Seeking Eternity Ch. 03

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Building bridges, keeping secrets--but to what end?
4.7k words
4.8
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Part 3 of the 8 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 02/04/2012
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He stared down at her sleeping form, cozily tucked into his bed. When asleep, she looked so much younger. As if she did not carry the weight of the world on her shoulder.

Bending down, he brushed away the stray strand of hair that curled across her forehead. She was beautiful with that platinum blonde hair and alabaster skin. And when she smiled, it was as if he was basking under the light of the sun—provided, of course, that he imagined himself a human beforehand.

As he watched the regular rise and fall of her chest, a slow grin formed on his lips. Last night, she had warmed not only his bed, but also his still, unmoving heart. With the soft, sweet breath that fanned across his skin as she kissed him all over his body, it seemed that she had breathed life into him. And all he wanted to do was protect her now.

Which was madness. She did not need protection. Especially not from him.

Turning away from the sight of her, he quietly walked to the door. Amélie, one of his sire's female children—which made her his sister—was leaning against the wall across the door of his room.

"You should not have kept her here," she said in greeting, her British accent more pronounced than usual.

"I decide who stays in my house and who doesn't," he countered, heading for the stairs.

He heard her sigh, but Amélie said nothing more. Soon, her silent footsteps were following his, down the stairs and across the foyer to the front door.

Outside, the sun was already up, cloaking the world in warmth and light. Putting on his shades, he gritted his teeth and stepped out the door. Even after all this time, the rays of the sun still stung his exposed skin.

At least, you do not burn, he thought ruefully, getting in the car whose door was held open by the chauffeur. Amélie was soon seated beside him, and the car was driving away.

"Schedule a meeting with the others," he ordered his friend, who, by all accounts, was also his assistant at work. Pushing a button, he activated the tinted window that separated them from the driver. "We need to discuss our next course of action."

"A miracle," drawled Amélie, rolling her eyes. "When was the last time you consulted the others before making your decisions?"

He let it go. If he tried to explain himself, Amélie would see him as guilty, which he was not. Besides, what explanation would he give? Melisande brought Raine to him. There was virtually no choice but to keep the woman, especially in her condition. But any mention of Melisande would set Amélie off. Better say nothing, then.

"I need you to work a miracle today," he said instead.

Amélie's eyebrows shot up, although she reached for the agenda book she normally carried in the office. "What? Chase the sun away?"

He ignored the sarcasm. She could try, but Amélie knew that it would not work on him. He had not lived for centuries just to be set off by that kind of provocation. So he leaned back on his seat and said, "Set up a meeting with Titan-Argentum."

Beside him, Amélie tensed. He did not have to hear the acidic tone of her voice to know exactly how she despised his order.

"Wolves?"

"I need to talk to Cassandra," he said in reply.

"You have gone mad," she remarked in a snarl.

Raising an inquiring eyebrow, he turned to her. Sometimes, Amélie forgets that he was older than her by at least two centuries. And he forgets how young she still was. "Can you do it or not?"

Amélie pursed her lips and scribbled away on the book she held. "If she pounces on you and bites, do not say I didn't warn you."

"Considering that I will be dead by then, of course, I will not blame you," he replied, amused.

*****

Raine reluctantly opened her eyes, uncertain of how she would face the day and the consequences of her night-time decisions. For a moment, she just stared at the ceiling, unaware of her surroundings as she pondered on what had taken place.

She slept with the vampire again. And unlike the previous occasion, there were no excuses that would justify her actions this time. She was well aware of what the consequences would be, and she decided to do it anyway.

At least you had a great time last night, she reminded herself, smiling as she took a deep breath. Her vampire lover knew how to satisfy a woman.

But the time for idle pursuits had come and gone, and now she had to face the reality of the situation again. Reluctantly, she sat up, clutching the black sheet against her chest as she surveyed the room.

Most of the furniture was black, although the lamps of various styles and heights were mostly grey or beige. The bed was a classy black one with a headboard made of slate-grey stonework. Both the floor and the walls were pure-black marble, so smooth that Raine could see her reflection on them. In the middle of the room was a patchwork cowhide carpet of brown and white—a luxurious addition that had sinful thoughts of fucking senseless on the floor running through her mind.

With just a faint splash of maidenly blush colouring her cheeks, Raine shook her head. He would definitely not object to that idea. The question was, would they be able to engage themselves in the act? Now that the sun was up and spilling into the room from the open window, truth came back with a vengeance, stealing away her dreams of living in this godforsaken room and enjoying all the luxuries that came with it, in flesh or otherwise.

Get real, Raine, she reminded herself, heaving a big sigh as she gingerly left the bed after wrapping the sheet around her body. This madness needs to end.

And she had to get out of the house soon, before the vampire comes back and she forgets all reasons why she should not be here. Last night had shown Raine just how badly the vampire affected her, so there was no need to deny her attraction to him anymore. If she stayed and he returned, she would be happily bedded in no time.

But before she left, she had to know who it was she bedded in the first place. Put a name on the face she vowed she would never forget.

With this thought firmly in mind, she approached the desk at the other end of the room, where a dual monitor was mounted. His personal computer. There ought to be files here that would point out to his identity. If she could get past the passwords, that was. But computers were not Raine's forte, and it was too late to start learning the basics of hacking.

So we do old-fashioned spying, she thought, going around the table to sit on his leather swivel chair. The desk had, as expected, drawers, and when she pulled one, she was greeted by a number of folders. Taking them all out, she began looking at the files.

It did not take her long to realize that the vampire was either associated to a very powerful man or a powerful man himself. The folders contained charts and figures that belonged to a boardroom meeting, and the money projected in most of them were large enough to make Raine let out a low whistle. There was, however, no clue as to which company it belonged to. But it would not deter her. She had more drawers to explore.

Raine was just about to open the third drawer when a series of soft knocks sounded from the door.

"Mistress?" a voice called softly. "Are you awake yet? Shall I bring you breakfast?"

She could have kept her silence, but then her stomach growled. Raine grinned ruefully. She could not remember when she last ate anything. Last night, she had declined the vampire's offer of a meal in lieu of another, more exciting pursuit.

"Breakfast will be lovely!" she answered, hoping that the person asking her had not left yet. Is the woman human or vampire? No matter. Nobody would attack her while she was inside her lover's home. She was certain of it.

"It will come right away, Mistress," the woman answered.

"No, wait!" Raine hesitantly closed the third drawer. She would have time enough later. She walked to the door, opened it slightly, and stuck her head out. The woman—young woman, she should say—was still standing outside, breathing. Raine hid a smile. She would really take avail of all luxuries this house had to offer. "Can you also prepare a bath for me?"

A small smile appeared on the woman's lips. "Of course, Mistress. As you wish. May we enter the master's room anytime, then?"

Raine smiled. She would not want anyone to see her rifling through the vampire's files. "As long as you knock on the door first."

She closed the door softly, listening until the sound of retreating footsteps was gone before she returned behind the desk. She had to be quicker about this. If she could find out the vampire's identity before she takes a bath, it would be so easy to slip out once she was clean and refreshed. Provided, of course, that she was given some clothes to change into.

The maid will not assume that I will stay naked until her master comes back, will she? Raine asked herself, blindly staring at the logo on top of the thick folder she found inside the third drawer. Would they assume she was only here to provide the vampire pleasure?

She would find out soon enough. For now...

Her breath caught as she made sense of the logo on the expensive-looking leather folder in her hands. It featured the initials "HC"—in a unique, chrome-black font reminiscent of medieval texts—embossed upon the face of a silver disk. It was such a ubiquitous logo that it would be impossible for Raine not to know what it was for.

The initials stood for "Hayes-Crowe"—as in, Hayes-Crowe International, one of the most successful conglomerate companies in the world. Its businesses included hotels and resorts, bars and restaurants, cruise lines and casinos, automobile manufacturing, and software engineering. The company also owned hospitals and other medical facilities, as well as numerous private schools, all over the world. Overall, it was a pretty damn big company, earning billions of dollars every year.

Unable to bear the pain of wondering what the vampire's connection to HC International was, Raine opened the folder. As with the other files she had seen, this one contained statistics on how well the company was doing—only now, all figures were compared to other companies selling rival products. Everything about HC International was highlighted in yellow ink so that it seemed to jump out of the page and glare at Raine.

Fascinated, she leafed through the pages, a sense of disbelief hanging above her head as she read the highlighted numbers, some of which had more than ten digits on them. She was barely halfway through the files when a sticky note on the back of the page grabbed her attention.

She read it. "Ash, call Seth ASAP. Little Mel brought home trouble."

Raine gaped at the note. Heart beating fast, she scanned the pages, looking for the date they were printed. Sure enough, it was there: about five days ago, probably when she was brought to this house by the blonde vampire and her mate.

"Ash," Raine repeated, dazedly looking at that small piece of paper which pointed out the identity of her lover.

Ash, she was certain, was the diminutive form of Ashford. That was, Ashford Hayes-Crowe, CEO of HC International: that one bachelor billionaire whose face never appeared in any tabloid, newspaper or magazine, thus making it impossible for anyone to recognize him. Raine had thought the man ingenious for his ability to avoid getting his photos published, especially in a world where everybody who was anybody was treated like celebrities. Now, as she closed the leather-bound folder and stared at the HC logo, Raine finally realized how he had managed to do that.

Ashford Hayes-Crowe was a vampire. One who had slept with her twice.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said out loud, feeling as if all her energy was drained by what she just discovered.

Putting the folder back inside the drawer, she thought about what she should do next. Michael and the other slayers had to be notified. The information was too vital. Surely, Michael would know what measures must be taken to try to contain this... this...

What? Situation?

Raine groaned, massaging her forehead. Her head was starting to pound. Maybe she should not have been so persistent in trying to find out who she slept with, and then maybe, she would have spared herself this dilemma.

Just then, knocks sounded on the door. Raine stood up and tried to appear normal even though she was shaken to the bones. First this meal, then her bath. And then she was getting the hell out of here.

Of course, she could not predict the phone call that would change her mind.

*****

Cassandra looked up from her desk, twirling a pen around her forefinger. Her blue eyes snapped to the door at the other end of the room mere seconds before it opened. She put the pen down.

"I said I need no interruption," she told her assistant, who was even then striding toward her desk as if the icy cold tone Cassandra used did not affect her. "Jenna?"

"My apologies, but I thought this might interest you," Jenna said, handing a dossier to her. The girl was good, efficient. But she did not seem to have any instinct for survival. That, or she lived to court danger. "I received a call from someone named Amélie Lecourt."

Raising an eyebrow, Cassandra opened the dossier, staring at the picture of the brunette on the first page. Hazel eyes, shiny locks, pale skin... Though she only saw Amélie once before, Cassandra would recognize her anywhere.

"What does she want?" she asked, closing the file and leaning back on the chair, fixing tired grey eyes on the young woman before her.

"Mr. Hayes-Crowe requests a meeting this afternoon," Jenna answered, quickly opening the agenda book on her hand. Cassandra watched with amusement as a slight frown registered on her secretary's face. "But your schedule is full and—"

"You will clear it," Cassandra cut her off, waving a hand carelessly when Jenna stared at her in surprise. "Did Miss Lecourt mention what Hayes-Crowe wants?"

"No," Jenna answered, closing her book. For the first time, she looked ill at ease, as if she just realized how big of a mistake she had made interrupting Cassandra's reverie. "But she said he would be most pleased if you could meet with him before dusk."

Cassandra shook her head as a soft chuckle escaped her lips. "Only a fool will meet with Hayes-Crowe after sundown." Not that Jenna would know that. Cassandra stood up, back straight, and walked to the desk where she kept her wine. "Fair enough. Call Miss Lecourt and tell her that I will consult my department heads to see who among them can meet with Hayes-Crowe."

Jenna nodded, scribbling on her note pad. "Then I will gather the heads in the conference room and—"

"No," Cassandra said, pouring herself a drink. "Of course I will meet with Hayes-Crowe. I just need them to think that I have better things to do than to cater to their wishes."

The woman was smart enough not to question her decision. "Of course, madam. As you wish."

Alone again, Cassandra looked out of the window, staring unseeingly at the view before her. Ashford Hayes-Crowe. What did he want now? It had been more than a decade since the last time Ashford asked for an audience. Of course, he was not Ashford then—or at least, not this Ashford.

Shaking her head, Cassandra took a sip of the wine. Vampires. It was fascinating how they manipulated the truth. HC International was founded by the first Ashford Hayes-Crowe, grandfather of the current CEO. Supposedly. Cassandra knew better. The Ashford she had met when she was still young was the same Ashford who now ran a billion-dollar conglomerate that seemed to be intent on taking over the whole damn business world.

What could Ashford want this time? Cassandra's grip tightened on the stem of her wineglass as she tried to control her rising anger.

Last time that this same vampire contacted her, it was to offer assistance. But he failed, as Cassandra knew he would. She had not forgiven him for that failure yet. How dare he contact her now?

*****

Ashford closed his eyes and leaned back on the seat, shutting out all the noise that started to bother him. The day had been long—longer still with that meeting with Cassandra. The woman was not pleased, as he had expected, and at the end of the meeting, nothing was settled. She eyed him with suspicion, as though she doubted every word that left his mouth. And perhaps she did.

But for the sake of the honour he thought he had forsaken centuries ago, Ashford had to contact her. It was as much his duty to tell as her right to know. Whether she believed him or not was another matter. For his part, he knew that he had already reached out.

Now, riding the car back to his house, he wondered whether or not he would find Raine in his house or if the house would be as empty as a tomb at his return. With her duties done and Raine safe, Amélie would be happily ensconced in her own house right now, probably sipping warm human blood from a crystal wineglass while listening to soft classical music. Either that, or she would be cursing Ashford to the very depths of hell. And Melisande and Seth...

At the thought of his child and her lover, Ashford had to smile. Who knew where the couple would be? Probably out cavorting in a club or busily satisfying each other in one of their many love nests. They might even be plotting his downfall at this very moment. Heavens knew how he tried to keep Melisande in line, but with her stubbornness and Seth's influence, it was quite possible that she would stake him through the heart one of these days.

It was not a comforting thought. It was bad enough that a slayer now knew of his existence and might kill him in his own bed, but the thought of his child, his own creation, turning against him and ending his existence was a bit too much. But, in the end, Ashford still had faith. Raine would keep her slaying tools from his chest, and Melisande would rather die for than kill him.

As for his other children...

Ashford reached for his phone and called Adam. The man picked up almost as soon as the first ring began.

"How are things?" Ashford asked.

A chuckle came from the other end. "Well enough, I believe. Ross and I are having fun keeping the dogs at bay."

In his car, Ashford shook his head, although a grin spread across his face. The dogs would not appreciate knowing that a vampire referred to them as such.

"They're sniffing around, alerted by your summons," Adam was saying. "Of course, our trails are clear, so there's nothing to worry about."

Ashford frowned. "There is nothing to worry about. Not from this pack. What about the others?"

"Deaf and blind to the world," Adam replied. "Or, at least, it seems that way until a week ago. Rumour has it that one or two of the Council members will visit soon."

That last piece of information got Ashford thinking, even after he ended the call to Adam.

The Council. There was only one council on earth that was of great concern to vampires: the Council of the Wolves.

If the Council discovered the secret vampires were keeping, all hell would break loose. The uneasy pact that kept vampires and wolves from each other's throats for the last five centuries would break.

Damnation. Ashford had worked so hard for that pact. Although not all vampires abide by the rules, there are covens that dedicate most of their manpower hunting down renegades, Ashford's included. Besides, the slayers unknowingly helped handle some. And there was the Council to keep the wolves in line and punish those who defected.

It was not the best of truces, perhaps, but it had worked for centuries. Now, it was on the verge of collapsing. And just because Ashford refused to give the wolves the one thing they wanted. It was quite fortunate that the Council, as of yet, had no clue as to the vampires' secret, but as soon as it finds out...

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