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 nearly killed both of them. Onlyluck and the sudden intervention of Gabriel and Falcone had savedthem. Laura put a hand to her freshly scarred throat. By now ordinaryscars would have healed. These were fading, but slower by far than shehad become used to, with her new regenerated blood accelerating hermetabolism.

Gabriel had killed Borgia, but what about Angelica? What hadhappened to her? Belle was reminded of Angelica every time she triedto use the hand that was no longer there. She carried Jessica's ghostalong with her, and now a physical reminder of the woman's hatred aswell. Some day. Some day, she promised herself.

She remembered waking up in the clinic, horrified at the bandagedstump where her hand used to be. Until she actually saw it for herself,she had hoped against hope it was all a bad dream. Angelica had takenJessica from her, and now a hand.

The reunion with her father, when it came, had been emotionalto say the least. She saw the hurt look in Gabriel's eyes, and she triedto reassure him that none of this was his fault, but ended up sobbingin his arms as he held her against him, letting her emotions expressthemselves in tears as they ran freely down her face.

She used the stump to push back her sunglasses on the bridge of hernose. At least she could do some things with it. The artificial prosthesis,she was definitely not keen on, though it might help her balance anddepth-perception.

"Will you stay here with us? Have you decided yet?" Laura askedher daughter. Belle looked across at her.

"You think this truce with Solomon will hold?" she asked.

"Maybe. Ratti has the respect of the rest of the Council. I trust himmuch more than any of the others. He's promised to leave us alone aslong as Gabriel sends him a pint of blood each year, and he has alreadydone this. It seemed a good enough compromise. Otherwise they leaveus alone, and we leave them alone."

"If that is the case, there is no need to remain in hiding," Bellemused. "It's nice here, but whether I would make it my permanenthome is too early to say. Maybe I'll go back to my modeling," shesuggested, laughing briefly. "Do you know there is one model who hasmetal springs instead of feet? I wonder what they'll make of me withthis?" she held up her stump.

"Don't ..." Laura urged. "It's not something to joke about."

"I'm trying to look on the bright side, `Mother'. There, I called youit. Is that a positive sign?" she forced a strained smile. The anger wasstill there, simmering under the surface.

"Belle, your father and I love you so much. We want you here withus, but only if you want us as your parents. We have so much lost timeto make up for. We've grown up apart, and are still strangers. We needtime together. Don't give up on us too soon," she urged.

"This isn't your fault," she said, holding up the stump of her wrist,"and it's not his fault either. Don't go off on a guilt-trip on my account.If it's anyone's, it's my own stupid fault! I allowed myself to becomecomplacent, allowed myself to get angry. Emotions are your worstenemy in a fight like that. I just couldn't stop that red-mist comingdown. I beat myself," she admitted.

Laura put out a hand to rest on her daughter's shoulder. "If Borgiahadn't drugged you, you'd have beaten her. I know you would," shetried to reassure her.

"But he did drug me, damn it!" She shook her head in frustration."Caught me with one of my own tricks, and I fell for it. All I wanted todo was kill that bitch, and I couldn't see he was setting me up for her."Belle was getting angry again. "One day, Laura," she promised. "Oneday I'll find her, and I'll take my time with her, just like she did withJessica!" she vowed.

"We found you. Maybe we can find Angelica, too," Laura suggested."But don't devote your life to revenge. It's in the past, now. Why notleave it there?"

"I was raised an Italian. Vendetta is in the blood, if not literally inmy own case. I thought she was dead." Belle laughed ruefully. "Did agood job of keeping out of my way in all of my years with the Sword ofSolomon organization. She's good," she admitted. "Finding her won'tbe easy. You found me because I remained in plain sight to draw Gabrielout. She'll have gone to ground now Borgia's dead," Belle cautioned.

"Perhaps Ratti can be persuaded to help? She was Borgia's protégé,"Laura suggested.

"So was I, if you remember. I doubt that Ratti would want to helpme," she glowered. No, revenge was a dish best served cold. She wouldwait and bide her time, she decided inwardly. The two women hated eachother with a vengeance, and they both had a lot of time on their hands,sorry, `hand'. She smiled wryly at her inner joke.

"Well, there are other ways to find people. I never did tell you howwe found you, did I?" Laura mused. Belle turned to regard her mother."Let's go for a drive. The mountain air might do you some good," shesmiled, quizzically, and got up from the lounger.

She reached for her robe, and Belle did the same. Laura put herrobe on, deliberately turning her back so she wouldn't have to seeBelle's struggles to perform so mundane a task. She didn't offer helpbecause she knew Belle would refuse, and be insulted at the offer itself.She had to get used to her disability, in her own time, and in her ownsweet way.

The two women walked back across the lawn towards the house.The terrace window was still open, and they used it to go inside outof the hot Argentine sun. The slight breeze from the ceiling fan feltrefreshing after the heat. It was always cooler indoors with the marblefloors, which took a lot of time to warm up during the day, but gavethe heat out again at night to maintain a nicely average temperature.Here in Buenos Aires, they never really had to worry about inclementweather in the moderate climate all year round.

They went up the ornate staircase to the upper floor where theyeach had bedrooms. Although Laura shared the master bedroom withGabriel, she also had a separate bedroom, albeit with adjoining door,as she needed extra wardrobe space for her clothes. Gabriel was tryingto organize a builder to come and fix things up, but builders werenotorious the world over.

Laura changed into a light tee-shirt and shorts, and then waitedpatiently, listening to the mild curses through the next wall. Shemanaged to refrain from asking her daughter `do you want a hand?'which under the circumstances, would probably not be appreciated.

Five minutes later, Belle appeared in a white silk shirt and tanslacks. "Ready when you are," she announced, finally, and the twowomen went back downstairs, meeting Manuel, who informed themof Gabriel's wish to see them in the lounge.

* * *

The two women followed Manuel along the corridor, to whereGabriel was waiting for them. "Darling, can this wait? We were aboutto go for a spin up in the mountains," Laura announced.

Gabriel looked to Manuel, and then back at the two women,shrugging his shoulders. The change of scenery would do Belle good, hethought, for she had cloistered herself in the villa since arriving in BuenosAires.

"It's waited nearly fifteen hundred years, so I don't see why not.We'll discuss it after dinner tonight, assuming you're going to be backby then," he smiled.

"I'm taking Belle to see Juliana," Laura announced.

"Oh," Gabriel was slightly nonplussed for a moment, but thensmiled once more. "Well, give her my love when you see her, and watchout for that stick of hers," he warned. "The old bat uses it far toofrequently," he joked.

Laura giggled, though Belle felt left out of the conversation. "Don'tworry, she'll like you," Laura reassured her daughter. "It was Julianawho helped us find you. We'll be back for dinner, don't worry," andwith that she linked arms with her daughter, and the two women wentoff, leaving Gabriel and Manuel to make the most of the afternoon bythemselves.

CHAPTER 2

Laura drove the 4x4 with the top down, enjoying thefeel of the wind through her hair. The road through thefoothills was narrowing as it approached the tree-studdedslopes in the distance, but Laura maintained her speed. She liked todrive fast.

"You say she's a witch?" Belle asked her mother.

"Sure seemed like it to me at the time," said Laura. "Don't worry.Juliana took a liking to me, and I'm sure she'll do the same with you.Gabriel met her about forty years ago," she explained. "He and Luciferrescued her from some nastiness with the previous military junta. Herhusband was executed, I believe. Since then she prefers to live a lifeof seclusion up there in the mountains. Just an old shack by a stream,with no electricity or modern conveniences. That's how she likes it, Iguess."