Blood Legacy: The Story of Ryan Part 27

Ryan turned her gaze upon Marilyn, and her expression was unreadable. The dispa.s.sionate expression irritated Marilyn, who allowed her eyes to drift to Ryan's lips, then to her throat. Her gaze lingered there, caressing the artery.

Ryan, as always, was aroused against her will. She carefully maintained her poise, however, and returned her gaze out the window. Marilyn smiled.

In some ways, the girl hadn't changed at all.

CHAPTER 31.

SUSAN STOOD AT RYAN'S SIDE IN THE ALCOVE. Edward stood at her other side. Jason had been removed from their presence at Susan's objection, but Edward had a.s.sured her the boy would not be harmed.

Susan looked over at Edward. His demeanor had changed dramatically. She had seen him as subservient before, but she now him as a warrior standing at the side of his King, ready for the battle for which he had prepared for centuries.

Ryan also looked composed, as if she had steeled herself for what was approaching. She had spent the last few hours isolated, aware of the Others' presence, but immune to it. She stood calmly in the shadows, as if awaiting some hidden command.

A figure slipped from the shadows and Susan saw that it was Marilyn. The dark-haired woman approached Ryan and Ryan did not at first acknowledge her presence, keeping her own counsel. She finally turned to Marilyn, nodding. Marilyn gestured for Ryan to lead the way.

Ryan stepped from the alcove into a great subterranean hall. The room was longer than it was wide and the ceilings were so high they could not be seen in the blackness. The walls were covered with huge tapestries stretching up into the darkness. The light from thousands of candles flickered across the faces of those leaning out of the balconies to glimpse the procedures below. Pews lined both sides of the central aisle, filled with hundreds of people. The hall was less a courtroom than an underground cathedral.

Ryan briefly paused at the entrance to the hall as all eyes turned towards her. Susan could feel the sudden tension, as if the room had drawn its collective breath. Electricity suddenly danced between every occupant of the room, and Susan realized she was the only human present.

Ryan began walking forward, allowing her eyes to briefly skim the great crowd of Others as if they were of no consequence to her. And indeed, they were not. She could feel their shock at her presence, feel them reach out to her and withdraw in terror. She could feel their desire intermixed with their terror, their longing intermixed with an ancient fear.

Ryan strolled leisurely down the aisle, coming to a stop at the table set before the judge's stand. She was not surprised to see the ident.i.ty of the One who would sit in judgment of her. She gazed at the matriarch standing on the dais before the great hall.

"h.e.l.lo Abigail," Ryan said softly and sardonically.

Abigail examined the young woman in front of her, a young woman who was no longer young but truly one of the Old Ones. Abigail noted the slight physical changes in Ryan that Marilyn had noted, and the non-physical ones as well. She smiled her slight and enigmatic smile.

"h.e.l.lo my dear."

Susan had a very good idea who the older woman was, just by Ryan's previous tales. But there was much Ryan had failed to convey in her stories.

Each of these people had distinctive characteristics that were magnified by a devastating eroticism. From Marilyn's earthy sensuality to Abigail's matronly seduction, they all wore their l.u.s.t on their sleeve with little if any contrition. Even now, in her position of objective judgment, Abigail did not hide her admiration for Victor's protege.

With great show, Abigail seated herself behind the huge desk, smoothing her robe. She picked up the paperwork in front of her.

"The courtroom may be seated."

Susan Ryerson started to sit but then caught herself awkwardly halfway. No one else in the great hall had moved, so she as subtly as possible stood upright once more. Edward stood rigidly upright, unmoving.

Abigail's rustling papers were very loud in the silence, a silence that became even more p.r.o.nounced when the rustling slowed, then stopped.

Abigail glanced around the great hall. Not a single person moved. All stood stiffly as if involuntarily at attention. Abigail turned to look at Marilyn, whose gaze flicked upward to those in the balconies, then around the room. She turned her attention to the accused standing in front of her.

Ryan stood at the head of the great hall, only the slightest trace of tension about her. Very slowly and with deliberate casualness she took her seat. She took a moment to settle into the cus.h.i.+on, then crossed one long leg over the other. Without taking her eyes from Abigail, she languidly raised her hand, and with a casual gesture, allowed the rest of the room to take their seats.

There was much whispering as people settled into their chairs; no one in the room missed the significance of the gesture. Abigail herself was aware of the message Ryan had sent her. She gazed down at the younger woman with the ambiguous emotions of their Kind. She was impressed but not surprised; exasperated but unmoved; and, as always, stimulated by the casual display of power. She looked down at her paperwork.

"Please state your name for the record."

"My name is Rhian."

Susan glanced over at Ryan. She spoke her name with that curious inflection, as she had the first time she had met her.

Abigail peered expectantly over the papers. "Your full name, my dear."

Ryan s.h.i.+fted in her seat, a look of discomfiture pa.s.sing over her features. She took a deep breath. "My name is Rhiannon Alexander."

This brought a slight murmur as Abigail nodded in satisfaction. "Rhiannon," she said, "The G.o.ddess of the dead. How appropriate."

Susan at last understood. Ryan spoke her name so curiously because it was a shortened version of her true name, a name that she had never spoken.

Ryan sat back in her chair, arms folded. Abigail gazed at her a few moments longer, enjoying the implications of the name. Her gaze drifted over to Susan. "But I do believe you are now called *Ryan.'"

Ryan nodded curtly. "That is correct."

Abigail turned her attention to the paperwork in front of her, from which she began to read aloud.

"You have been brought here today to be tried by a jury of your peers-"

"Then I move for a mistrial," Edward said, interrupting her.

Abigail peered over the paperwork. "On what grounds, counsel?"

Edward turned to Ryan, who gazed at Abigail with her unblinking gaze. "I have no peers," she said.

The silence was very loud as Ryan's words hung in the room. Susan gazed up at Abigail, expecting to see the older woman angered at Ryan's insolence. Instead, Abigail was having difficulty controlling a smile. She regained her composure and waved her hand.

"This is inconsequential."

The omission in Abigail's words was greater than the content, and silence again settled upon the room. Ryan spoke softly.

"But not untrue."

Abigail herself did not break eye contact this time. "No," she agreed, nodding ever so slightly, "not untrue." She drew herself up. "But it is still immaterial, motion denied."

The gavel came down, startling Susan so she jumped. She glanced over at Ryan, then back up at the judge. She wasn't certain what was going on, but it seemed Ryan had just won two small victories in a row. She could not tell if this judge wanted to destroy the defendant or eat her for breakfast. Somehow she had the feeling the magistrate wanted to do both.

Abigail continued to read from the paperwork. "You are accused of killing your mentor, Victor Alexander. How do you plead?"

The expectancy in the room was in sharp contrast to Ryan's nonchalance. "I plead not guilty," she said firmly.

A murmur went through the crowd and Abigail raised an eyebrow. "You deny killing Victor?"

Ryan shook her head. "No, I plead not guilty because my actions were justified."

Another murmur swept the crowd as Abigail gazed down at the defendant. "An interesting defense."

A distinguished looking black man stood. Apparently he would be serving in the role of prosecuting attorney. He turned to Ryan. "So you admit killing Victor Alexander."

Edward stepped forward. "Objection, my client admits nothing."

The prosecutor turned to Abigail, speaking over Edward's continued objections. "If the defendant wishes to stipulate to certain details of the crime to-"

Ryan interrupted. "So stipulated," she said impatiently, silencing them both. Her gaze drifted to Marilyn. "It is well-known I killed Victor."

The prosecuting attorney seemed surprised at his own victory, and settled back into his chair. Edward sat down, unperturbed at this turn of events. Abigail continued.

"In order to judge the validity of your defense, we must examine the events surrounding the incident. I will allow the prosecution to begin its case."

The prosecuting attorney stood. "Very well, your honor, I would like to call to the stand my first witness, Dr. Susan Ryerson."

Ryan's head jerked up in surprise. Edward sighed. Susan looked over at Ryan, then stood uncertainly. Marilyn gestured Susan towards a seat next to the judge's stand.

Susan settled into the cus.h.i.+oned seat, very aware of Abigail's proximity. Abigail gazed down at Susan with a sort of motherly sympathy. "There's no need to swear you in, Dr. Ryerson. We will know instantly if you're lying."

Sympathetic or not, Susan did not miss the threat lurking in Abigail's words. She nodded her understanding, remaining remarkably poised. She turned her attention to the prosecuting attorney.

"Dr. Ryerson, can you describe the circ.u.mstances under which you first came to meet Ryan Alexander?"

Susan was silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Were they asking her if she stole the body from the morgue? She didn't think so. "Ryan came to the hospital as a patient." She stopped. "No, that's not entirely correct. She came to the hospital as a corpse. The coroner discovered her in the morgue and determined she was not dead, but rather comatose."

The prosecutor nodded, willing to let this version of the truth stand. "And can you describe the defendant's physical condition at that time?"

Edward leaned forward and began to take notes as Susan continued.

"Ryan was in a deep vegetative state. She had no vital signs, no blood pressure, no heartbeat, no respirations. She had sustained several *mortal' injuries, including fractures to both her skull and femur. Even so, she exhibited an extraordinary amount of brainwave activity, which is why I put her in intensive care."

Ryan smiled as Susan's heartbeat jumped up, indicating the lie. Abigail turned to look down on her as Susan desperately tried to calm herself.

Edward fingered his pen, scratched something on his pad, then abruptly stood. "Your honor," he began, "I object to this line of questioning based upon relevance, or rather lack of relevance, to the case at hand."

Abigail appeared entertained by this early conflict. She turned to the prosecutor expectantly. "Well counselor?"

The handsome black man was unperturbed. "Your honor, I'm simply laying a foundation for my future argument, which will reveal itself as I continue."

Abigail turned back to Edward. "I will allow it for the time being, counsel." She smiled down at Susan. "You'll have to be patient, we're rarely if ever in a hurry."

Edward returned to his seat and the prosecutor turned his attention back to Susan.

"Please continue, doctor. How did Ryan's healing progress?"

Susan looked over at Ryan as she spoke. "Ryan's healing was remarkable. Once she received a blood transfusion-"

The prosecutor interrupted her. "A blood transfusion? Human blood?"

Susan nodded and a slight murmur went through the courtroom. Susan felt the need to explain. "It was human blood at first, but it quickly took on properties I'd never seen before, properties I came to a.s.sociate with Ryan."

The prosecutor was helpful. "Properties such as-?"

Susan shrugged. "Heightened immunity, predatory blood cells, an extraordinary adaptive system..."

The prosecutor nodded his understanding as Susan trailed off. "And how long did it take Ryan to heal completely?"

Susan was thoughtful for a moment. "I would say it took about three weeks."

This time the murmur in the courtroom was more p.r.o.nounced. Edward himself was caught off guard, if such a thing were possible. Three weeks was unexpectedly short. He stood.

"Your honor, the prosecution has failed to show the relevance of this line of questioning. I'm going to have to object once more."

The prosecutor started to interject his counter-argument, but Abigail waved him off, her eyes on Ryan. "I see little objection coming from your client, counsel, which leads me to believe she herself understands the relevance of this line of questioning."

Edward turned to Ryan. Ryan's reply was casual. "I have a feeling I know where this is going."

Abigail nodded, her eyes gleaming. "I'm going to allow him to continue."

Edward sat down, the beginnings of a suspicion forming. Two hundred years to prepare for this moment, and apparently his client hadn't told him everything.

The prosecutor turned his attention back to Susan. "I believe you had the opportunity to examine another one of our Kind," he said, pausing for effect, "a Young One."

Susan's eyes s.h.i.+fted to Ryan and her sudden uncertainty was evident to all in the room. Ryan waved her off. "By all means, Dr. Ryerson, please be truthful." She turned her head, addressing no one in particular. "Yes, yes, I killed him, too."

Susan looked around. Neither the prosecutor or the judge seemed startled at this admission, nor did they give any indication it was significant. She glanced over at Marilyn, who seemed to be presiding in some sort of bailiff position. Marilyn actually appeared amused at the admission.

The prosecutor gently prompted Susan. "Doctor?"

Susan began slowly. "Yes, I examined another one of your Kind. I performed a complete post-mortem examination, as well as an autopsy."

The prosecutor nodded, his words thoughtful. "And how would you compare his anatomy to Ryan's? And please keep it in layman's terms, Dr. Ryerson," he interjected before Susan could begin. "Very few of our Kind are doctors because we have little need of them."

This brought a few chuckles from about the room, allowing Susan to gather her thoughts. Even with the additional time, however, she could think of only one thing to say.

"They're different."

Silence abruptly settled on the room once more. Ryan herself leaned forward, for the first time demonstrating any interest at all in the proceedings. The autopsy had been so recent, they had not discussed Susan's findings.

Susan looked at Ryan, gathering strength from her. "The anatomy of the Young One was very different from Ryan's."

The prosecutor shrugged. "You say different. How different, doctor? Significantly different?"

Susan seemed oddly hesitant. "I don't know much about the anatomy of your Kind..."