She was right. She had the right to know. It was not just a matter of stolen items; it was about keeping Vee from a Vampire infested nightclub. Yet he could not tell Elizabeth the truth. The last mortal he had allowed knowledge of their world was dead because of it and he was not going to let that happen to either of the Bowens. Resting his chin in his hand, his eyes fell to the photograph. “I didn’t lie when I said I recognized the man in the photo. My run in last night after going to
The Veil
made me realized that these people – if you can call them that – are part of the same group that murdered Jeanie and …” He could not bring himself to say the rest, the pain choking off the words.
Elizabeth audibly sucked in a breath. The words left unsaid were written in the scars across his body. She pulled out the chair and sat, the anger blown away. “Mafia? They’re Mafia?”
He met her startled sky coloured eyes. “Organized, yes. Criminal, most definitely. Mafia, no.”
“How dangerous are they?”
“They make the Yakusa look like boy scouts,” he said quietly, returning his gaze to the abandoned dishes on the table.
“Who are they?” Fear filled Elizabeth’s voice. “And why steal the objects from the ROM?”
He shook his head, his long white locks brushing the table. “I won’t tell you. It’s safer that way, but they attacked the museum and stole my sword to get my attention and send me a message. It was not because of the relics.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, sending a wash of white swinging.
“What message?”
“That I’m not supposed to be here, that I broke an armistice by coming to North America.”
“But why?” she cried. “That makes no sense.”
“I wish I could tell you, but I can’t,” he sighed. “But I will say that there is a long standing feud between them and me, and no I won’t tell you about that either. Suffice it to say you already know too much.”
Elizabeth leaned across the table and took his injured hand in both of hers. “If they’re so dangerous why not let the police do their job? Why go there?”
He pointed to the man in the photograph. “He knew he was being caught on film. He knew the police would bring it to me. It’s a challenge, and one I have to accept because if the police go into the club none of them will come out alive.”
“That’s ludicrous! How can they—”
“They did it in France,” he said quietly. He remembered how Hugo, the Master of France, would not allow him to route the Vampires at first. Instead Hugo made an anonymous tip to the constabulary. The resulting massacre left Hugo deeply shaken and immediately called for the Angel.
“Jesus Christ,” swore Elizabeth. She pulled back, releasing his hand. “And what’s to stop them from killing you?”
He stood up, suddenly weary of all the white lies and explanations and offered a sad smile. “I’ve survived everything they’ve thrown at me. That alone makes them fear me.”
“Or want to kill you,” stated Elizabeth, bluntly, her eyes wide in horror.
“That too,” he remarked sadly.
He felt Elizabeth’s eyes on his back as he exited the kitchen for his room upstairs. There was a lot to do before he faced Vampires as a mortal.
T
hanatos awoke with a start, something that never happened, his heart filled with dread. Throwing off the down filled duvet and pulling the bed curtains apart he frowned at the ornately decorated room. Something was wrong. Godfrey should be there waiting to attend him, instead he was nowhere to be seen. Stepping down, Thanatos found his robe where he had left it over the footboard and put it on. He thought to call for his manservant but doubted that shouting would work. Slippers ensconced on his feet, Thanatos left his suite for the quiet dark halls of his mansion.
Everything was still, adding to Thanatos
’
growing anxiety. Normally his home felt warm and full of life. It was one of many reasons that he kept Godfrey and others like him over the ages. It also lightened up Thanatos
’
dreary existence, but not today. Frowning, he followed the hall runner down the stairs, sliding his hand along the dark polished wooden banister. He left it as he came to a rest at the base of the staircase. All was still and quiet.
His frown deepened, pulling dark brown brows together as he walked across the heated marble tiles to the large oak double front doors. Placing a hand on the ornamental wrought iron he pushed the handle down to find it would not budge. The door was locked. Unfortunately it did not answer the question as to Godfrey
’
s disappearance.
Thanatos dismissed the notion of going room to room and instead thought to search areas that were solely Godfrey’s domain. If Godfrey was not where he was supposed to be, then he would not be in areas of the house he had no need to be in.
A horrible thought halted Thanatos in his tracks.
What if Godfrey ran away?
He shook his head at the preposterous idea and continued on to the kitchen. If Godfrey was not there then the next place to look would be Godfrey
’
s quarters. Thanatos was formulating his next step when he opened the swinging doors and found his servant sitting at the small mahogany kitchen set, staring sadly into a mug. His wrinkled and haggard appearance, not to mention the short growth of new beard, indicated that his major-domo had not slept.
“
Godfrey?
”
queried Thanatos, gently.
At the sound of his name Godfrey
’
s head snapped up in surprise.
“
Oh sir, I
’
m so sorry—
”
He managed to stand, weaving on unsteady legs as Thanatos cut off his apology with a wave of his hand.
Pulling out the opposite chair, Thanatos sat and indicated Godfrey should resume his place.
How many years has it been since we sat like this?
mused Thanatos. An image of a blonde headed youth pouring over textbooks while Thanatos stood over and assisted Godfrey in the study of his university finals filled his mind. The boy he had taken off the street had grown into a brilliant young man who graduated University at the age when most were just entering.
“
You need not apologize, Godfrey,
”
said Thanatos.
“
You are forgiven. After all, you are only human. The only thing I require is an explanation, but be mindful that an explanation is not an excuse.
”
“
Yes, sir.
”
Abashed, Godfrey sat down, hanging his head, unwilling to look at his employer.
Over the next hour and a half Godfrey did exactly as ordered, going over every detail and answering every question until Thanatos nodded.
“
Thank you, Godfrey. I know this was difficult to do
–
to admit your failure in convincing the Angel to leave. Believe it or not I would have done the same as you.
”
“
Thank you, sir,
”
sighed Godfrey, his shoulders slumping in relief.
“
What do you wish me to do now, sir?
”
Thanatos stood and gently tucked his chair back into place.
“
Firstly, I expect you to clean yourself up
–
a day’s growth of beard does not suit
–
and, if you have not done so yet, I want you to eat something. Coffee is a beverage, not a meal, contrary to what most people believe. When you have properly composed yourself I wish you to meet me in the Parlour.
”
“
Yes, sir.
”
Godfrey stood, receiving his orders.
“
But what of yourself, sir?
”
The kitchen door halted its open swinging motion, Thanatos
’
hand holding it still as he turned back to his manservant.
“
I have taken care of myself long before we met, Godfrey. I
’
m sure I can manage for one night.
”
He turned and took a step out of the kitchen and realized what he had done and called back,
“
Before you jump into the shower I need you to call into the office and inform them I will not be coming in tonight. Make whatever excuses you deem fit.
”
“
Yes, sir,
”
said Godfrey, enthusiastically as he followed his master into the foyer.
“
What is the plan for tonight, sir?
”
Thanatos halted his first step to take him back to his suite and turned around.
“
I
’
m going to do what I should have done in the first place
–
I
’
m going to talk to the Angel.
”
“
No one
’
s answering.
”
Fernando placed the cordless phone back into its charging station and turned to face Bridget and Notus.
“
Are you sure that
’
s the right number?
”
Notus closed his eyes and nodded.
“
I
’
m sure.
”
Unable to sleep the day away in Fernando and Bridget
’
s guest room, in the same bed that the boy had been in, with the boy’s scent still permeating the bed clothes, Notus was exhausted. It was not so much the lack of sleep put rather the swirling thoughts mingling with guilt and anxiety that had him tossing and turning. He knew he had completely severed his relationship with the boy. It was necessary. What had been unexpected was the boy being awake to hear Notus break millennia old confidences. To be on the receiving end of the boy
’
s unleashed rage was heartbreaking, but understandable. What terrified the monk the most was hearing Fernando
’
s description of the mist the boy had unconsciously summoned.
It was always apparent that the boy was different. All one had to do was look, but Notus had never known the boy before his accidental Choosing. The evidences over the centuries only enhanced what he tried to ignore
–
the differences that marked the boy for Destruction by the Chosen also singled him out by mortals. Now to find out that these differences were still part of the boy shook the monk. Long buried questions of the boy
’
s true nature filtered up. Notus knew that both Fernando and Bridget were asking the same questions, expecting answers that Notus could not give.
“
That is Elizabeth
’
s telephone number,
”
stated Notus, quietly. He did not understand why the Master and Mistress of England could not let the boy go.