[Makebelieve] Fic: Brothers Of the Blood 28 (please review)

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Previous chapters:
http://www.squidge.org/peja/cgi-bin/viewstory.php?sid=37198&warning=FRM

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

Dalton's sapphire eyes, burning bright with fever, suddenly snapped open. "I
came for you, Adric," he whispered, freezing Adric and Paris where they
stood by the door.

"Yes," Adric said softly. "I know."

Dalton lowered his eyes. "I've murdered so many. So many."

Adric moved swiftly back to the bed and laid a gentle hand on Dalton's arm.
"Your killings were clean, my friend."

"Talk. Talk. Talk is all you ever do," Dalton chanted in a childish
sing-song voice. "Damn idealist. Going to get us all killed before it's all
said and done."

"I sure hope not," Paris breathed.

Dalton snickered, his eyes darting between the two of them. "I don't believe
in ghosts. Why don't you go away? Vanish and leave me in peace." He closed
his eyes. "I don't believe in you."

"He thinks we're dead," Paris shuddered. "Adric, he thinks we're dead."

"I heard."

"Of course you're dead." Dalton opened one glassy eye. "I killed you, didn't
I?" The second eye popped open and he stared at Paris coldly. "Tossed you
out an airlock. Stuffed you in and whoosh. All gone." He chuckled briefly
and then sighed. "All gone."

"Dalton, listen...." Adric began.

"And you." Dalton pointed a shaking hand at Adric. "I didn't want to kill
you, haurride, but you betrayed me. You left me without any choice. You
caused your death. Not me." He waved a dismissive hand. "Go haunt yourself."

"Dalton," Adric said firmly. "Focus on my voice. Do you hear me? Listen to
what I'm saying."

Dalton groaned, closing his eyes. "Why must I watch all I care for die?"

Adric shook his head. "It's no use. He's not getting what we're saying."

Paris patted Dalton's arm. "Rest, Dal," he whispered, then tugged Adric
aside. "Adric, this is not the man I know. This man, I don't begin to
recognize."

"No, I don't suppose you would," Adric said. "But Yessenia recognized this
part of him. She even went so far as to give it a name."

"I think my brain must be furring up."

"We're seeing his human side," Adric said softly, as if voicing his thoughts
aloud might be sacrilegious. "But don't feel bad. I don't think even he'd
recognize that side of himself. It's buried too deep."

"Well, let's hope it gets buried again. Soon. I don't like it. Not one
little bit."

Adric glanced over his shoulder at the restless man. "Yeah, I know what you
mean. Let's get out of here. Unless I miss my guess, Dalton won't be
thrilled if he remembers we witnessed this."

"Adric," Dalton snapped, his voice firm. He leaned up on his elbows, staring
coldly at them through eyes that said Dalton was back.

"Yeah?"

"Be careful. You're in danger. Grave danger, haurride."

The sudden burst of strength that had allowed him to give his warning
flooded out of him and he slumped back down on the bed into a deep, troubled
sleep.

* * * * * * * *

Dalton hunkered down beside the well-tended grave with his free hand resting
on the weathered headstone. "I brought you something, Grandmere," he said
softly as his eyes traced the delicate sprig of white jasmine cradled in his
right hand.

On impulse, he brushed the fragile blossoms over his lips and inhaled the
tart fragrance that had been, for her, a bittersweet reminder of the home
world she had fled so many years ago.

The heady, floral aroma swept through him, carrying strictly forbidden
memories of the maternal love only she had given him.

"Always alert, aren't you?" a sarcastic voice said behind him.

Stung back into the barren reality of his life, he dropped the blossoms as
if they'd burned his fingers. His lean features grew remote as he watched
the flowers drift to rest on the gently mounded earth.

Sneering, Cheska kicked at the fragile blossoms. "How very touching. You're
still bringing flowers for the old woman." Her dainty slipper ground the
blossoms into a honeyed powder. "But what's this? What tribute have you
brought for your father?"

His hot glare clashed with her calculating gaze, before he suppressed the
dangerous emotions and gifted her with a chilled smile. "Father? I never had
a father. What I had was a man who sired me and a woman whose body served as
an incubator. Nothing more."

"Yet you show sentiment for the old woman? You give her respect."

Dalton's razor sharp stare cut through her. "Grandmother deserves my
respect. She allowed me some remnant of humanity. Unlike you."

"She disregarded your training. Made you soft."

"Am I soft, then, Cheska?"

"As cotton. If it had been possible, once that interfering woman had passed,
I would have attempted to create a second son."

"And me? What would you have done with me?"

She shrugged. "You were born for one purpose."

"So, you would have killed me if it had been possible to recreate another
untarnished child?"

"I believe this old woman may have seriously endangered your ability to do
what you must."

He shoved to his feet, towering head and shoulders above her. "Say the
words, Cheska. You would have had me killed if you could have had another
son by my father."

"Yes, I would have terminated you with my own hands."

A sardonic smile touched his lips. "Then, it is a great pity my father's
precious cells and sperm were lost to you, isn't it?" He turned on his heel
and strode off toward the house.

Cheska ran after him and grabbed his arm, forcing him to acknowledge her. "I
would speak with you."

Scowling, Dalton stared down his aristocratic nose at her. "What could you
say that would interest me?"

Her sudden overly bright smile mocked him and he tensed under her grasping
fingers, bracing for her verbal assault. "Your transport," she said, waving
a limp hand toward the shuttle in front of the geodesic dome that had been
his home for most of his life. "It has arrived. You leave for Earth within
the hour."

"Earth? I'm going to Earth today? You couldn't have informed me of this
before? Given me some time to arrange my affairs?" he demanded, somehow
managing to keep his voice steady while hot blood pounded in his ears.

She waved his concern aside. "Your personal affairs are unimportant.
I simply want your assurance."

"My assurance?"

"You understand what is required? You are prepared to get close to our
enemies?"

Grimacing, he shook off her clinging fingers. "I am."

"And you will do as instructed?"

"It's the reason I was conceived, is it not?" His long fingers raked through
black shoulder-length hair. "Yes, I understand what you require."

"But you don't like it. You'd sooner find your own path."

Yes, if it were possible, he would ignore her insane demands. He would
escape his evil birthright and make a place of peace for himself.
Unfortunately, his family had too many enemies with long reaching power. He
shrugged. "I do what I must to survive."

Cheska smiled, nodding. "The post I've procured for you brings you close to
your targets. Luckily, both men were recently assigned to the same out-reach
office."

Dalton listened in silence while she gave him an up-dated rundown on the
unsuspecting men he was expected to exterminate, his granite gaze fixed on
the shuttle, giving away none of his tortured thoughts.

When she was finished, Cheska touched his cheek, drawing his startled eyes.
"Dalton, you must take care in their termination. No one must trace your
hand in the tragedy."

He snorted, watching her narrowly. "Do I detect concern in your voice,
Cheska? Are you worried about me? No. More likely you fear for yourself,
hm?"

Her face went blank. "You're my only son. I don't want you dead."

"Don't you?" His lips curled mockingly. "Then what, pray, do you want for
me, Cheska? Do you anticipate a happy reunion after I've been properly
blooded? Shall I bathe in my victims' blood to prove myself? Is that what
you require?"

"I demand the execution of your father's murders. Only that. If it's in your
mind to bathe in their blood, then I commend your enthusiasm." Her
expression turned skeptical. "But it is hardly what I expected from you."

"Perhaps you don't give me enough credit," he sighed, turning to walk away.

Cheska doggedly fell into step with him. "You'll return here immediately
it's finished."

"No."

"No?"

"I won't be coming back."

"But of course you will. Together we will build you a future of..."

His gaze, like hard spun crystal, lashed her. "I have no future. Have you no
concept of what I'm doing? I forfeit my life once I've done what you
demand."

"Nonsense," she scoffed. "You are a St Moritz. Your family has personified
the rebellion from the first strike. The rebels who pledged themselves to
your ancestors are prepared to follow you.
With the commissioners out of our way, we need only take the government
stronghold to bring you to power on this planet, just as your father would
have done."

"No." Cruel fingers bit into her arms and his brittle hate-filled glare
drilled through her, making her tremble. "I don't want government power. Do
you understand? I'm not my father. I don't exist to follow his path. No, I
don't. I don't breathe revenge with every breath. Do you hear me?" He flung
her aside, dispassionately watching her collapse into a heap in the dirt. "I
will not return. Do you understand me?"

She reached a trembling hand toward him, tears glistening in her faded blue
eyes. "Then, what will happen to me?"

"You?" Vile contempt darkened his pale face. "Oh, you'll survive. If for no
other reason than to spite me. You'll live so you can continue to haunt my
every waking moment no matter where I go. Of that I have no doubt."

"I'm your mother," she wailed, struggling to her feet.

"Yes," he said, turning on his heel. "More's the pity."

Cheska caught at his arm. "You'll kill them, Dalton? You promised. You'll do
it?"

Dalton paused, staring at the shuttle waiting in the yard. He could refuse.
He could climb in that craft and never look back, but his family's enemies
would never allow him to live in peace. As long as they lived he would
forever be looking over his shoulder, afraid of the shadows that raced after
him?

"Mother, have you ever, for one fleeting moment, not regretted my
existence?" he whispered, needing to hear her answer. Knowing it would set
him free. "Was there ever a time when you delighted in my birth?"

Confusion flooded her worn features. "You are your father's son. I adored
him. Isn't that enough?"

"I will do what you ask, but then it's over. I expect never to see or hear
from you once it's finished. That's the payment I demand." He disengaged her
clutching fingers and shoved her away. "I acknowledge no family from this
day."

Giving her his back, he strode toward the waiting craft, taking nothing of
the past with him.

Her words had sealed his destiny.

* * * * *

The fever broke in a rush, drenching his body with a heavy sheen of sweat,
releasing him from the misery of the dreams.

And the healing began.

END PART 28


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