The walk from their apartment complex to the pub was short and through a relatively well-lit and safe part of the neighborhood. Still, Cat turned around at least three times to look behind them.
"What's up with you?" Shelly asked finally.
Cat stopped and scanned the street behind them much more carefully now. Nobody. There was absolutely nobody around.
"I thought I heard something," Cat lied. She hadn't heard a damn thing. And neither had she seen anything. Still, she couldn't fight the feeling that there was someone out there, watching her.
She must be more stressed out than she thought.
"Maybe it was a cat or something," Cat mumbled and pressed on toward their destination: the brightly lit building at the end of the road. It took hardly a minute longer for them to arrive and Shelly to push the door open.
As soon as Cat entered, she started to relax. It was warm in here, cozy. Being a weekday, and that too Monday, the pub was quiet, with just a handful of regulars playing darts in the far corner. She breathed a sigh of relief and started unbuttoning her coat to get more comfortable.
They headed straight for the bar and ordered two pints as well as some dinner to share.
"Hey, why don't you tell me more about this Desmond guy?" Shelly suggested as she plopped down in one of the tatty looking armchairs surrounding one of the empty tables.
Cat let out a chuckle. "Really. That's what you want to know?"
"Look, I don't know anything about art, but I do know about men. So yeah, that's what I want to know. Cheers." Shelly grinned and raised her glass.
"Fine. Whatever makes you happy. Cheers." Cat raised her glass too, then took a sip and told Shelly everything.
No matter how hard she tried, though, Cat couldn't fully banish Alexander from her thoughts, nor the regret she felt. If only she could turn back time.
Chapter Nine
Alexander paced back and forth in the grand hall outside the meeting room of the Vampire Council. His footsteps echoed against the marble clad walls, which didn't help settle his concerns. What a waste of time. He didn't even know anything.
Ever since Lucille had shown up the night of the party, he knew that it was likely Julius would call him in. Alexander was the one who had interacted the most with Cat, after all. And Julius enjoyed the ritual of it all: calling in his subjects for so-called audiences, to coerce them into doing his bidding.
That was what this was, no doubt: a reminder that Alexander had no choice but to cooperate. The Council didn't tolerate insubordination.
The heavy wooden doors swung open and Lucille appeared. "You can come in now," she said.
Alexander nodded and kept his shoulders and back as straight as possible as he marched in. Lucille was a walking lie detector, sure, but convincing Julius could be even more difficult. The years had made him cynical and suspicious; unfortunately right now, he had good cause to be.
"Alexander, how lovely of you to show your face around here!" Julius called out and waved him closer from the large throne-like chair at the opposite end of the hall.
Alexander glanced around and suppressed an eye roll. The Council—especially under Julius—really did like to make a statement. Of course they'd picked an old cathedral to host their meetings and deliberations. Everything, from the tall stained glass windows and the crude forged iron chandelier, right down to the Gothic wooden throne Julius sat on, had a clear purpose: to impress and intimidate.
"Of course. I came as soon as I heard you wanted to see me," Alexander said.
Julius folded his hands in his lap and looked him up and down.
"You look well. The 21st century has been good to you."
"Thank you. You look well yourself."
Julius waved away Alexander's forced compliment.
"Enough with the niceties. You know what I want to talk about, don't you?"
"The Blood Bride," Alexander said.
Julius' eyes lit up when he heard those all-important words. If he and the Council were indeed threatened by this woman's special powers, he had a strange way of showing it.
"That's right. Of all the times and places to come across a rare and magnificent creature like her, imagine my surprise to hear one just happened to attend one of your little parties," Julius mused. He leaned forward and gestured at the two guards by the door, as well as Lucille, who stood just to the right of Alexander.
"Leave us. I wish to speak to Alexander in private."
Alexander didn't need to turn around to know everyone had instantly sprang into action. The sound of departing footsteps spoke volumes. As soon as the heavy doors creaked back into position, Julius gestured at him again.
"Come closer, my son."
Alexander walked up toward what would have been the altar of the old church, where Julius' throne now sat. He kept his head bowed slightly, following the proper etiquette when approaching the Principis, or leader, of the Council.
"No need for formalities, my son. Look at me," Julius spoke firmly.
Alexander did as asked, and made eye contact with the much older vampire. There was a change in him from the last time they'd spoken. Normally, Julius appeared calm above everything, reserved. Unless provoked, he kept his emotions to himself. Not so now. His eyes were eager and bright.
"Please tell me exactly what happened that night. When did you first realize what she was?"
Alexander took a moment to collect his thoughts. He'd rehearsed what to say in his head, but now that he was faced with his maker, he suddenly found it a little difficult to walk the line between being compelled to follow his orders, and the intense urge he felt to protect Catherine.
"I didn't know until Lucille told me. All I knew was that she was different from the others."
Julius nodded in agreement. "Ah, yes. I imagine she would have been different. Everyone could tell as much once she walked in."
Alexander nodded. "Yes. I noticed everyone looking in her direction."
"So what was she like?" Again, Julius looked more excited than threatened, rousing Alexander's suspicion even further.
"She seemed completely unaware of how special she was," Alexander said. He tried his best not to let Julius' questions take him back to that night, as he knew it would make him vulnerable, but he couldn't help it. All the images he'd tried so hard to banish from his mind were flooding back.
"I spoke to her briefly, offered to show her around the house, since she'd shown an interest in some of the artwork," Alexander continued.
Julius nodded, encouraging him to go on.
"Upstairs, I asked her to dance, which we did." Alexander blinked a few times, completely aware that he was sharing more than he had intended to, but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't get the details of his much too brief encounter with Catherine out of his head.
If only he could've convinced her she was safe with him. If only she'd stayed.
"Did you taste her?" Julius asked.
The directness of the question dragged Alexander back to reality. He made eye contact once more and saw urgency, obsession.
"No, nothing like that," Alexander said, taken aback by what he had seen in his master.
"And you know nothing of her whereabouts, or any details that might be of help for us to track her down?"
Alexander shook his head, feigning disappointment. Sure, he was disappointed that he hadn't been able to track her down, but he was glad he wasn't in a position to hand her over to Julius.
"You're certain you didn't taste her, even by accident?" Julius pressed the issue again.
"No!" Alexander protested.
"Shame. I would have loved to know what that was like. I know you still have your youth to keep you entertained, but when you get to my age... Brand new experiences are hard to come by." Julius smiled absentmindedly.
Alexander balled his fists, then immediately released them again for fear of being found out. All this talk of drinking Catherine's blood made him uncomfortable. By all accounts, a vampire would lose control o
nce they tasted her. Why fantasize about it? Why flirt with such immense temptation? Had Julius reached such heights of megalomania that he thought to be above Catherine's powers? Or did he simply not care about what would happen?
"So you think she's a threat to our kind?" Alexander asked, hoping to steer the conversation somewhere more agreeable.
Julius licked his lips before answering. "Well, the history books tell us that women such as her have immense power. It would be irresponsible not to investigate further."
Alexander found it hard to swallow his frustration. Julius was so clearly lying. He didn't want to contain some kind of threat; his questions as well as his whole demeanor had made it obvious that Julius wanted her for himself. What Alexander had seen in him wasn't curiosity or excitement; it was blood lust.
Principis of the Council or not, that was unacceptable. Catherine was his first, and even if she wouldn't have him, he would do everything in his power to keep her away from Julius. Her safety was at stake.
"Indeed, it would be irresponsible," Alexander remarked, glancing up at his maker's face again while keeping his posture as non-threatening as possible. He had to make sure his anger didn't show.
Fortunately, Julius barely seemed to be paying attention to Alexander. Instead, his focus was elsewhere. He already seemed enthralled by the prospect of capturing his very own Blood Bride, and the inevitable blood bath that would follow.
It was no wonder Julius had wanted all the other vampires to leave for this little chat. He must have known that he would share more than he intended to. Such was the effect Catherine had on almost everyone.
Nobody, not even the most powerful vampire on earth, was able to withstand her effect, whether she was physically present or not.
Once Julius had dismissed him, Alexander didn't head home. He had already lost precious hours at the Council.
There was no time to waste; the city was vast, and finding one single human in all of that chaos was a huge task for a single vampire to take on. He didn't rest, he hadn't even fed all night, or the previous night.
The entire business with Catherine, and now the Council, was eating away at Alexander.
Where would a woman such as Catherine spend her evenings? Alexander checked out restaurants, bars, popular landmarks. It was no use. She was nowhere to be found.
Finally, when the first light of dawn threatened to cross the horizon, Alexander returned home, after another unsuccessful night.
"How did it go?" Michael looked up just as Alexander entered the library.
"No luck," Alexander said. He hated that he'd made no progress. With Julius obsessed, he wouldn't be the only one on the lookout. The Council had the manpower to cover much more ground in a much shorter time. And then there were the loyalists like Gillian. In this case, it was truly a case of one against many.
"I meant your meeting at the Council," Michael clarified.
"Oh." Alexander shook his head. "The plot thickens."
"How so?"
Alexander poured himself a drink and took a sip before answering.
"This whole Blood Bride business has everyone making fools of themselves." Alexander himself, of course, was included in this assessment. He would be the first one to go above and beyond to ensure Catherine's safety, when in fact she'd wanted nothing to do with him. It was pathetic, and completely unlike him.
He glanced over at Michael, who looked unconvinced. There was no point trying to explain any of it to him. Human women were only good for two things according to Michael: nourishment and entertainment.
Alexander looked down at the glass in his hand; its amber liquid seemed to glow in the subdued light of the library. He couldn’t quite explain it to himself, either. Catherine had had a profound effect on even the most powerful vampire that currently walked this earth—and he hadn't even met her yet! How was it that while everyone seemed to just want to taste her, his own feelings were way more complicated than that?
It would have been easier had he just wanted her blood for himself, but it wasn't that. He wanted her whole being, but only if she wanted him too. But above all, he wanted her to be safe.
He took another sip and set his glass down on the table.
This urge was so alien to everything he'd known for centuries.
Was this what love was?
Chapter Ten
Cat had been working at Sotheby's for about a week when Desmond called in with the flu, leaving Cat to fend for herself.
For most of the day, Cat had done exactly the same as on previous days: hidden herself away down in the basement and completed some tasks Desmond had taught her.
The catalog prep was done for the week, and since they had an auction coming up, it was time to compile all upcoming lots in a spreadsheet so that after the event, they could enter how they'd performed. This data would be filed and compared to previous records of similar items.
It was all rather technical and boring on the face of it. Luckily, the lots themselves were so interesting that Cat managed to keep herself entertained.
She was almost done for the day when the door to the cramped little basement office swung open, revealing the last person she wanted to see.
"Catherine. Good, you're still here," Ms. Pryce said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Yes, Ms. Pryce?" Cat responded almost on autopilot, as she saved her spreadsheet for the final time.
"I need you to stay behind." It wasn't a request; at least, it didn't sound like one.
Cat pressed her lips together and wondered what, if anything, she'd done wrong.
"The auction tonight. Normally Desmond would do this, but since he's not here..." Ms. Pryce clarified. "I need someone to observe the buyers, take notes on what they showed interest in, that sort of thing."
Cat's heart started to beat faster as soon as Ms. Pryce had said the word auction. This was her chance! And only a week into this job!
"Yes, of course I can attend tonight's auction!" Cat couldn't contain her excitement.
Ms. Pryce nodded. "I would expect no less. You might want to..." She gestured down at Cat's outfit. "Change into something more appropriate."
Cat looked down at her black trouser suit. What’s wrong with this? It was very business-like, or so she thought.
"Yes, of course," Cat mumbled.
Ms. Pryce folded her arms and squinted at Cat. "A shift dress. Black. Heels." She nodded to make her point, then turned around and walked out again. "It begins at seven."
Cat exhaled sharply, having realized she'd been holding her breath for most of the time Ms. Pryce had been talking to her. A little black dress and heels. She could manage that. Hopefully.
A quick glance at the clock revealed she didn't have much time, certainly not enough for a round trip home. So Cat did the only thing she could think of; she called for help.
"Hey you!" Shelly answered the phone.
"You busy?" Cat asked, ignoring her greeting.
"Just tidying up and heading home, why?"
"I have a fashion emergency," Cat said. Those last two words would be irresistible to someone like Shelly, who lived to dress up.
"Tell me more!"
Cat smiled and explained the problem. She knew she could count on Shelly. The phone call was over in minutes with a promise that Shelly would be on the way as soon as possible with a suitable outfit from Cat's closet.
Cat sank back in her chair and breathed a sigh of relief. No way was she going to blow this opportunity.
In an effort to be well prepared for the auction—and to pass the time—Cat picked up a copy of tonight's catalog and started to read. She recognized the names of the lots from her earlier spreadsheet, but the images and descriptions were all new to her.
The selection of items was vast, from paintings to figurines and tea sets to large pieces of furniture. She had no way of knowing where exactly she would be during the auction itself, but Cat was determined to take a look at some of these items in person if she could manage it.
Ha
lf an hour must have passed, and Cat had read through most of the catalog, pausing on the final entry.
The picture showed some mounted pages which appeared to be from an old unnamed book as per the description. What a strange thing to be selling. Cat held up the catalog and looked at it more closely. She couldn't explain what it was, but something about this listing intrigued her more than any of the others.
For sure, this was one she would have to see up close.
Her phone rang, startling her. She put the catalog back down on the desk.
"Hey, Shelly!"
"I'm outside."
Cat hung up and made a beeline for the exit.
Cat made it into the main hall upstairs ten minutes early. Ms. Pryce was already there, coordinating with other staff Cat had not met before.
"There you are." Ms. Pryce greeted Cat by handing her a clipboard and a pen.
"Yes, Ms. Pryce."
Ms. Pryce glanced down at Cat's outfit, like she had done earlier that evening already. There was nothing in her expression that signaled whether she approved or not.
Either way, it was too late to change anything. Cat smoothed her dress down with her free hand and awkwardly waited for her instructions.
"Within minutes, buyers will start to arrive. Jeremy and his people over here will ensure they find their seat and are given a paddle to make their bids with. Phone bids will be handled from over there beside the auctioneer's podium."
Cat nodded. It was a lot of information to take in and Ms. Pryce's tone suggested that as usual, she expected Cat to learn quickly.
"What I want you to do is to observe any active bidders and take notes. You take down the number on their paddle, the lot number they bid on, and anything else that stands out to you. And I want you to take your own initiative on this; I'm not going to spell out what to look for."
"Understood." This was a test. Cat was determined to pass it.
"And you do it from behind the curtain, so you don't attract too much attention to yourself." Ms. Pryce emphasized her instruction by pointing at the exact spot Cat should position herself at.
Cat nodded and started to walk toward the curtain.
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