Novels2Search
Blood and Passion
Ancient Ballroom

Ancient Ballroom

“I knew another Helen once, long and long ago. She was a daughter of the sun, where you walk under the moon’s kiss, but even so, never have I seen a lady so much in her image.”

The words were polished. The flavor of his words were Greek, but with an accent no modern linguist would recognize. The voice was one that Helena would know even if every other memory was torn from her mind.

She turned gracefully, her long satin ballgown sweeping the floor. It seemed absurd to be holding a grand ball while the city was in danger but, well…

Luxury was the way the vampire Covens made deals.

Deals that might, if things went well, bring help to their faltering forces.

Josef had continued his assault on the city. Others were dying in droves, murdered in the shadows or vanished before they could be saved. Some were rescued, but most were dead by the time any aid could reach them. They needed more help than they could muster alone.

So Helena left the most vulnerable of her Coven safely hidden away in her country estate and returned to throw a grand party, with invitations sent to every powerful Other she knew, and plenty she didn’t.

Most, intrigued at least, showed up.

But this guest was not invited, or expected, although he would always be welcome.

“Teucer,” Helena said, and gave the vampire before her a deep curtsey and a genuine smile. He took her hands and she pressed a dear kiss to each of his cheeks as he beamed at her. “Now there is a face I thought not to see for many centuries or more.”

“Be careful, my youngest daughter,” Teucer cautioned her cheerfully, young and handsome as the day he died, and dressed impeccably in a suit as white as her gown. “You might tell all these young people my age, and then how will I get the pretty girls to dance with me?”

“Your charm will serve you well, as always,” Helena laughed, and looped her arm through his. “I cannot imagine any who would refuse you.”

“Even you, my best and brightest?”

“Even me, you old flatterer.”

It was an old joke, of course. Teucer had many lovers over the years, but Helena was not one of them. He never took lovers from those he sired.

“Am I still your youngest?” she asked as he led her onto the dance floor to an elegant waltz. His grace was unmatched, and even she felt like a child in the hands of this ancient being. “Truly?”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“You of all, know how rarely I give the gift,” Teucer said kindly, and kissed her forehead. Out of the corner of her eye, Helena saw Owen notice her dancing partner, and half-turn to keep an eye on them. He was not a jealous man, but no one liked to see their lover kissed by another. “I heard a rumor, Helené, that you raise the banners of war. Is it true?”

“It is.”

“Why?”

“There is a threat to my Coven, to this city, and to us all. I stand against it.”

Teucer considered that as they danced. No one in this gathering would ever know him for who and what he was. Unlike many, he kept his power tight in check, to the casual eye nothing more than any other vampire.

“You have fought this battle once already?” he asked finally, never one for delicacy. Helena would always love that about him. “I know the look of a general counting her forces and coming up short.”

“My allies are dying,” Helena told him as the dance came to an end, and he bowed over her hand as she curtsied to him again. “My enemy has numbers I cannot muster, and I dare not let him win here.”

“Is the threat so great?”

“If our enemy takes this first city, countless more will follow.”

Teucer lifted a glass of champagne off a nearby server and sipped at it as his eyes danced over the glittering party. Helena wondered what he was seeing, and more, wondered what he was hearing.

After all, with age came power, and Teucer was unimaginably ancient. He could hear the thoughts of all those around him, when he cared to.

“Long ago, I knew another Helen,” he murmured after a while, and smiled into the distance, his eyes seeing battles that were now only legend. “And in that war, I wondered often what she thought of the bloodshed.”

“I have never minded blood,” Helena pointed out wryly. The other city Elders had noticed her company, and she was getting no few odd looks. They knew almost everyone at this party, except this one man, who seemed unremarkable.

Of course. One of his talents was called ‘Privacy’ and had the singularly infuriating ability to make his words, and those of anyone he chose, completely unintelligible to listening ears and watching eyes. No one would know what they were talking about until he was good and ready.

“No, you never have,” Teucer burst out laughing, and kissed her hands even as Owen decided to come over and see what all the laughing was about. “In this new battle of Troy, let my bow bend at Helené’s behest. But promise me you will not tell your young friends who I am until the joke is ripe on the vine.”

“I promise, Father,” Helena said, and kissed both his cheeks again just as Owen reached them. “You ever were a wicked schemer, but I am glad to have you at my side.”

“Of course, of course,” Teucer told her, and turned to Owen, his face bright with good humor. “My goodness, Helené, is this your human? He’s delightful.”

“Thanks, I think,” Owen said, easy and as relaxed as he could be when absolutely surrounded by vampires. But he trusted her, and that was still a wonder. She saw the flicker in his eyes as he caught Teucer’s use of her birth name of long ago. “My name is Owen.”

“Owen,” Teucer said, and didn’t offer his name in return, although he did give the human a saucy wink. “I hear you have a little difficulty with a hunter and his minions. I believe I might be able to offer some small assistance.”

Helena hid her smile behind her wine glass as her sire carried off her lover, talking a mile a minute, and still hiding his true nature.

But he was here, and with his aid, they might yet stand a chance.