Chapter 15: A Coming of Age

August, 1988

My tale would, I suppose, be more interesting were I to go on about my exciting new life after the arrival of Paul and Hestia. That was not, however, how things went following my first two weeks at Eoin's country estate. I calmed down and, after a few fits and starts, a routine settled in rather quickly. Paul and Hestia divided my days between them, Paul teaching me to be an Australian girl in the mornings and Hestia teaching me the complicated arcana of polite society's mannerisms in the afternoon. Hestia also spent a few hours every other day in the evenings instructing me in the Chinese art of Chi Gung. Unlike my other studies into the martial arts, Chi Gung was almost more an internal art than external, though there was a lot of physical training to go with it. Hestia's lessons turned my focus inward, showing me how to harness the power of my chi, increasing my control and power at the same time. While I found my doings fascinating, I long ago learned others do not and so I shall move right along and get to more interesting matters.

School began that fall and Eoin and I moved back to his London townhouse located in the Chelsea section of the city. He enrolled me in the Hanoverian Academy (short for the Academy of the House of Hanover, established by a relative of King George I to let his son assimilate into English culture easier), a grand old school in the Kingston upon Thames neighborhood of London, near Kingston University. One of Eoin's drivers drove me to and from school each day. The Hanoverian was a boarding school, but most of those students living in the London area whose parents cared often commuted and it was a good half-hour, forty-five minute drive in rush hour traffic from Eoin's Chelsea townhouse. The House of Spencer was like those American families who have sent generation after generation of their scions to Andover and other such prestigious schools in the U. S. A Spencer has gone to the Hanoverian every generation since its founding during the later part of George I's reign. It was an all-male institution back during Eoin's time there but it went coed in the late 1970's. William was in his last year there before heading off to Cambridge or Oxford.

I also found that there was a reason Eoin loved his family's Chelsea flat: Chelsea abounded with Americans living in London for business and diplomatic reasons. Thankfully, none I knew or who knew of me. And while it was nice to hear a familiar accent every now and then on the streets of the neighborhood, I mainly avoided the American neighbors. Actually, aside from a few girls I drifted with at Hanover, I kept to myself. I was simply too busy to find friends outside of school. I found myself in the same situation in England as I was in when moving from Missouri to Virginia. It took me nearly an entire term before I was caught up to Hanover's exacting standards. By Christmas break I was cruising again.

The 1988-1989 school year flashed by and before I knew it I was thirteen. Of course, with my change in name came a change in birthday as well. I could no longer celebrate my birthday on the Fourth of July. I was still a Cancer, however, as Alice Spencer-Killdare was born on the twenty-fifth of June in Sydney. For my birthday, Eoin's mother took me shopping again, still trying to deck me out in the height of lady-like fashion. Per Eoin's suggestion, I always allowed Lady Spencer (or grandmother, as I called her) or Lady Ancen (Elizabeth, William's mother) to buy me a few feminine outfits to go with my otherwise very preppy, very boyish personal style. I still owned jeans and sweats, I just rarely wore them. This was partly out of an attempt at disguise, contrasting with Alexa's rather grubby and rundown wardrobe, and partly because I could now afford nice-looking clothes that were well-made and felt good. Not that it mattered much because few people ever saw me dressed that way. Hanover was still very formal and more than a little old fashioned. Therefore, I was required to wear a royal blue skirt and blazer with red piping and gold buttons. The Hanoverian Dynastic coat of arms was embroidered on the blazer pocket and I now owned a closet full of skirts, blazers, and white silk button-down dress blouses, all of which made concealing weapons on my person a challenge.

During grandmother's and my shopping expedition, I did allow her to buy me a couple of ankle-length skirts and some summer-weight blouses. The uniform had done what my dad's sad looks could not: it helped me find a balance between my tomboy self and my feminine exterior. Of course, the downside was I looked even cuter dressed up in girl's clothes than I normally did, making me look even more like thug-bait.

Following a long day bouncing around the shops with Lady Spencer, we went out to celebrate my birth. Eoin, William, Lady Ancen, Hestia, and Paul all joined us for dinner at the Waterside Inn as clouds moved in to cover the setting sun. And while Ambrose was taking a night off being guard dog for family reasons, we had a Land Rover full of security people following us to the restaurant to make sure we were safe.

The Waterside Inn was a nice, upscale restaurant with succulent food located in the village of Bray, outside of London. Eoin loved the place and I had the best rabbit I had ever eaten to that point in my life and for many years after. We all looked forward to a nice evening of fine food and excellent conversation. By that time, my "accent" was beginning its inexorable slide towards being more English than Australian and I probably would have had to work at sounding American.

While I looked forward to being a teenager, I soon found what most kids find when they can finally add the suffix "-teen" to the end of their age, namely that little concrete changes. Adults might give you a little more in the way of responsibility, expect a little more from you, grant you a few more privileges, but other than that, little changes.

I suppose I should have been more alert to trouble than I was that night, but it had been almost a full year since the strange denizens of the Dark impinged upon my life. Complacency had set in and routine dulled once sharp senses alert to trouble. Besides, we were enjoying each other's company to the fullest. It was the first time in a long time that I had felt, really felt, like part of a family.

The first sign that I should, in retrospect, have noticed was the overly obsequious maitre d' who fawned appropriately over Eoin, Elizabeth, and Lady Spencer. The wrong note in his act, looking back, was his joyous subservience to me upon learning I was Eoin's niece celebrating a birthday while his deep blue, nearly purple, eyes burned into us with an almost manic triumph that I mistook for greed. I thought it was the greed of someone thinking of the gratuity Eoin would leave. I saw that sort of thing often when Eoin took me (or William and me, more often) out to eat. Grandmother got that kind of treatment even more than Eoin did, namely because she was notorious in London for overtipping good service and not tipping bad service at all. That is no excuse, though. The maitre d' should have had my senses humming. My only consolation on that count was that both Paul and Hestia missed it as well.

Hint number two was even more obvious and the fact that three predators (Paul, Hestia, and myself) and the security Ambrose had watching from the outside did not see it was truly shameful. Not even the excuse that they were smart and eased into position over the course of nearly an hour was a good enough justification for missing it. We arrived at the Waterside Inn around six p.m. and were seated by five after six. By seven we were enjoying our delicious meal. By quarter after seven I should have recognized the second sign of trouble beginning to position themselves. Over the course of our being seated, ordering drinks, salads, appetizers, and meals, all of the people who had been sitting and eating were quietly rushed about their meal and quickly allowed to leave. New diners, those with reservations, were turned away and a new, quite different set of people began filling the restaurant. By the time our entrées arrived, I should have felt all of those eyes on me, their gazes heavy and palpably unfriendly. When I finally did realize trouble was calling, the air was thick with the weight of their attention.

That, however, did not come until well after the third sign that I was in danger appeared, namely the arrival of the boss of the little ambush party that descended upon the Waterside Inn. I did notice his arrival, I was not completely oblivious. Our eyes locked across the expanse of the elegantly laid out dining room when I felt him enter the restaurant and he nodded to me with an ironic smile, putting me at my ease. I thought he might be like Lars, a monster but not a fanatic about it. Someone willing to let us both go about our lives without intruding our issues on each other. He watched me watch him stroll to a table with eight seats, the other seven already occupied by a mixed group of men and women I had already been ignoring as normal. Since his arrival did not occasion anything else out of the ordinary, I went back to savoring each and every mouthful of the rabbit dish making my tongue oh so very happy.

The danger finally penetrated my obliviousness when Ambrose arrived, rushing into the restaurant, pushing the maitre d' out of his way, and marching towards us with purposeful pace, pleasant smile, and panic-stricken eyes that locked on Eoin, who immediately stiffened and looked around before locking gazes with me. That made me scan the room, my senses shocked into brutal sharpness as they told me how stupid I had been. All eyes, except those belonging to my little foster family, were now on me, including those of the now wickedly grinning man, a skinny, pale gentleman of slightly above average height, muscular build, iron gray hair I suddenly realized was slicked back and caught in a pony tail. His lustrous green eyes almost hurt in the sharpness of their gaze upon me as prey and his elegantly classical features now struck me as obviously not English but a very pale Mediterranean. Those vibrant jade orbs held a weight of years that made me sure that the teeth he was hiding despite the grin would be pointed and had probably snacked on the subjects of the Caesars.

Ambrose stumbled to a stop opposite Eoin and gulped, trying to still his heavy breath. "Lord Spencer, your pardon, but we were tipped off to a threat to your security, sir," his normally rough voice said softly with a slight hint of bafflement. "The police are on the way as well to help me escort you back home. The Home Secretary has been alerted through Gower Street. MI5 thinks it might be IRA Provos," he told his boss, the look in his eyes significant.

Eoin's eyes widened and he looked around the restaurant before resting on me. "How did we all miss this lovely little predicament?" the suave nobleman quipped to me, then flicking the question at Paul and Hestia.

"My guess?" Hestia offered with a bitterly wry smile, her eyes flicking around the restaurant. "We got too comfortable in our routine."

Paul nodded ruefully, his eyes also darting around. "Routine," he spat angrily, his jaw clenching. Unlike Hestia, I learned over the year that Paul was my Australian tutor and then sparring partner that he was very tightly wound and had little in the way of a sense of humor about life's little surprises. It was probably that intense, pessimistic character trait that made him plan for the worst and served him well in the Australian Special Forces, then as a very well-off security consultant. "Routine kills more people than just about anything else in our business. I think only stupidity might top it."

By this point in the conversation, grandmother, Lady Ancen, and William had begun to realize something was wrong. Seriously wrong.

"Eoin, what the hell is going on?" Lady Ancen inquired in a falsely light tone, her smile fixed and hard as were her eyes.

Eoin flashed his dazzling smile on his ex-wife. "A little bit of a security issue, dear," he told her placatingly. "Nothing to worry about, Elizabeth. Ambrose and the police will have everything under control."

Off in the distance, we could hear the blaring shriek of police sirens getting closer and the pounding thwap-thwap of a helicopter thudding nearer. I looked across at the gentleman in charge of this descending circus and he was still grinning. He leaned over his table and said something to one of his companions. She nodded and rose. She was a stunningly gorgeous woman, the type of woman other woman watch cross a room while they gnaw on their livers. She was wearing a figure-hugging, floor-length gown of slinky white silk that left nothing to the imagination, including the length and firmness of the nipples that every male in the restaurant watched come swaying towards us despite the situation. Her face was heart-shaped and sculpted along classical lines, making you sure that Helen of Troy looked something like her. Her eyes were flashing honey brown and her curly hair looked natural and lustrous framing those Hellenic features. She grinned as she felt all of those eyes on her and I saw her teeth were also slightly pointed. Her grin widened when she noticed I had noticed.

She slinked model-like across the dining room, her body doing impossibly interesting things inside that white silk, to stand at Ambrose's shoulder and looking down at Eoin while really talking to me. "My Master commends you, Lord Spencer and wonders if he might have a word with your niece," she asked, her voice a husky timbre made for the bedroom with just enough of an accent to let you know she was not from around here but not enough of one to tell you from whence she came. "He assures you nothing will occur tonight. Tonight was for ... education purposes only. A test, if you will."

Eoin looked across the table at me and I nodded, sliding my chair out and flicking a glare at the sexy vampire. Her smile waned a little and she turned around to slink back to her master, me trailing an arm length and a half back, shoulders tightening to remind myself that the knives were there for a reason despite my not having to use them in almost a year. All eyes watched me cross the restaurant to the table of what I now knew to be vampires. How they all hid their natures from me long enough to get into position, I do not know and that worried me. A lot.

The gentleman hosting this little educational get-together smiled up at me as I approached the table. He rose and bowed before seating himself again and flicking a hand at one of his minions seated across the table from him, who immediately rose and walked around the table to stand behind him.

"Please, my Lady, sit," he invited urbanely. "We may find ourselves as opponents, but that should not preclude courtesy when we find ourselves with time and opportunity to chat. The humans should not get here for another five minutes or so; I had some colleagues arrange some obstruction to give us time to talk."

I looked at the others at the table and pulled the chair out far enough that I could tip it over backwards if I needed room to maneuver. I was now very glad I resisted Grandmother's attempts to get me to wear one of the ankle-length skirts she bought me to dinner. Instead, I was dressed in a sensuously soft pair of silk pants of a burgundy shade with a white satin top and a lacy-cuffed, brown overshirt. My stylish brown leather half boots were brushed to a fine shine and the silver tip on them was even more welcomed tonight than usual.

"It is obvious you know what I am, just as I know what you are, but I have not heard you use my name," I began cautiously, "so I can only assume you merely know who I say I am."

He chuckled appreciatively and gave me a polite golf-clap. "Very good. Young as you are, you know how to play the game," he said with honest delight, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "So few Bloody Hands know how to play properly even by the time their death comes. That alone tells me you are something special. Perhaps special enough that hiding you early was a necessity. My employer does not know who you are, my Lady, but I know certain others with whom you have already played. They look for you still, though even their immortal patience is wearing thin. They have gotten to the point of ceasing an active search and merely levied a bounty upon your adorable head.

"My employer, however, wants you himself and he is powerful enough to be permitted to not play well with others," he informed her more seriously. "He looked around for you for quite some time before finding someone who had seen you. And once he knew where to look, finding you was not hard. He is limited, however, in the arena in which he is allowed to play. For now, you are safe from him. Thusly were we employed to scout you. You have grown comfortable in this guise, my Lady. Perhaps too comfortable? You are young, however, so do not flagellate yourself too harshly. Take this as a lesson to be inculcated."

I glared at him. "And why would you try to teach me to be more aware of your kind?" I demanded irritably, the lesson smarting my pride. "Your kind has done naught but try to kill me for as long as I can remember."

A secretive gleam twinkled in his eyes. "And perhaps even for as long as you cannot remember, my Lady?" he suggested knowingly before shaking his head. "Never mind that. I have the bad habit of playing with my food and you are not to be food. At least not for me. You escaped my employer a year ago, shrugging off his influence more easily than anyone has in more than a millennium. This would normally intrigue him but at the same time you insulted him by killing in his demesne, which is not permitted. It sets bad precedents if he lets people kill on his lands without his leave and without paying tribute to him. So, here we are. He wished to see how much you have progressed and if we could find any weaknesses to exploit.

"And what do we find, but a tableful of weaknesses!" he exclaimed with mock surprise and a wicked gleam in those jade eyes. The sound of sirens, which had not been getting any closer, was suddenly closing the distance and the helicopter with them. The vampire sighed with mock regret. "I fear that is the sound of our evening cut short, my Lady. Rest assured, we will meet again."

With that, the entire population of the restaurant except Eoin's table rose and began to calmly file out of the building. The vampire smiled down at me as I jerked to my feet warily. "By the way, my dear, my name is Alexandrios of Byzantium," he said with an elegant bow. "I would say your name, but I would not want it flying away on the night to those whose ears await its uttering. We shall get to know one another better next time, perhaps when night has not such a firm grip and in a place with fewer windows. Bid my farewells to your uncle and his family, if you would. I must go."