Key to Justice

by Talia Gryphon

  Her captor sat across from her, reading some type of scroll that looked like it was written in some very ancient text. It wasn’t Hebraic or Egyptian; she was certain of that. There were stacks of books, sheets of notes written in various languages, more scrolls and even a stone tablet or two strewn on the table that separated them, as well as on the seat next to him and on the red carpeted floor.

  Since he’d released her mind after takeoff, explaining that he needed her support and company on this venture, she had weighed her option of killing him versus her professional obligation as his therapist. He had been spending their flight time deeply engrossed in his apparent research, while she’d pondered various escape possibilities. Her preoccupation was not going as well as his, and she was beginning to fidget.

  Glacial green eyes lifted to her own. “I do apologize again, Gillian, for my unseemly behavior. Controlling your mind was necessary to ensure your complete cooperation without wasting time on explanations at that particular moment.”

  “Not accepted, Csangal. This is not okay,” Gillian growled at him, shifting in her chair to plunk a booted foot down on some of his scrolls on the table. She was just a wee bit scared. Empathy and nerves were firing at an alarming rate. She wasn’t currently in any immediate danger, but her options were rather restricted.

  “Do be careful, my dear; these are very valuable,” Csangal scolded, lifting her foot and removing the scrolls out of harm’s way, then replacing her heel on the table.

  “Why am I not tied up in the hold or bolted in your coffin? Why am I loose in here when you know damn well that I am armed?” She was also rather confused.

  He chuckled. “There is nowhere for you to go, Gillian. We are thirty- five thousand feet in the air. If you shoot me, you will not have time to kill me before my associates dismember you. If you attempt to shoot yourself, I shall take your pretty gun away. If you attempt to shoot a window out, I shall also take your gun away and quite possibly injure you in the process.”

  Shit and double shit. Yeah, he could do all that and so much more. She was so screwed.

  “What the hell do you need me for? Aleksei isn’t stupid; he’ll figure out who took me and why.”

  “Rachlav will indeed eventually determine who took you, but I do not believe you actually know the answer to that yourself.”

  “What does that mean? I know exactly who you are.”

  “Do you?” He smiled at her, his sheer beauty making her eyes glaze for a moment. “You know what I have told you. That is all.”

  She shook her head to clear her mind of his spectacular visage, frowning at him. “But you haven’t lied to me. I would have sensed it.”

  “You are correct. Nothing I told you was a lie, but it was also only what I wanted you to know at the time, Dr. Key.” The smile he gave her this time was absolutely chilling.

  Stark terror slammed through her in response, putting whatever fear the Ripper had instilled in her to shame. No doubt the reaction he intended. Bastard. Gulping her heart back down into her chest where the damn thing belonged, she asked the obvious question in her most level voice. “Then what do I need to know now?”

  “That you are my therapist, my prisoner and perhaps my salvation.”

  “Therapist I know; prisoner I figured out all by myself. But salvation? How am I going to manage that?” Gill tried to insert a little bravado into her voice. He would not get to her. He simply would not.

  “An exchange, Doctor. You for my redemption.”

  He turned back to his papers and scrolls, leaving her to deliberate what the hell that meant.

  Gillian unconsciously tapped her front teeth with her thumbnail, her mind racing at his enigmatic statement. Some nights it just didn’t pay to get up in the evening. Maybe she ought to take Aleksei up on his offer and quit doing this for a living. She was getting too old for this cloak-and-dagger shit.

  Aleksei. Sweet Hathor, she wished she could tell him where they were going. Shit, she wished she knew where they were going.

  “Bellissima.”

  It took all of her discipline not to shriek with joy at the familiar black velvet of his voice in her mind.

  “Do not react, Gillian,” he quickly warned her. “I have only just been able to reach you; our bond is very tenuous, as I am still learning my abilities.”

  “It’s a Vampire named Csangal, Aleksei. He is a Master but more powerful than any I’ve ever seen. He clouded my thinking . . . I’ve never experienced anything like it. I couldn’t yell for help or I would have. Hell, I don’t even know where we are headed.”

  She sounded anxious but in control of herself as she rapidly fed him only necessary information and didn’t elaborate on her own feelings or fears. Confidentiality violations ended when the patient kidnapped the therapist, she thought as she looked around, trying to send him as much information visually as she could.

  He sent her a burst of pride and love coupled with his relief that she was alive. Anyone else would have been hysterical with fear, but not Gillian. “I know, piccola. But it is not Csangal who has you.”

  Gill paused in her mental pictorial diatribe of the plane, Csangal and the mounds of information he was studying to focus on what Aleksei had just said. “Who is it, then? Wait . . . Csangal has to be his name. He didn’t lie to me, I am sure of it.”

  “Gillian, listen carefully. You are Dracula’s prisoner. ‘Csangal’ is merely one of his aliases. You are correct; he did not lie to you. He only misdirected the truth. He is probably taking you to where he believes his creator resides, possibly for a confrontation. There may be a religious connotation in his mind, but we are not positive of that.

  “Comply with whatever he wants and stay alive, cara. Do not confront him. We are all working together to find you. I will contact you again soon.”

  His comforting presence was turned off as if he had flipped a mental switch. Gillian lit a cigarette to keep her nervous hands busy. She processed what he’d told her, managing to look reasonably relaxed. It wouldn’t do to tip her hand or let Csan—er . . . Dracula know about her subversive commentary with Aleksei. It was all she could do not to freak out about being three feet away from the boogeyman of all Vampires.

  Stupid Dracula. Stupid top secret Vampire validation mission. Apparently there were a few things about actual Vampire Lords and their mystical magical foo powers that some nimrod forgot to cover in her Ph.D. program. She was going to have a talk with Helmut, Daed and the board at IPPA about revising the current course material with more accurate information . . . if she survived.

  Fuck. This was just getting better and better.

  “She is alive!” The relief in Aleksei’s voice and bearing swept over everyone in the room.

  They were all gathered in a rough circle, debating Dracula’s actual intentions in both his mission and with Gillian. Aleksei had been trying periodically to contact her since her disappearance, without success until now. To feel her presence, hear her voice, if only for a moment, filled him with renewed hope.

  “Wonderful!” Osiris gave him a sincerely felt smile, squeezing Isis’s hand tightly. He genuinely liked Gillian, especially since her very public career was encouraging ever-increasing numbers of Humans to truly view Paramortals as real people.

  Isis glanced up at her mate. She knew his interest in Gillian was completely academic. Anyone he held in esteem was well regarded among the general population of non-Humans. Both of them were tremendously fond of Aleksei and Tanis outside the bonds of their sworn loyalty. Gillian Key’s importance to the brothers was enough to have brought them here, even without the threat Dracula posed.

  “Look, I’m bored out of my tiny little Human mind over here.” Gillian leaned toward the document-covered table that separated them. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for and let me see if I can help you find it.”

  Dracula’s chilly aqua eyes rose and regarded her intently. “I do not believe you can read Sumerian pictoglyphs, hieroglyphics or Phoenician, Gillian.”<
br />
  She sighed. “No, but maybe if you explain it to me, it might become clearer to you. Sometimes the best way to learn about something is to teach it to someone else.”

  A slight frown creased his perfect brow as he considered her request. “Why the sudden change? A moment ago you were contemplating killing me or bringing the plane down.”

  “Yes, I was, but as you pointed out, either option would be suicidal.” Her eyes locked with his own. Nobody smiled.

  “We cannot have you dying too soon, Dr. Key.” That was from a completely new female voice directly behind her.

  Gillian spun, rising from the chair and standing as far away from the voice as she could. Unfortunately that put her very close to Dracula, but he was a known threat. This new person was a surprise. Gill hated being surprised.

  “Who the hell are you?” she demanded, then stared.

  It was like looking in a mirror. The woman’s hair was more yellow than Gillian’s golden blonde, her eyes were a lighter green, but her height, her facial features . . . The word doppelganger leapt to mind. She might have been Gillian’s sister or close relative.

  “I am Elizabeta. Surely Aleksei mentioned during his therapy that he once had a fiancée?” A very smug smile formed on those shell pink lips.

  “You’re supposed to be dead,” Gill blurted out, still wrapping her mind around how much the woman looked like herself. She and Aleksei needed to have a talk about possible clinical transference if she lived through this. Old fears clawed at her psyche. She needed to be sure it was herself he loved and not a facsimile of his former fiancée.

  “I was . . . but as you can see, I am quite alive.”

  “I found her to be most interested in being Reborn, Gillian,” Dracula said smoothly. “It seems Aleksei denied her that privilege.”

  Gillian kept her mouth shut. That wasn’t the story Aleksei had told her. According to him, Elizabeta was a gold digger, who was more interested in his ability to make her immortal than in their relationship. Aleksei believed she had died in childbirth, calling his name while married to another man.

  What do you say to the suddenly appearing former fiancée of your current . . . boyfriend? “Hi”? No, that wouldn’t work. Neither would “Nice to meet you.” Trying to sort out appropriately spontaneous. diplomatically phrased responses gave Gillian a headache.

  The hell with it.

  “Well . . . so here we are. On a plane. Together.”

  “So it would seem.” Elizabeta’s eyebrow lifted as she circled Gillian.

  Dracula rose, taking Gillian’s hand and drawing her back toward him. “Enough, Elizabeta. You have disregarded my order to remain hidden until we reach our destination.”

  The Vampiress’s face reflected her concern. “I am truly sorry, my Lord. I wanted to see her for myself.”

  “ ‘My Lord’?” Gillian echoed her.

  “Go back with the others and remain there.” Dracula ignored Gillian’s comment, fixing his gaze on Elizabeta.

  Elizabeta nodded and turned away, giving Gillian a deadly glare as she did so. “As you wish, my Prince.”

  “ ‘Prince’? Is there something you’ve forgotten to tell me in our therapy, Csangal?” Gillian asked in her nicest “I’m aware of your trickery, sir” voice.

  “I apologize, Gillian.” Dracula’s voice brought her head around to look at him.

  “For springing Aleksei’s supposedly dead fiancée on me? Damn nice of you. Thanks.”

  His face darkened. “Truly, I am sorry for that and for deceiving you the way I have. I suppose it should be clear to you that I have not been entirely honest about who I am.” Uncharacteristically, his eyes lowered and he managed to actually look repentant for a brief moment.

  This was new. The dreaded Dark Prince showing remorse? Her empathy wasn’t flaring at all; in fact, it hadn’t since she’d been with him. His power had to be the reason. She clearly hadn’t understood just how much power he had until now. Apparently none of her instructors, mentors or any of the Humans she’d studied with perceived the true level of power wielded by a fanged Lord.

  As he said, he hadn’t actually lied to her at any time, just misrepresented the facts. She should have picked up on it. Hell, Aleksei should have noticed. Thinking back, she realized her senses had only tingled around the Egyptians and Dionysus, despite their impressive age and power. Probably due to them not being secretive shits.

  During an earlier conversation with Cassiopeia, her mentor had reiterated what she had already been told: their power took time to develop. If they were destined to be a Master or a Lord, they rose with greater aptitude than their fellows. So, Aleksei’s power was technically still in its infancy since the dampening fields had been removed. Dracula, on the other fang, had had centuries to sharpen his considerable skills and, since he wasn’t keen on honesty and cooperative living, had honed the skills that would make him what he was: a monster.

  Gill settled back into her seat, still watching her host, who again had his face buried in ancient scripts and was writing notes in his own special shorthand. She couldn’t read or make sense of it.

  Think, Gill, think.

  Well, practically speaking, she was a therapist, which she had temporarily forgotten when her Oh-Shit-a-Meter had gone off the scale due to recent events. Technically he was still her patient; she understood a lot about him. And Aleksei had shared some valuable information with her about what he was potentially after. Shit, there had to be a way to find out his true intentions. All right, back to the previous conversation before they were interrupted by what’s-her-name.

  “As I was saying, why don’t you share with me and let’s see if I can help.”

  Aquamarine eyes pinned her for a moment and a slight smile quirked his flawless mouth. “Rest assured, Gillian, you will help me regain what I have lost. I am trying to determine exactly how best to accomplish that.”

  “What is it you believe you lost?”

  “My humanity. I do not know what other word to use, but something died in me long ago.”

  Gill sat up at that and leaned forward. “You know, Csang—er . . .What exactly would you prefer that I call you now . . . since you pointed out that you’re not actually who you claimed to be?”

  “My given name is Vlad.”

  “Vlad . . . as in . . . Vlad Dracula?” There. Now everything was out in the open and clarified. No need for her to fake it and accidentally reveal Aleksei as the source of her knowledge.

  He smiled and nodded. “Yes, as Elizabeta so unfortunately revealed, I am the proverbial Dark Prince.”

  “Fabulous. I won’t insult your intelligence by saying it’s nice to meet you, because right now this sucks,” Gillian said pointedly.

  “I understand, my dear.”

  “You want me to call you Vlad instead of Csangal now, is that right?”

  “That is up to you. Either name is correct,” Vlad informed her.

  Supremely relieved that he wasn’t insisting on “my Lord” or any other subservient title, Gillian acknowledged him. “All right, Vlad. I know you are aware that Vampires can never become Human again.”

  “Not Human, Gillian.” He looked at her as if she were a slow pupil. “My humanity. There is a difference.”

  “My bad. Okay, let’s start there. When do you believe you lost your humanity?”

  His mouth tightened. “When I killed my mistress. I was too drunk with the power I had received and believed myself to be a God of sorts. It is amazing what a few centuries of wisdom can teach. I know that I lost something precious that I believed could never be regained.”

  Calling bullshit on that one, she thought to herself. “I see. Pardon me for not understanding, but where does that wisdom fit in with your current beliefs that Humans are an inferior species to Paramortals?”

  “You are inferior,” he interjected. “Humans are the minority species compared to the thousands of Paramortal varieties in this world, yet your kind presumes to make the rules for all Beings, including
those who have sprung from a magical font.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question.”

  Dracula paused. “I am not certain I understand what you’re asking.”

  “You are labeling a part of yourself as Human—your humanity—and considering it precious to you, yet you perceive Humans as a race or species not valuable in any way to you except as nourishment or prey. How do you reconcile the dichotomy of wanting or admiring characteristics from something you hate? It’s like saying you respect a serial killer’s organizational skills.” She spoke in her calm, quiet therapist voice. Provoking him wasn’t on her mind at the moment; buying time was.

  Deeply creased frowns on infamous Vampire Lords are never a good sign. Gillian hoped she hadn’t pressed a major oopsie button.

  “I see what you mean, Gillian. I had not considered this before.”

  Either he was making an enormous concession to himself and to her, or he was about to be supremely pissed off. All she needed to do was sit back and wait for him to process his own thoughts.

  “That does seem a bit ridiculous, when you say it like that.” He smiled ruefully at her. There was a glow beginning in the back of his eyes that she wasn’t quite sure of.

  “Not ridiculous, Vlad, just a different way of looking at it.” It would definitely not be a good idea to taunt him about his oversight right now.

  He stared at her. He couldn’t decide if she was being kind or contentious. “When I was gifted with Rebirth, I knew my power came from the Divine, that I had been given great talents and skills with which to keep my Country safe. I believed that I was an avenging angel . . . until I killed . . . not from hunger, not for food, but because I simply wanted to exercise my abilities.

  “My temper grew shorter, my viewpoint less tolerant; I was given these gifts, yet Humans sought to take away my throne, my family, my right to rule my people and Country as I wished.”