“It’s the only way to treat this. Once this cure is known—”
“You know why I want no more,” she scoffed. “Why do you bother asking this of me?”
Lucien paused. He needed to speak carefully. “Emaye, I know after Desta’s death—”
“You know nothing!” Saba screamed. “Nothing. You have no child. You want none.” Fat tears rolled down Saba’s cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away because she had no shame in her grief. The world had bled for it, and Lucien knew it hung on the brink of bleeding again.
Even after a thousand years, the pain of his sister’s loss was a raw wound. Many of Lucien’s siblings had found peace and walked into the dawn. Many had been lost in battle. Some had given in to despair. Each loss was a wound on his mother’s soul.
But nothing had been like Desta.
“I will have no more children,” Saba said. “This world will be cleansed, my son. We will start again.”
“No.” He grabbed her hand. “Emaye, listen to me. We can’t do this.”
“You need not have a part in it,” she said. “Arosh, Ziri, and I—”
“So Kato has already objected?” He jumped on the omission as he saw Hirut sneak away. “Kato wants no part in this?”
“He is still recovering,” she said, her eyes burning. “And I don’t need his support. I have made my allies. Those who have seen this sickness that spreads across oceans. It touched my own blood.” Saba put a hand on Lucien’s cheek. “What they did to you… I cannot forgive this.”
“Then don’t forgive it,” he said. “But don’t destroy it either. I am asking this of you. As your child. Too many will die. Too many will lose faith in our world. And the cost of human lives… Saba, you know there is a better way.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What do you want of me? You’re not only asking for my blood.”
Lucien took a steadying breath.
“I want you and Kato to overthrow the council of Athens.”
❖
Lucien couldn’t read Kato’s expression, and he really wanted to. It was, after all, Kato’s own council Lucien wanted overthrown. Kato had started the council to transition his territory into a more “democratic” government when he decided to step down. It was the oldest council in the Mediterranean and Europe. The most venerated and, at one time, the most powerful.
But those days were long gone. Or so they had thought.
Lucien, Makeda, Saba, and Kato had gathered around a cooking fire. Makeda sat at Lucien’s side, adding wood to the fire when it was necessary.
“Livia may have been the original producer of the Elixir,” Lucien began, “but soon after she was killed, Laskaris—and possibly the other members of the Athenian council—stepped up. I don’t know if the Elixir was his ambition or the council’s, but Laskaris sees it as a way of dominating the immortal world and regaining Greek power.”
“Zara gave him the idea,” Saba said.
“But Laskaris ran with it,” Kato added. “And from what we have discovered, he shows no signs of stopping.”
Lucien eyed his mother and Kato, knowing he didn’t have the whole story but not wanting to press too quickly when his mother was only reluctantly listening.
“Zara is no longer an obstacle,” Saba told them. “I am assured of this.”
Lucien had questions about how Zara had been taken out of the equation, but it wasn’t relevant to the present discussion. If Saba said Zara was no longer a problem, she was gone.
“The Elixir triggers this retrovirus,” Makeda said. “It’s something we all have in our systems, but it’s dormant until it encounters Elixir-tainted blood. Saba is probably the only being on the planet who is immune to it.”
“It must have been a common virus at one time,” Saba said, “but there have been so many. How could I remember?”
Lucien said, “Unless there is someone older than you, you’re likely the only one who has the correct antibodies.”
“I probably am, but there is no way of knowing,” Saba said.
“And it doesn’t really matter,” Makeda said. “As long as the vampire world believes you are the oldest, you are the sole vampire capable of healing them.”
Lucien leaned forward. “Saba, if these trials work, you will hold the fate of any infected vampire in the palm of your hand. You will be the only cure for them, and any vampire who comes to you for a cure will owe you their allegiance. Not only by vow—because we both know vows can be broken—but by blood.”
Kato spoke, his voice quiet. “Where does the council of Athens come in?”
“It has to fall.” He let the silence hang over the campfire, but no one spoke. “Athens is your seat, Theio. You have every right to take it back if Laskaris is corrupt.”
“I gave up my empire,” Kato said. “So did your mother.”
Lucien knew he needed to tread carefully. “When my sister was taken from you, Saba, you took the crown from her murderer, though you had not ruled in a thousand years. You wiped out his line, and his corruption ceased to be. Then you ruled for years before you allowed another king to rise to power. You put him in place and stepped back into the shadows.”
Saba didn’t grow angry. She was silent. Considering.
Kato said, “So what do you propose? Your mother and I oust the existing council and take over?”
“That’s exactly what I’m proposing. Not only you but Ziri and Arosh as well. The four most ancient vampires in the West. When you take Athens, you could wipe out production of Elixir. No one will question your right to rule.”
“Who is to say another will not start producing it again?” Saba asked.
Makeda said, “Spread the word that any vampire infected must come to you to be healed.”
Lucien said, “Your cure would have a twofold result. If the trials are successful—”
“And that’s still an if,” Makeda said.
“—the treatment spares those who come to you and makes them blood-loyal to your aegis,” Lucien said. “It also eliminates the effectiveness of Elixir as a poison and a political tool.”
Kato nodded. “Who would knowingly spread Elixir when it would mean Saba, most ancient of our kind, would become even more powerful? Every infection of Elixir would only push more immortals to you.”
Lucien gripped Makeda’s hand and prayed his words had swayed his mother. He knew Kato was already on his side, though the giant man was obviously reluctant to step into power again. Lucien knew Kato would do it because it was right. He’d do it to save the world from the destruction Saba was capable of wreaking.
Kato spoke softly. “Just think of it, my queen. You would have an army Zhang could only dream of. His golden horde would be a pale shadow of the army you could amass.”
Saba stood and looked at all of them. Lucien felt her gaze resting on Makeda the longest.
“I will take my friend’s council and think on this,” she said. Then she left them and disappeared into the night.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“I want you with me,” he said.
“I can’t. You know I can’t, Lucien.” She didn’t look up from her notebook. She was double-checking notes for Dr. McTierney. If Lucien’s plan went into action, the necessity of a successful trial became even more pressing. All they were waiting on at this point was a decision from Saba. “It’s too soon for me to leave the island.”
“You can.” The vampire was persistent. “Your control is far more impressive than other immortals of your age. Far more impressive than my own was. You’ve had very few slips. We’ll be traveling with Kato and Saba—”
“And negotiating alliances that could change the balance of power in the Western world.” She finally looked up. “Working with both vampires and humans I’d have no way of avoiding. You don’t need to be babysitting me while you’re worrying about that.”
He propped his chin on his hand and didn’t look away. “If I leave you here, what will you do all night?”
Makeda’s mouth opened, but
nothing came out for a long time. “I’ll monitor the trials with Dr. McTierney. You know how controlling I am about this.”
“We’re going to know in a matter of weeks if they’re successful, Makeda. With the way our cells regenerate, we’ll know yes or no very quickly.”
“You don’t know that. And if good news comes through that quickly, I’ll… I’ll read a book,” she said. “Drink some wine. Cook with Hirut. Maybe she can teach me some new recipes. I’ll live my life, Lucien. Whatever that’s become now.”
His eyes bored into her. “I don’t like leaving you.”
She put down her pencil. “Is it because you’ll miss me? Or because you’re afraid I’ll hurt myself?”
The look on his face told her it was the second option, even though she was hoping for the first.
“There is nothing I can say that will be enough reassurance to you if you don’t trust me.” She picked up her pencil.
“If you ended your life, I would feel it,” he said quietly. “It would hurt.”
She clenched her fingers around the pencil. Makeda was matter-of-fact about her feelings. She had been deeply depressed and isolated on the island. She’d chosen to make the difficult decision to stay alive and try to make sense of this new life even though her work was finished. She tried to think night to night. If she thought even five years down the line, she began to panic.
“You’ve had my blood now,” he continued. “If you did anything to harm yourself, it would rip me in two. And I’m not talking about the physical pain, though that would be substantial.”
“Lucien—”
“I need you to be aware of the power you have over me right now, Makeda. I’m being completely honest because you seem to constantly expect me to lie.”
“I don’t constantly expect you to lie.”
“Yes, you do. You question everything I tell you.”
“That’s not distrust,” she bit out. “It’s arrogance. I don’t trust anyone’s reasoning as much as my own.”
A slow smile grew on his face. He reached over and twisted a curl around his finger. He was completely obsessed with her hair. It might have bothered her once, but as her hair was in a constant state of tangle because of her water practice, there was nothing much he could do to make it worse. She was considering a very short clip like Saba wore, but the look she imagined on her mother’s face was enough to stay her hand.
“If I recall correctly,” she said, “you find my arrogance attractive. So chew on that, Dr. Thrax.”
“I’d rather chew on you. Come with me.”
“You’re going to be too busy. Don’t you have a world to save?”
“Hang the world!” He tugged her closer and kissed her hard. “You think I care about saving the world more than you?”
“You should. Statistically speaking—”
He took her lips again. This time he didn’t let her go. He twisted his stool and curled his legs around her, dragging her between his thighs as he delved into her mouth. He tasted like Lucien. Coffee and black licorice from the candies he liked to nibble on at his desk. She sank into his mouth, let his arms circle her. She filed every touch and taste and smell away for their inevitable separation.
The thought of Lucien leaving the island—possibly for months—hit her hard, but she wasn’t his mate. She didn’t know what she was, other than the woman he had sex with who bit him. He cared for her—Makeda had no doubt—but she still distrusted her own feelings. Everything in her life had changed. The joy and contentment in his embrace felt like a gift that could be snatched away in a heartbeat. Makeda wanted to depend on it, but she also wanted to be cautious.
Angry kisses turned soft and coaxing. “Hang the world. Come with me,” he whispered. “To bed. Right now. Let me convince you, yene konjo.”
She shook her head to clear it. “Lucien, I need to finish this.”
“You’ve reviewed it a dozen times.” Soft kisses rained over the arch of her cheekbone. “Come with me. I want to show you something new.”
One week with Lucien had been the sexual education of a lifetime. Makeda’s head swam at his touch. He knew exactly how to tempt her. Her relentless curiosity had proven the perfect match to his insatiable hunger. Just the promise of some new pleasure had her weakening.
That was until Saba strode into the laboratory.
Lucien groaned and buried his face in Makeda’s shoulder. “Mother—”
“This procedure you’re suggesting. Will it weaken me?”
Lucien didn’t let Makeda go, but his head popped up and he turned toward his sire. “What?”
“You know of what I speak. These sick vampires, will siring them weaken me?”
Normally, any offspring a vampire sired would siphon off some of their power. At least temporarily. Not that Saba didn’t have a reservoir of power to spare. For her, it would hardly be noticeable. But that wasn’t the only consideration.
A sire’s power was transferred to their new offspring. Old vampires equaled very powerful newborns. In Saba’s case, even siphoning off a tiny part would equal an abnormally powerful new immortal. But marrow treatment wasn’t anything like a true sire bond.
“I do not know for certain,” Lucien said, “but I don’t believe it will weaken you or create powerful new children. You are not truly giving them your blood. You’re giving them your bone marrow or stem cells. My gut instinct is that it won’t be the same, but we’ll have to test it to find out.”
Lucien didn’t breathe as he waited for her to deliberate. Neither did Makeda.
“I’ll do it,” Saba said.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Saba nodded toward Makeda. “She can take the blood from me, or whatever it is you need. Right now you go to Kato. And leave the healer in the laboratory, because we need the soldier if we’re going to do this.”
“Saba, you could do this in your sleep,” Lucien said. “You once ruled a continent.”
“I ruled a continent thousands of years ago,” she said. “I have no love for this modern world and not enough familiarity with it. You may not like politics, son, but you’re well-acquainted with that aspect. You will join Kato and me. You will help us plan and execute this campaign.” She looked at Makeda. “And you will come with us. His attention will be divided if you remain here.”
Damn bossy vampires. Makeda shook her head. “I’m not ready.”
“Child, you do not say no to me,” Saba said. “You will travel in my entourage. Recognize it for the honor that it is and be quiet.”
Lucien squeezed her hip, and Makeda bit her lip so she didn’t talk back. She was thirty-nine and unaccustomed to being spoken to like a child.
Of course, she also recognized that the woman who spoke to her was royalty in the most fundamental sense. She was also a more powerful predator who had offered Makeda protection and position.
She took a deep breath and prepared to send Brenden McTierney a very welcome e-mail. At least it would be welcome on his side.
Makeda Abel wouldn’t be monitoring her colleague’s every tiny move during the transplant trial.
Instead, she was going to war.
❖
“I told you,” Saba said, lying down on the crude examination table. “No anesthetic will work on me.”
Makeda shook her head. “There must be something—”
“There’s not.” She unwrapped the skirt around her waist. “I can handle the pain.”
“I don’t think you understand just how much pain a posterior iliac crest bone marrow retrieval is going to produce.”
Saba said nothing. She stared at Makeda, her dark eyes revealing nothing.
Makeda shrugged. “If you don’t want anything to dull the pain, then I guess we’ll do it your way.” And I’ll try not to pass out in sympathy.
“I’m more concerned that you won’t be capable of following through on this. Do not worry about me. I have endured pain you cannot imagine.”
Makeda said nothing more. She
went to the corner and started to wash, mentally cataloguing every step she’d need to take in order to make this marrow retrieval work in less than ideal conditions. Lucien had laid out the tray and prepped the storage chest where Makeda would put the retrieved marrow. Transport was already arranged. Saba’s marrow and her blood would be in Ireland within two days.
“You don’t like me.” Saba lay on her side, her hip exposed. “That is fine. In fact, I like that you don’t like me. Too many immortals are awed by my power, and that is not good for Lucien.”
Makeda paused for a moment, then continued to wash and put on gloves. Was it nearly impossible for Saba to get any kind of infection from a biopsy needle? Yes. That didn’t erase years of training.
“Your power is unlike anything I’ve ever known,” Makeda said. “But no. I’m not awed by you or anyone else. I study the human body. We’re all the same inside. The most powerful human in the world can be brought to their knees by the tiniest virus.”
“An infection conquered Alexander when no king could,” Saba said. “You’re wise for a human.”
“And even vampires, who are stronger, faster, and smarter than humans, can’t survive in the sun. Or without blood. Or away from their element. You have weaknesses too.”
“You’d survive in the Sahara,” Saba said. “You just wouldn’t be as powerful. But you’d survive, Makeda.” She looked over her shoulder. “We survive. Do you understand?”
Makeda paused, the biopsy needle in her hand. “Are you insisting I come participate in this war because you’re worried I’ll kill myself?”
“Yes. You’re the kind who could reason her way into believing your purpose on earth is finished. A year ago, that would have been none of my business, but now my son loves you.”
Saba’s calm assertion hit her like a punch to the stomach, but Makeda didn’t flinch. “We’re still learning each other.”
“You will be learning each other for eternity, if you are lucky, for none of us are relics to be studied. We are constantly changing. You are his true mate. Do you think I can’t scent his blood in you?”