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“Donja is part of you, Larkspur, you’re both of the Durent Clan. You have lost sisters, cousins, the death toll is staggering.”
She tried to look away, but he grasped her chin and turned her back, face to face. “Have you forgotten your lineage?”
“Stop!”
“Do you have no heart?” he scowled.
“Yes!” she snapped bitterly. “I have a heart and I love my people almost as much as I hate you and yours for what you’ve done to us, but he’s my son.” Her hostility faded, washed by obvious pain. “My only son,” she whispered, moist eyes searching for answers. “What do you expect of me?”
“Compassion,” Torin said, releasing her arms, “not only for Donja and my unborn child, or the mothers and sisters of your clan who live in fear of birthing a female child,” he paused dragging a breath, “but for the families of the dead Chippewa females who now rot in Soo soil. Help us, please,” he whispered searching her face. “You know damn well that Anstosa made me promise with her dying breaths to fight this.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
Torin brushed her cheek, his finger glistening with her tears, the same tears he had wiped from Anstosa’s face so many times. He shuddered. “Help us fight this evil, Larkspur, if not for me, for your sister and I swear, though Garret is as good as dead, I will do all in my power to save your son.”
Larkspur tucked her hair behind her ears, her moist eyes sparkling. “Can you swear to me, as well as the Sky Gods of the Ojibwe…right now, on your child’s life, that you will help me save mine?”
Torin swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Yes.”
Blood Reunion
As thousands of Russians, Germans, Swedes and even England’s finest descended upon the Michigan Soo, the house and grounds around Hampton Manor swelled to capacity. Tongues wagged, Old World Iridescents boasted and Siruns from the German Legion, the French and New World Council with Affiliates in tow, prepared for battle.
Anna and Larkspur, guarded by Val and six hulking figures took a stroll on the river path outside Hampton Manor.
“Does it feel good to be back on native ground?” Larkspur asked.
Anna took a moment with a thousand no’s echoing her mind. “I can’t really say,” she replied. “I’ve been so worried about Donja that I’m numb.”
“Well it’s wonderful to meet a Durent relative.” Larkspur smiled. “I actually thought they were all dead.”
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Anna said, “but I must say, it seems rather strange to walk beside a member of my clan who was born hundreds of years ago. Tell me, were you taken at a young age?”
“Yes,” Larkspur said, “I was ripped from my mother’s arms at eleven, pregnant at twelve.”
“That’s why I ran,” Anna mumbled, “you must have been terrified.”
“Well to be honest, I was more afraid of being a mother at twelve than I was of Garret feeding on me like rabid dog.”
“You’ve been with him…Garret, a long time,” Anna said, “and quite frankly, I’m shocked that you’re willing to help us.”
“It’s the right thing to do and to be honest my only concern is my son.”
“I can understand that,” Anna whispered.
“Actually. I wanted to go back to the Yukon and try to sneak Donja out, but Torin said it was too dangerous and he’s right. Garret would catch Torin’s scent and believe me, he would kill me.”
“Torin’s scent, I don’t understand.”
“Torin fed on me at the airport.” Larkspur said.
“Why?”
“He was starving. Now, the numbing toxins from his fangs reside within me. It will be months before they fade, too late for the Red Queen, I’m afraid.”
“It doesn’t matter, I’ll take her place. I’m the Red Queen,” Anna said.
“It might not be that easy,” Larkspur said. “Scarface has an intense, unbridled lust for Donja. Since the day he laid eyes on her, he’s been lost. He may decide that he can have you as his consort, Donja as his Participant.”