by Sophia North
The smell of Thailand assaulted her nostrils when she walked into the kitchen, her bouquet of flowers, in a vase on the table, provided an exotic splash of colour to complement her feast.
"Please, have a seat. There is a bottle of water for you, it will help flush out any remaining toxins - the spiciness of the food will help too."
"Then it is a good thing I love spicy food - Thai especially."
Dante presented her with a steaming pile of Pad Thai noodles. "I gathered as much after finding your hoard of take-away menus. For a life form who requires food to survive, your kitchen was a wonderment to behold. The cupboards were bare and the fridge seemed to act only as your coffee bean humidor."
"I'm a single, high-powered professional - what did you expect? Nigella in the kitchen? But I must say, I am enjoying your telling me the truth without the need for questions."
"Cheers for noticing. I thought it the best way to get the ball rolling."
"Hmm, I am of a more pragmatic nature, so I made a list."
"By all means then, we will go down your preferred path."
Simone slid her hand into her back jeans pocket and produced a neatly folded piece of paper. "I suppose the first order of business is to thank you for my clothes, although it was somewhat depressing to realise most of them are suits and cocktail dresses. My lack of casual apparel reveals an unflattering tale - I don't seem to know how to have any fun."
Dante chuckled. "I always wondered what it was I sensed in your voice at times. As I told you in our session, there was something about that woman caller ... Dorothy, I believe ... yes, Dorothy ... your voice changed when you and she spoke. That was the night I realised not only did I need you, but that in some way you needed me too. Perhaps it was to bring passion back into your life."
Simone swallowed her noodles. A lack of passion described her life perfectly. How strange a vampyre made sense of it better than she.
"You've certainly delivered on that score," she conceded. "But back to my list," she announced, unwilling to dwell too long on the subject.
"Yes, your list. Alright, I'm ready - hit me."
"One: Horatio - who, why - human."
Dante smirked at her officiousness. "Succinct, I like it. Who? Hmm, ah yes, you recall I told you there were humans who were aware of our existence - well, Horatio is one of them."
"Them?"
"The Ophanim Order - a group of humans who represent the interests of their kind."
The explanation puzzled her. Humans were represented by an Order of some sorts? It all sounded a tad medieval to her. "Representation in, say something like a United Nations for the human and supernatural races?" Maybe things were more progressive than Dante was letting on.
"It's not quite as chaotic as that!" Dante laughed. "I'd say relations are more like the diplomatic machinations of Elizabeth I's court - love, betrayal and secret alliances Tudor-style - the ultimate bloodline of contradiction."
"Ah, so it is a love/hate kind of thing - not so unlike the UN."
"When you put it that way, I suppose not," he graciously conceded, but the continued mirth dancing in his eyes didn't convince her he meant a word of it.
"Is this why you told Horatio his reception at the Meet tomorrow will be frosty - relations between humans and vampyres are currently tense?"
"More like non-existent and have been since the seventeen hundreds. Only some of our kind speaks with some of their kind - like I said, Tudor-style diplomacy."
"And you are one of your kind who speaks, but the others you and Vlad recruited are not - hence the frostiness potential."
"That about sums it up, yes. In fact, as far as I know, the only vampyre in the past three hundred years to have had any dealings with humans has been my father. I was a, what you might term, 'late-to-the-game' sort."
Simone chuckled. "Horatio implied as much. But let's put this topic to one side for the moment and focus on the rift you mentioned between the two worlds. It leads perfectly to question number two: The Terrors? - cause and impact - Bloodlines/Bans?"
Dante whistled low in response. "How long have you allocated for us? You may be able to distil your question into a few words when the truth is volumes have been written on the subject."
"Fair enough, I'll be more precise. You spoke about the role the study of genetics played in creating the turmoil in your world, AKA The Terrors. Does this bear any relevance to what is currently happening with the blood supply?"
"Good question, my good doctor - and one I hadn't yet considered. You and Horatio are going to make a fantastic team - I can see that your minds work along similar lines. You'll have to forgive me but I am not best placed to answer that one. Do you have something easier?"
"I might, but I want your word that you will give full access to all the information you have about The Terrors - do you give it?"
"Within reason?" he asked.
"Yes, of course, it will be conducted within the parameters of fair and open dialogue in order to reach understanding. Is there any other definition?"
She wouldn't give an inch. Damn, he wanted her. Bad.
"Done, next question."
Simone held up her sheet, pretending to examine it thoroughly. Her next one was tricky, she wanted to take a moment or two to carefully word it but for some inexplicable reason she ended up blurting it out instead.
"Sex..."
And before she could say anything further, Dante announced: "I'm definitely pro."
Exasperated by his humour, she sniped. "I'm being serious."
"About sex? So am I - very pro and a strong advocate for plenty of it. You?"
"Don't make fun of me, I have questions. About you know...what it's like."
Dante looked at her in puzzlement. "You're a doctor and an extremely attractive woman - are you telling me you don't know about sex?"
"Of course I know about sex! Love it, have had plenty of it ... with men!"
"Ah, you want to know if it is different with a vampyre. Truth is, I don't know - I've never been with a human woman as a vampyre. For me, I never wanted to be with a woman who wasn't my Mate."
"What do you mean by Mate?"
Dante hesitated, unsure if he should proceed. "It's a foolish romantic notion from a time no longer relevant to my kind."
"Don't be coy, tell me, was Zara yours?"
This was exactly where he didn't want the conversation to go, but he couldn't lie to Simone. "Yes."
His confession crushed her heart slightly, but she didn't have anyone to blame except herself. She'd demanded honesty and so she received it.
"So if Zara was your Mate - you're telling me you and she never .."
"Consummated our love? No, never. We did other .. stuff." He finished lamely.
"So the other morning - us. Were you going to, you know - go all the way with me?" Her attempts at an adult discussion were as pathetic as his.
"What I feel for you is like nothing I've ever felt before - with Zara there was a bond, I will not cheapen her memory by denying it - but you, you make me ache in desire to be with you. So yes, the other morning, I would have made you mine - completely."
Simone's hand shook as she raised her glass to drink some water. The vamp really did have a way with words. "Okay, good to know. I think that will do nicely for now. If you would be so kind as to direct me to the section in your library about The Terrors, I think we'll call end of play for the night."
"Good to know? Really Simone, are you sure you want to leave it at that?" he asked suggestively, revving up his seductive magic on her.
"Dante, I could easily let you take me upstairs and have your way with me all night - and it would be fantastic. You may not have had your fair share of human women but your skills at pleasing my sex are quite ... advanced. No doubt from centuries of practice with your opposite sex. Ah, ah - before you call me prudish or jealous, let me say this: I definitely appreciate their contribution to your education. But where would a night of passion leave us? Satisfied? Absolutely. Yet
also in a much more complicated web. Don't know about you, but I could do without any further complexities for the time being."
"So you want our relationship to be platonic," he surmised disappointed.
No, what she really wanted was for him to ravish her on the kitchen table. "For now. Or we should at least tone down the sexual innuendo and limit opportunities where more intimate contact may take place."
"Platonic eunuch - got it," he barked. "Shall I escort you to the library, Dr. Radcliffe?" Dante stood and formally offered her his arm - like the eighteenth century gentleman he used to be.
Better to have him angry than trying to seduce her for the moment. "It's the twenty-first century, Dante - I can walk there myself."
Chapter Twenty-Three
SIMONE STRETCHED LIKE a contented cat. Last night was an unforgettable experience. For hours she'd poured over book after book until she finally dragged herself to bed, where she'd slept like the dead. She loved a good data download - it was like a night of hot, carnal sex for her.
"Good morning, Simone."
"Dante!" she screeched, scrambling to cover her nearly naked state beneath a sheet. She'd been too tired last night to do more than strip down to her panties before collapsing in exhaustion on the bed. "I thought we agreed to limit the intimate opportunities."
"Yes, we did, didn't we? How remiss of me, my apologies." Dante's feigned remorse was evident by the way he hungrily took in every glorious inch of her exposed bronzed skin. "We need to leave soon, Vlad's waiting downstairs."
The Meet. He was staying true to his word and taking her along.
"What am I going to wear?" she asked, slightly panicked. Her wardrobe was sadly lacking in the what-to-wear when going to a vampyre event.
"If you'd dare to look my way, you'll find Alfred's procured a suitable range of options for you to choose from."
Simone's head popped out from beneath the sheet. "You bought me a vampyre appropriate wardrobe?"
"Yes - leather, whips, chains - Alfred covered all the bases. For fuck's sake, pick something, get dressed and be downstairs in ten."
Once assured she was on her own again, Simone leapt out of bed. A rack of clothes awaited her perusal. Sliding through the hangers, she settled on her outfit, and after hooking the hangers on her index finger, turned to make her way to the bathroom to get ready.
"ARE YOU SURE you want to take the risk, mate? I appreciate the sentiment - a reasonable woman is much easier to handle than a psycho-bitch - but there is a line, even for me." Vlad stood at the mantle, dressed as Dante was, in a black Watcher uniform.
"No one can have the slightest inkling who Simone really is to me. I need you to do this..."
"What does Vlad have to do for you about me?"
The two vampyres turned to find a completely transformed Simone awaiting them. Dressed in form hugging black, slightly flared, leather trousers, black stiletto boots and an equally revealing black leather jacket zipped down to reveal her ample cleavage, she took their collective breath away.
Vlad let out a low whistle of appreciation. "No idea what you just said - but Doc, you wear leather well."
Nervously smoothing back her slicked blond hair, she asked. "It's not too much?"
Vlad walked past Dante and patted him on his black leather clad chest. "Good luck with your plan, mate. I'll be waiting on the platform. Tick, tock."
Simone lifted her brow at Dante as Vlad passed by her without saying another word. "Is something wrong with how I look? I only picked from what was on offer..."
"You look incredible - too much so, truth be told. Vlad may be right."
"About?"
"My inability to let him do what he must if we are going to pull this off. Bastard. I hate it when he's right."
"Good god, what is it?" she snapped.
"You need to be his human supplicant tonight at the Meet. No one can know who you really are - it is too dangerous."
"That's it? I played Hamlet at my all-girls public school - supernaturally tortured human soul won't be a problem. Tick, tock - let's go."
Reluctantly, Dante led her into the main hall. Alongside one of the massive columns, he stopped and clicked open a curved marble-clad door. "Vlad will meet you at the other end."
Simone stepped tentatively into a cylindrical chamber inside the pillar. "It's a secret lift," she exclaimed.
"Welcome to my world, love. Hold tight, I'll join you shortly."
THE CARRIAGE RUMBLED along the track - invisibly steered by an enchantment Simone could not make heads nor tails of, no matter how many times Vlad tried to explain it to her.
"Simone, are you clear about what you need to do?" Dante asked sharply as the train drew to a halt in a puff of steam.
"Crystal - stop fretting. The more likely candidate for letting the team down is you with all your clucking. I've treated sexual deviants, Vlad's role is no great leap for me to work with."
"Careful sweetheart, your making me want to raise my game from slightly deviant to full-on devil, just to see how well you cope," Vlad joked.
Dante shot him a look of warning. The carriage doors opened. Time for the show.
Vlad gripped her arm and pulled her to his side. "Stay close, keep your head down and don't look at anyone but me. Ever. You are here to listen and will only speak when we agreed. Dante, she's with me now."
Jostled through a crowd of vampyres, Vlad steered Simone down a long corridor and onto a large stage. The noise was deafening, there had to be nearly five, six hundred vampyres milling about the intimately sized theatre. Intent on following orders, Simone kept her gaze down, with only an occasional scan through her lashes.
She'd briefly spied Dante weaving his way amicably through the crowd. He was hard for her to miss, given she'd spent the ride over trying not to openly stare in admiration at the way he wore his Watcher uniform. In the past, she'd taken great joy in teasing Penny about her attraction to men in uniform. It seemed so cliché.
Her opinion drastically changed when presented with Dante Polidori decked out in head-to-toe black leather, the only flash of colour being the red piping on the collar of his long leather coat. To steal Vlad's words - he wore leather well.
"Mate, who's the dish?" A short, rugby-built vamp called out to Vlad from the pit.
"Mine, fuck-head. Piss off."
Simone stifled a gasp as Vlad dragged her against him and suggestively licked her throat. "And only mine to taste." He kissed her passionately, driving his tongue into her mouth before tossing her to the stage floor.
The crowd roared in appreciation. "Silence!" Vlad commanded. "We are not here to watch me enjoy my latest toy - that's for the after-party." He winked suggestively and strutted the boards to loud laughter. "Why are we here?" he roared.
"For Lowerton," they shouted back.
"And who's the enemy?"
"Those who threaten, those who destroy."
"What happens to traitors?"
"They die by our order. By us who watch, by us who protect."
"Fuck yah, brothers - that's what I am talking about. Us, the Watchers!" Vlad walked the stage, his arms aloft like in victory, to his fellow Watchers chants. When the noise died down, he continued. "As you know, Dante and I claimed primitivus sangial, First Blood - which means you bunch of fuckers answer to us. Does anyone here dispute this?"
The theatre was silent. "I didn't think so. Then let's get down to it. Brother Dante, the floor is yours."
Dante joined Vlad on stage to address the group. "Brothers, Lowerton faces its greatest threat since The Terrors - Anton and his followers must be neutralised and then destroyed. They have used the Haan Prophecy to justify their actions to seize power and take control of the Vampyre world. And it is up to us to stop them."
"But I thought you and your father were 'believers', mate. And didn't you just stand in front of the council and declare you had a vision about Anton's role and its relation to the prophecy," Darius, who sat on stage with other senior vamps, provocatively draw
led. A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.
Leave it to fucking Darius to be the wrench in a perfectly good plan. Dante and Vlad had decided to keep the prophecy talk to a minimum, it wasn't exactly a crowd pleasing subject.
"Yo, fuckhead," Vlad called out. "Are you challenging a First Blood?"
Darius leaned back in his chair, undaunted by Vlad's threatening tone. "Easy brother, a vamp's got the right to ask the question. Dante doesn't need to hide behind your skirts. First Blood doesn't mean you and he are dictators."
No one expected what happened next. In an instant, Dante had Darius in a throat clamp, with his feet dangling off the ground. "It means you follow my fucking orders and keep your opinions to yourself." Tightening his grip, he continued. "Do you have a problem with that?"
Darius grinned. "No, mate," he choked out. Dante released him. "Just wanted to see if you had the stones for the job," he rasped. "You do." He offered Dante his forearm and they clasped each other in solidarity.
The scene settled, Dante turned back to the group. "We have enough to deal with, without vamp beliefs distracting us from our purpose. But I think we can all agree Anton is into some fucked up shit regardless of the source. And we need to focus on the task at hand. Our first order of business is the tainted blood matter. Vlad and I have entrusted its investigation to Friend Horatio who is our guest tonight. Horatio, please - the stage is yours."
Simone sat at Vlad's feet, her cheek pressed against his leather clad thigh, which allowed him to occasionally stroke her hair. Not the most dignified position, but it meant she was in the heart of the action and could hear everything said.
Dante's request for Horatio made her heart skip a beat. What if the old man recognised her and blew their cover story to smithereens? Vlad, sensing her fear, splayed his hand across her face and in a dominating gesture turned and pressed it into his thigh. And Simone was grateful to him for doing so - it ensured her anonymity remained intact.
