Lucidia
She’d split from the freeway, halfway back to House Xander. Maxine’s warning had burst open a hornet’s nest of complications for Lucidia.
Potentially damning complications.
There were laws that strongbloods were compelled to follow; laws and consequences if those laws weren’t followed. If a law is broken, another strongblood is assigned to hunt down the offender and bring them to justice. It was a brutal system, but then, slavery always was - they don’t call it benevolent tyranny.
Twenty-five years ago, Darian had been in a cheeky mood when he’d discovered that Lucidia’s father had muddled the blood line with a mortal. In line with his cruel humor, he’d picked Lucidia to do the job of acquisition and arraignment. She’d been charged to drag her own father back and slay the baby in front of the House leaders.
There was no choice but to comply.
She’d set out, showing no emotion, as was her custom. Truly, anger was the only thing she’d felt. Anger that her father could have been so stupid, so weak minded as to have broken one of the most important laws maintained by the vampires: obedience.
She’d been angry when she’d tracked her father down, because it had been so easy to find him. She remembered Kenzo Draxos to be the smartest, most honorable, most feared strongblood in the world, as all children believe about their parents. The day she’d realized – truly realized – how far he’d fallen was the day her world became a shade more hopeless.
And she’d felt anger when she tore into the dilapidated shack where he’d holed up, when she looked into the bassinet and saw that beautiful, perfect bundle of wispy cotton hair and bright blue eyes.
Soft. Happy. Innocent.
All the things they weren’t allowed to be.
And she was enraged when her father had begged Lucidia to protect the child. When he’d showed no fear for his own fate, nor Lucidia’s. The task that he’d asked of her would land her in prison. Darian’s prison, which should have been a ring of hell all on its own. If anybody found out she’d disobeyed the direct order of her master, she’d be destroyed. There weren’t many rungs lower than ‘slave’ on their societal ladder, after all.
But as she’d looked into her sister’s eyes, her anger had given way to love; some deep connection that felt entirely foreign to her. Lucidia realized how her father had fallen so far – he would do anything for this child, and so would she.
So she’d promised her father that she’d protect Robin at all costs. And she’d followed through.
They’d slain a stranger that day, an orphaned baby that wouldn’t have been missed by any and was probably better off for it. She’d felt no emotion handing the child to Darian. Draining was an easy death for a baby, and certainly more humane than any alternative.
But now, after all these years, her skeletons had come out to play.
What does Magnus want with her? How does he even know she exists? she thought angrily.
Nobody else had even known about Robin, and certainly, nobody knew that she was still alive.
But if Reykon brought her to House Demonte, word would surely make it back to Darian that Kenzo’s muddled daughter had been prized off to Magnus. And that would put Lucidia in a very dangerous position.
It wasn’t just fear for Robin’s safety (which both irritated and perplexed Lucidia), but it was also fear for her own fate.
She looked around. The side road she’d angrily turned down was deserted, storm clouds painting the plains of Oklahoma in an orange-gray haze. She couldn’t go pell mell across the country to intercept him. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t be able to find Reykon – she was certain tracking them was within her wheelhouse – but rather that she had to report back to Darian for completion and reassignment, at House Xander in Pennsylvania. By the time she arrived there, Robin would already be too close to House Demonte, in Louisiana. And she couldn’t just take off without Darian’s approval. He would send an army of strongbloods if his beloved executioner went M.I.A. for some reason.
She needed help. She needed to stall Reykon, to throw a wrench in the works.
There was a way to do that, but she didn’t want to face it. Lucidia slammed her foot into a rock, sending it through the air with an angry grunt, the thought of her next action repulsive.
Robin
Circumstances didn’t improve.
They’d been driving for hours, through Oregon and into Idaho. Her desperation and fear had mounted, and then faded, as she realized that this was a battle that needed to be fought with brains and not force. Whoever this guy was, he had experience in human trafficking and wasn’t going to be shaken easily. It was a matter of biding her time until the right moment.
“This isn’t a very inconspicuous car to be kidnapping someone in,” she muttered, eyes fixed on monotonous cornfields.
“If you act like a kidnapper, you get caught. Nobody questions a Ferrari with a beautiful woman in it.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Where are you taking me?”
“Louisiana.”
“What’s in Louisiana?”
“Somebody that’s very interested in you.”
She glanced to Reykon. He’d undone the top two buttons of his black shirt. It reminded her of the encounter in her apartment, and gave her a deep-seated sense of discomfort, knowing how close they’d been to… well, how close they’d been. “What do they want with me?”
Reykon turned slightly and caught her gaze. Something crossed his face – remorse? Pity? No. Maybe it had been nothing. How could he feel bad for someone he was abducting? He opened his mouth and spoke with carefully chosen words. “It has to
