Author's Note: I am very impressed with myself for getting this posted. This is my last week of classes before finals week, so I'm gonna be supernaturally busy trying to get everything done. But I really want to get this story rolling, so I'll make a concerted effort to post at least one more chapter before the week is over. Enjoy it!
:: Gabrael's POV ::
The Mythological Café was actually a pretty decent place. I'd been expecting it to be filled to the rafters with books by Sylvia Browne, Casanova candles, cheap divining runes and choking incense. Instead, there was a spacious front room lined with bookshelves, with the books clearly arranged by topic, and a few armchairs scattered about. Yes, there was incense, but it was white sage, and it had been used sparingly, so the scent wasn't cloying. The second room held magical tools- wands, athames, refills for oils and incenses, crystals, candles, herbs both fresh and dried, and the like- and other assorted paraphenalia. I looked around in appreciation; Michelle seemed to know her stuff.
It was in the second room that I found Michelle. She was behind the counter, doing bookwork before closing for the night. I had been expecting to find a measly, wan creature decked out in tye-dye and hippie beads with weird jewelry, rose-tinted cat's-eye glasses, and Birkenstocks. Instead, she was a tall, slender woman, with black hair down to the middle of her back. She was dressed in all black, and wore only a simple pentacle necklace. She was paler than I remembered most Gypsies to be, and I was jerked out of my memories when she spoke in not a Romanian, but a British accent.
"I'm sorry, sir, we're closed for the evening."
"Michelle de Angeli?" I asked.
She nodded. "That's what they call me."
"My name is Gabe Von Lycanius," I said. "I need to speak with you, in private."
She raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Are you an evangelist?"
Despite myself, a short laugh left my lips. "No, I'm not. I've come here with a… job offer, of sorts."
"I'm sorry, I'm not interested," she said, closing the cash register.
"Please, just hear me out," I requested.
She paused for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. Let's go into the front room."
She led me to the front room, clutching a red mug filled with what smelled like chai tea, where she locked the door and shut the blinds in the door and window before sitting in one of the armchairs. She pulled her legs up underneath herself and leaned against the armrest, waiting. She trained her gray eyes on me, and I needed a minute to compose myself, to force myself to overlook how much she looked like another woman I had once known.
I leaned forward in my seat, resting my forearms on my thighs as I started. "First of all, I need to ask that you suspend any disbelief. If you have questions when I'm done, I'll answer them if I can, but I need you to believe that I'm completely serious here."
Michelle's brows drew together in suspicion. "Who are you?"
"I am a member of a secret society, based in Rome," I began. "We're called the Knights of the Holy Order."
Michelle stood apruptly and headed for the shelves. I furrowed my brow in confusion.
"Miss de Angeli?"
"Please, continue," she said. "I'm only looking for a book… I'm sure it mentioned this Order…"
I shook my head. "It's very doubtful. The only ones who know about the Order belong to it. Our purpose is to guard the world from evil."
Michelle, apparently having found the book she was looking for, walked back to her armchair and sat down, flipping through it. It was heavy, and thick, and somehow looked vaguely familiar to me. She opened it to a certain page and began reading in perfect Latin.
"As nearly as can be reckoned, the Knights of the Holy Order were first established as a society by the ancient Babylonians. Their original name was The Immortal Protectors, and their mission was to defend the innocent and unknowing human population from being preyed upon by the creatures of evil- creatures now called demons, vampyre, werewolves, inccubi and succubi, warlocks and malevolent witches, and the like. The society survived through each major world civilization, its name changing with each change of hands. In the 600s, the leaders of all the world religions came together and agreed that this society's members would consist of holy men and women of all walks of faith, and the society, now called the Knights of the Holy Order, would be based in Rome, God's chosen city. Thus it has remained ever since, and it is said the Order has the divine protection of God through the archangels Michael and Gabriel." She looked up at me, eyebrows raised. "This is the Order you were speaking of?"
I stared at her. "How do you know Latin? And where did you get that book?"
A ghost of a smirk crossed Michelle's face. "I double majored in Languages and World History, and double minored in World Religions and Philosophy, at Oxford. The book came in a shipment from a private contributer based in Sicily. So it's true?"
nodded, trying to get my bearings. "Yes. It's true."
Michelle closed the book, and I stared as I saw the title- The Warriors of God. Now I understood where I had seen this book; it had been written by Cardinal Albaretti. But how had it gotten out of the possession of the Order?
"Could I request that you not sell this book?" I asked. "You understand how dangerous it could be, if it got into the wrong hands."
"You're talking as if the Order is still active," Michelle said suspiciously, closing the book and setting it on her lap.
"Not as active as it once was," I said, ruefully remembering my more dynamic days. "But the organization does still exist. Currently, the Order's main focus is to monitor mythological creatures and to ensure that humans don't know that anything contrary to their view of reality exists."
Michelle pursed her lips. "What does this have to do with me?"
"Well, Miss de Angeli-"
She held up a hand. "Please, call me Michelle."
I inclined my head, a small smile on my face. "Michelle. How much do you know of your family history?"
"Not much," she admitted. "I know there's Gypsy blood somewhere in the family line, but that's about it. Why? How much do you know?"
I smiled wider this time. "A bit more than that. Have you ever heard of the Valerious clan?"
She shook her head, her gray eyes intent. I took a deep breath; I did not like that I had to be the one to give her this information. I hated talking about this family…
"They were a powerful family in the 1400s. The family patriarch, Valerious the Elder, was a Knight of the Order. He pledged himself and his family to the Order, to vanquish Dracula and his offspring."
Michelle stared at me for a second, then burst into laughter. "Dracula?" she asked, trying to get herself under control. "Dracula's a fictional character, made up by Bram Stoker and based off-"
"Vlad the Impaler, yes," I said, the name bitter in my mouth. "Remember this, Michelle; history- especially where mythological creatures are concerned- is never like books say it is. Dracula did exist, and the Valerious were committed to defeating him."
"So what happened?" Michelle asked, more sober now. "Is he still flying around sucking blood?"
"No," I said. "He was killed by a member of the Order in 1887."
Subconsciously, I started twisting the dragon ring on the ring finger of my left hand. I'd had this ring for nearly 600 years now, but it was only after killing Dracula that I'd remembered that it had been my wedding ring after I took it from the vampyre king's finger. It hadn't left my left hand since.
"So what do the Valerious family have to do with me?" she asked, jerking me back to the present.
I cleared my throat. "Valerious the Elder had an illegitimate daughter with Adriana Castragoni, the princess of the Romanian Gypsies. A few generations later, the two lines intermarried. Long story short, you, Michelle, are the descendant of the Castragonis and the Valerious, and you are the last remaining member of the Gypsy royal family."
She stared at me, shocked. I gave her a moment to let that all sink in.
"But… how?" she asked. "How could I be the last one?"
I took a breath, hoping that this wouldn't be too painful to get out. "A hundred-some-odd years ago, when Dracula was destroyed, the last members of the Valerious family that the Order knew of were killed. It wasn't until recently that the Order discovered the Castragoni-Valerious line, and that they were able to find you."
Michelle nodded slowly, and I knew the big question was coming up. "What does all of this have to do with me? The Order, the Valerious and the Castragoni… Why do I have to know this?"
I sat up straighter to deliver the news. "Valerious the Elder pledged his entire family to the Order. With the blood of the Valerious running in your veins, you're bound by this promise. The head of the Order, Svetlana Rosteria, wants me to extend an invitation to you to come to Rome to be trained as a Knight of the Order."
Michelle collapsed against the back of the chair and let out a long, weary exhale. I waited patiently, watching her as she processed the news.
"But… But I'm an ordinary person," she said weakly. "I'm not a knight."
"You have warriors' blood running in your veins," I said. "Your ancestors were powerful defenders against evil. I'm offering you the chance to do the same."
"And if I refused?" she asked.
"There's nothing I can do or say to force you," I replied. "But I will say this." I motioned around the store. "You already believe that the world I speak of exists. You're being offered a chance to protect it, to be sure it doesn't die out."
She nodded slowly. "I'm not particularly gifted, or powerful. But I've always known I was called to protect people," she said, talking to herself. "When I was younger, I'd beg my grandmother to tell me Gypsy legends and stories. My mother always told me they weren't true, but I knew better." She drew a deep breath and looked at me. "Alright. I'll come to Rome."
"Wonderful," I said, standing. "We'll leave tonight. Your things will be brought for you, and the shop will be cared for until your return."
"My return?" she asked, puzzled.
"What, you didn't think we'd keep you in Rome forever, did you?" I asked, shaking my head. "After your training period, you'll come back here. The UK will be your assigned sector of the world, and if anything strange starts happening, you'll be the one called to investigate it. But if there's no call, you can live your life normally."
Unlike me, I thought ruefully.
"I'd need to tell my roommate," Michelle said.
I shook my head. "No one must know what you're doing."
Her face hardened. "Then I must bid you farewell, Mr. Von Lycanius," she said cooly. "Annie is my dearest friend. I tell her everything. I would be unable to keep something this big from her. Besides, were I to become a knight for you, wouldn't things start targeting me? If so, then Annie is at risk too, and she deserves to know what's happening."
I sighed, instantly seeing the truth in what she said. "We'll bring her to Rome, as well."
"Thank you," she said.
She pulled on a long black trench similar to the one I wore, belted it tight around her, and locked the shop up before leading me through the streets to her modest apartment building. Silently, she led me up three flights of stairs before unlocking her door.
"Annie?" she called.
"Living room, Mikey!" came an energetic voice.
Michelle led me through the small, cluttered kitchen to the small, cluttered living room. Among the furniture, books, and cats was a petite woman dressed in track clothes, following along with a yoga DVD. Her hair was dark brown with red highlights, and was chopped in spiky layers, the longest of which brushed her chin. Her eyes were a surprising shade of electric blue. Energy and zest were inscribed in every line of her thin, athletic frame. She seemed to be Michelle's opposite in every concieveable way.
"Annie, we need to talk," Michelle said.
"Who's the stiff?" Annie asked, looking at me (I pretended not to mind the insult).
"Part of what we need to talk about," Michelle said.
"I'm listening," Annie said, breaking her Warrior II pose to plop onto the yellow leather couch and scoop a cat onto her lap.
Michelle explained everything, with my help, while Annie stayed incredibly still, her eyes focused entirely on us. When we were finished, Annie nodded.
"I'm coming," she said. "Lord knows I can't trust you to be on your own."
Michelle laughed. "Or maybe you'd just go insane without someone to boss around."
"That too," Annie said, jumping up to pack.
I stayed where I was, watching the two girls pack. I was impressed with how quick and efficient the two of them were; it was almost as if they had already worked out a routine for quick escapes. There was little chatter, but much running about; within five minutes they were both ready to go.
Ten minutes later, Annie, Michelle and I were walking down the streets of London, looking for a cab that could take us to Heathrow Airport. I glanced around as we walked; it was quiet. Very quiet. Too quiet.
It all happened in a split second. There was a low growl, then a mass of brown fur lunged out of an alleyway and tackled Michelle. Annie screamed, and was hurled into the ground by one swipe of the werewolf's paw. I snarled, letting the wolf inside of me out to play as I knocked the other werewolf off of her. We tumbled through the streets, snarling and scratching each other. I threw the other wolf into the wall, then turned to look for Michelle.
She stood in the middle of the street, protecting Annie, but she wasn't petrified with fear. Her eyes were closed, and she was chanting quietly in Romanian, her face relaxed and in control.
There was a low rumble from beneath my feet, then I was knocked over by the shock of the earthquake as it caused a rupture in the street. The other werewolf fell, screaming, into the chasm before the ground closed itself again, and all was calm.
I changed form and quickly pulled my clothes back on, then stared at Michelle, who seemed shocked.
"How did you do that?" I asked, astonished.
"I… I don't know," she replied, seemingly stunned. "I just remembered something my grandmother used to tell me, about channelling the earth's energy to protect yourself, and… and then the earthquake hit."
Annie stared at Michelle in amazement. "Nothing special in the witch department, right?" she asked mockingly. "Jesus Christ, Mikey!"
I shook my head. "We have to get out of here. If you've got werewolves attacking you, there's something more going on than Svetlana originally told me." I glanced at the two women. "It'd be faster if I ran. Could you both hold on?"
They nodded. Annie seemed shaken, but Michelle was incredibly composed given what had just happened to her. Michelle climbed onto my back after I changed form, and I gathered Annie into my arms before sprinting through the streets.
As I ran, I pondered what had just happened. I knew there was a pack of werewolves in London; they'd been here since at least the 1600s. But it was incredibly rare that they attacked humans, and when they did it was never a random attack. But this werewolf had not belonged to their pack, I could smell it.
So, who had sent him? And why were they after Michelle de Angeli?