Age of Vampyre Series Box Set

by Sophia North

  "I'd like to take credit but it's down to my assistant Lawrence's excellent tastes that it's turned out so well. Please take a seat, I know there is bottled water in the fridge if you're tempted."

  Melinda shook her head. "Thank you but no, I don't plan on lingering too long. The capital is not somewhere I particularly enjoy coming."

  Hannah felt a tinge ripple through her. There was more to Melinda's visit than she was prepared to say, but Hannah just didn't know what exactly - her tinges were not very clear. They were more like, feelings that led to conclusions rather than thought.

  Oh yes, the 'tinges'. Yet another niggle Hannah was trying to cope with - these incessant tinges she was experiencing. They came and went constantly. It was like her body was also trying to tell her something had changed too!

  "Please, tell me more about this fascinating case," Hannah said, returning with a bottle of water to sit on the sectional. It was unlike Melinda to use such language and her defences were up. Her recent conversations about the OO had not left them in a good light.

  "Legends and folklore of Mer people."

  Mer people were believed to have been humans who lived in the sea. The most famous example being the Little Mermaid story in Denmark.

  "Why would the OO be interested in them?"

  "We have reason to believe they may be linked to dragon myths. If proven, this would be a major coup for our department."

  Dragons and Mer people. Strange coincidence or were her instincts tingling for a reason?

  Best try and find out.

  "I realise you are not able to be completely open with me about the department, but I have a few more questions I'd like to ask...as part of my decision on whether or not to take full membership."

  Melinda's eyes lit up. "I am so pleased to hear you are still considering that path. We wondered if your home purchase was indicative of you looking to move forward in another direction...not that you are under any pressure."

  "Is that the true reason for your visit? To undertake a litmus test on my status?"

  Melinda had the decency to flush. "Yes, a bit. But the case is legit."

  With a sudden whoosh, Hannah could hear everything Melinda was thinking.

  Please Hannah, say yes. If you don't, they'll never let me continue...I have to know the truth.

  Within the next moment the sound of sucking air, followed by silence from Melinda, threw Hannah for a loop. Had she'd just been able to hear Melinda's thought?. What was happening to her?

  Keeping the emotion from her face, Hannah smiled warmly. "What specifically would you need me to do?"

  Melinda's relief flooded her features. "The case involves one of our agent's work with a young child from Sweden involving past life regression. It is believed she is experiencing flashbacks to a time when she lived in the sea - literally. It is most unusual. The Order is keen to find artefacts which may help trigger more memories...but the lead on the case has requested images which contain Mer people and dragons. Naturally, with your skill at finding obscure artefacts, you were top of my list to undertake the research."

  Hannah studied Melinda's earnest expression. She seemed genuine, but Hannah could not help but be suspicious.

  "And the tight turnaround would be?"

  "ASAP. The OO feels it is a high priority to find pieces to help unlock whatever this young child is reliving."

  Hannah nodded. "I will do my best. Same contact procedures?"

  "Actually, with you showing interest in taking steps towards being initiated, I was thinking you might like another visit to the Motherhouse. Have a proper tour and all that."

  The idea was very appealing. Hannah’s previous visit for tea in their impressive gardens had been a strange one. It had felt like an Open Day at a university, but all those invited had been blindfolded throughout the journey so they had no idea where the Motherhouse was actually located. Talk about paranoia. And to think Hannah had thought it quite the adventure at the time.

  "I'd like that very much."

  "Excellent. I am so pleased, Hannah. I'd been secretly hoping you would take the next step. The Order needs people with your integrity - honest and extremely talented at what you do. This could take our department to another level."

  Integrity? Interesting choice of word considering Hannah had grave doubts about the OO's motivations since she’d learnt of the existence of the supernatural world. Seeking to test how 'honest' Melinda would be with her, Hannah dangled a carrot.

  "I have been drawn to an unusual area of study lately...quite an instinctive process. Do you know much about Vampyres?"

  Something flickered in Melinda's eyes, but it was so quick it barely registered.

  "Vampyres! Oh dear, Hannah. You haven't been sucked in by the vamp craze, have you? I swear, how many TV series and films can be produced about them?"

  She may have sounded dismissive, but the subject had bothered Melinda.

  "Too true," Hannah laughed good-naturedly. "So, there is no reason for me to pursue my research? You did say, if I was ever instinctively drawn to a subject I must go with it and let you know."

  "I can assure you, Vampyres are nothing more than our desire to scare ourselves silly into believing there are things that go bump in the night. But by all means, pursue the study. Perhaps, I am being too hasty in my assessment."

  Indeed, Melinda. Perhaps you are, Hannah thought, and you know more than you are willing to say.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  THE FIST CONNECTING with his jaw felt good.

  He'd been doubtful of Vlad's boast that a few rounds in the ring would help bring him relief, but the bastard was right. A good pummelling did wonders for one's pissed off disposition.

  Nothing seemed to be going his way lately. It was like everything he touched turned to shit. His Lowerton command of vamp troops had turned into a headache he could have done without. The Watchers were still wary of him and his Praetors, which resulted in shoddy work thanks to each force going over the other's progress because of a lack of trust.

  No trust. If ever there was a central theme in his life, that had to be it.

  Brushing aside Vlad's love tap, Gabe returned the punch with a few quick jabs. His opponent grunted but took them like a vamp.

  The ding of a bell ended the round.

  Fluorescent lights flickered in the underground gym, the smell of sweat and dampness were singularly unpleasing on the senses. Drummond's was a far cry from the 21st century gym experience. Its interior was trapped somewhere in the 20th and that was being generous.

  The thing with Drummond's was, it was a 'safe' space for the supernatural. Mel, the owner, was human. Yet, one of the rare ones with whom the vamp community could to business with. But as with all human relations, they were built upon decades - generations even - of working with certain families. Mel's ancestors had owned the gym since the early twenties. It started off as being a refuge for returning soldiers from the Great War. A place where they could beat the war from their senses and attempt to have a normal life.

  But as with all places where men went to vent their frustrations, inevitable dirty deals and back alley alliances sprang up. And where there was darkness, vampyres followed.

  Gabe poured a bottle of water over his head. He was starting to feel more himself.

  "Up for another, mate?" Vlad called from his corner.

  "Glutton for punishment, I see. Were you always so reckless? It is hard to believe you weren't taken out centuries ago because of it."

  Vlad rubbed his glove over his forehead to clear the sweat from his eyes. He felt like shite, but wasn't going to back down. Gabe had one thing right about him, he was reckless to the limit. It was the only way to really move forward - measured risk was for pussies. Go big or go home was Vlad's mantra - and his success in both business and love were predicated on it.

  "I'm up for it, if you are," he boasted.

  Gabe nodded to the young lad chiming the bell for them. As the two opponents circled one another, they carri
ed on with their running conversation between jabs and right hooks.

  "You still haven't told me what happened between you and this Mariam creature," Gabe remarked, circling Vlad from the outside. Malachai's latest report on his locating Darius had not been easy reading. His Prefect was at his wits end with the mission. Every time he had closed in on Mariam, she'd disappear without a trace again. These fae-vamp hybrids were trying his patience and he hoped Vlad may be able to shed some light on the subject.

  "Not much to say. The bitch betrayed me. Shame about Godfrey though, he'd started to grow on me, despite his bizarre monkish ways." Vlad took a quick swing at Gabe's head, who countered it effortlessly.

  Tight-lipped as usual. Time for a new tactic. "I am still unclear on how he managed to escape. His cell was being watched by my personal Guard. And no one gets past my Praetors."

  Vlad grunted. "They do when able to summon doors from walls."

  "She can what? You might have mentioned this before now," Gabe challenged.

  Vlad threw a solid punch at Gabe's ribs, its force surprisingly managing to knock the breath from him briefly. He must be getting sloppy to allow Vlad to catch him off guard. Must have been the shock of learning Mariam was capable of creating portals. It explained why Malachai was failing to catch her.

  Ding.

  Vlad saluted him and returned to his corner. But Gabe, having had enough of his tight-lipped bullshit, followed him there.

  Drinking some water, Vlad sat on his bench, ignoring Gabe's looming presence. He really did not want to discuss Mariam. To do so meant talking about him...Darius AKA Haan...and Vlad was done with all that shite. He had Penny to protect and a brother to save.

  "Look, I appreciate your Praetor promise shite with Alessio requires you to find Darius, but personally...that's not my problem. My problem is the Brotherhood's expanding influence and the implications it poses for my wife and child. Where Mariam is and why she came back for Godfrey is not my priority - so forgive me if I'd rather not waste my breath."

  Gabe understood Vlad's position better than anyone. He too had turned his back on the vampyre world, feeling those in power had betrayed him, his brothers...his father. They'd all died because of Lowerton's incompetence and Gabe had felt justified in taking the position that his duty as Legatus could fuck right off. But the unfortunate truth was, if one is fated for a certain destiny, no amount of running would change it. In fact, to do so usually made things much worse.

  "And if your echo chamber existence ends up costing you both your wife and best friend because you limited your focus...what then?"

  Vlad's eyes narrowed. He didn't appreciate having his emotions fucked with to make Gabe's position easier. Consul cunt would have to find another sap to toy with, Vlad was not going to be a willing puppet.

  "If you are so intent on knowing, why don't you use your Praetor powers and take what you are looking for?"

  Gabe sighed. He really was trying to be reasonable. "I want your trust and dare I say it...friendship more."

  There, he'd said it. He needed help. An unbelievably difficult thing for him to do.

  "What was that, mate?" Vlad asked, raising a brow as if to say, 'I'm going to need more.'

  "Fuck you. Get up, we'll settle this like men. First to ten points wins the absolute truth from the other. No bullshit answers. Only the raw, ugly truth."

  Vlad eagerly accepted the challenge. There were a few ugly truths he'd like to know from the arrogant Praetor.

  The two faced off, each determined to outwit the other.

  Contrary to popular belief, boxing is not about going into a ring and simply beating the shit out of your opponent. Unlike a fight in the street, there are extensive rules. Boxing is often called ‘the sweet science’ by purists for a reason. Intricate defensive and offensive skill is required.

  About halfway through the match, the score was a draw. But as the next round began, Gabe noticed a change in Vlad's style. His punches were harder, his reflexes more nimble. It required Gabe to up his game and call upon his vampyre ways.

  It was the left hook from nowhere that put him down. Vlad should never have been able to land such a punch. WTF was happening?

  Vlad, on the other hand, felt fucking fantastic. The blood roared through his veins and his senses tingled in a way he'd never thought he'd feel again. He felt like a vampyre once more.

  Gabe shimmered from the canvas back into an upright position. Turning back to Vlad, his eye caught sight of a strange sight.

  Noticing Gabe staring at his chest and not advancing, he taunted him. "You're really not my type, mate. Besides I thought you were more into the beautiful librarian types. Shame you wiped her memories of your...hmmm, how can I put this delicately? Bedroom antics. Trouble in that department?"

  Hannah.

  Gabe had deliberately stayed away, not trusting himself to be near and not ravish her immediately. He would not risk her life for what would no doubt be the best sex he'd ever have, no matter how much he ached to be with her.

  Gabe suddenly replied to Vlad’s taunts by landing a sharp punch directly in his face.

  It did not make a dint.

  Vlad took it like a vamp.

  "Again," Vlad encouraged and Gabe happily complied.

  The blood ran freely from Vlad's nose.

  "Again!" he laughed.

  Gabe dropped his gloves. There was no point. He could punch him for hours and it wouldn't change the facts.

  "Jesus wept," Vlad said reverently, dropping to his knees. "I'm back baby!...How is this possible?"

  "Look down," Gabe replied, nodding at his chest.

  Pulling down the black tank top he was wearing, Vlad's eyes widened in surprise. "Why is there a big fucking ouroboros tat on my chest?"

  Gabe removed his shirt to reveal his matching tattoo, along with an array of others on various parts of his anatomy. "It is the Mark. You are becoming a Praetor."

  "Fuck off...a Praetor?"

  "Yes, and by the way...it's going to hurt." Turning to the young lad who was watching, Gabe caught his eye and commanded. "Go! Forget everything you've seen." The lad scampered off without delay. The gym was empty but for the two of them.

  Vlad looked at him in confusion. "Hurt?" On that note, a searing pain hit him as the Praetor tattoo on his chest began to pulse red. The agony was too much. Vlad threw back his head and roared. Until...

  Ping.

  Metal hit canvas with a resounding thud.

  Vlad looked down. A round iron disk with the same design as his tattoo laid there.

  "Welcome to the family, son," Gabe said, slapping Vlad on the shoulder. "And by the way...don't ever fucking call me 'Dad'."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  THUMPING ROCK MUSIC filled the low space of the club. Bright neon lights and spray-painted tagged walls made it feel more like a psychedelic cellar than a bar. It was a far cry from the light and airy atmosphere of the trendy pub upstairs that housed it. But as Hannah descended the staircase at the back of The Long Acre, it quickly became clear she was entering new territory.

  The crush of the crowd made it difficult to navigate through to the bar, but Hannah persevered until she reached it. She wasn't sure why she'd agreed to come. She certainly wasn't dressed for the occasion. Her plans for the evening had been to attend the opening night of Carmen at the Royal Opera House with Rebeka and her friends.

  Her baby sister's asinine plan to throw herself into recreating the London Season of old had not lost steam, much to the dismay of Maltby. The poor man had been apoplectic at the thought of Rebeka inviting some street urchin, his words, to stay with them. Fortunately, Beka and her chums had abandoned the notion of adopting a less fortunate soul to show them the ins and outs of high society.

  So basically, it had turned into a summer of partying. A normal twenty-two year old past-time before beginning their post-uni phase in life.

  Halfway through Act III, Hannah's mobile began to gently vibrate in her bag. Curious to see who it might be, she
'd been surprised to find her mysterious texter was Melinda inviting her for a drink.

  Melinda had never invited Hannah for a drink. Bored of the night's festivities, as well as her sisters friends, she'd snuck out of the family's box and came to meet her. The result, however, was Hannah being dressed to attend an opera, not go clubbing.

  Her choice of attire was certainly gaining attention. Draped in a shimmering teal gown, the delicate straps allowed the dress to fall gracefully to the floor and pool at her feet. But it was the open back causing the most stir. It's deep V ran to the small of her back and invited trouble.

  " 'Allo, love. What may I have the pleasure of serving you?" The barman's thick Aussie accent was full of admiration. His deeply tanned face made him look like he belonged on a beach, the reckless spray of blonde hair caressed his handsome chiselled face.

  "Vodka martini, please." Hannah felt the blood rush to her face. He really was staring a bit too intently at her.

  Fishing out her phone, she distracted herself from the growing male attention she was receiving. Typing a quick message to ask Melinda where she was, Hannah waited as the little 'answering' dots returned the verdict.

  Back end of the bar. Last booth.

  Collecting her drink, Hannah smiled pleasantly at the barman after leaving him a generous tip. Although, from the look on his face he'd hoped for more than a gratuity from her.

  Turning around, she surveyed the scene.

  Back of the bar? Good lord, she had no idea what direction that could possibly be.

  Her phone vibrated.

  Follow the white rabbits, the text message read.

  Hannah glanced around, hoping to find the illusive creatures. Navigating through groups of people lingering at various tables and stools, she studied the walls filled with graffiti. On a pillar at the far end, she spotted her first marker, but it was a bit on the demonic side with glowing red eyes and sharp, blood-dripping fangs.

  From the pillar, Hannah scanned again for the next one. It graced an arched brick doorway. Passing through, she came upon a long corridor of booths and in the last one, as promised, was Melinda.