not long after that." He'd placed compulsion and hauled me off to the Council. That still pissed me off every time I thought about it.

"Cara, put that out of your mind, I beg you," Gavin said, turning me in his arms. "This is our first time traveling when we are truly together. I do not wish to ruin this."

"You know what I remember?" I said. "I remember dancing with you at the wedding reception that we crashed. You had your eyes closed on the last dance, Gavin. I always wondered what it was you were thinking about right then."

"You wish to know this?" He blinked at me before lowering his head to steal a kiss. I shrugged when he pulled away. "For just a moment, I pretended that you were mine," he admitted. "That there was nothing standing between us and that you loved me. I wanted to take you to my home and keep you, cara. That is what I was thinking."

I let my forehead droop against his chest and he wrapped his arms around me. "I love you, cara mia. More than I have ever loved anything. You have to forgive my desire to lock you away at times; I only wish to keep you safe."

"What would you have done if the vote had gone the other way?" I leaned away from him and studied his eyes—they were a beautiful, deep brown. I stroked fingers through his thick, close-cropped brown hair before trailing a finger down his cheek. "You were set to kill me, Gavin. What would you have done afterward?" My fingers traced the line of his jaw. It was strong, that jaw, his lips fine and well-shaped. He quirked a dark brow and a corner of his mouth lifted slightly at my touch.

"Probably what I did anyway," he replied, kissing my fingers. "I drove straight to El Diablo and proceeded to get as drunk as I could. Flavio had to haul me away; I spent the day in his townhome afterward. I was terrified that you could never bring yourself to speak with me or care for me."

"Flavio," I huffed, moving away from Gavin. "He couldn't wait to tell Wlodek how I'd misbehaved in New Mexico."