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Chapter 23

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L

ucan paused at the door of the library of the mansion in Romania which served as the seat of the Shadow Council. Boxes lay strewn around the room, filled with books as Opyri went about the task of emptying the shelves.

“Ah,” the Prince of House Aspara said when he spied his scion at the door. “Glad to see you made it home safe and sound, Lucan.”

“What is going on here?” Lucan asked.

“We’re moving.”

“Why?”

“There is a small threat to the Council that we would rather avoid. Come in, come in. Tell me, how is the Prince of House Svetoslav?”

“Prince Aleksandar is grieving,” Lucan replied, unable to draw his attention away from the Opyri packing the books. He had spent many evenings in this library, enjoying the works within it. It felt strange to see the shelves so empty.

“I’m sure you received my report about the death of his living kin.” Lucan turned to his prince with a frown. “What threat? Does this have something to do with the lead about the attacks on House Svetoslav.”

“Yes,” the Prince of House Aspara said. “A little.”

“A little? What is the threat?”

The prince waved his hand in a silent indication to stop Lucan from worrying about it. “That is no longer important. We have an agent taking care of it.”

An agent. Lucan well knew what the words ‘an agent’ meant. They meant that the Shadow Council had contracted one of the Nosphoros to take care of an issue. There had once been twelve Nosphori. Those twelve began the Opyri Houses, recruiting innocents, willing or not, to the shadows to fight their petty civil wars for them. One Opyri revolt and several enterprising hunters later, there remained but eight. Eight masters of death that the Shadow Council contracts to take care of their problems for them.

“It is not important. What is important is that you’ve come home and you are safe. Here.” The prince handed Lucan an unsealed envelope. Lucan stared down at it, flipped it open and pulled two tickets to Amsterdam. They were dated for the following day.

“That is where the Council will move.”

“And what of the lead about the attacks on House Svetoslav?” Lucan asked. He knew the answer already, though.

There was only one threat to the Shadow Council—a vengeful Opyri. And there was only one Opyri who could potentially pass the Council’s protections. He had done it once already in his wrathful quest to destroy the House that had killed his beloved prince.

Aleksandar Svetoslav.

“It’s Aleksandar, isn’t it?” Lucan asked his prince. “He is the threat.”

The Prince of House Aspara grimaced. “He is a maverick, Lucan. We cannot risk him continuing amongst us.”

“The whole thing was planned from the beginning,” Lucan said. “The destruction of House Üstrel, sending House Svetoslav to replace them. You were setting him up for annihilation.”

It surprised Lucan how appalled he was at the idea. He had not thought much of Aleksandar’s dark temper before he had been sent to America to observe for the Council. He had not approved of Aleksandar’s actions following the death of Theodore, though he knew they were all legal and in accordance with the rules of conduct set forth by the Covenant.

Now, however, things were different. He had seen that Aleksandar’s dark temper had been the result of fierce loyalty, the same loyalty that the Opyri of House Svetoslav offered him as their prince; a well-earned loyalty. Aleksandar’s tireless work to improve the lot of those around him extended not merely to the members of his House, but to all; even the innocents. He and Lucan had discussed this once. Aleksandar had uttered a wish for his ceaseless life to mean something, that some good might come out of the evil of the curse he carried.

Lucan stared down at the tickets.

“The destruction of House Üstrel was unfortunate and unforeseen. It did, however, present us with an opportunity which we seized. We will see you in Amsterdam, yes?” Lucan’s prince asked.

“Of course,” Lucan said, his shoulders dropping. He had not been sent to oversee the establishment of House Svetoslav in America. He had been sent to oversee its destruction. The loss of Aleksandar would devastate that House.

“Good. Now go wash up. There is a young girl awaiting our pleasure downstairs.”

Lucan nodded. He turned and headed towards the room he had occupied in the thousand years he had been alive. He paused when passing the large office that often served as the informal meeting place of the Council. Checking to ensure he was not followed, he slipped inside the room and began searching it.

He found what he was looking for quickly. In the draw of files that sat unlocked in the desk there was a precisely plotted schematic of the manor Aleksandar now inhabited, as well as the cottage which now lay in ruins. Present also was an intricate network of underground tunnels, separate from the public works of the city. Beneath the estate that once held the cottage were large chambers. That, no doubt would be where the Nosphoros would be hiding. Lucan was certain Aleksandar had no knowledge of these tunnels and chambers. He committed the blueprints to memory. They might become useful in the future. Replacing the files, Lucan slipped from the room and continued to his quarters.

Once there, he sat slowly on his bed, his mind turning over all he had just learnt.

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Morning came too early for Alicia’s liking. As Aleksandar had dismissed his staff, citing the current threat to his household, there was no one to make breakfast but Aleksandar. It was an awkward morning. Brody had gone to Alicia’s room to find it empty. He panicked at first, only to be confronted with her as she tried to creep back from Aleksandar’s room. The detective had guessed immediately, no doubt Alicia’s guilty expression serving as his smoking gun.

He said nothing, though, and remained staunchly silent as he ate. The breakfast was enormous, with sausage and bacon to spare, as well as scrambled eggs, fried tomatoes, and home fries.

Despite himself, Brendon ate three helpings. Misery and starvation had battled for control over him, and it was his body’s need for sustenance that won the fight. Aleksandar watched him eat with a small smile. Brendon would be alright if only they could keep him safe.

Alicia also ate, trying with great effort to ignore Brody’s hard looks in her direction as she did so.

No longer needing to hide his true self in plain sight, Aleksandar forewent the food and instead sipped at his coffee in silence.

“The drivers are here,” Brody said, checking his phone after it buzzed. “We should get you two to the safe houses.”

“I still don’t want to go,” Brendon said, looking at Aleksandar.

“I know,” Aleksandar said quietly. “But I am the bait and cannot have you in harm’s way.”

“So you’re just going to stay here until this psycho attacks?”

“That is the idea.”

Brendon shook his head. He stood and picked up his plate.

“Leave the dishes,” Aleksandar said. “I can take care of them.”

Sighing Brendon put down his plate and left to get his bags. Alicia did the same, ignoring Brody’s steady gaze as she passed him.

“So are you two back on, then?” Brody asked as the door closed behind Alicia. Aleksandar looked at him briefly, wearing that familiar small smile that Brody found so irritating.

“One night,” Aleksandar said quietly. “One last night of make-believe.”

Brody looked at him with questions in his eyes, then decided that he didn’t want to know what bizarre fantasy Aleksandar had spent the night revelling in.

Instead, he followed the Opyri prince to the foyer. Brendon and Alicia were there waiting already.

“Okay,” Brody said. “Let’s go.”

Aleksandar walked them to the door, but would not step outside. The sun beat on the paved driveway with a fierce intent. Alicia stopped at the door and turned to Aleksandar.

“Be careful,” she said.

“I will try.”

“Not good enough, Aleksandar. Promise me you will be careful.”

Aleksandar smiled. He took Alicia’s hand and kissed it gently. “I will try,” he said again.

Alicia shook her head. Leaning close, she kissed him on the cheek, letting her lips linger. “Come back to me at the end of this,” she whispered.

Offering her the barest of smiles, Aleksandar turned away to give his farewell to Brendon.

“Stay strong,” Aleksandar told the youth. “And stay safe.”

Unable to hold back, Brendon wrapped his arms around Aleksandar. “Thank you for everything,” Brendon said, the words obscured by the pressure of Aleksandar against his face. “God knows where I might have ended up. Dead on the streets, probably.”

Aleksandar smiled slightly. “I’m sorry you’ve been caught up in this,” Aleksandar whispered. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad Stoyan convinced me to take you in.”

Brendon pulled away, fighting back more tears.

“I’ll see you again, right? You’re going to get this guy and then I can come back, right?”

“I’ll try,” Aleksandar said again.

Gathering himself, Brendon nodded. He picked his bags up from the foyer floor and headed to the car where Brody and Alicia waited.

“You’re in the second car with me,” Brody told him. He turned to Alicia and handed her a small phone. “This is a burner phone. You’ll use it until this passes. Call me the moment you get to the safe house, all right?”

“Yes, sir,” Alicia said, taking the phone. She smiled at Brody. “I’ll see you again soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” Brody said. “You know the drill. Listen to your guards.”

“Promise.” Alicia turned back to Aleksandar, who watched from the shaded threshold of the manse. He smiled sadly at her. Alicia smiled back, then clambered into the back of the unmarked cruiser that would take her to her safe house.

Hers was the first car to drive away from the mansion, gliding smoothly and silently on the fresh paving stones in the driveway.

“Okay you,” Brody said to Brendon. He walked to the second car and opened the back passenger door. “In you get.”

Brendon turned briefly to Aleksandar before doing as he was told. Brody shut the door. He stood by the car briefly before walking back up to the house.

“Never thought I’d be working with one of you,” he said. “And I never thought I would ever say this to a vampire, but be careful, okay? This guy, or whoever it is, knows what he’s doing.”

“I appreciate your concern.”

“It’s the force I’m concerned for,” Brody said. “Our captain has yet to have the paperwork cleared, so we’re operating without proper authorisation. If you fuck up and die, we’re all on the line.”

Despite himself, Aleksandar chuckled. “Take good care of them, Detective,” Aleksandar said, offering Brody his hand.

“You betchya,” Brody answered, taking the hand. He turned and left the house, sliding easily into the driver’s seat of the second unmarked car.

Brendon looked back as the car pulled away. Aleksandar stood at the door still, watching until the car vanished from sight.

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Aleksandar Svetoslav retreated into the house, closing the door and locking it. He spent a moment merely standing in the house. The massive space was suddenly lonely now that it stood empty save himself.

Outside, police stood guard at various points on the estate. But inside, inside was empty. There was no life left in the mansion, not even the pretence of it. Shaking his head, Aleksandar returned to the dining hall and began to pack everything away.

He moved slowly, in no hurry to be unoccupied. It also afforded him extra mind power to focus on other things; the various sounds and smells of the house. He would not be caught unaware.

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Alicia stared down at her hands as the car drove along. Her driver, a slender man she did not recognise, remained largely silent, grunting one word answers to her questions. She had gotten bored of the one-sided conversation, and so resorted to examining her hands.

When she looked up, the car was pulling over near an alleyway. She frowned. This was not the safe house. The driver slid from the car and opened her door.

“Ma’am,” the officer said.

“Pretty sure this is not where I’m supposed to be,” Alicia said.

The driver looked down the alley, then back at her. He leant down and peered at Alicia over the top of his large sunglasses.

Alicia caught sight of eyes blacker than pitch before the world went dark.

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Aleksandar paced in his study. Night was falling. Soon the police guards would be replaced by the Opyri that made up the private security firm Aleksandar had hired for his own protection. Hired was perhaps the wrong word. Anyone looking from the outside would have described it as a hiring. However, once the Opyri of House Svetoslav knew that their prince was being targeted, they leapt into action. Many had been keeping watch over the house before Aleksandar made a formal request for aid. Others had been relaying any information they deemed useful to their prince.

However, certain he was the target and that the vendetta was personal, Aleksandar had felt reticent drawing more of the House into the fight. Sforza Security, owned by Aleksandar but run by an Opyri by the name of Don, had insisted on guarding their prince. He did not have it in him to argue with Don, and in truth he felt better knowing that Don Sforza was watching over him. He had fought beside Don many times. The man knew what he was doing.

Still, if there was to be an attack, and if the attacker was Opyri as he suspected, it would happen soon. Trying to roll the tension out of his shoulders, Aleksandar paced the study until he could not bear the look of that room anymore. He patrolled the halls of the enormous empty mansion, keeping his eyes and ears open for anything unusual. Night fell as he stalked.

As he passed Brendon’s apartment, he stopped. Backing up two steps, Aleksandar stared into the room through the open door. Sitting on Brendon’s dining room table was the thin manila folder Brody had in his hands at the hospital.

Forgetting his anxiety a moment, Aleksandar entered the room and picked it up. Inside were the photos Aleksandar had been shown already, and one other—the remains of the murdered private investigator. Aleksandar stared down at the desiccated husk of a man and the two, closely set puncture wounds on his neck.

Aleksandar’s knees buckled slightly as the realisation hit him. Nosphoros. The puncture wounds were too closely set to be Opyri, and only the Nosphoros fed by draining their victims dry.

Nosphoros.

Aleksandar had not a chance in the world against one of the ancient ones; the first of the cursed. They were too strong, too fast. Even fighting at his peak, he would be destroyed.

And there was another thing the Nosphoros meant. The Shadow Council. It had been the Shadow Council all along.

Aleksandar closed his eyes briefly. He had to warn Alicia. He reached into his pocket for his phone and realised he had left it in the study. Swearing under his breath, he turned, the photo still in his hand, and sprinted for the study.

As he reached for his phone, it buzzed. A text message.

I have a surprise for you.

Aleksandar stared down at the phone. It buzzed. An incoming call from an unknown number. Bracing himself, Aleksandar answered.

“My lord,” a familiar voice said. “Are you seated? We have company.”

Rooted to the spot, Aleksandar continued to listen. Unsteady breathing answered his patience.

“Aleksandar?”

Aleksandar recognised the voice. Alicia.

“He was the driver,” Alicia whispered, her voice cracking with fear.

The words struck Aleksandar like a blow to his stomach. The driver. He had watched the Nosphoros take Alicia in the full light of day and had done nothing. The phone clicked. The call had ended. Aleksandar stared at the device in his hand, disbelieving everything he had heard and realised in the few short minutes he had been given. The phone buzzed. A new text message.

May I propose a trade?

Aleksandar remained rigid, staring down at the message as if he did not understand the words on the screen.

If the answer is yes, then you must set aside your phone and the tracking device you now wear. Come to the abandoned church on Susette Drive. You know the one. If you want your House to survive this night, come alone and tell no one. You have one hour before I make this beautiful butterfly my pet.

Very slowly, as if moving through a dream, Aleksandar lowered his arm. He stared at nothing for a moment before rousing himself into action. He put the photo he held onto his desk and, snatching a pen, he wrote the word ‘Nosphoros’ across the image. Unclipping the tracking device that had been snapped to his House ring, he laid it next to his phone.

He paused once more. This is how it would end. He knew full well the Nosphoros had no intention of letting Alicia go. He had to live only long enough to aid her escape. It was desperate, probably not going to work and would most certainly be his end. The demon who held the souls of all the Embraced would have another meal, and Aleksandar would be utterly destroyed. No chance at heaven, or hell, and no chance of redemption; only total and utter obliteration.

Steeling his nerve, Aleksandar turned. His gaze swept past the photo of Theodore Svetoslav, his sire and former Prince of the House. Theodore had been ushered into oblivion some hundred years ago. There would be no reunion in the afterlife. Theodore’s soul had undoubtedly been consumed.

Fighting back despair, Aleksandar left the study, closing the door. He would face his death with courage.

He was already out of the house when the phone buzzed to life once more.