by Sophia North
"Armageddon indeed", Cecil crooned back on-air, "My friends and I usually refer to it as Brexit. But thankfully this is not a political discussion we're having tonight - rather we are here to remember our dear friend and colleague, Simone. And so, listeners, ring, text or message us with your stories - we'll try to take as many calls as we can. First up is Anton, who wants to share a very special memory of the late Dr. Radcliffe. Good evening Anton, you're on-air."
"No fucking way," Vlad growled.
Simone's eyes widened in horror.
"Cecil, distinguished guests - thank you for taking my call," Anton's unmistakable voice blared from the radio. "Where does one start about the lovely Simone? It was shocking to hear about her passing - I understand she was rather tied up in all sorts of unsavoury matters at the time of her death."
Cecil cleared his throat. "Now see here, sir. Tonight's show is no place for such vulgar talk. You rang to share a memory not desecrate one. I think we shall ..."
"Oh my god it's him - the caller from Simone's last show," Jack could be heard saying in the background.
"Is it you, you vile piece of shit?" Penny announced menacingly, her respectable public persona happily shattered.
"Miss MacGregor, language. What would your tutors from Godolphin's have to say about your dragon tongue - tsk, tsk." Anton smoothly replied. "Though you do sound rather tasty and I am partial to redheads."
"Kill the power, it's the only way." Jack yelled. "Kill the show!"
Suddenly the radio went static. Simone turned to Vlad and shouted: "Vlad, you have to save Penny!"
"Fucking hell. I'm on it, Doc."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
A BUCKET OF water to the face worked miracles at rousing unconscious vampyres. Spluttering, Dante awoke in just such a manner, with the added bonus of being tied to a chair.
He shook his head vigorously to remove the water and blinked his way into discovering he was surrounded by a pack of werewolves, still in human form. "You know, I am finding this latest trend in my life of being jumped and taken captive rather annoying," Dante drawled. "Where has common courtesy gone? Oh wait, I forgot with whom I was speaking. The Langs have only ever operated with a veneer of respectability."
"You talk a lot of shite, mate," the barkeep from the pub replied.
"Fuck, I didn't realise things were so bad the Langs have to rely on the leadership of old men. I'm going to go out on a limb here, but your name wouldn't happen to be Walter?"
The older wolf bristled. "So what if'n it is?"
"No particular reason, there just always seems to be a Walter Lang. And you, my friend, bear all the usual traits."
"Are you quite finished, vamp?" The one they called Marcus asked. Changed from his riding clothes, he wore a pair of jeans and crisp white shirt - a complete transformation in character. Gone was the dandified gentleman and in his place was a man of raw wolf power. "You should be counting your blessings the full moon is not for a few more nights. Otherwise, I suspect you'd not be sitting there spewing your shite."
The wolf strode to a side buffet and poured a drink. "As it is, my patience wears thin. We've established you're not the brightest candle ever lit - for only a fool would wander onto our territory knowing what we can do to vampyres in wolf-form. But still, I have to say, your presence here intrigues me."
Dante eyed the man warily. He knew who the real alpha of the pack was - and Walter wasn't it. "I could be asking you the same question if the tables were turned, so to speak." Seeing Marcus's snort in disbelief at his claim, he pressed on. "What was one of your kind doing living, working, in London? Let's pull out the treaty and see what the clause on that particular infraction says, shall we?"
Marcus threw back his head and roared with laughter, his followers joining in until the entire Great Hall echoed with the laughter of werewolves. "My ancestors were wise to take the family motto 'mors rapit omnia' - Death seizes all things. For here sits death and he seizes at straws to save his own skin."
"So Daryl, who worked for Vauxhall Security, as its Head no less, wasn't one of yours? And may I refresh your Vamp 101 lessons, I can smell the same stink from you. Wolf clan scents are very distinctive."
Marcus ceased laughing. "My business in London was temporary, it did not require Lowerton's sanction."
"All wolf presence requires Lowerton's sanction," Dante countered. "Do try again."
"So the Elders sent you to exact their pound of flesh? A rather extreme act over what is nothing more than me sending my men to protect my future bride."
Dante perked up at that. "And who is the poor woman, fated to die by your hand?"
Marcus chuckled. "You do know your Lang lore, but I can assure you my mother is alive and happily ensconced at Wraxhall Priory House. Proof, the curse is patently untrue."
"Well, of course she is - her name's Edwina not Elaenor."
The wolf banged his glass down. "And my future bride's name is Simone Radcliffe, not that it would matter."
His bride was Simone? WTF?
"Shame your wolf's dead and Simone will never be your bride," Dante's silky voice did not diminish the threatening edge to it.
"You slayed one of my wolves and have taken my bride?" Marcus circled Dante, his fury etched on his face, his eyes glowing golden like a wolf's.
"Simone is not yours to take. She belongs to me!" Dante challenged back.
"To you? I think not," Marcus snorted contemptuously. "As I am sure you are aware, we Langs, know our way around the law. I have a signed contract with her halfling father. Do you?"
Dante's eyes narrowed. He didn't know what Lang was playing at, Simone's father had never been in her life. And what the fuck did he mean by referring to her dead-beat dad as a halfling?
"I don't fucking need one. She is mine. Fuck her father."
"No, according to Fae terms and conditions, I get to choose who I fancy most from the bloodline. And my preferences do not swing in that direction, so the father is quite safe from my affections." Marcus smirked as he turned to stroll back towards the large onyx fireplace dominating the hall to place another log on the fire.
Simone had a Fae halfling father? Just his fucking luck. Fae folk contractual obligations were magically binding and bastards to break.
"And where might I find the lovely Simone? From your vehement declaration of possession, I am thinking tucked away in one of your kind's typical 'love nests', " Marcus questioned, turning back to stare at Dante. "I have to say her value has decreased dramatically since learning she cavorts with vampyres. Walter, aren't you in need of a new wife?"
The old wolf leered at the prospect of fresh young meat. He was an old man and liked the idea of fucking a vamp's woman. "Aye, I be ready for a newer model. Me Meg's getting older and costs me a fucking fortune with all her idears."
Dante lunged but the ropes binding him held. He'd had enough of their fucking with him. "You're making an unnecessary enemy in me," he growled menacingly. "And the way the tides are changing, that would be unwise. For all involved."
Marcus arched an eyebrow. "Walter's right, you do talk a lot of shite. Wolves, see our guest is shown to his quarters - the North tower will do nicely methinks. And don't kill him yet, he will make excellent prey for our Full Moon Hunt."
UNCEREMONIOUSLY DUMPED IN a small room at the top of a narrow, winding staircase, his host waited for his wolves to finish their work before ascending himself. "Don't look so glum, vamp. Who knows, maybe you'll out fox us and stay, ah dead," the Lord of the Cotswold clan remarked. "And to show you I'm not a complete bastard, I'll give you a tip - don't try to escape. Vampyres are not the only creatures with fae connections. Once I leave this tower it will be sealed by their magic - impenetrable for those on the outside, impossible for those within to escape. In both cases, extremely painful to vamps who try either tactic - with possibly fatal consequences."
"Lang, you must hear me out. There are forces afoot in Lowerton who threaten all of our existences. We need to work together to def
eat this common enemy."
Dante thought he might as well try to negotiate. The wolf and he could exchange opinions about Simone's ownership later.
"Your vampyre politics are of no interest to me. But I will be sending a team of wolves to find my future wife - you better hope they report back with happy news. My family's peculiar penchant for collecting Spanish Inquisition memorabilia may have a use yet."
Marcus closed the door and turned the key in the lock until it went 'click'.
Defeated, Dante looked out of a sliver of a window, created from an opening within the stones of the tower. In the distance, the nearly full moon cast its bright glow across the landscape. There wasn't any evidence of civilisation as far as he could see, and with vamp vision, this was a significant distance.
"Caw, caw, caw."
The sound of a raven.
"Alfred, is that you?" Dante bellowed from his lofty prison.
"Caaaawwwwww." The raven answered 'yes' in its own language.
"Thank fuck! You are definitely getting a raise," he congratulated, before pressing on with a flurry of commands. "I need you to go to Vlad. Tell him he'd better have made inroads with the Fae. He's going to need them. The fucking Lang wolves have me imprisoned in their North Tower with the assistance of fae magic."
Alfred started squawking back.
"Slow down, my Raven isn't what it used to be and you're hard enough to understand as a man." Alfred squawked condescendingly slower.
"No, I don't know how the hell I got here. One minute I was standing on Vauxhall Bridge - the next in a river, under a bridge, in the fucking Cotswold's."
Another cacophony of incredulous caws expelled from his loyal servant.
"Yes, I do appreciate the improbability of my ending up in the Cotswold's given the physics of the Thames' tidal flow. For Christ's sake, I am not Vlad! I am well aware I should have ended up downstream, not up it," Dante bit out, frustrated by his servant's constant interruptions. He was only too aware how his arrival at Broadstone Heath made absolutely no sense. It did not require Alfred to point it out constantly.
"Alfred, shut up and listen - because what I am going to tell you is very, very important...tell Vlad he is not to ever leave Simone's side. The werewolf Marcus Lang claims she is his by right of her halfling father's signature on some sort of fucking medieval bridal contract!"
The raven went ballistic with his next round of questioning.
"Alfred, calm down! We do not have time to go into great detail. Vlad just needs to know there are werewolves coming for Simone and she has an unknown halfling father - her safety is to be his only priority, he is not to come here. Tell him to send Darius, he is familiar with this land. Now go, I have nothing more to say."
Alfred cawed and flew away.
Frustrated at having been taken out of the game, Dante lost his temper and rushed at the door, thinking to try and break free. How strong could fae magic really be?
Zapped by a bolt of blue lightning for his efforts, he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Verdict? Pretty fucking strong.
Chapter Thirty
"PUT ME DOWN, you lummox! I swear to the goddess, if you've hurt Simone - I'll kill you myself!"
Vlad deposited Penny onto the leather couch. Blindfolded, with her wrists and ankles bound in what appeared to be Hermes silk scarves, Penny was not going to go down without a fight. She kicked and flailed her arms around, blindly trying to make contact with the fiend who'd kidnapped her.
"I'll have your guts for garters, you hear me!" she announced threateningly.
"And grind my bones to make your bread? " Vlad drawled amusingly, enjoying the show. His captive took full advantage and caught him with her knee just below the family jewels. Vlad was not impressed. "Stop this nonsense, or I shan't untie you."
Penny stilled. Homicidal maniacs were known for their weird fascination with quoting nursery rhymes, weren't they?
"Ah, marvellous. My Greco-Gaelic dragon finally sees sense. You had me worried there for a moment, sweetheart. I was starting to think you were a tad dense."
"It's you," she hissed in accusation. "The Viking! I might have guessed. Untie me this instant - and where is Simone? Simone? Simone!"
"She is close at hand, but I wanted to savour the moment, you understand. So, I've taken the liberty of delaying the announcement of our arrival for just a tick." Vlad gently untied the scarves, starting at her feet, then wrists, until finally removing the one acting as her blindfold.
The process of her unbinding was incredibly erotic, her Viking captor certainly took his time and opportunities. Penny sat primly on the couch, as he went about his work, her breath every now and then catching when he stole the odd moment to gently touch her body in all the right places.
Blindfold removed, she opened her eyes. Her friend was one hundred percent correct - he was every inch a Viking. With pale blonde shoulder-length hair, tousled from the speed with which she'd felt they'd moved at - he towered above her. A Norse god in black leather.
"Do I live up to expectations?" the handsome devil asked seductively, a wicked grin on his perfectly sculpted lips. "Because you absolutely live up to mine." Taking a strand of her long wavy hair, he rubbed it between his fingers. "Molten fire, exactly as I suspected."
The door to the library burst open.
"Penny! I thought I heard you, but couldn't be sure - one minute I could hear you yelling and the next silence. Are you alright?" Simone rushed to her friend's side. "I cannot thank you enough, Vlad. She looks unscathed from the night's adventures."
"Vlad, eh? What else would you call a Viking? Nigel?" Penny snorted derisively.
He liked her spirit. After being trussed up and hauled through London on his shoulder, her first impulse was to insult him. Let's see how much she was able to take from him, the little spitfire.
"Think you could take one more 'V' about me?" Vlad innocently asked.
"You mean other than the addition of venal bastard?" she asked sweetly.
Vlad roared in approval. "What a sharp little tongue you have, Penelope."
Simone watched their interaction and started to worry at where Vlad's word play was headed. She hadn't had the best reaction to discovering vampyres were real. So as for Penny's? Well, there was only one way to find out.
"Vlad, follow my lead, please. We must handle this matter delicately," Simone announced, taking her friend's hand. "Pen, I need to tell you something about Vlad and you mustn't freak out, okay?"
Penny's stomach dropped. Vlad was Simone's 'special friend' - the one she'd written she'd be staying with. Secretly disappointed, and somewhat pissed by his flirting with her whilst sleeping with her best friend, Penny patted Simone's hand in return. "I'm sure I can handle it."
"Vlad's a vampyre," Simone announced. "Viking, please - show her your fangs."
Vlad flashed his pearly whites at her, his fangs clearly on display.
Penny immediately turned and smacked Simone across the top of her arm. "See! I told you the supernatural was real."
The caw of a raven rang out as Alfred soared into the library and flapped his way to Vlad. Settling in front of the vampyre, he instantly transformed into his human self.
Penny gasped. "The bird is a man!" and then promptly passed out.
Vlad raised an appraising brow at Simone, as she cradled her friend's limp, unconscious body. "She has no problem with me being a vampyre, but faints at the sight of Alfred, a harmless fucking bird? Peculiar woman."
SIMONE ABSENTMINDEDLY PLAYED with a lock of Penny's hair as she digested Alfred's news about Dante and what had happened to him. Initially she was elated at hearing Dante was alive and well - albeit in the wilds of the Cotswold's. But the real twist to the night was learning her birth father was alive. The bit about him bartering her away as a bride to a werewolf clan leader had still not computed.
As for Vlad's reaction to Alfred's tale, two words summed it up nicely. Fucking livid.
"The Lang's? Of all the clan
s, he would have to end up taken by the most duplicitous, evil cunts. And of course, Marcus Lang would have fae connections - he probably has bridal contracts on a fucking harem of halfling women. Don't worry Simone, you will never be his wife - if Dante doesn't kill him first, I am next in line."
Half fae? she'd thought. It explained so much. Her abilities were a gift from dear old dad - the degenerate, abandon-your-pregnant-wife bastard.
"Simone?"
She looked at Vlad blankly and after seeing her expression, he quickly moved to her side. Gently lifting a still unconscious Penny in his arms, Vlad's actions finally elicited a response from Simone.
"What are you doing with Penny?" she snapped.
"Easy there, lioness. I'm going to take the dragon to bed, er...I mean put her to bed. We need to talk. And I think we can both agree, limiting Penelope's exposure to what's happening would be best."
"Yes, of course. My apologies. Could she be put in a room near mine?"
"How's across the hall sound?"
It sounded wonderful. Simone wanted Penny close by in case she was needed. Her friend was going to have a lot to say when she awoke. Simone cringed inwardly thinking about that future conversation. It was wrong, but Simone secretly hoped Penny slept for many, many hours to come.
When Vlad returned, he wasted no time in laying out the ground rules concerning her foreseeable future. "No one enters this house but me. Got that Alfred," he ordered. "The current guest list needs to be revoked immediately. You have twenty minutes. Get it done."
Alfred nodded, transformed into his raven form and flew away.
Simone's brow furrowed at the notion of being on lock-down. There were matters she needed to address about the news concerning her father. And she was not going to let her life be controlled by a couple of alpha vampyres, despite their noble intentions to protect her.
