CHAPTER 1

Gabriel looked out of his study window, onto the spaciouslawn beneath, where Laura and Belle lounged on sun-beds,talking, and enjoying the hot Argentine sun. It had beenmere weeks, yet the stump of Belle's hand was now fully healed over.The girl, if girl she could be called at her actual age, still didn't knowwhat to make of it. Automatically, she still went to use it as though thehand was still there, where it had been for more than sixty years, andcursing when she realized it was not. A trick the nerve-endings playedon the body.

Gabriel could still `feel' his own wings, though in fact they hadbeen severed from his body almost two thousand years ago. Hisshoulder-blades still twitched occasionally, the muscle-groupings stillthere and still eager to exercise, yet they would never know such exerciseagain.

He had given Belle's problem much thought over the last fewweeks. A physiotherapist had been booked to help his daughteracclimatize herself to her lost limb, and an artificial prosthesis had beencommissioned. Belle was ambidextrous, like her father, and so couldstill write, but reading was something she now had to do one-handed,as were most of the other things in life she had taken for granted, suchas washing and dressing herself etc. Even fastening a pair of jeans onehanded was awkward and a chore.

Going over to one of the paintings on the wall of his study, Gabrielpulled it on its hinges away from the wall, revealing the hidden safebehind it. Fingers twirled the combination lock this way and that, untilthe final click was heard, and then Gabriel pushed the tumbler inwards,releasing the final lock, before operating the handle, and drawing theheavy door open.

Inside this safe, Gabriel did not keep money or documents, but itdid indeed contain treasure of a sort. He drew out the shiny segmentedmetal belt, scepter and amulet, which had gathered dust in there sincethe safe was first installed.

Gabriel had first obtained these articles over 1500 years ago, andhad kept them in various secure establishments over the years, but hadrecently had them scientifically examined in one of the many researchlabs he secretly funded. The findings had been vague enough bythemselves, but put together with what Gabriel knew of their origins,and a very different picture emerged.

The dull coppery-looking metal plates of the belt were some sortof solar panels, though the metal itself remained unidentified. X-raysrevealed inner-circuitry. A simple switch on the side of the bucklecaused the belt to vibrate. Gabriel had measured the frequency of thevibrations. Presumably whoever was wearing the belt at the time wouldalso be made to vibrate at that same frequency, though he had yet to trythe effect upon himself.

The amulet also had a switch, a small depression on its underside,hardly big enough for a fingertip, which when pressed caused a suddenburst of radiation lasting barely a millisecond. Gabriel could only guessat its function. The rest of the necklace seemed purely ornamental.

The small scepter-like wand was a complex little device, withnumerous settings. Broken now, yet perhaps it could be repaired by`someone' with the right knowledge. Certainly, human science couldn'trepair it.

All these items had been stolen by Gabriel from their former owner,who had valued them quite highly, and it was Gabriel's firm hope thathe valued them still. They were Gabriel's only hope of obtaining his aidin restoring Belle's hand. Gabriel had brought the severed hand back toArgentina with him, and it resided in a basement facility, maintainedat a constant sub-zero temperature. It could be stored indefinitely ifneed be, but it was Gabriel's hope that it could be re-attached withinweeks.

"I haven't seen those for a while," Manuel commented, as hebrought a tray of coffee into Gabriel's study. Gabriel smiled wistfully.

"Stolen property, Manuel. I hear there is a reward for their return.I just hope the owner doesn't hold their theft against the thief," hemused, a wry grin momentarily appearing on his face.

Manuel put down the tray on the desk, and poured his master acup of coffee. The little twinge in his back meant he was feeling hisage, though still generally sprightly for a 54 year old. Gabriel addedthe cream himself. "You never did tell me all the details, Sir," Manuelprompted.

He regarded Gabriel, as he gave the suggestion thought. Gabrielnever looked or felt his true age, and Manuel had just a tinge ofjealousy. Over two thousand years old, his Master looked no olderthan a human in his late thirties. Olive skin, and black hair, gave hima Mediterranean appearance, which fitted in well here, in Argentina.Average height added to that appearance meant he could fit in justabout anywhere, without standing out in the crowd, which was howhe preferred it.

"Details escape me, Manuel. It was a long time ago. Perhaps I needto refresh my memory." He took a sip from the coffee, and ruminatedfor a few moments, savoring the strong caffeine.

"Regression?" Manuel asked. Hypnosis was one of Manuel's manyskills, and had been employed to regress Gabriel on a few occasions,when his master wished to recall details of former events in his long-livedlife. Gabriel nodded. "Do you want both Madame Laura and Belle tosit in on the session?" Gabriel frowned at the suggestion.

"I'm not very good at `sharing', am I, Manuel?" he criticized himself."That character-flaw was partly responsible for the two of them gettingin too deep with Borgia. Perhaps this time it might be best if theylearnt a thing or two about my past," he reached a decision.

"I still remember some of the things you told me. You're notseriously thinking of going back over there? I still don't understandhow you did it the first time, or how you got back in one piece. IfMalevar is still alive, he's not one of your biggest fans. He tried to killyou, remember?"

"I remember. But if he's the only one who can help Belle, I have togo to him. Whatever his price, I'll pay it."

* * *

Out on the lawn, the two women in Gabriel's life were sunbathingby the pool. Laura had her blonde hair down, after a swim, and it wasstill matted as it dried out in the hot sun. Belle's jet black hair was a giftfrom her father, naturally sleek and shiny. The water had matted thecurled perm, though it was slowly drying out as she lay there.

Gabriel's daughter looked in her late twenties, and Laura onlyslightly older, though each was much older. Laura didn't like beingreminded of her true age. There was still a hint of vanity there, thoughshe was happy enough with her appearance, which showed no sign ofthe passing years. Belle was in fact born in the Second World War, andLaura had seen that war at first hand.

Belle was trying to read a magazine, and getting frustrated everytime she wanted to turn over a page, which necessitated putting itdown on her lap, physically turning the page over, and then picking itup again. It was the simple things she had taken for granted which werecausing her fits of temper, cursing at her own stupidity, and cursing thething called Angelica that had done this to her.

Beside her, Laura could only watch her daughter in silence, and shetried to do it discreetly. Belle didn't want sympathy from anyone. Shejust wanted to get on with her life. Gabriel had promised if there wasa way to restore her hand, then he would do whatever was required tomake it happen.

The vampire they had fought had...