by Sophia North
"Less than the vampyres themselves," Simone sighed. "The OO, despite all the time they've spent accumulating information on the species, haven't got a clue about the origin of vampyres. Not even my father was aware of the Praetorian Guard's existence."
"If it is of any help Gabriel told me he was an ultimate vampyre. But other than demonstrating an ability to walk in sunlight and control minds, my knowledge is rather sparse on his other vampyric abilities," Hannah answered, but in her head finished with: 'But thankfully, he cannot read minds or I'd be screwed.
"Ah, I have some bad news on that front, my friend. If I can read your mind, he most definitively can as well," Simone responded, exposing the fallacy of Hannah's silent statement.
"He can do what?!" she squeaked, her cheeks flaming red with embarrassment. He'd played her completely. The bastard!
"Oh good, looks like there were some impure thoughts afoot," Penny squealed delightedly. "Come on Bookworm, dish me up something good. I cannot speak for Simone, but in my opinion, Gabriel Rosetti is quite a pleasing hunk of male. Those eyes...might be my pregnancy hormones speaking here, but a woman could get lost staring into those deep pools of green. Delicious."
Hannah didn't know what to say. She'd never been one to gossip about men, which her assistant Lawrence tended to go on at her about. He was forever critiquing male attributes...and wasn't known to hold back with his brutal assessment.
He'd despised Pierce from the moment they'd met. But as for Gabriel...he couldn't say enough about him. Literally. Not a day had passed since his coming to the museum that Lawrence had not managed to bring Gabriel Rosetti into the conversation.
It was so bad one afternoon, Hannah finally snapped and asked Lawrence if he wanted her to arrange a date for the two of them. Lawrence had just looked at her, with a knowing twinkle in his eye, and said: 'Hannah, Gabriel Rosetti has no interest whatsoever in men. How is it possible that an intelligent, beautiful woman such as yourself can be so dense about the opposite sex? Pierce Nelson-Aldrich III has totally messed up your judgement if you believe he is the man for you. My friend, wake up and taste the Roman!'
The horror of Gabe not only being able to read her thoughts but possibly able to do more dawned. "He cannot access everything in there, can he?"
Simone pondered it. "It's hard to say what these Praetors are capable of. Their existence was the stuff of legend until Gabriel et al rolled into town. Now one cannot go anywhere in Lowerton without being accosted by the new Guard. Only one hundred are in existence at any given time, and it would appear over half the legion are here. The rest are searching for Dante...and Darius. Haan's Underlings are the greatest prizes across the entire supernatural spectrum."
Hannah's worries about whether or not Gabriel could lift whatever the hell he wanted from her head rapidly dissipated. Simone had not really opened up about the circumstances surrounding her becoming a vampyre...or the battle that continued to rage on with Haan – a vampyre who defied the final death and worked for centuries to bring about his resurrection. She was eager to learn more.
"Have you heard nothing about your husband's whereabouts?" Hannah gently queried, aware weeks had passed since reinforcements had been sent to search for Dante.
"The last update I received confirmed what we have long suspected. The Serpent Brotherhood is responsible for Dante being taken prisoner. It seems whilst Darius was operational as Haan in sheep's clothing, he was very busy over in the US of A building alliances with any supernatural race willing to join Haan's rebel forces. Which means our enemies have become far greater in number than we first speculated."
Simone looked away. Her upset clearly visible, yet she tried not to breakdown.
Penny rushed to comfort her distraught friend. "We will find him, Simone. Don't lose faith. I know...it's hard. Dante's been gone for far too long. I could lend you Vlad, except... I'd have to scratch your eyes out afterwards. And I'm still not over you kissing him yet."
Simone laughed through her tears. "I'd probably break him like a stick. He's not a vampyre anymore...he wouldn't be able to handle me."
Hannah felt terrible for opening up what was obviously a sensitive subject for Simone, it hadn't been intentional. Desperate to redeem herself, she grasped at the first thought she had to get things back on track. Self-immolation...with a twist of dark humour.
"I still live at home with my parents," she announced randomly.
"Hah, it explains so much." Penny clapped her hands and fell back on the couch. "Please tell me you're not still a virgin...my money is on yes, but the odds are close one way or t'other. Simone, you interested in a side bet?"
"Penny, stop it," Simone rebuked unconvincingly. "You’re embarrassing Hannah."
Penny crinkled her pert nose in protest. "What? She brought it up...well the living at home with her parents bit. I'm speculating on the virgin angle."
The outlandishness of Penny's estimation on her level of sexual experience shocked Hannah. "Of course I'm not a virgin! Pierce was about to propose after three years together...why on earth would you think I am a virgin?"
"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Penny teased. "Money changing position," she hollered, emulating the call found on the trading floor of a stock exchange. "Not a virgin in the traditional sense, but definitely in the mind blowing orgasmic one."
Hannah couldn't deny it. Penny was one hundred percent correct.
"Penny..." Simone, her tone low with warning. "Hannah, don't let her rile you. She's been caged in here with me for far too long. I think it's time to have a little chat with Vlad about exercising you outside of the bedroom more." With a quick wink, she finished on: "Hormones."
"If I have to hear one more word about my farking hormones, I'll singe the arse off anyone dumb enough to utter the words," Penny snapped, her eyes glowing with fire.
"Farking?" Simone asked innocently.
"I'm going to be someone's mother. Cursing like a sailor is not the image I wish to project."
As if on cue, Alfred walked into the library carrying a tray with a tall glass of some frothing concoction in the centre. "Mistress Penny, I've taken it upon myself to do a spot of research on controlling the sometimes completely irrational mood swings..."
Zap!
Alfred squawked as a bolt of fire grazed his backside. Transforming into his Raven form, he took flight. The foaming drink lay spilt on the floor and the tray upside down beside it. A faint smell of burnt feathers lingered in the library.
"Okay. I feel better."
Hannah and Simone looked at one another and broke out into a fit of laughter. No one would be messing with Penny anytime soon. Alfred especially.
"Oh, leave off, the pair of you. Alfred asked for it. Irrational mood swings, indeed." Penny poured more wine into her friends' glasses. "Now drink up. I'm living vicariously through the two of you tonight."
Simone saluted her friend in dedication and leaned back into the chair to nurse her crisp Petit Chablis. "About still living with your parents. Why do you think that is?"
Penny snorted. "Oh Hannah, get ready. You are about to be 'Simoned'."
"Simoned?"
"AKA psyche deconstructed. It doesn't hurt...much. But it will be highly rewarding in the end. Promise. Look at how well I've turned out." Penny wrapped a tartan wool blanket around her shoulders and snuggled into the corner of the long leather couch.
Hannah gulped. She'd not sought much outside direction over life's big choices. She'd been blessed with a strong loving family, graced with a whole host of colourful, albeit challenging, members who helped her along the way. It had never occurred to her to question it. But she'd been torn about the best way forward these past two years. And her growing unhappiness was becoming harder to ignore.
"I, ah...don't know what to say."
"Say whatever comes to mind, you might be surprised," Simone said encouragingly.
"Convenience...lack of imagination...fear of the unknown." Hannah rhymed off the top of her head.
"Aren't you a duchess or something?" Penny asked sleepily and totally off topic.
"I am heir to my father's title as Marquess, which makes me a Countess. Why?"
"Always thought ye blue bloods were filthy rich on account of your land-owning and cheap labour ways...cannae ye jest buy yer way out of the nest. Be yer own woman, Hannah. What the hell is stopping you?"
Hannah thought about it. The honest answer was...nothing.
Chapter Fourteen
HANNAH WANDERED ACROSS the marble inlaid floors of the generous entrance hall of the four bedroom house she was considering buying. She'd looked at a few different options, a flat with a view of Tower Bridge, as well as one in her favourite hidden haunts, St. Katherine Dock's. But in the end, her heart was drawn to this charming garden townhouse in Kensington.
The only time Hannah had ever lived on her own was during her years at Cambridge. Her parents had purchased a stylish two bedroom flat for her and Abby to share and now Rebeka and a friend. Her mother had insisted on decorating and furnishing it to her tastes, which were on the Bohemian side of the spectrum. And subsequently, Hannah had never really felt the flat truly reflected who she was. Rebeka certainly, she was the family rebel and an excellent clone for their eccentric American mother. Whereas Abby hadn't given a fig about the decor. As long it had the requisite amenities in order to survive, it would do.
"What do you think?" Hannah asked Lawrence, her self-appointed second opinion.
"It is perfect! The place screams 'Hannah House'," Lawrence concluded emphatically. "Imagine the parties you could host...if, that is, you were even somewhat socially inclined. Fear not, my socially awkward friend, I shall take it upon myself to plan the house warming party. And at the top of the guest list will be one Mr. Gabriel Rosetti."
"I don't think Pierce would approve," she countered playfully, knowing his reaction.
"Who cares what Prat Pierce thinks! If his behaviour at Claridge's...and in your family's home, no less...doesn't scream 'Girl, he needs to go!', I don't know what it will take to get that Yankee-doodle out of your bed and the fabulous archangel Gabriel into it."
Archangel? Gabriel Rosetti was about as angelic as Lucifer. She was still steaming over the fact that he'd been able read her mind the entire time they'd spent together. She'd even come to the conclusion that the only reason she'd kissed him in the first place was because he'd mind controlled her to do it.
Her theory, of course, was a load of rubbish, but it made her feel better.
As for her assistant’s observation about Pierce's needed extraction, she was in full agreement. There was just the actual ending to implement, and she didn't know how best to do it. Her previous relationships, all two of them, had ended from natural causes. Pierce, on the other hand, was not a candidate for an easy exit. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, which was going to make their break-up that much harder to manage.
"Lawrence, Gabriel Rosetti is not the least bit interested in me. He wanted a professional opinion on a piece in his collection, nothing more. The Claridge's Incident was purely coincidental. Beka had no idea who he was when she lured him into her rescue plans. Nor did he know who she was to me."
His snort of disbelief echoed in the cavernous hall.
From above, the bespectacled face of Wilhelmina Hartshod, Hannah's estate agent, looked down. "Yes, it's a wee bit dusty," she called down, mistaking Lawrence's snort for a sneeze. "The house has been empty for a few months. I will have words with the cleaning service. The place is meant to be immaculate."
Hannah shot Lawrence a reprising look, for both his attitude towards her pleas of innocence about Gabriel's intentions and upsetting the estate agent.
"The house is immaculate, Wilhelmina. Lawrence has a cold."
"Oh dear, terrible thing these June colds. Just when one should be at the peak of one's health, the British summer hits and throws the whole thing out of whack with its hot and cold nature."
"It's a climate emergency!" Lawrence piped up. "That Scandinavian teenager needs to be heard. The world as we know it could end in just over a decade."
Lawrence's impassioned speech was met by the agent pushing her specs up her prim nose. "Yes, quite. Did I mention the excellent schools nearby? Barring the upcoming Armageddon, one shouldn't discount the importance of a good catchment area in the future resell value."
Effectively silenced, Lawrence stared up at the peculiar woman. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something strange about her.
"How firm are the owners on the price?" Hannah asked.
Clip-clopping her way down the impressive granite staircase, Wilhelmina's short five foot two frame was bedecked in an outrageously bright floral dress. Her exposed arms jangled with equally distasteful costume jewellery to match the hideous colour scheme she adorned herself in.
"Well, lovie, truth be told they are desperate for a sale. Marital issues," she whispered with emphasis. "If the price wasn't too insulting, they'd move on their ask."
Hannah considered her options. She could sit on the fence and painfully analyse each possible scenario or she could be decisive and take control. Be bold.
"Offer a five million cash sale. I'll throw in another two fifty if it can be done by month's end."
"Right'o, sweetie. Personally, I think they'll bite your hand off."
Chapter Fifteen
GABRIEL'S SUITE WAS a pleasing enough offering. Generous living and sleeping quarters with twenty-four hour service to meet any and all vampyre needs. Was there a better way to live?
Evidently yes, because Gabe had been growing more and more disenchanted with his nomadic lifestyle with each passing day. He just hadn't admitted it to himself until now. Damn Hannah Woodville and her innocent alluring ways.
She was making him do things, feel things, he'd never experienced and this would not do. He was the Legatus of the Praetorian Guard for fuck's sake. His only focus should be on upholding his duty to protect the vampyre world, not spend time fantasizing about making love to a slip of a girl in a variety of inventive ways.
Duty needed to be everything to him now, and should it be asked, even his own existence sacrificed in order to fulfil it. He had run far too long from his true path, as his old teacher, Tiberius liked to remind him incessantly. And his deviation had ended up costing him dearly.
The Praetor call to rise after the debacle of the 1660s took over two hundred years to occur again. And after Gabe had crawled from the earth where he'd lain in wait for the Empire to need him, he'd made the monumental decision to give two fingers to his duty as Legatus and walked away. Tiberius had been beside himself over that surprising turn of events and had pursued Gabe for ages, continually trying to change his mind.
In the end, fate took hold of the situation and forced the issue by taking out one of Gabe's best Praetors and his special forces unit. If Gabe had been true to his duty it wouldn't have happened, but as it was, the loss ended up putting him back on his correct path.
"Consul, your guests have arrived. Shall I show them in?"
"Yes, Brutus. Also, you and Hadrian are dismissed from sentry duty."
"Is that wise, Consul."
"Praetor, you are dismissed."
The vamp nodded stiffly and departed.
Gabe sighed. His personal bodyguards were yet another pain in his ass. But since losing Aiden, his third Prefect, and twelve vamps back in 2001, Gabe had taken direct control of those remaining in his Legion. An unusual choice for a Legatus but Gabe felt he owed it to Aiden.
Much of his former Prefect's legion were made up of the most recent recruits and needed a lot of work to train. It took many centuries for a Praetor to complete his, and now her, assimilation into the Guard, and as Gabe was the only Praetor over the age of two hundred in the current contingent, he felt the duty fell to him to lead their training in Aiden's stead. Lash and Malachai, his other Prefects, had their legions under control and progressing nicely but they were still young comparatively speaking.
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"Right, before we begin, there are a couple of things I want to say." Vlad entered the suite in his usual assertive manner. "Firstly, no more fucking with my head. Do it again and I walk. I'm not fucking kidding. You can take your Praetor mind-fuck ways and swivel. Alessio, are you hearing me? I'll be the biggest pain in your ass if he pulls his bullshit again."
"Vlad, I hear you. I'm sure the whole of London heard you. There is no need to shout, man. Surely, we can have a civilised conversation on the matter, can we not?" Alessio answered.
Gabriel arched an eyebrow at the outraged man. "And secondly?" he asked, his tone dismissive and incredibly condescending. Gabe didn't really care what Vlad's demands were, he would do what was required to get the job done. The sooner Vlad accepted it, the better.
Vlad's stormy sea gaze narrowed dangerously. The Consul cunt was not taking him seriously. Bad move.
Launching himself at the arrogant vamp, Vlad was past caring about the beating he would have to endure from one as powerful as Gabe. Frustrated at being no closer to breaking the curse that hung over his family, he needed to feel anything other than the fear he carried deep within.
Vlad had everything he'd never dreamed possible and felt powerless to protect it. Returning to human form had once filled his heart with joy. It meant he and Penny would grow old together, watch their family flourish, and ultimately join one another in eternity. Forever bound together by their love.
But now, his heart was burdened with the knowledge his humanity may end up being the reason for their love's early demise. It's greatness snuffed out before it ever had a chance to begin.
A few broken ribs seemed a reasonable price to pay to feel in control again. However fleeting it may be.
Gabe moved with an incredible speed to pin Vlad against a wall. "Don't make me hurt you. Believe it or not, I've come to enjoy your company and would hate for it to cease unnecessarily," he growled menacingly. "I do what I do. Your like, or dislike, is of no consequence. Have you grown so weak as a human you forget your Watcher ways?"
