Blood Royal (Blood Destiny #5)

Blood Royal (Blood Destiny #5) Page 34

Chapter 14

"The Honored One isn't the only one with a temper." Charles examined the wrecked kitchen. He'd disagreed with Wlodek when he withheld information regarding Greg's illness and death, but knew better than to say anything.

Merrill was glad Franklin had been asleep—Griffin had placed him in a healing sleep at Merrill's request while Merrill took on the task of telling Lissa the news. Gavin was stunned at what had happened. He'd expected Lissa to weep uncontrollably. Somehow, though, they'd managed to push her over some sort of boundary, and uncontrollable anger had been the result instead. He knew the tears would come eventually, but now, none of them knew where she might be.

"I can set this to rights," Griffin appeared, examining the gaping hole in Merrill's kitchen wall with a deep sigh.

"The kitchen, perhaps," Merrill said with the tiniest bit of sarcasm.

"I told you it was a mistake," Griffin muttered. "You should have told her. She deserved the opportunity to see him before he passed."

"Maybe you should have pounded it into my head, instead," Merrill grumbled. Griffin snorted in reply.

"Where is she?" Wlodek demanded, walking in and surveying the damage. Gavin stood nearby, amazed when Griffin began using his power to put the kitchen back together.

"In a tree ten miles away, crying her eyes out," Griffin formed light around his hands and repaired the broken hinges on the refrigerator door before floating it back to its proper place.

"Will she return?" Gavin was now more frightened than before.

"No idea," Griffin grunted softly as he pulled broken bits of granite together with the ability that he held. The base of the island formed with a thought and a solid piece of granite flopped down on top of it. The hole in the wall came next; dust and tiny chunks lifted off the floor, reformed, then slapped against the wall. A broken beam was made whole again. Cracked tiles healed themselves. The light fixture was once again in one piece and shining over the island.

"If you'll tell me where she is, I'll go get her." Tony's voice was hesitant.

"I can go," Charles offered.

"I'll go, I'm her father," Griffin sighed. He'd been stalling by putting the kitchen back together. "Bear in mind, I will not intervene on your behalf." He looked at both Merrill and Wlodek. "Not this time. I did after she tried to kill herself, but those days are over. You have two weeks before your Annual Meeting. I suggest you try to smooth things out as well as you can between now and then." Griffin disappeared.

"What is he talking about?" Gavin growled.

"Griffin did something—healed something or planted a suggestion that you and I weren't her enemy or some such," Merrill raked a hand through his black hair and glanced at his kitchen—put together perfectly by Griffin's power. "She'd have tried to kill herself a second time, I think, if he hadn't done it."

"She loves you, Gavin, or you wouldn't have been able to hold onto her this long," Charles spoke up. "Although all this might have been handled with a bit more finesse and tact. Honored One, we only deal with males on assignments. You've never had a female to send out—not really. I've read Sarita's files. She chose her own targets and went after them. She accepted information from you but you didn't control her. Not like this." Charles blinked at Wlodek, surprised at his own outburst.

Wlodek glanced at Merrill before turning back to Charles. "Young Charles, I had not realized you'd gone through all the files. You are correct, but Sarita is not a subject to bring up with me."

"Of course not, Honored One." Charles hung his head in embarrassment.

"Sarita was never as gifted as Lissa." Gavin spoke again. "Are we still planning to make the announcement at the Annual Meeting, though Xenides is still out there?"

"I believe so. He must realize that he is going against a Queen. We have crippled him now, as he is turning to the Elemaiya for help with this instead of depending solely on vampires. We are backing him into a corner. The idea that she is still susceptible to compulsion has outlived its usefulness. We will send the message that she is strong—very strong—and willfully hunting him and any minions that remain." Wlodek nodded at Charles. "Come, Charles. We have work to do."

Gavin watched as Wlodek strode toward the doorway inside the pantry. Charles closed it behind him as they made their way down the stairs. "Lissa will be angry if she comes back at all." Gavin muttered.

"She'll come back—Franklin is still here," Tony observed. "I don't think she'll abandon him, even if she wants to leave the rest of us behind."

Rain dripped off dead leaves as I huddled against the oak's trunk, the icy drops falling down past my collar and making me shiver as I sat there. The sobs had quieted to hiccups now. My emotions had run from anger to sorrow to depression and back to anger. How could they do this? How? Were they so devoid of love or any other emotion that they didn't recognize it in other people? I failed to understand any of this. Right then, I think I hated all of them.

"Hate is a strong word." Griffin stood beneath my tree. "I know you don't truly hate Gavin. Or Tony. I can't say for sure about Merrill and Wlodek. Poor Charles has no choice but to obey—he is too young."

"They knew what would happen." My voice was sullen and angry.

"They knew—in a way. Their mistake was in thinking they might make it up to you afterward. That you are a child that can be placated with promises or the lure of possessions. You haven't believed in promises for a very long time, have you, little girl? As for possessions, those mean very little to you. They should have realized this by now." Griffin had his face turned up to me. I wiped tears off my cheeks with my right hand while holding onto the trunk of the oak tree with my left. Why did I think I even needed that security? I could turn to mist if I fell. It comforted me, somehow, to have an arm wrapped around something solid.

"Lissa," Griffin went on, "you'll want to be at the Annual Meeting. Xenides is still out there and you must cooperate as much as you can with Wlodek and the others until he is eliminated. That seems to be your quest. After that, perhaps your decisions will be your own. I know that you will certainly have more leverage if you can take him down. Come back with me now, Lissa. You don't have to talk to any of the others if that is what you want. Find a dress, hold your head up and go to the Annual Meeting. Find out where Xenides is and dispense justice. That is the only way to bring any semblance of peace to the vampire race on Earth. Come back with me, little girl. Franklin needs you."

His last statement was what got me out of the tree. I think I sobbed as I dropped out of it, too. Franklin. He'd lost his mate. Not just a close friend—a mate. How much pain had he suffered? Merrill and Wlodek had more than likely stopped him from communicating with me and that made me even angrier. He'd gone through this with support from Merrill only. Merrill was definitely on my shit list.

"I can get myself home." I didn't allow Griffin to touch my arm. I was still out of sorts with him—he'd manipulated my birth, after all. I was the answer, he'd said, to so many problems. Well, that didn't make me feel special. Not one little bitty bit.

"Very well," Griffin sighed and disappeared.

"Don't bother trying to talk your way out of this," I flung out an arm at Gavin. Merrill was close behind him when I'd appeared in the kitchen after misting home. "Where's Franklin?" I asked, heading toward his suite.

"Sleeping," Merrill replied softly. "He'll wake in four hours."

"Good. I'll see him then. In the meantime, leave me the fuck alone." I walked away from all of them.

"Father, we can't get through to her. None of us can." Charles placed a glass of wine in front of Flavio and sat beside him at the kitchen island.

"Child, this is not your fault," Flavio sipped his wine. "I was angry with father because he withheld the information that she was a Queen. He still has not informed the rest of the Council. They may be angry as well, although my sire believes his reasoning to be sound."

"The Council will never admit they're angry," Charles looked away.

"Of course not. It is the way we are taught—to be friends and enemies during our lengthy lives."

"I think Lissa has a right to be angry over this. She wanted to say goodbye." Charles still refused to look at his vampire sire.

"Child, while I agree with you on this, things of that nature are a luxury that we as vampires do not receive. I wish it could have been otherwise. We will need her in the coming days and we do not desire her enmity."

"Frank?" I had a milkshake ready when he woke. Franklin raised a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes and sighing.

"Lissa?" Franklin blinked at me. There was such sadness in his eyes I almost started crying again.

"Frankie, I brought you a milkshake; it's strawberry—your favorite," I said. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful."

"I know, honey. I am so sorry." Franklin reached out to take my hand and surprised me by kissing it. I helped him sit up in bed before handing the shake over.

"He never woke after the first week," Franklin sighed and sipped his shake.

"Frankie, that's awful," I reached out and smoothed his hair back.

"Lissa, you're one of the few people who understands what that's like," Franklin ran a finger down the glass, wiping away a bit of condensation. "I know your husband was in a coma and on life support for a long time."

"Yeah. I know what that's like," I said, smoothing out Franklin's blanket. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. Or for Greg."

"Lissa, don't apologize, I know exactly why you weren't there. You would have been, if you'd known."

"Yeah."

"Try not to be too angry with Merrill, okay? He loves me."

"I know he does. That's why I destroyed the kitchen instead of him."

"Is my kitchen still destroyed?"

"No. I think Griffin put it back together."

"You won't call him father, will you?"

"So far he hasn't done much in the father department."

"Come here, Lissa, and lie down with me." Franklin set his glass down on the nightstand and scooted over. I lay down beside him and snuggled against his side. "This is good," he sighed over the top of my head and closed his eyes.

"This one," Charles said. Charles and Flavio had come to Paris with me. Franklin wasn't up to it. Frank wasn't up to much of anything, nowadays. I cooked for him as often as not, or he might not have eaten anything. Depression is an ugly word and one I understood all too well. I looked at the gown shown to us.