I learned, after misting there, that the cliffs of Dover were now a very protected place, and one might see them best from a hoverboat in the sea. Transportation had certainly changed—I saw that quickly. I was glad I'd kept my credit chip necklace on—that's how I paid to get aboard the tourist boat. Now I stood at the rail, staring at the white cliffs in the distance and wiping away tears. I'd cared about Merrill once—now I knew why. And he'd sabotaged it, repeatedly. He and Griffin, together, had done terrible harm to me. One of them refused me, sight unseen, and the other manipulated my birth and death. How was I supposed to forgive that? How?
It has become my philosophy, over the years, that anger is a heavy burden, and it is better to let it go than carry it around. Perhaps I'd forgiven too much through my life, but I preferred that to the alternative. Until now, there was only one person who would never have my forgiveness, and that person was Howard Graham. Merrill and Griffin had just joined him.
"Your father and your intended mate never thought things might come to this." He shone beside me. And Power? I'd never felt so much of it. "One of them never expected you to live and remember, the other never thought to admit his deed. Now you know of both. What you do with that information is your choice. I am Belen," he smiled down at me.
He was tall. And in corporeal form, he had pale hair and blinding white eyes. I found myself staring at Belen of the Nameless Ones.
"Intended mate," I huffed. Merrill made a choice, shoving me in Gavin's direction. And then he'd never interfered, when I was beaten by the Council or when I suffered from Gavin's bouts of anger. No, Gavin hadn't realized how much that anger had cost me—until he'd caused me to break on a September night at Camp David. Now, he didn't remember me or anything we'd had between us.
"Merrill belonged with you, Lissa. And he had that bond destroyed. It is costing him, now. As much as he might wish to restore it, that wish will not be granted by my kind."
"What about Gavin?" I muttered.
"He also was yours. Neither will that bond be restored by my kind." I dropped to my knees and wept. "I only said it would not be restored by my kind." Belen disappeared.
"What did we damage?" Merrill asked with a sigh. Kiarra had just come from a meeting with Belen.
"A M'Fiyah with you would have meant Lissa's membership in the Saa Thalarr. Now, Belen says another path is opening before her. One he barely understands. She won't ever come to us. And she could have done so much, too." Kiarra shook her head. "We could send her after the worst of the worst, Merrill, and it would be child's play to her. There are no rules about bringing natural talent into the Saa Thalarr."
"I didn't know," Merrill muttered.
"Griffin could have said something. He didn't," Kiarra snapped. "Now, Lissa's pissed at both of you, and we have no idea where she is. Belen wouldn't tell me earlier, and Drake and Drew are going crazy. Shadow Grey has sent mindspeech six times. I have no idea what to do about that."
A spring rain poured down as I strode angrily through the fields and grounds near Merrill's old manor. I knew what I searched for, and I walked instead of misting there. The cold rain and exercise would help clear my mind. At least I hoped it would. The gate was there, and I stared at the spot just outside it, where René died. No memorial had been placed. No flowers. No pile of stones or any other thing to remember him by. He only lived in my memory, now.
"René, what am I supposed to do?" I dropped to my knees. My hair hung in wet strands about my face and my clothing dripped water as I hugged myself and wept.
"Franklin?"
Frank lifted his head—he'd been working at a drafting table inside his workshop. His twin brother, Jeff, asked him to design a charity clinic for the jungles on Ooblerik. The indigent population was growing; the government ignored the poor in the cities as well as the aborigines in their southern jungles. Jeff and Karzac were in those jungles now, immunizing children against a disease destroying their numbers.
Franklin had to design something that would fit with the local architecture, and still hold the examination rooms and spaces for supplies that Jeff requested. Franklin added a few hospital rooms to the structure—he feared they might be needed.
"Conner?" Frank asked, although he should have known better than to say Conner's name—the Guardian was present, and bore little resemblance to Conner's normal form. White, shifting flames regarded him with piercing eyes.
"Go to this place. Now." The Guardian's eyes were filled with light and an image was placed in Franklin's mind.
Frank knew the place—the old gate was there—the one Griffin closed so Merrill's property would remain safe. Only Griffin and the Saa Thalarr ever used it now, and that only sparingly—they could fold space, after all.
"Of course." Franklin dropped his screen stylus—his drafting table was a computer and everything he designed was digital. More instructions filtered into Franklin's mind, even as he folded away.
He was Merrill's son. And Kiarra's—the scent told me that as he knelt beside me. He'd shown up as I sobbed my heart out, rocking on the cold ground outside the gate on his father's property.
"Go away," I stuttered. The rain was cold and I was frozen, my teeth chattering. Did I expect him to look so much like Merrill? No. And he wasn't vampire. This was Franklin. The one who didn't remember me. And he didn't look or smell like my Frank, either.
"Lissa?" Franklin lifted my face to stare into his.
Flavio studied the electronic reports he'd received from contacts in the U.S. There were increasing numbers of disappearances in California, most concentrated along the coast between Los Angeles and Monterey. Tourist season had begun; vacationers and instate visitors were flocking to the coastal areas for the beach and cooler temperatures. Eight humans had disappeared in the last two weeks and there were no clues to be had. The local authorities were confused—no bodies had been found and the last to disappear was a father and his fourteen-year-old son two days earlier. Normally Flavio's suspicions wouldn't be raised—humans often went crazy and killed. But there was a thriving community of vampires in the area—they also liked the cooler temperatures and misty nights when they came. There'd been a marked decrease in orders of blood substitute recently—and that fact had not gone unnoticed by the two vampires in charge of distributing supplies to the locals.
"Who do we have?" Flavio looked up at Charles, who'd been tidying up.
"You want to send somebody to the California coast?" Charles asked.
"Yes. And soon."
"Gavin and Anthony are the only ones available. They can go. May I make a suggestion, though?" Charles offered Flavio a hopeful glance.
"I suppose," Flavio looked up at his vampire child, who'd accepted a position as Spawn Hunter for the Saa Thalarr. Flavio didn't understand how Charles kept up with all his duties. Charles claimed it was all worth it to be able to eat normal food and walk in daylight. Of course, being able to fold space anywhere was worth it, too, according to Charles.
"Ask Lissa to go with them. Father, you have no idea how fast she can deal with something like this. If vampires are involved, that's a lot of people they're taking. It needs to stop quickly, if that's what is happening."
"You don't need to tell me that," Flavio held his head. "How do we ask her?" Charles smiled at Flavio's question.
"Drink this." I was wrapped in a heated blanket and Franklin and Shane were tending me. Tomas, their third mate, handed over a mug of hot soup. They'd tried to explain, Frank and Shane, that Conner, as the Guardian, had shown them their past years ago. She held that power, Frank said. The Guardian escorted lost souls to the other side—that was one of the things she did.
Franklin looked exactly like Merrill, with black hair and piercing blue eyes. Shane, well, he was shorter than Greg, with sandy blond hair, brown eyes and a quick grin.
"Mom and Dad don't have a clue, and the Guardian said to keep the information to ourselves. She said we'd know someday why it was given to us," Frank's smile could twist anybody's heart.
"Frankie, I missed you," I sniffled. "I'm not sure I can get used to calling you Shane," I turned to the reincarnated Greg.
"I know, baby girl," Frank put his arms around me. "You need to stop shivering. This isn't good for you."
"Crying isn't good for you either," Shane pointed out dryly.
"Does my face look awful?" I worried my lower lip.
"Lissa, you've never looked better to me in my life," Shane grinned.
"How much do you remember?" I searched his face.
"Everything," his grin widened.
"And he doesn't mind talking about it," Tomas interrupted. He was smiling, too, so it wasn't a problem. Tomas had an Asian heritage with a lovely nose, dark eyes and a square jaw.
"We just can't spill the beans with Mom and Dad," Franklin cautioned.
"I won't be talking to your father," I muttered, drinking my soup.
"Yeah. I heard," Frank sighed.
"Baby, we were scared to death." Drew lifted me and almost cracked a rib; he hugged me so hard. Frank, Shane and Tomas had finally gotten me warmed up and convinced me to return to the villa. I'd learned that Conner, when she looked human, that is, was married to Martin Walters, Russell, Will, Graegar, Barrigar and Lynx, one of the Saa Thalarr I hadn't met. Frank laughed at me as I stared at him in shock—he'd attempted to explain who was mated to whom. It was overwhelming, and I still wanted to know what being married to a Larentii was like.
"Drew, I can't breathe," I wheezed. He kissed me when he set me down, and then Drake moved his brother aside and did exactly the same. I had no idea what to do with both of them. I knew what they wanted to do with me, though—that had been evident when they hugged me.