Aris Rising: The Court of Vampires: AN INFINITY DIARIES NOVEL

by Morgan, Devin

He had been telephoning her almost daily since his return from Italy. They had spent more time together and the more she saw of him, the more she liked him. He really was everything she had hoped to find in a man. Kind, solicitous, intelligent. Not to mention amazingly handsome. He was a member of her own profession and they were never without things to talk about.

  When he touched her, it stirred her blood. She fought hard against her own impulses. Somehow she felt if she were intimate with DeMarco she would betray Aris although she didn’t really know why. DeMarco wanted more from her, but he seemed willing to allow her to take her time. She had shared things with him that amazed her, even telling him about her ex-husband and the sorrow of her divorce. He was a willing listener and seemed to want to learn more about her. She wondered what he would think if he knew what was happening in her life right now.

  She smiled to herself as she thought, “He’d be on a plane to Italy before I finished my sentence.” Or would he? There seemed to be a deep understanding between them that she couldn’t rationalize.

  She realized that she didn’t know very much about him. All of their conversations had been about their work or about her. He was inquisitive about her background and her life. He took a deep interest in her past and her family. And she readily answered all his questions, something unusual for her.

  She sipped her wine, wondering if he could be someone who could take her out of the insane world she had ventured into. Someone who could give her a normal, human life. At least that made more sense than becoming a vampire for love.

  Pictures of a life with him played in her mind until, at last, he was there, standing before her. He smiled as he leaned to kiss her cheek before he sat at the table. Her entire body tingled in response to his touch.

  #

  “This afternoon you have an appointment with a new client. He’s British or something. When he called to make the appointment, his English sure wasn’t the plain old American vernacular.” Maggie sat in the chair across from Sarah, dangling her shoe from the toe of her bare plump foot.

  “Vernacular?”

  “He sounded so refined, I thought I’d try it out.” She snickered. “Doesn’t work so well on me, huh?”

  “Let’s just say you do better as plain ol’ Maggie Fisher from the north side.” Sarah was always swamped with work after the holidays. Some of her weight loss people always fell off the diet wagon and they all wanted a little extra help to get back on. She looked at her schedule and shook her head. “I won’t have any time for lunch today. Would you mind a run to Saul’s for salads?” Pulling her credit card from her wallet, she held it out for Maggie.

  “Nope boss. I got it today. I’m out of here. You want the usual?”

  “Perfect. What time is this Englishman due here?” They heard the outer office door open.

  “I guess right now. I’ll show him in then scoot. Have fun.” Maggie shut Sarah’s door behind her while Sarah hunted for her own missing shoe under her desk.

  “Richard Rhys-Davis to see you.” Sarah grinned at the formal sound of Maggie’s voice and responded in kind.

  “Please show him in.” She rose to greet her new client.

  As he walked in the door, she hid her shock. Another gorgeous man. They were coming out of the woodwork. This one, tall and blond, with cornflower blue eyes and a smile that would stop traffic.

  “How do you do?” He extended his well-manicured hand. “I am Richard Rhys-Davis. Doctor Hagan, I presume.”

  “Sounds like I have Sherlock Holmes in my office,” she thought. “Yes,” she spoke out loud. “Please have a seat.”

  His dark suit was without flaw and he was obviously comfortable in his own skin as he relaxed in the chair opposite her.

  Her head tilted questioningly. “Where would you like to begin?”

  Clearing his throat, he drew a card and a badge from his pocket. “Actually, Doctor, I am not here as a client.”

  She reached for his card. Reading it quickly, her gaze was full of questions as she looked up at him. “Interpol?”

  “Yes, the International Criminal Police Organization. We are here in your country in pursuit of the leader of a global smuggling ring, Ricardo De Flores. I am not at liberty to tell you more than that at this time; however, we have been led to believe this Spanish national may have reason to contact you.”

  “Me?” Shock took her voice to a higher pitch. “Why in the world me?”

  “We were hoping you could tell us that, Doctor.”

  “I’m not a smuggler, I’m a psychologist. What would he want with me?”

  He leaned forward in his chair. “We have records of telephone calls to this telephone number.”

  She started to fidget in her chair. This man obviously thought she knew something about the criminal he pursued. “I don’t know this De Flores person. I don’t even have any Spanish clients.”

  “Please, do not be alarmed. We know exactly who you are. We were just hoping you might shed some light on the subject. Perhaps you might have a client who might be connected in some way.”

  “No. Nothing that I know of. I did have a Latino man previously, but he is of Mexican origin and I know his family. Right now, my clientele is nothing but American citizens.”

  He stood. “Thank you for seeing me. You may hear from me again but as of now, I believe we are finished with any questions I might have.” He shook her hand as she showed him out. “And, please, Doctor, do not be alarmed. We have no suspicions that you are in any way criminally involved.”

  He stepped into the outer hall. “If you think of anything further, please telephone me at the number I’ve written on the back of the card. It’s my hotel. Good day, Doctor Hagan.”

  She took a deep breath as she stepped back into the office, closing the door behind her. “Good Lord, I really was talking to Sherlock Holmes. It’s a shame he didn’t have a hat to tip. That would have really frosted the cake.”

  #

  Sarah was glad the Art Institute was open late on Thursday evenings. She had time after her last client to stop on her way home. One of her most relaxing pastimes was to visit the rooms that featured paintings by Monet. She remembered during Aris’ art show he mentioned he learned his technique by watching Monet paint. What a life, well, un-life he had led. Being conscious during so many important moments in history; seeing and meeting people who would remain in the memory of society as long as there was a society. A life that frightened her yet continued to fascinate her. She decided she would think about all of that later.

  The clock on the marble wall showed fifteen past six. Aris was rarely late, especially knowing the museum closed at eight o’clock. She was on the verge of being concerned for him when she saw him hurry through the front door. He waved when he saw her and his bright smile made her gasp. Would she ever become accustomed to this vibrant being walking across the foyer to meet her? Every woman he passed turned to look at him. He was truly a babe magnet, but he never appeared to notice anyone except her.

  “His Immortal charm,” she thought.

  She stepped to greet him. His lips were cool as they brushed her cheek lightly.

  “So sorry I am late. I was detained at the gallery. It seems they would like to do another show. They find my Impressionist work intriguing.” He laughed out loud. “Would they not be surprised to know from whom I learned it?”

  Taking his hand, she hurried through the main hall. “Let’s go visit the master’s work.”

  The galleries were thinning as the daytime visitors left for their dinners. The evening clientele was just beginning to arrive in trickles. They found six o’clock to be a perfect time for some degree of privacy with the art.

  When they reached the gallery with the Monet haystacks, they sat on the bench in the center of the room. Sometimes when she came here alone, tears sprang to her eyes at the beauty and intensity of the art that surrounded her. He held her hand as they sat in silence and just observed. It was many minutes before either of them spoke. It was Sarah who br
oke the silence.

  “I had the strangest visitor today.”

  “Yes?”

  “Yes, one of your countrymen. Some sort of international police force. It kind of freaked me out at first, but it turned out they just hoped I could give them some information.” She snickered, “I love the last names of the British, the hyphens are great.”

  “Hyphens?”

  “Yeah, see.” She handed Aris the card the handsome policeman had given her.

  He froze as he read it.

  “Aris, what’s wrong?”

  He looked around the room making sure no one could hear him before he spoke. “Sarah, Richard Rhys-Davis is a vampire.”

  Her head swam, her fingers clutched the bench where they sat. He spoke hurriedly. “No fear. It is Richard from the Catacombs. He would never harm you.” His voice was pensive. “But what is he doing here in America? And for what reason did he come to you?”

  She took a couple of deep breaths. “I feel better now.” She smoothed her skirt. “It was just a shock. How many vampires am I going to have in my life?” Shaking her head to clear it, she placed her hands on her temples and closed her eyes.

  “I sincerely hope this is the last one, Sarah. But please, do not fear Richard. When he became one of the Immortals, he took the Blood Oath. He will harm no innocent human.”

  “But why is he here?” Her soft whisper matched his.

  “What did he tell you?”

  “Some story about an international Spanish criminal. Obviously not true.”

  Puzzled, Aris took his arm from her shoulder then folded her fingers through his. “But why you? Why would he come to you?”

  “Could he be looking for you?”

  “We will just have to ask him that, will we not, Sarah?”

  CHAPTER 24

  The Bistro was almost empty as they sat in the dim bar. They were ahead of the happy-hour crowd and, for the first time, the dark empty room appeared a bit sinister to Sarah. She had been even more nervous about the situation since Aris asked her to call Richard to set up a meeting. She had not told the strange vampire the true reason for her contacting him, simply that she needed to see him.

  Aris sat across from her, spinning his glass of wine mindlessly in a slow circle.

  Suddenly, his eyes shot to the door. He jumped rapidly to his feet.

  The shadow of a tall powerfully built man was outlined in the doorway. Sarah willed the bartender to turn the lights brighter without success.

  The man crossed the room slowly toward their table. He stared at Aris for a long moment before he spoke. “Aris?” It was a stunned whisper. “Aris?”

  “Yes brother, it is I.”

  “But how? And when? I sense it is you, yet you inhabit a strange body? What has happened? How can this be?” Without warning, he reached his arms to encircle his lost friend in a hug between giants.

  “Here, sit.” Aris pulled a chair from beneath the table, motioning Richard to sit.

  “So many questions, so much to tell.” Sarah knew the two men could see each other clearly with their Immortal vision. She took out the glasses she so seldom wore to make sure she missed nothing in the dim indirect lights seeping down from overhead.

  She listened as Aris explained his journey in a soft voice. Through the melody of their accents, it was as if she were listening to a fairy story told to frighten children on a cold rainy night. But it was reality. Her reality and impossibly, one she had begun to treasure. There was not only a surprising absence of fear, but an unexplored deep calling that came to her when she was in the presence of the Immortals.

  “So there is my story.” Aris finished his tale. The friends stared at each other in silence.

  “I mourned you. I mourned you to this day and now, I know joy that you are here.”

  “But you? Richard, what are you doing here? How did you find me?”

  “You are not the reason I have come here. I am truly looking for someone.” He settled in as he began his part of the tale.

  “You see, some time ago, a vampire came to us from Spain, Ricardo De Flores. He came to us for sanctuary, he said. He was made by the same wild coven that made Gabriela and me. He proclaimed he was seeking a more peaceful life. He was questioned, tested over and over by the Council and after some time they became convinced he was in earnest. He took the Blood Oath and joined us as a member of the Catacombs.

  “He was an adept student, doing well in the sciences. He worked with the Master Keeper of the Infinity Diaries to categorize and authenticate information. Everyone was quite pleased with his performance. He was a solitary chap, but that was not thought of as strange. Coming from such a wild place, we knew he needed seclusion and peace to settle his past.

  “Excuse me.” Both the men turned to Sarah as she spoke. She had been silent for most of their conversation, but now, her curiosity got the better of her. “Can you explain the Infinity Diaries?”

  Richard spoke. “The Diaries are accounts of every human and Immortal that has ever lived or died. They account the re-incarnation of every soul. They were begun shortly after Queen Akira and King Khansu arrived on earth as a part of their research into human life. The Diaries have evolved over the years as knowledge and research techniques in the Catacombs have developed. They are ancient, yet far from complete.

  “The Diaries are secret and sacred to our kind. Whoever holds them holds the key to knowledge of the world past and the world to come and that knowledge gives the holder great power. Time and events are not set in stone. If the proposed future is known, it can be manipulated. If the Master Keeper was unscrupulous, he could command the world.

  “Because trust in newcomers to the Catacombs is built slowly over time and De Flores was new to our society, it was centuries before he held an important position. One day he did not appear to attend to his appointed duties. He had been prompt and industrious so the Master wondered at his absence. Another day and then a third. The Master sent for him and was told his chamber was empty except for one of the Diaries. When it was brought to him, it was found a soul chart was missing, stolen from the ancient holy records. After a great deal of research, it was discovered that the soul chart was of Elizabeth Wyatt’s lives and deaths and re-incarnations. I tracked him through dimensions and centuries until I found his trail led here to Chicago, to Sarah.”

  Her eyes were wide in fright, the pupils dilated even in the dim light. Her skin felt cold and clammy. When she spoke her voice was a hoarse whisper. “The crimson roses on my pillow. A strange vampire has been in my room.”

  Aris rose quickly, moving to her side. “Do not be afraid. We are here. No one can harm you while we are here. You have my word.”

  “A crimson rose?” Richard leaned toward her, then backed quickly away. He didn’t want to frighten Sarah any further. Aris explained the phantom florist to his friend. It took a moment for Sarah to regain her composure. She sat quietly trying to decide if it was fright or anger at the thought of a strange vampire creeping into her home.

  #

  “So who’s the woman who answered your phone?”

  Sarah could hear the curiosity in Colleen’s voice even through the receiver of the phone. She wasn’t really lying as she answered. “It’s one of Carlos’ relatives visiting for a few weeks. Carlos didn’t have a place to put her up so she’s staying here.”

  Another one of the undead in her life. When would it stop? Did she really want it to stop? The excitement of a life that was totally impossible and gravely dangerous generated a feverish exhilaration she didn’t know she had in her. What was becoming of the old play-it-safe Sarah, the woman who got up in the morning, did her job and went to bed early at night? She was slowly disappearing into a world that was unfathomable and mystifying. She was now sharing her apartment with a female vampire, feeling perfectly safe and comfortable.

  “So who is she? What’s she like?”

  “Her name is Gabriela Rivera. She’s about his age and she’s lovely.”

  �
��How long is she going to be staying with you?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Sarah was noncommittal as she spoke. “For a few weeks. It’s no bother at all and I’m enjoying having the company.”

  “Yeah? Well the girls will have to get together to welcome her.”

  “That would be nice, C.”

  “Got another call, got to go.”

  #

  She had been so initially frightened at the thought of an unknown vampire in her apartment that Sarah didn’t even consider when Richard brought Gabriela to Chicago she was inviting another one to move in with her. Immediately responding to the need of his chosen brother to keep his loved one safe, Richard contacted his mate and confidante to help them. He took charge of the situation while Sarah tried to collect herself still sitting in shock at the table in The Bistro. Through a fog she heard him say to book a flight on the next plane.

  Aris stayed with her all night and the next day until Gabriela arrived from London. She arrived looking beautiful, unflustered and completely in control, another perfect Immortal. Her musical voice was soft, warm and encouraging. Sarah felt instantly and incomprehensibly secure with the tall, lean, golden brown beauty. She had effortlessly become a part of Sarah’s daily existence, watching over her, making sure she was safe from the unknown intruder. Richard and Aris searched the city unable to locate any information about the Spanish fraud. Who was he really? What did he want with Sarah? Had he wanted to hurt her, he would have. What was the rose? Did it have meaning? Unanswered questions as the two Immortals scoured the city using all of their powers to find him.

  Their search was to no avail. Each day they felt the bitterness of a stalemate. Sarah worked, ate and slept in a somnambulant state nearly all of the time, unable to truly accept the world she now lived in. For the most part she expected to wake from one of her lucid dreams to find her life just as mundane as it always had been, safe, dull, normal, whatever that meant. Yet every morning there was Gabriela, smiling with a cup of hot coffee, waiting as Sarah stumbled into the kitchen.

  “Your friend, Maggie, makes me laugh. Are all Americans so light hearted?” Listening very closely, Sarah began to detect a slight British accent sprinkling itself gently through Gabriela’s Spanish-softened English.