The sun was rising as we entered London, light chasing away the shadows. I did not ask where we were going, I didn't care, I had expected to be jubilating my escape, but instead I just felt loss, the loss of a certain vampire prince. I leaned my head against the cool glass, tears slipping down my cheeks, I knew I was being foolish but could not help myself.
Carlisle sighed, and I was surprised that we were not at the order. "Where are we?"
The carriage had pulled up at a house on looking the Thames, it was a pretty town house, with a white exterior, it was surrounded by a large fence and padlocked iron gate. He did not answer, just got out the carriage and expected me to follow. I struggled after him and watched as the padlock undid itself with wide eyes, he did not pay any attention to me, just carried on striding forward purposefully.
The door swung open as he waved his hand, I was overwhelmed by his power, in awe of it. Inside, the house was gloriously light, a huge chandelier lighting the hall and windows allowing light into every corner, no shadows dared trespass here. "Come" he said. I followed him up the stairs, and immediately it seemed darker, candles flickered as we passed, the flame dancing like a sprite. At the end of the corridor, Carlisle opened a door and inside was a huge library, the largest i'd ever seen. I walked inside with wonder, my mouth ajar as I looked at the towering book cases.
"Beatrice" called a soft, comforting voice with the lacing of an accent of a distant land that looked over the Irish sea. His red hair was ruffled and his cravat was undone, and his shirt loose and untucked. "Brendan" I choked, bolting into his open arms. He hugged me tightly, soothing me with gentle strokes on my back and through my hair. I sobbed inconsolably, the emotion of the last several weeks, really since my departure from Rowhurst, bursting like a dam and my defences broke as I cried into the vampire's arms.
When I eventually stopped, I pulled away, embarrassed by my outburst. A blush crept over my cheeks and he laughed. "Are you alright?" he asked me. I nodded and sniffed, wiping my eyes with the corner of my sleeve. "I've been pretty stressed" I joked, he laughed.
"I'd say 'pretty stressed' is an understatement" he said, "are you okay?"
"I'll be fine" I said, chewing my lip, my mind plagued by thoughts of Felix, the not knowing was the worst, and I knew part of me would die if he had perished. He put a comforting hand on my arm, squeezing lightly. I smiled grimly then whipped around with Katiana in my hand as the door opened. "Calm, slayer" said a calm, feminine voice, "you are in no danger here"
I did not lower the sword, "Who are you?"
"We are the council" said another voice, as several...people wasn't quite the right word, creatures seemed more fitting, stepped into the light. "The council?"
"The witches and worlocks council" she said flatly. I knew of them, every slayer or supernatural being did and knew not to cross them. The woman had beautiful blond hair, it was so pale it was like someone had captured the light of the stars and woven her hair from it, her skin was like moonlight. She had an celestial beauty, like someone had taken a star and put it in human form, she had a pretty oval face with glittering blue eyes, like the colour of midnight. "I am Thora Torgard" she said, her voice as beautiful as her appearance. Immediately it clicked, "Thorias' sister" I whispered.
"Correct, I am his twin" she explained. Studying her closely, I could see the likeness, the hair, the skin and of course the same midnight coloured eyes. "Allow us to introduce ourselves" another said, stepping into line next to Thora. "I am Evangeline de Gaston" she said, her voice betraying her origin more than her name, it had a heavy french accent. She was the polar opposite of Thora, with fiery red hair and tanned skin, which I was surprised at considering she was french, then again, she was a witch. "Ross MacDuff" he said, he certainly looked scottish, with wild black hair poking out a tie at the back of his head and literally black eyes, I could see no pupil. He grinned wickedly before stepping back to allow the next person forward.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl who hunted NightVampire
Beatrice Everlyn belongs to the greatest family of slayers that ever lived. Until the age of sixteen, she is forced to attend Rowhurst School, where she is taught everything she needs to know to slay the undead that plague the Earth. When she finall...