Just a reminder, I only claim Adrienne and the Mithra'ahni as my creations. Everything else belongs to Top Cow, and TNT, and a whole bunch of other lucky stuffs. I'm just borrowing them for my little story.
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Neither Adrienne nor Nottingham said a word until Ian was ushering her into Iron's receiving room. "Your guest, sir." Ian was about to leave when Adrienne spoke. She had been appraising her surroundings.
"Oh, do stay, Ian. The more the merrier." She was looking directly at Irons, well aware that he would be annoyed.
"Yes, Ian, stay a while. You can properly introduce us, for a start."
"Miss Adrienne Farrell, my employer, Kenneth Irons." Irons rose to greet her; he took her left hand and gently touched it to his lips. Adrienne's eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Miss Farrell."
"Mr. Irons." She stood her ground. Irons was used to intimidating people; this girl surprised him. She could meet his eyes with a clear, cold, unwavering gaze to match his own.
"Ian, please take care of Miss Farrall's coat." Ian did so, and then resumed his position in the shadows at the back of the room. "Please, Miss Farrell, Adrienne, do you mind if I call you Adrienne?"
"If you wish," came her cool reply.
"Adrienne, please, do sit down." Irons indicated a high-backed leather chair opposite him, and Adrienne complied. Somehow, despite her small stature and the relative giant size of the chair, she managed to look completely poised. "So, I understand you are a half sister to an acquaintance of mine, Sara Pezzini. Remarkable woman, Miss Pezzini. I wasn't aware she had any siblings."
"Weren't you? I would have expected you to have her entire family tree committed to memory."
"Indeed?"
"I don't like playing mind games, Mr. Irons. I find them tiresome. Please make your point."
"Well, you certainly have Sara's appreciation for brevity. Though I must admit, you are rather more eloquent about it." Adrienne moved her lips into something between a smile and a sneer.
"Mr. Irons?" She sounded a bit bored.
"I have had, for some time, a vested interest in Sara Pezzini; in her affairs and her well-being."
"A vested interest? What an intriguing way of putting it." Irons ignored this comment.
" As her sister, I know you would never dream of causing her any trouble, of putting her in any danger, of worrying her unduly. what I mean to say is, it's really best for everyone if you don't complicate Sara's situation by introducing your involvement into her life."
"You mean, it would make things difficult for you." All the sarcasm was drained from Adrienne's voice; her words were a simple statement of fact.
"If you wish to put it that way."
"Oh, and I do. It is, after all, the truth. You must have thought me exceptionally stupid, Mr. Irons, bringing me here expecting to be able to bully me into staying away from my own sister; leaving you, of all people, to interfere freely. what will it be next? Bribes I suppose. What do you think would buy me, Mr. Irons? Wealth? Power? Long life? You are a very great fool indeed, Mr. Irons, for not knowing your adversary." Irons glared at her.
"Oh, don't you remember?" Adrienne taunted, "Don't you recognize me, Daddy?"
She spat out the last sentence as if it carried some foul taste. Irons stared at Adrienne for a moment. Then he smiled coldly, regaining his composure.
"I'm afraid you are mistaken in that claim. I have no-" Adrienne cut him off.
"No, I am not mistaken. True, perhaps you have no legally recognized offspring. However, even if I were not trained in various majicks, there are still plenty of things to prove my claim." She paused, and when Irons said nothing, she slammed a photograph down on the table next to him. "Don't you remember?" Adrienne made no attempt to hide the bitterness in her voice. "Don't you remember my mother? She had the mental and emotional stability of a seesaw, and you seduced her. She was married, with two children, and you seduced her while her husband was working a rig in the North Sea. You got her pregnant, and when you realized the child wouldn't be what you wanted, what you thought it would be, you disappeared. So I was born, and my mother lost it, and she wasn't even sane enough to hold me.
You thought she would bear you a bladewielder. You preyed on her, on her visions. All your research indicated that she would mother the wielder. But you could tell that your child was never meant to wear the gauntlet. Thing is, you were so set on that one thing, on the witchblade, that you failed to recognize the unusual potential I did have. my aunt saw it, before I was born, that I could be a vessel, a conduit for power. Imagine what power you might have controlled if you took me! And in your ignorance, you abandoned me. And me, I became a Mithra'ahni, and one who cursed you daily.
I can only be glad it took you such a long time to find Sara; never occurred to you that she had been born ten years before you laid eyes on our mother, and was safely tucked away in New York."
There was total silence in the room for what seemed like hours. Ian Nottingham had lifted his head some time before to observe the scene playing out before him. When Irons finally spoke, he was looking at the photograph. He made no attempt to deny Adrienne's story, and said only, "The Mithra'ahni are dead. You cannot be one of them."
"Such things never die, as you should know. Numbers dwindle, but knowledge and power remain, to be passed on or rediscovered. If you had trained me, you might have made a powerful ally. Instead, you have yet another person who would sooner see your head on a spike than speak to you." Adrienne stopped, and tilted her head to look at Irons. "Thank heavens I favor my grandmother in looks. If I resembled you I would have died of shame long before now. I'll be leaving. I hope you die the long and miserable death you deserve. Keep the picture. I don't need a reminder of how loathsome you are."
She stood and strode purposefully toward the coat tree. Ian was ready for her, and helped her into her slim black leather jacket. He was about to follow her out the door when Irons' voice caught him. "Where are you going?" the older man inquired acidly. Ian gave the slightest shrug of his shoulders.
"I brought the lady here. I thought I must at least take her home."
"Oh. Very well." Ian left Irons pacing in front of his fireplace.