Bloodline. Maggie Shayne

“What would you like to know?”

      Serena frowned as her mind raced. “Something. Anything. Where we’re going. Who’s after us. Where my baby is. Even…your freaking name. Tell me something, for God’s sake.”

      The woman’s face softened. She was perhaps thirty, Serena thought. Brunette hair in a silky, minklike ponytail. Brown doe’s eyes beneath perfectly arched brows, and skin like a fresh peach, devoid of makeup.

      “Terry. My name’s Terry. I’m part of a…a secret society, I guess you’d call it. The Sisterhood of Athena. We…we watch, and almost never interfere. But when things go wrong, we step in to set them right again. Maureen was one of us.”

      “You…watch…?”

      “Yes.”

      “You watch…what?” Serena asked.

      Terry pressed her lips tight, as if deciding which words to allow passage. “Your baby was—is—special, Serena. She was born with a very rare antigen in her blood.”

      Serena remembered the file she had read. There had been something about an antigen. “Belladonna,” she said, trying out the word for the first time.

      “Yes. Belladonna. People who are born with the Belladonna antigen have…special qualities. It’s complicated, and it’s something you need to hear about, but later, when we have more time, and when we’re sure we’re safe. But for now, all you need to know is that babies and young children with the antigen have been disappearing at an alarming rate for the past five years. And in most cases, their parents have been killed.”

      Serena felt her eyes widen, her heart skip. “Murdered?”

      Terry nodded once. “Usually it looks like an accident. Car wrecks. Plane crashes. Carbon monoxide leaks. House fires. Deadly falls from dangerous cliffs. Drownings. But it’s happened too many times for it to be coincidence. So we’ve placed some of our members in various places—hospitals, doctor’s offices, child protective agencies—undercover, just to watch and wait. And when someone mentions the antigen, we try to get to the mother and the baby before it’s too late. Maureen wanted to get to you before they took your baby, but the best she could do was get to you before they arranged some accident that would take your life.”

      Serena watched Terry’s face while she spoke. The things the woman was saying didn’t make a lot of sense, but she believed them. Maureen had believed them. She’d died because of them. How could Serena doubt?

      “So where are you taking me?”

      Terry put her hand on Serena’s shoulder. “Someplace safe.”

      “Is it far? I mean, I can’t go far. I need to find my baby.”

      Terry lowered her eyes, and her voice softened by degrees. “If you choose to stay with us, we’ll help you search for your baby, Serena. We have more resources, more connections—a much better chance than you would ever have alone. But it would mean giving up everything you’ve known before. Joining the Sisterhood means being reborn. You’ll have a new family, a new life. Your past will be lost to you forever.”

      Serena pondered briefly before asking, “Have you found any of the other children who’ve been taken?”

      “No. Not yet. But we’re getting closer all the time.”

      “Oh.” A wave of disappointment nearly drowned her, but she managed to push it aside. “Then…I don’t know.”

      “You don’t have to make a decision now. You can spend a few days with us, learn a little bit more about what we do and why, and then you can decide. If you want to leave, you can. But the truth is, you’re not safe here. And we have to go. Now.”

      Serena nodded. “All right.”

      She followed Terry to the little blue car. Terry started the engine, thumbed a button to open the garage door and then backed out, looking both ways. As she drove, she checked the rearview mirror almost constantly.

      “Go ahead and eat,” Terry said at length. “You need your strength, and besides, it’ll settle your nerves.” She nodded at the Thermos and sandwich she had placed in the console between them. Their drinks were in the cup holders.

      Serena twisted open the Thermos and poured some of the steaming-hot chicken soup into the cup. Then she sipped, and it soothed her stomach, eased the tension in her spine and even the ache in her heart a little bit, so she sipped some more. When she finished the first cup, she filled it a second time and downed that, as well.

      And with every sip her anxiety eased a bit. She sank into her seat, let her head rest against the back as she swallowed the last of the soup and replaced the cup.

      Her eyes felt heavy. She let them fall closed, then opened them abruptly as a wave of gentle relaxation washed through her brain.

      Frowning, she looked toward Terry. “Was there…Did you put something in the soup?”

      “Yes. Nothing harmful. But we’re going to the Sisterhood’s headquarters, and it’s not permitted for outsiders to know where that is. No matter what. So you’re going to sleep now. You need to anyway, Serena. And when you wake, you’ll be in a beautiful, safe haven, surrounded by women who would give their lives for each other—and who would give their lives to help you find your baby, as well.”

      There couldn’t be any such place or any such people, Serena thought. No one could possibly care that much about someone they didn’t even know.

      Could they?

      She let her heavy lids fall closed and prayed that they could.

      5

      When Ethan left, I hurried to the front door to watch. Just to be sure he really was going and not playing some trick to catch me in the act. But he kept walking right along the meandering path and on to the stable.

      I let the heavy curtain fall and turned, sweeping the living room with my sharper-than-human gaze. He was lying to me. I didn’t know how I knew it, but I did. I wasn’t sure what he was lying about—but there was something.

      He was familiar to me somehow. Despite my amnesia, I was sure of it. It wasn’t a memory, it was a sense. A feeling.

      My senses were sharper than before. He’d told me as much. And there were new ones. I could speak without speaking, sense another’s essence, almost like a scent, without smelling. I could feel the approach of danger. I could tell whether another being was human—or a vampire, like me.

      With all that knowledge slowly making itself at home in my mind, how could I doubt this feeling of recognition when it came to him?

      Or worse, the feeling of longing that had plagued me from the moment I set eyes on him. The longing to be closer. To touch. To feel those hands on my body, those lips on…

      No. I wouldn’t let those thoughts linger. He was lying to me. There was something more to all of this than he was telling me. And if I had to search this entire place, I would find out what it was.

      I looked around the living room and whispered, “It’s always best to begin where you are.” I vaguely remembered someone saying that phrase often, and how wise I thought it was.

      A woman. A kind woman. A mortal.

      I got a flash of short butterscotch hair that curled inward, just below the ear, and blue, twinkling eyes. The life in those eyes had always seemed out of place amid all the dull-eyed others.

      What others?

      I didn’t know, but in my mind, I saw her lips move and heard her voice saying, “It’s always best to start where you are.”

      Callista.

      The name floated into my mind as if from nowhere. Her name was Callista, and she wasn’t like the others.

      And that was all. Though I fought to grab hold of the memory and wrestle more from it,