by Lora Edwards
Victor sat and stared. Armand watched steadily, letting him process this information. He knew Victor and knew he had been drowning in the guilt of what had happened to Amora, had blamed himself for her death. To find out she was an immortal was a lot to take in.
Victor looked at Armand after a lengthy silence, hope and other emotions that could not be defined swirling in his eyes. “May I see her?” His words were barely audible.
Armand just nodded and picked up the phone, speaking into it for a few moments before returning the receiver to the cradle. “She will be with us shortly.”
Victor laughed, wiping his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants. “I find myself quite nervous. It is not a feeling I am accustomed to and not a pleasant or comfortable one, I am not afraid to tell you.”
“It will be fine, Victor. She still cares for you, and she is not the type to hold a grudge or place blame where it is not warranted. This was not your doing—it was the countess’s.”
“And if I had not scorned the countess?”
Armand sat up in his chair, putting steel into his voice. “Then she would have started preying on the villagers, and she would have become jealous of your close relationship with Amora. She would have been a target in any case. The countess would have destroyed her to rid herself of the competition for your attention. It is, in a way, a much better outcome for Victoria this way.”
“I quite agree,” came a soft voice from the direction of the door. Both men looked over to see Victoria standing there, a demure expression on her face.
“Amora, you look just the same.” Victor sighed as he stood shakily from the chair and approached the woman.
She didn’t move, just stood there looking at him, letting him drink her in. He reached a shaky hand to her cheek and caressed it.
“I am so sorry. If I had known what she was capable of I would have never let her into my home. I have mourned you for centuries and have vowed revenge for your death. I have spent the last few centuries looking for the countess, though she continues to elude me. I was bent on avenging you, lass. Your disappearance left a hole in my heart that has never been filled.”
A silent tear slid down Victoria’s face. “Victor, it was not your doing. It is as Armand said—she would have destroyed me instead of turning me, and if it is all the same to you, I quite prefer this outcome.” A small smile crossed her face.
A watery laugh from Victor boomed across the room. “Just the same, you are, Amora, the same wit and fire I remember.”
She took a step back and looked up into his eyes. Here was a man she had loved like a brother, a man who, despite the morals of the time, had seen the intelligence in her even though she was a woman. He had taught her to read and write, had spent long evenings discussing subjects with her as an equal. He had given her a gift she had never forgotten, a gift that had kept her company and allowed her to escape into other worlds in all the centuries she had been trapped with the countess. The truth was, she was no longer that idealistic and innocent girl he had known. She had seen too many terrible things, had been made to do too many horrific things, all of which had taken that innocence and idealism away. There were still hints of that girl there, and she saw them in herself, but there was a bitterness and a cynical quality to her that she had not possessed all those years ago. She had to make him see that.
“Victor, I am called Victoria now. When I escaped the countess, I changed my name to mask my tracks, and I quite prefer it to the name I was given at birth. I am not the same girl you knew. The centuries in between have affected me in ways I am certain even I do not recognize. I want to be clear about one thing: it was not your fault. The blame is entirely on the countess’s shoulders. She was the one to kidnap and hold me prisoner for all those years, and the fact that you have sought revenge on me for all this time shows that you are still the valiant and kind man I knew. It is time to put that aside to work with Armand and myself to capture her, to make sure her reign of terror ends. I am not the same girl I was, but I would very much like you to get to know Victoria, and I hope one day you can be just as close to her as you were to Amora.”
Victor sat back in his chair, his eyes wide. This eloquent woman with the knowledge of the ages in her eyes was not his innocent and bright-eyed Amora. This woman, Victoria, had seen horrors and lived through centuries, which would change any being. He could still see just in their brief acquaintance some of the pieces of the Amora he’d known, but she was right—he would have to get to know Victoria and learn to love this new version of his Amora. There was no doubt in his mind that with time he would come to value her friendship and feel for Victoria the same brotherly love he felt for Amora. She was different, yes, but still enough the same that he recognized his young friend.
“Aye, lass, spending time getting to know such a wise and beautiful woman does not sound like much of a hardship to me.” Victor winked at her, causing Victoria to blush prettily. “Well, some things haven’t changed—you still turn a pretty pink when given a bit of a compliment.”
Armand cleared his throat from behind his desk and gave Victor a severe look. “All right, enough of that. We need to get down to business and figure out a plan to take down the countess.” Armand turned his eyes to the paperwork in front of him and missed the wide grin that spread across Victor’s face as wells as the blush that deepened on Victoria’s.
So that is the way the wind blows, Victor thought to himself with a small chuckle. He couldn’t have asked for a better man for the lass, and he hoped the little bit of stiffness he saw in his friend and the hints in their earlier conversation came to fruition. Victoria deserved to be happy; after all, she had suffered greatly.
The thought brought him back to the task at hand. With the three of them together, the countess didn’t stand a chance.
They discussed and hashed and rehashed a plan late into the night, at times their voices becoming loud as they argued. At some point, Armand had called Sanguine and had his unique blend of the blood they craved and the flavors they missed brought in. He enjoyed watching Victoria experience the flavors mingled together and took exquisite pride in the way she praised him for his unique invention.
They came up with a plan and dispersed for the night, Victoria and Victor making plans to do some sightseeing in the modern world the next day. Armand was invited but begged off, as there was so much to do now that he would be leaving the institute in another’s hands. He did regret not being able to watch Victoria’s face as she discovered various modern inventions and marveled at what had been left standing from the time she had come from and how London had changed.
He had a duty to leave what he’d created in good hands. He had a duty to make sure the institute, its missions, and its employees were well looked after as he left to hunt the countess.
Armand sighed and rubbed his temples as he thought of the mountain of work he needed to get done over the next few days before leaving for France. For the moment, it was late, and he would indulge in a whiskey in front of the fire in his rooms, a comfort he hadn’t quite been able to rid himself of even though he didn’t feel the effects of the alcohol. The magic or whatever it was that made him a vampire metabolized it much too quickly, but still, the ritual was a comfort, and it allowed him some quiet time to think.
He heard the distinct click of his office door opening as he gathered his things. “Did you forget something?” He turned, expecting to see Victoria or Victor standing at his door. “Cleo, I thought you would have left hours ago. What are you still doing here?”
“I needed to speak with you, and I was willing to wait as long as it took.” She walked over to the front of his desk and sat in the visitor chair, crossing her legs. He sighed inwardly, but was concerned as her voice lacked its usual bite and snark. It was rare for Cleo to get melancholy or even serious, and when she did, he knew he needed to pay attention.
“What is on your mind? I have noticed you have been a bit restless as of late.”
At his comment she snar
led and jumped out of the chair to pace the office like a caged animal. “I have always been grateful to you for what you have done for me. I know you have placed me in a position of honor and my opinion and intelligence are invaluable to you.”
Armand smirked; Cleo’s self-esteem certainly wasn’t the issue. He allowed himself a moment of pride akin to that of a proud parent. The scared little dragon cub he had rescued long ago had grown into a proud and fierce woman.
“Very true. I do value your opinion and your sharp mind,” he said mildly as he watched her stalk and pace.
She whirled on him, her eyes drenched in gold, her temper causing the dragon inside of her to leap into her gaze. “I am tired of using my brain. I am sick of sitting at my desk feigning boredom while everyone waltzes in and out of here on important and dangerous missions. I need to fight, Armand. I have kept my nature on a leash for too long. The dragon, she has been patient, but she has started to tug at the end of that tether, and it feels unbearable.” Cleo’s voice cracked ever so slightly, her lip curling up in a snarl at the weakness of it.
“I agree with you, Cleo, and it is a conversation I was planning to have with you in the near future. I suppose now is as good a time as any.” Armand gestured to the seat in front of him and watched her throw herself into it like a petulant child. He felt the irritation with her behavior along with his affection for her in twin tugs, as any parent would at a child throwing a fit. “I have noticed you have been restless, and I never believed you would want to help me run the institute forever. In fact, I am very surprised this conversation did not come sooner. Thank you, Cleo, for helping me. I trust very few people with the secrets and ins and outs of this place, and your service truly has been invaluable. Please tell me, do you want to leave and explore life outside of here?” Armand sat back and felt a certain amount of pity as desire and duty warred in Cleo’s expression.
“I don’t want to leave the institute at this time,” she said, finally looking him in the eye. “I would like to join the others on missions.”
Armand nodded. “That can be arranged.”
“Really? You are not going to try to convince me to stay?”
“Cleo, you are like my own daughter. It has been such since I found you huddled under that cart. You had no idea what you were, terrified of your own nature and abandoned by your own parents. I brought you here, raised you in safety and comfort, and arranged for you to be trained by Bran’s parents. It was not just out of duty—you must know I love you like my own child.”
Cleo shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She did not like to think about her life before she came to the institute. It was a dark time, and although she had only been a child of three, she remembered vividly the years before Armand rescued her. She also remembered the time after and how she had bitten the hand that had rescued her—at times, literally. He had continued to have patience and be a steady presence until she found herself trusting him then loving him, vowing at a young age that she would do anything for him.
“I know you do, Armand. That is why this is hard for me. I feel as if I am being ungrateful for what you have given me.”
“There is no reason for you to feel that way. You have more than paid back any imaginary debt you feel you owe me. If you would like to leave the institute, feel free, but know there will always be a place for you here.”
Cleo felt the clawing, the rage, the need to be free burrowing in her chest. She needed to go out into the world. She needed to be able to see what was beyond the walls of the institute.
She stood tall, and even as the feeling that she was letting him down flitted through her mind, the feeling of being a trapped animal was stronger.
“I will take you up on the offer. Who will you find to help you with the institute?”
Armand only smiled a tired smile. “Do you not worry yourself about such things. That is for me to take care of.”
Cleo turned and almost rescinded her offer, but the clawing sensation again rose in her breast. She would be no good to anyone if she ignored her true nature. She needed to be able to go forth and experience the outside world.
“I will return.”
Armand smiled genuinely. “Of this I have no doubt.”
Cleo walked to the door, pausing and turning with her hand on the handle. “I do love you, Armand. You are the only true father I have ever known, and if you have need of me before I return, you have only to reach out to me.”
“I know, ma petite. You go find what you are looking for, and the institute will be here when you return.”
With a final nod and head down to hide her tears, she quickly left the office, stopping once in the room he had made to suit her unique nature. She felt the dam inside her heave, but she would not let it break, would not let sentiment tie her there any longer. She quickly went to her rooms and packed her bags, walking swiftly down the empty corridor. She rode the elevator to the basement, her booted foot tapping on the plush carpet. The doors opened and a chilly draft washed over her. Cleo left the elevator, a sleek black and gold helmet under her arm. The tap of her boot heels echoed off the stone walls as she made her way to her custom-painted gold Indian 1200 motorcycle. She placed the helmet over her shiny black braid, slung her leg over the seat of the bike, and revved up the engine before roaring out into the night.
Chapter 4
Armand sat before a crackling fire, whiskey in one hand, the flames dancing on his face as he stared into them. He sighed as he sipped the amber liquid in his cut glass tumbler. He had sent out summons for two rather than just one now. He had alerted the mages of the need for their presence, and now he just had to wait. It did give him a certain amount of pleasure to think of the conversations happening in suites in his institute, two of his most treasured employees puzzled by the summons. He was about to offer them a great gift, one he hoped they would accept. He had watched them and had put this idea into the back of his head. He had been restless; he had seen it in Cleo and knew a change of the guard was coming. So, he had watched and waited, chosen and discarded, and he felt he had found the two who would lead the institute going forward. Pleased with his decision, Armand let his thoughts wander, and they drifted to the lovely Victoria. She had been so stalwart in his office, so lively as she had bandied about and discarded ideas. She had raised her voice and made her opinion known, and he was more and more intrigued with her each time they had contact. When this mission was complete and she felt the heaviness of the countess’s presence lifted from her, it would then be the time to explore his feelings. He would not have the mantle of the institute weighing on him, and he would be free to court her in his own grand style.
With his plans for the future in motion, Armand let his mind consider the possibilities for his future just as he imagined the members of the institute were doing while puzzled by their summons.
“Where’s Cleo,” Delphine asked her husband as they walked into the ornate gilded outer office. They had received an urgent summons from Armand to come to his office. They were puzzled and excited, thinking there must be some intrigue afoot. “I am not sure there has ever been a time where I have come in and she has not been here making some snarky comment.”
Flynn looked around the large room, making sure she wasn’t standing there with a bored and irritated look on her face, ready to eviscerate them for overlooking her, but the room was silent. The pictures in their heavy gilt frames and the large ornate furniture covered in red velvet were a silent testament to the taste of the dragon who resided there, though said dragon was nowhere to be found.
“Where is Cleo,” asked a voice behind them. They turned to see Bran and Teagan standing behind them.
The two couples greeted each other, expressing their bewilderment at the absence of Armand’s admin.
The door to his office opened, and the man himself stepped out.
“Cleo has taken a sabbatical. If the four of you will please come this way, I have something important to discuss with you.” He turned, gesturing for them
to follow him into his office.
The two couples looked at each other meaningfully before following Armand into his stately office. He pulled out the high-backed captain’s chair at the head of a long walnut table, and the two couples pulled out the other four dark wooden chairs placed either side.
“I am sure you are wondering why I have brought you here this evening. The information I am about to divulge needs to remain secret while the transition takes place. Ovidia and Erik, your fellow mission operatives, will of course be filled in, but the institute at large will not be told until it is done.”
Armand looked around the table, amused by the confusion on their faces.
“Let me explain. Cleo has decided to take an extended leave of absence followed by a change in position should she choose to return to the institute. It is understood that no matter how long she is away, she will always have a place here. That needs to be understood and agreed upon before we proceed.”
“Cleo has always been part of the institute. We were children here at the same time—why would she no longer be allowed to be a part of it? It is her home.” Bran looked at Armand like he had lost his mind.
“I am glad to hear you say so, Bran, as it reaffirms that I have made the right choice. Bran, you have lived here most of your life and have fought many battles for the institute to ensure the safety of humans and supernaturals alike. You met and married Teagan here at the institute. Teagan, you have a strong brain and a knack for research that has benefited the institute greatly. Without the work of all in this room, this organization would not be what it is today.” He paused for a moment. “I find myself tired of my role here. I have found a mission that interests me, one that is deeply personal. That being said, Bran, I would like you to take over as head of the institute until my return.”
Armand did not wait for his statement to sink in or for a response before turning to Delphine.