The next day Michael was on his feet. Covered in bandages like an Egyptian mummy in the British Museum but in full recovery. The hardest part had been convincing Alex not to keep him pinned to the bed. Now he sat opposite his brother who was filling him in on the further damage caused by Sabrina.
"It's not your fault," Michael said immediately.
"Yes it is, Mick! Don't be lenient with me. I should have controlled what she was doing, not given her access to all our data..."
"She was your partner. You were going to marry her. It would not have been normal if you had not trusted her."
"I put our heritage at risk."
"But luckily it's still there. Now sit down you're making me nauseous watching you pacing back and forth." Christopher let himself go in the dark leather armchair. "Good. Now I'd like to know how it went with Anthony tonight."
"He already knew about the destruction of the stray shelter, but even that is not enough for him: he wants Nereus' head - and possibly blood - too. He will set out on his trail."
"And you don't like that." Christopher shook his head thoughtfully. "Do you think vampire encroachment on your territory will undermine your role as pack leader? I don't think you should worry about that. We'll sort it out before Anthony and his people can get their fangs on that werewolf."
'I think you underestimate the capabilities of vampires, little brother. And especially Anthony's. He is much older than you and me, and by quite a bit, and also much more deadly than he may seem. He is a warrior - a leader in fact - to be feared."
"How do you know these things about him?"
"Our father warned me. For a short time they even fought on the same side, against the hunters."
Michael nodded. The memory of his father was long gone, but his proud frown was vivid in his memory, as was his head delivered to the castle in Scotland where he and his brothers were staying with their mother for the summer holidays. Killed by a bloody hunter. Him too. The person responsible had been found and killed... after long torture. He had revealed the names of his comrades and the location of their headquarters. It had been a massacre. But it had certainly not brought their father back to life or eliminated the problem. Among humans there existed, and would continue to exist, people convinced that creatures like werewolves, vampires, demons should be wiped off the face of the earth. Stupid superstitions would continue to make people see in them evil and soulless beings. He had long discussed with Christopher whether to publicly declare their existence. But there were many more disadvantages than advantages. In fact, the only advantage would have been to make werewolf hunting legal, and that was certainly not an advantage for them....
"What about you and Alex instead?"
Christopher's voice interrupted his thoughts. A smile surfaced spontaneously on his lips. "I think he won't be leaving for London again."
"I am happy for you, brother. She is a brave woman, as well as stubborn. And I think she really cares for you."
"And I to her."
"Go to her and rest, Mick. I need you to get well soon."
Before returning to his room, however, Michael passed by the infirmary. Andy opened his eyes when he heard him enter.
Michael sat down in the chair next to the bed. "How are you?"
"Same as you, buddy, although I'm apparently taking it easier," she concluded, looking at him. Then he continued, "We're banged up and can't help like this, so try not to be a hero."
Michael squeezed his shoulder and stood up laboriously.
"Do you go to her?"
Michael smiled in response and saw Andy give him a thumbs up before walking out the door.
***
Alex's gaze studied him from head to toe. 'Your face is tired,' he told him.
He smiled and walked over to her. He liked it when she had that frown on her face, when she cared for him: he found it exciting. He reached out his arm and drew her to him, then kissed her. Her taste was sweet and strong, like her. A grunt of pain escaped him, however, when he pressed her against his chest with his arm.
Alex turned away instantly. "I think we'd better wait."
He opened his eyes again. He shook his head. He longed for her. But she was right. There were very few parts of his body that did not ache. He would not have been a good lover. She took him by the hand and led him towards the bed. Resigned, Michael sat up and with slow, painful movements finally managed to lie down. She lay beside him, on her side, her head resting on one hand, her elbow on the pillow.
"We could occupy the time with the rest of the things I still don't know about you."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Or you could tell me something about your long life."
"A good film?"
"OK."