Blood Legacy: The House Of Alexander Part 24

Aeron relaxed his hold, but still held her firmly against him, his hands about her waist. He glanced down at her with amus.e.m.e.nt "Aren't you going to introduce me?" he asked, nodding toward Susan.

Ryan's eyes flashed with anger and her jaw closed with an audible snap. Even so, she turned, and in her very compromising position, addressed Susan.

"Susan, this is Aeron," she said, biting her words off, "the one responsible for the attempt on my father's life."

"Hmm, yes," Aeron said without taking his eyes from Ryan, "It's not as if it was the first, my love." He finally raised his eyes to Susan. "I am pleased to meet you, Dr. Ryerson."

Susan gazed into the man's ice blue eyes and found him completely terrifying. Paradoxically, she also found him completely attractive, although it was difficult to reconcile the two.

Aeron turned back to Ryan, and with one final a.s.sessment of her stability, released her. Ryan quickly stepped back, pus.h.i.+ng him away. Her actions seemed only to amuse him, increasing Ryan's irritation.

"We are on an island," she reminded him scathingly, "I hardly think Dr. Ryerson requires a guard."

Aeron examined the damaged door. "You are probably right," he said, surprising her. "Even so," he said, turning to her directly. "I do not want you to spend time with Dr. Ryerson alone."

Ryan's reply was immediate and caustic. "And at what point in time did you deceive yourself into thinking I care what you want?"

Aeron's reply was as icy as Ryan's was scorching. "Do not make me threaten the doctor in front of her son." He turned to face Ryan fully. "I trust the doctor to make intelligent decisions regarding her actions. I," he said with emphasis, "Do not trust you at all."

He turned and stalked from the room, as did Ryan, who turned on her heel and left in the opposite direction.

The two human occupants stared wide-eyed as what was left of the door settled into a semi-closed position. As startling and violent as the entire confrontation had been, Susan had the oddest feeling she had just witnessed a lover's quarrel.

Ryan stood at her father's bedside, gazing down at him. He seemed serene, untouched, exactly as she had last seen him. He appeared no better, but no worse, than when she had been here before.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, taking his hand in hers. It was not warm, but neither was it cold and stiff like the dead. She held it quietly, her thoughts her own.

Aeron could strike at her father at any time. Ryan did not think she could escape with Victor, for Aeron knew where she was every second of the day. She could feel his presence loom over her even now. Although she thought it possible that she herself could escape, it would be quite impossible to take her comatose father.

And Susan Ryerson's presence complicated matters even more. The odds of her being able to rescue both Dr. Ryerson and her son, as well as her father, were minimal. And although Aeron surely knew her loyalty to her father was penultimate, he would not hesitate to use Susan and Jason as leverage.

Ryan glanced down at Victor once more. Aeron would not harm Victor, but not because he did not wish to. Victor's vulnerability was Aeron's greatest weapon against her. If he destroyed Victor, there would be nothing to hold Ryan in check.

Ryan again played all the options through her head. Of course, Aeron could try and kill her, leaving both her father and Susan helpless. But if that had been his objective, he could have easily struck at both of them prior to Ryan ever arriving back at the island. Apparently he had known where they were.

Ryan's eyes narrowed. No, he obviously wanted them as leverage, at least for the time being.

Ryan wandered back to her room. Aeron was not here, but he was not far. She walked out onto the balcony, unsurprised to see their eternal chess game sitting on the table. The rook that she had so aimlessly moved on her last turn was now in jeopardy from an ivory knight. She a.s.sessed the board, then turned away, declining to make a move at the moment.

She walked into the adjacent shower room, although "shower" and "room" were not really apt descriptions of the immense facilities.

The bath was a small indoor lake, complete with natural rock and hot springs. The lake had been part of the island prior to their arrival, as well as the hot springs that rose from a great underwater vent on the ocean floor. Victor built the castle around the water features, as well as the volcanic rock, creating a beautiful, prehistoric oasis.

The shower was part of the waterfall that fell adjacent to the castle, although this small portion pooled above, then flowed right through the structure. Ryan moved to it now, removing her clothing. The frigid water felt exhilarating against her skin, its gentle flow was.h.i.+ng over her in small cascades. She reached for the bar of hand-made soap, enjoying its scent and frothy lather.

Ryan became aware of a presence, which did not surprise her, nor did it alter her behavior. She glanced over at Aeron, who leaned against a rock, watching her. She ignored him, continuing her ritual.

Aeron, for his part, was fascinated by the spectacle of the carelessly bathing creature. She was slender but powerfully built, no softness, nor hardness about her either, like some sinewy lioness, supple yet ready to strike with devastating strength. He watched the muscles ripple across her back as she bathed, saw the muscles in her thigh and calf flex as she leaned down, saw the perfection in her boyish hips and small backside. His eyes narrowed.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Aeron asked, his tone casual.

Ryan glanced over at him curiously, just the slightest irritation in her voice. "Suit yourself."

She turned away from him, not out of modesty, but because she had returned to her bar of soap. It never occurred to her to feel embarra.s.sment, because nudity held no vulnerability for her, nor any relevance.

She did cast a sidelong glance at him as he undressed, more out of curiosity than anything else. The physical body was of interest to her aesthetically. She appreciated beauty and strength, as did all of their Kind. She rarely differentiated between male and female, enjoying the unique aspects of both.

In her sideways a.s.sessment, she realized that Aeron was probably the archetype of the perfect male physique. Broad shoulders and a muscular back tapered to a slender waist and slim hips, with powerful thighs and well-developed calves. He was leanly muscular with no thickness about him anywhere. When he turned, she noted his strong chest and ridged abdominal muscles. She turned back to her was.h.i.+ng.

Aeron was aware of the scrutiny, and was amused by it. The girl really was an inhuman creature, possessing none of the normal cues that even their Kind retained after a few decades of humanity.

Ryan was trying to wash her back, which normally she had no difficulty doing. But the wound that had been twice opened beneath her ribs caused her pain, and she was having trouble reaching.

"Would you like me to help you with that?"

Aeron's smooth voice in her ear startled her, as did his proximity.

"I have been bathing myself quite competently for seven hundred years, now," she said, her slight irritation again on display, "I don't think I need your help."

Aeron merely smiled, taking the soap from her hands. He turned her by her shoulders and began lathering his hands. He began ma.s.saging the lather into her skin.

The sensation of his hands and the soapy lather against her exceptionally sensitive skin was electrifying. She had to will herself to stand still, wanting to pull away from him and the feelings it aroused. Instead, she stood staidly, patiently, like some great thoroughbred suffering the attention of a stable boy.

For Aeron, the sensations were exhilarating. The feel of her skin beneath his hands and the proximity of her body to his was breathtaking, had he any breath in him. The sight and feel and smell of her was intoxicating. Strangely enough, he felt something stirring within him, something that was quite impossible.

Aeron stopped, and Ryan became aware of his sudden stillness. She turned to look at him over her shoulder. He was looking down, his hands still on her shoulders.

Ryan glanced down curiously. She examined another part of his body, again noting his proportionality. She looked up at him, and he was gazing at her with an indeterminate expression in his blue eyes.

"Does that happen very often?" she asked, the question innocent without naivete, just a trace amused, but more curious than anything else.

He gazed at her. "It hasn't happened in over 1500 years," he said mildly.

She glanced down again, then turned back to her was.h.i.+ng. "It looks inconvenient."

Aeron gazed at the impossible creature in front of him. "Inconvenient" was both an understatement and incredibly accurate. Rhiannon Alexander was "inconvenient" in the same way. He grabbed her shoulders and forcibly turned her to face him.

There was a wicked mischief about her right now as her eyes lingered on the throbbing vein in his neck. Her eyes drifted to his mouth, then to his eyes.

"So are you going to kiss me again?" she asked, more amus.e.m.e.nt than bite in her words.

And Aeron did just that, biting his lip as his mouth covered hers.

The shock of his blood in her mouth was intensely pleasurable, and Ryan did not resist when the kiss deepened, unable to defy her most primitive instinct. The dark power flowed from his lips into her veins, and Ryan felt her control slipping away.

She turned her head, but he held it fast, gently but firmly guiding her to a new target. Her lips pressed against the throbbing vein in his neck. Although she knew she could not stop the inevitable, she could at least torture him by delay.

Aeron's frustration was immense as the girl lightly bit him, intentionally failing to break the skin. Her lips feathered the skin, cool against his burning flesh. He forcibly lifted her, carrying her three steps to the cus.h.i.+oned face of a smooth rock, where he pulled her down upon him.

"If you don't bite me," he whispered in fury, "I will take every ounce of blood in your body."

Ryan did not cease her torture of the blood vessel. "I get that a lot," she murmured.

He tensed and Ryan knew that she had pushed him as far as she could. It wouldn't have mattered, anyway, for her own hunger was overcoming any self-control she might have had left.

Her teeth sliced into his neck, hard and deep, her lips not letting a single drop of red fall from his skin. He arched and moaned from both pleasure and the sting of her bite. The girl was a monster, a beautiful, seductive, irresistible monster. She s.h.i.+fted her weight, and the feel of her body against his added a level of sensation that strained even his extraordinary senses.

He felt the languor begin steal over him, felt the dark seduction of this One, the invitation to continue into that warm lethargy. It took every bit of his immense willpower to fight the dreamy torpor that was settling on him, the intoxication of the d.a.m.ned.

He wasn't even certain he could get the girl to stop, so physically powerful was she. But he was strong enough to roll her over, using his superior weight to restrain her beneath him. It took all of his strength, as well as all of his resolve, to pull away from her.

She looked up at him, the preternatural amus.e.m.e.nt evident.

I will get you sooner or later.

Aeron examined the girl's features, gathering his strength. "I don't think so," he said, lowering his head and violently piercing her neck.

And then he s.h.i.+fted his weight, pinning her, and pierced her again.

Ryan arched from the pain, clutching his back reflexively. It was difficult to determine which was the more painful, the first or second penetration.

For Aeron's part, he immediately froze. He slowly lifted his head, staring down at the girl in astonishment. It had never occurred to him that she was a virgin. He gazed down at her perfect features, searching both her eyes and mind.

There was no recrimination in her, no need, no want, no shame, no anger, no humiliation, truly, no recognizable human emotion a.s.sociated with s.e.x at all. The pain was natural to her, forever intertwined with desire. And to Aeron's growing understanding and wonder, she examined the act as a true innocent, responding as instinctively and unenc.u.mbered as a young wild animal pa.s.sing into s.e.xual maturity, curious and unafraid.

It was the most erotic thing he had ever come across in his entire, immortal life.

As Aeron examined her thoughts, she voiced one of her own.

"I now see how my mother was nearly killed in this act," she said through slightly clenched teeth.

The comment drove Aeron into madness. He again fell upon her neck, taking her life's blood into him. But instead of driving into her as he wanted, he moved more gently, methodically, with a gentle, painstaking consistency. If "all" of his anatomy was as altered as that which he knew, he could probably seriously injure the girl.

Ryan felt the pain in her neck increase, but the pain in her body decrease, replaced by a gentle but unrelenting rhythm that was in sharp contrast to the driving rhythm of their blood exchange.

Aeron fed on her, but would not allow the lethargy to take hold, demanding that she take his blood in turn. It was a demand that required little coercion, for her hunger was insatiable. The added level of sensation of the physical union was staggering, creating waves of pleasure and pain that threatened to crush them both.

Slowly, inexorably, the two rhythms began to merge, joining into a single driving force. Aeron felt the girl so perfectly joined with him that it seemed they were one, existing in a primordial union so old it would dwarf the history of this world. Their blood pa.s.sed from one to the other in a continuous flow, surging through one heart and then the other, driven by the same insistent rhythm. The merging of their physical bodies became almost immaterial, simply one more strand of the web that wrapped about them so tightly it constricted time itself.

Aeron did not know if he would reach climax, having never experienced the act since his Change. He did not know if he could sustain the agonizing peak of pleasure that he and the girl had been at for what seemed days. He thought that if he did reach culmination, it would probably kill them both, for there couldn't be anything survivable beyond the ecstasy that they had already experienced.

He was wrong.

He and the girl were in the blood-red netherworld, as intertwined in this world as they were in the real one. But here there were waves of blood, flowing over them, lifting them upward, then cras.h.i.+ng them downward, tumbling them about, dangerously close to the edge of blackness. The waves carried them back out to the red sea, but each set brought them inexorably closer to that edge.

Aeron knew that he should care, knew that he should release the girl, but he could not. He could not stop his pa.s.sion, could not stop his rhythm, could not stop holding her. A wave pushed them to the black sand that edged the darkness, where licking flames cast deep shadows. The girl lay there for a moment, waiting languorously for the redness to wash over them again. She glanced into the blackness, unconcerned, then turned to him. He saw the devilish gleam in her eye, the demonic question she was posing to him.

Are you sure you want to mate with the dragon?

Aeron was infuriated and inflamed; he did not relinquish his hold or slow his escalating rhythm in any way. He held her tightly, gazing down, a demonic light in his own eyes.

"My ancient name is Arawn," he said, his blue eyes gleaming.

The girl smiled, understanding the significance.

"And contrary to any foolish myths that state otherwise," he said through tightly clenched teeth, "The G.o.d and G.o.ddess of the underworld are one."

Rhiannon glanced up at the approaching wave, the face of which seemed to block out the sky. She turned to Aeron.

"I know."

And with one last great thrust, the wave carried them over the edge and into the blackness beyond.

Aeron semi-awoke, his mind clouded. He was exhausted and disoriented, but not so much that he didn't glance down to make certain the girl was still in his arms.

She was, completely unconscious, her features in perfect, angelic, androgynous repose.

He tried to concentrate, but his fatigue was too great. He could not process what had happened, why they were both not dead. He knew that they both had gone willingly into the blackness, but somehow had both survived.

The fatigue he felt was crus.h.i.+ng, and he felt himself again drifting in and out of consciousness, listing toward the latter. He knew that the sun had crossed the sky several times during their fierce union. He pulled the girl close, knowing he would awaken if she stirred.

As he again fell asleep, he was disturbed by a flash, something less of a memory and more of an impression. He tried to raise his consciousness to a.n.a.lyze the meaning, but instead this last semi-coherent thought left him with uneasy dreams.

He turned in his sleep as the dreams took hold of him, dreams of something cold, something ancient, something prehistorically reptilian. Something that had reached out of the darkness with great hooked claws and arrested the girl's fall, stopping his descent only because he had been holding on to her.

CHAPTER 22.

RYAN AWOKE. SHE WAS ONCE AGAIN in her bed, the feel of silk and the sound of the waterfall instantly familiar. She sat up. Familiar, and yet now completely alien, as was everything she had ever known.

She looked through the billowing curtains onto the balcony beyond. Aeron was seated there, as she knew he would be. She examined him, noting with a certain detachment how devastatingly handsome he was. She rose, leisurely dressed, and joined him on the balcony.

He glanced up as she sat down across from him. He tried to a.s.sess her mood, expecting anything from cold fury to complete indifference. He could not really get a fix on her frame of mind, however, as her demeanor seemed very enigmatic.

Ryan gazed down at the chess pieces. The ebony rook was still in jeopardy, but she declined to move it. Instead, she leaned forward, and moved a bishop that seemed quite out of play at the moment.

Aeron studied the move, realizing the rook had been a feint. The bishop was two moves away from placing his queen in an unrecoverable position. He studied the board for a moment longer, recognizing the very dangerous pattern developing. He placed his hand on the queen, preparing to move it, when there was a loud knock at the door.

"Come in," he said, irritation evident in his voice. He moved the queen, removing his hand from the piece. He looked up at the cowering servant who approached, while Ryan didn't bother. She leaned forward and now moved the rook. Aeron glanced quickly at the move, his attention divided, then back at the man.

"What?" he demanded, furious at the interruption.

"My lord," the man began, his voice shaking. He stopped, so great was his fear at delivering his message.