BA is happening

I spent much of today lounging in my bed, writing on Blood Angel. This section, titled Franz, will be where Léonidès is told he may not turn Franz and, while trying to figure out why begins to see the man is not as perfect as his amazing looks suggest. 

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The Oiym said no. 

I’d sent them a simple telegram: Nethys, have found a mate. Congratulations? Leonides. 

Nethys was the de facto head of the Oiym Council, and I needed their permission to make the beautiful Franz Sebastian Giselher von Bergren my mate. 

I received the following response: Denied. We will arrive soon. 

Denied!? I could not believe it. The rules that I had developed and convinced the Oiym to follow were now being used against me, and they were coming to make certain I followed their edict? I was livid. 

And terrified. Because this was new territory for me. What I’d heard from others, all simple vampires, was they had to feed until true death, no turning without permission. Anything less would be considered a violation of the edict and bring about imprisonment in their fortress. An edict I had helped arrange. 

That made me fear for Franz. If I was not allowed to bring him into my world, I wanted to make certain he would be well in his own. But the fact they were coming to see me...and, probably, him...was surely to question him and make certain for themselves that he was not a danger to us. Why else would they depart Alexandria to enter a war zone? It wasn’t just for the cuisine. 

What little he knew about me was...well, he thought I was a fellow German, and never mind my Norman lineage. I’d spoken to him as if from Hamburg. I’d helped him and his mount, Grünnald. I’d treated him with full politeness and probably saved his life. Anything he might remember about my removing the bullet from his shoulder or carrying him to my chateau could be explained away as delirium from his injuries. 

But the Oiym were less understanding than I, when it came to humans. Less forgiving or flexible. And if they had even one iota of concern about his awareness of our world, he would be ended. Better safe than sorry, as the phrase goes. I could not allow that. 

But how could I prevent it? There were seven of them, all much more powerful Blood Angels than I. No question, if I went against them I’d wind up in one of the cells in their Alexandria, and my pack would be left to fend for itself. 

Or worse—handed over to my sister, Gabrielle. Another possibility I could not allow.