by Karen Dales
Fernando could only gape as the Angel turned to continue their journey. Fourteen hundred! His mind boggled at the antiquity of this vampire. If the Angel was that ancient, how old was his sire? His eyes widened further realizing that Katherine captured probably one of the oldest and strongest of their kind. His mouth still open in shock, Fernando shut it with a click and followed, taking the lead once again.
They walked in silence. The time crawled by. Row housing dark with sleeping occupants gave way to others where lights still flickered, and syncopating rowdy laughter joined boisterous music. Parties where money was as disposable as the champagne they drank. Defoliating trees reached skeletally to a velvet black embrace, searching for the moon that danced behind thick speeding clouds destined to unknown places. Cabs for private use lined the lanes. Sleepy drivers longing for their comfortable beds slept in their cabs or chatted congenially with each other, while others chose the comforting company of their horses.
The two Chosen walked unnoticed, watching everything around them.
Turning down yet another lane, he found his patience dwindling. How long have they been walking? Pulling out his pocket watch, he flipped the engraved golden lid. Half past two! He snapped it shut and put it back in his pocket. This was going on too long. Wherever Fernando was leading them, they could do it at a much faster pace and he decided to ask where they were going, a question he immediately kicked himself for not asking earlier.
“I have to deliver the bad news to someone who can possibly give us an explanation for Sebastian’s current state.” Fernando patted the pocket where the phial was securely tucked away. A grin painted itself across the Noble’s face into something maniacal. “I think you are going to really like it there.”
“Is it safe?” he asked, not knowing the answer, whether positive or not, would ease the sudden anxiety Fernando’s tone evoked.
“Well,” mused the Noble, “mostly safe. Don’t worry. Would I let anything happen to you?” Turning another corner, he led them down into a cul-de-sac lined with three story detached homes.
He could only stare at the Noble, rejecting the statement immediately, yet allowed him to be led away by a most anxious and surprisingly, happy, Chosen. This in itself seemed to be a paradox, considering the news Fernando had conveyed. Shaking his head in disbelief, he came to stand beside the Noble now halted before the flagstone path to a very large home with most of its lights still on.
Preening off any dirt from the journey, Fernando motioned to his partner to follow him to the door. “Come on, we don’t have all night.”
He fell in behind as the Noble lifted the large brass knocker and let it fall with a resounding bang.
Nothing happened and then a loud clunk of a lock being thrown back replied, followed by the squeak of the hinges as the door opened to reveal the head of a brunette girl of about twelve.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we are closed.” Her voice was small and nervous and her hazel eyes darted anxiously back and forth between the two strange men.
Fernando frowned, unused to this type of treatment. “Look dearie, it is obvious that you are new here, but I am an old close personal friend so take your pretty little ass and get her, now!”
The girl gasped in astonishment as the dark haired stranger easily forced the door open and strode in, the hooded man following close behind. She did not need to be told twice and darted towards the back of the large parlour, her sheer lingerie fluttering open to reveal soft pink curvaceous flesh.
“Madam!” she yelled in near hysterics. “There’s two strange—”
“Do not fret, Juliet.” A petite young woman, in the blossom of youth, dressed as if to receive an expected lover, walked from the kitchen. Her long blonde hair fell in waves that framed her china doll face. Ice blue eyes sparkled with satiated pleasure. “I know this dashing young man.” Her voice was lascivious, made even more so by her thick French accent. “But I do not remember if he ever had such a tall friend.”
Staring into the comforting darkness of his hood, the Angel wondered why he had considered trusting this rogue. To be brought to this whorehouse made him very uncomfortable, evoking memories he wished never to remember. Memories of being used and using others to fulfill a need he denied until Notus put a stop to it.
Fernando’s smile returned at the opening of the familiar game. “And I do not remember you ever checking up on me or my associates.”
Shocked at the reference to himself, he shot Fernando a look of surprise.
Fernando ignored the glance and gazed at the three nubile young women lounging on the plush deep furniture cascading the modern Victorian décor, recognizing them instantly as Chosen working the house. Judith, Anna and Beth each returned his smile.
“Someone has to keep an eye on you,” stated the Madam, her sheer white shift slipped off one shoulder as she slinked over to the Noble, revealing soft pale perfect skin.
Fernando’s eyes lingered momentarily on her alabaster neck before being drawn to her shapely breasts outlined in white silk.
“I see that you are keeping an eye on me as well,” she laughed, a sound like morning birds.
“Ahh, but my dear,” replied the Noble, huskily. “You are so much better to keep an eye on.” He ran his hand from her neck down her chest to cup one of her perfect breasts, her nipple hardening under the soft fabric.
His unease growing, the Angel turned his gaze from the sight of Fernando and the Madam, feeling suddenly the intruder.
The Madam allowed Fernando’s hand to linger and returned his smile. “Yes, that is true.”
“And where is that infamous female hospitality you girls are supposed to offer?” Fernando asked, removing his hand.
“Please forgive me,” she mocked, undoing the elaborate cloth hook on his cloak. The heavy material fell into the awaiting small arms of Juliet now standing behind him. Awkwardly, she folded it and laid it on the red velvet chair beside the door.
Leaning down, Fernando brushed the Madam’s blonde tresses away from her ear and whispered, “I brought you a little surprise.”
Confused, she frowned; a sight that did not take away from her delicate beauty, only enhanced it.
“And don’t forget my friend here,” added Fernando, speaking openly.
With a smile and a nod, she walked over to the tall stranger standing in the middle of the room, her professional smile back in place. “You must forgive me, monsieur. Fernando has again left me to introduce myself.” She shot an annoyed glance at the Noble.
Fernando stared back, unimpressed.
He took a hasty retreating step as the Madam raised her silky hands to unfasten the ancient clasp of his cloak, his heart pounding at the idea of being exposed.
“Let me be the proper hostess, s’il vous plait?”
Trap sprung, he tilted his head and held his breath, reluctantly allowing her to try to undo the clasp. Her frown increased as her balance on her toes made her fumble on the Celtic styled broach. Not being able to let her embarrass herself, he took over; his hands brushing hers caused her to smile for real.
He did not want to take off the cloak – to reveal himself. He felt safe and secure in the draping that hid his unusual colouring, but he also knew that it would be rude to stay undercover. Notus had taught him that much.
Hesitantly, he turned the broach as the woman stated, “My name is Bridget, and this is my home, and you are?”
The clasp released its hold on the material allowing the cloak to fall from his shoulders into Juliet’s waiting arms, revealing his long white hair and ruby eyes. He swallowed nervously, waiting for the reaction that always went with this revelation.
“Oh my!” exclaimed Bridget, her smile widening to reveal her lengthened incisors and canine teeth.
The others gasped and stood up at the sight of the legend standing in their midst, giving credence to the rumours they had heard. Juliet backed into the door with a thud, her mouth gaping open and her eyes wide with fear, his cloak forgotten on the ground
.
“Bridget,” introduced Fernando, a mischievous smile curled his lips, “meet the Angel.”
“I – I am so very pleased to finally meet you,” she stammered, offering her hand. “I have heard so much about you.”
He peered into Bridget’s eyes that now seemed to sparkle without the help of candlelight. Movement caught his attention and he glanced to see Anna, Judith and Beth slowly moving towards him. The sight of their near nakedness made the pit of his stomach bottom out. Glancing back to the snickering Noble, he brought his attention back to Bridget, noticing her hand for the first time. He was trapped in a den of hungry lions.
Noticing the panic in his eyes, Bridget’s smile softened and she lowered her hand. “Do not fret,” she soothed. “You are safe here.”
Clearing his throat, he willed his voice to work. What came out was controlled by the nervousness he felt. “Fernando said that…that you may have…um…some information.”
The three girls circled closer, like vultures waiting for him to die.
Bridget glanced over to the Noble, her brows furrowed in wondering. “What information, mon petit chou?”
It was obvious that she was disappointed, but why? He did not even want to hazard a guess.
The smile left Fernando’s face at the mention of the pet name, to be replaced by a scowl. He crossed his arms over his chest. “O Grande Puta, we need your infinite wisdom,” he implored sarcastically.
Blue eyes smouldered and she barked, “Vas t’en!”
At first the Angel thought she meant he and Fernando, but the girls jumped at her order and quickly vacated the parlour, their bare feet whispering up the stairs. Little Juliet needed no further encouragement to sprint after them, her feet thumping loudly.
“I’ve told you before, don’t ever call me that!” shouted Bridget, spinning around to face the Noble. Her silk shift swirled around her body as she turned towards the couches and sat down.
“Fine,” stated Fernando. “As long as you drop that phoney accent. We’re not customers, Bridget.” He landed heavily in a plush burgundy chair set across from her, leaving the Angel standing.
Shifting in her seat, Bridget spoke to him, her accent gone. “You must excuse my fledgling” – Fernando scowled – “please sit.” She patted the brocade beside her.
Bridget was Fernando’s Chooser? He blinked at the revelation. It seemed they did not even like each other. Shaking his head to clear it, he moved to sit nervously beside the nearly naked Chosen. The pale curve of her breast plainly evident under the plunging neckline made it difficult for him to tear his gaze away.
Despite his hesitancy, Bridget smiled at the way he moved, like a predator, lean with sinewy strength. She laid her small delicate hand on his. “Now, tell me why the Angel has deigned to appear at my humble abode. And it is not because Fernando thought you would like to sample my wares. Though how you and he know one another still eludes me.” Her eyes locked onto his large expressive crimson eyes and smiled. No one had ever told her that the Angel was beautiful.
Disgusted at the spectacle, Fernando stood up. “That’s enough!” he stomped up before her like a petulant child.
Languidly, she turned her head to stare up at him.
“You want to know why we’re here? Here!” Fernando fumbled with the ring on his finger and dropped it into her lap.
The ring was heavy yet Bridget twirled it around a slim finger. The recognition of the signet made her gasp.
“Where did you get this?” she exclaimed, standing up. Even though she was shorter than the Noble she was still able to stare him down.
“We found it.” His dark brown eyes shadowed over. “Or more to the point, it found us.”
“Where? Sebastian would never take this ring off.” Her voice rose in volume and power.
“He didn’t,” taunted Fernando, obviously enjoying his Chooser’s growing anxiety.
“What are you talking about, Fernando?”
He just smiled, his eyes alighting with something more sinister.
“Stop playing with me,” ordered Bridget.
“I took it off his finger after his dismembered arm was dumped at my feet.” Fernando ignored the accusatory glare. “Such genius is now lost, the likes of which we’ll never see again.”
“He…he’s dead?” Her eyes widened in disbelief.
Fernando hitched a shoulder.
Staring down at the ring hanging heavily around her finger, she murmured, “He would never take this ring off. He said he would rather die first.” She shot her head up to glare at the Noble. “You’re lying. This is all some elaborate hoax. Some disgusting trick to—”
“No it is not.” The Angel’s voice was soft, yet penetrated the tension. He recognized the fear in Bridget’s eyes as she shifted to face him, and understood it. Anger mixed with fear and sadness. Loss. He could not allow Fernando to play with her any longer. “Fernando does not lie.” He stood, towering over both of them. “It is as he stated. Only you know for certain if Sebastian is dead.”
She stared up into strangely sympathetic eyes; her own shimmered with unshed tears. She had heard of the Angel and shared in whispering the stories, but none had revealed what she saw in his eyes.
With a nod she closed her eyes and opened herself to connect with her Chooser. It had been so long since they were intimate this way, but the connection had always been there for her to follow the threads back to him if necessary. This time there was nothing. No hint of his presence. No sense of his feelings. No words of his thoughts. There was nothing. He no longer existed.
Gasping at the disconnection, Bridget opened her eyes. Ignoring Fernando’s bemused expression she hastily wiped her eyes with a trembling hand. “I guess I should have expected as much,” she murmured. “I never thought I’d feel this way about him. Will you feel this way when I’m gone, Fernando? I think not. Oh, don’t look so hurt. Remember, I know how you feel about our relationship.”
“And you never let me forget it,” snorted the Noble. He began to pace, uncomfortable with her reminder.
“How did Sebastian die?” she asked, refusing to be diverted into Fernando’s semantic games and brought her attention to the Angel who stood strangely still.
“I thought you might know,” snapped Fernando. “After all, you’re Sebastian’s whelp.”
Her eyes froze over. “Just because he is…was… my Chooser, does not mean I know everything about him, and just because I’m yours does not mean you know everything about me. Now, if this was the reason why you came, you can leave.”
“No, we’re not done. I want to know what Sebastian was into that got him killed.”
“What do you care, Fernando?” exploded Bridget. “You only care about yourself.”
“True,” smiled the Noble. “And it is for that reason that you are going to answer my question. What was Sebastian up to?”
“Alright,” she sighed. “You might as well sit. I don’t want to get a kink in my neck.”
“I knew you cared about me,” gloated Fernando as he retook the chair, leaving a surprised and confused Angel to sit on the couch with Bridget.
Shooting a scowl at her Chosen, Bridget began, “Several months ago Sebastian came over. I thought it extremely strange that he didn’t want to go with one of the girls and instead wanted to sit and talk with me, something he had never done. He seemed edgy, very worried, definitely not himself. I would have thought him scared to death if I hadn’t known him better. Can you imagine it, Fernando? Sebastian afraid?” The Noble shook his head. “So I opened myself up to him – something I do not like to do – and found a terrifying fear. I asked what was wrong. He wouldn’t say because he didn’t want to endanger my life. My life. I was astounded. He actually displayed genuine affection, something I had never experienced from him. All he said was that if others came after him I should dissuade them. Then he left, saying he had to go. When I asked him where, he mumbled sadly, ‘I miss fish,’ and left.” She glanced from Fernando to the Angel.
“Do you know what he meant?”
The Angel shook his head, frowning at her words.
“Did Katherine summon Sebastian to her?” asked Fernando.
Staring at the ring held in her lap, Bridget pouted in thought. After a moment she lifted her head. “Why yes, come to think of it, he was summoned.”
“When?” pressed the Noble.
“I believe it was about a week or two before he last came to me. Why?”
Staring at the rug, refusing to meet Bridget or Fernando’s eyes, the Angel sighed. Because if he was summoned for the same reasons as us, then she was telling the truth and someone is killing the Chosen, and we are probably their next targets.
Dismissing her question with a wave of his hand, Fernando continued. “Did Sebastian tell you Katherine’s reasons?”
Bridget shook her head, confused as to where this was leading.
Taking the phial out of his vest pocket, Fernando tossed it to his sire. “Do you have any idea what this is?”
Bridget frowned at the little glass bottle and its askew label and opened it, taking a whiff before the Angel could stop her. The smell exploded into the room, causing Bridget to swoon.
Trying not to breathe, the Angel quickly stoppered the bottle.
Bridget came to with a choked gasp. “What is that stuff?” she coughed.
“I had hoped you would have been able to tell us,” said Fernando, unconcerned with his sire’s collapse.
“I’ve never smelled anything so horrible. Why do you ask?” She waved a hand at the phial now in the Angel’s possession.
“It was in Sebastian’s grip.”
Bridget shook her head in dismay. “He must have gotten it after he left me. Why would anyone do this to Sebastian? Oh, don’t tell me. I know how he could be. But to kill a vampire of his age? What is going on Fernando?”
With closed eyes, the Noble sighed and told her about the poisoning of the blood supply and how he and the Angel were forced into finding out the culprits of the caper.