"Is it London?"

"Is what London?" Patrick looked ahead at the Circus lights and wondered why on earth he had agreed to walking. The sticky mud beneath his boots made a sucking noise that was about to drive his sensitive ears mad.

"Don't pretend like you don't understand!"

Patrick glanced at his companion in surprise and saw her face pale.

"I am sorry Leader, I meant no disrespect." Elisabeth bowed her head, her eyes glowing red under the shade of her flowery hat. Patrick barely restrained a sigh of irritation as he came to a stop himself. With her long golden locks, pale blue eyes and lush red lips, Elisabeth was one of the most beautiful Vampires he had ever met, but her games bored him.

"I have told you countless times you can speak your mind to me Elisabeth."

She did not lift her head. "You are the leader of the Northern Clan, I can not gainsay you and yet I can not speak to you as if you were...ordinary."

Laugh it off and move on, Patrick told himself. But he could not. It was always the same. He would meet a beautiful woman, feel the excitement of the chase and then... then their schemes would begin.

"Tell me what you meant Elisabeth." It was a direct order, one she would not be able to refuse as his subject.

Elisabeth raised her pretty face to his coyly. "I was just wondering what it was that made you unhappy Leader. Perhaps our London does not compare to your Scottish highlands."

In truth Patrick did miss Scotland; the fresh cold mountain air, mirror-like lochs and plain speaking people. But he liked London just fine.

"Elisabeth, what is this actually about?" Patrick pulled his hand through his dark, unruly hair and waited for her to choose her words. Elisabeth had been acting strange of late and he was through indulging her moody ways.

"I just noticed that you were unhappy lately and thought..."

"Elisabeth." Patrick cut her off with a frown. What was wrong with the chit? "Tell me the truth or nothing at all."

"It is the Blessed one, she tells lies about me to one and all!" Elisabeth's eyes glittered with unshed tears as she spat the accusation at him.

Although he should have been relieved that she had finally told him what was truly on her mind, Patrick found himself wishing he had said nothing. Angelica slandering the innocent? The Princess abhorred gossip, it just wasn't her style. 

"I am sure you are mistaken Elisabeth. Angelica has better things to do than spread lies about you. She is carrying a Blessed child."

"I am not mistaken I tell you!"

While normally he would have enjoyed her spirit, the spiteful expression on Elisabeth's face made her look ugly. What had he seen in her? Patrick could not seem to recall any reason for their relationship as he watched her calculating eyes. What was she after?

"Tell me then how you are so certain."

"She said that she saw me in a compromising state with the marques of Ludington," Elisabeth said with derision. "As if I would ever entertain the notion of bedding a human!"

Patrick nodded as though he agreed, then took a step forward and held Elisabeth's chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"You are lying."

"I am not! Truly, I would not!" She tried to pull away from him, but he cupped her head with his hands and smiled pleasantly.

"Now, what gave you the impression you could lie to me Elisabeth?"

She blinked up at him with something akin to fear in her eyes. Patrick did not care at that moment if she was scared. Her fear stemmed from her own stupidity; he would never hurt her or anyone else without real provocation.

"So you want me to believe Angelica is spreading lies about you. Why? Or are you worried perhaps that I will hear this from someone else?"

Surprise was evident on her countenance now, and Patrick grimaced. The answer to all the useless intrigue was becoming evident and making him feel foolish.

"Open your mind to me Elisabeth."

She trembled now. "But you can't! I mean, you don't read minds! You said..." She bit her lip and Patrick knew his suspicions were correct. Elisabeth had been untrue, and she had thought to tell him it was a lie before he heard the rumour for himself.  To be honest, he could not have cared less who she was with, but she had thought to get away with lying to him. His entire clan knew he did not like to read minds and she had used that knowledge to try to play him for a fool.  

Anger boiled in Patrick's veins as he narrowed his eyes.  "You know that I do not need your cooperation to breach your mind. Refusing will give you a needless headache."

"No, no. I must have been mistaken. Let us forget all of this." She was scrambling for ideas now,  her hands pushing at his in an attempt to free herself.

Patrick let go and stepped back. The scent of cinnamon that always clung to her clothes stifled him.

"Get out of my sight."

Elisabeth hesitated for a moment before raising her skirts and turning towards the woods. In the next moment she was running.

"Well, that has to be the first time I've seen that happen."

Ismail. Patrick turned to face his best friend, the  Leader of the Southern Clan of Vampires. Ismail's white teeth flashed amongst his olive skin as he grinned.

"Seen what happen exactly?" Patrick narrowed his eyes.

"I've seen women run towards you, chase you, even fall at your feet, , but that's the first I've seen run away from you, Highlander." When Patrick's expression darkened, Ismail gave in and laughed.

Narrowing his eyes, Patrick turned back towards the Circus and began to walk. Coming to this place had not been his idea, but since they were here... "I believe your bad luck with women is rubbing off on me Turk, I'll do well to stay away from you."

"Hah!" Ismail grunted. He brushed a dead leaf from his Ottoman cut jacket as he followed close on Patrick's heels. "Turks need no luck with women, good or bad. We are taught their language in the cradle!"

His humour restored, Patrick laughed, "Of course my friend, that is why you are unaccompanied at all the events we go to!" Patrick knew that his friend chose to be alone, but it was still amusing to tease the Vampire.

Ismail had told him many years ago that he was looking for huzur –the Turkish word that described a state of being at peace with oneself. Without huzur, Ismail claimed he would be unhappy and so would be unable to make anyone else happy. Patrick wondered sometimes if his friend might be right. Perhaps his own relationships were unfulfilling because he did not posses this elusive huzur.

"So, care to tell me what you are doing here my friend?" Patrick asked as they neared the Circus. 

Eyes still sparkling with humour Ismail's shrugged, "Our dear Angelica told me to acquire some culture."

"Acquire some culture?"

The tall Ottoman shrugged as they reached the Circus grounds. "We were speaking of cultural differences this morning when she threw one of her pregnancy fits. I can't even say what instigated her anger, but I believe her precise words were: 'get your barbaric self to the Circus if you want to listen to real music'."

"Real music at a circus? She can't have been serious." Patrick looked up at the white material of the large tent, tried to imagine a professional orchestra hiding within and failed.

"I'm not sure if she was serious or not, but naturally agreed to her suggestion immediately," Ismail fished for a coin from the pocket of his tailored coat, "Only a foolish man would say no to a pregnant woman."

"Quite right," Patrick acknowledged, reaching for a coin of his own. His mind wondered to the tent in front of them as they reached the large entrance. "Do you think I might find myself a young lassie in there? Can't have it put about that I was without a female companion. I have a reputation to uphold you know?"

Ismail raised a regal brow. "Knowing you Highlander, a woman will fall into your lap before we can settle into our seats."

A young boy accepted their coins, giving them two tickets in return. With the bits of paper in their hands they stepped towards the hot gathering of eager people. Several women turned to watch Patrick pass, their expressions clearly inviting. 

"Not quite falling into my lap, but sometimes I think it would be more fun if it were a little more difficult." Patrick avoided the stare of a particularly buxom redhead,  searching instead for free spaces along the crammed wooden benches of the massive tent.

"Watch what you say my friend," Ismail stood beside him. "Do not wish for difficulties unless you truly want them, for the world will oblige your requests."

"Oh come, don't start spewing that mystic babble again. Look over there, two seats." Moving towards the empty spots, Patrick beckoned for Ismail to follow.

"For such a clever man, Highlander, you can be exceedingly thickheaded."

"Thank you dear friend, I do try hard," Patrick winked as they settled into their seats.