Blood Redemption (Blood Destiny #9)

  BLOOD REDEMPTION

  A Novel by

  Connie Suttle

  For Walter and Joe, for the usual reasons.

  And for Lissa's fans everywhere. Your support means more to me than I can ever say.

  Blood Redemption, copyright © Connie Suttle 2012

  All rights reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents portrayed within its digital pages are purely fictitious and a product of the author's often warped imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  This book, whole or in part, MAY NOT be copied or reproduced by electronic or mechanical means (including photocopying or the implementation of any type of storage or retrieval system) without the express written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  Other books by Connie Suttle

  (Blood Destiny Series)

  Blood Wager

  Blood Passage

  Blood Sense

  Blood Domination

  Blood Royal

  Blood Queen

  Blood Rebellion

  Blood War

  Blood Redemption

  *Blood Reunion

  (Legend of the Ir'Indicti Series)

  Bumble

  Shadowed

  Target

  *Vendetta

  *Destroyer

  (High Demon Series)

  *Demon Lost

  *Forthcoming

  Chapter 1

  "Where are you going?" Rabis blinked at the one who stood before him.

  "I have to go fishing," the taller one replied. "Somebody has to reel her in." He disappeared in a brief flash of light.

  * * *

  There is a difference between Looking for information and Looking into the future. Connegar and I had a talk, once, about Looking into the future. "It is never wise to Look too far into the future," he'd cautioned. "And it is particularly unwise to Look into one's own future, or that of those closest to us, lest we see what will come and precipitate its arrival when we seek to avoid it."

  True words. Griffin had succumbed to that siren's call, who knows how many times. "Your father lacks faith," Belen said to me, shortly after I'd come back to myself on Kifirin and found my way back to Earth. Three hundred years had passed since Griffin had taken me away, and I'd found myself on a planet I barely recognized. I hadn't really considered Belen's words—not until now. Belen was right, though; Griffin could only feel assured of an outcome if he pulled the strings himself. He couldn't conceive that things might turn out right at the end if he wasn't involved in some way. And the fact that Belen had blinded Griffin to Wyatt's future meant one thing to me—that something in Wyatt's future might convince Griffin to interfere again.

  Looking is a strange talent to begin with. You can't use it to see everything all at once; you must cast it toward a specific person, event or bit of information. Trying to get everything at once is like using a nuclear bomb to hammer a nail. It's too much, and you can fry your brain that way. Even then, Looking into the future of an event or person is tricky business; you must sort through all possible paths the chosen event or individual might take. Kiarra calls those paths Possibilities and Absolutes. Absolutes are a given—something that is locked in and will not change. Those, however, become fewer the farther into the future you Look. Otherwise, you deal with Possibilities, simply because of all the people and circumstances involved. All of those things might hold sway on something or someone, sending everything in another (and often unexpected) direction.

  Griffin is likely the most adept of the Saa Thalarr at Looking, considering the gift of foresight he had from his Elemaiyan mother. Obviously, he is not infallible. Larentii, who also hold the talent, generally find an outcome interesting but they have no desire to interfere. They will observe until the end of time, perhaps mark an event in their minds or record it for their archives, but they will not interfere. I think perhaps something in their past might have brought that lesson home.

  Personally, I find Looking to be a frightening concept. Why Look to see if something terrible is coming when you are sworn not to interfere? You either drive yourself insane with worry or begin to think of ways to skirt the interference rules. When I am humanoid, my emotions play a part in that. When I am corporeal, I am allowed to protect myself and those around me—with the skills I have. Unless one of The Mighty comes and directs my actions, that is. So far, I'd only met one of them, and the power he holds is frightening. The Mighty Hand prefers to direct those beneath him, rather than expend a great deal of power himself. I hope I learn the reason for that, someday.

  I am thankful too, that Connegar taught me how to form shields early in our relationship. I can do that while I am corporeal, by pulling a portion of the power I hold to create protection—not just for me but for those around me. The rules of noninterference bind me when I am energy, and I stand to lose everything I have gained if I go too far and affect the timeline. When I am corporeal, I will use everything at my disposal to protect myself and those I care for. Shields are now just another weapon in my arsenal.

  I considered remaining energy, too, after the debacle at Conclave. How much easier would it be if I allowed my body to die? Why become corporeal again, choosing to slip into a solid body filled to the brim with emotions and pain? When I began thinking those thoughts, that's when The Mighty Hand showed up. Again.

  * * *

  Franklin's soft snore welcomed me back to my body. Yeah, what a thing to come back to, I know. It had taken some nudging from The Mighty Hand (and then yelling, followed by astonishingly creative cursing) but I'd been convinced to come back. Franklin snored again. It wasn't a loud snore, even by vampire standards. When my eyes unglued enough so I could open them, I found myself staring at the ceiling. Not a familiar ceiling, either. I couldn't recall being in this particular room, before. The other thing I noticed was the IV line in my hand and a bag of blood hooked up to feed me. Frank (still snoring softly) was sleeping on a chair in a corner.

  "Frank, honey, why don't you go to bed?" I tried to keep my voice soft, but it sounded like sandpaper used one time too many on a particularly rough piece of wood. Three weeks—that's how long my spirit had been separated from my body. I knew that in just a few more days, if I hadn't come back, Kifirin had plans to pull the plug on corporeal Lissa. That would leave only spirit Lissa. As much as I might think that would be an improvement at times, I still had some things to do before I left this body behind.

  The Mighty Hand reminded me of that when he'd found me flying through the universes. I ignored him at first. That's when he started yelling. After telling him to keep his pants on (that was a joke, we were both energy) he managed to convince me that I was being selfish.

  Frank jerked awake at the sound of my voice, and he was at my elbow in a blink.

  "Honey, you need to slow down; it's not an emergency," I told him. My voice was slightly better, that time.

  Frank has Merrill's piercing blue eyes and jet-black hair, now, just like his fraternal twin, Jeff. They're both healers for the Saa Thalarr, although Franklin has an Engineering degree this time around. His bright-blue eyes were staring at me in surprise as he ran his hands over me, checking for anything that might still be wrong.

  "Sometimes I miss how the old Franklin looked," I tried to pat his hand with mine, but it held the IV and the transfusion lines, so Frank just smiled and put my hand back on the bed.

  "I know," he told me. "But I have Dad's genes this time, not someone else's," he said. "How are you feeling?"

  "Hungry. Does anybody have potato chips?" My request made him laugh. It was night, I knew that much without Looking—I don't
think you'll ever catch a vampire not knowing whether it's day or night. "Where am I?" That question was the one I really wanted answered.

  "Gryphon Hall, little sister," Frank brushed hair away from my forehead. "Adam's ancestral manor. You don't recognize it because you've never seen any of the guest rooms." He ducked his head and a sigh escaped his lips. "We were just about to lose hope."

  "I thought about not coming back," I told him truthfully.

  "Lissa, don't make my heart stop," Franklin said, frowning at me. "I still have flashbacks of seeing your blackened body floating in a bathtub. I know how I felt then and I didn't like it. Life hasn't treated you well at all, little girl, but something has been squeezing my heart for three weeks now, and it's finally beating at a normal rhythm because you're awake and talking."

  "I have a question for you," I reached for his hand and captured it, this time. I squeezed his fingers lightly, too.

  "What's that?" he smiled again.

  "Why wouldn't you and Greg let Merrill turn you? You know—before?"

  "Ah. That." Franklin sighed and looked at the wall for a moment.

  "It was Griffin, wasn't it?" I already knew the answer; I just wanted him to say it.

  "Yeah, it was Griffin. I knew he saw things," Frank turned his gaze back to me. "I asked him once what he thought I should do. It took a few minutes to get a reply because his eyes lost focus, just as they do when he's Looking into the future or something. 'You can allow the turn,' he studied me with those hazel eyes of his, 'and you'll be a vampire. It won't be too bad, but you have a choice to make, Franklin. You can take the easy way and be a vampire and lead an okay life. Or, you can take the hard path, live out this life and die as you normally would—you and Greg both, and wait for the better life to come. It's your choice, young one. But if you could see what I see at the end of the second path, that is the way you'd go, I think.' He was right, as it turns out."

  "It was a hard path, though, wasn't it?" I watched his face. He looked so much like Merrill it was frightening. I didn't see much of Kiarra there at all.

  "It was the hardest path, and I almost caved in when Greg died," Franklin muttered, ducking his head again.

  "I wish I'd been there," I sighed. "When can I get these tubes out of me?"

  "When Karzac says," I saw a shadow of a smile come back to Franklin's face.

  "Well, me and my IV stand may take a little trip to the kitchen, then," I grumped.

  "Lissa, that may not be a good idea," Frank attempted to talk me out of my kitchen-raiding plans.

  "Uh-huh," I nodded. "Want me to mist you in there with me?"

  "You want me to get in trouble with Karzac, don't you?"

  "Well, he'll know you didn't have anything to do with it." I was trying to sit up in bed so I would be partly vertical before taking off.

  "Lissa, your body has been practically inert for three weeks—you'll need to build up your strength again," Franklin cautioned. "We've been exercising your arms and legs and turning you during your out-of-body experience, but that's not the same thing."

  "You sure know how to take the fun out of everything," I grumped. He was right, though—my arms and elbows were shaking, just from trying to sit up. "Damn," I muttered. "And I wanted something to eat and drink."

  "I'll see if I can find something for you," Franklin said, trying to get me back down in the bed.

  "Why did they put me here? In Gryphon Hall? Isn't there enough room in my overly large palace, somewhere?"

  "Well, we need to tell you about that some other time." Franklin was putting me off, I could tell.

  "They haven't turned my palace into a casino, have they?" I was just about to come off the bed anyway.

  "Lissa, I think Kifirin would murder everybody if that happened," Franklin replied, fluffing my pillow. "Now, will you sit still while I round up something for you to eat, or do I have to wake someone to watch you while I go to the kitchen?"

  "I'll sit still." I wasn't happy, but I didn't want everybody in the house forced out of bed because I wanted a sandwich and a glass of juice.

  Frank even had something to eat with me, then threatened to put me in a healing sleep afterward when I told him I wanted to brush my teeth. "Do it with power," he grumped, his arms crossed over his chest. I cleaned my teeth with a bit of power, and he made sure I hadn't dislodged any of my tubes. Yeah, I hate those things in my hand and arm. Franklin stubbornly sat on his chair, although I tried to get him to go to bed. I even offered to scoot over so he could have the side of my bed. He refused and out-stubborned me to sleep.

  * * *

  "Liiisssa."

  "Huh?" My eyes were refusing to open, like always. My mouth always works first. I'm sure most people I know would prefer things to be just the opposite.

  "Thank goodness. We were worried Frank had imagined this." Drake held me against his chest, and Drew was impatiently waiting for his brother to scoot out of the way when my eyes cooperated eventually.

  "Hi, honey," I lifted a hand and stroked Drake's cheek.

  "Karzac's on his way," Drew hissed, so Drake handed me over. The stupid tubes were still attached, and I sure hoped Karzac would take the damn things out. Drew leaned down and kissed me while I got babied in his arms. Yeah, I like my Falchani. They put me back in bed just before Karzac walked into the room.

  "Lissa is awake and do you send mindspeech?" Karzac could find something to grumble about in any situation, I think.

  "Honey, I think I'll buy you a planet," I said.

  "Lissa, do we need a psychiatric evaluation?" Karzac had an eyebrow lifted as he came to stand at my bedside.

  "Now see, you just proved to me that you can find the flaw in any situation," I pointed a finger at him. Drake and Drew were doing their best not to snicker. "And it's nice to see you, too," I added. "Can I get in the hot tub now?"

  "Lissa, please do not force me to slap my forehead. I have watched over your unconscious body for weeks now, and the first things out of your mouth are buying a planet and soaking in a hot tub?" Karzac was shaking his head in disbelief.

  "I feel cold," I grumped.

  "Then say that, instead of asking to get in the hot tub."

  "Damn, no hot tub," I muttered. "Can I get a kiss, at least?" That I got, several times over, with a little mindspeech, too, telling me not to worry him like that again. I also got a big, thick quilt over my bed and the tubes pulled out.

  "You may get up with assistance for dinner, if you feel well enough. Lunch will be brought in—I'm sure your other mates will come calling." Karzac was sending the IV stand somewhere and getting rid of the used blood bag with a thought. I never asked him what he did with that stuff.

  "You could get in bed with me," I mumbled softly.

  "Do not tempt me, Lissa," Karzac was very close to shaking a finger, I think. Instead, he sat on the edge of my bed, took my face in his hands and bumped his forehead against mine. "Promise you will not leave me," he whispered. "Promise me."

  "If I go, I'll take you with me," I whispered back.

  "As long as we talk it over, first," he replied and kissed me again before walking out of the room.

  Of course, that left both sides of my bed open, so I was warmed nicely by two well-muscled Falchani. I slept like a lazy lizard in the sun between them.

  * * *

  "Dad, I don't like this, and I have no idea what it will do to Lissa." Shadow raked a hand through dark hair as he stared angrily at his father, Raffian Grey, and his grandfather, Glendes, Eldest of Grey House.

  "There is nothing to prevent you from having another mate, and Melida of Belancour will give you children," Glendes pointed out. "I have already had a rather lengthy discussion with my daughters—Kyler and Cleo worry about Lissa, too, but she's a vampire, Shadow. She can't help you pass on your talent to future generations of Greys. That's why this is so important."

  "Grampa, I don't want any part of this," Shadow huffed.

  "This is a viable offer, Shadow, and one I don't want lose,"
Glendes snapped. "Marid says that other clans are interested, if we don't move in the next few days. Melida's spouse was killed in a raid on Cloudsong—he'd been hired by the King to act as bodyguard and was caught in the ambush that killed the crown prince. Melida lost their child over the stress of that, and now her father is looking to place her with a family who might care for her."

  "You act as if I ought to just jump right in bed with her," Shadow cursed expertly after his statement. "Just dump Lissa for somebody who can get pregnant."

  "We're not telling you to dump Lissa," Raffian swore briefly to illustrate his point. "Son, you and I both know that Lissa almost left you behind. That she almost left all her mates behind. You can't say she won't do the same thing in the future, either. You need another wife—one who can have children. You have a strong gift and it should be passed to another generation."

  "Well, Dad, nobody is guaranteed a continued existence. Besides, what would you do if Mom couldn't have babies? Kick her out of bed in favor of somebody who could?" Shadow didn't want anyone to interfere in his relationships, and it was troubling enough that Lissa had nearly walked away from him and the others.

  "Son, that's not what I'm suggesting," Raffian sighed. "We both signed the contract with Grey House to provide heirs. If Shannon couldn't conceive, well," Raffian didn't finish.

  Shadow growled in frustration. He'd signed the contract, just as his father pointed out. He was regretting it, now. "What will Melida expect?" he snapped. "I don't love her. I haven't even met her, for the sky's sake. Will she think she's just a brood mare? That's what it sounds like to me."