To Hell and Back (Hellcat Series Book 4)

by Sharon Hannaford

  “Yeah, I know,” she reassured him, “just promise me you’ll keep working on it.”

  He smiled again, though a little more tiredly now. “Why don’t you go and get a few hours’ sleep,” he suggested. “We can catch up for lunch in a couple of days.”

  Gabi yawned; sleep sounded like a champion idea right about now. “All right, I’ve got to get Alex back to the Estate soon anyhow. I’ll give you a call later, and we can make plans. Make sure you get some sleep too,” she clucked. She wasn’t the only one sporting dark semicircles under her eyes.

  “I will, sweetheart.” He smiled, coming around his desk to give her a quick hug as she stood to leave. “You take care now.”

  She kissed his cheek and left the office, finding Alexander waiting for her in the outer office instead of at the Ferrari. Though his smile was bland when Gabi searched his face, she was sure she could detect a hint of mischief. And feminine perfume.

  ********************

  “My child,” the whiter haired man, calling himself Elder Phobos, said in a conciliatory tone, “be at peace. We are not here to harm you or make you feel uncomfortable.”

  A plain-looking woman with straight, mousy-brown hair turned from her pacing to glare at the old man.

  “What do you want from me?” she demanded rudely.

  “We understand you have been without companionship or guidance for a long time, child, but that is still no way to address one’s elders,” the grey-haired man rebuked her mildly. He’d introduced himself as Elder Deimos. “We only want to offer you a family, a place to call home, with others who understand you.”

  The young woman curled her lip in a sneer. “What makes you think you understand the smallest detail about me?” she asked scornfully. “I have no need of a family or a home.” She almost spat the words out, her voice dripping with disdain. “I had those things, and I spurned them. I’m more than capable of looking after myself.”

  “Yes,” Phobos replied, “you had a semblance of a home with the Casti Magi.” He spat the term out with even more venom than the woman had managed. “The pure and saintly. Those sanctimonious fools could never understand your needs, your desires, your kind of power. They would only seek to rein you in, teach you to subdue your power, direct your talent in ways entirely unsuited to your abilities.”

  While the woman hadn’t relaxed her posture, she was at least not castigating the men anymore. She’d fallen quiet, and it was obvious that the men tasted victory.

  “We can teach you,” Deimos said fervently. “We can show you the Dark ways. The pathways to true power. Levels of power the Casti have never dreamed of.”

  The woman’s eyes flashed, suspicion clouding them. “If your power is so great, why do you hide in the shadows while the others rule openly?” Her contempt was almost tangible. “With such great power you should’ve relegated the Casti to the shadows or annihilated them.”

  “We have been biding our time,” the white-haired Elder explained, as though to a slightly dim-witted child. “We are few while they are many. Enough ants can take on even the deadliest spider and win the battle.”

  “We have reached the endgame, and the most powerful piece in the game has just risen to the surface,” the other continued, with a more pacifying tone. “It has been in the control of the Casti for centuries, but now it is ours for the taking.”

  “You don’t want to be on the wrong side of this war,” Phobos warned with an ominous finality.

  The woman’s expression grew shrewd. “You need me.” She smiled, but it wasn’t an expression of joy or mirth. “Without me you have no hope of winning this war. Do you?”

  Both men narrowed their eyes, the grandfatherly act abolished. “And without us you have no hope of achieving your full potential,” Deimos hissed. “You will live the rest of your life in the shadows, scrounging for scraps of power, inflicting as much damage on the Casti as a bee inflicts on a buffalo. Never knowing the full glory of your power, never achieving the acme of your capabilities. You need us to teach you the Dark ways. And the Blood Magic.”

  “Make your offer, Old Ones,” she demanded after a short contemplative silence. “And make it a good one.”

  CHAPTER 3

  All thoughts of exsanguinated Werewolves were abolished as twilight settled over the City, and Gabi’s house suddenly seemed claustrophobically small. She was doing her best not to pace the length of her lounge, a difficult endeavour in her satin evening dress anyway. The midnight blue fabric clung to every curve of her body all the way down to her ankles, severely limiting her range of movement. Julius had promised her that Trish, his newest employee and Gabi’s close friend, had helped choose her dress for the special evening, but on seeing herself in the full-length mirror a few minutes ago, Gabi was convinced that Julius had had more say in the choice than Trish did. It was a good thing she’d spent a bit of extra time working out recently. While the dress fit to perfection, it would show the tiniest flaw in her body and was only half a step shy of being downright immodest in places.

  She fidgeted with the locket around her neck. She wasn’t used to wearing a necklace, but it seemed fitting to wear this particular one tonight. It had belonged to her friend Marcello, one of Julius’s personal guards, who’d been killed by the insane human Jason King. Touching it brought back memories of the Italian Vampire’s quick, easy laugh and his mischievous sense of humour. Gabi still missed him; she would’ve loved to have had him at her side tonight.

  Razor, her oversized, long-haired tabby cat, watched her from one of the sofas, his glare baleful now he knew he wasn’t allowed to join her this evening. He’d taken to accompanying her more often than not when she went out since their trip to the Princeps’ Court. As though one trip away with her had created an ongoing habit. Slinky the ferret had long since abandoned the idea of trying to climb up her dress to settle in his usual spot curled around her neck like a living scarf, and was instead folded into the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter, hoping that he was out of the path of the russet, furry, half-pound speed demon with a bottle-brush tail. Rocky, the tiny squirrel that Alexander had renamed Rocket, was dashing recklessly around the house at breakneck speed, chirping anxiously from the top of the curtains as Gabi’s nervousness grew strong enough for the tiny animal to sense it.

  Gabi reached up her hand towards Rocky, calling the little squirrel. She leapt from the curtain rail into Gabi’s outstretched hand without hesitation and chattered excitedly, immediately trying to clamber onto Gabi’s head.

  “No, sweetie.” She sighed, pulling the squirrel away from her hair. It’d taken the hairdresser nearly two hours to style it; fixing it herself was way beyond Gabi’s feminine abilities. She held the little creature cupped in two hands and breathed tranquillity towards her, using her supernatural Dhampir gift to push aside the nervous energy and replace it with subtle waves of reassurance.

  Rocky subsided with a tiny whoosh of breath and relaxed into her hands, gazing at her with adoring eyes. Gabi grinned despite her uneasiness and gently placed Rocky in the thick furry bed created by Razor’s half-curled tail. Rocky instantly burrowed in and made a comfy nest, and Razor, though still put out with her, carefully repositioned his body to curl protectively around the drowsy squirrel. Just as Gabi realised that calming Rocky had actually helped calm her too, Roman barked outside the window.

  The Rottweiler’s bark signalled the arrival of her ride for the night. Her anxiety ratcheted back up to full power in a heartbeat, and she quickly left the lounge before she upset the content animals again. She would’ve preferred to simply get herself to the Estate, even though it would mean arriving in her borrowed Audi, but Julius insisted that she wasn’t driving herself tonight. He’d warned her that it wouldn’t be him collecting her, so she quickly spoke the short incantation, using the power encapsulated in a small turquoise ring on her left hand to nullify Irene’s ward. Only a select few people were keyed into the ward and able to pass through unharmed; for anyone else, Gabi had to magi
cally disarm it. She filled her lungs with what she hoped was courage, and checked her make-up and hair one last time in the hallway mirror before opening her front door to find Roman keeping Alexander at bay with a low growl. The big dog was all right with Julius and rarely bothered to challenge Kyle anymore, even though dogs and Werewolves detested each other as a rule, but he still refused to allow any other supernatural to the door unless Gabi told him it was okay.

  Alexander folded his arms in impotent exasperation as Gabi lingered in the doorway behind Roman, one eyebrow raised in teasing challenge.

  “You know I’m not going to risk hurting the dog, Hellcat,” he groused. “Just get your sexy, little ass into the car so we can get you to your party on time.”

  “So tell me again why I couldn’t just have got ready at the Estate,” Gabi griped, annoyance bubbling up to mask her nerves. Alexander had tried to get her to sit in the back seat, but one look from her and he’d opened the front passenger door instead.

  “Because,” Alexander drawled, taking his eyes off the road to rake her body with a meaningful gaze. “Julius wouldn’t have been able to drag himself out of the bedroom to make his appearance.”

  “Bullshit,” Gabi returned dryly, though Alexander’s overdone leer was almost enough to make her laugh. As blazingly attractive as the English Vampire was, he’d never stood a chance with her in Julius’s company, and he’d never shown any indication that he even found her remotely appealing, but apparently that didn’t mean he couldn’t derive a little enjoyment out of her decidedly feminine form.

  Alexander threw his head back and laughed, steering Julius’s Aston Martin effortlessly through the tail end of peak-hour traffic.

  “I think he was worried if you saw the number of guests attending tonight that you’d bolt and never be seen again,” he explained. “But he does also have a thousand small details to oversee, and he’s being ridiculous and refusing to delegate anything tonight. Like the rest of us might just fuck it up.”

  Gabi frowned. She knew Julius to be good at delegating, especially the trivialities of something like a party. Maybe her state of anxiety wasn’t entirely unfounded after all.

  “Just how many guests are we talking about?” she asked, not sure she actually wanted to hear the answer.

  “Oh, about two hundred, give or take a dozen or so,” he remarked casually. At her gasp Alexander tried to hide a grin, but the slightest twitch of his jaw muscle gave him away. He was trying to wind her up, and enjoying it. She gritted her teeth; he would pay for this.

  “There can’t be that many in the Clan. Julius has only been a Master for a few years,” she said, tucking a marauding curl into a pin near the top of her head.

  “You don’t have to be a Master to create other Vampires, Hellcat,” Alexander retorted. “Julius has been Turning Vampires for two hundred years.”

  Gabi stilled; that was true. Simone had created Julius, Caspian and Dantè even though she’d never been a Master. And Julius had created Alexander long before he’d been a Master. She hadn’t given the issue much thought, but she’d assumed his Clan numbered a few dozen, not a few hundred.

  “So how does it all work, then?” she demanded, deciding it might be best to take another crash course in Vampire politics before the ceremony. “If any Vampire can create others, how do the creators keep control of their underlings if they aren’t Masters?”

  “We are all beholden to our Sires, irrelevant of whether they’re Masters or not,” Alexander explained. “It’s one of our laws. While the Princeps try to discourage the rest of us from Turning others, it’s not unusual for it to happen. What is unusual is for a non-Master Vampire to have as large a House as Julius did before he became a Master.”

  “House?” Gabi asked, confused.

  “It’s what we call a group of Vampires Turned by the same Sire or Sire’s line. We only become a Clan when our Sire becomes a Master.” He paused and glanced over at her again, one eyebrow raised quizzically. “Julius hasn’t explained any of this?”

  “I never got around to asking. And life has been a little hectic lately.” She frowned. “What do you mean by a Sire’s line?”

  “That means as long as my Sire is still alive, and I haven’t been freed by my Sire to begin my own house, anyone I Turn is automatically beholden to my Sire, not to me. It requires an oath of Fealty to me to break the bond from my Sire. To do that I either need my Sire’s agreement or I need to be stronger than my Sire. That’s why Julius had a House long before he killed Simone.”

  Gabi’s mind was racing, trying to fill in blank spaces she didn’t know she had. If she didn’t know enough about Vampire life, this evening could turn into an unmitigated disaster.

  “So all of the Vampires at the ceremony tonight are part of Julius’s Clan?” she checked.

  “No, not all.” Alexander shook his head. “There’ll be some other Masters from nearby Cities as well as a few lone Vampires who Julius considers friends.” He finally seemed to take pity on her and added, “There’ll be some familiar faces, though.”

  That was a small relief when Gabi realised there was no more time for cramming Vampire knowledge into her brain; the gates of the Estate loomed in front of them, and the guards on duty gave them a quick, respectful salute as Alexander sped through. Dozens of cars lined the lantern-lit drive and overflowed onto grass verges. Instead of driving to the front of the mansion, Alexander eased the car around the back of the house and into the underground parking garage.

  As he cut off the engine, he put a cautionary hand on her wrist. “If you try to run, I’ll be forced to catch you and drag you back,” he warned with an evil grin.

  “I’d have your fangs before you dragged me anywhere,” she retaliated “but, lucky for you, I don’t often run from something that scares me.” She tugged her arm away and flung open the car door before planting her dainty evening shoes firmly on the ground. Before she could alight from the car, Julius was there, one hand out, waiting.

  “No, you don’t,” he purred in agreement. “Or you would’ve run from me ages ago.” A warm blanket of reassurance wrapped around her as his strength and confidence flowed through their bond. He was breathtaking as he stood waiting for her to take his hand. The black tuxedo was flawlessly tailored to his build, his shirt deep red, and his bow tie black. The tiny dash of gold fabric peeking from his jacket pocket completed his outfit in her colours, the braided bracelet she’d tied to his wrist as part of their official ceremony just visible from his right cuff. Her bracelet, in Julius’s colours of black, blue and gold, was woven into her hair.

  “You don’t scare me.” She smiled, her tension dissipating just a little as she allowed him to help her from the car. Heedless of Alexander, she pressed close to him, drawing his familiar scent into her lungs.

  “He should,” Kyle muttered, coming up behind Julius.

  “Wolf,” Gabi almost shrieked. “What are you doing here?” Her surprise was doubled as she pulled away from Julius and saw that Kyle was dressed in a formal tuxedo with an emerald green bow tie. Her best friend since they were both teenagers, she tended to forget how attractive he actually was, especially if he put in a bit of effort. He wasn’t exactly in Alexander’s league of male beauty, and he couldn’t rival Julius’s indomitable presence, but he pulled off athletic hunk-next-door quite nicely. An inch or two shy of Julius’s six and a half, he looked the same height with his hair artfully spiked into a disarray quite contrary to the formalness of his attire.

  “I was invited,” Kyle said dryly, as though she was accusing him of gate-crashing.

  Julius drew her right hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, drawing her attention back to him. “Tonight is not just about me and the Clan, Gabrielle,” he told her as he touched the locket around her neck with a small, sad smile. “It’s about the two of us and our union. The people close to you have just as much right to be here as the Clan and my friends.”

  “Who else is here, then?” she demanded, her curiosity tempora
rily overriding her nerves.

  “Let’s go upstairs, and you’ll see,” he said in a soothing tone, making her flash him an annoyed glare. “You look incredible, by the way.” The purr was back in his voice, sending warm fingers of pleasure streaking through her. She barely suppressed a shudder as his cool hand pressed to her bare back and he began herding her towards the internal elevator. As the elevator doors slid open with a gentle whoosh, Gabi drew in a deep breath and steeled herself for the onslaught.

  The entertainment room had been utterly transformed. Gabi only just kept her mouth from hanging open in astonishment. She’d been through the ground floor of the newly built mansion several times in the last few weeks, but had never imagined how cleverly it had been thought out. The downstairs layout she knew consisted of the entertainment room, complete with bar, pool tables, flat-screen TVs and comfortable seating; the formal dining room, with seating for twenty; the boardroom with all the necessary equipment for business meetings of up to two dozen; and an additional more formal sitting room, which, as far as Gabi knew, had not yet been used. What she hadn’t previously appreciated was the fact that all of these rooms had retractable walls and were interlocked in such a way that they could all be opened onto one another.

  What she walked into tonight looked more like a formal ballroom in a hotel. The decor in the various rooms suddenly made sense to Gabi; what she’d thought of as a lack of decorating flair was actually an amazingly creative way of pulling together several smaller rooms to make one stunning formal room. All the usual furnishings were gone, except for the bar, and the rich velvet curtains had been drawn back from the windows and French doors to let in the mild evening air and allow access to the moonlit garden set with a vine-covered pagoda and filigreed, wrought-iron tables and chairs. Inside, the guests were gathering in small groups around cocktail tables or helping themselves to drinks and food from tables groaning with both.