Chapter 11
An hour later Bride made her way downstairs alone. Vane had "created" a very pretty dark emerald velvet dress for her to dine in. He had left her at Valerius's with Fury while he went to Sanctuary to see if one of the Were-Hunters there would either give him word of Fang or perhaps rescind his banishment long enough for him to check on his brother.
Bride smoothed her hair nervously as she came down the stairs. She wasn't sure what to expect from a vampire who hunted Daimons. Unlike Tabitha, she'd never met one before. And it would have helped if Otto hadn't departed the house shortly after Vane. As she left the stairs, she noted the pasties were gone from the statues. She smiled in spite of herself.
She entered the elegant drawing room to find a tall, black-haired man standing with his back to her as he gazed out the bay windows into the rear courtyard.
His stance was rigid, unyielding. He wore his hair pulled back into a perfect ponytail and was dressed in an obviously expensive, tailor-made black silk suit.
He cocked his head as if he sensed her presence.
As he turned around, she paused.
He was an incredibly handsome man. Black eyes stared out of a face that had been carefully sculpted by the right kind of genes. He had a long, aquiline nose and lips that were set in a firm line that was unyielding and harsh. He was, without a doubt, the most intense person Bride had ever met.
No wonder Otto gave him such a hard time. It was obvious this man had no sense of humor and took everything very seriously.
"You must be Bride," he said in that odd Italian accent that Otto had pegged perfectly. "I am Valerius Magnus. Welcome to my home."
With his regal bearing, she felt a momentary impulse to curtsy before him. "Thank you for letting us stay here."
He inclined his head with the stiff formality of royalty.
"Please," he said, indicating a black velvet-covered armchair. "Be seated. Dinner will be placed promptly on the table in five minutes. I shall have a servant bring you your wine while we wait."
Bride had never been more self-conscious in her life than she was walking across the room to sit in that chair. This vampire did seem ancient and powerful. Most of all, he was good manners and patrician breeding incarnate.
Valerius moved to an intercom where he pressed a button and did in fact, order her wine.
Once finished, he returned to her side. "I apologize that my house wasn't in order when you arrived."
She looked around the perfectly kept room. "How so?"
"The statuary," he said with only a slight curling of his lip. "You may rest assured that Tony Manero has been properly castigated for his actions." She heard him mutter under his breath, "It's a pity that in this day and age it's illegal to beat your servants."
"Tony Manero?" she asked, amazed a man like Valerius would know the pop culture character from Saturday Night Fever.
"Otto," he said disdainfully. "I still can't believe the Council sent him to me. I asked them for an Italian Squire, not an eye-talian."
Bride burst out laughing. She couldn't help herself. Oh, Valerius had a sense of humor all right. It was just a very dry one.
His face softened a degree at the sound of her laughter, and at that moment, Bride suspected Valerius wasn't as cold and formal as he appeared. That a secret part of him actually liked sharing laughter, but that his icy demeanor kept it all but alien from him.
Fury flashed into the room, just in front of them. Like her, he was still fidgeting with his clothes, which were a bit rumpled.
"Damn," Fury said under his breath. "One day I'm going to master this shit if it kills me." He looked up and blushed as if he weren't aware he'd already arrived. "Sorry I'm late." He cleared his throat and straightened up.
Valerius arched a regal brow at the Were-Hunter.
"You must be Val," Fury said, extending his hand.
"Valerius," he corrected with an arctic glare. He looked with derision at Fury's hand and made no move to take it.
Fury lifted his arm and sniffed at his armpit. "What? I bathed." Shaking his head, Fury tucked both his hands into his pockets. "Otto's right. Someone needs to take that stick out of your ass and beat you with it."
Bride covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing at something Valerius obviously didn't find funny He might like to laugh, but not at himself.
"Excuse me?" Valerius growled, taking a step forward.
"Wine for the lady?"
Bride turned to see an older man dressed in a black coat and tie, entering with a crystal goblet of red wine for her.
Valerius seemed to get himself under control. "Thank you, Gilbert," he said, reverting back to his pompous superiority.
The servant inclined his head. "Would your lordship care for another glass for your new guest?"
Bride could tell that Valerius would rather toss Fury out on his rump, but good manners dictated otherwise. "Yes. But bring it in a bowl."
The servant left to complete his new errand.
"Actually," Fury said, "Bride, I can't really hang here with him looking at me like he's afraid I'm going to piss on his rugs or something. You want to join me for a burger?"
Yes, she did, but there was something about Valerius that said he was wounded by Fury's words. It didn't make sense. Yet there was definitely a degree of hurt hidden in those midnight eyes.
"I think I'll stay."
"Okay, your boredom." Fury flashed out of the room.
"You don't have to stay, Bride," Valerius said quietly. "I'll call for the car and security if you wish to leave."
"No, it's okay, really."
She could have sworn that the air in the room went up at least thirty degrees. Better still, Valerius seemed to relax somewhat over the course of the next two hours. He actually became a bit human.
Bride discovered an extremely funny side to Valerius's views of the modern-day world. She got a full tour of the house and gardens as well as fascinating insights into how Roman royalty lived.
"So this was you?" she asked as they stood outside in his atrium. She was in front of a marble statue of a Roman general in full military regalia. There was no denying the similarity in the facial features between the statue and the man beside her.
"No," he said, his tone chilly for the first time in hours. "He was my grandfather and he was the greatest general of his day." There was pride in his voice, but it was edged by something that sounded strangely close to shame.
"He beat back the Greeks and reclaimed Rome for our people. Indeed, he was the one who destroyed the Macedonian threat and who single-handedly annihilated the greatest Greek general who had ever lived Kyrian of Thrace." Real hatred gleamed in his eyes, but she wasn't sure who it was meant for. His grandfather or Kyrian.
"You mean Kyrian Hunter?" she asked. "The guy with the minivan who lives a few blocks over?"
Valerius's eyes sparked at that. "He's driving a mini-van?" There was no mistaking the humor in his tone.
"Well, yeah. I saw it parked out in front of his house and I know from Tabitha that Amanda drives a Camry."
He didn't say anything else for a few minutes and Bride had no clue as to his mood.
So she gazed up at his grandfather, who commanded attention even centuries later. "You look a lot like him."
"I know and I was expected to follow in his grand footsteps."
"Did you?"