Guildhall Guardian: Thamesian #1 (Thamesians) (10 page)

Brand was a man of the City, not him.  Behind the scenes of human entertainment he could provide only so much leads about supernatural bounty hunters.

He also had one concern, if Hendry could exit his grave without triggering the detectors, he needed a better security equipment. Someone like Camden Deemer could be his downfall if he let himself go lazy.

On the phone Brand had stated "When I sent you the names, I knew you would obsess over Deemer again, what is it with the two of you acting like two movies villain archenemies?"

  "Let's rather speak about your mistress: rising editor of the year, deadly witch, Ms. Perdue? She is at the top of your list, that's cute."

  "She is not my girlfriend Roydon, no commitment between us. And I don't mind her being a huntress, it makes her super kinky."

Roydon had said "Fine. Careful Brand, it would be a shame to get yourself killed over some kind of witchy sexplay."

*

  Living at Roydon's had one clear advantage. Closer to work despite the fact that it was also extremely closer to vampires' graves. I couldn't wait to know what he had found out.

Somewhere a clock was ticking over us and surely it was not going to be pretty.

The kind of people who shoot arrows as a kind warning were not to be messed with. All the more fun to mess with them.

I went straight to the butler, Blacksmith, how confusing was his name, really? Make up your mind dude, you're either a butler or a blacksmith. So not doing this joke in front of Roydon!

  "Do you have a kitchen around here, please?" I asked.

Granted the Guilhall was a public building and had many annexes and exhibitions rooms but if Roydon wanted me not to snoop he could have at least have shown me around.

"Just follow me to the eat-in kitchen, Ma'am" Blacksmith said.

Small kitchen with white walls, a wood-burning stove and a giant fridge.  Blacksmith gestured to a door, "this is the cellar and you have the walled garden."

When left alone, I went to take a look at the garden. It was kinda neglected. Some potted plants survived however. Against the wall I found three pots of herbs I did not recognize, with the labels 'Roydon', 'Brand', 'Benedict'. 

*

    "Your human guest is in the kitchen, Sir." said Blacksmith, betraying nothing of his personal opinion on the matter.

Roydon shut his laptop closed.  So Gangsta Gioia was on a rampage for some food.  He only hoped she wouldn't come up with the bad idea of drinking a Stonehenge.

The image did things to his body. The strong drink would make her wanton and unrestrained. 
Super kinky
. Roydon shook off the idea. 

  "The gallery is being prepared for tonight, Sir.  Your presence will be requested to set the event going at ten."

   "Yes, indeed. The music and art performance from this new band, what's its name?"

   " The Paranormal Disembodied, Sir."

Roydon smiled.  Ah, music folks who paid to make the most of the Guildhall's weird inspirational vibes. Better them than tourists.  He needed the money and the exposure.

Some entertainment for Gioia, tonight. Not bad for an old hybrid like him.  

*

  For a supernatural lair, the Guildhall was incredibly homely to me. Once you got past the first impressions of haunted museum, that is. 

I was back in my room when I heard the echo of music coming up from the ground floor. Sounded like piano and something other.  And sounded very good from what I could hear. 

Knock, knock.

Roydon. Wow he was cleanly shaven and in all black suit. Looking very polished here. Only a tiny bit of scruff left. Too bad.

  "Is our gangsta  in the mood for some socializing tonight?" he asked.

  "You mean, getting to talk to humans, like me?" I teased.

  "Some humans yes. Like you, I don't think we can wish for that Ms. Di Terzi.

Or else they would be off to search the Guildhall and dismantle all my secrets in no time. "

  "What's the occasion?"

  "An Art happening. Very modern stuff which helps me sustaining my lifestyle. I'm appalled you don't follow The Guildhall on facebook or twitter. You missed something important here." He said with a fake air of scolding.

"Haha. Is that all? A show? What about a secret meeting with your brothers?"

"Not scheduled."

So he truly had two brothers, their name being Brand and Benedict. Fascinating.

He stood there, so carelessly handsome, his hands in his pockets, I felt the air thicken between us.

"The unscheduled seems to happen a lot more lately."

His amber eyes narrowed down on me and my face was on fire. My legs giving in.

"Does it?"

He stepped closer.  His beautiful mouth was distracting me.  The bizarre and stupendous angles of his face disrupting me. The light swagger and posh attitude electrifying me. 

I leaned into the inevitable pull.  He cupped my face.  He could be so tender/cold, switching the attraction on and off, it made me go crazy. Raw. Shy yet bold.

My lips instantaneously parted under the hard pressure of his mouth.

It was only a rollercoaster of sensations.

Nothing else.

It stopped almost as soon as it had started, leaving me scorched and robbed of any argument.

  "Gioia, I will see you at ten in the gallery."

His hand brushed against my neck, in a final, lingering gesture.

*

  He was bloody playing through and through. Playing with his own limitations.  Playing up the attraction. Downplaying the risks.

Gioia outed him from his usual comfort zone.  To be closer to her he acted out of character and out of the his personal sense of propierty.

She was addictive.

*

  This was so cool! I had listened while the band rehearsed one last time in the back of the gallery. Who knew Roydon Thamesian was also a backer of indie music?

For my evening wear, I kept it simple: black jeans, white jumper, black eyeliner, hair down. 

It was exactly what I was craving for, some nice music and letting loose a little from the perspective of living abroad alone. While I was with my ex-boyfriend, we rarely went out together to party, he was often into extreme working mode, and the last time we attended a party together, well was the last stroke to our flailing relationship, wasn't it?

But tonight I was ready to rock it!

Roydon was there when I withdrawn my attention from the boy and girl duet so  accurately called the Paranormal Disembodied.

The music tingled in all the right places, and I choked at the sight of Roydon Thamesian slowly finding a way to me through his guests. He had lost the tie and stood there like a dude who is oblivious of how super sexy he is.

  "The security is at its highest level tonight" he whispered in my ear "I had to double-check all the guests."

  "There is something I wanted to know..."

   "As often, Ms. Di Terzi."

  "If the Guildhall belongs to you, who do keep the pretense of it being a public building? I mean, does anyone ever check on this things?"

  "I have an official lease with the British gov and as I indeed outlast every duration of a government, I take advantage of this breach to make it everlasting."

Of course. Must be convenient for the taxes too.

   The art exhibition which came along with the gig was contemporary and of no interest to me.  I observed the guests. Could it be that someone among them was the attacker?

Most seemed human. Young arty people and some towny officials. But there again, nothing was what it seemed in the Medieval Quarter.

I chuckled at the sight of a woman trying to chat up Tennys while he had to remain in indifferent bodyguard mode.

The stage was beautifully made up, covered with fake charcoal and pearls of sand dust which gleamed under the spotlights.

  "Hi guys, we are The Paranormal Disembodied, here with four brand new songs for you.  Thank you for joining us in The Guildhall tonight."

All of this was looking too normal to be normal.  What was I missing?

Roydon came back and leaned, perfectly contained and businesslike "Put your mind to rest for tonight, Gioia. I can't imagine what it's like in your scoundrel head, must be ringing with schemes which makes you so galvanised."

I objected "I'm not always all over the place like that. I can be quite subdued, thanks."

Roydon catlike eyes got me feeling bare.

  "The taming of Gangsta Gioia? I can't imagine."

I shivered.  The music started again and the girl began singing.  It was a strange kind of synthpop with peaks of drum and bass. I definitely liked it.

"What about the auction?"

Roydon draw me toward the stage, until I was right under the band's nose.

  "Hush, Ms. Di Terzi. Sometimes you just have to listen."

*

  Was it really him, Roydon Thamesian, Guildhall's guardian and master, acting like a teenage boyfriend?

He had this nagging voice in his head, which mainly assumed Brand's blasé voice which mocked him for his soppiness.

He embraced Gioia, drowning his face in the lush mass of her blond hair.  He didn't care about the guests.

Roydon wanted a rest before the next outbreak of memory, the effects of Stonehenge, the constant state of urgency. Just one moment of lull amidst the underworld's mayhem.

*

  After the fourth song ended, Roydon went to greet the band, his lean, feline body hopping on the stage.

  "Where are you from guys?" he asked.

  "Birmingham." said the boy.

Roydon nodded appreciatively "Nice work. If you want to make it in London I can give a recommandation to my brother in Soho, he'll help you get some gigs."

The two musicians beamed. "Whoa. Thanks,Roy man."

I gave Roydon a sideway glance "Should I call you RAD Roy?" I said.

  "Now that the I've done an appearance, let's find out."

He grabbed my hand and stole my away from the gallery.

Guess the party was over.  The hunt had resumed, which was so much better!

We dashed back to the Guildhall and Roydon took my to his real den, his office.

  "Did you hack it then?" I asked eagerly.

  "No" said Roydon, smiling "I don't hack Ms. Di Terzi. But I have this."

The webpage was almost the same as before. Blink and you would have missed it.

A username button had appeared in the left corner below the countdown.

  "That's how they communicate about the auction. It has been secured by encrypting the access."

I frowned. "We need a username and a password. How can we get that?"

  "I don't think we can fake our way into this. The auction certainly operates through a secret weblisting. " he said ruffling his hair.

"The only way is to find who has organised the sale,if their is an art dealer behind it, a catalog and an auctioneer. If only there was a clue."

Roydon put something in my hand.

A card. I knew this card.

  "I have seen this, one morning before the pub."

  "This card is using the old underworld code. It's a challenge."

  "So there is a new vampire in the mix."

  "New rarely applies to vampires. All that I'm sure of is that a hunter is after me. After my graves."

"But why play it complicated like that?" I asked.

Roydon drew a cigarette from his pocket. This was the first time I saw him smoke.

Add to that his slightly tousled hair and black suit, he was killing it. Me.

*

  Roydon rarely smoked, and when he did, he was not entirely familiar with the too human stance.  Yet this time he found the relief welcome.

He was jeopardized by a faceless attacker. Could he imperil the Guild like that by being to indecisive? Waiting was one of his strengths.  Killing in cold-blood if necessary, an habit.  Now he couldn't do any of this.  He didn"t like being forced into a game. Roydon Thamesian was not acting on impulse, he had centuries of self-restraint; this before he met Gioia.

His eyes flickered over the curves of her waist and hips in her tight skinny jeans. 

The hard resolve in her blue eyes.  She liked the action this one.

She seemed far from the girl he had to kiss to prevent a full-blown panic attack.

Maybe he should get himself pierced with a dozen arrows in order to get her into his bed.  He ought not allow his fantasies to misdirect him.

   "That's a gigantic plan for a hunter. Undeworld's robbery on a large scale."

   "Hunter?" Gioia asked.

   "Often humans with an awareness of the supernatural who trained themselves as mercenaries. Some of them are hybrids as well. All those I encountered experienced an unusual upbringing which has lead them to become killers."

   "So why not just slay you,take your vampires and it's done. "

   "Easiness breeds boredom. Cue the messing with us."

Gioia yawned.  "Let me just sleep on it."

Roydon purposely distanced himself.  One goodnight embrace and he would be undone.

  "Go to bed, Ms. Di Terzi." he said unfeelingly.

*

   Wow. Was this man a bloody Brit icicle all at once. After the gig and the lightness of this evening, the almost animal tenderness of his hugging, Roydon just let me slip into freezy water. I was lost with the Guardian's mixed signals.

So off to sleep was the better alternative.

I let my eyes feast on his hotness with the acute and now familiar regretful pang of frustration safely crushed in my chest.

  "Thanks for tonight, Mr Thamesian."

Why did I feel so dismissed? One must always know to take a leave gracefully, but fuck, I wanted more.

  I hadn't been drinking that night, so believe me or not, I lost my way back to my room.  The Guildhall is not entirely at fault, but still, with all its corridors, cupboards, spiralling staircases, doors locked and unlocked, confusion is on every threshold.

What was the saying already? Not All of those who wander are lost. Yet all who are lost, wander. 

And some surely wandered better than I did.

I ended up in aiming toward the lower part of the Guildhall and the least lighted. Glass cases, craft from the Middle Ages, a spinning wheel, a scythe. Another scary corner of the Guildhall, what a surprise!

Should have paid more attention to what was happening in the background.

  "Donna move." said a feminine voice with a very thick accent.

She had sneakily crept behind my back,held me by the neck and I didn't want to test her willingness to snap my neck.

  "What do you want?" I asked.

  "Get me to Thamesian. Make it quick."

Well, the Guardian was a sought after vampire these days.

What could help me best to conjure up a way back in this maze than a unknown psycho burglar ready to kill me off? I tried not to stagger while climbing up the stairs again. Nerves, Gioia, nerves. 

  "You're late to the party. It was over an hour ago."

  "Shut up." the woman said.

Very pleasant. I should have followed my impulse and refused to leave Roydon. Look where it got me to play it cool!

I would have a word with Roydon about all his security system.  Whoever sold it to him was a damn fraud.  And where's the bodyguard when you needed him the most?

Ah, crazy nights and days, or in my case : crazy nights and crazier nights...

*

  Roydon looked at the empty Stonehenge bottle. The black and gold label infuriated him. This chemical liquor was the devil's drink. It made him...
nervous
and unstable.

What was the point of being an immortal anymore?

He had emailed Benedict, asking him for help to find some supply. After all, the vinter Saor was Scottish if it delivered all across the UK.  He realized only now he had never paid enough attention to what really mattered in their world. Therefore he was left with too many weaknesses.

Benedict had answered with one word "Certainly."

Him and Brand couldn"t be more different. While one was a sullen socialite, the other remained a pure academic.

Hell, the manufactured Stonehenge made him sentimental.

His heartbeat raced.  He had a fantasy image of himself drinking blood.  How was it possible? He didn't even have the fangs to sustain it. 

He heard the two of them approach before they entered the room.

Roydon rushed to them. 

A woman, tall, gaunt. Leather shoes. Scars on knuckles and face discoloured. Guns under her coat. Huntress.

  "Let her go'' he said.

The woman's breathing was imperceptible. She was as calm as dead.  Human, though. A Tibetan pendant around her neck.  An oriental apprenticeship, probably martial arts.