The Vampyre Legal Chronicles - Daniel: Book: 3 (5 page)

Dyunik monastery

The wind shrieked, gusts buffeted and
swirled as if trying to push the solid rock of Dyunik monastery down into the
eternal cavern below. The weather was never still up here, even in summer. Since
winter often held all who lived within in a clenched and icy fist, no one was
surprised the blizzard had roared for six long days and nights.

In the highest tower of an edifice built on the edge of a
cliff high in the mountains of the Northern Caucasus, the head of The Order sat
behind a huge desk made of tempered glass that wouldn't have looked out of
place in a science fiction movie. Vassili's fingers flew over the virtual
keyboard. He might believe in the old ways, when it suited his purposes, but he
was also wise enough to fully embrace technology.

Due to his own impatience, he had lost the support of the
vampyre council. He accepted the fact, accepted too that he'd made a rare error
in judgement to trust in Precedential Elder Damasio Casta's savage hatred of
magic for his support. When push came to shove, Damasio would always side with
the others of his kind, the Elders.

However, there was one loss Vassili was unwilling to
accept... Charlotte Gillespie. She was a witch. A pregnant witch, which meant
the odds of her child inheriting the trait were high. Two for the price of one.
The fact she was with child meant the use of force to seize her was impossible.
However, there were other means. Namely, drugs.

"You have the Vox?" he asked his top research
medic, who was the only one involved in his plan. It paid to keep the details
of his more... irredeemable activities among a carefully selected few.

The other man nodded at Vassili's reference to a drug
outlawed by the vampyre council for thirty years; a drug that, until his
researchers had significantly modified the blueprint, turned a vampyre into a weapon.
"The dose is diluted." The vampyre hesitated, a rare show of
weakness. When Vassili's brows rose in silent question, he stuttered, "My
Lord, I believe we may have stumbled upon a vaccine for the Ebola influenza
virus."

Vassili's eyes narrowed into black slits. "And who gave
you
permission to research the virus?"

"Constantine Mabille reached out to us. We could hardly
refuse," he blurted out the last part.

Hmm, he knew Constantine was asking for help from research
centres throughout the world, but this time the Precedential Elder was
overstepping his bounds, again. Any requests of his researchers should have
come through
him
.

Vassili didn't hesitate.

"Let them perish."

The vampyre blinked, but simply nodded once in agreement.

Vassili's dark eyes studied his assistant's pale face
carefully. He wouldn't have tagged him as a vampyre overly concerned with the
plight of humanity. If everything went to plan and humans no longer ruled the
world, the Order would need to stand firm with no weak links. His assistant
would need careful watching.

"You are sure Vox will not harm the unborn child?"

"Yes. I tested three pregnant subjects. They slept for
six hours and awoke with only a slight headache due to dehydration."

Any risk to Charlotte Gillespie and her child was unacceptable.

"Dehydration is dangerous to a pregnant female,"
he snapped.

"We will give her fluids intravenously. She will be
fine."

"Good," said Vassili. "Make sure to inform me
of the moment she arrives in New York," he added in dismissal and received
a single nod in response.

Excellent.

It might take significant plotting and time, but Vassili had
a plan.

He would have his witch, and he would have her soon.

 Once Daniel recognized Gia was deep in
paradoxical sleep he glided, an inch above the carpet, across the room to stand
over her.

The rapid eye movements and agitated little breaths told him
the girl might be sound asleep, but she was very far from sleeping peacefully.

He kept one eye on her as he counted the cash, two thousand
dollars. A nice tidy little sum. And how had she come by it? Rifling through
her purse, it didn’t bother him one iota that he was invading her privacy. After
all she was lying asleep on
his
couch in
his
apartment.

He found the business card to a taxi company with a
handwritten note of a cell phone number on the back.

Bringing the card to his nose he inhaled and his vampyre
stirred. Caribbean food, the scent of it brought back long forgotten memories
of another time, of swashbuckling pirates and rum. Emotions have a scent and
that was something vampyres and animals understood, but not humans. He could
smell anxiety and... not worry, no... but alarm and ever present fear.

He frowned.

Interesting.

Dressed in loose pyjama bottoms of thin white cotton, he
moved to the open plan kitchen area, slid open floor to ceiling doors.

Without a whisper of sound two of his Centuri protection
officers landed, bowed deep.

He gave one the card.

"Find Jeremiah Rutherford," he instructed. Even
though his voice was soft, it held an ingrained authority. "I want to know
where he picked her up and when."

Vampyres had a way of extracting information from humans
without damaging their fragile memory function.

Handy.

While he and his brothers had been dealing with trouble in
San Francisco, his Centuri had alerted Daniel to the surprising news his
personal assistant was sleeping in his apartment. On explicit instructions from
him they’d been told to leave Gia well alone. Now, he wished he’d asked them to
tail her, but he’d been distracted by events in San Francisco. For the moment,
the immediate danger to his brother and his wife might have passed, but the
whole Gillespie clan was on a heightened state of alert, just waiting for their
enemy's next move.

The sound of Gia whimpering with horrible little cries
trapped in her throat had him flash to her side in an instant.

Imprisoned in a nightmare, she was curled up in a tight ball
with her head tucked behind her arms. A classic self-defence pose that made him
tilt his head in an attempt to read her dream. In sleep her mental defences
were weak. Her fists were bunched in front of her face and the way her body
jerked as if being struck snapped his brows together and his vampyre rose.

Taking great care, Daniel's mind reached into hers.

His brow creased as he found flickering echoes of chaos,
confusion and a deep psychological wound.

Someone had hurt her.

Had hurt her badly.

Her husband?

A low growl rumbled in his chest and he stood absolutely still
as Gia stirred.

He knew the only way for him to get a clear picture of her
thoughts was to take her vein, to begin the journey to bring her fully into his
world. But then as he well knew, to do such a thing (and against her will) was
not straightforward. Like his brothers he’d never fed from a human being. Plus,
to complete the bond it was crucial she took his vein, too, even if to do so
might put Gia's life at great risk. His brothers had almost lost their wives
during their transition from human to vampyre. However, it appeared Daniel's
vampyre didn't agree by the way his fangs now eased out through his gums. Causing
Gia pain in any way was the one thing that held him back. How could he ever hurt
the woman he adored?

His mind moved deeper into hers.

Abruptly, without warning, a tsunami of emotion overwhelmed
his psyche and almost brought him to his knees. He had no time to defend his mind
as a flash of such deep despair from the woman sleeping on his couch twisted
his heart, his gut.

Blood froze in his own veins as he saw... felt... fists
raining again and again into the tender flesh of her stomach, her ribs and
agonisingly in the small of her back.

And then another flash of emotion from her nearly toppled
him to the floor.

A heartfelt wish for it all to end in... death?

Suicide?

In his mind his vampyre roared in utter fury.

How the hell had he missed the signs of domestic abuse?

His heart going crazy in his chest, Daniel didn’t stop to
think about her right to free will or anything else. All he could think was to
keep his woman safe.

With Gia still wrapped in the warm comforter he lifted her,
and strode through the apartment to his bedroom. He pulled down the Egyptian
cotton sheet, placed her in his bed, slid in beside her and held her back tight
against his front. How would he ever forgive himself for missing the signs of how
much she'd suffered?

His head now throbbed with what he realized was
her
headache.

Her scalp felt too tight.

Lifting a hand that trembled from experiencing her emotions,
he released her hair-tie to gather the scented river of her glossy hair in his
fist and inhaled.

Christ, her hair almost reached to her waist.

Faerie hair
, was all he could think as he buried his
face in the glory of it.

"Hush now, my wee darling," he crooned softly into
her small ear. His erection ached as it filled with the blood of need and he
carefully eased his pelvis from the curve of her tight backside. He closed his
eyes as he inhaled her scent, as he rested his cheek on the top of her head and
as he rubbed against the silky softness of slippery hair. And he made an oath
that while there was breath in his lungs no one would ever lift a finger to hurt
her and that included his vampyre roaring like a lion in his head to take her
vein,
now
.

Instead, Daniel sent a telepathic sedative into her mind to
help her relax, to calm and soothe his woman.

"Tha achan rud go maith."
All is well.

***

"Right then, my wee darlin’. Give
it your best shot. Don't hold anything back," said Marcus in a tone he
knew would annoy Anais.

Sure enough, his wife's almond shaped eyes narrowed into
slits as they held his.

They were in the enormous basement of the headquarters of
Gillespie, Pattullo and Hindmarch in New York. A space which held the Centuri
warrior training centre. And both Marcus and Anais were dressed for combat. He
wore black cotton pants, tied low on his hips. She wore black yoga pants and a sleeveless
matching vest. Her inky hair tied back from her face.

He bent his knees to crouch into the fighting position,
wiggled his fingers in a
'come on'
gesture.

Anais Gillespie simply folded her arms and took her time to
admire a naked torso, a long and lean body blessed by the universe.

Man, her man was
ripped
.

Now he bit down hard on his bottom lip, his blue eyes
sparkling with amusement. He rolled his eyes as hers examined a six-pack and
rock hard abs.

"Now then, you stop looking at me like that or we won't
get any work done tonight."

Her dark eyes dropped to between his legs and just like that
he went as hard as a rock.

His loud sigh was heartfelt and made Anais grin.

She'd need to use all the tools at her disposal to get out
of this fight in once piece.

Since she'd drop-kicked him last week, her husband treated
her with a helluva lot more respect on the fighting mat these days. She knew
the only way she'd win was to be tricky and toss out the rule book. The point
was that it didn't matter how hard a person kicked a vampyre, they never stayed
down, not for long.

"My heart's not in it to spar with you tonight,"
she said, lying through her teeth.

He grinned, a flash of super-white fangs, showcasing the dimples
that always made her heart melt.

Now he sent her a lewd wink.

"More of a lover not a fighter, eh?"

"Something like that."

But she dropped into a crouch.

Eyes locked, they circled each other.

Every now and then he made a lunge, but she was fast. Very
fast. Her vampyre was emerging, becoming stronger each and every day. Since she
delighted in keeping her husband on his toes, it was a fact she was happy to
keep to herself. And now Marcus was testing, teasing, her defences. No way was
she going to tip her hand. So she almost let him catch her, once, twice, and
then a third time.

Now his blue eyes narrowed as he twisted fast.

But she leapt over the sweeping leg, pure instinct now
ruling as she read his body language.

It occurred to her he was signalling his moves and now she
wondered why.

The thought had no more gone through her mind when she found
herself flat on her back under a wickedly grinning vampyre. The breath had
caught in her lungs as her eyes stared up into the vivid blue of his.

Her heart was battering too fast against her ribs as arousal
flooded her system.

God, he was so beautiful.

She licked her lips.

And right away his eyes dropped to her mouth.

He had her arms and legs pinned to the mat.

No way could she escape.

But neither could she let him win.

He was used to winning, was Marcus.

Too used to it.

It was time someone spanked his arse.

It was time for her to bring out the big guns.

For a moment she closed her eyes and took deep breaths to
steady her heart and centre her mind.

When she opened them again, her bottom lip trembled.

He frowned before his eyes flew to hers and went wide.

Her eyes filled as her bottom lip trembled again.

Slowly, so slowly, a single tear escaped and ran into her
hairline.

Abruptly, he released her.

"Did I hurt..."

That was all he said before Marcus felt a knee in his groin
and he was flying through the air to land hard on his back as the air whooshed
from his lungs. He'd landed heavily and swore he could hear birds tweeting
around his head. The hurt between his legs ached so bad he wanted to whine out
loud. The sound of bare feet padding across the mat had him turn his head to
find his Centuri commander, Ian Macpherson, standing over him with his hands on
his hips.

"Got you again, did she?"

Ian reached out a hand to help him up.

"Fuck." Marcus bent from the waist, hands on his
knees, to catch his breath and to will his dick to stop throbbing like a bitch.

This made it twice in one week the love of his life had
caught him in a trap using her female wiles. But why did she need to bust his
balls to do it? He turned his head to find his wife doing a joyous little
victory dance, and he couldn't help but shake his head.

"You
devil
," he said with feeling.

"Suckah," came the smart-ass response as she did a
bum boogie.

"You cried,
real
tears." Marcus couldn't
believe he'd fallen for it.

Ian turned to look at Anais over his shoulder.

"Nice move, princess."

"He looooooooves me, loves, loves, loves meeeeee,"
she sang in a high voice that made Ian grin.

And the hell of it was, his wife was dead right, Marcus
thought now.

He did love her.

The thought of upsetting her, making her cry, had fucking
killed
him.

Unfortunately, the scene was attracting an audience of his
Centuri warriors, who were watching it unfold with unconcealed interest.

"You're gonna pay for that," he warned her in a
low growl.

Then his jaw and Ian's jaw dropped.

Anais moved so fast it made him blink as she scurried up the
side of the wall to the ceiling and held on tight with the vampyre claws on her
hands and feet. Clouds of cement and dust floated to the floor.

Bloody hell.

The drop was about fifty feet.

"Get the hell down from there," he yelled, his
voice echoing like thunder in the huge space, visions of her landing too hard
and doing herself real damage now crowded his mind. It was true that vampyres
healed fast, but the pain they felt when injured was all too real.

"No."

No?

She was defying him and disrespecting him?

In front of his Centuri?

"Anais," he warned as fear warred with bitter frustration
in his chest. "Do not test me, woman."

"I've never seen anything like it," muttered Ian
under his breath.

"And you won't see anything like it again, once I get
her down from there."

"Look at her, Marcus. She's evolving. Look at the
tendons on her arms, her calves, as they run into the bones of her hands and
feet. Look at the strength. Amazing."

Marcus simply growled in response as he watched his wife
swinging on electric light fittings as if they were a trapeze. Fucking hell, at
this rate she'd end up electrocuting herself.

 While his heart was in his mouth,
she
was showing
off.

She looked down and beamed into his furious face.

"Catch," she cried and let go.

Time for Marcus stood utterly still as he moved like a
speeding bullet to catch her.

The impact when she hit him brought both to the mat.

Again the breath was knocked from his lungs as he held her
tight and buried his face in her neck to simply inhale her, the love of his
life. And once he got his breath back, he was going to strangle her for scaring
the life out of him. In a minute.

"Wow," she gasped in his ear. Her newborn fangs nipped
his lobe and he went rock hard. "What a rush!" Two heartbeats then,
"Ow!"

He didn't hold back as he spanked her tight little ass once,
twice.