Belleville Manor Novels & Stories

He wasn't about to let anything happen to her. Keith turned up the dirt road that led to the Council manor. The large black SUV bumping along only added an extra dimension to Cullen's upset. He had never been so unhappy to see the manor looming on the mountain side. Immense and imposing, stone work made the manor look like it had been imported from some bad horror flick. Too new to look like a legitimate castle, it had all the trappings of modern society. From the heated stone floors to the Jacuzzis in the suite bathrooms, it was more like a luxury resort than anything else. Not that you could that from the outside.

The further that they went down the gravel track, the more mystical it seemed. A looming gray stone manor came into view. Three stories with towers in each corner. Large multi pane windows that were five feet wide and twice as high. Six were on either side of the large double doors that, unlike the windows, went all the way to the ground. The grand portico of the door was so large that two additional windows were on the upper floors. Instead of going to the front, they followed Siobhan around the side of the large building. Smaller tracks led off to cottages that could be rented short term or, in the case of one elderly couple, extremely long term. Directly behind the large manor was a small

The gate closed again behind them with a soft clang. Julissa could tell—this was a manor. A relatively modest one, perhaps, but in a city like this, such space was already rare. On one side of the internal drive were tall trees with an unknown fragrance. On the other side, expansive green lawns. Up ahead stood a three-story modern villa. Though night concealed much of its appearance, the warm light from within revealed it was spacious and sleek in design. Julissa became more convinced—this must be Scott’s house.

There was a crowd of people right below him, on the first floor, in the outdoor pool area. All those people, all those faces, all those smiles; nothing seemed to be enough. Drinks circulated throughout the house. There were people that Aaron could not say where they came from, because he simply did not know the guests. Everyone drank, and filled their glasses with dubious substances, making the most of the night. Not even half of the people were sober. The Bel-Air condominium was a residential enclave located at the foot of the Santa Monica Mountains. The Granger mansion was a house with visible grandeur, with a garden similar to a nature reserve, and an Olympic-sized swimming pool.

He rose from his bed and retrieved his cloak from the rack. "I think I will go with the soul," he told her. "Where is it residing, anyway?" "The Allard Manor, in the city of Los Angeles." •‡•‡•‡• The Allard Manor was no longer in its superior state; it had been abandoned, unkempt, and on a fast track to becoming dilapidated. Most doors were hanging off their hinges, the windows cracked or broken, the ceiling coated in cobwebs, and the wooden floors soft and yielding, to the point where Thisbe's foot had snapped a stairway floorboard in half.

“And Caroline is a human carrying the impossible child of the last Lycan alive.” I don’t respond because he’s right. “Well,” He sighs tiredly. “At least we’re both making catastrophic decisions together.” I almost smile, then remember the godforsaken prophecy “Come on.” “Where are we going?” “To see Belle.” His humour drains away instantly. Neither of us speaks again during the drive. The old mansion stands hidden behind layers of protection and old magic in upper Manhattan, separated from the newer pack territory intentionally. It is older than most buildings surrounding it. The witches prefer it that way.