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Yasmeen felt like doing cartwheels at the news. She could have several days off. Nalia approached as she put her phone away.
“I have three days off as well.” Yasmeen blurted.
What is wrong with you? She asked herself silently.
It was so out of character to be less than totally in control of her emotions.
Nalia silently clapped her hands together.
“Here is my address here in London,” Nalia said, putting it into Yasmeen’s phone, along with her phone number.
“Give me two hours to get there. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable.” she said, giving Yasmeen her key.
“Don’t you want to sleep?” Yasmeen asked.
“With you,” Nalia replied.
Nalia’s bright smile filled the cabin as she walked away.
Yasmeen felt elated. It was the first time she had taken time for herself in ages. Nalia sparked feelings in Yasmeen, which she had not experienced in a very long time. She smiled back as the plane landed. Yasmeen squirmed impatiently as they taxied to the gate. She squeezed Nalia’s hand and smiled as she departed the plane. The spring in her step was obvious.
“Wonderful trip or happy to be home, dear?” A woman at the baggage carousel asked Yasmeen.
“Both.” Yasmeen smiled.
She soon collected her luggage. It was a relief to have her knives and sword within reach again.
“You never know when the crazies will come out of the woodwork.” she said aloud.
She made her way to the car park to find her Audi.
“Nice wheels.” the attendant said.
“It’s no Aston Martin, but it gets me where I’m going.”
Yasmeen put the top down then took off her niqāb and the scarf covering her hair. She shook the curls loose as her hair came down while still at the tollbooth for the car park lot.
“My goodness, how beautiful you are!” the lady said as she returned her change.
“Thank you so much, that’s very kind of you to say.” she shouted as she drove away.
Yasmeen had already put Nalia’s address into the GPS before leaving the garage. It was not an area she was familiar with, so she followed the turns suggested by the computer.
“I expected Nalia’s place to be much closer to the airport?”
Almost an hour later, she pulled up in front of a beautiful building.
“Good evening, Madame. Do you have any luggage you need to be brought up?” A valet in a crisply pressed uniform asked.
“Why yes, in the boot. The one bag.”
The girl opened it and handed the bag off to the bell person.
“Just call down when you need the car. We’ll bring the car around right away.”
“Thank you.”
“If you follow me, mum. My name is Miss Sloane.” the bell person said.
She followed her inside. Two-Five-One Tower Bridge was absolutely fabulous. The material rarely impressed Yasmeen, but the lobby of Nalia’s building was no less than exquisite.
“It is breathtaking, is it not?” Sloane said, holding her bag.
“Incredible,” Yasmeen replied.
“You appear to have been expecting me, Miss Sloane?” Yasmeen asked.
“Oh, yes mum. Miss Khoury called ahead and said you would be arriving and to treat you first rate.”
“Well, thank you. I would describe your welcome exactly as first rate.”
“Miss Khoury’s apartment is on twelve.” she said as they stepped into the elevator.
Yasmeen waited for the traditional acceleration, but it never came. The only sign of motion was the quickly changing floor number on the display.
“This way, mum.”
It was another short walk down an elegant hall, and they were in front of a beautifully appointed foyer.
“Between you and me, what do these apartments cost?” Yasmeen asked.
“1.5 million pounds. Obscene isn’t it?” she covered her smile with her hand.
“Nalia’s father is quite rich and bought the place for her outright,” Sloane said holding her finger to her lips. “Shhhhhh.” she said.
“You have the key?” she asked.
“Oh yes, here it is.” Yasmeen handed it over.
Key was a misnomer. It was more of a credit card in appearance, black and glossy, containing no printed information at all. The young woman waved it in front of the glass foyer door. Once inside, she waved it again.
“Welcome, Miss Sloane.” A sultry voice in the apartment said to the valet.
“Amy, Miss Khoury has a guest. Please treat her as best you can.” Miss Sloane said.
“Amy?” Yasmeen asked.
“Nalia’s automated house mistress. She opens the blinds, orders groceries, changes the temp. Even starts the shower.” Miss Sloane said.
“If you need anything, press speed dial 5. We’ll get you fixed up quick as can be.”
“Thank you, Miss Sloane.” Yasmeen offered a gratuity.
“Oh, that is not needed at all, mum. I appreciate the thought. Two-Five-One pays me quite well. Have a good night, mum.”
“Amy, open the blinds,” Yasmeen said.
“Oh, my word.” The view was incredible. London Bridge lit up in blue light with a wonderful view of the Thames.
Yasmeen looked at her watch. It was another fifty minutes before Nalia was supposed to arrive. She pulled her laptop from her bag.
“Nalia isn’t paying for this place on a flight attendant’s salary.”
“Do you want to connect to the Internet, Yasmeen?” Amy asked.
“Yes,” Yasmeen replied.
“I’ll need to scan for viruses and malware before I connect you. Do I have your permission?”
“Yes, that is fine. Thank you.” Yasmeen replied. “I’m having a conversiona with a bloody computer AI.”
“Amy. Can you look up Nalia Khoury for me?”
“Yes,” The computer replied.
“Nalia Khoury. She is the second daughter of Azmat Khan, a wealthy shipping magnate here in London. Nalia is the heir to a multi-billion dollar fortune. She is known for her personal work in several charities, including homeless and children’s causes. Her sister and mother were killed in the 7/7 subway terrorist attack in 2005. Would you like to hear more, Miss Obiad?” Amy asked.
“No. That is enough, Amy.”
There was a small amount of guilt in researching Nalia but Yasmeen took Nalia’s instructions about making herself at home to heart and fixed chai for both of them. She sat on the couch enjoying the world-class view. She sat there thinking, sort of.
“Oh, my gosh!” she exclaimed. Realizing that she was thinking about nothing but Nalia.
“It’s easy to become lost in it, especially at night, isn’t it?” Nalia said from behind her.
Yasmeen jumped up half startled, half wanting to greet her.
“You have a beautiful place,” Yasmeen said.
Nalia took Yasmeen in her arms and kissed her deeply. They parted, both smiling, breathe heaving as desire filled them both.
“I made you tea,” Yasmeen said, pulling away from Nalia.
She held her hands. Now, Yasmeen’s mind spun out of control with possibilities. Desire filled them both as Yasmeen warmed her tea.
Why am I so attracted to her?
Should we see where it goes now?
Is it a fling?
Does she feel the same?
Why does it already seem so much deeper?
Should she surrender to it?
Nalia touched Yasmeen’s face then took a drink of tea. Setting her cup back down, Nalia held Yasmeen’s face in her hands, kissing her gently and pressing Yasmeen against the counter and cabinets. The two women pressed together. The kisses lingered longer becoming hungrier. Nalia slowly unbuttoned Yasmeen’s blouse, a single button at a time, unbutton, kiss, unbutton, kiss. Yasmeen slipped out of her blouse and bra. She went to work on Nalia’s blouse. Soon all those questions Yasmeen had disappeared in a cloud of desire.
“I, I want you,” Nalia said, pulling Yasmeen close then pulling her towards the bedroom.
The two woke in each other’s arms several hours later. A trail of clothing led to Nalia’s bed. Sex with Nalia was amazing, but it was more than that.
“It’s like an immediate, intimate, emotional connection between us,” Yasmeen told Nalia.
Nalia’s hand explored Yasmeen’s body, toying with her as she spoke. Eliciting sighs between thoughts. The questions she thought of earlier came back, only to be lost again in their passion.
“Is this just a fling?” she managed to breathe.
“Is that a problem if it is?”
“No, but I feel it’s more than that?” she said breathlessly.
Nalia continued to explore, caress, and kiss as Yasmeen spoke between sighs and kisses.
“An instant attraction.”
“Exactly, from the moment I saw you,” Nalia said, stopping her explorations.
Yasmeen was close, full of tension, then relaxed when Nalia stopped what she was doing. Yasmeen’s chest was heaving as she listened to Nalia. Nalia arose from the bed and went to the kitchen. She returned with glasses of orange juice.
“Come see the butterflies with me today?” Nalia asked.
“Now?” Yasmeen asked incredulously.
“No, silly, this afternoon. We have other things to do this morning.” they fell back into bed.
Hours later, the two were walking in a giant conservatory filled with butterflies. For the next three days, the two were inseparable. Both took an additional day off to spend together. Reluctantly, they finally parted.
“I need to go back to work to get some rest,” Nalia said their last night together.
“I don’t want to rest, and I don’t want to leave you,” Yasmeen whispered.
“When can we see each other again?” she asked.
“I’ll be gone a week, then two days off. You can stay here while I’m gone.”
“No.” Yasmeen pouted. “I’m overdue as well.”
“Your boss is a taskmaster?”
“Sort of.”
“It will be the longest week of my life.”
Yasmeen continued to pack up her bag. Parting was difficult, but finally, Yasmeen was out the door.
For the first time in memory, focusing on work was a problem. She was not even out of the elevator at Two-Five-One before she was dreaming of Nalia’s kiss.
“Good afternoon, Miss Obiad. Your car is on its way.”
“Why, hello, Miss Sloane. Thank you very much.”
Yasmeen’s Audi roared to a stop in front of her.
“Outstanding car, Miss Obiad.” the young man said, holding the door open for her.
“See you soon?” Sloane asked.
“I can only hope,” she replied and drove off.
Nalia picked up her phone and dialed.
“She just left. The tracker is on her car. A bug is in her purse, and another is, well, let’s just say she will never guess where it’s at.”
“Does she suspect you are a plant?”
“Not at all. She’s in love, maybe for the first time. Obiad’s not thinking like a security professional. She is off-balance.”
“Keep it that way. When do you see her again?”
“In a week. For two days.”
Despite that it was business, Nalia could not help her thoughts straying to Yasmeen. There was something more to this girl. Yasmeen stirred something in her.
The driver held a sign waiting for Charles at Heathrow terminal baggage claim.
“If you wait a moment, I’ll retrieve your luggage and we’ll be on our way.”
“Very good,” Charles replied.
“It’s my understanding that a package is at the hotel waiting, sir.”
“Thank you.” the tone told the driver his passenger was not in the mood for small talk.
The drive to the hotel was short. Charles left the bellman to retrieve his luggage and went inside.
“This way, Mr. Luis.”
Once in his suite, Charles made the phone call to Selene.
“Charles! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Selene asked.
“I’m in London, dearest. I come bearing gifts.”
“How wonderful. Where are you?”
“My usual hotel, but I’d prefer to meet you somewhere less public.”
“What exactly is it you have brought me?”
“I’ll explain when I arrive.”
“We actually just arrived at Kinlochard Castle.”
“We?” Charles asked.
“I’ll explain when you arrive.”
“Kinlochard, the Scottish Highlands. Is it acceptable to visit you there?”
“Certainly. You know the way, Charles.”
Charles called the front desk to arrange for a car to Kinlochard. The ride was tedious, but fortunately, he slept most of it. Waking only when they were crossing the bridge to the gatehouse.
The house mistress answered the door when he arrived.
“Miss Selene is waiting in the study for you, sir.”
“We have put Mr. Luis in the Antler room, mum.”
“Thank you.”
The headmistress excused herself once they were in the study. When the headmistress was out of the room, Charles took out the small box he had brought with him.
“Welcome to Kinlochard. It’s so good to see you, Charles. It’s so considerate to time your arrival during the evening. Please sit down.”
“Here is that present I mentioned,” he said, passing over the box.
She opened it and sucked in her breath.
“Where on earth did you get these?”
“I’ll need a fine brandy for that tale,” Charles said.
“Charles Luis, I’m pleased to introduce you to Doctor Amara Korkolis.”
“Korkolis, Korkolis. Where have I heard that name before?” Charles muttered, shaking her hand.
“Is your father Gregori Korkolis?”
A quick glance at Selene went unnoticed by Amara.
“Yes, father spent a great deal of time in Syria. Is that where you met?”
“Briefly at a conference about the Dead Sea scrolls. That was long ago. May I offer my condolences on him going missing, young lady? He was a friend of a mutual acquaintance. Mr. Farnetti told me he’d disappeared.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, but I have personal business to discuss with Selene. Would you excuse us for a bit?”
“Certainly,” Amara said, looking at Selene.
Selene stared at the stones as she poured a drink for Charles. He took a long pull from the glass.
“Being the capitalist I am, I feel obligated to inform you of several new players joining our game.”
“Yes, it has become more complicated over the years, hasn’t it? How much, being a capitalist, are you wanting for this information?”
“$10,000.”
“Done.”
“Quite beautiful, your new friend. Wiccan I believe. Laying all our cards on the table. Is Amara now allergic to sunlight?” Charles asked.
“Yes, Wiccan you say? But she’s not really a topic of discussion.”
We have always spoken discreetly, obtuse whenever possible. I think it best if we speak directly now, yes?” Charles asked.
“Yes.”
“Feel free to correct any misunderstanding.”
“Your real name is Asherah, some three thousand years old. Cast out of heaven by the one true God, whatever that means.”
“An egomaniac who can’t admit he had help but go on.” Selene interrupted.
“You are cursed to roam the earth as a, forgive me for being indelicate, blood-sucking fiend.”
“Correct.”
“You have created fifty-one vampires, like yourself, over the millennia. Six of which have been killed off by groups, including the Roman Catholic Church.”
“Yes. Pope Gregory made it a priority to track our progeny and us down after the sixth century.”
“There is another piece to that I’ll share later.” Charles said.
Selene cocked an eyebrow at Charles.
“You know that not all your victims have succumbed, correct?”
“The odd person over the centuries.”
“Ninety-eight, to be precise, between you and the others.”
“Others?” Selene looked shocked.
“Yes. Some of your progeny, as you called them, can create more like yourselves. You seem surprised.”
“I am, but we will put a pin in that for now.”
“This group is called The House of Estries. They fear your Ascension in the Chariot will destroy them. They’ve been actively working against you to keep The Tears of Angels out of your hands.” Charles told her.
“And do you have the names of these vampires from The House of Estries?”
“Yes, we’ll discuss that later.”
“So, ten of my kind and a religious cult want me destroyed. What else?”
“I must say, you are taking this much better than I expected,” Charles noted.
“Go on, please,” Selene told him.
“Does the name Sharit Hagel mean anything to you?”
Selene nodded. “My first victim. I recently saw her.”
“That was no mistake. She’s taunting you. They have two of the final four stones. Sharit and her group are the ones who have killed six of your number.”
“They have the two stones, you say?” Selene asked.
“Sharit and her group do, yes as bait to draw you out for slaughter. Then there are five Galanté Cardinals. A powerful group that also fears your Ascension back into heaven would spell the end of all of them.”
“This has been most informative. I have a last question for you. Why shouldn’t I separate your head from your shoulders right now for orchestrating this whole mess?”
“Aaah, but I am not the conductor, Madame,” he looked up as he spoke.
“Only as a bit player distributing instructions and planning so the pieces on the board are in their proper place at the proper time. I fear the game may soon be ending.”
Selene looked very annoyed by Charles.
“And what is the music for the ending scene?”
“I do not wish to spoil the game, Madame.”
“And who do you work for?”
“Myself, of course. I play all against the middle.”
“I’m going to need names, Charles, addresses, positions, strengths and weaknesses. And... Why are you helping me?”
“Oh, my sweet, for someone who had a hand in all creation and gave life to angels, you really have bumbled along cluelessly for the last three millennia. Let’s just say it makes my heart sing to see you happy again and see Him get his comeuppance at the same time.”
She accepted that for the moment, knowing it was not the complete story.
“So, we have more subplots and intrigue than Game of Thrones. I kind of like that.” He said.
Selene seemed exasperated by Charles’s deception. Charles began speaking dramatically. Asking questions in rapid fire fashion.
“Will the stones call the Chariot? Will there be a resurrection of those trapped in the rubies? Will the vampires and Cardinals disappear if you ascend? Will there be a Templar-like purge by the Vatican?” Charles postulated aloud.
“I’ll see what I can do to shake the location of the last stones loose; then we will really see what is what.” He continued.
Outside the door of the study where Selene and Charles were talking, Amara listened with rapt attention.
“Wiccan, Witch?” she whispered the question in the hall. “Sweet Jesus, what have I gotten myself into?”
She opened the door and walked into the room. Both Selene and Charles were surprised by Amara’s entrance.
“We need to talk,” Amara said forcefully.