So, word count wise, we are still good. Still dubious on the quality,but it’s count that matters. Also, coming up soon is the ‘Plot Spanner’ which are Spanners thrown into the works of the story. Taking risks with the story.
Chapter I | Chapter II
Chapter III: Perfect Alignment
Henry’s first thought as light shone on his eyes was that this was not his bed, by any stretch of the imagination. The sheets weren’t the crisp high count cotton he was used to and neither was the bed particularly big. It all served as a terrible reminder to the last twenty four hours.
He blinked as the last few minutes of the previous night came to him. Henry spun in his sheets to sit bolt upright and his hand when to his neck. He frowned to himself because it went against the grain of what he had grown up believing.
‘Don’t worry,’ said an amused voice from the bedroom door, ‘I promised her I wouldn’t eat anyone.’
Henry looked over at Niccoló lounging in the doorway. ‘And you are listening to a human?’
Niccoló shrugged. ‘She interesting,’ he said. ‘Interesting enough to keep her on side at the moment.’
‘So you plan to use her as your play thing?’ asked Henry grabbing his crumbled shirt.
‘No,’ he said, ‘I’m planning to use her to get every ounce of information out of her about what she knows about Kaleed, and me, and then, I’m going to hunt that son of a bitch down.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Henry, ‘I don’t blame you, so you’ll not mind if I tag along for the ride.’
Niccoló shook his head and laughed. ‘I do mind, as it happens. You are human, and I don’t work with human.’
‘Yet you are playing puppy dog to Aracelle Serafino,’ replied Henry, ‘waiting for her to deal out her little scraps of information.’
‘Not when I have that thesis of hers,’ Niccoló shot back, holding up a bound book. ‘It was in her bookshelf.’
‘It’s about you,’ replied Henry crossing his arms over his chest and staring down the vampire, ‘Kaleed pops up in the capacity of turning you into what you are now and your long held desire to kill him. I’ve read it and you won’t learn anything about him from it.’
Niccoló looked at the small bound book in his hand before grinning. ‘True, but it does have her bibliography in the back, so I can just chase up the volumes she read.’
Henry shook his head and laughed. ‘Go knock yourself out,’ he said with the flick of his hand to dismiss Niccoló but he just stood there.
‘You can go,’ said Henry.
‘I realise that,’ said Niccoló taking a step into the room.
Henry was struck by how big he suddenly seemed and now mesmerising; it was probably how he got his prey to acquiesce to his requests when he had them in his arms and ready to strike. Niccoló was not a human, he reminded himself, but a dangerous monster from a dangerous time.
‘But let me tell you this, Your Royal Highness,’ continued Niccoló, ‘you are in an unholy land now, and the usual rules don’t apply. I’m not a subject of the Crown of Briton and therefore, you cannot command me.’
He was saved having to answer when his phone started ringing from the pocket of his disgarded trousers and he moved to check the phone so he could close off the conversation with Niccoló. He turned his back for a single second, when he looked up, Niccoló had gone. He puffed out a breath. Henry needed to know why the world had chosen him to be connected to this creature of the night when he had spent his life as a God fearing man.
Aracelle frowned as she stepped over the threshold of her home with Stephen in tow. It was nearing to midday and the house was dark with all the curtains drawn. That was what you got when you had a vampire dossing on the sofa. She listened out and heard the shower running and huffed out a sigh.
‘You know, you should really come and stay with me,’ said Stephen as they stepped into the living room.
She looked around and catalogued all the books that had been taken from the shelf. She frowned and shook her head.
‘What is it?’ asked Stephen looking around.
Aracelle shook her mane of red hair again. ‘Nothing,’ she said as she walked over to her desk where she had left her case file that morning. As she looked down her eyes fell on a page of a codex that she hadn’t been using.
She pulled the book over and glanced at the diagram entitled ‘Perfect Alignment’. Aracelle frowned as she read the description of the phenomena that happened once every five hundred and nineteen years; the next one in two weeks’ time. As the shower switched off Aracelle slid into her chair and pulled her case file from drawer.
‘Aracelle?’ asked Stephen again with a note to his voice.
Aracelle pointed up to a shelf on her right. ‘Zuriel’s Compendium, fourth shelf, middlish,’ she instructed as she opened the file and picked up a picture. She held it up and studied the image she had looked over and over again since early last week.
Less than a minute later the book was hovering under her nose. She looked up and smiled her thanks as she flicked to a page towards the end of the book.
‘What are you looking for?’
Aracelle jabbed her finger at a passage. ‘This,’ she said, ‘from fourteen ninety-two. It talks about a ritual that was attempted when the alignment was last in place. Requiring the blood of ten; three innocents and seven that represent the deadly sins. Those who represented the sin where killed and their bodies marked, while the three innocents would be sacrificed.
‘These are the symbols of the seven,’ explained Aracelle turning the book to Stephen.
Stephen took the book as the door to the hallway opened. Aracelle looked up and felt her eyebrows lifting as Niccoló sauntered in wearing nothing but a towel slung low over his hip. To her annoyance, he breathe stole for a second before she recovered, but not soon enough for the dark haired vampire not to have noticed. He smirked at her and she wrinkled her nose in a dirty expression back at him.
‘Making yourself at home, Niccoló?’ she enquired politely.
Stephen looked up then around at the vampire. ‘So, this is the,’ he started before he stopped as Aracelle’s eraser hit the side of his head.
‘He has enough of an ego, let’s not inflate it,’ she said sternly before turning her attention back to Niccoló. ‘Where is Henry?’
‘Stepped out for milk,’ he said, ‘getting used to the fact that he might not be a prince any more. It’s a shock to the system for him, not having someone to dunk his teabag.’
Aracelle scowled before turning her attention back to Stephen. ‘Marks of the seven,’ she said before turning the page for him, ‘and marks of the innocents.’ She handed him a picture from her case file.
Stephen took it as Niccoló joined them and looked over the page that Stephen had open. ‘I’ve seen this before,’ he said taking the book. ‘The city was in panic.’
‘City?’ questioned Stephen.
‘Venice,’ said Niccoló, ‘my home when I was a human.’
Aracelle took the book back again. ‘Not only that, the symbol for greed was carved into the wall at the murder scene of King Edward. I remember seeing this symbol in several of the pictures,’ she pointed to a symbol that used to denote money. ‘I didn’t really think much of it at the time; I was more concerned with the other markings on the body.’
‘So Larissa was right,’ said Henry from the door. ‘It was ritualistic.’
‘So it would seem, Your Royal Highness,’ she said.
Henry nodded slowly. ‘So where does this leave us?’ he enquired. ‘Do we have more questions than we have answers?’
‘Most likely, yes,’ said Aracelle, ‘sorry.’
Stephen put the book down. ‘We should call Larissa, and get her up to date,’ he said, and then he looked at Aracelle. ‘You really weren’t kidding when you said this was bigger and more dangerous than anything we have faced before.’
Uncomfortable did not begin to explain the atmosphere in Aracelle’s flat. On her own it was light and airy, but now, it was cramped as difficult alliances were forged between the D.T.U. members and the vampire. Silence had fallen between five of them as they had all moved onto everything they could find about perfect alignment. The only sound was the rustle of books as her fingers slid over the keyboard as she constructed an email to one of her many contacts.
She paused for a moment, looking over the words she had written to Alessia Valenti, a demon hunter who worked in Italy.
‘Who is Zuriel?’ asked Stephen suddenly breaking the silence. He held up the Compendium he had been reading.
Aracelle looked up from her email. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Questioning my source,’ he said, ‘it’s what you always say, that a source should be questioned. So who is this Zuriel?’
‘There several accounts of who she is,’ she explained, ‘it’s likely that those stories have merged and become one though. The Valentin Family chronicles state that Zuriel is Lady Zuriel Serafino, other’s suggest, including the Papal records, that Zuriel is what is known as a Seraph.’
‘What’s a Seraph?’ asked Henry putting down his own book.
The whole group was interested now and all of them looking at her expectantly, even Niccoló.
Aracelle clicked her tongue. ‘A Seraph is a guardian of mankind,’ she said getting up and walking to her largest bookshelf. ‘It is where we get our modern interruption of Angels from. According to several Codex’s predating the idea of Angel’s, there are written reports of ethereal winged beings that lived among humans fighting side by side to thwart the demon’s that walked the Earth.’
She pulled a large book from the shelf and opened it to a page which contained an image that predated the writing of the book of Genesis. ‘This winged being is a Seraph, gone are the white wings, robes and halo that you would be used to, and replaced with coloured wings, in this case gold, holding light and fire to defeat the creatures of the night. The clothing you will note is contemporary of the era.
‘It is said that Seraph’s would live as human’s by day and at night they would fight a furious battle to protect human kind,’ she concluded. ‘The confusion with Zuriel probably comes from her surname, Serafino is Italian for Seraph and that there is a Seraph by the name of Zuriel. The Seraph Zuriel was not a guardian of mankind, but her job was to protect her kin on Earth.’
Everyone was looking at her as she brought her explaination to a close. Niccoló was looking at her more intently than any of the others. ‘Zuriel Serafino is your ancestor, isn’t she?’
Aracelle nodded before turning away to push the volume back into its shelf.
‘So she wasn’t a Seraph?’ said Larissa with a relieved smile.
Seraph’s had been classed as demons since the days of the Bible when their good side had been torn away from their bad side for the sake of creating something fictional. A Seraph’s mission might be to protect mankind when they were created but they could also exercise free will and turn their strengths to destruction. Like Kaleed had done.
‘Not as far as I am aware,’ replied Aracelle going back to her desk. ‘Have we got any more information from any of this or are we still blind?’
‘I’ve found nothing more about this particular ritual,’ said Henry, ‘although a few others have been connected to Perfect Alignment. There are a whole host of dark rituals that cover almost everything.’
‘Perfect Alignment focuses energy,’ said Larissa, ‘it makes every spell more powerful. Each day it comes closer I feel my magic get stronger.’ She looked between the others who were looking at her slightly suspiciously. ‘Caster,’ she reminded them. ‘Perfect Alignment came up in my training because I should live to see it. I hadn’t really thought about it until you mentioned it on the phone, Aracelle.’
‘Well, that’s living with the glass half full,’ remarked Niccoló.
Larissa stared at him; her expression dark and utterly dangerous. ‘Somehow, I figured you’d have had something to say if I had said that I will live to see the day.’
Niccoló raised his eyebrows before chuckling. ‘At least I would have admired you for having a bit more of a fighting spirit,’ he remarked. ‘Are you usually this cheerful, or is it just me that is grating on your nerves?’
Larissa squared her shoulders. ‘Oh, I won’t let you have the satisfaction of letting you grate on my nerves.’ She stood up and looked at Aracelle. ‘I appreciate what you are trying to do, but I need some air. I shall see you at the office in the morning. We have work relating to the kidnaps to do.’
Aracelle nodded her head. ‘I’ll draw up the paperwork tonight.’
The Caster nodded her head. ‘Right, and Henry, did you wish to return to my apartment tonight?’
Aracelle mentally added the ‘you’ll be safer there’ to the end of the sentence.
Henry rose from his seat. ‘My bag is still there, it will be good to get out of these clothes,’ he said, ‘Aracelle, thank you for your hospitality and for lending us your expansive knowledge.’
She nodded. ‘It’s my pleasure,’ she said with a smile. ‘I’m just sorry this situation has arisen for you, but I can say I think we’ll prove your innocence.’
‘Thank you, I appreciate it.’
He wanted her alone. Niccoló frowned at Stephen who he had learnt was the ‘muscle’ in the team. Niccoló had to assume he had hidden strength; much along the lines of Aracelle. He glanced up as she walked back into the living room after seeing Larissa and Henry out.
‘Right, Chinese or Pizza, and you are paying,’ she announced to Stephen as she held up two take out menus.
‘Pizza,’ he decided then Aracelle chucked the menu at him.
Niccoló had to get rid of the boy and he wanted answers from the woman who seemed very well acquainted with his past. He had hidden her copy of her thesis in the book he was supposed to be reading about Perfect Alignment, instead he seemed to be reading his life story with assumptions about his existence that were too close to the bone for his liking.
She had somehow gotten beneath the horror stories and he wanted to know how she had done that. He watched Aracelle glide over to her desk and slide into her seat. He watched her eyebrows lift as she read the screen before she started typing with furious abandonment. Niccoló tore his gaze away from her and back to Stephen. He seemed to be looking though the menu, then he glanced up to check Aracelle was occupied. It would only take a second to just pounce and Stephen would be out for the count for at least two hours if not the whole night.
One more look at the occupied warrior before he threw his book aside and moved his body in a fluid dangerous move towards the unsuspecting Stephen. At the edge of his senses something else moved and before he could do anything he hit an immoveable wall and something sharp slipped between his ribs.
He looked down expecting to see Stephen’s small form but instead he met violet eyes that powered into him. Just outside their bubble, Stephen was pulling a dagger from his pocket but Aracelle had already beaten him to it.
‘Unnatural speed, Aracelle, that really is something I did see,’ he muttered sucking in a breath. ‘Could you remove the dagger?’
‘No,’ she replied, ‘now, while I’ve got you here, we are going to be clear on one thing. I will not allow you to harm anyone I work with, if you do then I will dispatch you so quickly you won’t have a moment for your afterlife to flash before your eyes. Do. You. Understand?’
Power radiated off Aracelle as she spoke in a voice that would brook no argument from him. The power that flowed thought her was enough to reduce him to ashes in a second.
‘What the hell are you?’ he asked suddenly.
Aracelle ripped the dagger from his chest. ‘Terrifying,’ she replied as she sheathed the dagger. ‘You will do as I ask, do you understand?’
He bowed to her. ‘Yes, Ma’am,’ he drawled before turning on his heel and fleeing the apartment that had too many questions for his liking.
Stephen was looking up at Aracelle as he struggled to bring his breathing into line. ‘Hate to say it, but Aracelle, what the hell are you?’ he said repeating Niccoló’s question. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for what you just did.’
She sighed heavily. ‘It’s complicated,’ she said, ‘and a whole lot worse because it was you that saw that.’
‘Lying to me the whole time we’ve known each other?’
Aracelle nodded; for nearly ten years she had been friends with Stephen and keeping her true nature from him had been the hardest thing. He was a loyal friend and she was lying to him every day.
Stephen stood up and placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘Is your nature a lie?’
‘My nature?’
‘Yes, all the things that make you, you, are they a lie?’ he asked, ‘you’re gracefulness, intelligence, killer wit, is that all a lie?’
She shook her head.
‘Then you haven’t lied too much, just about what you are,’ he said.
‘Which will be enough for Larissa,’ said Aracelle, ‘she hates all demon’s.’
Stephen frowned and rubbed his bristled jaw. ‘It’s hard to look at you and see a demon,’ he smiled at her, ‘I’m your friend, you can tell me.’
Aracelle jammed her hands in her pocket before stepping over to where Niccoló discarded book sat, with a second one tucked in it. She looked at the cover and laughed.
‘What is it?’
She showed the two books to Stephen. ‘A stunning display of originality.’
‘I think you hit a nerve,’ pointed out Stephen nodding towards the thinner book.
‘It was his lung actually,’ replied Aracelle as she pulled her stiletto dagger from its sheath. The blade was dark red with the smeared blood. ‘He’ll recover soon enough.’
‘Then he’ll try to kill you for that.’
She pressed her hand to an ancient scar on her neck that she always covered up with a scarf. ‘He can try, but I’m faster and stronger.’
Stephen quickly got to his feet and pulled at the scarf she was wearing.
‘Stephen,’ she yelled, but it was too late. Exposed on her neck was a bit mark with two puncture like marks.
‘Are you a vampire?’
Aracelle grabbed her scarf and tied it around her neck. ‘If I was I wouldn’t still have these,’ she exclaimed, ‘why the hell did you do that?’
‘Because I want to know what you are,’ replied Stephen raising his voice a little. ‘Seven years I’ve known you and I’ve never even suspected a thing. Never even thought you could be anything other than human.’
‘I’ve had a lot of practice at blending in where I am needed,’ replied Aracelle, ‘a few thousand years to get it right.’
Stephen sat down suddenly before looking up at Aracelle. ‘A few thousand years?’
‘Yes,’ she nodded before taking a deep breath. ‘I’m a Seraph, as previously described. That picture I showed you of a Seraph, was me.’
‘So you predate the religious movement?’
Aracelle nodded. ‘By three thousand years. Although, by the standards of my people, I’m still relatively young, it is said we can live for eons.’
‘Whoa,’ replied Stephen. ‘So you’ll be still here when I’m long gone.’
‘I’ve seen many people that I care about leave this world, you’ll forgive me if I say I’m used to it now,’ replied Aracelle. ‘I have lived on Earth constantly since the fourteen hundreds.’
Stephen blew out a long breath. ‘That’s a hell of a life time, Aracelle,’ he said.
‘Blink of an eye to someone of my age,’ dismissed Aracelle with the flick of her hand. Then she caught Stephen’s eye. ‘You can’t tell Larissa, she despises all demons, and although I don’t like it, I am classified as one.’
‘My lips are sealed,’ said Stephen as he leant forward to pick up the book he had been reading. ‘Right, Perfect Alignment, what are we going to do?’
Aracelle shrugged. ‘I don’t rightly know what is happening; we have several possible avenues to look at.’ She took in a breath and tapped her fingers against her leg. ‘I think Zuriel is on to something in her Compendium so if you follow that up I shall look elsewhere for other leads.’
‘Should we not focus on one area?’
‘Eventually, yes,’ agreed Aracelle, ‘but we need to be looking at the right thing. Perfect Alignment has a lot of rituals associated to it; we need to the right one so there is minimal loss of life.’
Stephen smiled and nodded before he opening the book. Aracelle exhaled because for just one moment, all was right.
Chapter IV | Chapter V
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