by Lori Devoti
“Who is your friend, little Marise?” The amused tones of Balthazar drew her attention to him. The Tenebrae Law Keeper was leaning back in a wooden chair beside the table, his dark eyes boring into her. He had always been the only one of her comrades to unsettle her. Quiet, secretive and with a vicious streak a mile wide, he reminded her of what the humans called serial killers. There was a blackness inside him that made him the perfect Law Keeper. Here was a man that no emotion could touch.
“He is my child and elite guard of Venia,” she replied flatly, not letting her feelings come to the surface as they wanted to.
He scrutinised her a moment longer and then stood, brushing his jacket down. He gave a disinterested glance towards Jascha and then left the room.
“Eduard will be ready for us by now,” Vincent said and then walked away.
She looked at Jascha. He raised his eyebrows.
“Friendly aren’t they?” he said with a smile.
“This isn’t the barracks, Jascha. This is the way we are expected to be. This is what it means to be a Law Keeper.”
His smile widened and he pushed her hair behind her ears. She was surprised that he didn’t say anything. She had been expecting him to crack a joke, or reassure her that she wasn’t like the others, she wasn’t heartless as Tynan had told her the other night.
She held his gaze, searching his face for a sign of what he was thinking. He closed his eyes, stealing their light from her world and dipped his head towards her. She didn’t stop him when he kissed her. Instead, she responded in kind, teasing his tongue with her own and showing him that regardless of what happened here today, she loved him and wanted to be with him again.
He broke the kiss and held both of her cheeks in his hands. When he drew back, he was looking at her with so much emotion that she wanted to look away. He held her steady, forcing her to look at him.
“Lubov moya,” he whispered and she melted into the pool of warmth inside her.
She smiled and caught his hands, bringing them away from her face and holding them.
Looking into his eyes, there were so many things she wanted to say to him, but she couldn’t find a voice for any of them. She smiled at him a moment longer and then turned, leading him from the room.
When they reached the small laboratory in the basement where Eduard had taken the body, the others were already discussing the findings so far. She stepped up to the stainless steel table where Eduard was studying a slide of blood under a microscope and then stared at the little machine beside it. She didn’t understand any of it. In his time as a human, Eduard had been passionate about science. In her time as a human, she had been taught to run a household and catch a husband.
She looked at Jascha where he stood by the door. He looked awkward and out of place, not a part of this group but an outsider. She signalled for him to join her, not wanting him to feel as though she had abandoned him. She needed his strength too.
Eduard looked at her and she leaned her backside against the table. She told him everything that had happened down to the very last detail. He frowned a few times, and made the odd remark to Vincent and Balthazar. She tried to keep her attention away from Jascha but her eyes kept straying to him, her hand itching to be in his again, to feel his slim fingers closed tightly around it, reassuring her.
She was glad that Daemon wasn’t here. Of all the Law Keepers, he was the one she most expected to cause trouble about her relationship with Jascha. Natyla would understand her need for love because she suspected that the Nocens Law Keeper had a lover of her own. The lord of Serge’s bloodline, Hyperion, was an advocate of love, regardless of the law, and she knew that in some small way, Serge shared his master’s view.
“Your child is strong and courageous,” Eduard said with a nod of respect in Jascha’s direction. “He deserves recognition for his help.”
She tensed when Jascha stepped forwards.
“I did not do it for recognition,” he said, thick Russian accent making his words sound proud and true.
All three Law Keepers looked at Jascha and then at her and then back again. She took a deep breath and stepped forwards towards Jascha, her hand sliding easily into his and her fingers curling around it, confirming their suspicion for them.
She looked at all of them, waiting for one of them to speak or give her a look that said they didn’t approve of what she was doing. None of them gave an outward sign of disapproval and she was surprised when Eduard smiled.
“The humans have done something to this man,” he said, pointing towards the body on the operating table in the middle of the room. “His blood is different, more like ours.”
“We suspected that someone has been playing god to give the humans an advantage in their fight against us,” she said.
He nodded. “They are unravelling our secrets and must be stopped. We cannot tolerate such disobedience. We must discover the source of this change and destroy all evidence.”
There was a general murmur of agreement. She glanced at the window and closed her eyes as the sun called to her. She was still tired and sore from the fight with the hunter and Jascha needed his rest. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled shyly when she found he was staring at her. Well, he needed rest amongst other things. They did have a lot of catching up to do.
Leading him towards the door, she paused when she reached it and looked back at the room. She thought about what had happened and while she was glad to finally be back with the man that she loved, she couldn’t be happy about the circumstances that had brought them back together.
“I am tired and Jascha must rest to heal his injuries,” she said and Eduard stood, nodding in understanding. “Wake me if you discover how the change in this human has happened. When night falls and we have more evidence, we must contact our comrades and then we must warn the bloodlines.”
She looked at Vincent and Balthazar, her eyes lingering on him longest of all. In his eyes was something she hadn’t seen before.
A trace of fear.
She held Jascha’s hand tighter, needing to feel the connection and know he was there with her. She needed the comfort as she contemplated what she was about to say. It was something everyone here knew, but no one wanted to voice.
“We must warn all vampires that a new breed of hunter has awoken.”
They stared at her.
Marise looked at Jascha, knowing that the times ahead of them were going to be dangerous and lives were going to be lost, and thankful that he would be with her through it all. She would do all in her power to protect him, and she knew in her heart that he would do everything he could to defend her. They would stand together to the very end and into eternity beyond.
Taking a deep breath, she turned back to the room, finding everyone still waiting for her to finally say what was on all of their minds, to name the fear inside all of them.
She straightened out her uniform and stood tall at the same time as her comrades.
“The time has come... sooner than expected. Our duty is written in blood. We must uphold the law and protect the bloodlines. We must see with clear eyes and heart.”
The fight ahead was going to be long and hard, but she would face it with Jascha at her side and her comrades at her back. Together they would eliminate this threat to their species.
“The humans have become dangerous.”
She took a deep breath and pushed the words out.
“A new war has begun.”
-The End-
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Felicity Heaton writes passionate paranormal romance books as Felicity Heaton and F E Heaton. In her books she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons!
If you're a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her bo
oks too.
If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, Felicity Heaton’s best selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series she writes as F E Heaton or any of her stand alone vampire romance books she writes as Felicity Heaton. Or if you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try Felicity Heaton’s new Vampire Erotic Theatre series.
In 2011, five of her six paranormal romance books received Top Pick awards from Night Owl Reviews and Forbidden Blood was nominated as Best PNR Vampire Romance 2011 at The Romance Reviews. In 2012, she was awarded the GraveTells Author of the Year Award, and Heart of Darkness was announced as a 2013 Epic Ebook Awards finalist in the Paranormal Romance category. Many of her books receive five star reviews from readers and review sites alike.
To see her other novels, visit: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk
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Book 4 - Until Death Do Us Part
Kismet Knight, Vampire Psychologist
a humorous mini-story
by Lynda Hilburn
Time: After the events of The Vampire Shrink.
The silence of the empty building hung rich and heavy, pressing against my ears like aural hands. I closed my eyes and breathed for a few seconds, savoring the stillness, allowing my body to relax. Despite the high stress level, I loved my job. I wouldn’t trade it. Being a psychologist was an ideal career for someone who liked to explore shadows and turn over rocks to see what was hidden underneath. Someone fascinated by the unusual, the abnormal. My clientele was unique, to say the least, and the stories I listened to on a daily basis were the stuff of nightmares. Mostly, I rocketed between astonishment and horror
But after a full week of back-to-back clients, I was ready to kick my shoes off and drink a glass – or maybe a bottle – of wine, hopefully, with a certain blond lust object. I smiled as a visual of the gorgeous male in question floated through my imagination.
Fridays were my long day – and night – and by the time I finished updating all my client case notes on my laptop, my brain usually felt like mush, and tonight was no exception. I reread the last entry, progress notes for one of my vampire clients with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and shook my head.
Joseph had been afflicted with the mental health challenge long before his recent conversion to the undead. In fact, he’d been so fixated on the idea of having a disease that made him age quickly, that he’d answered an ad on Craigslist, seeking people who wanted to remain young forever. He got his wish, and then some. But he still stares into mirrors constantly, seeking invisible wrinkles and delusional signs of human aging. Nothing has worked yet to convince him he will remain a perfectly preserved twenty-one-year-old forever. Too bad he still faints at the sight of blood. The notion of a long-term client takes on new meaning when treating vampires.
Remind me why I thought adding these . . . individuals . . . to my private practice would be a good idea? Freud must be spinning in his grave. Sometimes I really wonder what I was thinking. Maybe I wasn’t thinking at all!
Joseph’s case notes completed and saved, I pushed back the chair, and checked the time. Five minutes before Victoria – office manager, resident high priestess and witch – would call to notify me my last clients of the evening were on their way up. Just long enough to stretch and release the faint, underlying tension in my neck and shoulders – an occupational hazard of sitting in rapt hyper-awareness, listening to the weekly installments of personal dramas, traumas and idiosyncrasies.
The full moon shone like a beacon in the clear winter sky, beaming through the wall of windows into my office. Appreciating the light show, I ambled over to enjoy the panoramic view of Denver’s skyline, and beyond that, the majestic Rocky Mountains. Thanks to the celestial brilliance, the scene looked spectacular.
I supposed some good had come from being invited to leave my previous professional address, although it had taken me a while to reach that lofty conclusion. What therapist in her right mind would relish being unceremoniously booted from her building for such a prejudicial reason? So the walls and carpet got a bit stained? Body fluids happen, right?
My current office was extraordinary; a perfect reflection of the artistic sensibilities of the building’s owner – Devereux, my undead significant other. He’d actually collaborated with a designer to align the colors, textures, and furniture styles for my space as part of his campaign to persuade me to move my private psychotherapy practice here. There was just no arguing with a gorgeous, wealthy, ancient bloodsucker.
Soft, inviting leather couches and chairs filled the large room, providing the perfect ambiance for transformation and the therapeutic spilling of guts. Subtle aromatherapy scents wafted from special canisters secreted in the heating-cooling vents, and soothing music floated through the air from a state-of-the-art sound system.
I definitely must have done something right in a past life.
A friendly voice erupted from my speaker phone. “Kismet? Yvonne, Falcon and their entourage just entered the elevator.”
“Thanks, Vic.”
“They’re your last clients of the night. Shall I stay? Or are you expecting the boss to drop by?”
I chuckled. Victoria, Devereux’s human right hand, was a warm-hearted mother hen. “I’m sure he’ll show up eventually, but it doesn’t really matter. You can go. I’m sure I can handle anything that arises.”
No pun intended.
“All right, then.” I could hear the smile permeating her words. “Have a good evening. Don’t forget the coven’s expecting you to visit tomorrow evening. We’ll be practicing spellcasting. You’ll love it.”
“Oh, goodie.” Another chance to expose my social anxiety in front of a group of women I didn’t know. I still didn’t see how learning to cast circles and do hocus-pocus was going to help fine-tune my own apparent psychic abilities, but Devereux said I should at least give it a shot. And I trusted Victoria. She said the group energy worked as a focus and I didn’t have cause to disbelieve her. She’d certainly been a wonderful friend since I moved into the office building.
“Remember what Nietzsche said, ‘What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger’.” She laughed and clicked off.
A high priestess with a twisted sense of humor. What more could an apprentice witch ask for?
I took a deep breath, cloaked myself in my professional aura, and opened the door leading to the waiting room. The ding of the elevator was followed by soft shuffling footsteps along the lushly carpeted hallway.
Walking single file, a woman entered first, followed by three large males. The woman was tall with very long red hair, parted down the middle, a throw-back to the once-popular hippie look of the late 1960s. But I knew her coiffure predated the Woodstock generation by centuries. Large lavender eyes, framed by thick, black lashes, smoldered in her pale face. She wore a purple, floor-length dress cut with a deep “V” neckline, which hugged her lean, well-toned curves, displaying ample cleavage – struggling to break free – and adorned with an antique amethyst necklace.
I sailed my hand through the air, smiling. “Welcome, Yvonne. I invite you to enter my office.” She gave a soft smile, nodded and swept, queen-like, into the room. We both knew the invitation wasn’t necessary, but she and her group adhered to a number of such rituals for their own amusement. I saw no reason to refuse to play along. It was likely she’d picked up the affectations from one movie or another.
She arranged herself in the center of t
he couch, spread the silky purple fabric out around her – perhaps to keep anyone from sitting close – and folded her white hands.
As if by invisible signal, the tallest male of the three bowed from the waist, flashed a brilliant smile, lifted my hand, and kissed it. Falcon was a natural-born actor, charismatic and physically appealing. He’d elevated flirting and seduction to an art form. His curly dark brown hair scraped the shoulders of his custom-tailored black silk suit, and his copper-colored eyes sparkled with good humor. He was a charming rogue.
A hint of fangs peeked through his spreading smile. “Dr. Knight. It is, as always, a pleasure.”
The two men standing on either side of Falcon assumed their familiar stance: legs just so many inches apart, hands grasped in front, eyes straight ahead. No matter which two of his apparently endless supply of bodyguards Falcon brought, their actions were always the same. They even dressed alike. I’d never asked, but there appeared to be a required uniform, with no individual personalization allowed. Sometimes I wondered if Falcon had a laboratory where he turned out bodyguard clones, but tonight’s versions, a young Arnold Schwarzenegger and Hugh Jackman, bucked the trend, looking more like he’d hired them from a celebrity look-alike agency. At a flick of Falcon’s fingers, the two pillars of muscle retreated into the waiting room and closed the adjoining door.
Falcon glided fluidly toward the nearest chair and sat.
I sucked in a deep breath to center myself. Intense eyes followed me as I claimed my own chair and collected my notebook and pen. Creating a comfort zone in the strange world I’d become involved with required a steep learning curve. I now knew what was on the other side of the Looking Glass and that knowledge required lots of antacids.
I gazed at each of them and smiled. “So, how has the week gone? Yvonne, why don’t you begin?”
She gave a slow smile, which never reached her eyes. “I practiced what we discussed, Doctor. I gave Falcon the benefit of the doubt about his ludicrous and fantastical explanations of his whereabouts. I know he’s being unfaithful. I don’t understand why you would ask me to disregard my own awareness.” She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “What good is being able to read minds if I don’t use what I discover?”