by Sophia North
"Months, I guess. Why is that important?"
"Because she is in very serious danger," Darius answered, back on his feet and pacing the room. "She is in violation of a direct decree of Council. No genetic testing of vampyres is permitted."
Penny relaxed. For a minute there they'd started to frighten her. "Well, it is a good thing I’m human."
"It does not matter. Where there is smoke, there's fire. Yours will not have been the only blood she's tested. But the worst of it is, her results are wrong," Vlad announced gravely.
Penny's heart pounded in her ears. "I don't understand what you're saying. Simone is brilliant, she can't be wrong. I am ninety-nine percent human according to her test."
Vlad shook her slightly to bring her out of her state of astonishment. "Penny, you are most definitely capable of bearing vampyre children. I know it."
"No, Simone is never wrong. The science proves she isn't," she argued.
He pressed her firmly against him, cradling the length of her body against his own. "The science is not exact, love. You know that."
Penny stiffened. Too much had been said between them tonight for her to take comfort in his arms. "I need to get out of here. Now."
"Okay, baby. I'll take you home," Vlad agreed, as his growing concern over her reaction became more pressing.
"No," Penny said loudly. "Darius, will you please take me home? I am yours now, aren't I?"
Darius's shock at her decision registered briefly on his face before he quickly masked it. "Of course I'll take you home, Penny. But you are not mine, yet. I cannot claim you once I've asked to Court you. The rules do not permit it."
"Fuck the rules, Darius. And fuck you too! I told you to back off," Vlad boomed.
"Come along, my dear. Vlad's starting to get testy," Darius cajoled, taking Penny's arm to gently pry her from Vlad's side. "Oh, and before I forget, the reason I stopped by was to remind you our meeting's been moved to three. I'll deal with you then."
Vlad stood speechless as he watched Darius lead Penny out through his own door.
Too fucking right ‘deals’ would be done later. Right after he took Darius's smug fucking grin off his face.
Three o'clock couldn't come fast enough.
Chapter Fourteen
VLAD PACED THE HALL outside the Starr Chamber, counting down the minutes until Darius dared to show his face. His 'brother' had some explaining to do and he'd be goddamned if a fucking Council meeting came between him and getting some answers. The council could wait until he was done.
The sound of a jaunty whistle danced down the hall. It's source had yet to come into view, but Vlad knew it was Darius. Within seconds Vlad had him inside a small antechamber and pinned to a wall, his merry songbird melody silenced.
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Vlad hissed. "If not for our bond of brotherhood, you'd lack the tongue required to plead your case to me."
"Fucking hell, Vlad. Release me," Darius rasped hoarsely. "I cannot very well explain shit like this."
Vlad released him. "Talk, fast."
"You should be thanking me, brother," he muttered, rubbing his throat. "You were in some serious fucking trouble back there. If I hadn't stepped in to help your sorry ass out, Penny may have walked out of your life forever."
"You call claiming my Mate as fucking help? Forgive me, but your logic escapes comprehension."
"Please. My 'claim' has simply moved matters along between you and Penny. It's been nearly a year and it's pretty fucking obvious you've yet to bed her properly. Clearly, you need help. Penny is one fine woman and shouldn't be wasted."
Vlad stepped in menacingly. "What happens between Penny and I is none of your fucking business. You have until midnight tonight to rectify your misplaced, and to be frank, totally fucked up sense of loyalty. End your claim of Courtship over her."
"And if I don't?" Darius challenged, his eyes flashing.
"Then we will be enemies and I'll take your head in order to end it."
"You can certainly try, brother. And I don't much care for your tone. So listen up, I'll only say this once. For as long as Penny wishes, I will protect her...even if it's from you. Because let's be frank, you've lost your fucking mind at the moment."
"Hear ye, hear ye," a page called, ringing a bell in the hallway. "Starr Chamber proceedings begin in five minutes."
"Stop acting like you're her fucking knight in shining armour," Vlad returned. "You know Penny has nothing to fear from me."
"You think not," Darius rounded on him. "How about the pain and eventual self-loathing this love you propose to lavish upon her will bring? Has that thought ever crossed your mind?
Vlad shifted uneasily. He didn't like where Darius was going with this.
But Darius wasn't about to back down. "Sure, you'll keep her safe, in whatever gilded cage you eventually trap her in. And for many years, decades even, she will delude herself into believing your life together has been incredibly fulfilling. But eventually the truth will scream from every wall you share. Every jewel and trinket you adorn her with will feel like the chains that they are. For in the end, she will realise there will be no legacy to pass on. Nothing created from all the love that you've shared. And she'll hate you for it."
"And so what? You think she will want to bear your children? You heard her, she doesn't even want them herself."
Darius straightened his coat. "Maybe, brother. But at least I will be open to the possibility, should she change her mind. That's not an option you can offer now, is it? If you really felt any love for her, you'd set her free."
"Three minutes to Starr Chamber proceedings. All Elders required," the pages cried again.
Shaken by Darius's words, Vlad backed down. "Fuck, it's the vote," he muttered.
"Yes, about that. I think we can both agree, that despite our current differing opinion, you need to change your position to 'yes' at tonight's vote," Darius informed him.
"How do you know..."
"Save it. We don't have time for the inevitable protracted discussion you'd want to have on the matter. If the restriction on genetic testing isn't lifted, Simone will be tried and executed when her research is discovered. And we both know, that is only a matter of time. Do you want to be the one to tell Dante you're responsible for the death of his wife?"
Another gut punch from the arrogant prick. He was on fire tonight.
"I'll not warn you again. End it with Penny." Vlad stalked off to take his place at the Council table.
AN EERIE ATMOSPHERE swirled inside the Starr Chamber that night. The Elders were unusually subdued in their discussions. Except Godfrey. He was always subdued.
"If that brings all new business to an end, we should move on to our next vote on the matter of genetic testing. Gentlemen, please cast your ballots."
Vlad looked down at the crisp white linen paper upon which two words were written. Yes or No. It should have been a no-brainer. He understood the stakes only too well. And yet, he still hesitated to make his mark.
His time in the Great Archives 'researching' the Terrors had revealed truths about the era he'd never known about. Being part of the Last Brood, meant he was one of last vampyres ever bred, and therefore, not around to know the truth about what had actually gone down prior to breeding being banned.
Sure, he'd heard stories about how vampyres had pushed the limits of procreation to dangerous levels during the 1600s, but they barely scratched the surface of the depravity of the times.
It was well-known that many vamps were lost in the years following the execution of Haan, but Vlad had been shocked by how high the numbers actually were. By his best guess, the entire population of Lowerton had been exterminated between 1517 and 1550. A fact unknown to the general populace, and yet, crucial to understanding the root cause for the Terrors.
Without the heavy losses sustained in those years, the pursuit of high level vamp production may have never happened, nor the subsequent civil war between those committed to keeping the numbers growing and
those vehemently opposed to actions required to ensure they did so.
Full out revolution didn't start until 1666, a year of such infamy many still shudder at the mention of it. London wasn't the only capital to be inflicted by fire that year. Beneath its streets, Lowerton burned as well, but with a different type of blaze altogether. The fire of ideology and revolution was unleashed and it took until 1719 for it to be extinguished permanently.
At least, that had been the case until the Serpent Brotherhood reared its ugly head last year during the war between Haan and his followers. The emergence of a secret faction of Haan loyalists had caught the Lowerton ruling elite totally off-guard and were nearly successful in their mission. The resurrection of Haan and dawn of a new age...the Age of Vampyre.
Yet, the Brotherhood were still active and, according to Wilhalf, so was Haan. And so the threat to Lowerton continued.
Sat at the long oak table, surrounded by his 'peers', Vlad gripped his quill pen, willing his hand to mark the spot that would ensure Simone's safety. His hours of reading may have educated him on the perils of unleashing unbridled science and technology in the name of evolution and progress. But be that as it may, he would do what was needed to protect Simone.
Vlad crossed 'Yes'. Folding his ballot, he placed it in the silver bowl at the centre of the table. It was done. Simone was safe.
Alessio collected the bowl once all the votes were cast. Slowly, he opened each one and placed them in front of him on the table. "We have a final decision," he announced. "The answer is 'No'."
Vlad's head swooned. He shook it, convinced he must have been dreaming. "The vote is what?" he asked tightly.
"Four-to-Two in favour of 'No'," Alessio clarified, his disappointment evident.
Vlad stood abruptly. "I'll be in my chambers."
He couldn't even look at Darius. He needed to figure out what the fuck had just happened.
Practically flying through the twisting corridors of Lowerton, he arrived at his door in record time. It was too close to dawn to risk going out, but he needed to do something to release his anger.
And he had the perfect outlet. That fucking iron-box full of Haan's papers he'd finally managed to locate and smuggle out of the archives.
You know you're having a bad night when finding a fucked up magical box, that may contain the answers on how to take down Haan, is a low priority. Dragging the box out from his strategic hiding place under the bed, Vlad carried it over to his desk and plonked it down.
Made of thick plates of iron, held in place by large chunky rivets, the fucking thing weighed a ton. Okay, slight exaggeration there, but regardless, it was not exactly light as a feather, despite its magical ways.
A thick padlock kept the box's treasures locked up tight. And he should know, he'd pounded on the fucking thing for an hour before giving up and shoving it under his bed before he'd gone to have a shower.
Now he was prepared to beat the fuck out of the thing until it finally yielded its secrets. Call it constructive therapy.
Vlad was about to let loose when the sight of the lock hanging open froze him to the spot. He must have done a better job earlier than he'd thought. Fuck, now what? Was he supposed to read away his fury?
Pissed at being denied a much needed release to his anger, a soft knock at his door felt like a gift from heaven.
Placing the box back from whence it came, Vlad hastily straightened the blankets on his bed before going to greet option number two for his outlet that evening.
Please, let it be Darius, he prayed. He was spoiling for a fight. Hell, he'd even be happy with those useless Keepers. They wouldn't last long, but he'd enjoy the brief reprieve smashing their faces would bring.
Hauling open the door for what seemed the millionth time in such a brief time span, he growled, "What?"
Godfrey didn't wait to be invited, he simply barged in, his hands wildly gesturing. Vlad concluded it must be mute for righteous indignation.
Disappointed his visitor wasn't someone he could bodily harm, Vlad waved his hand mockingly. "Evening, Godfrey. Please. Do come in."
The vampyre wasn't amused. He gestured something totally inappropriate for a vamp inclined towards chivalry.
Fishing around in the arm of his flowing robes, which in Vlad's opinion were far too sixteenth century, Godfrey produced, of all things, a book.
Wanting Vlad to take it, he held it up beseechingly.
"Great, another fucking book," he exclaimed, snatching it from Godfrey's out-stretched hand. "Jesus, Godfrey. You really need to get out more." He threw the tome onto his bed in disgust.
Godfrey stamped his foot in frustration.
"Fine. I'll humour you, seeing as this is obviously the first time you've ever called in on someone. For future reference, bring a bottle next time. Booze is a much more appropriate offering when visiting than a fucking book. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent host. Pour us each a whisky and take a seat."
Vlad sat down on his bed. Godfrey brought him his drink before retreating to sit on the only chair in the room.
"Cheers, mate. I've had one fucking headache of a night," Vlad sighed, swirling the amber liquid.
Godfrey tried to smile sympathetically, but with his baby-face, he really couldn't pull it off. He looked constipated as opposed to genuinely sympathetic.
Vlad didn't care. If he couldn't punch something, he'd take solace in drinking until he passed out. This would, of course, require a shitload of alcohol, but thankfully Vlad kept a well-stocked cellar.
"Women," he spat, like the word was a curse. He tipped the fiery liquid down his throat. "Stay away from them, Godfrey. Nothing but goddamn trouble if you ask me. And before you start gesturing, I realise you didn't ask. Fuck off and throw me the bottle."
Godfrey complied, but not without giving a sad shake of his head.
Splashing twice as much as his 'guest' had poured, Vlad settled back onto his bed. Probably not the best place for him to be, given his train of thought.
"It's a fucking tragedy, mate. One minute a vamp's going about his business, all content-like. Fuck who you want, when you want and then, bam! Shit gets complicated when your best friend falls for a human chick. Next thing you know, your friend's chick is asking you sweetly to save her best friend. And she's damn hot, so you think, fuck it, why not? It would be rude to disappoint such a pretty face."
Godfrey groaned. One of the few sounds he could make.
Vlad shot him a dirty look. "Listen, you and I are still getting to understand one another, and I don't know about you, but I think it's going well. However, there is one thing you need to know about me. I hate being interrupted when drowning my sorrows."
A loud sound of lip fluttering emitted from Godfrey, as he slumped in his chair.
Vlad ignored his petulance and pressed on with pontificating about the opposite sex. "Where was I? Oh, yes. Pretty faces. Watch out for women with pretty faces. They'll make you do crazy-ass things, like come extremely fucking close to breaking three hundred year oaths."
The crash of a chair against the stone floor broke Vlad's concentration. Godfrey had taken it upon himself to bring an end to Vlad's rant by banging his chair in frustration.
Vlad was not impressed. "Mother of fuck monk, you could try the patience of a saint. And Godfrey, I am far from being one."
Godfrey didn't back down. He stood glaring at Vlad, pointing at the book on the bed.
"This fucking thing better have the magical capability of solving all my problems or I am going to shove it up your ass," Vlad snapped, grabbing the book to flick through its pages.
Slowing his pace, he looked at it closely. The book was filled with meticulously drawn hand gestures, each with their own finely scripted description. "Is this a form of hand language?"
Godfrey nodded. Emphatically.
Vlad speedily thumbed through the entire book, its contents now committed to memory. "Okay, I'll give it a go."
Forming shapes with his hands, Vlad signed a message to Godfrey
. The vamp replied in kind while Vlad spoke it aloud. "I am not allowed to curse," Vlad translated. "Shame, I was hoping to expand my hand-gestured vocabulary in that department," he replied, confident in having learned enough to hold a conversation.
You do not need to sign your words, I can hear you fine.
Vlad smiled. "I'd prefer it if you helped me perfect my technique. Signing may come in handy some day and I'd like to be fluent. Do you have other friends you sign with?"
I am not here to discuss such matters, Godfrey gestured curtly.
A mute with an attitude. Interesting.
"What are you here to discuss?" Vlad asked.
The vote tonight. Something strange happened.
Bang, bang, bang. "Vlad! I know you're in there. Open this door or I'll knock it the fuck down!" Darius yelled from the other side.
"Apologies, Godfrey,” Vlad said politely, getting up from his bed. “It sounds like a certain son of a bitch wants to join us. Spoiler alert: there may be some blood spilled."
Chapter Fifteen
"WHAT THE FUCK, VLAD?" Darius said, stalking into the room. His caged lion attitude abruptly changed when he realised they were not alone. "Elder Locksley," he greeted formally, using Godfrey's surname. "I’m surprised to find you here, of all places."
Godfrey smiled and bowed, trying to not look suspicious. Unfortunately, his baby face wasn't well-matched for the act of subterfuge.
Vlad watched in amazement as the tall mute attempted to appear nonchalant. Damn, the monk really, really sucked at acting.
Vlad signed at him to stop being so submissive. He was a fucking Elder and Head of the Great Archives, not Darius's inferior. Fuck, this vamp needed some work.
Unable to bear it any longer, Vlad took over. "Godfrey dropped by to reprimand me. It seems one is not allowed to take books from the Archive without his express permission."
Godfrey nodded and looked crossly at Vlad, shaking an accusatory finger. Pathetic. He really needed better improvisation skills.