by Sophia North
"Fire," Wilhalf replied. "When he was executed he was burnt at the stake but somehow his spirit fled the flames and escaped its final death. Trap him in the physical plane and the flames will finish him off for good this time."
"Or until he finds another way to return."
"No," Wilhalf murmured softly, "I don't believe he will ever be able to come back."
A strange noise caught Dante's attention. Something was outside. He could hear the heavy 'clomp, clomp' sound of feet on grass. Picking up several new sounds, he realised there was more than one creature approaching.
He glanced at Wilhalf. "Werewolves?" he whispered.
Wilhalf waved at him to come along and the two moved quietly outside. In the distance, figures slowly advanced on the abbey.
"Ah, good. They're here," Wilhalf chuckled.
They were not werewolves at all - they were fae folk. Dante looked at Wilhalf in surprise.
"Go on inside, everyone," directed Wilhalf at the arriving numbers. "Magnus, you know what needs to be done. Dante and I will be ready shortly. I'll signal when it is time to begin."
The old vampyre turned to Dante, the light in his eyes seemed to flicker for an instant. "I am very old, Dante, very tired. I should have left this world long ago, but I stayed to right my wrong."
Alarmed by the old vamp's sudden melancholy, and strangely phrased declaration, Dante reached out. "We could not do without you, Wilhalf. Everyone values your experience and knowledge – you have steered our world for many centuries..."
"More lifetimes than I can count ... but age is no guarantee of wisdom." Wilhalf replied. "Thankfully, there is wisdom older than mine at hand to help us. Magnus, we're ready!"
The ancient vamp proceeded to bang his staff onto the ground.
In reply, the ground rumbled beneath Dante's feet. "Wilhalf, what's happening?"
"Destiny, dear boy. May the Creator save you, and me, for what I am about to do..."
A great crack in the earth's surface gaped open and swallowed Dante whole.
Chapter Thirty-Two
SIMONE GNAWED ON her fingernail, a bad habit she'd developed during her years at Godolphin's when she was feeling particularly under pressure. She'd barely slept since Dante went missing and the cracks were beginning to show.
The sound of a man clearing his throat brought Simone abruptly back to the present.
"Hard habit to break when confronted by such troubling times," Horatio said from the library door. "When I start chewing on my pen, my colleagues know it's wise to leave me well enough alone."
Simone guiltily tucked her hand away. "Thank you for coming, Horatio," she greeted him warmly.
"Of course, I've come. Did I not promise I would? And, see here," he said, holding up a file folder, "these are the test results we spoke of the other night. I would have come sooner...but after everything that happened the night of the Meet, thought it best to await your summons."
"Dante and I appreciated that. Please come, join me. I've made a fresh pot of tea, if you would care for one."
Horatio came forward and sat in the chair opposite. "I would very much, thank you."
Simone went about the ritual of preparing their tea in silence. Unsure how best to broach the subject of his lying, she decided to allow Horatio to lead their conversation until an opportune moment presented. Only then would she pounce.
Accepting his tea, the older gentleman settled back into his chair. "I have to confess being surprised at how long it's taken to hear from you. But here we are, Friday night and I fear the delay has put me at sixes and sevens. To be honest, I am unsure where best to start."
Surprised by his obvious distress, Simone placed her cup and saucer on the table. "I find the most productive way to pierce a difficult situation is to aim at the heart. Things usually flow freely from that point."
Horatio wrung his hands worriedly. "I was untruthful about my cure being a vaccination the other night. The composition of the virus keeps changing, and although uncontaminated blood does cure a vampyre - it does not prevent a future infection. It is why I have been so eager to see you. I'd hoped you could review the file, perhaps see something I cannot."
"Why didn't you simply explain the current situation to Dante and his vamps? I don't understand your reason for lying," she asked, genuinely perplexed.
"I know it was wrong of me to lie, but I felt once we put our heads together a cure would not be long in coming. So I gambled, convinced the vampyres needed to be strong going into battle - not weakened from an underlying fear of possible future infection."
Simone's heart flooded with relief. Horatio's dishonesty was not because he was a traitor, rather he wanted to ensure he didn't diminish the vampyres battle preparations whilst he sorted out a cure.
"I knew at the theatre there had to be a good reason for your lie," she burst out enthusiastically, not realising what she'd said until after it was out of her mouth. She'd inadvertently revealed her gift to an outsider - the one thing Aunt Vivian made her swear never to do. Dante and Penny were selfish exceptions.
"Fear not, Simone," he said, after noticing her reaction. "I am aware of what you are capable of - better than anyone else actually. My dear, I need to tell you something and if I make a complete meal of it, I hope you will look kindly on an old man and forgive me should I upset you with the truth."
Simone hesitantly asked. "You know about my abilities? Is this through your work at the Ophanim Order?"
"Dante, told you about us?" Horatio asked. It was his turn to be surprised.
Worried Dante may be seen as having betrayed his trust, she was quick to respond. "He did not say much and only revealed the truth to me in order to regain my trust. I was going to leave him, you see - not that he knew it - but you know how bad things were when I learned the truth about Samsun's bite."
"Steady, my dear. I am not upset with Dante telling you about the Order or that I belong to it, for that matter. My question came more from astonishment than censure. Dante isn't exactly renown for 'opening-up' - I am glad he did so. You must mean much to him."
Simone chewed her lip nervously. "I'm not sure what I mean to him," she mumbled softly. Unlike Vlad, she did not believe Alfred's explanation about Dante falling into the Thames and mysteriously ending up in the Cotswold's.
In her mind, it was just guy code for: wanted to check something out, but rather than admit he didn't give two figs about her peace of mind, he'd concocted the outrageously insulting I-was-magically-transported-away-against-my-will excuse. The whole thing stank to high heaven, along with the notion she was betrothed to a werewolf.
"What was that you said, my dear?" Horatio asked politely.
"Nothing of consequence. Let's get back to what you were saying earlier, you know, about how you understand my powers better than anyone. Does the Ophanim Order know about me? I'm amazed to learn your institution would be interested in humans with gifts."
Horatio raised a quizzical brow. "What exactly did Dante say we did?"
"Oh, he wasn't overly detailed. He compared it to being a group of humans who represent us at a sort of supernatural UN. Although come to think of it, I was the one who likened it that way. Dante described relations as diplomacy 'Tudor-style' - not that I could see much difference."
Horatio's rich laughter filled the library. Her description was rather dotty and Simone joined in.
"Perhaps, I should explain what the Order does so you can better afford us an appropriate title. Yet, given our history, I'm not sure one will be easily forthcoming."
"Well I hope the same can't be said for a cup of coffee, because by the goddess I need one." A familiar voice called out.
Simone rose to greet her friend. "Penny, you're awake! Horatio, this my best friend Penny - she, ah...she is my guest for a short spell."
“Hello, Penny,” Horatio welcomed warmly. “Pleased to meet you.”
Penny grasped the older man's outstretched hand. "You appear to be relatively normal. But after last night, I reserve the right to c
hange my mind."
Settling on the leather couch, she waved her hand to encourage the pair to continue with their conversation. "You were about to explain about this supernatural Order of yours. Pray don't let my presence stop you. I, for one, am especially interested in learning more about Vikings... and their natures as vampyres."
Horatio hesitated. “You can trust her,” Simone reassured. "As you can tell, Penny and I have no secrets."
“Hmm yes, that much is clear. But I'm not sure it is wise. Humans need to be cautious in their dealings with the supernatural world,” Horatio replied sternly.
Pouring herself a cup of tea, Penny eyed the older gentleman warily. She'd been awake for hours but had resisted the urge to come downstairs. Too much had happened and she'd needed time to process. But as she laid in the most comfortable bed she'd ever slept in, an uneasiness grew. Unable to ignore it any longer she'd come downstairs.
"Horatio, I was threatened on-air by some deranged vampyre, abducted by another impertinent vamp ass and witnessed a bird transform into a man," Penny remarked stirring her tea methodically. "I think it's safe to say the supernatural horse has bolted, no point in trying to close the barn door now. Spill."
The older man's eyes danced in merriment. "Very well. Perhaps, the first thing to understand about the Order is that only humans with special abilities are admitted. And I sense there is more to you, Penny, than meets the eye."
"My Gran would like you, she has a soft spot unusual characters. What might be the special talent that gained you admission?"
"Like Simone, I too know when someone is failing to tell the truth."
Something tweaked inside of Simone at his words. Yes, listen to your instincts, her inner voice encouraged.
"That is the second time you've inferred a connection between us," she ventured. "Earlier, you implied there was something I needed to know that might require my forgiveness of you. I'm pretty sure it didn't have anything to do with Dante. What were you going to say to me?"
"Simone, what's wrong...?" Penny asked, sensing her friend's growing agitation. Simone held her hand up for silence.
Horatio shifted uncomfortably under Simone's hard stare.
"Heeeee's your father, Simone," Alfred cried, his human voice coming from his raven beak as he soared into the library. "Ruuunnn! Your rooooom. Safe."
The truth slammed through her: Horatio was her halfling father!
Penny, who had no clue what was going on, reacted to the bird's warning. Racing at Horatio, she tackled him to the floor. "Go, Simone! Run as far away as you can. I don't know what the hell is going on but you need to get out of this place. Operation FU Bitches is on!"
SIMONE MOVED THROUGH the packed crowds at St. Pancras station, not sure if she was grateful for the throngs or not. She really wasn't thinking all that straight, regardless.
After Penny's tackling of Horatio, she'd rushed to the hidden lift in the column and fled into the underground system that ran from Dante's home. The last thing she'd seen was Alfred's shocked human face at her impetuousness and his recriminating: "I said room!"
No matter what danger her fleeing into the human world may bring she couldn’t remain in the house with that man - her father. Her betrayer. The halfling bastard who'd abandoned her for most of her life, only to emerge in order to sell her to the highest bidder, so to speak. All his polite, soft-spoken ways would never change this fact.
Entering the ladies, she went to the last stall and closed the door. Opening the sanitary disposal and slipping her fingers above the lip of the unit, she grasped exactly what she knew would be there. The key to a locker, where salvation awaited.
Simone tucked the key into her pocket and left the stall.
So as to not appear too obvious about her visit, she went to the sinks and washed her hands. The toilets seemed eerily quiet.
In that moment, a hand pulled at her arm. Startled, she looked up and was greeted by the image of a familiar face sporting a malicious grin. It was Samsun, her old nemesis.
"Now I've gotcha!" he cried gleefully. "This time Anton will surely be pleased!"
Before she had a chance to scream, he pressed a strange smelling cloth over her mouth and everything went black.
DEEP IN THE ground, Dante slumbered. Uneasy dreams - visions - filled his head. Time and again, key moments from his past appeared in a flash, their transits searing something deeper into his very essence, until eventually his body sang with an unbearable torment.
Every painful emotion he'd ever buried was laid bare. And as he was transformed, a soft voice whispered in his ear.
"Feel your emotions, Dante - take them all in," Wilhalf's voice whispered. "Your pain, anger, fear. Own them all!"
The screams of terror from those he'd hunted - for both duty and pleasure - reverberated through him.
"Your anger."
Flashes of Anton taunting him about murdering Zara - his father in chains. His flesh burned, the ground swallowed his cries of agony.
"Your fear ..." The ancient one hissed.
A kaleidoscope of multi-coloured particles danced before his eyes until they joined and formed a picture of Simone's beautiful face. She smiled seductively at him, her image frozen in place. Until, like an old film starting through a projector, grainy lines flickered as her scantily clad body became animated.
"l've been waiting for you, my love," she said, the camera zooming out to show her languishing on his bed. "Dante, what's wrong?"
The picture shimmered in speed, Simone's scream of pain piercing his ear. The next shot narrowed to Simone pinned against a wall - a hand crushing her throat. In the background a baby screamed. No, not a baby - it was a woman's voice calling in the distance.
Dante shook his head. The ground rumbled.
"Do not turn away, my son."
Furious at Wilhalf's interference, Dante shrank from the picture of Simone, blood now gurgling out of her mouth.
"Help me, Dante. Danger ... I'm in danger."
Dante's protective instinct powered on - obliterating the illusion which trapped him. Simone was in danger - he must save her!
"No, Dante! You can't - you're not yet ready..."
Ignoring the pleas of the old vamp, Dante stirred back to life deep within the hold of the earth. Clawing his way upwards, the earth undulated, trying as hard as it could to stop his progression.
All it did was make him angrier and more determined. His massive hands dug even deeper into the soil surrounding him. Slowly, he inched his way upwards and with a mighty punch, he finally hit air. He was free.
Dragging himself out of the ground, he collapsed, his breathing ragged, dirt spewing from his mouth. His body felt electrified by a power he could not describe.
What the fuck was Wilhalf trying to do?
Pushing away the thought, Dante wasted no time with the customary victory cry after winning his battle for freedom. He coldly locked his rage away - Wilhalf, who he now deemed an enemy, would have to wait.
Simone was in danger. Her pleas for help the impetus of his incredible feat. His love for her had drawn him from the bowels of the earth.
With his feet firmly planted back on the ground, Dante lifted his hands, amazed to find they pulsated with a crackling blue light. Lead only by his instincts, he drew energy from the natural world around him, infusing himself with the power of the great Mother, Gaia.
Her nourishment built within him like a growing force.
Reborn and replenished, Dante looked to the sky and rose. Hovering briefly above the ground, in a flash of speed, he was gone.
Chapter Thirty-Three
THE SCENE GREETING Dante on his arrival home was pure comedy. Zipping into the library, after reaching London in record time thanks to his new accelerated speed, he found his household in utter disarray.
Lying prostrate on the floor, with a strange red-haired woman sitting firmly on top of him, was Horatio. The red-head, burnishing an umbrella like a sword and seemingly running the show - had Alfred, buck-nak
ed in human form, hunched and, dare it be said, cowering behind the couch.
When Alfred saw Dante, he stood to attention immediately. "Boss! I can explain."
At which point, the woman bellowed: "Get yer arse back behind that couch, Raven," and thrust the umbrella menacingly in his direction. Turning to Dante she brazenly added: "And, who on the goddess' green earth are you? Because I have to warn you - I am personally acquainted with the biggest, baddest Viking vampyre you could imagine - and he owes me a massive favour. One scream from me and 'poof' he'll be here and you'll be sorry."
Dante's guard lowered. "Ah, you must be Simone's friend, Penny. Alfred! For the love of god, put some clothes on and start talking."
Alfred cocked his head to the side and rose fully dressed in suit and tie.
Penny screeched: "I really hate it when he does that! And how do you know, Simone?"
Dante, surprisingly unnerved by the question, replied. "She is, ah, my guest. My name is Dante, welcome to my home. Now, may I ask you something?" he posited lightly. Penny nodded yes, transfixed for some reason by the announcement of his identity. "Why are you sitting on one of my family's dearest friends? Hello, Horatio. Are you well?"
"I've seen better days, Dante," Horatio muttered into the carpet, unable to raise his head.
"Ah ha! So you are friend's with this baby abandoning piece of shite, while simultaneously sleeping with the daughter he abandoned? Thank the goddess Simone is far away from this mad house."
Penny's words slammed through him. Horatio was Simone's halfling father? Simone had left?
"Alfred, you let Simone leave this house - on her own!" Dante roared. "Why the fuck have you stayed cowering in this room while she is on the outside and vulnerable to attack."
It was Penny who answered. "Oy, Lord of the Manor - with me, with me," she said, snapping her fingers. "This is why."
She aimed the umbrella at him and let rip. A shaft of lightning sprang from its tip and zapped Dante, full on.
The result? It didn't bother him one iota. "Is that all you've got?" he asked, dusting the last zinging pulses of light from his person, completely unaffected.
