by Sophia North
A single tear slipped down her cheek. Frustrated at being emotional over a man who'd abandoned her, she wiped it away.
"But then something remarkable happened," she reverently whispered. "From out of nowhere, some very official letters started to arrive. Incredibly, my aunt had made provisions for my care and education in the event she became unable to do so. I received offer-letters from the best private schools money could buy - and as it turned out, there was plenty of it to be had. Which, considering how frugally Aunt Vivienne and I lived, was nothing short of a miracle."
Leaning forward, Dante picked up the bottle of bourbon and refilled her glass. "Your background story is most extraordinary. I don't understand why you've kept it so vague. Surely your aunt's mental health struggles influenced your decision to become a therapist? Yet, you make no mention of its impact."
Simone smiled softly to herself. "My Aunt Vivienne never asked much from me. She was a free spirit and wanted me to be one too. But there was one promise she insisted upon, and even on the rare occasions before she died when she was lucid enough to know who I was - she demanded I reaffirm it to her."
"Which was?" Dante prompted.
"I was never, ever to speak about my past or what happened to her. And any talk about my family needed to be resigned to history and never dredged up again."
"This seems a rather strange request to make," Dante commented. "Why did you agree? Your aunt seemed a deeply troubled woman, perhaps the request stemmed from her own personal demons?"
Simone hesitated. Other than Penny, no one else knew about her secret. Could she trust Dante with it?
Trust Dante, Simone, a voice whispered in her ear. The hairs on her arms tingled to an upright position. Bloody hell, that was new. She'd never heard a voice before, her intuition had always been more feeling-based.
"Simone?"
The concern in Dante's voice brought her back.
"I agreed because I knew the danger she felt was real. I’m psychically able to know when someone is lying to me."
"Ah, I wondered what your gift may be, I knew you possessed at least one. But I suspect there may be more."
Simone recalled how he'd alluded to her 'gift' in their session together. It had made her very uncomfortable to learn her secret self could be sensed by another.
And now here he was doing it again by implying she may have multiple powers just after something whispered in her ear.
"Why would you think that? Do you have some sort of vamp radar to find those of us who are...special? What am I saying? Of course you do, you confessed being drawn to me because of my voice."
Dante sighed. Simone's data download requirements took some feeding.
Where the hell was Vlad? He could really do with his friend arriving right about now.
Dong ... dong ... dong
The grandfather clock at the far end of the room started to chime the coming hour. Dante zeroed in on its face. Eleven o'clock? What sort of time vortex had they been sucked into? Two hours had passed in a blink of an eye.
Vlad should have risen hours ago. Dante immediately started to worry.
"Something is wrong," he announced, rising abruptly.
Confused by his sudden outburst, Simone rose to her feet as well.
"Stay here, Simone. Alfred, keep her safe until I return," Dante commanded as he shimmered from the room.
Simone had little choice but to obey. She'd heard him lock the doors on his way out. She was trapped!
And worse than that, she had no idea who the hell this ‘Alfred’ was that he'd spoken to as he left. Was it his Private Secretary? Or did he have the room wired with hidden cameras to watch her every move?
The fiend! She wouldn't put it past him.
Chapter Thirteen
RATTLING THE BRASS door handles, Simone vainly hoped they'd miraculously unlocked since her last attempt. "Come back, you bastard!" she cried, pounding against the thick slab of walnut. Unfortunately only silence ensued.
Defeated, she slid to the floor with her back pressed against the door.
Trapped in a vampyre lair. Penny would have a field day if she knew.
Penny!
Scrambling to her feet, Simone ran down the length of the library.
In the far corner, tucked beside another wingback chair, a beautifully crafted side table gleamed in the glow of an elegant Tiffany lamp. On it, sat the object of her desire - a telephone.
She'd noticed it earlier and had thought how quaint it was that Dante still used an old-fashion rotary phone. At least, she hoped the phone was connected to an outside line.
Her relief at hearing a dial tone quickly turned to horror when she couldn't remember Penny's mobile number.
Damn our twenty-first century laziness, she silently cursed.
"'Allo darlin', apologies for the wait. The switchboard is on fire tonight! Name and address?"
Simone nearly dropped the chunky black receiver when she'd heard the operator's voice. The phone connected to an old telephone exchange! Why on earth would the vampyre-world operate on such early twentieth century technology? It was most strange.
" 'Allo? Anybody there?" the female voice on the line asked.
Clearing her throat, Simone tentatively answered. "Hello. May I have Penny MacGregor, 223 Trinity St, Unit B, Southwark please?"
God she hoped vampyres connected to the human world.
"Puttin' ye through, love. And 'ave yerself a lovely evenin'."
Well, they certainly had much better customer service.
Excitement surged through her as the line began to ring.
Please Penny, be working in your studio tonight, she prayed.
"Hello?"
"Pen! It's me. I swear I'll never make fun of your insistence on keeping a landline ever again."
There was a brief pause on the line.
"Simone? Thank the goddess, I've been out of my mind with worry!" Penny exclaimed. "When you didn't ring Thursday after the show, I knew something was seriously wrong. I even went to your flat hoping to find some clue as to where you were but Security wouldn't let me in. I tried to speak to Darryl..."
"Pen, listen," Simone said, interrupting her. "This line may not be secure, so we need to be careful about what we say ..."
"What the fuck do you mean Simone?...what's happened, who's listening? Is it Daryl...is he really ex-MI5? I thought you were taking the piss...but wait, this is all starting to make sense...when I asked to speak to him tonight, the guys on duty swore they'd never heard of him. Goddamn government! Shit, I didn't mean that last part," Penny replied in a flurry of words.
"You done?" Simone's no nonsense tone elicited a sheepish 'yes' from her friend. "I am safe, you need to stop worrying and focus. Do you remember our Godolphin getaway plan?"
"Operation FU Bitches...god, do you remember Violet Howard? She was a right snobby..."
"Focus, Penny," Simone repeated forcefully.
"Bloody hell, yes I remember it. Happy?" she chirped before obediently falling silent on the other end.
"Wonderful. I want you to apply its theory to present circumstances..."
A loud banging on the library door reverberated through the room, along with caws from the caged raven she'd failed to notice.
"Daaanteee!!! Open this fucking door, mate. We've got issues."
"Simone, what's happening?" Penny's panicked voice screeched in her ear.
The door to the library flew off before she could formulate a reply.
Framed in the now rather large gap created by the door's absence, stood the daunting frame of a very tall man with long blonde hair.
Simone pressed back into the chair in alarm. "Penny, a Viking appears to want a word with me," she said without thinking.
The Viking shimmered from his position at the door to stand in front of her.
Simone looked up at him from the chair, stunned into silence by his dramatic entrance.
The vampyre smiled charmingly down at her. "Well, aren't you a delightful surprise
?"
Penny's constant 'Simones', with an occasional Viking threat thrown in for good measure, was the only audible sound in the room.
Sliding the telephone receiver from Simone's frozen fingers, the vampyre placed it against his ear. "Really, your family once drove Vikings from your land?"
Holding the receiver to his chest, he asked, "Simone, is it? Did you know your friend..." He paused for her to supply the name.
"Penny," she automatically replied.
"Penny? No, no, no love," he crooned back into the mouthpiece. "Surely, so noble a warrior race able to drive out Vikings would never name one of their own ... Penny."
Offended beyond belief, Penny snapped back: "My full name is Penelope, you stuck-up prick!"
"Ah yes, that is much more fitting. The wife of Odysseus would have indeed been a worthy opponent for my people," he smoothly replied. "Penelope, my sweet. I have to hang up now, Simone and I urgently need to have a chat. But fear not sweetheart, I see flames when we speak, it is most intriguing. I will be sure to visit soon enough and see if you're as hot as my vision suggests."
On that note, he placed the earpiece back onto its cradle.
"Alfred?" Simone whispered, yet instinctively she knew this hunk of a vampyre could never be Dante's gay Private Secretary.
Clad entirely in black leather, he looked more like a member of Hell's Angels than the gentleman his cultured accent implied. His shoulder-length blond hair framed a ruggedly handsome face. His ice grey eyes, although similar to Dante's, swirled with the ferocity of Northern seas.
"He wishes, love," the handsome devil replied.
The caged raven started to screech again.
"Vlad! What the hell did you do to my door?"
Vlad and Simone reacted together in acknowledgment: "Dante, where have you been?" Although Vlad added the endearment 'motherfucker' to his greeting.
"My door?" was his only reply.
"Collateral damage," Vlad quipped back, unapologetic. "A beautiful maiden was in need of a knight in black leather. Some cad had locked her in and she was in the act of summoning a fierce Greco-Gaelic dragon when I arrived. You should be thanking me, mate - I saved you a shit-load of trouble. What's a door between friends?"
"Alfred! You let her use the telephone?" Dante shouted in outrage.
Unable to remain silent any longer, Simone stood up and stamped her foot. "Who the hell is Alfred?"
"Me," came the reply from the gilded cage.
Crouched in the cage, completely naked, a young man in his 20s peered out at her. Simone let out a startled scream.
"Vlad!" Dante warned.
"At your service, mate," replied the vampyre, catching Simone effortlessly when she fainted. "You really must tell me more about this delightful creature."
*
A COLD COMPRESS on her brow brought Simone slowly back to consciousness. When her eyes eventually opened, she beheld a smooth youthful face of a young man with eyes so dark it was hard to discern if they even had pupils.
"Praise be, she wakes," his monotone voice announced. Then, with a shimmering shake, he turned back into a raven and flew away.
Simone scooted upright to watch him elegantly land and hop back into his gilded cage. "Alfred's the raven!"
"Yes, love. Surely by now this is a well established fact - you remember all the screaming and fainting, right?" remarked the tall Viking looming a bit too close for comfort.
His condescending tone tried Simone's patience. "Fuck you," she bluntly replied.
Vlad tilted his head back and roared with laughter. "I like her, brother. She's got strength, a lioness."
"Back away from my houseguest, Vladimir," Dante sternly instructed. "You are suppose to be helping my cause, not hindering it."
"You know how much I love being called Vladimir. Makes me recall the happy days of my youth," Vlad replied tightly, taking the chair opposite to Dante. "My family's warm embrace - ah, good times. Remind me to book a session with you after we sort out this latest mess, my dear Dr. Radcliffe."
To remind Vlad of his past status as a bastard was a low blow, but sadly, also the only way to check his ego when it got out of control. And right now, Dante needed Vlad back in control.
"This is the vampyre you would entrust my life to?" Simone asked Dante incredulously.
He grimaced slightly. "Unfortunately, you and Vlad have met under rather unusual circumstances," he offered in weak explanation.
"For him or me?" Simone shot back.
"Uh-oh brother, I see choppy seas ahead," Vlad predicted after seeing Simone's fierce expression of disapproval. "Please, Dante - allow me to take the helm on this one. I feel somewhat responsible for the lady's ire."
Dante sat back in his chair and nodded in agreement. He needed Vlad to work his charm offensive and save the situation from getting any worse.
Placing a hand over his heart, Vlad met her hard glare with a sincere smile. "Simone, I offer my deepest apologies for any alarm I may have caused you. Believe it or not, most consider me the diplomatic one out of the two of us."
Simone did not find that a particularly impressive accomplishment, as her raised brow clearly demonstrated.
Pulling out all the stops, Vlad leant forward in his chair to whisper conspiratorially to her. "Dante is rather notorious for his inflammatory temperament, which you've no doubt had to tangle with. Come Simone, he could try the patience of Job, right?"
Unable to suppress her amusement over his antics, Simone started to laugh.
"You can be very charming when you want to be," she conceded. "And like the Fool, wield power through humour. Yes, I can see why you are an excellent diplomat."
Vlad emitted a low whistle. "Damn, she's intelligent too. Brother, you are in trouble."
Simone glanced over at Dante to see what he thought of his friend's assessment. The admiration she saw glowing in his eyes made her look away.
"Very well, Vlad you are forgiven. But as for your partner in crime over there, I am still pissed about being locked in here against my will. I don't care if Anton wants me dead, I will not spend another minute in this house!"
So much for his plan to convince her to stay.
"Fuck me, you're Dante's Muse," Vlad exclaimed. "Finally! Shit is starting to make sense."
It was? Not to her, it wasn't.
What did Vlad mean by calling her Dante's muse? Last time she checked, she was a psychiatrist, not a deity from ancient Greek myth. And she certainly had no intention of being his anything. Not anymore! First chance she got, she'd be out the door.
Dante looked inquisitively at his friend. "Explain."
"What Simone helped you to 'see' has set our world on fire. Lowerton has been captured by Anton and his followers."
"Lowerton has fallen to Anton?" Dante couldn't believe it. Not even Haan had ever managed such a feat.
"I shit you not, brother."
Simone's stomach sank. Anton's coup meant her chance of survival, should she manage to escape, had taken a severe nose dive. He would want to ensure her swift demise even more now if Dante's abilities could usurp Anton from his newly gained position of power.
"How the fuck did he pull it off?" Dante demanded. "Anton may be a devout prophecy believer. But belief, and a few misguided followers, does not defeat the stronghold of the Vampyre world."
"Anton is much changed, brother." Vlad solemnly replied. "And the rumours about him recruiting an army were true. His followers number in the hundreds, if not more. And their belief is absolute: Haan rises soon and his resurrection will mark the dawn of a new age - the Age Of Vampyre. Bunch of fucking lunatics," he said with a snort of derision. "Jesus, I need a drink. It's been one helluva of a forty-eight hours."
Vlad plucked the bottle of bourbon from the table and poured himself a generous glass.
"Tell me what happened, brother," Dante encouraged. "In detail, I need details."
"You and your fucking details. Very well." Vlad settled back in his chair, lifted his drink in a
salute-like gesture and drank it down. "But I warn you, mate. It's pretty fucked-up."
Chapter Fourteen
"THE ATTACK CAME from out of nowhere not long after you left Lowerton in a huff," Vlad began with his usual attempt at humour. It wasn't long though before his face grew serious. "It was a bloodbath. So many of our oldest and wisest dead - an irreplaceable loss I was powerless to stop."
Hearing the pain in his voice, Simone could not help reaching out to comfort him. "Vlad, you mustn't place the blame on your shoulders. In life there are events, circumstances which are beyond our control and we must learn to accept that which we cannot change."
"Doc, if it was only that simple. I appreciate your kindness, though," Vlad warmly replied.
"No, brother, she is correct on one point. You alone do not bear the responsibility for the loss. I should have stayed with you, been there to fight at your side instead of ..."
Vlad held his hand up. "Stop," he commanded. "This sappy shite accomplishes nothing. I'm fucking glad you weren't there. One of the only times Anton displayed any sign of weakness was discovering you had not been captured. His perfectly fucking formulated plan hit an unforeseen hitch there - and the outrage in his eyes pleased me immensely."
Dante noticed his friend grimace slightly when he shifted in his chair. "You are in pain," he observed. "Are you injured?"
"It's but a small nuisance," Vlad said dismissively. "I’ll be fine. I stopped at a bank to replenish my strength, it's just taking a moment to kick in. I lost a bit of blood in Lowerton and hadn't fed for a few days before being held. Nothing too serious."
Dante arched a questioning brow at him. "Human blood requires no time to 'kick in' and heal us. Show me your wounds."
Vlad laughed. "Your lady's present, brother. I wouldn't want to be the cause of a change in affection once she's been exposed to my vampyric perfection."
Simone bristled at his continued insinuation that she belonged to Dante. "I happen to be a certified medical doctor," she coolly informed Vlad. "Rest assured, I am immune to your appeal. Show us your wounds."