Age of Vampyre Series Box Set

by Sophia North

  Then there was Haan, lying on the bed seemingly oblivious to everything going on around him. She noticed he'd lately appeared to be more solid. The strange flickering of his body had ceased and even his breathing seemed more measured.

  Shouldn't she do something? She knew her father mentioned fire being the only means to kill him. If only she had his cigarette lighter she could set the room ablaze.

  She glanced back at Haan and involuntarily shivered. His black hooded robe made him appear especially sinister. And the way he was fading in and out of existence had slowed. He definitely looked as though he was closer to returning back to life.

  Gunshots rang out again from outside the room and in response she grabbed hold of the door handle. She couldn't hide in here any longer. What if her father needed help? And Alessio. What of his fate? If he didn't receive blood to heal soon, he'd surely end up dead.

  With a deep breath to calm her nerves, Simone hesitantly turned the door handle. But the sound of rustling fabric made her glance back at Haan again.

  Fear turned the blood in her veins to ice. Haan was staring at her! Two monstrous red eyes gleamed horribly from his face. A grizzly smile revealed yellow fangs, which he touched with a shaky hand. His smile grew even larger.

  Simone, frozen in shock at the door, watched in horror as Haan began to crawl to the edge of the bed before dropping like a stone to the floor. He was still too weak to stand up, but she knew instinctively his inability to do so wouldn't last long.

  "Simone," he hissed at her, "so glad you've made it. I was worried your invitation to join me here may have been missed."

  Scared and confused, Simone tried to be brave. "If one was presented, I was unaware of the gesture."

  The image of the blue light suddenly flashed in her head.

  "Ah yes, now you begin to see. But, sweet Simone, what you have yet to comprehend is that your freedom from the cell 'twas not my opening salvo with you," he rasped, inching closer to her. "Why in fact, this dance of ours started centuries ago, with an odd allegro tempo thrown in to quicken the pace."

  "Clever words, daemon. Too bad I don't care to be anyone's pawn," she returned with conviction.

  "Oh but Alice, as Vlad explained to you so prophetically - even a pawn can become a Queen. My Queen!"

  Repulsed by the very thought, Simone lashed back. "I'd rather be dead than yours!"

  "That, my lovely bride, can be arranged should you prove unworthy."

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  DANTE RAILED AT Simone as she taunted Haan, warning her to run, save herself. Yet, he could not stop what was unfolding.

  "Wilhalf, you bastard! Why are you doing this to me?" he raged. But no answer came.

  Accepting his abandonment, Dante knew it was time to start thinking and stop feeling. Unchecked emotion was the reason for his current predicament. If he'd not given into Haan's seduction, he'd be free, able to act. Instead, here he was, trapped as a disembodied spectator and powerless to save Simone from her fate.

  Haan's fucked-up "My Queen!" declaration, immediately tuned Dante back into what was happening.

  "Are you, sweet Simone? Worthy of the honour to be mine? Tell me, have you known another?" Haan questioned her menacingly.

  He wanted a virgin bride? How unfortunate for him. "Many, for the record, I'm quite the slut," she informed him happily.

  Haan laughed low and with a certain evilness. "My poor pet, I care not how many men you have been with. How amusing, you are."

  Simone swallowed back a small shriek, as the mangled, grotesque form of Haan advanced closer towards her, slithering like a snake.

  Relishing the repulsion he spied in her gaze, Haan continued, "It is evident your cherry has yet to be plucked. No female would give human lovers a second thought once...hmm, how do these times like to put it? Fucked by a vampyre's immortal cock," he remarked vulgarly.

  Inching further back, Simone hit a wall. He had her cornered.

  Grasping the arm of a chair, Haan hauled himself up to stand before her. "Which is good news for you, Simone. It means you are worthy to be the mother of my children - and such powerful offspring they will be - all worlds will bend the knee."

  "No Simone, don't. It's what he wants..." Dante cried, unheard by the room's occupants.

  "Oh, you meant vampyre lovers," she replied innocently. "Well in that case there was one...Dante."

  Haan howled in rage and rushed at her. His yellowed fangs extended, he sank them deeply into her throat and started to feed.

  At that moment, the door to the bed chamber burst open. In its frame stood Alessio Polidori, fully recovered thanks to Horatio's agents, who'd given him their lives in the line of duty. Tossing Samsun's severed head into the room, it rolled across the floor and served as an excellent distraction.

  Haan stopped feeding to follow its path.

  "Dante, I know you can hear me! I won't fail you again, son. Take the fight to Anton. Haan dies now!" his father commanded with authority. He raised a bow with a flaming arrow and released it. The arrow penetrated the ancient vampyre's heart and set his body alight.

  THE LID OF the coffin didn't just blow off - the entire box exploded. Splinters of wood were blasted everywhere as Dante rose to hover above the carnage.

  The bodies of the fallen littered the coliseum. Scanning the chamber, Dante found Anton. He had Vlad, who appeared to be one of the last vamps standing, pinned to one of the pillars.

  Anton's head turned slowly to look in Dante's direction. The exploding coffin, no doubt, gave him pause for reflection.

  With glowing red eyes, he stared up at the hovering vamp. His mouth dripped with the blood of those who'd rebelled against his tyranny.

  "Brother," he called out, "I see you are much changed. Our Master chose well with us, wouldn't you agree? Come - finish your transformation. Kill this pathetic vamp we used to call friend." He tossed Vlad in Dante's direction.

  "I think not, Brother. For as we speak, your puppet master burns - damned into the bowels of hell from whence he sprang. As for the final act? Well, that belongs to me!"

  Dante flew at Anton who, realising Dante’s intent, rose to meet him in battle. Their two bodies clashed in the middle of the coliseum, mid-air.

  At first, they were evenly matched with each successfully slamming the other around the chamber, much to the amazement of those still alive to view the exchange. Yet, as the battle continued, something within Anton started to change. His strength began to desert him until eventually he could no longer withstand the punishment Dante inflicted.

  As for Dante - he fought like a vamp possessed. Every moment of pain, of suffering he'd experienced since the beginning of this crazy ass roller-coaster ride was released. The climax came when the image of Haan sinking his fangs into Simone was the only one he could see through his rage.

  With his grip firmly on Anton's throat, he tightened it gradually, taking immense pleasure as the blood gurgled from his grimacing lips. "Where is your fucking god now, Anton? Yeah, that's right he was nothing more than a false prophet - a charlatan with claims far above his station. And that evil fucker has paid the price for his arrogance. Any last words...I believe your ticket is about to be called?"

  Dante tossed Anton to the floor, rising above the cowering upstart to await his final words before sending him to warmer climes. Anton's stringy golden hair, matted in blood, dangled around his face, obscuring it from view. His shoulders heaved from the exertion of their battle.

  Slowly he raised his head, his eyes danced with merriment, his mouth twisted into one of his deranged grins. In his hand, he gripped a silver dagger, the light catching its surface, the glint alerting Vlad to the danger posed to his unsuspecting best friend.

  "Dante, take this - he has a dagger! End him," Vlad yelled, tossing Dante his sword at the same moment Anton sprang.

  With a single swipe of the sword, Anton's head was severed from his body. The force of the blow sending it flying until it hit the massive oak doors and fell to the floo
r.

  The sound was immediately echoed by an almighty thump on those same doors - then another came, and another until they sprang open to reveal a pack of werewolves who howled menacingly as they ran into the Council chambers.

  The pack came to an abrupt halt once the carnage of the room sank in. The lead wolf howled at his pack, as if commanding them to stay, and walked on his own towards the last two vamps alive in the wreckage.

  Dante looked askew at Vlad. "You made an alliance with the mother-fucking Lang's?"

  "Shit, brother, of course I did," Vlad drawled. "They may be cunts but when one is at war with insane, determined-to-take-on-the-world types, a vamp can't afford to be picky." Vlad patted his friend on the shoulder. "And don't ask - you know better than anyone how well I negotiate. Marcus agreed to rescind any mistaken claim he had on Simone's hand in marriage. See how much I care, mate? I expect to be best man, by the way."

  The fog of war now lifted, Dante reacted immediately to Simone's name. "Brother, I must go. Simone was attacked by Haan. My father..." His voice trailed off as he saw his father walk into the chamber, cradling Simone's body in his arms. Blood tears flowed freely down Alessio's face.

  "No! Simonnnneeee!"

  Dante’s wail of outrage filled the coliseum, the corridors of Lowerton, the streets above until it reached the heavens. The heartbreak heard in his cry would make even angels weep.

  Chapter Forty

  DANTE COULD NOT be reasoned with. He refused to accept Simone was lost to him. His love could not be dead, he wouldn't allow it.

  Entombing her body in the music room of his house, he'd laid her out on a granite altar draped in a sheer linen sheet. Its presence the only concession he'd allowed to adorn her body, other than the pure white chiffon dress he'd had made especially. It was an exact replica of the one she'd worn in his vision from the labyrinth at the chateau.

  For days he remained locked in the music room with her, playing Mozart, Beethoven, Bach. Long sorrowful pieces that he filled with cries for salvation and pleas for her return. Yet, there were darker moments, when he played works expressing vengeance and betrayal to elicit all the suffering he felt.

  At the top of the Revenge list he'd compiled whilst in the throes of grief was Wilhalf, whom he coined the 'ultimate betrayer' for his part in Simone's loss. If the ancient vamp had revealed the truth as soon as he suspected Haan's return, Dante would have never taken the risks he had with her life.

  In close second on his notorious list, was his father. A surprising addition some might argue, but his acceptance of Grand Elder was a bitter pill for Dante to swallow. He'd lost all faith in the Vampyre ruling structure. And his father's decision to take leadership of the mess felt like yet another betrayal by establishment.

  News of Haan's prophecy nearly coming to fruition circled the globe, and was not without repercussions. Rebels still loyal to him were wreaking havoc in Europe and North America, convinced their great liberator was not defeated. That his demise was nothing more than speculation by those who feared him. But this belief was delusional. Haan was gone.

  The pile of ashes found in the Grand Elder's bed chamber, with the silver arrow head, proved his resurrection had failed. These remains were gathered and put on display in the coliseum.

  Encased behind glass upon a stone shelf, the silver arrow head, amazingly preserved from the inferno, was embedded in the wall above the ashes. It's head pointed upwards in victory and lit by an artfully placed eternal flame. The flickering light caught it's silver surface spectacularly.

  In the end, the only souls Dante let near him, or Simone, were Penny and Horatio. The pair were staunch supporters of his theory she was not truly lost. Her perfectly preserved body showed no sign of decay, which to them meant there was still hope her present condition was nothing more than an elaborate enchantment. An effect brought on by her fae blood, a possible loophole in the story of her fate.

  Together, Horatio and Penny, poured over the books in Dante's library - searching for any evidence to support their claim. Yet after days of reading volume after volume, they were still unable to find even the vaguest mention on how they could reverse her current state.

  Days turned into weeks, until the blood moon's eclipse was to be mirrored by its solar one. The new moon's role in the event would prove to be significant.

  A new moon heralds the start of a new cycle. Yet when combined with the darkening of the sun, it also brings an end to another sequence long set into motion.

  Alpha and Omega - the beginning, the end - an ouroboros eating its tail. The great cycles in the sky mirror themselves in the world below - and so it goes for both man and vamp.

  The shattering of glass resonated through the house, as Alfred rushed into the main hall, calling for Dante. "Boss, boss! You must come immediately. Simone...it's Simone!"

  Dante flew from whatever corner of the house he had been pacing to stand at the threshold of the music room. It's doors were cast wide open to reveal Simone's shrine.

  The pure white peonies Alfred had brought to replace the one's beginning to fade, littered the floor. They had been abandoned in haste, because of what he'd discovered.

  Simone sat upright, still draped in the delicate linen Dante had so lovingly placed over her. Falling to his knees, Dante wept in spontaneous joy at the sight.

  Once able to control himself, he rose and flew to her side. "My darling love. Is it really you? Are you really here with me?" he asked in a hushed tone of worship, pulling off the sheer sheet covering her.

  Simone turned her beautiful blue eyes to him. "Dante, why I am lying on an altar in the music room?"

  Dante clasped her face in his hands and drew her lips to his for a long lingering kiss. Yet, as their lips met, he quickly drew back to stare into her eyes. "Love, your lips are as cold as ice. Do you realise what this means?"

  "You need to adjust the thermostat in here?" she innocently replied, running her hands up his firm chest in invitation. "Or you could continue what you started and warm me right up."

  His revelation could wait, he needed to kiss her, make her his. Capturing her lips, he crushed her against him, wishing it were possible to take her completely into himself, to encase her next to his heart where he knew she would always be safe.

  The taste of his tongue plundering her mouth sent shivers of delight through her. The sensation was on a scale she'd never experienced. Carnal hunger for Dante dominated every part of her being and without thinking, she flipped him onto his back to straddle him on the altar where she'd awakened.

  Startled by her own strength, she drew back in alarm.

  "Dante, what is wrong with me? How was I able to do this to you?"

  Ah, timing! Why did he and Simone always encounter so many inopportune moments? He was rather enjoying her ravishment of him and loathed the idea of answering her. The conversation might mean it could be hours before they'd get back to their passionate reunion.

  Maybe if he... Dante started nuzzling her neck, pressing kisses down her throat while cupping her full breasts in his hands to tease her nipples with his thumb.

  "It's fine, love. Go with how you’re feeling - I promise you are incapable of harming me."

  With the way he was making her feel, Simone was almost tempted to give in. Almost. Pushing him gently away, she made up for it with a long final kiss.

  "Tell me the truth, Dante. What happened to me? What do I need to 'realise'?"

  Dante sighed and gathered her into his arms. His head resting on top of hers, he toyed with a strand of her blonde hair, trying to find the right words to explain the unexplainable.

  "Why don't we start with you telling me your last memories and I shall fill in the blanks?"

  Simone closed her eyes to replay whatever her mind could conjure.

  "My father rescuing me...fire, smoke...a bedroom...oh god, it's Haan. I am trapped in a room with Haan. He's alive, crawling across the bed...he's attacking me, drinking my blood! He's killing me."

  Dante pulle
d her closer to try and calm her shaking body. "That's right, love. But it is all over. Haan has been destroyed - he will never harm you again."

  "Did I die? Am I dead?... am I...a...vampyre?"

  "Yes, sweetheart - you ascended. Not that it was a conventional transformation. I guess the best way to explain it is to say you've been in between planes of existence for two weeks. Most think you are dead."

  Simone turned her confused eyes up to him. "But I am half fae, not vampyre - how was I able to ascend?"

  Dante chuckled. "Only you, my good doctor, would choose now to try and delve into the details. Perhaps, you can humour me and accept the simple answer that it was thanks to your combined bloodline, for the time being. There is something much more important I want to tell you."

  Simone decided to be accommodating. "Well, as I now have an eternity to seek answers - I'll give in to your proposal."

  "Interesting choice of word, love. For there is another proposal I'd like to make. Simone Radcliffe, you know how much I love you. Would you do me the honour of being my wife?"

  "Dante Polidori, heart of my heart - my answer is yes, a thousand times yes!"

  The End

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  - The Tower -

  AoV Fire Trilogy - Book II

  To the common-as-muck black & white with champagne tastes...

  ...on a starving artist's budget.

  Time to work your Magic!

  Prologue

  New Year 2019

  London

  THE CRUNCH OF HER HEELS on the icy pavement echoed as Penny teetered along the abandoned streets of Southwark. Still drunk from the New Year's celebrations, she hadn't considered the cold when informing the cab driver to drop her off after they'd crossed Tower Bridge.