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I sat in the grass leaning against one of the large oak trees that surrounded the manor while Azrael organized the Imperial Guard and Sentinels, and watched as the Wizards organized their teleportation spells.

It was cute watching the more modest and humbled Sentinels that were bested by the Blood Whores get patched up by them while they asked for instruction on how to counter the types of attacks they used or how to execute them themselves.

Never did I think I'd see that!

Those that possess humility and understanding, that didn't look down their noses, like I had, at the profession that some of the most talented magic users in our world chose, made them special and worthy of being called a Guardian.

Truth is, I am ashamed of myself for my prejudicial snobbery, and it is something I would spend the rest of my life making amends for.

The alone time was nice, it was the first I've had since all of this excessive drama started.

No one would give me a chance to simply sit and do nothing, to not think about anything, and to not do anything other than breathe. It was nonstop concern and questions about my well-being, and they never seemed to end regardless of my answer, which was irritating because all I wanted was mind-numbing silence.

My attention went from the Wizards to the tall Vampire heading towards me.

His longer hair blew away from him as his purposeful strides closed the distance between us.

Zane is right, Viggo does have that romance novel cover-windblown look to him when the wind is in his hair.

"That was a quickie," I commented when Viggo joined me, sitting on the grass next to me. "I figured a professional would have better stamina, I know you have a ridiculous amount of stamina, but sparring might be different than sex," I said, sounding contemplative.

Viggo gave me a look. "I am not entirely sure what that statement is supposed to mean and where this conversation is going, and I am honestly scared to ask," he admitted.

That we can agree on.

"Speaking of your paid sex life is the last thing I want to do or think about," I agreed.

Viggo started laughing. "You cannot be serious," he said between bouts of laughter.

Apparently, his sex life was a joke after all and that was why he had to pay for it.

"So a micro-penis it is!" I cheerfully said.

Viggo shook his head, wiping the tears of amusement from his eyes. "You are ridiculous. Do you truly believe I was having sex with Majandra?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I read in a book once about soul-bound thaumaturgy, and the way to heal it when the Light is fading or it is damaged is through a form of physical-"

"Sex?" he interrupted since I didn't want to say it.

I nodded. "Majandra had commented more than once that your soul was damaged and your Light was fading because of something you had done. And since you are a Prince of a higher opinion of himself and standard, it only makes sense that you would only want the best, and a paid professional would be the best, right? She is beautiful and cultured."

Viggo made a face, shaking his head. "You are truly disturbing sometimes."

"What does o anipsiós mou mean?" I asked. "I think she was referring to you when she said it."

He gave me a look. "It is Greek for my nephew. Majandra is my biological aunt. Did you not see the family resemblance?" he asked.

No, I hadn't noticed.

Obviously, I was blinded by unfounded jealousy or I was tripping out on the magical mud and completely missed what was right in front of me.

"Majandra is not a Vampire and yet she looks so young and has a darker complexion but you are pale!" I said.

"My mother was not a Vampyre and was not pale either," Viggo informed me. "My father is a Vampyre and French, and pale. I got his complexion. The other side of my family tree is Greek. Majandra is a healer and in her toying with healing thaumaturgy she learned to erase the age from her face and body, but it is still inside. She will look that beautiful until she dies, which almost happened."

"Because of me," I surmised.

"My aunt is alive because of you, but why would you assume that what happened was because of you?" he asked, his attention on the horizon.

"Everything that has transpired, that I accused you of being the source of, has happened because of me," I said, closing my eyes. "Don't insult my intelligence, Prince de Babineaux," I warned; I knew he was about to argue with me. "I might be dense when it comes to whores and family resemblances, but I'm not stupid. If I hadn't been in Seattle, all of those Wights and Practitioners would still be alive. If I weren't at the Academy, those in the Healing Center would still be alive."

Viggo took my hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You cannot take responsibility for the actions of those consumed by Devilry," he reminded me.

"The healing pools at the hospital were contaminated just as the ones in the Healing Center at the Academy were," I said. "It scares me whether or not they know if your aunt is in the area, only a teleportation away, and with an uncompromised healing pool. If they didn't know then, they might know now, and that will put her and her people at risk."

"That is an understandable reason for concern," Viggo admitted. "However, my aunt is not stupid and knows that if you were forced to utilize her healing services as you had, that means they are not safe. The manor will be relocated once we leave," he said. "Majandra will look into it in a way that the Imperial Guard cannot, and that may prove useful."

I opened my eyes and looked over at him. "What do you mean?"

"Majandra's book of business contains the names of some of the most powerful people in the world of Thaumaturgy and beyond," he explained. "Those in her business, it is more than just sex. From what I understand, most of the time it is simply about listening or just talking, or taking away the power and control that powerful people have for just a night. She will exploit what she must to find answers because if someone is targeting you, that means they are targeting her nephew as well. And that, she will not permit it to happen," he said the latter in a cold, detached tone.