Blood Legacy: The Story of Ryan Part 13

"This is a picture of your internal organs." Susan laid out the hard copy of the MRI and Ryan leaned over it with interest.

"Are you familiar with normal human anatomy?"

Ryan did not look up from the picture. "Quite."

Susan nodded, all business. "Good, then you'll understand what I'm saying." She pointed to the heart. "This is about three times the normal size of a human's heart. It's probably developed this way to accommodate the large amount of blood your body sometimes holds."

Ryan nodded. "I notice the entire circulatory is extremely developed. That makes sense."

Susan nodded her agreement. "You said you don't eat. That also matches your anatomy. I don't see a stomach or any digestive organs. Your esophagus," Susan tapped the drawing, "Appears to be attached here, so it's become a part of your digestive system..."

Susan removed some more readouts. "Now the strength test you gave me the other day yielded some very interesting results."

Ryan stared over her shoulder as Susan continued. "I think I can explain at least some of your strength ."

Susan set the charts on top of the MRI readout, then turned to look up at Ryan. "Normal strength levels or strength increases are generally due to muscle hypertrophy, or an increase in muscle size. Even though you're very muscular," she said, "your size can't account for your incredible strength."

Ryan nodded her understanding and Susan continued. "Muscle hyperplasia, the splitting of muscle fibers, could account for normal strength increases. But your strength increases are so far outside normal ranges that, even though an a.n.a.lysis of your muscle tissue indicates extreme hyperplasia, it's not even close to being an explanation."

Ryan again nodded. "So if you're telling me it's neither of these things, I a.s.sume you have another explanation?"

Susan bobbed her head excitedly. "I didn't really key on it until I was looking at your charts. It's not anything particular to the muscle itself, but rather the muscle's neuro-efficiency."

Ryan examined the charts. "So what you're saying is, it's not the way the muscle and nerves are firing, but the rate at which they're firing."

Susan was surprised at the remarkably accurate summary. She looked up at Ryan. "Exactly. The nerve impulses in your body are firing so quickly my equipment can't measure it." She glanced back down at the charts. "But it's definitely thousands of times faster than a normal human being."

Ryan was thoughtful. "I read somewhere that bone can withstand 20,000 pounds of pressure and it is the limitations of human connective tissue which limit strength."

Susan agreed. "Right. That and the body's own safety mechanisms which keep it from injuring itself." She then qualified the statement. "But you may not have either of those limitations. And," she added, "your bones may be even stronger."

"Speaking of bones," Susan said, her tone of voice changing slightly, "let me take a look at your teeth."

Ryan smiled, neither perturbed nor fooled by Susan's unsubtle request. Susan thought for a moment that Ryan was going to refuse her, but then the golden-haired woman simply shrugged and opened her mouth slightly.

Susan moved forward cautiously, and her caution seemed to amuse Ryan. She pulled a penlight from her pocket and shined it into Ryan's mouth, still unable to see her teeth. She took another step closer, trying to peer in without actually getting too close. She had a tongue depressor in her left hand, and she used it to widen Ryan's jaw ever so slightly.

Ryan snapped her teeth together and the wooden depressor splintered at the pressure. Susan jumped backward and laughed nervously.

Ryan stared at the other woman with her unblinking gaze. "All you have to do, " she said with emphasis, "is ask."

Ryan smiled, revealing two rows of perfect teeth. There were no fangs, nothing out of the ordinary, just two rows of gleaming bicuspids.

Ryan picked up the piece of paper the strength tests were recorded on. She ran it lightly over the front of her teeth. It made a shearing noise as it split in two, a noise similar to that of sharpened scissors pa.s.sing through notebook paper. The human occupant of the room stared as the papers fluttered to the floor.

Ryan gazed at Susan with her unwavering gaze, then did something Susan had never seen her do. She blinked.

Susan stared up at her, not certain she had seen what she thought she had seen. Although Ryan had blinked, she had done so without closing her eyes.

Susan moved in closer, fascinated. "Do that again."

Ryan obliged and again blinked. Susan brought the penlight back into operation and stood on tiptoe. "One more time, but this time leave it closed."

Ryan obliged and Susan stepped back in amazement. "You have a second eyelid, just like a shark." She waved her hand in front of Ryan's face. "It's nearly translucent. Can you see this?"

Ryan's hand flashed out and she seized Susan's wrist. "I can see fine."

"That's amazing," Susan murmured, thinking aloud. "Shark's developed a second eyelid because they're such fierce predators, I wonder why..."

Susan's words trailed off and she felt a huge discomfort at the implications of her own words. She also suddenly realized how close in proximity she was to Ryan. She stepped back. Ryan released her wrist, smiling her tight smile, now revealing no teeth.

"I should probably leave now, Dr. Ryerson," she said, gently mocking, "I have other business I have to attend to."

Susan nodded dumbly and stood there while the woman let herself out. She felt disoriented and could not even generate anger at herself for the way she was acting. Ryan had the strangest mixture of power and vulnerability, of self-confidence and reticence, as if she possessed an extraordinary ability that she herself fought to keep under control.

Susan looked down at the strength chart that was now sheared in two. She glanced over at the tongue depressor that was now in splinters.

She had a pretty good idea what Ryan used that second eyelid for.

CHAPTER 17.

RYAN WATCHED VICTOR MOVE through the courtyard, admiring his grace and physical beauty, unaware that she looked and moved the same way. He spoke to her, and in even the simplest interaction, his desire for her was subtly present.

"Take your sword, *boy,' or I shall slay you where you stand."

Ryan mimicked his mocking manner. "I should like to see that, my lord." Her sword was on the ground in front of her and she flipped it upward with the tip of her boot, catching it easily in her hand. Although the sword was heavy and looked far too large for her slight frame, she wielded it easily. She took a couple of practice swings through the air, then lunged toward her mentor.

Victor deflected the blade and the fierce engagement was on. Many stopped their ch.o.r.es to watch the Master and his young charge battle, marveling at the savagery of the fight. It was said that few could match the ferocity of their mock engagements, even in the heat of battle.

Rumors had spread when the boy had appeared from nowhere. Many felt his lordship had sired a b.a.s.t.a.r.d and was training him for warfare so the boy could raise his station in life. Others felt there was another, more sinister motive, that his lordship had tired of women and had taken a liking to boys. Most shrugged, b.u.g.g.e.ry was not acceptable, but not uncommon either.

Whatever the boy's purpose, few would speak aloud of it for fear of the Master.

Ryan fought skillfully, parrying Victor's thrusts and counterattacking.

Once Ryan had begun to adjust to the Change, Victor began to educate her in everything from reading and rudimentary mathematics to the art of warfare. He himself had traveled much of the known world and beyond, and he set out to pa.s.s on his formidable knowledge to his prodigy.

Victor was never disappointed in Ryan and if anything, was continually amazed at her. He had chosen far better than he could ever have wished. Born into a world where stability was prized and change was abhorred, she faced the unknown with an astounding insouciance.

Victor performed a complex series of maneuvers that Ryan struggled to defend against. She had lost her sword previously, but she had also learned from her mistake. Although the defense was awkward, it was successful and she pushed him back.

Victor laughed, pleased. His "boy" was one of the most skillful swordsman he had ever seen, and he had seen many. Victor sheathed his sword. And he had killed as many.

Victor threw his arm about Ryan's shoulders as the two walked into the castle. Once inside the main hall, Ryan loosened her hair and let it fall about her shoulders. No one would trespa.s.s within these walls unless called, and both she and Victor would be aware of an intruder's presence long before they were aware of theirs.

Victor removed his leather jerkin, revealing a white, embroidered shirt beneath. Ryan removed her mesh, revealing similar dress. She hung the chain mail on a rack. The metal sh.e.l.l was not so much heavy to her as unwieldy, and she was learning to fight in the c.u.mbersome garb.

Victor c.o.c.ked his head to one side and motioned to Ryan. Ryan stepped back, disappearing into the shadows. It was another skill Victor had taught her, one she was quick to perfect.

The knock came at the door and Victor took his seat.

"Enter."

The messenger came through the great doors, followed by two of the castle guards. The messenger bowed low as the guards took their posts close by, eager to protect their master.

The great Lord needed little if any protection, the messenger thought to himself. He fought to still his trembling.

Even as a child he had heard stories of the great Lord of the east, a man from a line of warriors so powerful that no King dared conscript them and no Prince dared demand tribute. The King had never asked for this man's help, but his father had.

The messenger stood. "Your skill in battle is well-known, my lord, and your family is legendary. His royal majesty, Henry the V requests your allegiance."

The messenger leaned forward to hand Victor the parchment. Victor examined the doc.u.ment and the seal. He appeared unimpressed, both by the letter and the man's announcement.

He rolled the parchment and returned it to the man. "My skill is not known to this King. I have never stood at his side."

The messenger nodded. "This is true, my lord. But your father fought for Edward, the Black Prince, as did your father's father. Henry knows your family, and feels you can help him gain his land back from the French."

Victor laughed mockingly. "I am but one man. I have no armies, no foot soldiers. I have nothing to offer the King but my sword."

The messenger bowed his head once more. "That is all he requests, my lord."

Victor pondered the man's words. He had foreseen such a request. Each King had approached him over the years, all drawn by the legend of his family's prowess in battle. He had been careful that none should see him in their old age, and each new King thought he was his father's son, asking him to stand by England's side.

He had no wish to fight for this King's cause, nor any man's. But he had learned over time that denying a King's request was more trouble than it was worth. He did not fear the King, but had found it fruitful to respond to the throne's wishes. It generally brought him much reward, and enough respect and fear that he and his own were left alone in his remote lands.

Victor glanced down at the still-bowing man. And of course, he thought to himself, he did so ever love a good battle.

"You tell your King I will be in Agincourt before the new moon."

The messenger stood, surprised that his lordship knew of the King's location. It had been an unplanned destination as Henry had intended to march to Calais, but had been thwarted by the flooded Somme. This man somehow already knew where the King was headed. It was enough he said he would be there.

"Thank you my lord, and G.o.dspeed."

The messenger and two guards exited as Victor sat thoughtfully on his dais. Ryan moved from the shadows to his side. She waited expectantly for him to say something, and when he did not, she drew a dagger and began sharpening the edge with a flint. The silence became too great for her and at last she spoke.

"You will, of course, take me."

Victor looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Right now, my dear? You are so demanding."

Ryan's brow furrowed in anger, and with a flick of her wrist she sent the dagger sailing towards his throat. His hand moved too fast for even her eyes to see and he plucked the knife from the air.

Ryan stamped her foot. "I meant *take me with you.' And if you do not, you will not be *taking me' any time soon, either."

"Oh really," Victor said, fingering the blade, "as if you had any say in that."

As he finished his last word, his wrist flicked and the dagger flew back towards its owner, swifter and as true as she had thrown it. She cried out in pain as the knife impaled her just below her collarbone. She gazed down at the hilt of the dagger, her eyes burning with anger.

Victor was immediately mesmerized by the blood that began pouring from the wound, staining the white shirt. Once again he had underestimated the effect she had on him. He had to forcibly restrain himself from leaping from his chair.

"Come here," he commanded through clenched teeth.

Ryan gazed down at the blood on her hands and at the growing crimson stain on her shirt. She looked up at him defiantly. "I will not."

Victor felt his hunger as if it were a thing alive. He could not take his eyes from the scarlet stain. There was a growing hoa.r.s.eness in his voice.

"If the distance between you and I is too great even at this moment, what makes you think I could travel further without you?" Victor dragged his eyes from the blood to stare into her own. His words were evenly s.p.a.ced and brooked no further disobedience. "Now, come here!"

Ryan moved toward him, knowing she could not further defy him. But she lingered, still angry, and he s.n.a.t.c.hed her from her feet, dragging her to the chair with him. She was seated on his lap, facing him and he yanked the dagger from her chest. He buried his face in her b.l.o.o.d.y shirt and covered the wound with his mouth.

The pain from the wound was intense, but the pleasure from Victor's feeding was more so. As soon as her blood began to pulse through his veins, she began to see the visions.

She had seen them before when they had Shared, and each time they became clearer. She saw them vaguely when Victor fed upon her, more clearly when she fed upon him, and most clearly when they Shared together. She did not understand what she was seeing, nor did she have any control over the apparitions. The pictures came to her as dreams.

She could feel Victor's pleasure intensify as he was reaching satiety, and was so attuned to him she did not hesitate when he pulled away and leaned back, opening his throat to her. Ryan leaned forward, allowing her razor sharp teeth to whisper over the skin on his neck. Blood began pulsing into her mouth, giving Victor's engorged veins the release they needed and feeding her hunger.

The visions became startlingly clear and she nearly pulled away from him in her dismay. He had antic.i.p.ated her reaction and held her close, forcing her to continue.

Ryan saw a young peasant boy, fair-haired and fair-skinned. She saw her mother standing by the boy, and then her father pounding away at an anvil. They looked as they had decades before, long even before they had been killed in Derek's raid.

The vision changed and now she was chasing someone through the forest. It appeared to be an older boy, but still a child. The boy was agile but she was catching him easily. She leapt upon him, dragging him to her.

In shock, Ryan pulled away from Victor and the vision slipped away from her. She stared at her mentor in horror and dawning understanding.

"That was me, wasn't it?"

Victor stared at the youngster on his lap. She was nearing her eighth decade, but to him she was still a child. He wiped the blood from his mouth.

"Yes," he said calmly, "that was you."

Ryan still did not completely understand. "How could I see myself," she stopped, struggling for words, "in that way?"

Victor readjusted her weight, sitting up slightly. "Because you are looking through my eyes."

Ryan now pulled completely away from him, standing up. Victor let her go.

She stared at the man in front of her, a man who knew everything about her, but who suddenly seemed a stranger to her.

"You fed on me when I was a child."

Victor nodded, unperturbed. "I Shared with you when you were an infant, and then again as a young child. I gave you my blood when you were still human."