8. Chapter 7

Of all the things she could have remembered, it had to be this. I cursed. I had begged her forgiveness for it long ago and had reveled in her granting it. It seemed like I needed to beg again. I smiled. That would be easy. I was overjoyed she was here and would do anything to keep her by my side. If I had to beg her on my knees, if I had to crawl over hot coals, I would.

"You don't remember anything else?" I asked.

"Like what?" she replied with a good amount of suspicion.

I deserve that , I supposed.

"What do you know of me? Why did you hold me prisoner?"

That, at least, I could answer. "My brother was supposed to haggle a deal with your father. They were going to take you to the Brocken—"

"The what?"

"The Brocken, it's the highest mountain in Northern Germany," I explained. I gave her a questioning glance, and she waved her hand for me to continue.

"I simply intercepted you," I finished.

"By intercepting, you mean abduct?" she clarified.

"Yes."

She widened her eyes in exasperation, "Why?"

"Because my brother and I had a thing going. Jealousy, competition, sibling rivalry, whatever negativity comes to mind between brothers, we felt it for one another. I decided to show my father that I would have been the better choice in taking you to the Brocken."

A smile washed over my face at the memory of it. Come to think of it, Adramalech had been the far better choice of taking Blanche to the Brocken because I failed. I fell in love with her. Once I did, there was no question of whether she would go to the Brocken or not. She was MINE, and I was ready to die for her. Which I almost did after I failed and thought I had lost her. Nothing had mattered to me then anymore.

"What is so special about the Brocken?" she asked, and I hoped we had stirred away from the more dangerous territory, namely my father and brother.

"Walpurgisnacht is held there every year at the end of April," I explained.

"Walpurgisnacht?"

I nodded. "It's the night the dark realm opens to the world, and the witches celebrate on top of the mountain."

"Why would they want me there?" I should have known better than to think she would let it go. I figured, though, that she could handle the answers as long as she kept asking questions.

"You were supposed to mate my father there."

"Mate your father?" I still felt sick when I thought about what they had in mind for her. For my sweet, innocent Blanche. She, who could never hurt anybody.

"As in marry him?"

I shook my head and waited for her to form her own conclusions. "Your father wanted me to… lie with him?"

I smirked. Wherever she had been these last four hundred years, she hadn't been exposed to the world.

"And my father was alright with this?"

I hated to hurt her. She told me a long time ago that her and her father had a strained relationship but that she was trying hard to be the good daughter and make him see that she was worth his love.

"My father promised yours incredible power, something he wasn't able to resist."

"What kind of power?"

"The kind that would have made him King of the World," I answered honestly.

"Who is your father?" Came the predictable question.

"The Devil."

"No, I mean… you are being serious?" Her eyes widened, "So it wasn't a dream or a hallucination… you really are… a… a… demon?" She crossed herself. I had forgotten this about her. There had been times when I called her Saint Blanche because her belief in God and all the priests' teachings could sometimes be… aggravating. Now, it made me smile.

"Demon prince if you want to be precise," I corrected her. "Demons are more my father's… minions."

"Oh, forgive me," she declared sarcastically. There she was, my little flame. As sweet and innocent as she could be, she also had a temperamental side, which I loved to tease out of her. When she forgot for a minute that she was a lady and devout, my little flame could turn into an inferno that burned so hot I melted in her arms. My cock stirred at the memories of all the times I turned her unladylike.

"Sorry for the interruption, boss, but we have company." Brock entered, interrupting our little tête-à-tête.

"Who is it?"

"A very pissed-off man who says he's her father, a Sir Jonathan Montfort."

"My… father?" Blanche rose, her pale complexion turning even whiter.

"Don't worry, I'll—"

"He's not alone." Brock interrupted.

I arched an eyebrow at him.

"He brought a small army, all armed to the teeth." He said with a smirk and a wink.

"How many?" I bit out.

"Around fifty."

"Next time, lead with that," I scolded, and he shrugged. Not much fazed him since he had been turned into a demon.

My mind furiously worked. It was still daytime.

"They're vampires!" I exclaimed, "How can they—"

A slight whimper from Blanche distracted me. "It's alright. You have nothing to fear, little flame."

"They're wrapped in suits and helmets," Brock explained patiently like you do to a child. I threw an irritated glance at him. He smirked and shrugged his shoulders, and I let it be.

"Alright, we have what? Ten, fifteen guards? The four of you. Me. That should be enough to take out a few vampires."

"No, I don't want you to fight." Blanche readied herself. "I'll go with him."

"Not happening," I told her. "The gates are locked?" I asked Brock.

"They won't hold long."

"Devon, please. I don't want anybody to die because of me," Blanche protested.

I pulled her against me to reassure her and ensure she didn't do anything foolish, like give herself over to her father.

"We can have you and her on the chopper in minutes," Brock suggested.

"Take the humans down into the secret passages," I ordered.

"He will know where they are," Brock argued since it was Jonathan DeVille's castle that I had brought here.

"He will, but he won't know how to activate the new mechanism," I pointed out. The security doors I installed only reacted to certain eye scans before they opened. They were made from heavy metal, so strong that not even a hundred vampires could penetrate them.

Brock was already speaking into his phone to Cantor, if I had to guess.

Blanche looked terrified, and I weighed my options. Should I confront her father now or wait until later? After we had more opportunities to speak. This was all new to her. Her memories were still more holes than threads, and I didn't want to overwhelm her. I didn't even want to consider how she would handle knowing that she had been turned into a vampire. She had been such a devout woman. I was sure it would break her heart. It made mine ache, a strange sensation after all these years of it laying dormant inside my chest. I suppose I should have been grateful that, in the end, my father gave it back to me, even if it didn't work for a long time.

Just like vampires, demons didn't need a heart to beat or lungs to breathe. That mine had awakened after I met Blanche again was a small miracle. Which reminded me of how strong she was. She would be able to deal with this too.

"I will speak to him," I finally decided. "Brock, take Blanche to the basement and protect her with your life."

"What? No!" Blanche protested as I gently pushed her into Brock's arms.

"It will all be well," I promised, kissing her forehead and abruptly leaving the room before she had time to recover from her shock.