by Sophia North
"Very well," Dante agreed, returning to where he'd left off. "The prophecy was made by a very powerful vampyre named Haan as he was being burnt at the stake. Everything changed in the Vampyre world after his execution."
"And what exactly was this Haan executed for?" Simone prodded.
"He believed vampyres are the most advanced species on the planet and that we should rise up and rule over humans. And he nearly succeeded."
Simone's heart began to pound louder. She wanted to hear the lie in his story but it was not forthcoming.
Needing to test him more, she dug deeper. "I see. And his prophecy was what exactly?"
"He proclaimed that if in five hundred years vampyres had not subjugated all humans then he would return and lead a rebellion, killing anyone who opposed him."
"Nice. And I thought today's geopolitical landscape was tough," Simone teased. Dante’s sideways glance made her stop with the inane comparison. "My apologies, do go on with your tale...er, I mean explanation."
He sighed over her continued veiled slights, but nevertheless continued. "The five hundred year anniversary was on May Day 2017 and in the year leading up to it a small team was set up by the Council to investigate any possibilities of the prophecy becoming true. Within a month of the anniversary, the team had disappeared without a trace."
Dante paused and ran his hand through his hair. He could feel his anger stir as he recounted the story and wanted to ensure he did not alarm Simone more than the simple truth would. His temper had a way of flaring up at inopportune times.
"After the disappearance," he resumed, "there were a few signs all was not well in our world but most were happy to ignore the growing evidence. They even went so far as to declare the lost team as being 'fear-mongers' and on some lips even 'traitors'. Until earlier this year, when some very bad things started happening, and their open hostility towards the possibility of the prophecy's coming fulfillment was silenced."
"Very bad things? That sounds rather ominous," Simone remarked in an attempt at humour.
Dante looked at her steadily. "Humans are being maliciously murdered with a growing regularity in Central London. And the perpetrator is what we call a Ripper and one we have not even come close to catching."
Simone swallowed nervously at the otherworldly glow in Dante's eyes. "The media hasn't reported anything about these killings," she said, growing suspicious. "Quite the feat in today's 24/7 news cycle especially given his title. London loves a good Ripper titillation and it's been over a century since Jack."
Dante did not rise to the bait over her Jack reference. London had been the hunting ground for many a Ripper over the centuries. But why alarm her any further by going into those details?
"Fear not, Simone. If the killings continue for much longer it will. The bodies are piling up and it is only a matter of time before word gets out, which is what seems to worry the Council most. They fear anything which may lead to humans discovering our existence. So far, we have been able to cover most of them up."
"In your vision did you see the person, I mean the vampyre, responsible?"
"I don't know. I saw Anton."
Simone glanced across at Dante. "Anton is a friend of yours?" she questioned, sensing his familiarity.
"He, as well as myself and a few others, were seen as the next generation to run for Council. And it was always our goal to eventually sit on it. We were competitive about our aspirations but in a friendly way. We took all the classes available and worked for various committees."
"Vampyre committees...seriously?"
"Yes, when the Council decides on something it normally sets up a committee to enact it," Dante replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Oh, the bureaucracy," laughed Simone, finding the idea of a system of government for vampyres ludicrous.
"You must remember, there are thousands of vampyres in London. The community takes some governing."
"You really know how to make a girl not sleep at night with such a statement."
"Anyway," continued Dante, "A year ago Anton finally became Fifth Elder. It changed him. He went on a power trip. Then a few months later Elder Abelard died under somewhat mysterious circumstances and Anton was promoted up the ranks."
"Coincidence?"
"I'm not sure. Anton was heavily supported by Elder Simmons. But a couple of months later Anton had a huge argument with the entire Council and no one has seen him since."
"Is this why you fell out with him? Because of politics?"
"No. Anton developed a problem with Zara. And I didn't like it, so our friendship grew distant."
"But you think Anton is behind it all?"
"Let me put it this way...I'm confident he's at least involved. I'm not the only one either. A few vampyres have been whispering his name in relation to these murders."
Dante closed his eyes and for a moment thought of the mysterious blue flame and the cackling voice. What the hell did it mean?
"No, the Council are not going to appreciate hearing it. Especially coming from me," he muttered more to himself than Simone.
"Why won't this so-called Council be happy with you?"
"Once news of my vision gets out, the potential disturbance it will cause will make them most unhappy. You see, until his disappearance, my father was First Elder and lead investigator into the Haan prophecy."
"Your father, whom the Council declared more or less a traitor, was lost to you only a year ago?" Simone gasped.
"Yes, and the following night Zara was murdered by a Rogue vampyre."
So much pain so close together, no wonder the man had issues. These additional pieces to the puzzle, spurred her on. "Did you capture those responsible for either of your losses?"
"No, which is why I became a Watcher again."
Slowly, Simone started to weave together the reasons for Dante's need to invent this world of fantasy. It was probably down to the shock of losing two of the closest people in his life in such a short space of time. This belief he was a vampyre was, in a way, protecting him from dealing with reality.
"Dante, don't you think this might all be connected?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, there is the anniversary of the Haan Prophecy, followed by the disappearance of your father and Zara's death. And then there's your friend Anton..."
"No," said Dante firmly, "I can't believe they are connected...I won't accept it," he mumbled, yet deep down knew she may be right.
The idea Zara was murdered by the same vampyre who had either killed or held his father captive made it all too personal. Yet, he could not ignore the possession of the barman last night or his taunts. They were so similar to Anton's in his vision.
To believe what Simone was suggesting would mean accepting the Haan prophecy might be true and he still had too much doubt within him to make such a declaration. Vision or not.
"Dante, I have to tell you, I really can't believe in vampyres. I think you are creating this world to hide from your real problems." Like the loss of Zara, she thought but refrained from saying so. "However, if people are really being hurt, I'm legally bound to report it to the authorities."
The man's reaction? He began to laugh deeply.
"What's so funny?" she asked a little nervously.
"I'd pay money to see you report what I've just said to the authorities. They'd have a field day."
"Well, regardless of their reaction, I'm worried about you and inclined to recommend further therapy," Simone stated sternly.
Dante ignored her and stared blankly out of the window. He couldn't worry about Simone contacting the 'authorities' – he had bigger fish to fry.
"You should make another appointment," she cajoled as Dante placed his hand on the door.
"I'm afraid our time together is at an end, Dr. Radcliffe," he replied, taking her chin in his hand to hold her stare. Rubbing his thumb across her full lower lip, he looked deeply into her ice blue eyes. "I had wondered if perhaps...well that i
s no longer important."
"What did you wonder?" Simone asked breathlessly, desperately wanting him to say.
Dante sighed. For a brief moment back in her office he’d wondered if their time together might lead her to becoming a confidant...someone he could count on to help him with his visions. But her continued disbelief made her dangerous, which meant she had to be put back into the sea to swim along on her merry way. And so the time had come to take her memory - and never see her again.
Drawing closer to her, he began his enchantment. "Once I shut the door of your car, you will remember nothing of tonight. You will not question why you are here, but simply start the engine and drive home," Dante's deep voice commanded. "Yet later, beautiful Simone, when you slumber, we will meet one last time and fulfill what we both know is our deepest desire."
Dante kissed her deeply, completing his spell. After which he climbed out of the car, shut the door and watched longingly as his beautiful therapist drove away and out of his life forever.
Chapter Six
IN THE MIDST of a dream, the sound of ringing continued incessantly. Fumbling, still half asleep, Simone miraculously located her mobile phone and answered.
"Hello," she groggily murmured.
"Simone! By the goddess, I've been ringing for hours," the theatrical voice of her best friend Penny exclaimed.
Jarred by the unexpected loudness of her friend's voice, Simone's pleasant haze of dreaminess ended abruptly. "Pen, why are you shouting?" she snapped, before noticing she'd inadvertently put her on speaker. "Oh wait, I see why," she conceded, placing the phone on the pillow beside her and settling back into a comfortable position.
"You're not awake yet? I knew something was wrong," Penny declared in her usual dramatic way. "What the hell happened last night? We have a deal and you broke it."
'The deal' her friend referred to was their promise to always let the other know when they returned home from a late night 'assignation'.
"I wasn't on a date, Pen," Simone clarified.
"No, you were only meeting one of your freakish 'evening only' clients for the first time. You know what I think about people who conduct business at night - something's off about them."
"Penny, you should talk - most of your business is done at night," Simone teased.
"Precisely!" her friend retorted. "And I am damn near certifiable, so I know exactly what I am talking about."
"It's your artistic temperament, not insanity, that accounts for your unique ways."
"Save your psycho-babble for the paying customers and stay on point," Penny warned. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I am ecstatic you are not at the bottom of the Thames, but I've been awake since eleven - yes, that's right eleven ante meridiem - and I am never awake before noon. Want to guess why this was?"
Unfortunately, Simone had a strong suspicion what it might be - which meant she was in for one of her friend's more unusual conversations.
"Could I make a coffee first?"
"Coffee!?! It's nigh on tea time."
Simone quickly turned over to verify it herself. The digital alarm clock beside her bed read: 16:57.
Impossible. She rarely slept more than six hours, sleeping the best part of sixteen was unheard of for her. "Pen, this never happens," Simone whispered.
"I know," her friend replied softly, "And if it wasn't for Daryl taking pity on me - or perhaps it was for his own self-preservation...hard to say," Penny mused, her voice trailing away, before coming back with, "Anyway, he was kind enough to check the building's security system and confirmed, albeit under very strict instructions that I was never to ask again, that you had indeed returned home last night. Otherwise, I would have rung Scotland Yard by now or worse...forced myself to go to that architectural abomination you call 'home'."
"Oh dear, poor Daryl," Simone joked. "He's ex-MI5, you know, and your wearing him down strikes me as being quite the accomplishment. I doubt many have."
"Bloody ex-MI5. See this is exactly why we have our 'deal', you attract the strangest of people."
"Uhm, you do realise Daryl is employed as the Head of Security here and thus completely unrelated to my ability to 'attract' strange sorts."
"And you do realise most people who live in your glass prison wouldn't even know who Daryl is - hence, the fact you do proves my point all the same."
Penny's logic really shouldn't be attempted without caffeine in one's system, Simone silently whinged. Unwilling to deny her body's craving any longer, she rolled out of bed.
"I'll ring you back in a few minutes," she bargained. "If I don't have a coffee soon, I might not make it."
Penny laughed, knowing her friend's need for caffeine was epic. "Alright, be quick about it - and remember, Mr. ex-MI5 is only a swipe away."
Simone stretched, amazed by how well rested she felt. It'd been weeks since she last slept properly, thanks to her on-going battle over the future of her career and by extension, her life's path.
Donning a light silk dressing gown, she padded along the curved hallway where her flat's generous three bedrooms were located and entered the open plan expanse of the living room and kitchen.
The bright early evening sun streamed in from the wall of glass running the length of the room facing the river. The large sliding doors led to an outdoor terrace, where London's position on the Thames could be admired in all its glory.
It was somewhat ironic her building's security was overseen by a former MI5 operative, given its location across from her Majesty's Secret Service headquarters. But Daryl assured her on many occasions 'those lot were nothing but a bunch of toffs who played with gadgets' and if she wanted true protection, his former outfit was much more the ticket.
Simone had barely sat down with her freshly made cappuccino, when her mobile started ringing again. Swiping it to speaker, Penny's accusing voice filled the room.
"How long does it take to pee and make one of your gourmet cups of coffee?"
"Tell me why you were awake at such an ungodly hour today," Simone prompted, sipping her intoxicating brew.
"You!" she announced dramatically, picking up where she'd left off earlier. "And this unshakeable feeling something transformative happened to you last night. Did you sleep with your client? Not judging, but if you did, fess up because I need to shake this out of my system. For god's sake, I cleaned my entire studio in a vain attempt to expel it's affects."
Simone inexplicably blushed. Damn Penny and her 'feelings'. She wasn't sure she was ready to talk about last night yet. "Penny, you know I would never do anything so unprofessional, not to mention ethically questionable, like sleep with a client," she assured, although secretly knowing last night she'd been tempted to abandon such lofty ideals.
Her 'client' ending their encounter in the most electrifyingly sexual way ever had certainly not helped on the ethical conundrum she'd faced. The mere thought of Dante Polidori's kiss made her heart flutter.
"So, you're telling me nothing happened and my cosmic juju is messing me about?"
"I'm afraid so, dearest," Simone lied, happy to keep her brush with debauchery to herself for the time being.
"Maybe the universe is trying to tell me I need to have my own hot, orgasmic transformation? And I was just projecting it onto you because you are in worse shape than I am in that department."
"I thought you were in a torrid affair with that boxer, you know. Lord what is his name?"
"Please, that was six months ago. And Joshua was nothing more than casual sex. Extremely pleasurable, I can assure you. But last night, whatever the hell was going on, was carnal. Believe me, there is a difference."
"Oh my, you do need to get out more," Simone joked.
"Hmmm, perhaps," Penny replied enigmatically. "So, who was your mystery client? Another depraved member of the elite?"
"Of a sort. His issues with loss have manifested in a most intriguing fashion," Simone answered, unwilling to elaborate. Especially as she had yet to fully comprehend it for herself.
After
driving away, she’d watched him in the rearview mirror unsure what he'd meant by his final words. Or any of them for that matter. Dante Polidori was one intriguing character. But had he really meant for her to forget him...and everything that had happened between them? Not bloody likely.
It wasn't often a gorgeous man claimed to be a vampyre and she wanted to believe him. She must have it pretty bad for his luscious body to have even contemplated it.
"Intriguing male, you say. Are you sure nothing happened?"
Simone laughed at her persistence. "Penny, nothing happened and I need to get ready. I am on-air in a few hours. Ring you later?"
Penny knew when she was beat. "Alright," she replied, "Later."
After hanging up from Simone, Penny sighed. For a woman supernaturally gifted at knowing when someone lied, Penny always marveled at how terrible her friend was at doing it herself.
WITH THE SETTING sun's rays upon her face, Simone sat in a lounger on her terrace, enjoying the feeling of warmth on her face. The capital had been experiencing some rather extreme weather of late. The British summer was always unpredictable...swinging from glorious sunshine to torrential rain was not really that unusual, the high temperatures, however, were.
And today had been a cracker, reaching highs in the late twenties.
As a bit of a sun worshipper, Simone’s decision to purchase her flat had been made the moment she'd stepped out onto the generous patio area facing the river. The Thames was no Mediterranean, but being on the water had been important to her, as well as having some outside space to enjoy it from.
Still wearing her silk wrapper, she'd come out to enjoy the evening after her conversation with Penny. She needed to time to think, and her best thinking was done in silent contemplation.
And all thought led to one person...Dante Polidori and their session together.
She'd heard of cases where patients had exhibited similar beliefs in being a vampyre, but none had gone into quite so much detail about their world as he had. In fact, most of the papers she'd read focused on the fetish of drinking blood and sleeping inside coffins. Sex seemed at the heart of the condition and whilst Dante had been open about how vampyres could 'sleep with whomever they pleased' he'd not been overly interested in talking about that aspect of his life.
