Blood Legacy: The House Of Alexander Part 23

But she had been born to the English broadsword, which quickly became evident when she launched a brilliant attack that Aeron barely deflected, backing six steps to do so.

He smiled, pleased, hefting the weight of his sword. "So, little one, you truly are the swordsman I have heard so much about."

Ryan felt his influence cloud her mind, felt the mocking endearment pull her into a world that existed centuries before. She shook her head, clearing the images from her mind.

"I think that killing has become so impersonal," Ryan said conversationally, shifting her footwork for his imminent attack, "I have always felt a sword delivered a much more intimate message."

Aeron smiled, then again struck like lightning. It was Ryan's turn to give ground, her sword flashing to meet the slashing arc of metal. When she had relinquished as much ground as she would, she locked swords with him, bringing him to an abrupt halt within inches of her face.

The two swords hovered between them, and Aeron took the opportunity to let his gaze linger on her lips. "So are intimacy and violence always so interrelated with you?"

Ryan stared back, amused. "That is your quality, not mine."

Aeron returned the smile, his teeth flashing in the shadows. "Don't be so sure, little one. You have quite a reputation yourself."

Ryan stepped sideways and disengaged, using Aeron's power against him as he was forced to step forward to maintain his balance. He still effortlessly blocked her next arcing attack, and she again danced out of the way of his slicing counter.

The two circled one another, mentally and physically testing the other. Neither appeared fatigued in any way, and it seemed that this contest could go on indefinitely.

Aeron struck again, delivering a devastating series of blows that Ryan countered with a dazzling defense. At the end of the series, Aeron sought to engage Ryan's sword, but she slipped away, dancing a few feet beyond the reach of his sword. She grabbed a tapestry, flinging it upon his weapon, but he sliced through it without effort, slashing back at her with immense force. She again was just beyond the flashing blade, but this time she tumbled backward onto a couch as it caught her at the back of the knees.

Aeron's sword was there and Ryan parried three times before the swords locked, and they were again face-to-face, this time with Ryan in a more vulnerable position on the settee.

"So do you remember this place, little one?" Aeron whispered through clenched teeth. "I believe you were sitting right there when you gave your life's blood to me."

This comment angered Ryan. "I did not give you anything," she said, her own teeth clenched. "You may have taken it by force, but I offered you nothing."

"Hmm," Aeron said, examining her golden eyelashes and the high color tracing the line of her cheekbones. "Surely you realize by now that those subtleties are meaningless amongst our Kind."

This comment infuriated Ryan and she found the strength to push him back, striking at him once more. He easily parried, amused by her fury. It did make her noticeably stronger, he noted. An interesting phenomenon.

Ryan stood, her sword extended to him in challenge. She was up to his psychological manipulation, and could return it in kind. "You offered me your blood," she reminded him, "you could simply allow my weapon to find its mark."

The tip of her sword hovered near the veins in his throat. Aeron was amused and aroused, but undeceived. "An interesting proposal. I somehow think the bloodletting would not be what I had in mind."

He smashed her sword away, again going on the attack, and Ryan yet again danced out of his reach, seeking an opening. She shifted her footwork, preparing to launch another flurry of blows, when a strange look pa.s.sed over her features. The virus in her system stirred and a wave of dizziness overtook her.

Aeron smiled.

In an instant he lunged forward. Ryan brought her sword up with blinding speed, parrying the blow, as well as the mult.i.tude that followed it. She stepped backward with impossible grace, countering each slashing attack as she was pushed rearward.

But the outcome of the series was inevitable, and had not been in question from the very first strike. For in that momentary weakness, Aeron had gained a fraction of a second, and that was all he needed. In each subsequent paired move, the consequence of that lost instant was mirrored and magnified until culminating in the very last blow in which he drove his sword through her midsection.

Ryan stared into his ice-blue eyes which were filled with a malevolent amus.e.m.e.nt. She glanced down at the sword which was buried up to its hilt just beneath her ribs, impaling her in exactly the spot that had never healed, pinning her to the wall behind her. He had trapped the wrist of her sword hand against the wall with his free hand.

Aeron let his eyes drift downward to the blood that began to stream from the wound. He very slowly, excruciatingly, twisted the blade, inflicting even greater damage to the wounded area, increasing the blood flow.

Ryan closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she was again staring into ice blue eyes. She gathered her strength.

"That," she said evenly, "was cheating."

Aeron could no longer control himself. His desire for this one was all-consuming. He sliced into her neck with his perfect teeth, drawing her blood into his body even as it flowed downward from the wound he had inflicted.

The intensity of contact was agonizing, and Ryan's vision went white, then black. It was a torturous combination of pleasure and pain. The bond with Aeron was immediate and unbearably intense.

Aeron's heart staggered at the powerful onslaught, but even so it seemed he could not get enough of this girl, could not get close enough to her. He could take every fiery drop of her blood and he would still desire her in ways he could not fathom.

It took every ounce of his willpower to pull away. She looked at him, the deepening languor from his feeding and her injuries evident in her eyes. But even then, remarkably that spark of ever-present amus.e.m.e.nt was evident in their blue-green depths. He grasped the hilt of the sword and yanked it from her torso, causing her to fall forward onto him, grasping him for support. He lifted her into his arms, surprised at how light she was, and placed his lips on the wound from the sword.

He carried her to the sofa, the place he had seduced her so many centuries before, and was instantly upon her again. His teeth returned to the artery in her neck, taking the blood that flowed with such force. He was astonished at how powerful she had become in the few centuries that had pa.s.sed, realizing that this 'boy' had become a magnificent creature.

She no longer fought him, relaxing against her will, and he held her less harshly, although no less tightly. Her hand actually curled onto his, and in her dazed state, she clutched his hand like a child. He gazed at the hand, feeling the oddest mixture of emotions.

He wanted to maim her, he wanted to consume her, he wanted to utterly destroy her.

He also wanted to own her, to protect her, to utterly possess her. And more than anything, he wanted her to want him.

He leaned away, and with his perfect fingernails gashed his own neck. The blood began to flow down his collarbone, then down his chest, seeping into his white shirt. The girl opened her eyes as he watched her intently.

Ryan took one look at the blood and moaned in anguish, turning away. She could not do this. She could not take this man's blood, knowing that if she did a part of her would be lost forever.

Aeron's eyes gleamed. The girl did want him. As desperately as he wanted her. He took her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him.

"What's the matter, little one?" he whispered.

Ryan shook her head, trying to get him out of her mind. There was no hope for her if she allowed him into her body.

"Are you afraid of what you might find?"

Ryan felt utter hopelessness. She could not fight the desire that raged through her, did not even want to.

"I know what I will find," she said, inevitability in her tone.

She leaned upward and placed her lips on the stream of blood, following it to the open vein. Aeron shifted, helping her into position, and gasped when her lips touched his skin.

The pleasure was agonizing, her feeding a torment and dark gift. She drew the blood from his bursting veins, pulling it into her body with a hunger that matched his own. He could feel her heart drive his as the two organs fought for dominance and control.

As lost as he was to her in that moment, he was not going to allow her any advantage. As she fed from his neck, he turned her wrist and sliced into it, completing the union. The blood flowed from one to another, and then back again, finding its own dark rhythm and pulse.

And the mental bond was extraordinary. Aeron could see her entire life, laid before him in a manner that went far beyond mere intimacy. And she could see his, every nuance, every detail. There was no way to hide, no manner in which they could conceal themselves from the other. It was too much to process, a dizzying array of centuries flashing across the mental landscape in seconds.

Ryan was suddenly in the blood-red netherworld, as was Aeron. They stood face-to-face, Aeron holding her tightly in his arms lest she try to escape.

But she did not try to escape. Aeron looked down at her, then at the beckoning blackness beyond the edge.

"So what now?" Ryan asked, glancing at the blackness as if mildly entertained. "Do you intend to fling me off into the darkness?"

She seemed amused at this prospect, and he gazed down at her, remembering the intoxicating invitation she had given him centuries before, balancing playfully on the edge of death.

"Perhaps," he said, his eyes narrowing. It was such a tempting possibility, and would bring such immediate and immense physical gratification.

Ryan merely smiled. "Or perhaps you'd like to go there with me?"

Aeron's jaw clenched. She had no idea the power of her invitation. He looked into her eyes seeing the ever-present preternatural amus.e.m.e.nt.

Or perhaps she did.

She gazed into the darkness with a remarkable lack of concern, then up at the deepening red of the sky. "My wounds are great, you might actually be successful at tossing me into the great night."

She shrugged, as if it were of no consequence. "Perhaps not."

Aeron's struggle was great. She was taunting him with his greatest desire, appealing to the deepest, most predatory aspect within him. She was daring him to consummate their union as he had so many others over the centuries, to take her to the very brink of death and then fling her into its depths.

Ryan stared up at him curiously. She thought for certain he would have attempted to kill her by now. As always, in this world, that thought caused her no concern. And it wasn't even the certainty of outcome, whether she would live or she would die, that gave her such nonchalance.

It was simply that the edge of death was her playground.

She gazed off into the blackness, but then became aware of his intense scrutiny. She looked up at him, puzzled as to why he would merely stand there, staring at her. His blue eyes burned with a strange intensity, a look that Ryan had not seen before and did not understand. She looked at him, the question in her eyes.

And then he did the one thing that she least expected him to do, the one thing that she was completely unprepared for, the one thing for which she truly had no defense.

He kissed her.

It was pa.s.sionate, brutal, filled with possession and longing. It was deep and prolonged, stunning on every level.

Aeron awoke with a start from the trance, lying atop the girl on the sofa. She was pale, obviously a result of her wounds and his feeding, as well as the virus that raged through her system. His blood was still on her lips. He knew that she had not withdrawn from him, but rather had ultimately succ.u.mbed to the combination of her injuries and her illness.

He gazed down at her, astonished that she could satisfy him even in her weakened condition, for he was truly sated. What astonished him even more was that he could feel a new hunger stirring even now; his desire undiminished by the physical gratification. The girl was like a drug to him, one that increased its potency upon every use.

She stirred, her golden eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbone, the heat rising from her cheeks. But she did not awaken, and he knew that she would not for some time.

He sat upright, his eyes narrowing, but unwilling to break physical contact with her. This had been a most unexpected outcome.

CHAPTER 21.

RYAN SLOWLY OPENED HER EYES. For a moment she reveled in the sensation of her coverlet, the feeling of the silk against her skin. She closed her eyes again, breathing deeply the familiar smells. The air was fresh, scented of the deep ocean, with that peculiar, wonderful odor of ionization that surrounded waterfalls. She enjoyed the musicality of the water as it flowed downward to the ocean another thousand feet.

Ryan opened her eyes, her thoughts coalescing with frightening speed.

She sat up, her eyes seeking the open doors to the balcony and the figure that sat beyond.

Aeron was there, casually reading the newspaper while seated at the table. He was dressed in a billowing white shirt, open at the collar, and comfortable tan pants that were close-fitting but not tight. He was barefoot, his long legs crossed at the ankle, appearing for all the world like the lord of the manor relaxing at breakfast.

Ryan was furious. She threw the sheets back and left the bed, removing her bedclothes as she did so. She stalked to her closet and quickly pulled on a loose shirt and a pair of jeans, not bothering with shoes.

Aeron, sensing her presence behind him, looked up from his newspaper expectantly.

"h.e.l.lo my dear, I trust you slept well."

Ryan moved in front of him, and he took the opportunity to admire her form.

"Where is my father?" she asked, a dangerous edge to her voice.

Aeron continued his perusal, then allowed his eyes to drift back to hers. "He's right where you left him, my dear." He continued his inventory, his arrogance p.r.o.nounced. His eyes drifted to her throat, caressing the light bruise still evident on her neck. "As is Dr. Ryerson and her young son."

Ryan's jaw tightened further, and Aeron looked down at his paper once more, as if it were no matter. "Your staff, on the other hand, have all been replaced."

Ryan was livid. Without another word, she turned and was out the door.

Aeron sighed, folding his paper and getting to his feet. The girl had almost as bad a temper as he did.

Susan peered into a microscope. She was having a difficult time concentrating, and had been for quite some time. Without lifting her eyes, she looked to the guards at the door who watched her with unblinking eyes. They were frightening, with an insolence that was insulting. They also kept looking at her as if they wanted to eat her. Or worse.

Susan glanced over at Jason, who occupied himself by nervously playing with some test tubes. He, too, glanced over at the menacing figures by the door. He didn't want to be away from his mother right now, so he had to endure their presence.

Susan looked through the microscope, but was startled into nearly screaming as the laboratory door slammed open. She reached for Jason, but her fear moderated when she saw Ryan come through the door. It did not entirely diminish, however, because Ryan herself was in terrifying form.

Ryan took two steps and accosted the first guard.

"Get out," she said between clenched teeth.

Either the man was unable to process who was standing in front of him, or he was just genuinely slow. Ryan had patience for neither. She picked the man up by his belt and by his throat and threw him headfirst through the door, which, unfortunately for him, had just closed behind her.

Aeron was nearing the doorway when the man's head splintered through the door, followed by his entire body. He marveled at the force involved, which had been so perfectly concentrated it had not torn the door from the hinges, but rather exploded a hole right through it. He stepped over the p.r.o.ne figure and pushed through the material of the door that remained attached, just in time to see Ryan preparing a second missile.

He grabbed her roughly, trapping her wrists and pulling her away from the second guard. He thought he could restrain her for only a moment.

"Get out, you idiot," he snarled at the guard. The terrified man responded instantly, staggering toward the door and disappearing into the hallway.

"Ryan," Aeron said, struggling with the girl. "Stop it!"

He locked her into an embrace, picking her forcibly up off the ground. She struggled with him, face-to-face, but he would not release her. He concentrated all of his influence on her, and she felt and resisted the unwelcome soothing. But she was also keenly aware of his proximity, which was now having a different but just as immobilizing effect on her.

She stopped struggling, gazing into his eyes with fury. He took her measure for a moment, a.s.sessing her volatility, then set her on her feet. He did not release her.

Susan stared with eyes as wide as Jason's, but for different reasons. Jason was frightened by the fighting he had witnessed. The fighting frightened Susan as well, but it was the currents swirling between the two in front of her that dominated her attention.

The man was ruthlessly handsome, as fair as Ryan with startling blue eyes and a virility that was crushing. But it wasn't even his magnificent appearance that was so arresting.

It was the dark and violent s.e.xual tension between he and Ryan that was astonishing, like some great beast that sat between them, ready to consume them both. The sensuality swirled between them, snaking outward with tendrils like smoke from a scarcely hidden fire.

"You can release me now," Ryan said sarcastically.