by Sophia North
Chapter Sixteen
"TAINTED BLOOD. IT'S fucking brilliant," Vlad declared, lounging in his chair, smoking a thin cheroot cigar. Naked from the waist up, his back had completely healed thanks to Simone's clean blood in his system. "But we are none the wiser of its purpose or who the fuck is behind it."
"Seems straightforward to me. Infected vampyres are weak vampyres - whether they know it or not," Dante remarked cynically. "And, of course, there is the added benefit of having an excellent trigger at the ready, should any potential threats rise up."
Simone swirled the amber liquid of her third bourbon of the night. Fortitude was required after their ordeal. The gouges in Dante's beautiful hardwood floors were going to take some buffing to remove.
Vlad was an incredible force to be reckoned with even without him being jacked on bloodlust. It was a wonder that Dante had been able to pin him down at all.
"You believe blood is being weaponised against vampyres, why?" Simone asked.
"Should a rebel group of vamps try to fight off an oppressor, any wounds inflicted will create a bloodlust that will either: a) drive them to a permanent grave through madness of the want of blood and their refusal to drink. Or: b) force them to try and feed on humans in order to survive. Which, cunningly, leads them to the same grave once caught and executed for the crime," he explained. "As for the culprit - my money's on Anton, or whomever pulls his strings, given the timing."
"Mate, you're fucking dark. Spot on, but still...dark. Thank god you're on our side," Vlad said.
"Machiavellian techniques are no great mystery if one makes the effort to read," Dante replied sarcastically, knowing Vlad's reluctance to do so. "Speaking of sides, who is left to stand with us?"
"I'm not sure, is the honest answer. Anton and his supporters stormed the coliseum and murdered Grand Elder Rolfe in the midst of a gathering of vamps for an emergency council meeting. I couldn't believe my luck - saved me the trouble of calling a 'Meet' about the tainted blood situation. Little did I know it was nothing more than an elaborate ruse to get everyone in one place for the upcoming coup."
"Are you certain the meeting was a hoax? Perhaps news of the tainted blood had been uncovered and was about to be reported?" Dante parried.
"Hard to say. It's possible, but the way Rolfe was acting as we waited doesn't give me much hope on that score. He was laughing and joking with others, like he hadn't a care in the world. There is no way he knew about the blood situation, I don't care how seasoned a Grand Elder is - that kind of news is not taken lightly."
"I agree," Dante conceded. "What happened after Anton murdered Rolfe and Elder Marcion?"
"He claimed the title on the spot, declared Lowerton under his control," Vlad replied, "and was in the process of setting up his new Council, when my refusal to be Third Elder ruffled his feathers a bit - hence my imprisonment."
"He offered you Third position on Council? Who are First and Second - Fry and Laurie?" Dante proposed humourously.
"Good vamps, bit on the bumbling prat-side of the spectrum of possible candidates - but I think that's your point," Vlad quipped back. "However, if you find the offer extended to me hard to fathom, you're never going to believe who is Second Elder."
"Go on," Dante prompted.
"Simmons."
Of all the possible names Dante may have come up with, this was the last one he'd have picked. "The same sick fuck who calls for the execution of all prophecy believers – that bastard?" Dante spat out in disgust. "Why would he join Anton? They represent diametrically opposed positions on the Haan Prophecy. It makes no sense."
"Sense?! Mate, you said it the other night. The Council ceased with sense months ago. We should have seen this coming," Vlad decreed.
"No one could have foreseen Simmons' role in what's unfolded - even my vision only revealed Anton's possible involvement," Dante countered. "But that piece of shit's lust for power must be truly depraved to stoop so low," he finished disdainfully.
"I hear you, brother. I fucking hate career politicians," Vlad snorted in agreement.
Dante changed the subject. This debate was taking them off-course and they needed to focus. "Do you think many were able to escape the slaughter?"
"I know some used the old rear exit to flee Lowerton. Anton must have forgotten about it. At least, I found no evidence of his guard having been there on my way out," he replied. "Dante, there are vampyres who have only ever lived inside Lowerton roaming the streets of London with nowhere to go. It's a ticking fucking time bomb. Made worse by this tainted blood bullshit."
The thought of centuries old vampyres on the loose in twenty-first century London was not a comforting one. "We need to find a way to get word out about what's happening in the vamp community. Maybe recruit a few heads," Dante ventured. "Do you still have your contact in the Hive?"
"She may be a bit pissed with me, but let's see how it goes, shall we?" Vlad shimmered to the telephone and picked up the receiver. "Roxy, sweetheart, just the lady I was hoping to connect with," he greeted charmingly, his deep voice easily heard by the pair at the other end of the room.
Simone leaned over to whisper, "I wanted to ask you about the whole vampyre telecommunications system ..."
Dante held a finger to his lips and touched his ear to signal to Simone that Roxy could hear them. She nodded and said nothing further.
"Steady on, love. I wasn't flirting with some bird called Penny tonight. Ginger is having you on - you know she's the jealous sort and carries a bit of a torch for me. Silly thing - I only have eyes for you, my foxy Roxy," Vlad crooned into the phone.
If not for preternatural hearing, Simone might have gagged listening to Vlad sweet-talk the operator. The Viking really had no shame when it came to the opposite sex. He tried to seduce every female he came into contact with, and no doubt, was successful more often than not in securing their affections.
"Off soon, excellent ... sure I’ll meet you for a quick drink ... alright, sweetheart. See you in an hour."
Vlad hung up the phone and rejoined them. "Well, that takes care of communications. Roxy will run operations for us inside the Hive. She has her moments, but ultimately can be trusted," he proclaimed. "Anton may have taken Lowerton but there are many who will oppose him and remain loyal to the old Council. A fair few left in search of Wilhalf before things got really ugly in chambers. Hopefully they escaped with him out of the old exit."
"Wilhalf survived?" Dante asked eagerly. The ancient vamp had once led Lowerton as Grand Elder until he retired after overseeing a huge expansion of prosperity and centralisation of Lowerton's power. No one was sure exactly how old he was, but there was no other who rivaled him in years as far as anyone knew.
If anyone would know the finer details of the Haan prophecy, it would be him.
"I'd bet money on it," Vlad opined, "Anton's frustration at not being able to find him was certainly epic. Second only to his reaction over your fortunate absence."
"The old vamp knew," Dante murmured absent-mindedly.
Vlad ignored his friend's remark. Wilhalf's existential knowledge of events were of no use to them now and he needed to move forward with his story. "There's something else."
Vlad’s tone sounded ominous.
"There's more?" Simone asked incredulously, unable to remain silent any longer.
"I told you it was fucked up, love," he gently reminded her. "But here's the cherry: Anton is possessed," Vlad announced gravely.
"Damn, it is as I suspected," Dante muttered, recalling Anton's deranged looking face from his vision. Possessed suited his appearance perfectly.
"When the fuck were you planning on sharing your suspicions?" Vlad demanded, angered by Dante's prior knowledge. "Might have come in handy to know before I encountered his imbued-with-freaky-powers new self."
Dante realised his mistake. "Circumstances accelerated so fast, I barely had time to process everything - and I'm still unsure what it all means. Brother, I did not intend to keep my suspicions from you - i
t just happened," he explained.
The genuine regret in his confession soothed Vlad's temper. "Fair enough, I know you've been wrestling with your demons lately and didn't want to press you about shit," he allowed. "Also, to be fair, I knew the rumours circulating about Anton and chose to ignore them. Believe me, I won't be making that mistake again."
"You and me both, brother," Dante agreed. "Now, explain these new powers of Anton's you mentioned."
Vlad shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "A strange fire burns in his eyes - it's like nothing I've seen," he began, "and his strength, he was able to kill vampyres as easily as swatting flies. Like I said before, I was convinced he was going to end me at one point but he had other plans."
"Why did he allow you to leave?" Dante asked.
"Because of you, mate. He wanted me to pass along a message."
"Well?"
"He's willing to offer you First Elder, to welcome you into the fold...have you rule alongside him. Claims that together, you and he will usher in the new age," Vlad replied. "He wants you to come to Lowerton for a Meet - guarantees you will be free to leave no matter if you choose to agree to his terms or not. Personally, I think it's a trap. He knows you'll never join him."
"Perhaps," Dante conceded, "but it is also an opportunity."
"You can't possibly go!" Simone cried out, unhappy with his direction of thought. "Vlad's right, it's a trap!"
"Yes, Admiral," Dante answered suavely, unable to resist the Stars Wars reference. "But Anton holds all the cards. To launch some kind of counter-attack we need time. And maybe I could buy us some time by agreeing to meet with him."
"Don't be ridiculous, he sounds utterly mad! And I should know, I'm the bloody professional in such matters," Simone declared, but no one was listening. Typical males - always looking for an angle despite the risk it carried.
"No, Dante's plan has merit," Vlad countered. "You could pretend you're interested in his offer and use it to our advantage to discover any weaknesses in whatever the fuck he is planning."
"Also," Dante added, "I feel very strongly that Wilhalf is alive. He can help us more than anyone. We must find him."
"Agreed. Wilhalf's knowledge about Haan and the prophecy is second only to the scrolls in the vaults of the Great Archives. And thankfully, unlike them, this knowledge will again be accessible to us once he is located," Vlad declared. "He must be found."
Pleased by the progress they were making, Dante decided it was time to take things to the next level. "I think I should try to use my visionary power again. It might cast more light on things." He turned to Simone and asked. "I'll need your help, are you willing?"
Without hesitation, she responded, "If I can, it is yours for the taking."
Dante nodded in appreciation and returned to his friend. "Vlad, you need to move. We need Roxy to get the Hive operation up and running immediately. Have her reach out to all our key contacts, arrange some meetings - but most importantly - she must get word out about the blood bank situation and alert others to watch out for and assist Lowerton's refugee vampyres."
"I'm on it, mate."
"And, don't forget to put on a clean shirt. Foxy Roxy might have some standards," Simone teased at first, before continuing in a more serious note. "Be careful out there, Viking. My friend Penny will insist on calling you an asshole to your face. It would be a shame if your untimely death deprived her of the pleasure."
With a knowing smile, Vlad paused on his way out the door. "I did say your lady friend's affections would stray once she'd spent some time with me, brother," he reminded Dante. "And by my estimation, I'd say her heart's halfway mine already."
The Viking bowed in her direction, "Dr. Radcliffe, I bid you a fond adieu. Try not to let my friend seduce you whilst I am gone. I'd hate to lose the race."
Chapter Seventeen
"YOU KNOW THIS may not work," Dante confessed, sitting at one end of the long, leather couch with Simone at the other. He'd insisted on the distance, knowing he could become quite animated in his trance state. "Even with assistance, I'm not always able to access my visions."
"After what Vlad described, we must try," Simone replied firmly. "Is there nothing more I can do to help you? Talking seems...inadequate under the circumstances."
Dante contemplated his next words carefully. There was another option but he was unsure whether he wanted to try it, let alone ask it of Simone.
Simone sensed his hesitation. "Tell me, is there something else I can do?"
"It's unconventional," he eventually replied. "Highly so. I've only ever been told about the...technique."
Her cheeks flamed involuntarily. There was something sensual, forbidden, in the way he spoke that caused her body to intuitively respond.
"Why continue to pretend anything about our relationship is conventional? Tell me, what does this technique entail. Whatever it is, I'm up for it," she boldly declared.
Dante rose to the challenge. "Then come to me, my beauty and I'll do better...I'll show you."
Drawn like a moth to a flame, Simone slid from her position and was soon standing in front of him. "Now what?" she breathlessly asked, admiring how relaxed he looked lounging on the couch.
"Take my hand."
Simone rested her hand in his.
"Join me."
His hand steadied her, as she straddled him and slowly lowered herself onto his lap. The beautiful sundress he'd gifted her, fanned out to cover their intimate position.
Simone gasped aloud once she'd settled.
"Ah yes, it seems I may have been remiss in providing you with all your feminine needs," he whispered seductively in her ear. "How thoughtless of me."
Simone smiled in return, enjoying the feel of his growing trouser-clad erection against her nakedness. "Surely you've wondered ... wanted ... to know what lay beneath?"
"My imagination has run riot, I assure you, Dr. Radcliffe."
Feminine pride coursed through her, it was exactly what she wanted to hear. "So, here I am. Now what are you going to do with me?" she asked, staring into his smoky grey eyes.
Dante ran his finger tips up her arm to gently grasp her neck and draw her closer. His warm breath replaced the sensual feel of his fingertips as his lips hovered along her throat while he made his way to her ear. "Many, many wonderful things, my beautiful Simone. Soon..."
Her breath caught in her throat. His promises would have to wait. "Yes, I will hold you to it. But first, we have work to do."
"Alfred, go." Dante commanded. The raven and his cage immediately simmered from the room. Taking Simone tenderly by the neck, he rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone. "I need you to trust me again."
Simone softly nuzzled her cheek against the palm of his hand. "I do."
Dante tilted her neck to the side, released his fangs, and sank them deeply into her outstretched throat. Moments later he drew away from feeding on her and fell back in what appeared to be a mild trance.
Live human blood did wonders for someone with his capabilities, at least according to Lucretius - an old vampyre sage who'd wrote on the subject in ancient times.
"Things are hazy," he muttered. "Not sure...can't see anything..."
"Just relax, the images will come," Simone soothed encouragingly, her heart still racing from the feel of his fangs in her throat. "Take some deep breaths, slow your heart rate."
"Yes...must slow everything down," he murmured, "...all will become clear...must be patient..."
Within a few seconds, Simone's encouraging voice was replaced by a loud 'whooshing' sound. A strong wind blew against his face as he passed through a wall of mist that turned out to be a cloud.
He was flying. Soaring in the bright, blue splendour of a sunlit sky. It was an incredible feeling.
After a quick descent, London appeared below him, passing by at an incredible pace. He recognised a few old monuments as he swerved past taller buildings and the odd skyscraper.
He was not really in control. Something else guided him safely al
ong. He was nothing more than a passive observer and the knowledge did not unnerve him at all.
The landscape gradually transformed from urban to rural and Dante felt unsure of his exact location. The sky darkened slightly and the white clouds turned grey.
The speed of his flying decreased dramatically. The fields and small woodlands below appeared unruly and ill-managed with no fencing or pathways. He passed low over a dilapidated stone farmhouse, before a dark, foreboding woodland came into view, as he flew above the tree line.
Something about the landscape seemed familiar. He flew back and forth over the same fields and woodlands trying to get his bearings.
Slowly, it became increasingly darker until the trees looked like giant shadows. Dark figures moved below but he could not make them out. They shouted incoherently at each other, obviously fighting, with an occasional scream of pain heard between blows and clashes of swords.
Determined to get closer, Dante attempted to direct his flight towards the ongoing fracas below. And was quickly punished for his effort.
Sucked from the woodland battle by a ferocious force, he was hauled back to hover above the old, stone farmhouse once again. There was a large hole in the roof and through it he noticed a small fire burning inside with a hunched figure sitting beside it.
In a muffled voice, the figure called out his name: "Dante! I know you're up there," the voice croaked. "The time approaches for you to seek me out."
Dante attempted to call back but when he tried to speak nothing came out.
"Come!" the voice repeated again before the fire suddenly fizzed out, as though a pale of water had been thrown over it.
Everything went dark.
Dante opened his eyes.
"You're back, thank god. Are you alright?"
Simone's concerned face slowly came into focus.
"Yes," Dante replied, blinking slightly. "I feel relatively well compared to how I usually feel." He reached out and gently traced the nearly faded bite marks on her throat. "You used the crystal to help heal you. I hope I didn't hurt you too much."