The Vampyre Legal Chronicles - James (10 page)

Minutes later all the Gillespie vampyres along with Saira Pattullo stood in the rubble of the wreckage that had been James and Charlotte’s home.

And Charlotte found it somehow fitting to be standing on the physical manifestation of what had become of her life.

Saira strode up to her as Centuri, hundreds of them, landed from the sky.

Charlotte couldn’t help it, her eyes went huge as she studied the massive leather clad vampyre warriors.

But then the temperature in the air plunged like a stone as hundreds of Ezekiel's Legion landed, too and drew vast swords.

As one, the Centuri unsheathed the steel of their weapons and went into defensive positions.

"I wondered where those bastards were hiding," Saira muttered.

Within the confines of her husband’s strong arms, Charlotte couldn’t control her shudder.

"What are they?" she wanted to know.

"Warriors of our Centuri and Ezekiel's Legionnaires," he said and held her even tighter.

"Are they going to fight?" If they were, Charlotte wasn't sure she wanted to see a running battle.

Saira shook her head. "Not this morning they’re not. We need to find Ezekiel. Can you sense him, Charlotte?"

The thought of the big vampyre lying injured and helpless, his life fading away after everything he’d done for her, had duty overcome a crippling fear.

Charlotte closed her eyes and sent out a call.

'Ezekiel? We are here.'

Every Legionnaire’s head jerked towards Charlotte as they heard her voice calling their leader.

"Jesus, they can hear her," James whispered and pulled her even closer.

In a protective move, he placed his big body between his wife and Ezekiel’s Legion.

'Help me, Charlotte.'

Charlotte eased out of his arms and walked carefully to the side of the house where her kitchen had once been.

She pointed.

"He’s here."

Legionnaires at once began to remove bricks and rubble so fast Charlotte’s eyes refused to believe what she was seeing.

A Legionnaire commander stepped towards her and immediately James and his brothers placed themselves between her and him.

Charlotte dared a peek round the bulk of her husband to stare at the creature who was looking at her with something like disbelief in his strange eyes. Eyes the color of a blood-orange.

The Legionnaire was a towering giant.

Dressed in leathers the color of claret, his hair was streaked with grey and his eyes were mere slits as they stared into hers.

The connection in her mind was instant.

‘I will not harm you, little witch. How has it come to pass that you are mated to a fiend?’

Witch?

Charlotte’s chin jerked up in a way that made the big Legionnaire’s mouth curve.

Not with derision, but with an amusement that had a little of the tension in her belly ease away.

'Have a care," she warned. "What is your name?'

His leather’s creaked as he bowed low.

'I am Nathan. Commander in Chief of my master’s Legion.'

'How do you do, Nathan. I am Charlotte Gillespie and I am a...'"
she took a shuddering breath as she accepted a hard truth.
'A vampyre and... a witch.'

'My master speaks to you. How is this?'

James turned to her and lifted a finger to her in warning.

Now he turned to the Legionnaire and stepped forward.

"We'll have no witchcraft here. If you speak to my wife use your tongue, abomination."

At that, Charlotte jolted and shoved him away.

"Am I an abomination, too?"

She quite clearly heard James mutter under his breath, "Fuck."

The Legionnaire grinned quite openly now and Marcus growled a warning.

What might have happened next, Charlotte never knew because a shout of agony in her mind told her they’d found Ezekiel.

Ignoring her husband’s yell of absolute fury, she plunged towards the members of his Legion who were about to move him, with Saira Pattullo and Centuri hot on her heels.

She stopped dead.

She didn’t need to touch him, a mix of pity and dismay rose in heart.

Charlotte could see Ezekiel was horribly injured.

He looked as if a blade had slashed his torso from hip to hip. Only the leather armour was keeping his innards in place. His leg was sliced cleanly through his leathers right to the bone from hip to knee.

"Do not touch him," she ordered in a tone that stopped everyone in their tracks.

Dropping to her knees next to the wounded man, she flashed James a warning look as he made to grab her. "I'm a nurse. This is what I do."

Her gaze took in how much weight Ezekiel had lost and studied a lean face grey with torment.

"What do you need from me?" she asked him.

‘Feed me,’
he begged, his response was no more than a breath in her mind.

Confused, she blinked.

She had no food with her.

She cocked her head and her enquiring eyes met Nathan’s.

"You need to give him your blood," he told her.

James’s howl of anguish nearly made her jump out of her skin.

Obviously giving her blood to a vampyre was a no-no.

Too bad.

Ignoring the ice pooling in her belly, she refused to let terror rule her.

"How do I do that?"

Now her own vampyre spoke in her mind.
'I can help. Let me do it.'

Charlotte’s vampyre rose. Her fangs dropped from her gums and she ignored the shocked collective gasp of Centuri and Legion alike.

What the hell was their big deal?

She didn’t have time to worry about it since her intuition was screaming that Ezekiel was fast running out of time.

Her fangs bit into her wrist as she held the wound to his mouth, but her blood simply ran across his lips leaching into the earth.

Nathan immediately knelt and took his master’s head and forced his mouth open.

Charlotte’s blood dribbled into Ezekiel's mouth as Nathan massaged his neck forcing him to swallow.

'Thank you. I require your special brand of... magic,'
Ezekiel spoke in her mind.

She pressed her wrist to his mouth.

But couldn’t suppress a wince as his fangs sank into her vein.

‘Who did this to you?’ she asked.

Never in a million years could she have imagined the answer to her question.

'Demons.'

Stunned, Charlotte's mind still was a bit shaky as she absorbed the disorienting fact that she was not only a witch and a vampyre, but now there were demons, too?

Terror again sought to rise to rule again in her mind, but Charlotte battled to force it back and to concentrate and focus her efforts on her patient.

And all the while James was cursing long and loud in the background.

Her husband sounded demented but she didn’t have the time or the inclination to soothe him.

Then Ezekiel released her.

His tongue sealed the wound.

'That is enough. Tell Saira I need her vein.'

The world spun as Charlotte’s vampyre released her.

She rose on legs that weren’t quite steady and James caught her to him.

Her husband was trembling in a way that made her wrap her arms around him and hold on tight.

Every vampyre, Centuri and Legionnaire, stood perfectly still as her gaze found Saira’s.

"He needs your vein."

The flash of pained anguish on the medic’s face had Charlotte stare hard at her.

But Saira nodded and dug her fangs into her wrist.

This time a collective gasp rose from the Centuri as she knelt and placed her bloody flesh to the mouth of the witch. It appeared Saira had broken a rule, too.

And as he drank, Charlotte couldn’t believe what her eyes were seeing.

Ezekiel's wounds slowly began to knit from the inside, to heal.

It was all too much.

For the first time in her life Charlotte Gillespie fainted.

New York

James hadn't wanted to travel with his brothers to New York; hadn't wanted to leave his sick wife in the vampyre hospital deep underground in San Francisco, but when his father issued a Juristic summons, what choice did he have?

Now he was seated in the boardroom of Gillespie, Pattullo and Hindmarch. He didn't like the leaden feeling in his gut as he watched the faces on the myriad of flat screens on the wall. The Pattullo vampyres, led by Cristophe, were in Rome, every Italian face set hard as stone. Led by Samuel, the Hindmarch vampyres were based in London, their eyes cold as ice. Also in Rome sat the seven Precedential Elders including the Asian Damasio Casta and Constantine Mabille, two of the most powerful leaders of the vampyre nation. He shuddered when he saw who else was at the meeting. Dressed in religious garb that forcibly reminded him of monks, Vassili and Voltaire watched like two beady-eyed black crows ready to pick at the bones of the fallen. Christ, he hated priests of the Order. They did nothing but spread lies, rumour and dissent. Who the hell had invited them to a Juristic summons?

Dressed in a slick grey suit with a pristine shirt of white cotton and a conservative tie of the finest silk, Constantine leaned forward in his chair as he studied the Gillespie vampyres. James thought he looked like an action hero movie star with his inky black hair, strong jaw, sharp good looks.

Constantine turned to look at James.

Pale blue eyes seemed to look right through him. "James, how is Charlotte?"

"Through the worst of it. She's doing well," he said, keeping the comments to mere platitudes. No point in saying too much about his wife's supposed magical ability until he and his family got a handle on it.

Cristophe cleared his throat, the Italian's eyes like slits. "James, I wish to express my deep regret at what Eleanor has done to you and your family. My daughter has brought shame to our house, our..."

James held up his hand. "Saira saved Charlotte's life again and again. Take pride that the swift action of your daughter means my wife lives."

Cristophe took a breath, nodded.

"
Grazie
," his deep voice rumbled in his vast chest. "Your generosity humbles me."

"I understand," said Samuel in a soft, silky voice. "That Charlotte is showing a certain amount of magical ability. How could this be?"

Duncan Gillespie cleared his throat, the noise almost a growl of annoyance.

"Charlotte is a fully emerged
vampyre
," he said, in a tone that dared anyone listening to disagree with him. "The injuries she suffered during her transition were extreme even by our standards. We are lucky she lives since she was deliberately poisoned by dark magic. The proof is set before us. We also know by this proof, and by the attack on Anais in Shanghai that Eleanor Pattullo is dealing in black magic. We do not know if Charlotte's magical ability is due to the dark abilities Eleanor harnessed."

"Ezekiel has categorically stated that Charlotte's magic is white. It is a pure and natural phenomenon directly linked to her need to heal. There is nothing to worry about," said James, who prayed to God he was right.

"The fact you are working with our mortal enemy, hand in hand with Ezekiel and his Legion, informs me there is plenty to worry about," shot back Samuel. A vampyre who's pathological loathing of magic, whether white or black, was well-known. "The marriage must be annulled with immediate effect. We cannot have a vampyre prince joined to a witch. Our laws are there for a reason and..."

"That is enough," Duncan retorted. "You need not concern yourself with my family or my business, Samuel. Take care of your own."

"Samuel is correct," drawled Damasio Casta, the Precedential Elder's loathing of magic more than matched Samuel's. And James felt his heart drop to his shoes. If Damasio ruled against his marriage to Charlotte, they were doomed. "The marriage must be annulled. And the witch brought before us to ascertain that she is not a danger to humans or vampyres alike."

As James opened his mouth to argue, his father caught his eye and merely nodded that
he
would take care of this.

"The girl didn't ask for any of this to happen to her. Charlotte is a member of
my
family, Damasio. As I am sure
you
, of all people, appreciate..." Duncan paused and let his words have the most impact. "Family comes first. My son and his wife are deeply in love. She has broken no laws. Whatever power she possesses is weak, a part of the fabric of the natural world and therefore should not be feared by people who should know better." He turned his head to direct that hit at Samuel.

"Let us," interrupted Constantine in a soft voice. "For the moment let us put Charlotte's... abilities to one side. The most important issue is what do we do about Eleanor? She has opened a portal from this reality and escaped this world to another. I believe she is not working alone. She conspires with another... force. A dark force. An act that means her death. I therefore propose a Juristic ruling that when caught, she be interrogated and be cast unto The Fade. Everyone in agreement say 'Aye'."

Every single person present said, 'Aye.'

And so Eleanor Pattullo's fate was sealed.

However, James couldn't give a rat's ass about Eleanor's fate.

He realized he was in the middle of a desperate fight to save his marriage, his wife. His father and his brothers had his back. He would expect nothing less, but would their support be enough?

Now the priest Vassili cocked his head to stare, with eyes that held no emotion, at the Gillespie vampyres. A black and limpid gaze that froze the blood in James's veins.

"The Precedential Elders permitted myself and Voltaire to witness this Juristic ruling today and for that I thank them," he said. His voice lacked inflection and was as dry as dust. "However, it goes against our beliefs, our laws and those of the natural world for a vampyre and a witch to mate. Two species, incompatible, under God. Charlotte must be brought to the Dyunik Monastery for examination and a thorough analysis of her powers. Only then can she be released back into the community."

Cue a stunned silence.

James leapt to his feet, his vampyre rising.

He knew what,
'a thorough analysis of her powers'
meant.

Torture.

No way was his wife going to set foot in a place that even the Hammer House of Horror couldn't dream up.

Marcus and Adam stood either side of him, their vampyres joining his.

"I can guarantee that Charlotte will never, ever, use her magic, if she truly has the power, upon our kind. I guarantee it."

Constantine stood, too, tall and powerful. He turned his head to scorch a dark look at the priests, who sat there totally unconcerned that they'd tossed a lit stick of dynamite into the proceedings and were happy to wait for the explosion and observe the bloody fallout.

"Now, now, Vassili. I have Charlotte's blood test results. They are beyond doubt. She is vampyre. The laws of physics one-o-one says that a vampyre and a vampyre hybrid can reproduce and therefore mate."

Vassili didn't even turn his head to acknowledge the comment.

His eyes remained on the way James showed his fangs.

"If she has magic, she is not vampyre," the priest said, refusing to budge an inch.

Now help for James came from an unexpected quarter.

"You want to take us on, priest?" this from a beyond furious Cristophe. "You
dare
think to imperil the mate of a vampyre prince during a Juristic Ruling? Let me warn you now, threaten one and you threaten us all."

Vassili turned limpid eyes on Cristophe.

"The darkness that has arisen in our world was cast from the fruit of your loins. Perhaps we should also investigate the profligate activities of your house?"

The threat was clear and absolute.

Vassili was making a power grab.

The attempt was a clumsy one as well as monumentally stupid.

James couldn't believe he was witnessing such an event. No one, ever, threatened the political hierarchy of the vampyre nation. Now he wondered if he and his brothers and his father had somehow missed the growing religious power of the Order.

Cristophe's wide smile, a smile that didn't reach his eyes, showcased his glittering fangs.

He turned to his sons.

"With immediate effect place every priest of the Order in Rome under guard. Any problems, dispatch them unto The Fade and burn their churches to the ground."

On the screen all Pattullo vampyres, except for Cristophe, rose and left the meeting to carry out the wishes of their sire.

At that Vassili and Voltaire rose as one.

Rome was the Order's second largest territorial dominion on earth.

Fascinated by the amazing turn of events, and in spite of his own worries, James realized he was observing a real live pissing contest on a grand scale.

Looking all cool and relaxed, Cristophe lit a long slim cigar, kicked back in his chair and insultingly blew smoke into the camera. When the smoke cleared, he eyed the priests with a clear loathing James could get right behind.

"Nothing to say, boys?" Cristophe asked with monumental impertinence into the loud silence.

The priests turned to look at Constantine and Damasio for help and support, both of whom shrugged as if to say,
'You started it, better finish it.'

"You will do nothing to prevent such a blasphemy and desecration?" Vassili asked Constantine.

The Precedential Elder shook his head.

"If you wanted a religious war, priest, you've got one."

Without a word the priests turned and, floating like ghosts draped in black, left.

Now Constantine turned hard blue eyes on Cristophe.

"What the hell's the matter with you? We've had over one hundred years of peace and quiet from those bigots. I'd have thought you had enough on your plate without stirring up dissent."

Cristophe smiled, his cigar clamped between super-white fangs.

"They've been asking for a kicking for years. I don't have your patience. They are parasites. They spread disease. They spread hatred. They spread death. Their time has passed." Now he turned to the Gillespie vampyres, his Italian accent deep and low. "You will need to protect Charlotte. Vassili is one cunning, slimy, son-of-a-bitch. I've heard stories. If she disappears into the hell hole of the Dyunik Monastery, you'll never get her back. Or if you do, she'll be but a shadow of her former self and spouting about a new epoch in vampyre history."

"Brain-washing?" asked Duncan.

"God knows," muttered Cristophe. "Whatever they're doing in that fucking monastery it needs to be stopped."

"Yes, well, you might have a hard-on for them, Cristophe, but at the moment the politics of the Order are the least of our worries," this from Constantine.

Everyone went silent.

When a Juristic Ruler spoke in that tone, everyone listened.

"Latest news from the World Health Authority and the CDC in America. Liberia and Sierra Leone have closed their borders, their airspace. Ebola is airborne."

All that could be heard in the silence was the collective sound of vampyres inhaling a breath.

Fuck
.