by Ciana Stone
Layla had never seen anything like it in her life. They must have traveled a good mile through landscaped grounds. Every now and then, in the distance she could see structures.
When they rounded a large turn and the house came into view she gasped. "Holy shit."
Augustus chuckled. "It is an impressive home."
"That's not a home it's a – a resort or hotel or – good god how big is that thing?"
"The house itself is one hundred thousand square feet and one of the largest residential compounds in the United States. It has twenty-nine bedroom rooms, thirty—nine bathrooms, a squash, and tennis and basketball court along with a bowling alley.
"The estate is beachfront property, sixty three acres."
"Holy shit. I'd hate to have to clean that monster."
Augustus laughed. "I can assure you that Asha does not clean."
"No kidding. Damn, she must be rich as Midas."
"And then some."
Layla could scarcely believe her eyes. This was one of those looks inside the life of someone obscenely rich.
The driver stopped and got out to open the door for them. Augustus got out and offered his hand to Layla. She accepted and hung onto it as he led her to the towering double doors at the front entrance.
The doors opened before they even reached them to reveal a woman standing just inside the house.
Layla's legs completely stopped working. Her death grip on Augustus' hand caused him to jerk to a stop.
"Layla?"
She couldn't speak. There were thousands of drop dead beautiful women in the world but she'd never set eyes on anyone whose presence was so immense.
The woman was incredibly beautiful with long flowing hair the color of a raven's wing and the most unusual pale green eyes. Her skin was bronzed like the tone of someone from the Middle East, which seemed an odd combination with those pale eyes.
Her figure was slim but full breasted and she was tall, easily five foot ten.
But it was more than her looks. She had presence with a big fat capital P in huge font size.
As Layla stood there dumbfounded, the woman started toward them. When she reached them, she placed her hands on Augustus' shoulders and leaned in to place a kiss on either side of his face.
"Hello, Octavius."
"Hello, Mother."
Mother! Mother? What the holy fuck? Did he just call her mother? Layla wished that inner voice of hers would be quiet. It was hard enough to digest the revelation without all that screaming in her head.
"Your mother?"
Augustus looked at her and tugged her forward a few steps. "Mother, allow me to introduce Layla Anne Summerfield. Layla, this is my mother, Asha Amar Iltani, Head of the Council of Seven and Queen to all Vampire."
Asha smiled at Layla. "I've been quite curious to meet you. You have, after all, caused quite the stir."
"I have?"
Asha cut her eyes at Augustus. "In a manner of speaking. Come, I will have you shown to your room while I speak privately with my son."
Layla wasn't sure she wanted to be parted from Augustus but she didn't think it wise to argue so after casting one pleading look his way she followed Asha. Inside the house, a young woman in the garb of a house servant waited.
"Alyssa, please show Miss Summerfield to the lilac room in the east wing."
"I'd prefer she stay with me," Augustus said.
Asha's gaze seemed a bit sharp to Layla's eyes, but she nodded her assent. "Very well, show Miss Summerfield to Octavius' quarters and have refreshments brought to her."
"Yes, ma'am. Miss Summerfield, if you'll follow me?"
Layla gave Augustus one more look and he leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'll join you shortly."
She nodded and followed Alyssa, casting one last look over her shoulder. Somehow, she got the impression that Asha was not pleased with her being there. She hoped it wasn't going to cause problems for Augustus.
And why the heck did Asha call him Octavius?
"Excuse me, Alyssa? Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course." Alyssa gestured toward the curved staircase ahead of them.
"Why does Ms. Iltani call him Octavius?"
"That is his name, Miss."
"No, it's Augustus Thurinus."
Alyssa seemed to miss a beat in her step and Layla wondered why. "That is a matter you should discuss with him, Miss."
Oh oh, here we go. So much for the big "I don't lie" thing.
This time Layla agreed with her inner voice. If Augustus had not told her his real name, then what else had he lied about?
All of a sudden, the enormity of it hit her and she wished she had stayed in New York, or gone home to North Carolina – anywhere but here. She was in a mansion with not one but two Vampires, with armed guards and servants that treated Augustus and Asha as if they were …
Oh damn, there were treated them exactly the way you'd expect. Queen of the Vampires and her son.
Augustus wasn't just a Vampire. He was the freaking Prince of Vampires.
*****
Augustus took a seat on the terrace across the table from his mother. She waited while a servant poured them each a class of what was sure to be the purest blood available, bowed his head and departed.
Having spent the last hundred years on the ranch in Texas, Augustus had grown unaccustomed to being waited on in this manner. He eyed the glass but refrained from sampling its contents.
That did not go unnoticed. "Is there an issue?"
"No."
"Then why do you not drink?"
"Not in the mood."
"Oh?"
"Why did you summon me, Mother?"
"You know why. This … human."
"She has a name. Layla."
"Yes, Layla, the human for which you'd put all our people at risk."
"That's something of an exaggeration."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
"I disagree."
"Your prerogative."
"Might I remind you that aside from being your mother, I am also your Queen?"
If there was one thing that rankled him, and had done so for more than two-thousand years, it was that supercilious tone with which she reminded him of her superior status. Were he driven by ego, he would have pointed out it was he who had united the different species of their race of beings. That it was his voice that held sway over the Council; for it was by his word and deed that their respect had been earned.
Were his ego in need of such a boost, he would have pointed out that she was head of The Council only because she was the deadliest and wealthiest among them. Few loved her. Her philosophy on how to rule was based upon intimidation and fear. Their views on how to effectively rule were in diametric opposition to one another.
He believed in being fair and just, in putting the welfare of the many before the welfare of the few.
"Yes, always the altruistic leader, aren't you, Octavius?"
"I strive to be so."
"Adherence to that ideology has certainly not been demonstrated of late."
"You're right."
"Pardon?"
He smiled, knowing she'd expected an argument. Nevertheless, the truth was, he had veered from his canon of ethics of late. Yes, he'd seen benefits in having Layla with them and how her hidden talents could be put to use, but his decision to take her had been far more self-centered than altruistic.
He'd wanted her. From the moment he first set eyes on her something about her had called to him and it was a call he could no more deny than he could the call of blood.
"I took her for me. Period."
Asha shook her head. "I fail to understand. She is far from the most beautiful among human females, or the smartest. She may have begun to achieve a modicum of success with her juvenile romantic tomes, but she is as far beneath you as the earth is beneath the sun."
"She is beautiful to me, and we both know that I care little for more wealth. Should I go on a spending spree this
moment I could not spend all I've amassed in several hundred years."
"I am not inclined to discuss your attraction for this human any further."
"I'm pleased to hear that."
"However, I am inclined to discuss what happens going forward."
"Your tone leads me to believe that you have a plan, Mother."
"Indeed I do. Rather than allowing this relationship to become a hindrance to our efforts with humans, we will, as the humans say, put a spin on it."
"Spin?"
"Why yes, my son. She is, after all, a romance novelist. Therefore, we will make your relationship the ultimate romance. A Vampire Prince and the romance novelist whose passion for one another is so strong they are willing to defy society, risk ridicule, derision and personal safety to be with one another.
"You will marry your romance novelist in the most elaborate wedding imaginable."
Often Augustus disagreed with his mother and would work tirelessly to insure that the rest of the Council listened to reason. This time he offered no argument, but then this time her suggestion fell in line with what he wanted.
At least part of it. Yes, he wanted to marry Layla, but he also wanted to turn her so that her concerns about growing old and him losing affection for her would be eliminated.
"I believe it is customary to propose and be accepted before planning the event, Mother."
"There is nothing preventing you from doing that."
He shrugged and stood. "I'm not sure this is the appropriate setting. We should return home to Texas."
"You can do that in the morning. Tonight I will entertain your intended and win her trust."
"Don't count on it."
Asha chuckled. "My darling have you forgotten who I am?"
"Never."
"That is wise. Now if you'll excuse me, I have matters that require my attention. We will dine at nine."
"Make it seven."
"Seven? Only peasants dine that early."
"Seven, mother."
"Fine."
Augustus watched her rise and walk away. For a moment, he stood there, thinking about her suggestion. She might be right. It could be used to their advantage. He did want to marry Layla. The question was would professing his love be enough if he revealed why his mother was in favor or would it turn Layla against him.
He rose and headed inside. He'd consider that question carefully before broaching the subject but for now, he had to prepare Layla for dinner with his mother.
*****
Layla sat in the old comfortable chair beside the window, the chair the maid said he'd forbidden anyone to discard. Her fingers were flying across the keyboard. She was so focused on what she was doing that she didn't realize he'd entered the room until he spoke her name.
"Oh! You startled me."
"I apologize for the delay."
She closed her laptop and set it aside. "So, how was the talk with your Mother?"
"Interesting."
"In other words, mind my own business."
"I did not say that."
"You didn't have to, Octavius."
Augustus was adept at quickly accessing a situation and in this instance it behooved him to remain silent.
"Well?" Layla stood.
"Well, what?"
She made a sound like a growl. "Damn you, I should have known better."
"What?"
"Than to buy into your act."
"I beg your pardon?"
Augustus knew that his demeanor had changed with the issuance of that question. What surprised him was that she did not back down. Men throughout the ages had cowered when he released the force of his personality upon them and this small woman stood defiant before him, fists clenched and eyes flashing.
"Don't pull that imperial shit with me Gaius Octavius Thurinus. Or should I call you Emperor, or your Highness?"
"You should call me Augustus as that's the name I've chosen."
Layla rolled her eyes. "Whatever. That's not the point."
"Then what is the point?"
"You know damn well what it is. You lied to me."
"I did not."
"Like hell. You most certainly did."
"What lie did I speak?"
"You said your name is Augustus Thurinus."
"It is."
"But that's not the whole story is it? You're … god, I can't believe I'm even speaking these words, but you're Augustus Octavius, Emperor of Rome who succeeded Julius Caesar."
Augustus considered his words carefully. "What exactly is your question? Have I been known by many names? Yes. It is necessary. My kind is, compared to humans, virtually immortal. It is impossible to keep our true identity secret without moving and changing our names often."
Layla blew out her breath and flopped back down in the chair. "Please don't play this game with me. Just be straight. Were you at one time Emperor of Rome?"
There it was. The straight to the point question. He considered it only for a moment.
"Yes."
"Good god. This is … damn, I don't know what this is but it really pisses me off that you lied about it."
"But I didn't." He held up a hand as her mouth opened. "I told you my name, the name I use now and have, in some variation for the last two hundred years. Augustus Thurinus is how I think of myself, Layla. The days of being Emperor are long done – ashes with the rest of the dead from that time."
"Still …"
He crossed the room to her and knelt down in front of the chair. "I do not want to hide things from you, and in time you will know all there is to know about me, Layla. But is that not the nature of relationships? The process of discovery?"
"Have you noticed that ever since we left Texas you don't sound at all like a cowboy?"
It wasn't so much the question that surprised him but that she had noticed it. And more than once. He had lived the life of a rancher for more than a hundred years and had assimilated himself into the culture and environment in which he lived, but there were times when that persona faded to be replaced with what he called his original self.
"I was born into a noble family, adopted by Caesar himself. My education was the finest of the time. I ruled an empire and when the time came, I left. I have studied at the finest universities in the world, traveled the globe, and speak almost every language on this planet.
"I'm accustomed to wealth and power and perhaps that does give me an aristocratic demeanor, but I am, nonetheless, Augustus Thurinus, the rancher and cowboy, the man you fell in love with."
Layla stared at him for a long time, her mind closed so tightly that not even he could breach her thoughts.
"You're right. I'm sorry. I just …"
"What, sweetheart?"
"I – please don't be mad but Augustus, I don't trust your mother. Not as far as I can spit her. There's something – something cold and calculating about her."
Augustus could not stop the laugh that erupted.
"Well gee thanks."
"I'm sorry, I am not laughing at you Layla. I'm laughing because of your remarkable perception. She is my mother and I honor her, but you are one hundred percent correct."
"Then why did you come running when she called?"
"Because of who she is and the damage she can do."
"I don't understand."
It was in that next moment that his decision was made. "Layla, there is something I must tell you but before I do, I want you to understand that I love you. I was willing to risk peace with humans to take you and willing to risk your wrath and that of the Council to keep you. I need you and understand that I don't need. You know who I am, who I have been. I can stand alone through time.
"Or I could. You changed that. I love you and I want to spend eternity with you. I want to have a family with you. I want to marry you."
"Marry?" Her face paled. "Are you serious?"
"Completely."
"Augustus."
That one word slayed him. There was more emotion in those three syl
lables than in tomes written by the masters of literature. "Layla, I love you. Will you be my wife?"
"I…I want to say yes. More than anything. But you know it won't work. I'll get old and you'll – well, you'll be like you are."
"It doesn't have to be that way. Your lifespan can be increased dramatically by routinely taking small amounts of my blood. And should you decide one day to make the change—"
"I'm not ready to go there. Please."
"So your answer is no?"
"It's I don't know. I love you. I do. But this is – this is huge."
"Then I fear you are going to be very displeased at what I have to tell you."
"There's always another shoe isn't there?"
"Excuse me?"
"Another shoe to fall."
"I suppose."
"Then let's have it."
He took her hands in his. "Let me preface what I'm about to say by stating that this is a plan hatched by my mother."
"Oh I know I'm going to hate it now."
Augustus hated that at the moment he felt defeated. It was not his first defeat in life, but it still stung. If she'd rejected his proposal when it was offered out of nothing but love, the chances of her saying yes now had decreased exponentially.
"So?" She prompted.
"So." He released her hands and rose to look out of the window. "It's about us getting married …"
Chapter Thirteen
Looks like August's mother won't have to eat at the pedestrian hour of seven after all. And yeah, it's my fault. I don't do a Katy Kaboom often, but when August told me his mother's plan my first reaction was anger. No, make that foot stomping, find me something to break, mad.
What kind of person wants to make their son's wedding a political maneuver? I wasn't going to have any part of that shit and told him so. He listened to me rant, watched me stomp around and wave my arms and get in his face and even punch him in the chest.
And then he calmly told me that he hadn't agreed to it and the last thing he wanted was for our wedding to be about anything other than our love. But, he added, he did understand. He'd made a bit of a mess of things when he saw me. He kidnapped me and that set about a chain of events that culminated in the fiasco on the talk show.
He needed to make things right. Not for him but for his people. We sat and watched clips online for hours of the interview. Some focused on the attack against him and sympathy was for him. Others supported the attackers and condemned Augustus and everyone like him, calling them demons from hell, abominations, and scourges of the earth that needed to be wiped out.