Dreamleaf Blues (The Book Wielder Saga)

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Dreamleaf Blues (The Book Wielder Saga) Page 22

by Sean Davies


  Beside him was a male Vampire dressed in a black trench coat with red lining, a black shirt, trousers, boots, and a red tie marked with the Shadow Circle’s symbol in gold stitching. His garb appeared to be smart yet practical, and before he fixated on Genevieve his red eyes had been searching around the room as though they were continually looking for potential dangers. He had long, jet-black hair that was tied back with a black ribbon, and his pale face was the true dictionary definition of handsome, but his expression gave Genie the impression that he was stern, strict, and extremely sensible. Genevieve wondered, at a glance, if he was the Shadow Circle’s vampiric version of Gaius.

  A female Vampire sat beside the male one, and her overwhelming beauty almost knocked the breath out of Genie’s lungs. Her sleek and silky black hair fell halfway down her back, and her snow-white face looked sweet and innocent, but her eyes were seductively sly and deeply inviting in a way that put even the talented girls of Fort Dominia to shame. Her massive firm breasts were even bigger than Kaylie’s, and they were pushed shamelessly to their limits by a tight black and red corset that ended in a short, pleated black mini-skirt. Under the table Genevieve caught a glance of her smooth white legs rubbing together slowly and sexily, ending in a pair of long evilly sharp stiletto heels. The woman seeped an overwhelming aura of pure sexual power, and Genie wondered if that was how Annabelle would’ve turned out if she had become a Supernatural.

  Opposite the Vampires was a smartly dressed Mage with deeply intelligent purple eyes behind a pair of old-fashioned silver rimmed spectacles, rolling cigarettes with expensive tobacco from a detailed silver tin marked with an engraving of Imperia’s original banner. He had short white hair in a parting, and a friendly and welcoming expression on his clean-shaven face, and Genevieve pictured him in her mind as an old-fashioned scholar. He was dressed in a long grey duster with several small pockets in the inner lining, a white shirt, smart grey trousers, and polished shoes.

  Next to the Mage, at the end of the table, was a muscular hulk of man with savage yellow eyes. Genevieve didn’t need an introduction to know that he was a Werewolf Brutebeast. He had long brown hair that was wild and scruffy, falling beyond his shoulder blades, and a thick brown beard with a small plait on his chin. Regardless of the restaurant’s formal dress code he was wearing a leather jacket, white t-shirt, torn jeans, and a pair of worn black leather boots, but Genie couldn’t blame the staff for not attempting to turn him away. Despite his fearsome appearance the Werewolf seemed cheerful, and was sharing a cigar with a tanned girl sitting on his lap.

  The playful woman sitting casually atop the Brutebeast shared his feral yellow eyes, and they were full of lively energy. She had a chin-length bob cut of shaggy light brown hair, small sharp features, and an athletically toned body that was displayed well by her severe lack of clothing. The female Werewolf had also disregarded the formal dress code completely and was wearing a black t-shirt, illustrated with coils of barbed wire and torn to end just beneath her pert breasts, a pair of denim hot pants, and some long brown boots. She gave Genevieve a playfully curious look as she reached the end of the table.

  “Hi,” Genie began meekly. “I’m Genevieve-”

  “Jameson,” the buxom Vampire babe interrupted and winked cheekily, “but your friends call you Genie for short.”

  “How…?” Genevieve stuttered.

  “Veronica’s a Bloodmage, one of the best on the planet,” the male Vampire answered in a no-nonsense tone. “She can glean your thoughts.”

  “You can relax, Xavier, if that’s even possible,” Veronica said with a playful grin. “She’s only here to talk.”

  “Then let her speak,” the Book Wielder said, waving his fork in Genie’s general direction. “She’s putting me off my dessert.”

  Genevieve cleared her throat and then began. “I’m with the Golden Fangs-”

  “Reluctantly,” the gorgeous Vampire interrupted again.

  “Veronica, enough,” Xavier chided sternly while giving her a firm look of disapproval.

  Genie continued, trying her best not to come across flustered despite the multiple interruptions. “A friend in the Trinity pointed me in your direction-”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the human interrupted rudely. “A Golden Fang… friendly with the Trinity?! You need to leave while you can, sister. I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “I’m not here for you,” Genie replied angrily, finally losing her patience.

  The Mage stood up and held his hands out diplomatically, “Let’s cool it down, shall we? This is a public restaurant, after all.”

  “Exactly,” Veronica said merrily. “Genie, take a seat. I’ll introduce you to the gang.”

  Genevieve sat down at the free seat opposite the hungry Book Wielder and tried to ignore the bitter, curious, and amused looks being directed at her.

  “Would you like a cigarette?” the Mage offered kindly.

  Genie nodded gratefully, and he lit her cigarette with a tiny blast of fire from his fingertip.

  “You’re barking up the wrong tree, Alex,” Veronica whispered loudly across the table. “She’s more into my type.”

  The Mage went bright red. “I don’t know what you mean. It was merely a gesture…”

  “Aww, we’ll find you love one day, man,” the female Werewolf said sympathetically.

  “Get him a book, he’ll enjoy it more,” the big Werewolf cackled with laughter.

  Veronica tapped her nail on an empty wine glass to bring silence to the group and started her introductions jovially, regardless of the tense situation around her. “Mr. Strict over there is Xavier, he’s the head of the guard. The little sexy Werewolf is Lynette, and the big sexy Werewolf is Kavarne. The embarrassed Mage is Alexander, a pro at blowing things to smithereens. I’m Veronica, as you know – some of my friends just call me ‘V’ for short – and this jolly fellow at the head of the table is Dean Savies, our primary Book Wielder.”

  “That’s an interesting name.” Genevieve looked across the table and tried not to laugh.

  “It’s made up,” Dean said through a big mouthful of cheesecake. “I destroyed my old identity when I became a Book Wielder, many, many years ago. Better for keeping safe. What’s the number one rule of the game, Xav?”

  “Play it safe,” Xavier answered with an approving nod.

  “Exactly, exactly…” Dean mused. “So on that note, I think we should be off. I’d rather not dine around this Trinity-loving, Golden Fang snake. It’s not safe, being that we’re enemies and all.”

  “Chill the fuck out, Dean.” Veronica got up and walked over to Genevieve. “Keep stuffing your face, we’ll head to the bar. Genie, shall we?” she asked, holding her arm out to the young Vampire.

  “Gladly,” Genie replied, taking Veronica’s arm and staring daggers at Dean.

  “What’s got your tiny little G-string in a twist, V?” Dean asked, shocked.

  Xavier stared at Veronica intently, as though they were sharing a moment of silent communication.

  “Just a hunch.” Veronica tapped her temple and winked.

  Genevieve looked confused. “A hunch about what?”

  “That good things are on the horizon, Genie-girl,” Veronica replied wistfully as she led her to the outside bar.

  Genevieve took a drag from the cigarette to try and calm her temper, and savoured the rich smoky taste. Whatever exotic tobacco the Mage used was a thousand times better than the tailor-made ones from the shops. She found it difficult not to ogle the stunning Vampire’s hourglass figure, and Veronica smirked as though she was enjoying Genie’s attention.

  The sheltered bar was small but exceedingly well stocked, immaculately polished, and even had four comfortable looking stalls in front of it. It was manned by a solitary barman who was polishing glasses with a look of professional ignorance that was far too good to be real, and Genie could tell that he knew and heard far more than his blank expression let on.

  Veronica took a stall and patted one next to
her, and as Genie sat down she pulled out a bundle of tightly coiled money from a seemingly hidden pocket on the side of her red corset.

  “Barman,” Veronica purred as she leant over the bar, exposing as much cleavage as possible. “Two glasses of your finest red wine… and make them extra red.”

  The barman did his best to keep his bland façade, but both girls caught him glancing down several times, and Veronica looked amused and licked her fangs.

  “They serve blood here?!” Genevieve whispered as she stubbed out her cigarette in a crystal ashtray.

  Veronica nodded. “You don’t get to be the best restaurant in Imperia without catering to all needs. Now, tell me about your friend.”

  “Can’t you just read my mind?” Genie asked dubiously, wondering how far the Bloodmage’s powers could reach inside her brain.

  “I can only skim the surface,” Veronica said reassuringly.

  The barman brought over two tall glasses of red wine spiked with blood and Veronica slid a large amount of Credit notes into his hand, brushing his fingertips with her own as she retracted them. To Veronica’s surprise, the barman nodded curtly and went back to polishing his glasses.

  “Impressive resolve. I’ll break him one day…” the sexy Vampire chuckled. “So, tell me everything, Genevieve Jameson,” she said eagerly.

  Genie thanked the voluptuous Vampire for the drink and explained the situation with Annabelle while drinking her wine, expanding on the details of her own origin tale when Veronica asked. Genevieve tried to skirt around certain details at first but the flirty Vampire made her feel at ease, and soon Genie was reciting the past few weeks of her life as a Supernatural, omitting only the extremely sensitive details about the Golden Fangs gang. Veronica was also quick to discount the notion that the Circle had killed Annabelle, claiming that they weren’t the type to turn on their own, just as Jonathan had said earlier.

  “So, you’re a Golden Fang because of a mutual hatred of the Morriganigh, sprinkled with a dash of blackmail,” Veronica chuckled.

  “Something like that,” Genie smirked.

  “You know, Seth tried it on with me once, before he was a big-shot. He grabbed me from behind on a dancefloor and put a hand up my skirt… so I used my blood magic to give him the impression that his cock had fallen off!” Veronica laughed.

  Genevieve sniggered as she imagined how hilarious Seth must have looked, panicking like a lunatic as he searched for his missing manhood.

  “Well, I’ll have an ask around and see who Anna reported to,” Veronica said kindly, getting them back on track. “I wish I could be of more help, and I’m very sorry for your loss, but we don’t pay much attention to humans unless they’re kicking up a storm. That doesn’t sound like your friend, though.”

  “No, she wasn’t like that at all,” Genevieve confirmed. “I don’t even think she knew that she was working for Supernaturals,” she added, remembering what Annabelle had said in the strange dream that had seemed far too real.

  “What an unusual place…” Veronica froze and her eyes glazed over as she glimpsed Genie’s recollection of the weird dream, before regaining her normal confident composure. “It doesn’t sound like the Morriganigh either, they normally keep themselves to themselves. But you know it can’t all end with revenge, not unless you get yourself killed in the process. Have you thought about what you want to do for the rest of eternity?”

  Genevieve sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t suppose there’s a cure, is there? Then I could go back to college and forget this ever happened,” she said half-jokingly.

  “Afraid not, but I don’t think you’d go back even if you could,” the sexy Vampire winked. “You like being a Vamp, you’re just not too sure of your colleagues.”

  Genie chuckled. “I swear, I get a job offer everywhere I go.”

  Veronica gave her a coy look. “The Golden Fangs are too violent and pig-headed, and the Trinity are too restrictive and boring, but with us… well, I know you’d fit right in, sweetie.”

  “Is that what you meant earlier?” Genie asked. “About that hunch?”

  Veronica tapped her temple. “I always had the sight to a certain degree, but when I got turned it amplified. Now I see snippets of Fate’s will.”

  “Fate?” Genevieve laughed. “So you believe we’re all like puppets on strings, dancing to some pre-set tune with no choices or something?”

  “Oh, Fate is very much a real force,” Veronica replied surely “I owe my success to my sight – being at the right place at the right time is a massive advantage, as you can imagine. But we all get to decide. Fate just shows us the path we’re destined for, gives us a nudge, and we can choose to walk it if we wish. That’s all happening subconsciously in your case, but with me it’s more like another sense. I don’t even register it half the time.”

  Genevieve had heard of similar theories about Fate before and never paid them any heed, along with the fading religion of the Twin Goddesses. She wondered briefly if the mystic act was a part of Veronica’s recruitment process.

  “So, what’s Fate got in store for me, then?” Genie asked critically.

  “Good things, once you join us,” Veronica smiled, but then her face twisted into a frown. “And you’ll get your answers, but you’re really not going to like them.”

  “I wasn’t expecting much good news at this point,” Genie replied sadly. “I’m just after some definitive closure.”

  Veronica shook her head, causing her raven black hair to ripple and wave, and then smiled again. “Give me your details, sweetie, I’ll be in touch when I’ve got something.”

  Genevieve scribbled her contact information on a piece of paper from a notepad in her handbag and Veronica did the same. They swapped the information, and Veronica gave Genie a tight hug and kissed her on the cheek, promising her that everything would get better as they said goodbye. The Shadow Circle Vampire even checked to make sure that Genie had enough Sunshield potion for the journey back to Woodsholme before they parted ways.

  Genie left the Praetor’s Pride feeling hopeful that answers were on the way, if not a little anxious, but being in the restaurant had given her a craving for some real food. She watched the men, women, and children of the Capital going about their lives and wondered fleetingly if there was some higher power directing them behind the scenes during their day-to-day lives.

  On the way back to her jeep, Genevieve stopped off at a fast-food stand which was filling the area with delicious scents of grilling meats, and ordered a big juicy cheese burger.

  “Keep your fancy restaurants…” She took a massive bite of the greasy burger and savoured the strong flavours and the scrumptious melted cheese. “This is priceless.”

  Chapter 11

  Subterfuge and Misdirection

  The drive back to her apartment was a calm affair and Genevieve took her time, enjoying the rest of the sunny day. She filled her sporty blue jeep up with DVO petrol, bought some chocolate with the leftover change, and cruised along to the northern mountain pass. By the time she arrived back at her seldom visited apartment it was well into the evening, and she was looking forward to blowing the dust off her keyboard and writing up the latest developments of her renewed investigation. Then she planned on installing her new PC game and playing it into the early hours of the morning.

  Genevieve wasn’t surprised to see that the Golden Fangs had been present during her long absence, although Annabelle’s room looked just as Genie had left it. However, the heartbroken Vampire couldn’t stand to be in there for more than a few minutes before the grief and sadness overwhelmed her. The fridge had been restocked with blood packs, her kitchen cupboards had been filled with an assortment of snacks (along with a large amount of alcohol, Dreamleaf, and tobacco pouches), and a silver case filled with money was waiting for her by the phone along with a sticky note that read ‘wages’. Someone had even dusted and hoovered.

  “Guess it pays to be the slayer,” Genie chuckled as she gazed at the masses of neatly stacked
notes in the case. She had to admit that she didn’t really know what to do with it all.

  She grabbed a pack of blood, decanted it into a glass, topped it up with vodka, and turned on the answering phone. As soon as the messages started reeling off, she wished that she hadn’t. Along with a pleasant message from her mother asking her to check in when she had a spare moment, the Golden Fangs had left a series of vague messages that increased in both urgency and anger.

  Genevieve sighed grumpily and put her strategy game’s big, well-presented box down on her desk. She downed her drink and swigged the remaining energy potion that Jonathan had given her in the Capital, before leaving the apartment once again.

  Genie was tempted to take the drive nice and slow as she was slightly annoyed that her evening had been interrupted, but didn’t want to make things worse with the Golden Fangs. She still had to talk her way out of the Chloe situation, after all.

  She parked up by the inside of Fort Dominia’s gate alongside the gang’s other expensive vehicles, and proceeded inside. The gang members she passed by greeted her, and some joked that she was in trouble for being late. Genie didn’t like the sound of that and upped her pace. Unsurprisingly, she found Seth in the War Room, along with Gaius, Archie and Chaz.

  “Where the fuck you been?” Seth asked loudly. He eyed Genevieve’s tight red dress eagerly and took the edge off his tone. “Where’s Chloe at?”

  Genevieve began her best sobbing and continued crossing the room towards him. “It was terrible…”

  Seth awkwardly took her in his arms. “What was?” he asked in confusion.

  “She’s dead!” Genevieve cried, hammering Seth’s muscular chest as he embraced her.

  Archie ran a hand through his gold highlights. “Oh shit, no way!”

 

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