Vampires of London: Books 1-3

Chapter Four

Chapter FourOnce again, Anna woke up to the sound of muffled voices. But it wasn't two men this time; instead, it was a woman and a man. And she could hear them more clearly, so much so that she could follow the whole conversation word-for-word.

"What do you want?" the male voice, which Anna recognized as Michael's, asked.

"Council business. Where is my dear brother?" the female demanded.

"Out. He took Catherine with him. I'm afraid you'll have to put up with me instead."

Anna held her breath as she continued to listen. It was obvious from his tone that whoever this woman was, Michael not only knew her, but knew her well enough to dislike her.

"Very well. It has come to our attention that some—shall we say—outsiders have arrived in the city. If they're even aware of our customs and laws, they are blatantly ignoring them. Humans have been affected."

That last bit made Anna's ears perk up even more. She was no longer content waiting around in this bedroom, she had to see this visitor for herself. The way she had emphasized the word 'humans' was very strange indeed. Could it be that this visitor also believed in the nonsense story Michael had tried to tell her earlier, about the lot of them being vampires?

"You don't say," Michael responded. His sarcasm wasn't lost on Anna, and she couldn't even see the two of them yet. She hurried out of bed and sneaked out the door as fast as she could. Thankfully, Anna's body ache had mostly subsided as she'd slept, allowing her more stealth and speed than before.

"In fact, would it be safe to say one such human is here right now?" the woman spoke up again.

Suddenly self-conscious, Anna paused just before reaching the top of the stairs. No, she had come this far, she would take a look at this new stranger for herself. It was bad enough that Michael and the other man were deluded about who or what they were, but now this woman seemed equally out of touch with reality.

"Is dear old Gillian still surveilling us then?" Michael asked. "Either way, there are no humans here."

Anna kneeled down and peeked through the balustrade, only to find Michael already staring at her. His expression didn't change one bit; the man had the perfect poker face. A perfectly handsome, infuriating poker face.

Seeing how he had already anticipated her curiosity annoyed her. How arrogant he was.

"The Council has eyes and ears everywhere, as you well know," the slender, dark-haired woman said. She stood with her back toward Anna, her shoulders pulled back, suggesting amazing posture. Anna was almost disappointed she couldn't catch a glimpse of the woman's face.

"Well, Lucille, I don't know what to tell you. If there were a human in here, I'm sure you would have smelled her… or him." Michael maintained eye contact with Anna as he spoke, making her feel uneasy.

Look away, or you'll tip this Lucille woman off! Anna frowned to make her point.

Finally, Michael did stop staring at her.

Anna breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't sure why he was affecting her. These people were clearly nuts. If only she could get out of here and head home. Inconveniently, she still didn't remember where home was exactly, or she might have been able to make a run for it.

"Very well, have it your way. You'll know where to find the Council if you come across any of these unwanted visitors, as well as their victims. I don't have to remind you that Julius expects your loyalty now more than ever. And that goes for my brother as well."

Michael nodded. His expression had softened slightly, making him look just a little less arrogant than before. Still, Anna wasn't sure what to think. These people were weird, untrustworthy.

Lucille nodded and pushed the two double doors open wide as she left. They had barely swung back into position when Michael stood up on the landing in front of Anna.

"Oh!" She took a step back and tried to regain her composure. How had he moved so quickly? "Who was that?"

"Lucille Amboise. Julius turned her around the same time as Alexander, so they consider themselves siblings."

Anna wanted to argue. Turned her. Ridiculous. Michael was really intent on dragging this fantasy out as long as he could manage. "And what is this Council she kept referring to? What do they want with me?"

"The Vampire Council, led by Julius. Well, they make sure that we follow the rules. Like I said before, we're not supposed to—"

"Yeah, not supposed to kill, right?"

"Right." Michael smiled and looked right at her for a moment. As soon as he did, something weird happened inside her chest. Was it nerves? Excitement? No way was she going to allow herself to develop a soft spot for a lunatic!

"It appears that the Council is on the trail of the vampires who did this to you. They take that sort of thing very seriously."

"So not only have you turned me into a vampire to save me, it was vampires who put me in the position to need saving in the first place? Funny how there are all of a sudden a lot of vampires running around London." Anna folded her arms and c****d her head to the side. She didn't have much patience left. Not for him, or his nonsense.

Michael shrugged. "Don't believe me, it hardly matters at this point. Answer me one thing, though: that b****y steak did make you feel better, didn't it?"

Anna pressed her lips together tightly. She wanted to prove him wrong so desperately, but the worst part was that he was right. She did feel better now, and the steak hadn't been as disgusting as she'd thought either. Both those realizations annoyed her to no end.

"Perhaps I just needed more rest," she said at last.

"More rest. Sure." Michael shook his head slowly, then raised both his hands up in the air. "Look, between you refusing to believe a word I'm saying and Lucille turning up and interrogating me, this is turning into quite the trying evening. Perhaps it's best we talk about something else."

What else was there to talk about, though? She'd woken up feeling better, but there was still so much she didn't understand about her current situation. And she didn't even remember the necessary details to allow her to leave yet. She was stuck here, with him, until she could formulate a plan.

"I'm going downstairs to the library for a drink. You may join me if you like." Just like that, Michael had cut their conversation short.

"Wearing a nightgown?" Anna called after him, as he made his way down the stairs at a breakneck speed.

"Check the wardrobe in your room. There might be something in there," he said as he continued sprinting downstairs and to the left, just out of Anna's sight. God, how he annoyed her.

Within moments, she had returned to the bedroom—the one place in this house that was starting to look somewhat familiar—and found something passable to wear. As she undressed, she couldn't help but check herself out in the mirror. She'd changed. It didn't seem possible, but somehow, her body had smoothed out somewhat. Curves that had been there for as long as she could remember had firmed up. Imperfections had been wiped away.

She barely recognized her reflection, something which she might have explained away with the memory loss that she'd woken up with. Only, she clearly remembered what she used to look like. In excruciating, painful detail.

And it was those details, those little things she had found fault with before, which were missing now.

Gone was the cellulite, the odd marks and scars, even the stretch marks. Caps could explain the pointy teeth, perhaps a chemical peel had been responsible for her glowing complexion. And her hair? That could have been brushed and styled while she'd been unconscious.

But there was nothing in the world that could change her body to this extent, was there? There was no cure for stretch marks or cellulite. These two things plagued even skinnier girls. Anna was a lot of things, but even in her changed form, she still wasn't skinny.

Could it be that perhaps Michael's explanation wasn't so far-fetched after all? Could she actually have been changed into something supernatural…? Super- human?

It still seemed impossible, and yet it would explain a lot. Her sensitive hearing—she'd been able to overhear entire conversations taking place halfway across this massive house. Her changed physical form—pointy teeth and impossibly perfect skin. And her appetite for raw meat.

Anna shook her head and pulled on a pair of pants and a pullover she'd found in the wardrobe. These didn't look or feel like they were hers, but they would serve their purpose and make her feel just a little bit less vulnerable. It was awkward having to talk to a stranger wearing nothing more than a nightgown, even if it was nearly floor length and quite modest.

She took a deep breath and glanced at her reflection one last time before heading downstairs. She hoped that whatever drink Michael had been referring to would be something familiar, and not, God forbid, some unfortunate soul's blood.

On the way down, she caught a glimpse of the grand standing clock which towered over the landing. It was almost four o'clock. But inside the house, with its heavy drapes and brightly lit interior, Anna had no sense of time at all. If she hadn't noticed the thick cover of darkness outside as Lucille left, she wouldn't have known if it was four in the afternoon or in the morning.

She had obviously never been downstairs and had no idea of the layout, but her feet carried her automatically through the grand reception room with its elegant period settees and armchairs toward a heavy carved door that led to the library. Inside, Michael awaited.

He looked up the second she'd pushed the door open.

"There you are," he said.

Without warning, he picked up an empty glass from the table beside his leather armchair and flung it in Anna's direction. She was about to duck out of the way and let loose on him, when she realized that she had caught the glass, effortlessly, in her left hand.

"You threw a glass at my head!" she complained. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Michael's lips fluttered almost imperceptibly, as though he was suppressing a smile. "You caught it. Still unconvinced of your changed state?" he asked.

Anna wanted to bite her bottom lip, but then remembered the sharp teeth and resulting bleeding from earlier and stopped herself. How smug he was. Unfortunately, he had a point.

"Fine." She'd barely said the word, and a bottle zipped through the air in her direction. She still wasn't prepared, but at least it hadn't startled her as much as the glass. She caught it by the neck in her other hand.

"Pour yourself a drink. We have a lot to talk about." Michael said.

Anna scrutinized the label. It looked old, expensive. She walked across to the empty chair next to Michael and put the glass down. Then she opened the cap of the bottle and became overwhelmed as the aromas hit her. Woody, earthy, hints of sweetness and spice. It was brandy, that was certain, but she'd never smelled a vintage quite like it.

"Whoa," she mumbled, then glanced sideways at Michael, who was observing her, half full glass in hand.

"Your senses are much stronger now," he remarked.

She poured some of the amber liquid into the glass, which she now recognized as an expensive antique as well. To think that he'd just thrown it across the room like it was nothing. Rich people! What if she'd dropped it?

"How is this even possible," she whispered as she brought the glass to her lips.

The moment the brandy hit her tongue, she knew that somehow it was. Everything she'd rejected before had to be true. She wasn't quite sure how and why she'd ended up here, beyond what Michael had tried to tell her. She didn't even know exactly what her life had looked like earlier—she just knew that things would never be the same.