by Sophia North
By law, the council had to wait a minimum of thirty minutes before commencing with a Meet to allow interested Lowerton members time to access the chamber. A fact Vlad decided not to remind Dante of at that particular moment given his friend's already stretched temper.
Amazed by how quickly the Gallery had filled, Vlad shifted in his chair to watch the latest arrivals enter. All sorts of vampyres congregated in an eerie silence, as if sensing something remarkable was about to occur. And as fate would have it, they were not going to be disappointed.
When the Elders finally arrived, their disorganisation further incensed Dante. It had been a long time since a Watcher last called for an Emergency Meet and no one seemed to be quite sure how to commence.
Dante remembered one of the last things his father had said to him before his disappearance. They had been having another slightly heated argument about politics when he'd made a comment about how slow the Council seemed to react to problems.
Strangely, his father partly agreed and said: "The problem is, the last couple of centuries have been a time of peace and prosperity like never before."
"And why should this be such a problem?" Dante had asked.
"Because like an over-indulgent spirit, the Council has become lazy."
These words floated around Dante's mind as he now watched them try and organise the Meet.
Tradition decreed seven Elders sat on council, including the Grand Elder, the most powerful vampyre in Lowerton. After this, in terms of influence, came the First Elder, then the Second and so on. Only three Elders, along with Grand Elder Rolfe, were currently presiding over Lowerton.
Eventually Sixth Elder Wilhalf, the former Grand Elder of the empire until he'd stepped down, finally got things on the right track by banging his fist on the table in front of him. And within moments the growing mutterings of the Gallery were silenced.
Thank fuck for that. Dante's patience was beginning to wane.
Grand Elder Rolfe rose from his throne and nodded in appreciation at Wilhalf before turning to his audience. A short, round-faced vampyre, Rolfe was known for his open, relaxed nature. These qualities had helped him become elected Grand Elder.
"This Emergency Meet has been called by Watcher Polidori. In these situations urgency is extremely vital..."
"A fact which I'm struggling to believe ... ," Dante muttered at Vlad.
"But I must remind everyone patience is also required," Rolfe cast a quick eye in Dante's direction, indicating his comment had not gone unheard. "And so we should hear everything Watcher Polidori has to say before jumping in with our own opinions. Watcher Polidori, the floor is now yours."
Dante moved to the podium, took a deep breath and began his testimony.
"Consiliarius magnam, honourable Elders," he said, bowing slightly, "I believe many of our fears and suspicions are on the verge of becoming reality."
A loud murmur of voices rippled around the Gallery in response.
"Silence!" shouted Rolfe.
But the discussions and arguments only increased. Eventually the ancient Wilhalf stood and glared around the coliseum. The noise quickly receded.
"What do you mean?" queried Elder Simmons, waving his bony hands in the air. "To whose fears and suspicions are you referring? Or do you believe you speak for us all?"
"Of course not, Third Elder," responded Dante, trying his best to not be antagonised by the cunt. "First, allow me to explain the context for what I am about to report. If Council recalls, a fortnight ago the Watchers reported on the growing number of murders by what we assumed is a Ripper. Well, the scenario is much the same – two weeks later and humans are still being killed."
"We are all aware of this, Dante," reprimanded Rolfe, "Do you have any evidence as to who is responsible? We can only cover up so many of these deaths before news filters out and humans rightfully become alarmed. And the last thing London needs are suspicious humans...this Rogue must be caught!"
Dante took a deep breath. "I believe there is one vampyre who can explain what's going on – Anton."
A great roar rose from the Gallery and Dante heard a couple of vampyres accuse him of treachery. Dante noticed Wilhalf staring at the ground, as if he had foreseen this coming and could not face the consequences.
"Be careful, Dante," warned Rolfe, as the noise died down. "I hope you have more to back this claim."
"As you are all aware I inherited my father's visionary powers."
"Your father's loss is still keenly felt by us, Dante. One of the reasons we offered you his place on Council was because of your gift," Elder Simmons interrupted, with a show of false sincerity.
Dante stiffened at Simmons' mention of his father's 'loss'. It was rich coming from the one who'd openly derided his father's attempts to discuss the possibility of the Haan prophecy's validity. The vampyre was a fanatic when it came to preserving the power of Lowerton. He and his followers refused to drink any blood, human or otherwise, and as a result they had slowly withered into grotesque husks. Any talk which could result in the overthrow of the current power structure, be it by Haan prophecy believers or other internal rebellious factions, was treason in their eyes.
"Very well, then I am here to report I had a vision last night. In it Anton spoke to me of his belief in the Haan prophecy and the need to depose the human race..."
Suddenly, pandemonium broke out and Dante was unable to continue. He'd obviously touched a nerve as disagreements could be heard all over the place.
Dante looked again at Wilhalf and noticed him shake his head. He was still staring down at the floor and Dante found his continued silence frustrating. Of all the remaining Elders, he believed Wilhalf would be the one who'd support him. But still the old vamp did nothing, said nothing.
Once the noise quieted, Rolfe stood up. "As Grand Elder, I believe we need time to deliberate on what course of action to take. We will assess Dante's claim and conduct our own investigations. But let me be clear, Fifth Elder Anton is not on trial. Without hard evidence, he is accused of nothing."
"No!" shouted Dante, "There is no time. We must act now!"
"Do not attack the decision of the Grand Elder, Dante," warned Simmons, disdainfully narrowing his eyes. "Remember, Anton is still an Elder and must be accorded all due respect by one such as yourself."
"What is wrong with you?" Dante roared in protest. "Don't you see Anton is deranged? He believes in the prophecy and is intent on fulfilling it! I didn't want to accept it either but we have no choice."
"It's no use, brother," Vlad advised, placing a hand on Dante's shoulder. "You're only making things worse."
"Worse!" shouted Dante, shrugging Vlad's hand away. "What's worse than humans dying because our world is so blind it refuses to see the truth when its staring us right in the face?"
Another roar of dissent broke out from the gallery.
"I suggest you take your friend home before he finds himself in more trouble than he is currently in," Simmons advised Vlad. "We do not appreciate conspiracy theories and emotional outbursts. The lesson of his father's demise should indicate Dante needs to choose his next steps very carefully."
As the tension in the Council Chamber teetered dangerously towards violence, Vlad gripped Dante by the arm and pulled him from the fray. "Come on, mate. We need to get the hell outta here!"
Chapter Nine
"THANK YOU FOR reaching out, Bob. You raised some interesting points and I'm sure I am not alone in wishing you well with your next phase in life," Simone said in conclusion to her current caller.
Glancing at her screen, she saw it was time for a news bulletin. "We're approaching quarter past midnight and if you've just tuned in, tonight's subject is about suffering from the loss of a loved one and how grief can manifest in many different ways. After a short news break, we will continue with calls from those of you willing to talk about how a recent loss may be affecting you...and I may able to help you find solutions. And now it's over to Richard Williamson with the headlines."
&nb
sp; "Thank you, Dr. Radcliffe. Topping the headlines..." the news reader's voice faded away as Simone muted him from her earphones.
"Doc, the lines are on fire tonight," Jack said in her ear. "Keep up the good work!"
Smiling her thanks at his encouragement through the glass window where he sat overseeing the operation, Simone spun in her chair to take a moment away from his view.
Each time a new caller's name was displayed on her screen tonight, she had held her breath hoping it would read Dante or even 'D', should he decide to remain somewhat anonymous. But sadly, no such call came.
Dante may be an avid listener but that was no guarantee he'd ring up. Many didn't. But still, she had hoped maybe he would.
"You're back on Simone...in five...four..."
Simone turned back in her chair to see Jack finish the count with his fingers.
After receiving the thumbs-up to indicate the next caller was on the line, she glanced at her laptop for the pertinent details and said, "Now, our next caller does not want to reveal his identity and so we're to simply call him 'A'. He recently lost a friend and is calling to see if we can offer him any help. Hello, A, thanks for reaching out."
"Thank you for having me, Simone. I always find your show...enlightening."
The man's voice was calm and Simone could not detect any emotion. "I'm glad to hear you enjoy the show. Now, tell us about the reason for your call."
"It's to do with a very close friend of mine," 'A' replied, "he recently died. However, I don't mean in a physical sense."
Simone glanced at Jack in his booth and raised an eyebrow. Jack nodded to confirm the caller had seemed fine when he'd prepped him.
"I think one or two of us may have a problem understanding what you mean," returned Simone, "Could you clarify it for us, please?"
"Why certainly. I hope your listeners enjoy a good story. Once upon a time my friend and I used to be close. Very close, like brothers, in fact. When we were young you could hardly separate us. And as we got older, we naturally went down our own paths but would still be there for each other when needed. Like brothers," the caller repeated. "But then he fell in love and things changed."
"How do you mean?" asked Simone, struggling to work out where the man's story was going.
"Well, it was no secret I didn't particularly like the woman. But she was important to my friend, so I tried my best to accept her."
"How very gallant of you. What didn't you like about her?" Normally Simone would not indulge such a noticeably disturbed caller, but there was something familiar about his story and she wanted to know more.
"Let's say ... she wasn't to my taste," 'A' replied. "But like I said – I did my best to accept her. Then something tragic occurred."
"Which was?"
"She was murdered."
"Murdered?" Simone gasped.
"Yes. And without going into details, all I can say is my friend was obviously devastated."
"I'm sure he was," Simone mumbled, uncertain how to respond.
"I did my best to console him and help him through the grieving process. I gave him time, lots of time."
"Time for what?"
"To come back to us."
Simone felt more than a little confused and noticed Jack scratching his head before he shrugged at her again. "I don't think I understand," she finally responded.
"Oh, I think you do, Simone. You see, he became an outsider and by deserting us, I lost my best friend. By becoming a Watcher again he betrayed his birthright."
"Dante," Simone muttered before realising what she had done.
"Yes," replied the caller, "I know he's visited you, Simone. He's a lost cause. You cannot help him."
"I'm afraid I can't talk about private clients on the radio," said Simone, giving Jack the cut-off signal.
But the caller remained on the line.
"You can't get rid of me so easily. We are much more powerful than you can comprehend. The reason I'm on this stupid show is because I know he will be listening."
Simone stared at Jack, who was desperately banging and striking his computer. Eventually he looked up and in a panicky voice shouted:
"I can't cut him off!"
"I don't know how you're doing this," Simone challenged, "But if you have something to say to your friend, you should do so face-to-face. Not publicly."
"Oh, spare me the lecture, you pathetic human hypocrite!" 'A' exclaimed aggressively, sending a chill down her spine. "Dante – hear me! I know you're out there listening to this pathetic little show. Things that bad, eh? You must be desperate. But whether you like it or not the Age of the Vampyre is dawning. The Great Haan said it would and so it shall be. If you won't join us, then you will die! If you won't join us, then you will die!"
The line then went abruptly silent.
Simone sat stunned by what had just happened. Through her headphones she heard Jack screeching at her to go to an advert break and in a surprisingly composed voice she announced:
"I apologise about our last caller. Anyone who listens regularly knows we occasionally get someone intent on spoiling the show. So let's all have a moment to compose ourselves - I'll be back in a couple of minutes after this short message from one of our sponsors."
Simone looked at Jack and he stared back, a worried expression on his face.
"This is bad," he said from his booth, "They're going to be really unhappy about me not cutting him off. I just don't know what happened."
Simone, now speechless, turned away from Jack again.
Was 'A', Anton? And if it was Anton, did this mean...was it conceivable he really was a...
No, it was ridiculous, she silently reprimanded. Dante suffered from a personality disorder, nothing more. He was running from something and, like most people, it was probably himself.
"Simone, you're back on!" she heard Jack announce loudly.
With a deep breath, she slid her headphones firmly into place. Only just over half an hour to go, surely nothing else could go wrong tonight.
Chapter Ten
"DANTE, WAIT! WE need..."
Dante never heard the end of Vlad's sentence. Once topside, he had but one objective: to put as much distance between himself and Lowerton as possible.
Immediately.
Otherwise, if given the opportunity, he'd happily smash all evidence of its existence from the planet. Archaic, incompetent - out-of-touch. They deserved whatever they got from now on.
"For they sow the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind."
The Bible was clearly onto something with that bit of wisdom.
Dante raced through the streets, the need to release his pent up anger driving him to go faster and faster. Finally spent, he took refuge in a small leafy garden square.
Hunched over, trying to catch his breath, Dante allowed the peacefulness of his natural surroundings to soothe his temper. He shouldn't have been surprised by the Council's failure to act, his low opinion of them was not without merit. They failed him time and again - Zara's murder, his father's disappearance - but he'd really believed his vision would spur them to change their approach to the Haan prophecy.
How could he have been so naive?
Finally at ease, he pulled his mobile phone from his pocket. Checking the time, he realised he could catch the end of InsideOut and moved to a nearby bench to sit down and listen.
Ah, sweet Simone. How he longed to see her, touch her - walking away last night took a monumental exertion of will power. He knew to continue would have placed her further in harm's way, and as much as he wanted her, he could not risk her life for his own selfish needs.
But at least he could still listen.
Dante slipped his earbuds into place and flicked to the InsideOut's app on his phone. After a moment of buffering, the stream started to play.
"Dante – hear me! I know you're out there listening to this pathetic little radio show. Things that bad, eh? You must be desperate. But whether you like it or not the Age of the Vampyre is dawning. The Gr
eat Haan said it would and so it shall be. If you won't join us, then you will die! If you won't join us, then you will die!"
Shocked by Anton's audacity to air his plans publicly, Dante sat frozen in place, slowly digesting what had just happened. Even though Anton's performance validated everything Dante had just told the Council, his first reaction was not one of vindication. It was fear.
Anton knew about Simone. She was in danger.
Panic coursed through him. He must protect her at all costs.
Unsure exactly where he was, Dante rushed from the sleepy garden square into the streets, until he found himself standing outside of Harrods on the Kensington High Street.
Once again, Dante checked his phone for the time. The show ended in fifteen minutes. Madly scrolling through the station's website, he searched for information on its whereabouts.
He found it listed on the Contact Us page and breathed a sigh of relief. The studio was in St. John's Woods, twenty minutes away at the most.
Without a second thought, he set off in a shimmer of speed.
SIMONE MANAGED TO get through the rest of the show without any further mishaps. At least that's what she liked to tell herself.
The fact InsideOut's live stream comments were full of listeners debating the 'A' incident, along with Jack's ever increasing agitation in the booth, totally contradicted her optimistic stance.
After signing off, Simone put her headphones down on the desk and sighed. Rubbing the back of her neck, she turned to leave only to find her producer, Jack, entering the studio. His face was etched with anger over recent events.
"Jesus, the bosses are going to want our heads after tonight," he complained.
"It wasn't too bad..." she tried to reason.
"Wasn't too bad!" he yelled. "Do you have any idea what the repercussions might be? We could find ourselves out of work. Oh wait, one of us already has another job. How could I forget, when it was one of her nutty clients who phoned in?"
"Take it easy, Jack," Simone snapped, getting out of her chair. "The caller is not one of my clients and never has been."