Ancient Blood: Deep Red Part 8

Hannah shook her head. "I don't think I ever will."

"Ever can be a really long time."

"Maybe to you."

Trixie took another swallow from her gla.s.s, then uncurled one finger from the rim and pointed at Hannah. "Have you ever considered becoming a hybrid?"

"No!"

Trixie grinned. That answer was almost too fast. "You might like it."

"I guess the power wouldn't be bad."

"It's not just about power."

"Yes, it is." A bitter expression clouded the woman's large green eyes.

"Sounds like you haven't been treated very well here." When Hannah didn't reply, Trixie continued, "Is Seraphim hard to handle? I know his kind can be tough on a girl."

"No." Hannah held Trixie's eyes. "He's the nicest one I've met since...since I began working for Sir Edward."

"What's he talk about?"

"You're interested in him?" Was that jealousy in the mortal's eyes?

"Just curious."

"I think I should go."

"No, stay." Trixie touched Hannah's arm. "I didn't mean to be nosy. So what else is there to do for excitement around here?"

"Do you want a blond, brunette, or redhead? Hybrid or mortal?"

Trixie laughed. "I don't mean that kind of excitement. I've got plenty of that from Vikenti."

"There's a gambling room, a spa, a heated pool -"

"Heated pool? That sounds nice."

"Let's change into our suits. I'll meet you at the stairs in ten minutes?"

"See you then." Trixie winked. "I think I'll stay here for another couple of minutes and look at the flowers."

Hannah nodded, and Trixie watched the mortal walk from the room, her steps graceful. The woman possessed underlying strength in spite of her mortal frailty, and there was something about her Trixie liked. Unwittingly, Hannah had nabbed Trixie's interest for more than just her relationship with Seraphim. The woman was hiding something, and Trixie was curious to find out what it was.

Chapter Five.

The metal pillar dented beneath the forceful repet.i.tion of Seraphim's kicks. The pillars were created for Immaculate strength, since a normal heavy bag, or even the wooden ones shaped for hybrids, bordered on useless. He spun, the bottom of his gloved fist belting the pillar's scratched surface. The image of Vincent's face hovered over the target, and he struck harder.

As dawn approached, most of the other guests and servants retired, leaving the gym empty. Seraphim was glad. After seeing his old enemy's face, he felt ready to explode from rage-partly at Dilorenzo, and partly at the First Father for sending him. d.a.m.n Adam Lindsay! He knew how Vincent and Seraphim felt about one another! Of all the Network agents who could have been sent, why had he chosen Vincent? Spite, of course, because Seraphim refused to abandon his a.s.signment. Curse the young son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h for sending Dilorenzo!

"Hey."

Seraphim's flesh crawled at the sound of Vincent's voice. He shifted his hip and snapped another kick at the pillar, snarling as his fangs slipped from flesh sheaths.

"h.e.l.lo!" Vincent bellowed.

"I heard you," Seraphim stated, not so much as turning toward the other man.

Vincent approached and stood behind the pillar, taping his hands. He wore black shorts and sneakers, exposing his thickly muscled legs, arms, and chest. His build had always reminded Seraphim of a gorilla, far more like the image of a cave man than the real thing.

"You haven't let anything slide, have you?" Vincent observed Seraphim's practice. "You always were prepared."

"Not always." Seraphim flashed him a scathing look.

I hope you're not going to let hard feelings interfere with our a.s.signment. Vincent's thoughts touched Seraphim's mind. The invasion made Seraphim want to recoil with disgust.

I didn't need you on this a.s.signment! The Network evidently thought otherwise.

"I'm going for a run." Seraphim ripped off his gloves and began unwrapping his hands. "Coming?"

"Sounds like a plan."

Seraphim growled deep in his chest as they headed for the door at the back of the gym. They climbed the stairway leading outside the mansion where the early morning desert stretched on all sides. Normally, he wouldn't have ventured outside at that time of day, but he and Vincent needed to discuss the a.s.signment in private.

Together they raced miles from the mansion, matching each other in speed. Simply running alongside another Immaculate rekindled the ancient rivalry between them. He glanced at Vincent, caught his scent, and knew in spite of his veneer of nonchalance, he was as affected by their meeting as Seraphim. Even thousands of years couldn't erase their violent past, their intolerable hatred.

They slowed their pace until they stopped beside an enormous cactus.

"So what's up?" Vincent said. "Have you found any evidence of the Flower?"

"You tasted the wine at dinner."

"Odd but good. Was that it-the Flower?"

"I believe so."

"Where did he get it from?"

"I don't know."

"I thought you told Adam you had a handle on this?"

"I do. Sending other agents was a stupid move on his part. The more of us crawling around this place, the more chance of exposure."

"What I don't get is if this guy has the Flower and he's supposed to be so "in" with the Network, why doesn't he come forward with it."

"Because he must believe it benefits him to remain silent."

"But why?" Vincent took his lower lip between his teeth, his brow furrowed. "The only thing important enough to hide from the Network would be a direct link to the Originals. Of course he must have a direct link, or else how did he get the Flower?"

"What do you mean a direct link?" Seraphim's lip curled. "The most direct link we have are a few members of the Network old enough to recall Atlantis."

"Was that before or after you dragged your knuckles out of that cave?" Vincent scoffed.

Seraphim almost smiled. The fool thought he was lying about his age!

"At least I'm not still dragging them." Seraphim squinted skyward, his eyes aching from the sunlight. "Your wife-the Baroness-she's also an agent, I gather?"

"One of the best. She's also taken."

"I didn't see a brand on her."

"You didn't look everywhere. So keep those voodoo eyes off her, understand?"

"That sounds so familiar." Seraphim tried keeping his breathing under control, though his fists clenched and his claws sank into his own flesh.

"This isn't Rome, Seraphim. When are you going to get over it?"

"Tell me you've gotten over it so easily!" he growled, his heartbeat quickening. He knew his eyes had begun to glow, the rise of his vampiric nature making them so sensitive he was nearly blinded by the daylight.

"Trust me, it wasn't easy, but I have gotten over it. You can't spend your life living in the -" Vincent dodged Seraphim's fist. He backed away as Seraphim, fangs bared and growling like a rabid coyote, advanced on him.

"Yo, we only fight every hundred years. It hasn't been another century yet, has it?"

Seraphim leapt and Vincent met him in mid air. Their bodies struck with bone-jarring impact.

"You stupid b.a.s.t.a.r.d! We're supposed to be working!" Vincent bellowed, snapping his teeth at Seraphim's throat. His opponent moved too quickly, however, and avoided the potentially deadly blow.

"This is just exercise, Vincent! When the a.s.signment is done, then we can try to kill each other!"

"If I wanted you dead, Seraphimus, you'd have been ashes blowing across Rome two thousand years ago!"

"Only because you sold your soul! Mine has always belonged to me-and herl" "Do you think she'd want you to end up like this? d.a.m.n it, let her memory rest!" "Let it rest to appease you, because you want to forget what you did!"

"I know what I did! I loved her, too! What the f.u.c.k more can I tell you? You want to hear I'm sorry. I am!"

"Sorry isn't remotely enough!"

The men circled one another, fangs and claws exposed, their hands poised to fight. Seraphim's heart raced. His fangs sc.r.a.ped his own lips, the blood scent drifting on the air.

"Sony's all I can say! If you live another two thousand years, are you going to continue like this?" Vincent demanded.

"If I live ten thousand more years I will go on like this!"

"Did you ever consider talking to a shrink, because, man, you've got deep f.u.c.kin' problems! When you signed on to the Network, you swore to put aside our differences and uphold your position!"

"No, I swore I'd try to refrain from killing you! And I always uphold my duty. You're the one who has no idea what loyalty and responsibility are!"

"No idea? Really?" The scent of Vincent's fury struck Seraphim like a jab, further inciting his own rage. "About ten years ago there was a little incident with the First Father before Adam. Remember the guy who wanted to destroy the world? The one we both chased for years?"

"The one you bowed to as soon as he threatened your life!" "The one I helped destroy! It was me, Seraphim!"

"Adam Lindsay killed the First Father and took his place, not you!" "I was with him! Where the f.u.c.k were you?"

The implication sent Seraphim's rage off the scale. He attacked Vincent with two thousand years of fury, and his old enemy met him blow for blow. Vincent managed to kick Seraphim in the stomach hard enough to separate them. They glared at one another, panting, sand clinging to their perspiring bodies.

"Well where were you?" Vincent demanded.

Seraphim's teeth clenched so hard he thought they might chip. He almost wished he could tell Vincent exactly where he was, if just to prove his own loyalty to the cause he had once dedicated his life to.

After so many years, he thought his memories of the dawn of vampirism on Earth might have faded, giving him at least some release. Still he recalled each incident as if it was yesterday.

Atlantis unfolded: Its lush beauty, its beaches and mountaintops. The Originals had literally guided the first men out of caves and built a city marvelous enough to shame Rome which developed thousands of years later. The Originals had not only shared their blood with human beings, but their knowledge and technology. They had seen the potential of the human race, had known the power of people's minds and the complexity of their souls. They thought they'd found the perfect world in which to create a new race. The explorers had initiated a government similar to the one on their home world: a society ruled by a leader called First Father or First Mother who was guided by a group of elders, the Jury. The First Father had been a powerful military leader on the home world. He had volunteered to lead the Earth mission. He and his crew had bitten the cave dwellers of Atlantis, creating the first hybrids. They had pa.s.sed an incomparable gift to human beings. Or had they? Still a child race, humans relished their newfound power and thought of it as a way to conquer the rest of their world. The First Father, power hungry himself, encouraged their violence, and soon many of the hybrid humans were out of control. The Jury unseated the First Father and imprisoned him, then decided human beings weren't yet ready for the power given them. The torturous decision was made to destroy the island and all its inhabitants before their evil could be unleashed on the rest of the world.

Somehow, several of the hybrids realized what the Originals intended and a small group fled the island before it was sunk into the depths of the ocean, destroying everyone on it.

Seraphim and his parents had been among those who escaped. Several months later they discovered a small group of Originals roaming the untamed Earth in search of the First Father who had killed his prison guards and escaped Atlantis before its destruction. Seraphim's parents, having seen the wickedness of the First Father, joined them in their pursuit, along with several of the remaining hybrids.

They moved constantly, always searching, forever trying to appease their hunger for blood while keeping their secret from mortals they met.

After ten years, their paths crossed the First Father's in a battle that left most of their small group dead. The two Originals who had been pursuing their evil brother had been severely injured and could no longer fight. Knowing the First Father would return to destroy them, they pa.s.sed along the only thing of importance to Seraphim, the spells perfected by the telepathic Originals, the history of their kind, and a prophecy they had foolishly chosen to ignore. The prophecy told of the First Father's betrayal of his people and of his ultimate destruction by Immaculate strength. Being the only Immaculate left, Seraphim's young mind believed he had to be the one to avenge his parents' death and destroy the First Father. From that moment, he dedicated his life to learning all he could from any warrior and witch who could train him in physical and magical arts. His entire purpose in life was to destroy the First Father, a creature with pure white flesh and eyes as dark and piercing as a grizzly's.

Seraphim didn't fear his enemy, only the possibility that he might not possess the strength to fulfill his task...

"Seraphim!" Vincent shouted. "Are you hearing me?"

Seraphim forced himself to focus on the present. Atlantis was gone. The First Father was dead, but Seraphim had not killed him. He might have fancied himself the Immaculate of the prophecy, but he had another destiny.

"Do you think Sir Edward knows anything about the Originals and the home world?" Vincent pressed.

"Yes. I believe he does and is interested in more knowledge." "Who wouldn't be?"

"The question is, why does he want it? For good purposes or bad?" "It's our job to find out."

"Then we'd better get back to the mansion." Seraphim turned in the direction of Sir Edward's.

"No more of this fight to the death s.h.i.t. At least until the a.s.signment is over. Seraphim, are you hearing me?"