Key to Conflict

by Talia Gryphon

  Heavy furniture, a wardrobe, dresser, table, chair and nightstand, was carved from a dark wood that looked like mahogany. The castle was wired for electricity and modern plumbing, yet there were massive candelabras on either side of the dresser for aesthetic value, and the fireplace kept the room cozy and warm. Gill was beat and lay back on the huge bed to collect her thoughts.

  Anubis and Sekhmet had accompanied them back along with three other Egyptian Vampires from Osiris’s personal guard. Montu, named for the god of war, serious and unsmiling, his rich black hair braided in similar fashion to Anubis’s; Noph, the other male, had been named for the ancient Egyptian capital known later as Memphis. He was inches taller than Montu, his hair cut shorter and unadorned like his Liege Lord’s. He was an imposing male with a massive chest, tree-trunk legs and powerful arms; Maeti, the third guard, was female. Named for the goddess of truth, she was almost as lovely as Sekhmet. She was taller than her counterpart and clearly not fully Egyptian. She had sky-colored eyes and an easy laugh. Her hair was styled with bangs, straight and black. It was longer than any of the men’s, the ends covered with tiny golden beads that tinkled gently when she walked. All five of the Egyptian Vampires had donned western-style clothing. It would be less of a shock to the locals than seeing Egyptian nobility strolling around the Rachlav estate.

  Gillian was admiring the view from her window. The castle was situated up, and partly built into, the mountain. Flanked on two sides by the primordial forest, the back to the mountain, the front was a large meadow. The clearing glowed in the moonlight that shown from a velvety black sky, spangled with stars. From her vantage point, she could see the cabin and, further in the distance, the village of Sacele. There were isolated pockets of light, where other residences dwelt. The people of the region loved the earth and nestled their homes and villages harmoniously with the wild mountains.

  A knock at the door startled her out of her musings. “Enter.” It had to be someone she knew, so she didn’t bother to turn around. Aleksei’s deep beautiful voice stroked her mind.

  “If you are settled in and find your room pleasing, I wondered if we might get a session in?”

  Turning, she regarded him. He stood in the doorway, beautiful, sensual, Old-World romance, Paramortal power; completely off limits. “Certainly, Aleksei. I’ll get my notes.”

  Waiting for her to retrieve pen and file, Aleksei was intrigued to discover something. Since the threat of war had emerged, he hadn’t given thought to Elizabeta, nor succumbed to depression. Wondering if it was a fluke, he led Gillian down to the great hall. Sparsely decorated but elegant nonetheless, it wasn’t as big as some that she’d seen in castles and manor houses in other countries like England, but was still massive and impressive. The room was a long rectangle seated against the main frame of the castle. On one end was a fireplace big enough to roast an entire steer in. The massive mantel above it held wood-cuts, small painted portraits, antique glassware and a runner embroidered with the Rachlav colors of burgundy and midnight blue.

  Above the mantel hung a portrait of the Rachlav family. Aleksei and Tanis were there, flanking an older couple that could only be their parents. All were dressed in garb reflecting the period of the sixteen hundreds, except the clothing was more Italian.

  Seeing her puzzlement and guessing the reason, Aleksei explained. “My family has a home in Tuscany and we spent a great deal of time there. Mother was a trendsetter in her day and usually came home with trunks of the latest fashions. She insisted we look like Italian royalty instead of Romanian landowners.” He chuckled. His mother had been a character, always bringing fun and life into the home and to his father’s eyes.

  Gillian watched him, saw his face shift. Glad that he’d had a good relationship with his family, sorry that he’d had to watch everyone he’d loved die, except Tanis. She moved to one of two huge couches positioned across from each other, near the fire, which was blazing merrily away, and curled up with her pad on her lap, waiting.

  Realizing he’d been lost in thought, Aleksei seated himself next to her instead of across from her. Gillian watched him warily. Professional distance came down with almost an audible click.

  “What did you want to start with, Aleksei?”

  At first, she didn’t think he’d heard her, he was so still. Then he spoke, and neither of them were sure it was a good thing. “I was not sure where I wanted to begin tonight.” His voice was soft, a warm purr melting over her, and she repressed a shiver. “But watching you in your room just now I realized that I have not suffered the effects of my boredom nor my depression in the last few days. Could it be that I am finally healing?”

  She had to think about that for a moment. Spontaneous remission was not unheard of, and while Aleksei hadn’t been in a truly bad way when she’d first met him, now he fairly glowed with strength and power. Looking at him critically, she noticed his hair appeared thicker, blacker, longer and more luxuriant. His eyes were unwavering on her face, liquid silver lit from within. The sensual planes of his face and mouth were utterly masculine, yet his otherworldly beauty was almost heartbreaking.

  Mentally shaking herself, Gill responded, noticing uncomfortably that Aleksei’s kissable lips bore the lightest of smiles. “It is possible that you have had a breakthrough and didn’t really recognize it.” He looked puzzled, so she explained further. “Sometimes, life-or-death situations cancel out minor day-today annoyances and thoughts. You have had more important things to think about recently and not had time to dwell on your problems to any extent. Make sense?”

  Raking a hand through his hair, he thought about it. “Yes, it does. I have been so consumed with thinking about what we were going to do and how we were all going to survive that I truly have not thought of the endless nights alone nor of the people I failed in my extended lifetime.”

  “Aleksei.” She uncharacteristically put her hand on his arm where it rested on the chair. “I hope this is a major breakthrough with you, but I want to make sure that it is not a temporary rallying of your spirits. When this is all over, you will still have the life you had before. I don’t want your fangxiety and depression to come roaring back at that point and for you to lose hope.”

  Ice-gray eyes looked into her own green ones. He didn’t speak and the silence grew uncomfortable. Still she waited, knowing it was important for him to cycle through the thoughts that were flooding across his face.

  “And why would that be a concern, Gillian?”

  Uh-oh, the voice was a little chilly. Better tread lightly. Grinning, she went for lightening the mood a little. “Because I am a world-famous Paramortal shrink and it would damage my flawless reputation.”

  He wanted to be angry with her glib response, but found he could not. Her smile and natural sense of humor were contagious, and he returned it. It caught Gillian’s breath as his smile blazed to life. He was astonishingly attractive in more ways than just the physical. She liked him. Really liked him as a person and a client and truly wanted him to feel whole again. It surprised her that she was having difficulty keeping this in perspective, but then life-threatening emergencies made for strange bedfellows. She pressed on.

  “What was your depression based on?” At his quizzical look, she added, “Why were you feeling useless and hopeless?”

  “Because I felt that I had little purpose in my life.” Comprehension dawned. “So now that I have something to strive for again, I do not have time to wallow in my own self-pity.”

  Even Gillian winced when he came to that conclusion. That was a painful moment of self-discovery for him, and she said nothing, waiting. His eyes never left her face and she felt a blush creeping up her cheeks to her utter mortification.

  “I do not know if my symptoms were due to simply existing, Gillian. Reconnecting with Osiris again made me realize that I need to develop more interests and more stamina to keep up with the waking world.”

  Keen silvery-gray eyes noticed her discomfiture instantly. Having her pack up and run because there w
as a latent attraction was not on his agenda. Trying to salvage the circumstance, he rose and stood before her, his hand out. “Will you not congratulate your patient for a significant, if not earth-shattering, breakthrough?”

  Gillian did not want to hug him. Realizing that, she could have kicked herself. She was a physical woman. Hugging or touching her patients, no matter what their origin, came naturally to her. So many among the living were touch-starved; it was no less prevalent among the Reborn, undead or Fey. Why would Aleksei be any different? Why should he be different just because she was having a hard time with perception issues?

  Steeling herself, she stood, put her pad aside and opened her arms to him. Instantly she was enfolded against his powerful chest, his arms locking around her and pulling her tightly against him. Too short to reach his neck, she encircled his waist, hugging him back for a moment.

  Aleksei carefully kept his lower body away from her. He hadn’t expected the intense reaction to having her in his arms if even for a brief moment. He bent his head, leaning down so that her arms would move up from his waist and around his shoulders to circle his neck. Blood surged through his body in an intense, molten inferno. The scent of her—clover meadow, snow and sunlight—hearing her pulse speed up to match his own, feeling the strength in her small body, all aroused him to a long-denied, aching need. He broke off the hug suddenly, reaching up to remove her arms from his neck gently, then stepping back, smiling softly down at her.

  “I suppose for now we can terminate our therapeutic relationship, Gillian. If you are in agreement, of course.”

  “Um, sure, yeah. That would be fine, Aleksei.”

  Gillian cleared her throat, finding her wits and her voice. The hug had affected her too. Her hands involuntarily clenched after being deprived of his warm, rock-hard muscles.

  “You seem to feel much better, and this was supposed to be brief therapy, so I’ll write it up and we’ll consider the matter closed.” She turned to get her pad and pen. When she straightened, he was gone. That’s odd, she thought. I guess he had something to do.

  The something to do, was to get away from Gillian for awhile. Aleksei was outside and halfway up the mountain before Anubis caught him. “What troubles you, my friend?”

  He spun to find Anubis in all his glory. “Nothing,” he growled, not trusting himself to explain adequately.

  “Not quite the truth is it, Aleksei?”

  “It does not matter, Anubis. I wish I could have met her under different circumstances, but I did not. Now there must be a one-year waiting period before I can even broach the topic of getting to know her on a far more personal level.”

  “And Tanis moved first.”

  “That is part of it, yes.” Aleksei sounded tired.

  “What about Gillian’s feelings? Does she have a say in the matter?” Anubis had few unspoken thoughts. Aleksei knew that he was teasing him, but it irritated him all the same.

  “Yes, dammit, she has a choice, Anubis! Why in hell would she not have a choice? I have never forced my attentions on a woman in all my centuries and I do not intend to start now. I want her to be happy, that is all.” He was pacing, raking his fingers through his hair.

  “Great Amon, you do care for her.”

  Anubis was truly amazed. Aleksei had never dallied with any woman that he knew of. Elizabeta’s selfish aspirations and death had haunted him, and he had been very careful to avoid any female entanglements. Now, faced with the one woman he could not have, she had become the one woman he wanted. The naked pain in Aleksei’s face made him rethink his response.

  “You are a Vampire, Aleksei. You have eternity to wait. Use your time wisely, my friend.” Anubis vanished into thin air, leaving Aleksei to his thoughts.

  A humorless smile curved his mouth. Yes, he did have time on his side. Gillian was worth waiting for.

  Gillian wasn’t waiting on anybody at the moment. Upon discovering that Aleksei had left her in front of the fireplace, she bolted up to her room and locked the door.

  Shit, hell and damn, she swore to herself as she flopped unceremoniously on the bed, clutching her pad to her chest in an unconsciously defensive gesture.

  Was she imagining it, or was the lovely Count Rachlav showing some untoward interest in her? She couldn’t be that off her nut, could she? Her empathy was screaming at her while she was in his arms. He needed her, needed her comfort, her closeness and she had willingly given it…well, not willingly, but she had given it. She was struggling with her own sense of personal right versus professional wrong. If she’d bothered to be honest with herself, she’d have figured out that she was going against her nature to deny her feelings and attraction for this particular Vampire.

  The legal pad came up to cover her face as she felt herself blushing again. For fuck’s sake! she admonished herself. He is a client. Even if they just terminated their professional relationship, it was going to be a year before they could act on any possible attraction. That was assuming she was still in Romania in a year and that neither of them had found other attachments by then. One thing was for sure, she wouldn’t be the one forming any sort of permanent attachment, now or later. Nope. That was out entirely. The nature of her dual career, her own quirky commitmentphobic personality. Definitely not her. Great Hathor’s hells, her mind couldn’t wrap around that concept.

  CHAPTER

  14

  W AKING late in the afternoon the next day, Gillian checked her messages and her e-mail. Very bad news from the IPPA awaited her. The other therapist/operative (TO) they were worried about in the States had been found. Part of him in Texas and part in New Mexico. The forwarded report was graphic. Torn apart were the words used to describe the body. Another seven of their TOs who were currently in France, Switzerland, Italy, Hungary, China, India and California were being threatened and it wasn’t looking good for the remaining thirteen of them.

  Not only Paramortal psychologists were being targeted. Any Human-related business or profession that dealt primarily with Paramortal folk had received a threat of some sort. The IPPA only had specific information about the deaths and missing persons within its spectrum, but it was reasonable to assume that there were similar incidences across the board. Shit, shit and double shit. This was very, very bad.

  An involuntary shiver ran up her spine at the next part. Several high-ranking Vampires and Lycanthropes with known affiliations to Osiris and Dionysus were dead or missing. One Vamp had also been of Dracula’s line but, like Aleksei and Tanis, had allegiances with the other Lords.

  The IPPA’s instructions were clear and specific: Lay low; take all necessary precautions; do not get killed. Gee, that was helpful, she thought, vastly aggravated. Going to the police would be redundant. The IPPA had already notified local magistrates and Interpol about the danger, with instructions to keep it out of the media as much as possible. Worldwide panic was not on anyone’s agenda.

  Paramortal legalization had been around for years but there were still undercurrents of prejudice. No one wanted the law-abiding Paramortals to suffer because of a disproportionate number of malcontents. Certainly no one wanted to go back to the dark ages of hunting and killing them. Most were productive, responsible citizens both in the Human world and in their own. “Live and let live” was very much in favor on both sides.

  Swearing and still reeling from the latest headline news, Gillian found numerous e-mails from Arkady Boganskaya—Dante had been informed of her brief absence, but was clearly not happy with being ignored. He’d been wreaking havoc on the castle and the guests. Could Gillian come quickly please? Or at least as quickly as possible? Rolling her eyes, she dialed Arkady and told him she’d be right there, apologizing for her necessary absence. He was grateful and delighted to hear from her and, after hanging up, ran to Dante’s hallway to inform the Ghost that Gillian was on her way.

  She left a note for the Vampires in case it got late and she wasn’t back, but chose not to share the other information from the IPPA at that point. The news wa
s bad enough that she intended to deliver it in person, even though the thought made her cringe.

  On the way to Dante, she mulled over in her mind the best way to diplomatically break the news. Pulling into the Boganskaya Castle parking lot, Gillian was hit by a sense of dread. Ghost fear, she realized. Not good. Not good at all. Dante was projecting his displeasure forcefully and it was spilling over into the great outdoors. A temperamental Ghost with an attitude she did not need right now. Slamming the door shut, she stalked up to the main doors and into the great hall. Arkady popped his head around a corner to thank her for coming, then vanished. He looked a little pale.

  Gillian hit the stairs, cursing under her breath. Dante’s hallway and the foyer in front of it was covered in blood. The stench made her gag and annoyed her to no end. Okay, she was getting angry. Diplomacy first. Then…find a rock.

  “Dante!” she called out in her best concerned-therapist voice, which echoed through the castle. “I came as soon as I could!”

  A hiss of breath behind her caused her heart to leap. Her pulse was already racing, sweat beading on her brow from the fear Dante was projecting in his ire. She spun to find Dante uncomfortably close, his blue eyes snapping in anger, his wounds visible and horrifying.

  “You have been gone three days with no word.” Dante wasn’t a happy spirit.

  “No, I left word with Arkady. He told you I had to leave unexpectedly.”

  Then she felt it. Empathy in her line of work was invaluable sometimes. Even if she hadn’t been as gifted as she was in that area, she would have picked up on it. Fear. His fear and anxiety coupled with centuries-old trauma. Post-traumatic stress disorder in all its glory. He’d opened up after six hundred years of anguish, shared his experience. She’d understood him, listened to him, helped him come to terms with his feelings, then had left him hanging. Damn it. He’d been processing alone over the last three days and had needed to vent his long pent-up emotions.